_Hostis_. A tedious time, by Lady; a month were enough.
_Cittie w_. I, halfe a month; winter nights are long and colde. Ile tell
ye, I have buried sixe, and thank my good fortune I ever knewe the next
ere the other was in his winding sheete.
_Pre_. Mistris, my maister is angrie, and the Guests cal for their
Hostesse.
_Hostis_. Goe, I come: Gossip, when shall I see you agen?
_Citty w_. Nay, when shall I see you abroad? sildome, i'me sure.
_Hostis_. I must needes away; God buy you, Gossip.
_Cittie w_. God buy ye; Gods so, I have forgot wherefore I came: a word
ere you goe, the party yee wott on commends him unto ye, he that met the
other party in the white felt, the yellow scarf, and the round
_Venetian_,[246] when the other party kis't you, and I broake the jest
on him, when hee said kisses kindeles Coules and love searches.
_Hostis_. Oh! I remember him, yes faith, hee's prettie well set; hee
ha's the right trick with the tongue in his kisse, and hee dances
reasonably comely, but he fals heavie.
_Citty w_. He savours of a kinde of Gallant, but not of a Courtyer.
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