Car. Warbeck and Sue are at it still. I laugh to myself, Master Thorney, to see how earnestly he beats the bush, while the bird is flown into another’s bosom. A very unthrift, Master Thorney; one of the country roaring-lads: we have such as well as the city, and as arrant rake-hells as they are, though not so nimble at their prizes of wit. Sue knows the rascal to an hair’s-breadth, and will fit him accordingly.
O. Thor. What is the other gentleman?
Car. One Somerton; the honester man of the two by five pound in every stone-weight. A civil fellow; he has a fine convenient estate of land in West Ham, by Essex: Master Ranges, that dwells by Enfield, sent him hither. He likes Kate well; I may tell you I think she likes him as well: if they agree, I’ll not hinder the match for my part. But that Warbeck is such another—I use him kindly for Master Somerton’s sake; for he came hither first as a companion of his: honest men, Master Thorney, may fall into knaves’ company now and then.
War. Three hundred a-year jointure, Sue.
Sus. Where lies it?
By sea or by land? I think by sea.
War. Do I look like a captain?
Sus. Not a whit, sir.
Should all that use the seas be reckoned captains,
There’s not a ship should have a scullion in her
To keep her clean.
War. Do you scorn me, Mistress Susan?
Am I a subject to be jeered at?
Sus. Neither
Am I a property for you to use
As stale[417] to your fond wanton loose discourse:
Pray, sir, be civil.
War. Wilt be angry, wasp?