us, in private, and
from the abundance of his pocket (to displace her jealous conceit)
steal into his hat the colour, whose blueness doth express
trueness, she being not so, nor so affected; you give him the dor.

ASO. Do not I know it, sir?

AMO. Nay, good--swell not above your understanding. There is
yet a third dor in colours.

ASO. I know it too, I know it.

AMO. Do you know it too? what is it? make good your knowledge.

ASO. Why it is--no matter for that.

AMO. Do it, on pain of the dor.

ASO. Why; what is't, say you?

AMO. Lo, you have given yourself the dor. But I will remonstrate
to you the third dor, which is not, as the two former dors,
indicative, but deliberative: as how? as thus. Your rival is,
with a dutiful and serious care, lying in his bed, meditating how
to observe his mistress, dispatcheth his lacquey to the chamber
early, to know what her colours are for the day, with purpose to
apply his wear that day accordingly: you lay wait before,
preoccupy the chamber-maid, corrupt her to return false colours; he
follows the fallacy, comes out accoutred to his believed
instructions; your mistress smiles, and you give him the dor.

ASO. Why, so I told you, sir, I knew it.

AMO. Told me! It is a strange outrecuidance, your humour too much
redoundeth.

ASO. Why, sir, what, do you think you know more?

AMO. I know that a cook may as soon and properly be said to smell
well, as you to be wise. I know these are most clear and clean
strokes. But then, you have your passages and imbrocatas in
courtship; as the bitter bob in wit; the reverse in face or
wry-mouth; and these more subtile and secure offenders. I will
example unto you: Your opponent makes entry as you are engaged
with your mistress. You seeing him, close in her ear with this
whisper, "Here comes your baboon, disgrace him"; and withal
stepping off, fall on his bosom, and turning to her, politely,
aloud say, Lady, regard this noble gentleman, a man rarely parted,
second to none in this court; and then, stooping over his shoulder,
your hand on his breast, your mouth on his backside, you give him
the reverse stroke, with this sanna, or stork's-bill, which makes
up your wit's bob most bitter.

ASO. Nay, for heaven's sake, teach me no more. I know all as well
--'Slid, if I did not, why was I nominated? wh