Sir J. Wor. An old man were a fitter match for her:
He would make much of her.
Abra. Much on her? I know not what ye call much making on her, I am sure I have made two on her.
Pen. And that an old man cannot do, I hope.
Nev. O thou beyond Lawrence of Lancashire.[67]
Sir Inn. Come, come, you shall not.
Abra. Speak not in vain; I am too sure to change,
For hand and heart are sure: Ecce signum.
And this have I done, and never lay with her.
Sir J. Wor. Nay, then, 'tis too late;
'Tis sure: 'tis vain to cross the will of fate.
Sir Inn. and LADY. Well, well, God bless you.
[Abraham and Wagtail kneel.
Abra. Thanks, reverend couple, and God bless withal
The little Ninny that herein doth sprawl.
Parson, you shall despatch us presently:
Lord, how soberly you stand!
Par. Now truly I could ne'er stand drunk in my life.