buff-coat_.


_Fail_. What! not ready yet, man?

_Burr_. You do not consider my voyage from Holland last night.

_Fail_. Pish, a mere ferry; get up, get up: My cousin's maids will
come and blanket thee anon; art thou not ashamed to lie a-bed so long?

_Burr_. I may be more ashamed to rise; and so you'll say, dear
heart, if you look upon my clothes: the best is, my buff-coat will
cover all.

_Fail_. Egad, there goes more cunning than one would think to the
putting thy clothes together. Thy doublet and breeches are Guelphs and
Ghibellins to one another; and the stitches of thy doublet are so far
asunder, that it seems to hang together by the teeth. No man could
ever guess to what part of the body these fragments did belong, unless
he had been acquainted with 'em as long as thou hast been. If they
once lose their hold, they can never get together again, except by
chance the rags hit the tallies of one another. He, that gets into thy
doublet, must not think to do it by storm; no, he must win it inch by
inch, as the Turk did Rhodes.

_Burr_. You are very merry with my wardrobe; but, till I am
provided of a better, I am resolved to receive all visits in this
truckle-bed.

_Fail_. Then will I first scotch the wheels of it, that it may