PEG. Granam, if you did but see him dance, 'twould do your heart good. Lord! 'twould make anybody love him, to see how finely he'll foot it.
MOTHER MIDNIGHT. William, prythee, go home to my house with us, and take a cup of our beer, and learn to know the way again another time.
WILL CRICKET.
Come on, granam. I'll man you home, i' faith.
Come, Peg.
[Exeunt.
Enter GRIPE, old PLOD-ALL and his son PETER, and
CHURMS the lawyer.
PLOD-ALL.
Come hither, Peter; hold up your head.
Where's your cap and leg, sir boy, ha?
PETER PLOD-ALL.
By your leave, Master Gripe.
GRIPE. Welcome, Peter; give me thy hand: thou'rt welcome. By'r Lady, this is a good, proper, tall fellow, neighbour; call you him a boy?
PLOD-ALL.
A good, pretty, square springal,[147] sir.
GRIPE.
Peter, you have seen my daughter, I am sure.
How do you like her? What says she to you?
PETER PLOD-ALL. Faith, I like her well, and I have broken my mind to her, and she would say neither ay nor no. But, thank God, sir, we parted good friends, for she let me kiss her hand, and bad, Farewell, Peter, and therefore I think I am like enough to speed. How think you, Master Churms?