Mean. To tell you truth, he hath lost it at doublets.
Cre. With what a lie you'd flap me in the mouth!
Thou hast the readiest invention
To put off anything: thou hadst it from
Thy mother, I'll be sworn: 't ne'er came from me.
Mean. Peace, as you love yourself: if that the knight
Should once perceive that he were given to gaming,
'Twould make him break the match off presently.
Cre. Sir Thomas, here's my son; he may be yours,
If you please to accept him.
And. Father, don't
Give me away for this: try me once more.
Sir T. I like his person well enough, if that
You'll make him an estate convenient.
Mean. He hath more in him, sir, than he can show.
He hath one fault: he's something covetous.
Sir T. Marry, a very commendable fault.
Cre. He is descended of no great high blood:
He hath a house, although he came of none.
His grandfather was a good livery-man,
Paid scot and lot, old Timothy Credulous
My father—though I say it, that should not.
Sir T. I don't regard this thing that you call blood;
'Tis a mere name, a sound.