Free. Nay, madam, now I would beg you to hear me a little, a little of my business.
Wid. I have business of my own calls me away, sir.
Free. My business would prove yours too, dear madam.
Wid. Yours would be some sweet business, I warrant. What, 'tis no Westminster Hall business? would you have my advice?
Free. No, faith, 'tis a little Westminster Abbey business; I would have your consent.
Wid. O fy, fy, sir! to me such discourse, before my dear minor there!
Jer. Ay, ay, mother, he would be taking livery and seisin of your jointure by digging the turf, but I'll watch your waters,[98] bully, i'fac.—Come away, mother. [Exit, haling away his Mother.
Re-enter Fidelia.
Fid. Dear sir, you have pity; beget but some in our captain for me.
Free. Where is he?