nd your quarrelling disciple?

SUB. Ay.

FACE. I must to my captainship again then.

SUB. Stay, bring them in first.

FACE. So I meant. What is she?
A bonnibel?

SUB. I know not.

FACE. We'll draw lots:
You'll stand to that?

SUB. What else?

FACE. O, for a suit,
To fall now like a curtain, flap!

SUB. To the door, man.

FACE. You'll have the first kiss, 'cause I am not ready.

[EXIT.]

SUB. Yes, and perhaps hit you through both the nostrils.

FACE [WITHIN]. Who would you speak with?

KAS [WITHIN]. Where's the captain?

FACE [WITHIN]. Gone, sir,
About some business.

KAS [WITHIN]. Gone!

FACE [WITHIN]. He'll return straight.
But master doctor, his lieutenant, is here.

[ENTER KASTRIL, FOLLOWED BY DAME PLIANT.]

SUB. Come near, my worshipful boy, my terrae fili,
That is, my boy of land; make thy approaches:
Welcome; I know thy lusts, and thy desires,
And I will serve and satisfy them. Begin,
Charge me from thence, or thence, or in this line;
Here is my centre: ground thy quarrel.

KAS. You lie.

SUB. How, child of wrath and anger! the loud lie?
For what, my sudden boy?

KAS. Nay, that look you to,
I am afore-hand.

SUB. O, this is no true grammar,
And as ill logic! You must render causes, child,
Your first and second intentions, know your canons
And your divisions, moods, degrees, and differences,
Your predicaments, substance, and accident,
Series, extern and intern, with their causes,
Efficient, material, formal, final,
And have your elements perfect.

KAS [ASIDE]. What is this?
The angry tongue he talks in?

SUB. That false precept,
Of being afore-hand, has deceived a number,
And made them enter quarrels, often-times,
Before they were aware; and afterward,
Against their wills.

KAS. How must I do then, sir?

SUB. I cry this lady mercy: she should first
Have been saluted.
[KISSES HER.]
I do call you lady,
Because you are to be one, ere't be long,
My soft and buxom widow.

KAS. Is she, i'faith?

SUB. Yes, or my art is an egregious liar.

KAS. How know you?

SUB. By inspection on her forehead,
And subtlety of her lip, which must be tasted
Often to make a judgment.
[KISSES HER AGAIN.]
'Slight, she melts
Like a myrobolane:--here is yet a line,
In rivo frontis, tells me he is no knight.

DAME P. What is he then, sir?

SUB. Let m