MAR. Yes, sir, this once—for want of company.
CAS. Why, where's my lady and my cousin Musgrave?
MAR. You may go look them both for aught I know.
CAS. What, are you angry, dame?
MAR. Yea, so it seems.
CAS. What is the cause, I prythee?
MAR. Why would you know?
CAS. That I might ease it, if it lay in me.
MAR. O, but it belongs not to your trade.
CAS. You know not that.