_Exeunt._ _A banquet set out: Enter_ Sir Vaughan, Horace, Asinius Bubo, _Lady_ Petula, Dicache, Philocalia, _Mistris_ Miniuer _and_ Peter Flash. |1390| _Sir Vaugh._ Ladies and Sentlemen, you are almost all welcome, to this sweet nuncions of Plums. _Dicach._ Almost all Sir Vaughan? why to which of vs are you so niggardly, that you cut her out but a peice of welcome. _Sir Vaugh._ My interpretations is that almost all are welcome, |1395| because I indited a brace or two more that is not come, I am sorrie my Ladie Pride is not among you. _Asi._ Slid, he makes hounds of vs Ningle, a brace quoth a? _Sir Vaug._ Peter Salamanders draw out the pictures of all the ioynt stooles, & Ladies sit downe vpon their wodden faces. |1400| _Flash._ I warrant Sir, Ile giue euerie one of them a good stoole. _Sir Vau._ Master Horace, Master Horace, when I pray to God, and desire in hipocritnes that bald Sir Adams were heer, then, then, then begin to make your railes at the pouertie and beggerly want of haire. |1405| _Hor._ Leaue it to my iudgement. _Sir Vau._ M. Bubo sit there, you and I wil thinke vpon our ends at the Tables: M. Horace, put your learned bodie into the midst of these Ladies; so tis no matter to speake graces at nuncions, because we are all past grace since dinner. |1410| _Asini._ Mas I thanke my destinie I am not past grace, for by this hand full of Carrawaies, I could neuer abide to say grace. _Dica._ Mistris Miniuer, is not that innocent Gentleman a kinde of foole? _Min._ Why doe you aske Madam? |1415| _Dicach._ Nay for no harme, I aske because I thought you two had been of acquaintaine. _Min._ I thinke he’s within an Inch of a foole. _Dicach._ Madam Philocalia, you sit next that spare Gentleman, wod you heard what Mistris Miniuer saies of you. |1420| _Philo._ Why what saies she Madam Dicache. _Dica._ Nay nothing, but wishes you were married to that small timber’d gallant. _Philo._ Your wish and mine are twinnes, I wish so too, for Then I should be sure to lead a merrie life. |1425| _Asini._ Yes faith Ladie, Ide make you laugh, my bolts now and then should be soone shot; by these comfits, weed let all slide. _Petu._ He takes the sweetest oathes that euer I heard a gallant of his pitch sweare; by these Comfits, & these Carrawaies, I warrant it does him good to sweare. |1430| _Asin._ Yes faith tis meate and drinke to me. I am glad Ladie Petula (by this Apple) that they please you. _Sir Vau._ Peter Salamanders wine, I beseech you Master Asinius Bubo, not to sweare so deeplie, for there comes no fruite of your oathes; heere Ladies, I put you all into one corners together, |1435| you shall all drinke of one cup. _Asi._ Peter I prethee fill me out too. _Flash._ Ide fling you out too and I might ha my will, a pox of all fooles. _Sir Vau._ Mistris Miniuers, pray bee lustie, wod Sir Adams |1440| Prickshaft stucke by you.