th' mercers books.
_Bar._ I have heard of a fellow, that by a fixt
imagination looking upon a bulbaiting, had a
visible paire of hornes grew out of his forhead:
and I beleeve this gallant overjoyed with the
conceit of Monsieurs cast suit, imagines himselfe
to be the Monsieur.
_L'An._ And why not? as well as the asse
stalking in the lions case, bare himselfe like a
lion, braying all the huger beasts out of the
forrest?
_Pyr._ Peace! he looks this way.
_Bar._ Marrie, let him look, sir; what will you
say now if the Guise be gone to fetch a blanquet
for him?
_L'An._ Faith, I beleeve it, for his honour sake.
_Pyr._ But, if D'Ambois carrie it cleane?
Exeunt Ladies.
_Bar._ True, when he curvets in the blanquet.
_Pyr._ I, marrie, sir.
_L'An._ Sfoot, see how he stares on's.
_Bar._ Lord blesse us, let's away.
_Buss._ Now, sir, take your full view: who
does the object please ye?
_Bar._ If you aske my opinion, sir, I think
your suit sits as well as if't had beene made for
you.
_Buss._ So, sir, and was that the subject of your
ridiculous joylity?
_L'An._ What's that to you, sir?
_Buss._ Sir, I have observ'd all your fleerings;
and resolve your selves yee shall give a strickt
account for't.
Enter Brisac, Melynell.
_Bar._ O miraculous jealousie! Doe you think
your selfe such a singular subject for laughter
that none can fall into the matter of our merriment
but you?
_L'An._ This jealousie of yours, sir, confesses
some close defect in your selfe that wee never

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