Sir Gr. Would I had known so much,
I could ha' stopt a beggers mouth by th' way.
Enter Page and Fidlers boy.
That rail'd upon me, 'cause I'd give her nothing—
What, are they come?
Pag. And plac'd directly, Sir,
Under her window.
Sir Gr. What may I call you, Gentleman?
Boy. A poor servant to the Viol, I'm the Voice, Sir.
Sir Gr. In good time Master Voice?
Boy. Indeed good time does get the mastery.
Sir Gr. What Countreyman, Master Voice.
Boy. Sir, born at Ely, we all set up in El[y,]
But our house commonly breaks in Rutland-shire.