_Hans_. You shall not stoope so lowe, good M. Doctor; kisse higher if it please you. _Doct_. In my trot me honour you. _Hans_. I, but you give me nothing, sir. _Doct_. No? by garr, me giv'a de high commendation passe all de gold, precious pearle in de vorld. _Hans_. I, sir, passe by it, you meane so, sir. Well, I shall have your good word, I see, M. Doctor. _Doct_. I sayt. _Hans_. But not a rag of money. _Doct_. No, by my trot, no point money; me give de beggra de money, no point de brave man. _Hans_. Would I were not so brave in your mouth.--But I can tell you newes, maister Doctor. _Doct_. Vat be dat? _Hans_. The young Prince hath drunke himselfe mad at my maisters to day. _Doct_. By garr, drunke, I tinck. _Hans_. No, sir, starke mad; he cryes out as if the towne were a fier. _Doct_. By garr, me suspect a ting. _Hans_. Nay, I can tell you more newes yet. _Doct_. Vat newes? _Hans_. If your cap be of capacitie to conceive it now, so it is. Ile deale with you by way of Interrogation:-- _Who is it must marry with_ Lucilia _bright? All day a Painter, and an Earle at night_. _Doct_. By garr, me no conceive vatt you say. _Hans_. Let wisdome answer: _I aske what is man? A Pancake tost in Fortune's frying pan_. _Doct_. Vat frying pan? by garr, I tinck de foolish petit Jack is madd. _Hans_. _For, as an Asse may weare a Lyons skinne, So noble Earles have sometimes Painters binne_. _Doct_. Garrs blurr, he ryme de grand Rats[54] from my house: me no stay, me go seek 'a my faire _Cornelia_. [_Exit_. _Hans_. Farewell Doctor Doddy, in minde and in body An excellent Noddy: A cockscomb[55] incony, but that he wants mony To give _legem pone_. O what a pittifull case is this! What might I have done with this wit if my friends had bestowed learning upon me? Well, when all's don, a naturall guift is woorth all. [_Exit_. [SCENE 3.] _Enter Alphonso, Hardenbergh, Hoscherman, with others, &c_. _Hard_. The Ambassador of _Brunswick_ (good my lord) Begins to murmure at his long delayes? _Hosc_. Twere requisit your highnes wold dismisse him. _Alph_. Who holds him? let him go. _Hard_. My Lord, you know his message is more great Then to depart so slightly without answer, Urging the marriage that your grace late sought With _Katherine_, sister to the Saxon Duke. _Hosk_. Whom if your highnes should so much neglect As to forsake his sister and delude him, Considering already your olde jarre With the stoute _Lantsgrave_, what harmes might ensue? _Alph_. How am I crost? _Hyanthe_ 'tis for thee That I neglect the Duchesse and my vowes. _Hard_. My Lord, twere speciallie convenient Your grace would satisfie th'embassador. _Alph_. Well, call him in. _Hosk_. But will your Highnes then Forsake _Hyanthe_? _Alph_. Nothing lesse, _Hosk[erman_]. _Hosk_. How will you then content th'embassadour? _Alph_. I will delaie him with some kinde excuse. _Hard_. What kinde excuse, my Lord?