Enter Merchant, and Master Humphrey.
Mer. Come, Sir, she's yours, upon my faith she's yours,
You have my hand, for other idle letts
Between your hopes and her, thus, with a wind,
They are scattered, and no more: my wanton Prentice,
That like a bladder blew himself with love,
I have lett out, and sent him to discover
New masters yet unknown.
Humph. I thank you Sir,
Indeed I thank you, Sir, and e'r I stir,
It shall be known however you do deem,
I am of gentle blood and gentle seem.
Mer. Oh Sir, I know it certain.
Hum. Sir, my friend,
Although as Writers say, all things have end,
And that we call a Pudding, hath his two,
Oh let it not seem strange I pray to you,
If in this bloudy simile, I put
My love, more endless, than frail things or gut.
Wife. Husband,
I prethee sweet lamb tell me one thing,
But tell me truly:
Stay youths I beseech you,
Till I question my Husband.
Cit. What is it Mouse?
Wife. Sirrah,
Didst thou ever see a prettier child?
How it behaves it self, I warrant ye:
And speaks and looks, and pearts up the head?
I pray you brother with your favour,
Were you never none of Mr. Moncasters Scholars?
Cit. Chickin,
I prethee heartily contain thy self,
The childer are pretty childer,
But when Ralph comes, Lamb.
Wife. I when Ralph comes, Conie,
Well my youth you may proceed.