Mer. Your welcome, neighbour, you are welcome, sir; I praie sit downe, your verie welcome both.
Beech. We thanke you for it, and we thinke no lesse.
Now fill two cans of your ould strongest beare;
That make so manie loose their little wits,
And make indentures as they go along.
Mer. Hoe, sister Rachell!
Rach. I come presently,
Enter Rachell.
Mer. Goe draw these gentlemen two cans of beare.
Your negligence that cannot tend the shop,
Will make our customers forsake the house.
Wheres Harry Williams that he staies not here?
Rach. My selfe was busie dressing up the house: As for your man he is not verie well, But sitteth sleeping by the kitchen fier.
Mer. If you are busie, get you up againe; [Exit. Ile draw my neighbours then their drinke my selfe, Ile warrant you as good as any mans,— And yet no better; many have the like. [Exit for Beare.
Neigh. This showes him for a plain and honest man,
That will not flatter with too many wordes;
Some shriltong'd fellowes would have cogd and faind,
Saying, ile draw the best in Christendome.
Beech. Hees none of those, but beares an honest minde, And shames to utter what he cannot prove.