Fath. No—Master Walter would find it out.
Helen. Will you contrive to get me into her chamber?
Fath. No—you would be sure to bring me into mischief.
Helen. Go to! You would do nothing to serve her. You a soft heart! You have no heart at all! You feel not for her!
Fath. But I tell you I do—and good right I have to feel for her. I have been in love myself.
Helen. With your dinner!
Fath. I would it had been! My pain would soon have been over, and at little cost. A fortune I squandered upon her!—trinkets—trimmings—treatings—what swallowed up the revenue of a whole year! Wasn’t I in love? Six months I courted her, and a dozen crowns all but one did I disburse for her in that time! Wasn’t I in love? An hostler—a tapster—and a constable, courted her at the same time, and I offered to cudgel the whole three of them for her! Wasn’t I in love?
Helen. You are a valiant man, Fathom.
Fath. Am not I? Walks not the earth the man I am afraid of.
Helen. Fear you not Master Walter?