[Exeunt.]
ACT III. SCENE III. A high road in Kent.
[Enter sir John of Wrotham and Doll.]
DOLL.
By my troth, thou art as jealous a man as lives.
PRIEST. Canst thou blame me, Doll? thou art my lands, my goods, my jewels, my wealth, my purse. None walks within xl. miles of London, but a plies thee as truly as the parish does the poor man’s box.
DOLL. I am as true to thee as the stone is in the wall; and thou knowest well enough, sir John, I was in as good doing, when I came to thee, as any wench need to be; and therefore thou hast tried me, that thou hast: by God’s body, I will not be kept as I have been, that I will not.
PRIEST. Doll, if this blade hold, there’s not a peddlar walks with a pack, but thou shalt as boldly choose of his wares, as with thy ready money in a Merchant’s shop. We’ll have as good silver as the King coins any.
DOLL.
What, is all the gold spent you took the last day from the
Courtier?
PRIEST. Tis gone, Doll, tis flown; merely come, merely gone: he comes a horse back that much pay for all. We’ll have as good meat as money can get, and as good gowns as can be bought for gold. Be merry, wench, the malt-man comes on Monday.
DOLL. You might have left me at Cobham, until you had been better provided for.