_Sayl._ Come, Sir, Look to your neck, you are like to sail i'th' air now. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. _Enter_ Thomas, Dorothy, _and Maid_. _Thom._ Come quickly, quickly, paint me handsomely, Take heed my nose be not in grain too; Come _Doll, Doll_, disen me. _Dor._ If you should play now Your Devils parts again. _Thom._ Yea and nay, _Dorothy_. _Dor._ If ye do any thing, but that ye have sworn to, Which only is access. _Thom._ As I am a Gentleman; Out with this hair, _Doll_, handsomely. _Dor._ You have your Breeches? _Thom._ I prithee away, thou know'st I am monstrous ticklish, What, dost thou think I love to blast my Buttocks? _Dor._ I'll plague ye for this Roguery; for I know well What ye intend, Sir. _Thom._ On with my muffler. _Dor._ Ye are a sweet Lady; come, let's see you courtesie; What, broke i'th bum? hold up your head. _Thom._ Plague on't, I shall bepiss my Breeches if I cowr thus, Come, I am ready. _Maid._ At all points as like, Sir, As if you were my Mistress. _Dor._ Who goes with ye? _Thom._ None but my fortune, and my self. [_Exit_ Tho. _Dor._ 'Bless ye: Now run for thy life, and get before him, Take the by-way, and tell my Cousin _Mary_ In what shape he intends to come to cozen her; I'll follow at thy heels my self, fly Wench. _Maid._ I'll do it. [_Exit._ _Enter_ Sebastian, _and_ Thomas. _Dor._ My Father has met him; this goes excellent, And I'll away in time; look to your Skin, _Thomas_. [_Exit._ _Seb._ What, are you grown so corn fed, Goody _Gillian_, You will not know your Father? what vagaries Have you in hand? what out-leaps, durty heels, That at these hours of night ye must be gadding, And through the Orchard take your private passage? What, is the breeze in your Breech? or has your Brother Appointed you an hour of meditation How to demean himself; get ye to bed, drab, Or I'll so crab your Shoulders; ye demure Slut, Ye civil dish of sliced Beef, get ye in. _Thom._ I wi' not, that I wi' not. _Seb._ Is't ev'n so, Dame? Have at ye with a night Spell then. _Thom._ 'Pray hold, Sir. _Seb._ St. _George_, St. _George_, our Ladies Knight, He walks by day, so does he by night, And when he had her found, He her beat, and her bound, Until to him her troth she plight, She would not stir from him that night. _Thom._ Then have at ye with a Counter Spell, From Elves, Hobs, and Fayries, that trouble our Dayries, From Fire-Drakes and Fiends, and such as the Devil sends, Defend us good Heaven. [_Exit._ _Enter_ Launcelot.