Waspe. Pardon me, sir, neither they nor you can apprehend me yet. You are an ass.—I have a young master, he is now upon his making and marring; the whole care of his well-doing is now mine. His foolish schoolmasters have done nothing but run up and down the county with him to beg puddings and cake-bread of his tenants, and almost spoil’d him; he has learn’d nothing but to sing catches, and repeat Rattle bladder, rattle! and O Madge! I dare not let him walk alone, for fear of learning of vile tunes, which he will sing at supper, and in the sermon-times! If he meet but a carman in the street, and I find him not talk to keep him off on him, he will whistle him and all his tunes over at night in his sleep! He has a head full of bees! I am fain now, for this little time I am absent, to leave him in charge with a gentlewoman: ’tis true she is a justice of peace his wife, and a gentlewoman of the hood, and his natural sister; but what may happen under a woman’s government, there’s the doubt. Gentlemen, you do not know him; he is another manner of piece than you think for: but nineteen years old, and yet he is taller than either of you by the head, God bless him!
Quar. Well, methinks this is a fine fellow.
Winw. He has made his master a finer by this description, I should think.
Quar. ’Faith, much about one, it is cross and pile, whether for a new farthing.
Waspe. I’ll tell you, gentlemen—
Lit. Will’t please you drink, master Waspe?
Waspe. Why, I have not talk’d so long to be dry, sir. You see no dust or cobwebs come out o’ my mouth, do you? you’d have me gone, would you?
Lit. No, but you were in haste e’en now, master Numps.
Waspe. What an I were! so I am still, and yet I will stay too; meddle you with your match, your Win there, she has as little wit as her husband, it seems: I have others to talk to.