at her huckle[315] bone.

_Enter Accutus_.

_Acut_. Gentles, most happily encountered, how good hap hath turnd two
labours into one! I was addrest to both, and at once I have met both,
sure I must intreate that you must not deny.

_Host_. Say on, my sweete bullie, mine Host will attend thee; speake
roundly to the purpose, and welcome, my bullie.

_Accut_. Marrie thus, there are[316] great revels & shews preparde to
beautifie the nuptials of _Lentulus_, and _Tully_, in which the
Cittizens have the least share; now, would but you and some others that
I shall collect,

Joyne hands with me in some queint jest,
Our shew shall deserve grace, and brave the rest.

_Host_, I have thee, brave spirit, tha'rt of the true seede of _Troy_,
lets be merrie and wise, merrie hearts live long; mine Host, my brave
Host, with his neighbor _Cornutus_ shall bee two of the Maskers, and the
Morrice shall be daunc'd.

_Cor_. Not so, mine Host. I dare not doe so, t'will distemper my wife,
my house will be unquiet; mum, mum, I know the world, well enough.

_Host_. Thou shall goe, saies mine Host, merrie hearts live long;
welcome, bullie! mine Host shall make one, so shall my _Cornutus_, for
if I say the word the mouse shall be dun.

_Enter Bos with Porters_.

_Porters_. Save ye mine Host, heeres a parcell of Corne was directed to
be delivered at your house.

_Host_. What ware, my little Atlas, what ware is it?

2 _Por_. I know not, but i'me sure tis as heavie as a horse and--

1 _Por_. I thinke, tis a barrel of oyle, for it spurg'd at my backe.

_Bos_. It was oyle, for I drew the Tap.

_Grac_. What, _Bos_, what mak'st thou heere?

_Acc_. Oh, _chara_[317] _deum soboles, magnum bovis incrementum_.
_Bos_, art there, there?

_Bos_. As sure as you are there, Signior.

_Grac_. _Bos_, will ye not forsake your Cabbin?

_Bos_. Oh sir, he that has not a tilde house must bee glad of a thatch
house. May I crave a suite of you, signior?

_Grac_. What suit, _Bos_?

_Bos_. What you please, beggars must not chuse.

_Accut_. _Bos_ is growne misticall, hee's too dark.

_Bos_. I speake _Hebrew_ indeede, like _Adam_ and _Eve_, before they fel
to spinning; not a rag.

_Grac_. What, naked, _Bos_?

_Bos_. As ye see, will ye heare my suite, signior?

_Gra_. Drunk, & his cloathes stoln, what theef would do it?

_Bos_. Any theefe, sir, but no true[318] man.

_Gra_. Wel, _Bos_, to obtaine a suit at my handes, and to doe s