Rose. Still, I say, there is law.
Quart. Say that again,
And, by Bellona, I will cut thy throat.
Mil. You long to see your brains out.
Quart. Why, you mongrel,
You John-of-all-trades, have we been your guests
Since you first kept a tavern; when you had
The face and impudence to hang a bush
Out to three pints of claret, two of sack,
In all the world?
Sale. After that, when you broke,
Did we here find you out, custom'd your house,
And help'd away your victuals, which had else
Lain mouldy on your hands?
Rose. You did indeed,
And never paid for't. I do not deny,
But you have been my customers these two years;
My jack went not, nor chimney smok'd without you.
I will go farther; your two mouths have been
Two as good eating mouths as need to come
Within my doors; as curious to be pleased,
As if you still had eaten with ready money;
Had still the meats in season; still drank more
Than your ordinary came to.
Sale. And your conscience now
Would have this paid for?
Rose. Surely, so I take it.
Sale. Was ever the like heard?
Quart. 'Tis most unreasonable;
He has a harden'd conscience. Sirrah cheater,
You would be question'd for your reckonings, rogue.