Wife. O, they are my old debtors, Speedwell and Lambskin:
Go, call them in: and, my gentle sister,
Comfort yourself and my imprison'd brother,
To whom commend me; give to him this gold;
What good I can I'll do for him, be bold.
Mrs Fos. May heavenly blessings guard you from all ill:
Never was woman vex'd as I am still. [Exit.
Enter Speedwell and Lambskin.
Wife. Now, good Sir Godfrey and Master Innocent.
Lamb. I put my innocent case into your hands, mistress, as a simple country client thrusts his money into a lawyer's, who stands upon no great terms to take it.
Speed. We come about the old business, the sickness of the purse, lady.
Clown. And they'd be loth to keep their beds i' th' counter, mistress; they are afraid of sergeants; Master Lambskin knows that mace[101] is a binder.
Lamb. No, truly it makes me loose, for I never smell it, though it be two streets off, but it gives me a stool presently.
Clown. Ay, you have been a loose liver always: 'tis time to look to you.