Fra. Go to.—Forward, man.
Coom. Wel, sir, so it is, I would not wish ye to marry without my mistres consent.
Fra. And why?
Coom. Nay, theres nere a why but there is a wherefore; I have known some have done the like, and they have daunst a galliard at Beggers bush[1804] for it. 332
Boy. At Beggers bush!—here him no more, maister; he doth bedawbe[1805] ye with his durty speech.—Doe ye heare, sir? how farre stands Beggers bushe from your fathers house, sir? How, thou whorson refuge[1806] of a tailor, that wert prentise to a tailor half an age, and because if thou hadst served ten ages thou wouldst proove but a botcher, thou leapst from the shop board to a blew coate,[1807] doth it become thee to use thy tearmes so? wel, thou degree above a hackney, and ten degrees under a page, sow up your lubber lips, or tis not your sworde and buckler shall keep my poniard from your brest. 342
Coo. Do yee heare, sir? this is your boy.
Fran. How then?
Coom. You must breech him for it. 345
Fran. Must I? how, if I will not?
Coom. Why, then, tis a fine world when boies keep boies, and know not how to use them.