Qu. Shame? what shame? I thought thou wouldst show thy bringing-up; and thou wert a gentleman as I am, thou wouldst think it no shame to be drunk. Lend me some money, save my credit; I must dine with the serving-men and their wives—and their wives, sirrah! 112
Go. E’en who you will; I’ll not lend thee threepence.
Qu. ’Sfoot; lend me some money; hast thou not Hiren here?[33]
To. Why, how now, sirrah? what vein’s this, ha?
Qu. Who cries on murther? Lady, was it you?[34] how does our master? pray thee cry Eastward-ho!
To. Sirrah, sirrah, y’are past your hiccup now; I see y’are drunk. 121
Qu. ’Tis for your credit, master.
To. And hear you keep a whore in town.
Qu. ’Tis for your credit, master.
To. And what you are out in cash, I know.