Ateu. Why, knave?
Slip. By my troth, sir, because I never knew a proper situation fellow of your pitch fitter to swallow a gudgeon.
Ateu. What meanest thou by this?
Slip. "Shifting fellow," sir,—these be thy words;[263] "shifting fellow": this gentlewoman, I fear me, knew your bringing up.
Ateu. How so?
Slip. Why, sir, your father was a miller, that could shift for a peck of grist in a bushel, and you a fair-spoken gentleman, that can get more land by a lie than an honest man by his ready money.
Ateu. Caitiff, what sayest thou?
Slip. I say, sir, that if she call you shifting knave, you shall not put her to the proof.
Ateu. And why?