t goe to bedd at all.

_Foul_. Why its but ten miles, and a fine cleere night, sir _Gyles_.

_Goos_. But ten miles? what do ye talke, Captaine?

_Rud_. Why? doost thinke its any more?

_Goos_. I, Ile lay ten pounds its more than ten miles, or twelve eyther.

_Rud_. What, to _Barnet_.

_Goos_. I, to _Barnet_.

_Rud_. Slydd, Ile lay a hundred pound with thee, if thou wilt.

_Goos_. Ile lay five hundred, to a hundred. Slight I will not be
outborne with a wager, in that I know: I am sure it was foure yeeres
agon ten miles thether, and I hope tis more now. Slydd doe not miles
grow thinke you, as well as other _Animals_?

_Ia_. O wise Knight!

_Goos_. I never innd in the Towne but once, and then they lodged me in a
Chamber so full of these Ridiculous Fleas, that I was fain to lie
standing all night, and yet I made my man rise, and put out the Candle
too, because they should not see to bite me.

_Foul_. A pretty project.

_Bul_. Intruth Captaine, if I might advise you, you should tarry, and
take the morning afore you.

_Foul_. How? _O mon Dieu_! how the villaine _poultroune_, dishonours his
travaile! You _Buffonly Mouchroun_, are you so mere rude, and English to
advise your Captaine?

_Rud_. Nay, I prethee _Fouleweather_, be not tempesteous with thy
poore Lacquay.

_Foul_. Tempesteous, Sir _Cutt_? will your _Frenchman_, thinke you,
suffer his Lacquay to advise him?

_Goos_. O God you must take heed Lacquy how you advise your Captaine;
your French lacquay would not have done it.

_Foul_. He would have bin poxt first. _Allume le torche_, sweet Pages
commend us to your Ladies, say we kisse their white hands, and will not
faile to meete them; Knights, which of you leades?

_Goos_. Not wee, sir; you are a Captaine, and a leader.

_Rud_. Besides, thou art commended for the better man, for thou art very
Commendations it selfe, and Captaine Commendations.

_Foul_. Why? what tho I be Captain Commendations?

_Rud_. Why and Captaine Commendations, is harty commendations, for
Captaines are harty I am sure, or else hang them.

_Foul_. Why, what if I be harty Commendations? come, come, sweete
Knights, lead the way.

_Rud_. O Lorde Sir, alwayes after my harty Commendations.

_Foul_. Nay then you conquer me with precedent, by the autenticall forme
of all Iustice letters.
[_Alloun. Exeunt_.

_Ia_. Here's a most sweet Gudgeon swallowed, is there not?

_Will_. I but how wi