WILD. A shoeing-horn! CAPT. Yes, a shoeing-horn. Marry, there was garlic in the sauce. WILD. Is this all you would have? CAPT. This, and a bird of paradise, to entertain the rest of the night, and let me alone to cook her. WILD. A bird of paradise! What's that? CAPT. A girl of fifteen, smooth as satin, white as her Sunday apron, plump, and of the first down. I'll take her with her guts in her belly, and warm her with a country-dance or two, then pluck her, and lay her dry betwixt a couple of sheets; there pour into her so much oil of wit as will make her turn to a man, and stick into her heart three corns of whole love, to make her taste of what she is doing; then, having strewed a man all over her, shut the door and leave us, we'll work ourselves into such a sauce as you can never surfeit on, so poignant, and yet no haut goût.[238] Take heed of a haut goût:[239] your onion and woman make the worst sauce. This shook together by an English cook (for your French seasoning spoils many a woman), and there's a dish for a king. WILD. For the first part I'll undertake, Captain. CAPT. But this for supper. No more of this now; this afternoon, as you are true to the petticoat, observe your instructions, and meet at Ned's house in the evening. OMNES. We will not fail. CAPT. I must write to Wanton, to know how things stand at home, and to acquaint her how we have thrived with the old lady to-day. WILD. Whither will you go to write? CAPT. To thy house, 'tis hard by; there's the Fleece. JOLLY. Do; and in the meantime I'll go home and despatch a little business, and meet you. WILD. Make haste, then. JOLLY. Where shall I meet you? WILD. Whither shall we go, till it be time to attend the design? CARE. Let's go to court for an hour. JOLLY. Do: I'll meet you at the queen's side. WILD. No, prythee, we are the monsieurs new come over; and if we go fine, they will laugh at us, and think we believe ourselves so: if not, then they will abuse our clothes, and swear we went into France only to have our cloaks cut shorter. CARE. Will you go see a play? CAPT. Do, and thither I'll come to you, if it be none of our gentlemen poets, that excuse their writings with a prologue that professes they are no scholars. JOLLY. On my word, this is held the best penned of the time, and he has writ a very good play: by this day, it was extremely applauded. CAPT. Does he write plays by the day? Indeed, a man would ha' judged him a labouring poet. JOLLY. A labouring poet! By this hand, he's a knight. Upon my recommendation, venture to see it; hang me if you be not extremely well satisfied. CARE. A knight, and writes plays! It may be, but 'tis strange to us; so they say there are other gentlemen poets without land or Latin; this was not ordinary; prythee, when was he knighted? JOLLY. In the north, the last great knighting, when 'twas God's great mercy we were not all knights.