Wife. I prithee come again quickly, sweet Ralph.
Ralph. By-and-by. [Exit Ralph.
Enter Jasper and his mother Mistress Merry-thought.
Mist. Mer. Give thee my blessing? No, I'll never give thee my blessing, I'll see thee hang'd first; it shall ne'er be said I gave thee my blessing. Thou art thy father's own son, of the blood of the Merry-thoughts; I may curse the time that e'er I knew thy father, he hath spent all his own, and mine too, and when I tell him of it, he laughs and dances and sings, and cries "A merry heart lives long-a." And thou art a wast-thrift, and art run away from thy master, that lov'd thee well, and art come to me, and I have laid up a little for my younger son Michael, and thou thinkest to bezle that, but thou shalt never be able to do it. Come hither, Michael, come Michael, down on thy knees, thou shalt have my blessing.
Enter Michael.
Mich. I pray you, mother, pray to God to bless me.
Mist. Mer. God bless thee; but Jasper shall never have my blessing, he shall be hang'd first, shall he not, Michael? how sayest thou?
Mich. Yes forsooth, mother, and grace of God.
Mist. Mer. That's a good boy.
Wife. I'faith, it's a fine spoken child.