Jane. It is
The voice of angels to me. I had thought
Nothing in all the store of nature could
Have added to that love wherewith I do
Reverence that name, my father, till that you
Spoke this.
Sir T. I know your former loves: grow up
Into an aged pair, yet still seem young.
May you stand fresh, as in your pictures, still,
And only have the reverence of the aged.
I thank you for your pains, Master Constable:
You may dismiss your watch now.
Shape. [Disguised as a Constable.] A pox on't!
That, after all this, ne'er a man to carry
To prison! Must poor tradesmen be brought out,
And nobody clapp'd up?
Mean. That you mayn't want
Employment, friends, take this, I pray, and drink it.
Slicer. [Disguised.] Sir, when y' are cheated next, we are your servants.
[Exeunt all but Shape, Hearsay, and Slicer.
SCENE V.
Shape, Slicer, Hearsay.
Shape. Lie thou there, watchman. How the knave that's look'd for
May often lurk under the officer!
Invention, I applaud thee.
Hear. London air,
Methinks, begins to be too hot for us.