[Exeunt Moore, Brown, Towerson, Strangers and Merchant.
Heigh. And if you be so hot upon your dinner,
Your best way is to haste Pisaro on,
For he is cold enough, and slow enough;
He hath so late digested such cold news.
Wal. Marry, and shall. Hear you, Master Pisaro.
Har. Many Pisaros here![502] Why, how now, Ned,
Where is your Mat,[503] your welcome, and good cheer?
Wal. Come, let us follow him. Why stay we here?
Heigh. Nay, prythee, Ned Walgrave, let's bethink ourselves.
There's no such haste: we may come time enough.
At first Pisaro bad us come to him
'Twixt two or three o'clock at afternoon:
Then was he old Pisaro; but since then,
What with his grief for loss and joy for finding,
He quite forgat himself, when he did bid us,
And afterward forgat that he had bad us.
Wal. I care not. I remember it well enough:
He bad us home, and I will go, that's flat,
To teach him better wit another time.
Har. Here'll be a gallant jest, when we come there,
To see how 'maz'd the greedy chuff will look
Upon the nations, sects, and factions,
That now have borne him company to dinner.
But hark you; let's not go to vex the man.
Prythee, sweet Ned, let's tarry: do not go.
Wal. Not go indeed! you may do what you please:
I'll go, that's flat: nay, I am gone already.
Stay you two, and consider further of it.
Heigh. Nay, all will go, if one. Prythee, stay.
Thou'rt such a rash and giddy-headed youth,
Each stone's a thorn. Heyday! he skips for haste:
Young Harvey did but jest; I know he'll go.