Throat. Not a word, sir; here you are as safe
As in your father's house.
T. Small. And he shall thank you.
W. Small. Th' art not merry, love? Good Master Throat,
Bid this gentlewoman welcome: she is one,
Of whom you may receive some courtesy
In time.
Throat. She is most hearty welcome.
Wilt please you walk into another room,
Where is both bed and fire?
W. Small. Ay, ay, that, that.
Good brother, lead her in: Master Throat and I
Will follow instantly. Now, Master Throat,
[Exeunt Thomas Small-Shanks, Frances, and Beard.
It rests within your power to pleasure me:
Know that this same is Sir John Sommerfield's heir;
Now if she chance to question what I am,
Say, son unto a lord: I pray thee, tell her
I have a world of land, and stand in hope
To be created baron; for I protest
I was constrain'd to swear it forty times,
And yet she'll scarce believe me.
Throat. Pauca sapienti:
Let me alone to set you out in length
And breadth.
W. Small. I prythee, do't effectually;
Shalt have a quarter share, by this good light,
In all she has. I prythee, forget not
To tell her the Small-shanks have been dancers,
Tilters, and very ancient courtiers,
And in request at court since Sir John Short-hose
With his long silk stockings was beheaded.
Wilt thou do this?
Throat. Refer it to my care.