Tom. At your dispose: and I beseech ye too Sir,
For the word civil, and more setled course
It may but put to use, that on the interest
Like a poor Gentleman.
Seb. It shall, to my use,
To mine again: do you see Sir: good fine Gentleman,
I give no brooding mony for a Scrivener,
Mine is for present traffick, and so I'le use it.
Tom. So much for that then.
Enter Dorothy, and four Maids.
Seb. For the main cause Monsieur,
I sent to treat with you about, behold it;
Behold that piece of story work, and view it.
I want a right heir to inherit me,
Not my estate alone, but my conditions,
From which you are revolted, therefore dead,
And I will break my back, but I will get one.
Tom. Will you choose there Sir?
Seb. There, among those Damsels,
In mine own tribe: I know their qualities
Which cannot fail to please me: for their beauties
A matter of a three farthings, makes all perfect,
A little beer, and beef broth: they are sound too.
Stand all a breast: now gentle M. Thomas
Before I choose, you having liv'd long with me,
And happily sometimes with some of these too,
Which fault I never frown'd upon; pray shew me
(For fear we confound our Genealogies)
Which have you laid aboord? speak your mind freely,
Have you had copulation with that Damsel?
Tom. I have.
Seb. Stand you aside then: how with her Sir?