Boy. What then, do you see? Lad.2. I, our way to be gone Boy. You are too hard for me. Exeunt. omnes. Actus Tertius. Enter Braggart and Boy. Song. Bra. Warble childe, make passionate my sense of hearing Boy. Concolinel Brag. Sweete Ayer, go tendernesse of yeares: take this Key, giue enlargement to the swaine, bring him festinatly hither: I must imploy him in a letter to my Loue Boy. Will you win your loue with a French braule? Bra. How meanest thou, brauling in French? Boy. No my compleat master, but to Iigge off a tune at the tongues end, canarie to it with the feete, humour it with turning vp your eie: sigh a note and sing a note, sometime through the throate: if you swallowed loue with singing, loue sometime through: nose as if you snuft vp loue by smelling loue with your hat penthouselike ore the shop of your eies, with your armes crost on your thinbellie doublet, like a Rabbet on a spit, or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting, and keepe not too long in one tune, but a snip and away: these are complements, these are humours, these betraie nice wenches that would be betraied without these, and make them men of note: do you note men that most are affected to these? Brag. How hast thou purchased this experience? Boy. By my penne of obseruation Brag. But O, but O Boy. The Hobbie-horse is forgot Bra. Cal'st thou my loue Hobbi-horse Boy. No Master, the Hobbie-horse is but a Colt, and and your Loue perhaps, a Hacknie: but haue you forgot your Loue? Brag. Almost I had Boy. Negligent student, learne her by heart Brag. By heart, and in heart Boy Boy. And out of heart Master: all those three I will proue Brag. What wilt thou proue? Boy. A man, if I liue (and this) by, in, and without, vpon the instant: by heart you loue her, because your heart cannot come by her: in heart you loue her, because your heart is in loue with her: and out of heart you loue her, being out of heart that you cannot enioy her Brag. I am all these three Boy. And three times as much more, and yet nothing at all Brag. Fetch hither the Swaine, he must carrie mee a letter Boy. A message well simpathis'd, a Horse to be embassadour for an Asse Brag. Ha, ha, What saiest thou? Boy. Marrie sir, you must send the Asse vpon the Horse for he is verie slow gated: but I goe Brag. The way is but short, away Boy. As swift as Lead sir Brag. Thy meaning prettie ingenious, is not Lead a mettall heauie, dull, and slow? Boy. Minnime honest Master, or rather Master no Brag. I say Lead is slow Boy. You are too swift sir to say so. Is that Lead slow which is fir'd from a Gunne? Brag. Sweete smoke of Rhetorike, He reputes me a Cannon, and the Bullet that's he: I shoote thee at the Swaine Boy. Thump then, and I flee