SCENE VI.

Enter Bright, Newcut, Timothy, Plotwell.

Bright. Save you, Captain Quartfield, and my brave wit,
My man of Helicon. Salute this gentleman,
He is a city wit.

New. A corporation went to the bringing of him forth.

Quart. I embrace him.

Sale. And so do I.

Tim. You are a poet, sir,
And can make verses, I hear?

Sale. Sir, I am
A servant to the Muses.

Tim. I have made
Some speeches, sir, in verse, which have been spoke
By a green Robin Goodfellow from Cheapside conduit,[216]
To my father's company, and mean this afternoon
To make an epithalamium upon my wedding.
A lady fell in love with me this morning:
Ask Master Francis here.

Plot. Heart! you spoil all.
Did not I charge you to be silent?

Tim. That's true;
I had forgot. You are a captain, sir?

Quart. I have seen service, sir.

Tim. Captain, I love
Men of the sword and buff; and if need were,
I can roar too, and hope to swear in time,
Do you see, captain?

Plot. Nay, captain, we have brought you
A gentleman of valour, who has been
In Moorfields often: marry, it has been
To 'squire his sisters, and demolish custards
At Pimlico.[217] [Timothy walks aside.

Quart. Afore me, Master Plotwell;
I never hop'd to see you in silk again.

Sale. I look'd the next Lord Mayor's day to see you o' th' livery,
Or one o' th' bachelor whifflers.[218]

Quart. What, is your uncle dead?

Plot. He may in time: he's gone
To sea this morning, captain; and I am come
Into your order again. But hark you, captain,
What think you of a fish now?

Quart. Mad wags, mad wags.

Bright. By Heaven, it's true. Here we have brought one with us.

New. Rich Seathrift's son: he'll make a rare sea-monster.

Quart. And shall's be merry, i' faith?

Bright. Salewit shall make a song upon him.

New. And Roseclap's boy shall sing it.

Sale. We have the properties of the last fish.[219]

Quart. And if I
At dinner do not give him sea enough,
And afterwards, if I and Salewit do not
Show him much better than he that shows the Tombs,
Let me be turned into a sword-fish myself.

Plot. A natural change for a captain! How now, Roseclap,
Pensive, and cursing the long vacation?
Thou look'st as if thou mean'st to break shortly.

Rose. Ask the captain why I am sad?

Quart. Faith, gentlemen,
I disciplin'd him for his rudeness.

Plot. Why, these
Are judgments, Roseclap, for dear reckonings.

Tim. Art thou the half-crown fellow of the house?

Rose. Sir, I do keep the ordinary.

Tim. Let's have wine enough;
I mean to drink a health to a lady.

Plot. Still
Will you betray your fortune? One of them
Will go and tell her who you are, and spoil
The marriage.

Tim. No; peace! Gentlemen, if you'll
Go in, we'll follow.

Rose. Please you enter, dinner
Shall straight be set upon the board.

Bright. We'll expect you. Come, gentlemen.

[Exeunt Bright, Newcut, Salewit, Quartfield, and Roseclap.

Tim. But, Master Francis, was that
The business, why she call'd you back?

Plot. Believe it;
Your mother's smock shin'd at your birth, or else
You wear some charm about you.

Tim. Not I, truly.

Plot. It cannot be she should so strangely doat
Upon you else. 'Slight! had you stay'd, I think
She would have woo'd you herself.

Tim. Now I remember,
One read my fortune once, and told my father,
That I should match a lady.

Plot. How things fall out!

Tim. And did she ask you who I was?

Plot. I told her you were a young knight.

Tim. Good.

Plot. Scarce come to th' years of your discretion yet.

Tim. Good still.

Plot. And that a great man
Did mean to beg you[220]——for his daughter.

Tim. Most rare: this afternoon's the time.

Plot. Faith, she
Looks you should use a little courtship first;
That done, let me alone to have the priest
In readiness.

Tim. But were I not best ask my friends' consent?

Plot. How! Friends' consent? that's fit
For none but farmers' sons and milkmaids. You shall not
Debase your judgment. She takes you for a wit,
And you shall match her like one.

Tim. Then I will.

Plot. But no more words to th' gallants.

Tim. Do you think I am a sieve, and cannot hold?

Enter Roseclap.

Rose. Gentlemen, the company are sat.

Tim. It shall be yours.

Plot. Nay, sir, your fortune claims precedency. [Exeunt.