Mall, in and get things ready. Laurentia,
Bid Maudlin lay the cloth, take up the meat.
Look, how she stirs; you sullen elf, you callet!
Is this the haste you make?
[Exeunt Marina and Laurentia.
Alv. Signor Pisaro, nè soit so malcontento: de gentlewoman your figliola dit parla but a litella to de gentlehomo our grande amico.
Pis. But that grande amico is your grande inimico:
One, if they be suffered to parlar,
Will poll you, ay, and pill you of your wife.
They love together, and the other two
Love her two sisters: but 'tis only you
Shall crop the flower that they esteem so much.
Alv. Do dey so? Vel let me lone, sal see me give dem de such, grand mock, sal be shame of demselves.
Pis. Do, sir,
I pray you do: set lustily upon them,
And I'll be ready still to second you.
Wal. But, Mat, art thou so mad as to turn French?
Math. Yes, marry, when two Sundays come together.
Think you I'll learn to speak this gibberish[504],
Or the pig's language? Why, if I fall sick,
They'll say the French et cœtera infected me.
Pis. Why, how now, minion! what, is this your service?
Your other sisters busy are employ'd,
And you stand idle: get you in, or—
Wal. If you chide her, chide me, Master Pisaro;
For but for me she had gone in long since.