Kate. Mr. Trim! Mr. Trim!
Trim. Things are not as they have been, Mrs. Kate. I now pay the Company, and we that pay money expect a little more ceremony.
Kate. Will your honour please to taste some right French brandy?
Trim. Art thou sure, good woman, 'tis right? [Drinks. How—French—pray—nay, if I find you deceive me, who pay the men——[Drinks.
Kate. Pray, good master, have you spoken to my lord about me?
Trim. I have, but you shall speak to him yourself. Thou hast been a true campaigner, Kate, and we must not neglect thee. Do you sell grey pease yet of an evening, Mrs. Matchlock? [Drinks again.
Kate. Anything to turn the penny, but I got more by crying pamphlets this year, than by anything I have done a great while. Now I am married into the Company again, I design to cross the seas next year. But, master, my husband, a Temple porter, and a Parliament man's footman, last night by their talk made me think there was danger of a peace; why, they said, all the prime people were against a war.
Trim. No, no, Kate, never fear; you know I keep great company. All men are for a war, but some would have it abroad, and some would have it at home in their own country.
Kate. Ay, say you so? Drink about, gentlemen, not a farthing to pay; a war is a war, be it where it will. But pray, Mr. Trim, speak to my lord, that when these gentlemen have shirts I may wash for 'em.