Wife. The easier then ta'en off.
Steph. Thou sayest most right:
But I of purpose keep aloof to try
My kinsman, whom I spied most dolefully
Hovering about the grate, where his father cried
With piteous voice for bread; yet did I chide,
And rail'd against the boy, but my heart says
(Howe'er my tongue) it was drown'd in tears,
To see such goodness in a son.
Wife. Such wheels in children's bosoms seldom run.
Steph. I'll lay a wager, wife, that this two hundred pounds,
Paid by these foolish fellows, will by the boy
Be given his father.
Wife. Troth, would it might!
Steph. In doing me such wrong he does me right.
Ludgate was once my dwelling, and to shew
That I true feeling of his misery knew,
Albe't long since blown o'er, so thou'lt consent,
Within that place I'll raise some monument,
Shall keep our names alive till doomsday.
Wife. I gladly shall agree
To any act that tends to charity.
Enter Master Brewen.
Brew. Come, where's Master Foster? O, you lose time, sir,
Not meeting fortune that comes to kiss you!
The Lord Mayor and Aldermen stay at the Guildhall
Expecting you, as well to set down order
Touching the entertainment of the king,
As to elect you for the following year
A sheriff of London.
Steph. Their loves outstrip my merit:
Yet, since they lay that load on me, I'll bear it,
And wait in scarlet on my liege and king.
But pray resolve me, master alderman,
Why makes the king this visitation?