Will still be grave and serious, lest he thinke
I feare his woodden dagger. Here, Sir Ambo!
Buss. How, Ambo, Sir?
Maff. I, is not your name Ambo?
Buss. You call'd me lately D'Amboys; has your Worship
So short a head?
Maff. I cry thee mercy, D'Amboys.[210]
A thousand crownes I bring you from my lord;
If you be thriftie, and play the good husband, you may make
This a good standing living; 'tis a bountie,