Boy. It shall be done, it is not our fault, gentlemen. [Exit.
Wife. Now we shall see fine doings, I warrant thee, George. Oh, here they come; how prettily the King of Cracovia's daughter is drest.
Enter Ralph and the Lady, Squire and Dwarf.
Cit. Ay, Nell, it is the fashion of that country, I warrant thee.
Lady. Welcome, Sir Knight, unto my father's court,
King of Moldavia, unto me Pompiona,
His daughter dear. But sure you do not like
Your entertainment, that will stay with us
No longer but a night.
Ralph. Damsel right fair,