CIVET.
My name is Master Civet, sir.

DAFFODIL.
A sweet name. God be with you, good Master Civet.

[Exit Civet.]

LANCELOT.
Aye, have we spied you, stout Sir George?
For all your dragon, you had best sells good wine,
That needs no yule-bush: well, we'll not sit by it,
As you do on your horse. This room shall serve:
Drawer, let me have sack for us old men:
For these girls and knaves small wines are best.
A pint of sack, no more.

DRAWER.
A quart of sack in the three Tuns.

LANCELOT.
A pint, draw but a pint.--Daffodil, call for wine to
make your selves drink.

FRANCES.
And a cup of small beer, and a cake, good Daffodil.

[Enter young Flowerdale.]

FLOWERDALE.