Wan. I'll follow you, and do what I can to be merry.
Bawd. Why, he stands already.
Wan. Peace, let me alone: I'll make him jostle like the miller's mare, and stand like the dun cow, till thou may'st milk him.
Bawd. Pray break him of his miserableness; it is one of the chief exceptions I have against him. He reared a puppy once, till it was ten days old, with three hap'worth of milk, and then with his own dagger slew it, and made me dress it: blessed myself to see him eat it, and he bid me beg the litter, and swore it was sweeter and wholesomer than sucking rabbits or London pigs, which he called Bellmen's issue.
Par. [Within.] Why, sweet heart!
Wan. Hark! he calls me. We must humour him a little, he'll rebel else.
SCENE VII.
Enter (at the windows) the Widow and Master Careless, Mistress Pleasant and Master Wild, Captain, Master Sad, Constant, Jolly, Secret: a table and knives ready for oysters.
Wid. You're welcome all, but especially Master Jolly. No reply with, I thank your ladyship.
Plea. I beseech you, sir, let us never be better acquainted?