MATH. When, can you tell? what, Master Vandal? A weather-beaten soldier, an old wencher, Thus to be overreach'd by three young girls! Ah! sirrah, now we'll brag with Mistress Moore, To have as fine a parrot as she hath. Look, sisters, what a pretty fool it is! What a green, greasy, shining coat he hath. An almond for parrot! a rope for parrot![531] VAN. Do you mocque me? seger, seger, I sal seg your vader. LAUR. Do, and you dare: you see here is your fortune. Disquiet not my father; if you do, I'll send you with a vengeance to the ground. Well, we must confess we trouble you, And over-watching makes a wise man mad, Much more a fool: there's a cushion for you. MATH. To bore you through the nose.[532] [_Aside._ LAUR. To lay your head on. Couch in your kennel, sleep, and fall to rest, And so good night; for London maids scorn still, A Dutchman should be seen to curb their will. VAN. Hort ye, daughter, hort ye, God's seker-kin? will ye no let me come tot you? ic bid you let me come tot you. Wat sal ic don? ic would neit vor un hundred pound Alvaro and Delion should see me op dit manner. Well, wat sal ic don? ic mout neit call, vor de wenshes will cut de rope and break my neck. Ic sal here bleiven til de morning, and dan ic sal call to Mester Pisaro, and make him shafe and shite his dauctors. O de skellum Frisco! O dese cruel hores! _Enter_ PISARO. PIS. I'll put the light out, lest I be espied; For closely I have stolen me forth a-doors, That I might know how my three sons have sped. Now, afore God, my heart is passing light, That I have overreach'd the Englishmen. Ha, ha! Master Vandal, many such nights Will 'suage your big-swoll'n bulk, and make it lank. When I was young--yet though my hairs be grey, I have a young man's spirit to the death, And can as nimbly trip it with a girl As those which fold the spring-tide in their beards. Lord, how the very thought of former times Supples these near-dried limbs with activeness! Well, thoughts are shadows, sooner lost than seen. Now to my daughters and their merry night. I hope Alvaro and his company Have read to them moral philosophy, And they are full with it. Here I'll stay, And tarry, till my gallant youths come forth. _Enter_ HARVEY, WALGRAVE, _and_ HEIGHAM. HEIGH. You madman, wild-oats, madcap! where art thou? WAL. Here afore. HAR. O, 'ware what love is! Ned hath found the scent; And if the coney chance to miss her borough, She's overborne, i' faith; she cannot stand it. PIS. I know that voice, or I am much deceived. HEIGH. Come, why loiter we? this is the door. But soft; here's one asleep. WAL. Come, let me feel. O, 'tis some rogue or other: spurn him, spurn him.