_Dickis._ To hugge thee, stroke thee, and embrace thee thus,
And teach thee twentie thousand prety things,
So thou tell no tales; and boy this night
Thou must along with me to a brave feast.

_Boy._ Not I gammer indeed la, I dare not stay out late,
My father is a fell man, and if I bee out long, will both
chide and beat me.

_Dickis._ Not sirra, then perforce thou shalt along,
This bridle helps me still at need,
And shall provide us of a steed.
Now sirra, take your shape and be
Prepar'd to hurrie him and me.

_Exit._

Now looke and tell mee wher's the lad become.

_Boy._ The boy is vanisht, and I can see nothing in his stead
But a white horse readie sadled and bridled.

_Dickis._ And thats the horse we must bestride,
On which both thou and I must ride,
Thou boy before and I behinde,
The earth we tread not, but the winde,
For we must progresse through the aire,
And I will bring thee to such fare
As thou ne're saw'st, up and away,