The Historie
17691622Hot. Come Kate, thou art perfe
ct in lying downe,
17701623Come quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.
17741626Hot. Now I perceiue the diuell vnder
stands Wel
sh,
17751627And tis no maruaile he is
so humorous,
17771629La. Then
should you be nothing but mu
sicall,
17781630For you are altogither gouernd by humors,
17791631Lie
still ye thiefe, and heare the Lady
sing in Wel
sh.
17801632Hot. I had rather heare lady my brache howle in Iri
sh.
17821633La. Would
st thou haue thy head broken?
17851636Hotsp. Neither, tis a womans fault.
17901641Here the Ladie sings a welsh song. 17911642Hot. Come Kate, ile haue your
song too.
17931644Hot. Not yours in good
sooth. Hart, you
sweare like a com
fit
- 17941645makers wife, not you in good
sooth, and as true as I liue, and as
17961646God
shall mend me, and as
sure as day:
17971647And giue
st such
sarcenet
surety for thy oathes,
17981648As if thou neuer walk
st further then Fin
sbury.
17991649Sweare me Kate like a ladie as thou art,
18001650A good mouth
filling oath, and leaue in
sooth,
18011651And
such prote
st of pepper ginger bread
18021652To veluet gards, and Sunday Citizens.
18051655Hot. Tis the next way to turne tayler, or be redbre
st teacher,
18061656and the indentures be drawn ile away within the
se two houres,
18071657and
so come in when ye will.
Exit. 18091658Glen. Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you are as
slow,
18101659As Hot. Lord Percy is on
fire to go:
By