Light. Now, if a man would give but observance to this fellow's prating, he would weary his ears sooner than a barber. Do y' hear, sir? lies there not one Haddit, a gentleman, at this house?
Atlas. Here lies such a gentleman, sir, whose clothes (were they not greasy) would bespeak him so.
Light. Then I pray, sir, when your leisure shall permit, that you would vouchsafe to help me to the speech of him.
Atlas. We must first crave your oath, sir, that you come not with intent to molest, perturb, or endanger him; for he is a gentleman, whom it hath pleased fortune to make her tennis-ball of, and therefore subject to be struck by every fool into hazard.
Light. In that I commend thy care of him, for which friendship here's a slight reward; tell him a countryman of his, one Lightfoot, is here, and[364] [he] will not any way despair of his safety.
Atlas. With all respect, sir; pray, command my house.
[Exit Atlas.
Light. So now I shall have a sight of my cousin gallant: he that hath consumed £800 a year in as few years as he hath ears on his head: he that was wont never to be found without three or four pair of red breeches running before his horse or coach: he that at a meal hath had more several kinds than, I think, the ark contained: he that was admired by niters[365] for his robes of gallantry, and was indeed all that an elder brother might be—prodigal; yet he, whose unthriftiness kept many a house, is now glad to keep house in a house that keeps him, the poor tenant of a porter. And see his appearance! I'll seem strange to him.
Enter Haddit, in poor array.
Had. Cousin Lightfoot, how dost? welcome to the city.