Scena Quinta.
Go you before to Gloster with these Letters; acquaint my Daughter no further with any thing you know, then comes from her demand out of the Letter, if your Dilligence be not speedy, I shall be there afore you.
I will not sleepe my Lord, till I haue deliuered your Letter.
If a mans braines were in's heeles, wert not in danger of kybes?
I Boy.
Then I prythee be merry, thy wit shall not go slip-shod.
Ha, ha, ha.
Shalt see thy other Daughter will vse thee kind∣ly, for though she's as like this, as a Crabbe's like an Apple, yet I can tell what I can tell.
What can'st tell Boy?
She will taste as like this as, a Crabbe do's to a Crab: thou canst tell why ones nose stands i' th' middle on's face?
No.
Why to keepe ones eyes of either side's nose, that what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into.
I did her wrong.
Can'st tell how an Oyster makes his shell?
No.
Nor I neither; but I can tell why a Snaile ha's a house.
Why?
Why to put's head in, not to giue it away to his daughters, and leaue his hornes without a case.
I will forget my Nature, so kind a Father? Be my Horsses ready?
Thy Asses are gone about 'em; the reason why the seuen Starres are no mo then seuen, is a pretty reason.
Because they are not eight.
Yes indeed, thou would'st make a good Foole.
To tak't againe perforce; Monster Ingratitude!
If thou wert my Foole Nunckle, Il'd haue thee beaten for being old before thy time.
How's that?
Thou shouldst not haue bin old, till thou hadst bin wise.
O let me not be mad, not mad sweet Heauen▪ keepe me in temper, I would not be mad. How now are the Horses ready?
Ready my Lord.
Come Boy.