_Goos_. Yes, I'le ensure you Captaine, there are many of them truely emphaticall: but all your _French_ Ladies are not fatt? are they sir? _Foul_. Fatt sir? why doe ye thinke emphaticall is fatt, sir _Gyles_? _Rud_. Gods my life, brother Knight, didst thou thinke so? hart I know not what it is my selfe, but yet I never thought it was fatt, Ile be sworne to thee. _Foul_. Why if any true Courtly dame had had but this new fashioned sute, to entertaine anything indifferently stuffed, why you should have had her more respective by farre. _Rud_. Nay, theres some reason for that, Captaine, me thinks a true woman should perpetually doate upon a new fashion. _Foul_. Why y'are i'thright sir _Cutt. In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas_[7]. Tis the mind of man, and woman to affect new fashions; but to our Mynsatives[8] for sooth, if he come like to your _Besognio_,[9] or your bore, so he be rich, or emphaticall, they care not; would I might never excell a dutch Skipper in Courtship, if I did not put distaste into my cariage of purpose; I knew I should not please them. _Lacquay? allume le torche_. _Rud_. Slydd, heres neyther Torch, nor Lacquay, me thinks. _Foul_. _O mon dieu_. _Rud_. O doe not sweare Captaine. _Foul_. Your Frenchman ever sweares, Sir _Cutt_, upon the lacke of his Lacquay, I assure you. _Goos_. See heere he comes, and my Ladies two pages, they have been tickling the vanity ont yfaith. SCAENA TERTIA. _Enter to them Iack, Bullaker, Will_. _Ia_. Captaine _Fowleweather_, my Lady the Countes _Eugenia_ commends her most kindly to you, and is determined to morrowe morning earely, if it be a frost, to take her Coach to Barnet to bee nipt; where if it please you, to meete her, and accompany her homewarde, joyning your wit with the frost, and helpe to nip her, She does not doubt but tho you had a sad supper, you will have a joyfull breakefast. _Foul_. I shall indeed, my deare youth. _Rud_. Why Captaine I abus'd thee, I see: I said the Ladies respected thee not, and now I perceive the widow is in love with thee. _Foul_. Sblood, Knight, I knew I had strucke her to the quicke, I wondred shee departed in that extravagant fashion: I am sure I past one _Passado_ of Courtship upon her, that has hertofore made a lane amongst the _French_ Ladies like a Culvering shot, Ile be sworne; and I thinke, Sir _Gyles_, you saw she fell under it. _Goos_. O as cleare as candlelight, by this daylight. _Rud_. O good Knight a the post[10], heele sweare anything. _Will_. The other two Ladies commend them no lesse kindly to you two Knights too; & desire your worships wood meete them at Barnet ith morning with the Captaine. _Foul. Goos. Rud_. O good Sir. _Goos_. Our worships shall attend their Ladiships thether. _Ia_. No Sir _Gyles_ by no meanes, they will goe privately thether, but if you will meet them there. _Rud_. Meet them? weele die fort, but weele meet them. _Foul_. Let's goe thether to night, Knights, and you be true Gallants.