ACT I., SCENE I.
Hearsay, Slicer, Shape, Meanwell.
Hear. We're made, my boys, we're made! methinks I am
Growing into a thing that will be worshipp'd.
Slicer. I shall sleep one day in my chain and scarlet
At Spital-sermon.
Shape. Were not my wit such,
I'd put out moneys of being Mayor.
But, O this brain of mine! that's it that will
Bar me the city honour.
Hear. We're cri'd up
O' th' sudden for the sole tutors of the age.
Shape. Esteem'd discreet, sage trainers up of youth.
Hear. Our house becomes a place of visit now.
Slicer. In my poor judgment, 'tis as good my lady
Should venture to commit her eldest son
To us as to the Inns-of-Court: He'll be
Undone here, only with less ceremony.