Jus. Tut. Why say so, then,
Yet that's almost as ill; go to, speak on.
O. Small. Widow, I must be brief; what old men do,
They must do quickly.
Taf. Then, good sir, do it;
Widows are seldom slow to put men to it.
O. Small. And old men know their cues: my love, you know,
Has been protested long, and now I come
To make my latest tender; an old-grown oak
Can keep you from the rain, and stands as fair
And portly as the best.
Taf. Yet search him well,
And we shall find no pith or hearty timber
To underlay a building. [Aside.
Jus. Tut. I would that oak
Had been a-fire: forward, good Sir Oliver,
Your oak is nought: stick not too much to that.
[Aside.
O. Small. If you can like, you shall be ladyfied,
Live at the court, and soon be got with child.
What, do you think we old men can do nothing?
Jus. Tut. This was somewhat like.
O. Small. You shall have jewels,
A baboon, parrot, and an Iceland[382] dog,
And I myself to bear you company.
Your jointure is five hundred pound by year,
Besides your plate, your chains, and household-stuff,
When envious fate shall change this mortal life.