_Beau._ Ready at an hour, Sir: we'll not be last.
_Cham._ Fie, what a night shall we have!
A roaring, merry night.
_Lam._ We'll flie at all, Sir.
_Cham._ I'le flie at thee too, finely, and so ruffle thee, I'le try your Art upon a Country pallet.
_Lam._ Brag not too much, for fear I should expect it, Then if you fail--
_Cham._ Thou saiest too true, we all talk.
But let's in, and prepare, and after dinner Begin our mirthful pilgrimage.
_Lam._ He that's sad, A crab-face'd Mistris cleave to him for this year. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ Cleremont, _and_ La-writ.
_La-writ._ Since it cannot be the Judge--
_Cler._ 'Tis a great deal better.
_La-writ._ You are sure, he is his kinsman? a Gentleman?
_Cler._ As arrant a Gentleman, and a brave fellow, And so near to his blood--
_La-writ._ It shall suffice, I'le set him further off, I'le give a remove Shall quit his kindred, I'le lopp him.
_Cl[e]r._ Will ye kill him?
_La-w._ And there were no more Cousins in the world I kill him, I do mean, Sir, to kill all my Lords kindred.
For every cause a Cousin.
_Cler._ How if he have no more Cousins?
_La-writ._ The next a kin then to his Lordships favour; The man he smiles upon.
_Cler._ Why this is vengeance, horrid, and dire.
_La-writ._ I love a dire revenge: Give me the man that will all others kill, And last himself,
_Cler._ You stole that resolution.
_La-writ._ I had it in a Play, but that's all one, I wou'd see it done.
_Cler._ Come, you must be more merciful.
_La-writ._ To no Lords Cousins in the world, I hate 'em; A Lords Cousin to me is a kind of c.o.c.katrice, If I see him first, he dies.
A strange Antipathy.
_Cler._ What think you of their Nieces?
_La-writ._ If I like 'em, They may live, and multiply; 'tis a cold morning.
_Cler._ 'Tis sharp indeed; you have broke your fast?
_La-writ._ No verily.
_Cler._ Your valour would have ask'd a good foundation.
_La-writ._ Hang him, I'le kill him fasting.
_Enter_ Sampson _and the Gent_.
_Cler._ Here they come, Bear your self in your language, smooth and gently, When your swords argue.
_La-writ._ 'Pray Sir, spare your precepts.
_Gent._ I have brought you, Sir--
_La-writ._ 'Tis very well, no words, You are welcome, Sir.
_Sam._ I thank you, Sir, few words.
_La-writ._ I'le kill you for your Uncles sake.
_Sam._ I love you, I'le cut your throat for your own sake.
_La-writ._ I esteem of you.
_Cler._ Let's render 'em honest, and fair, Gentlemen, Search my friend, I'le search yours.
_Gent._ That's quickly done.
_Cler._ You come with no Spells, nor Witchcrafts?
_Sam._ I come fairly to kill him honestly.
_La-writ._ Hang Spells, and Witchcrafts, I come to kill my Lords Nephew like a Gentleman, And so I kiss his hand.
_Gent._ This Doublet is too stiff.
_La-writ._ Off with't, I hate it, And all such fortifications, feel my skin, If that be stiff, flea that off too.
_Gent._ 'Tis no soft one.
_La-writ._ Off with't, I say: I'le fight with him like a flea'd Cat.
_Gent._ You are well, you are well.