PHIL. Well said, wisdom! God send thee wise children!
NICH. And you more money.
PHIL. Ay, so wish I.
NICH. 'Twill be a good while, ere you wish your skin full of eyelet-holes.
PHIL. Frank, hark ye: brother, now your wooing's done,
The next thing now you do is for a son,
I prythee; for, i'faith, I should be glad
To have myself called nunkle[444], and thou dad.
Well, sister, if that Francis play the man,
My mother must be grandam and you mam.
To it, Francis—to it, sister!—God send ye joy!
'Tis fine to sing, dancey, my own sweet boy!
FRAN. Well, sir, jest on.
PHIL. Nay, sir[445], do you jest on.
MR BAR. Well, may she prove a happy wife to him!
MR GOUR. And may he prove as happy unto her!
SIR RALPH. Well, gentlemen, good hap betide them both!
Since 'twas my hap thus happily to meet,
To be a witness of this sweet contract,
I do rejoice; wherefore, to have this joy
Longer present with me, I do request
That all of you will be my promis'd guests:
This long night's labour doth desire some rest,
Besides this wished end; therefore, I pray,
Let me detain ye but a dinner time:
Tell me, I pray, shall I obtain so much?