Nod!
why you might have shot a double Cannon in his eare and never have wakt
him. I jogd and I jogd, I showted and I showted, and yet the mungrel
snorted, you might heare him to Dover: at last I dragd him by the heeles
into a ditch of water and there left the Lobster crawling. A the tother
side, Core being appoynted to stand sentynell upon the Wallounes
quarter, s'hart the Loach gets me into a Sutlers bath and there sits mee
drinking for Joanes best cap: but by this hand, and as Dicke Bowyer is a
Soldier and a Cavaliero, he shall sit in the boults for it to morrow. My
comfort is in these extremities that I brought Thomasin to her Ladies
Tent, leaving her new-come Lover to picke strawes. But, soft: _qui vou
la_?[130]

_Enter Ferdinand_.

_Ferd_. My name is Ferdinand.

_Bow_. Stand!

_Ferd_. Why, Captayne, thou dost knowe me well inough.

_Bow_. Know or not know, without the word you passe not.

_Ferd_. Soliman.

_Bow_. So, _allie, allie, Monseur_.

_Ferd_. First, tell me, sawest thou Pembrooke come this way?

_Bow_. I saw him not.

_Ferd_. Farewell. [_Exit_.

_Bow_. As much to you. Zounds, these French think to outface us with a
card of ten[131]: but, and his beard were made of brasse, Dicke Bowyer
will make him know the discipline of war. Here comes another.

_Enter Pembrooke_.

_Pem_. Who's there? Dick Bowyer?

_Bow_. Some call me so: what then?

_Pem_. Pembrooke salutes thee.

_Bow_. O good morrow, my Lord, good morrow.

_Pem_. I prythee, Captayne, sawst thou Ferdinand, Sonne to Navar, as
thou didst walke the round.

_Bow_. Even now, my Lord, he past along this way.

_Pem_. Himselfe alone? or had he company?

_Bow_. Nay, questionlesse, he was alone, my Lord.

_Pem_. Couldst thou discerne his face? how did he looke?

_Bow_. Faith, scurvily, my Lord, like a greene cheese or the inside of a
rotten Pumpian.[132]

_Pem_. There is Crownes for thee to drinke. [_Exit Pem_.

_Bow_. I thanke your Lordship. To see the difference betweene these
French Curres and our English Cavaliers! There's as much bounty in
them as there's Marchpane in a dish of Almond butter. I might have
stood heere till my teeth chatter in my head e're the tother
Launcepresado[133] would have sayd, Here, Captayn Bowyer, there's a
Cardicue[134] to wash downe melancholy. But, had I knowne as much, I
would have basted him till his bones had rattled in his skin.

_Enter Core and other Souldiers bringing in th