_Slip._ O, master, know you not that? Draw your tables,[253] and write what wise I speak. First, a merry countenance; second, a soft pace; third, a broad forehead; fourth, broad buttocks; fifth, hard of ward; sixth, easy to leap upon; seventh, good at long journey; eighth, moving under a man; ninth, always busy with the mouth; tenth, ever chewing on the bridle. _Ateu._ Thou art a man for me: what's thy name? _Slip._ An ancient name, sir, belonging to the chamber and the night-gown: guess you that. _Ateu._ What's that? Slipper? _Slip._ By my faith, well guessed; and so 'tis indeed. You'll be my master? _Ateu._ I mean so. _Slip._ Read this first. _Ateu._ [_reads_]. _Pleaseth it any gentleman to entertain a servant of more wit than stature, let them subscribe, and attendance shall be given._ What of this? _Slip._ He is my brother, sir; and we two were born together, must serve together, and will die together, though we be both hanged. _Ateu._ What's thy name? _Nano._ Nano. _Ateu._ The etymology of which word is "a dwarf." Are not thou the old stoic's son that dwells in his tomb? _Slip. Nano._ We are. _Ateu._ Thou art welcome to me. Wilt thou give thyself wholly to be at my disposition? _Nano._ In all humility I submit myself. _Ateu._ Then will I deck thee princely, instruct thee courtly, and present thee to the queen as my gift. Art thou content? _Nano._ Yes, and thank your honour too. _Slip._ Then welcome, brother, and follow now. _And._ [_coming forward_]. May it please your honour to abase your eye so low as to look either on my bill or myself? _Ateu._ What are you? _And._ By birth a gentleman; in profession a scholar; and one that knew your honour in Edinburgh, before your worthiness called you to this reputation: by me, Andrew Snoord. _Ateu._ Andrew, I remember thee; follow me, and we will confer further; for my weighty affairs for the king command me to be brief at this time.--Come on, Nano.--Slipper, follow. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III.--SIR BARTRAM'S _Castle._ _Enter_ SIR BARTRAM, _with_ EUSTACE, _and others, booted._ _Sir Bar._ But tell me, lovely Eustace, as thou lov'st me, Among the many pleasures we have pass'd, Which is the rifest in thy memory, To draw thee over to thine ancient friend? _Eust._ What makes Sir Bartram thus inquisitive? Tell me, good knight, am I welcome or no? _Sir Bar._ By sweet Saint Andrew and may sale[254] I swear, As welcome is my honest Dick to me As morning's sun, or as the watery moon In merkest night, when we the borders track. I tell thee, Dick, thy sight hath clear'd my thoughts Of many baneful troubles that there woon'd:[255] Welcome to Sir Bartram as his life! Tell me, bonny Dick: hast got a wife?