Moth. No I warrant thee, out of my doors.
Vio. Indeed I'll mend, I pray speak you for me.
Alex. If thou hadst hurl'd down any thing but the Pie-meat, I would have spoke for thee, but I cannot find in my heart now.
Moth. Art thou here yet? I think I must have an Officer to thrust thee out of my doors, must I?
Vio. Why, you may stop this in my wages too,
For God's sake do, I'll find my self this year;
And let me stay.
Mer. Thou't spoil ten times as much, I'll cudgel thee out of my doors.
Vio. I am assur'd you are more merciful,
Than thus to beat me and discharge me too.
Moth. Dost thou dispute with me, Alexander carry the prating hilding forth.
Vio. Good Mistriss hear me, I have here a Jewel,
My Mother left me, and 'tis something worth:
Receive it, and when all my faults together
Come to the worth of that, then turn me forth,
Till then I pray you keep me.
Moth. What giggombob have we here? pray god you have not pilfred this somewhere, th'art such a puling thing, wipe your eyes, and rise, go your ways, Alexander, bid the Cook mince some more meat, come, and get you to bed quickly, that you may up betime i'th' morning a milking, or you and I shall fall out worse yet. [Exit Moth, and Alex.