Enter Lurcher.
Lur. Here are my trinkets, and this lusty marriage
I mean to visit, I have shifts of all sorts,
And here are a thousand wheels to set 'em working,
I am very merry, for I know this wedding
Will yield me lusty pillage: if mad Wildgoose
That debosh'd rogue keep but his antient revels,
And breed a hubbub in the house I am happy.
Enter Boy.
Now what are you?
Boy. A poor distressed Boy, Sir,
Friendless and comfortless, that would intreat
Some charity and kindness from your worship,
I would fain serve, Sir, and as fain endeavour
With duteous labour to deserve the love
Of that good Gentleman should entertain me.
Lur. A pretty Boy, but of too mild a breeding,
Too tender, and too bashful a behaviour,
What canst thou do?
Boy. I can learn any thing,
That's good and honest, and shall please [Master.]
Lur. He blushes as he speaks, and that I like not,
I love a bold and secure confidence,
An impudence that one may trust, this boy now:
Had I instructed him, had been a Jewel,
A treasure for my use, thou canst not lye?
Boy. I would not willingly.
Lur. Nor thou hast not wit
To dissemble neatly?