ACTUS III. SCENA II.
Enter Brisac, Andrew, Cook, Lilly.
Bris. Wait on your Master, he shall have that befits him.
And. No Inheritance, Sir?
Bri. You speak like a fool, a coxcomb; he shall have annual means to buy him Books, and find him cloathes and meat, what would he more? Trouble him with Land? 'tis flat against his nature. I love him too, and honour those gifts in him.
And. Shall Master Eustace have all?
Bri. All, all; he knows how to use it, he's a man bred in the world, th'other i'th' Heavens. My Masters, pray be wary, and serviceable; and Cook, see all your Sawces be sharp and poynant in the palate, that they may commend you; look to your Roast and Bak'd meats handsomely, and what new Kick-shaws and delicate made things—Is th' Musick come?
But. Yes, Sir, they're here at Breakfast.
Bri. There will be a Masque too; you must see this Room clean, and, Butler, your door open to all good-fellows; but have an eye to your Plate, for there be Furies; my Lilly, welcome you are for the Linen, sort it, and see it ready for the Table, and see the Bride-bed made, and look the cords be not cut asunder by the Gallants too, there be such knacks abroad. Hark hither, Lilly, to morrow night at twelve a clo[c]k I'le sup w'ye: your husband shall be safe, I'le send ye meat too; before I cannot well slip from my company.
And. Will you so, will you so, Sir? I'le make one to eat it, I may chance make you stagger too.
Bri. No answer, Lilly?
Lil. One word about the Linen; I'le be ready, and rest your Worships still.
And. And I'le rest w'ye, you shall see what rest 'twill be. Are ye so nimble? a man had need have ten pair of ears to watch you.
Bri. Wait on your Master, for I know he wants ye, and keep him in his Study, that the noise do not molest him. I will not fail my Lilly—Come in, sweet-hearts, all to their several duties. [Exeunt.
And. Are you kissing ripe, Sir? Double but my Farm, and kiss her till thy heart ake. These Smock-vermine, how eagerly they leap at old mens kisses, they lick their lips at profit, not at pleasure; and if 't were not for the scurvy name of Cuckold, he should lie with her. I know she'll labour at length with a good Lordship. If he had a Wife now, but that's all one, I'le fit him. I must up unto my Master, he'll be mad with Study— [Exit.