Mist. Mer. Peace be to your worship, I come as a poor suitor to you, sir, in the behalf of this child.
Merch. Are you not wife to Merry-thought?
Mist. Mer. Yes truly, would I had ne'er seen his eyes, he has undone me and himself, and his children, and there he lives at home and sings and hoits, and revels among his drunken companions; but I warrant you, where to get a penny to put bread in his mouth, he knows not. And therefore if it like your worship, I would entreat your letter to the honest host of the Bell in Waltham, that I may place my child under the protection of his tapster, in some settled course of life.
Merch. I'm glad the Heav'ns have heard my prayers. Thy husband,
When I was ripe in sorrows, laughed at me;
Thy son, like an unthankful wretch, I having
Redeem'd him from his fall, and made him mine,
To show his love again, first stole my daughter:
Then wrong'd this gentleman, and last of all
Gave me that grief, had almost brought me down