FAST. Now, by wit, Macilente, it's above measure excellent; 'twill be the only court-exploit that ever proved courtier ingenious. PUNT. Upon my soul, it puts the lady quite out of her humour, and we shall laugh with judgment. CAR. Come, the gentleman was of himself resolved to go with you, afore I moved it. MACI. Why, then, gallants, you two and Carlo go afore to prepare the jest; Sogliardo and I will come some while after you. CAR. Pardon me, I am not for the court. PUNT. That's true; Carlo comes not at court, indeed. Well, you shall leave it to the faculty of monsieur Brisk, and myself; upon our lives, we will manage it happily. Carlo shall bespeak supper at the Mitre, against we come back: where we will meet and dimple our cheeks with laughter at the success. CAR. Ay, but will you promise to come? PUNT. Myself shall undertake for them; he that fails, let his reputation lie under the lash of thy tongue. CAR. Ods so, look who comes here! ENTER FUNGOSO. SOG. What, nephew! FUNG. Uncle, God save you; did you see a gentleman, one monsieur Brisk, a courtier? he goes in such a suit as I do. SOG. Here is the gentleman, nephew, but not in such a suit. FUNG. Another suit! [HE SWOONS. SOG. How now, nephew? FAST. Would you speak with me, sir? CAR. Ay, when he has recovered himself, poor Poll! PUNT. Some rosa-solis. MACI. How now, signior? FUNG. I am not well, sir. MACI. Why, this it is to dog the fashion. CAR. Nay, come, gentlemen, remember your affairs; his disease is nothing but the flux of apparel. PUNT. Sirs, return to the lodging, keep the cat safe; I'll be the dog's guardian myself. [EXEUNT SERVANTS. SOG. Nephew, will you go to court with us? these gentlemen and I are for the court; nay, be not so melancholy. FUNG. 'Slid, I think no man in Christendom has that rascally fortune that I have. MACI. Faith, you suit is well enough, signior. FUNG. Nay, not for that, I protest; but I had an errand to monsieur Fastidious, and I have forgot it. MACI. Why, go along to court with us, and remember it; come, gentlemen, you three take one boat, and Sogliardo and I will take another; we shall be there instantly. FAST. Content: good sir, vouchsafe us your pleasance. PUNT. Farewell, Carlo: remember. CAR. I warrant you: would I had one of Kemp's shoes to throw after you. PUNT. Good fortune will close the eyes of our jest, fear not; and we shall frolick. [EXEUNT. MIT. This Macilente, signior, begins to be more sociable on a sudden, methinks, than he was before: there's some portent in it, I believe.