Lus. By this light, and so they can; give 'em their due, men are not comparable to 'em.
Ven. No, that's true; for you shall have one woman knit more in an hour, than any man can ravel again in seven-and-twenty years.
Lus. Now my desires are happy; I'll make 'em freemen now.
Thou art a precious fellow; faith, I love thee;
Be wise and make it thy revenue; beg, beg;
What office couldst thou be ambitious for?
Ven. Office, my lord! marry, if I might have my wish, I would have one that was never begged yet.
Lus. Nay, then, thou canst have none.
Ven. Yes, my lord, I could pick out another office yet; nay, and keep a horse and drab upon't.
Lus. Prythee, good bluntness, tell me.
Ven. Why, I would desire but this, my lord—to have all the fees behind the arras, and all the farthingales that fall plump about twelve o'clock at night upon the rushes.
Lus. Thou'rt a mad, apprehensive knave; dost think to make any great purchase of that?
Ven. O, 'tis an unknown thing, my lord; I wonder't has been missed so long.