Volume Vii Part 47 (2/2)

MR GOUR. And with exchange of love I do receive it: Then here we'll part, partners of two curs'd wives.

MR BAR. O, where shall we find a man so bless'd that is not?

But come; your business and my home-affairs Makes me deliver that unfriendly word 'Mongst friends--farewell.

MR GOUR. Twenty farewells, sir.

MR BAR. But hark ye, Master Goursey; Look ye persuade at home, as I will do: What, man! we must not always have them foes.

MR GOUR. If I can help it.

MR BAR. G.o.d help, G.o.d help!

Women are even untoward creatures still.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ PHILIP, FRANCIS, _and his_ BOY, _from bowling_.

PHIL. Come on, Frank Goursey: you have had good luck To win the game.

FRAN. Why, tell me, is't not good, That never play'd before upon your green?

PHIL. 'Tis good, but that it cost me ten good crowns; That makes it worse.

FRAN. Let it not grieve thee, man; come o'er to us; We will devise some game to make you win Your money back again, sweet Philip.

PHIL. And that shall be ere long, and if I live: But tell me, Francis, what good horses have ye, To hunt this summer?

FRAN. Two or three jades, or so.

PHIL. Be they but jades?

FRAN. No, faith; my wag-string here Did founder one the last time that he rid-- The best grey nag that ever I laid my leg over.

BOY. You mean the flea-bitten.

FRAN. Good sir, the same.

BOY. And was the same the best that e'er you rid on?

FRAN. Ay, was it, sir.

BOY. I'faith, it was not, sir.

FRAN. No! where had I one so good?

BOY. One of my colour, and a better too.

FRAN. One of your colour? I ne'er remember him: One of that colour!

BOY. Or of that complexion.

FRAN. What's that ye call complexion in a horse?

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