Mich. Mother forsooth.
Mist. Mer. What says my white boy?
Mich. Shall not my Father go with us too?
Mist. Mer. No Michael, let thy Father go snick up, he shall never come between a pair of sheets with me again, while he lives: let him stay at home and sing for his supper boy; come child sit down, and I'll shew my boy fine knacks indeed, look here Michael, here's a Ring, and here's a Bruch, and here's a Bracelet, and here's two Rings more, and here's Money, and Gold by th' eye my boy.
Mich. Shall I have all this Mother?
Mist. Mer. I Michael thou shalt have all Michael.
Cit. How lik'st thou this wench?
Wife. I cannot tell, I would have Ralph, George; I'll see no more else indeed-law, and I pray you let the youths understand so much by word of mouth, for I will tell you truly, I'm afraid o' my boy: come, come George, let's be merry and wise, the child's a fatherless child, and say they should put him into a strait pair of Gaskins, 'twere worse than knot-grass, he would never grow after it.
Enter Ralph, Squire, and Dwarfe.
Cit. Here's Ralph, here's Ralph.