Qua. God’s me, you must not enquire how she does; that’s privy counsel. Fie! there’s manners indeed!
Sim. Pray you, pardon my incivility. I was somewhat
bold with you, but believe me I’ll never be so saucy to ask you how do you again as long as I live. La!
Mel. Square chub, what sullen black is that? 119
Qua. A tassel that hangs at my purse-strings. He dogs me, and I give him scraps, and pay for his ordinary, feed him; he liquors himself in the juice of my bounty; and when he hath suck’d up strength of spirit he squeezeth it in my own face; when I have refined and sharp’d his wits with good food, he cuts my fingers, and breaks jests upon me. I bear them, and beat him; but by this light the dull-ey’d thinks he does well, does very well; and but that he and I are of two faiths—I fill my belly, and [he] feeds his brain—I could find in my heart to hug him—to hug him. 130
Mel. Prithee, persuade him to assume spirit, and salute us.
Qua. Lampatho, Lampatho, art out of countenance? For wit’s sake, salute these beauties. How doest like them?
Lam. Uds fut! I can liken them to nothing but great men’s great horse upon great days, whose tails are truss’d up in silk and silver.
Qua. To them, man; salute them.
Lam. Bless you, fair ladies! God make you all his servants! 141