Tub, Pol-martin.

Tub.
I Pray thee, good Pol-martin, shew thy diligence,
And, faith, in both: Get her but so disguis'd,
The Chanon may not know her, and leave me
To plot the rest: I will expect thee here.

Pol.
You shall, Squire. I'll perform it with all care,
If all my Ladies Ward-robe will disguise her.
Come, Mistris Awdrey.

Awd.
Is the Squire gone?

Pol.
He'll meet us by and by, where he appointed:
You shall be brave anon, as none shall know you.