PHIL. Where's Francis?
MR GOUR. Neither saw we him.
PHIL. Why, this is fine.
What, neither he nor I, nor she nor you,
Nor I nor she, nor you and I, till[411] now,
Can meet, could meet, or e'er, I think, shall meet!
Call ye this wooing? no, 'tis Christmas sport
Of Hob-man-blind[412], all blind, all seek to catch,
All miss—but who comes here?
Enter FRANK and his BOY.
FRAN. O, have I catch'd ye, sir? It was your doing
That made me have this pretty dance to-night;
Had not you spoken, my mother had not scar'd me:
But I will swinge ye for it.
PHIL. Keep the king's peace!
FRAN. How! art thou become a constable?
Why, Philip, where hast thou been all this while?
PHIL. Why, where you were not: but, I pray [you], where's my sister?
FRAN. Why, man, I saw her not; but I have sought her,
As I should seek—
PHIL. A needle, have ye not?
Why you, man, are the needle that she seeks
To work withal! Well, Francis, do you hear?
You must not answer so, that you have sought her;
But have ye found her? faith, and if you have,
God give ye joy of that ye found with her!