W. SMALL. We cannot stay to talk, for slaves pursue. I have a house shall lodge us, till the priest May make us sure.
O. SMALL. Well, sirrah, love this woman, And when you are man and wife, bring her to me: She shall be welcome.
O. SMALL. I must be gone; I must a-wooing too.
W. SMALL. Jove and Priapus speed you! You'll return?
[_Exeunt_ SIR OLIVER _and_ THOMAS SMALL-SHANKS.
W. SMALL. Why, this came cleanly off, Give me the chain, you little cockatrice; Why, this was luck; 'foot! four hundred crowns Got at a clap! hold still your own, you whore, And we shall thrive.
W. SMALL. Ay, when will your nose and beard perform as much?
FRAN. I am glad he is gone; he put me to the blush When he did ask me of rich Sommerfield's death.
W. SMALL. And took not I my cue?[354] was't not good? Did I not bring you off, you arrant drab, Without a counter-buff?[355] look who comes here-- [_Sings._] _And three merry men, and three merry men,_ _And three merry men be we-a._[356]
BOUT. Still in this vein? I have done you service; The lawyer's house will give you entertainment, Bountiful and free.
W. SMALL. O my second self! Come, let me buss thy beard, we are all made! Why art so melancholy, dost want money? Look, here's gold, and as we pass along, I'll tell thee how I got it: not a word, But that she's Sommerfield's heir; my brother Swallows it with more ease than a Dutchman Does flap-dragons: he comes; now to my lawyers.
Kiss my wife, good brother; she is a wench Was born to make us all.
T. SMALL. I hope no less, You are welcome, sister, into these our parts, As I may say.
W. SMALL. Come now to Ram Alley. There shalt thou lie, Till I provide a priest.
BOUT. O villany! I think he will gull his whole generation; I must make one, since 'tis so well begun: I'll not forsake him, till his hopes be won. [_Exeunt._
THROAT. 'Tis well, I am glad: keep your money, for law Is like a butler's box:[357] while you two strive, That picks up all your money. You are friends?
BOTH. We are, so please you, perfect friends.
THROAT. Why so. Now to the next tap-house; there drink down this, And by the operation of the third pot Quarrel again, and come to me for law: [_Aside._ Fare you well.
BOTH. The gods conserve your wisdom. [_Exeunt Citizens._