Mer. Let others suppe, ile make a bloudier feast
Then ever yet was drest in Merryes house.
Be like thy selfe then, have a merrie hart,
Thou shalt have gold to mend thy povertie,
And after this live ever wealthilie.
Then Merry must passe to Beeches shoppe, who must sit in his shop, and Winchester his boy stand by: Beech reading.
What, neighbour Beech, so godly occupied?
Beech. I, maister Merry; it were better reade, Then meditate on idle fantasies.
Mer. You speake the trueth; there is a friend or two Of yours making merry in my house, And would desire to have your company.
Beech. Know you their names?
Mer. No truely, nor the men. I never stoode to question them of that, But they desire your presence earnestlie.
Beech. I pray you tell them that I cannot come,
Tis supper time, and many will resort
For ware at this time, above all other times;
Tis Friday night besides, and Bartholomew eve,
Therefore good neighbour make my just excuse.
Mer. In trueth they told me that you should not stay, Goe but to drinke, you may come quick againe,— But not and if my hand and hammer hold. [(To the) people.
Beech. I am unwilling, but I do not care, And if I go to see the Company.