SCENE IV.—London: a Room in Eyre’s House.
Enter Firk, Margery, Hans, and Roger.
Marg. Thou goest too fast for me, Roger. O, Firk!
Firk. Ay, forsooth.
Marg. I pray thee, run—do you hear?—run to Guildhall, and learn if my husband, Master Eyre, will take that worshipful vocation of Master Sheriff upon him. Hie thee, good Firk.
Firk. Take it? Well, I go; an’ he should not take it, Firk swears to forswear him. Yes, forsooth, I go to Guildhall.
Marg. Nay, when? thou art too compendious and tedious.
Firk. O rare, your excellence is full of eloquence; how like a new cart-wheel my dame speaks, and she looks like an old musty ale-bottle[62] going to scalding.