Lan. I did not think you would have us'd me thus;
A woman of my credit: one, heaven knows,
That lov'd you but too tenderly.
John. Dear Mother,
I ever found your kindness, and [ac]knowledge it.
Lan. No, no, I am a fool to counsel ye. Where's the infant?
Come, let's see your Workmanship.
John. None of mine, Mother,
But there 'tis, and a lusty one.
Land. Heaven bless thee,
Thou hadst a hasty making; but the best is,
'Tis many a good mans fortune: as I live
Your own eyes Signior, and the nether lip
As like ye, as ye had spit it.
John. I am glad on't.
Lan. Bless me, what things are these?
John. I thought my labour
Was not all lost, 'tis gold, and these are jewels,
Both rich, and right I hope.
Lan. Well, well son John,
I see ye are a wood-man, and can chuse
Your dear, though it be i'th' dark, all your discretion
Is not yet lost; this was well clapt aboard:
Here I am with you now; when as they say
Your pleasure comes with profit; when ye must needs do,
Do where ye may be done to, 'tis a wisedom
Becomes a young man well: be sure of one thing,
Lose not your labour and your time together,
It seasons of a fool, son, time is pretious,
Work wary whilst ye have it: since ye must traffick
Sometimes this slippery way, take sure hold Signior,
Trade with no broken Merchants, make your lading,
As you would make your rest, adventurously,
But with advantage ever.
John. All this time Mother,
The child wants looking to, wants meat and Nurses.