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This garter is not well tide, fellow: where Wert thou brought up? thou knowest not to tie A rose yet, knave: a little straiter: so, Now, tis indifferent. Who can say that I Am old now? Bun. Marry, that can I or any one which sees you. Suc. Death to my reputation! Sir Geff. Alas, good Captaine, I was meditating how to salute my lady this morning.
Iron and Steele is most convenient for Souldiers; but, since you say it, Nephew, he shall have it: how much must it be? Suc. A score of Angells shall satisfie for the confrontment you have offred me in being dilatory. Sir Geff. Bunch, deliver him ten pounds; but, dee heare.
There is a treasurer in the county, Captaine, pays souldiers pensions: if any be due to you Ile write my letter, you shall receive it. Bun. Faith, there he mett with you. Crac. I see a storme a coming. Uncle, I wilbe answerable upon account: my souldier must have mettall. Sir Geff.
With me, sweet Mr. Bonvill? Sir Geffrey, Pray you vouchsafe your absence; at more leasure We shall discourse. Sir Geff. Bon. Madam we are alone? Lady. You did desire we should. Bon. But are you sure none can oreheare us. Lady. Unles we be to loud: What mooves you to require this secresie? Bon.
Bunch, let be in light gold; 'twill serve his turn as well as heavier: it may be he is one of those projectors transports it beyond sea. Enter Magdalen. Mag. Sir, I come to give you notice my ladyes walkd into the garden. Sir Geff. Life! is she upp so early? Mag. An hower since, beleeve it. Crac. Is my Mistress stirring? Mag. In truth, I know not. Sir Geff.
'I wouldn't be you, I know, said Geoffrey, cracking one between his teeth; 'never let to eat any thing but what's wholesome, and always reading, or doing something stupid. I believe you are helping Rose to play with that doll now. Put it into the fire; that is the way to treat dolls. Stupid things. I hate 'em! 'Pray do not touch it, Geoffrey, said Rose. 'Leave it alone, Geff, said Edward.
Now to begett an active Complement that, like a matins sung By virgins, may enchant her amorous ear. The Spanish Basolas manos sounds, methinks, As harsh as a Morisco kettledrum; The French boniour is ordinary as their Disease: hees not a gent that cannot parlee. I must invent some new and polite phrases. Crac. Shall I have answeare yet, sir. Sir Geff. Pish, you disturbe me.
Sir, for your love I thanke you; for your wealth I want it not; but yet I doe not find A disposicon in my selfe to marriage. Sir Geff. That will not serve my turne; I am no knight Who weares the spurr of honour without Rowells To prick a woman forwards: I ride post To Marriage and resolve at the next stage To take my Inn up. Lady, What say you to this motion. Lady.
I meane mony. Sir Geff. O mony, Nephew: Ide thought youde learnd ith Citty How to use mony: here we do imploy it To purchase land and other necessaries. Suc. Infamy to fame and noble reputation! Old man, dost thou disdaine valour? I tell thee, Catterpillar, I must have mony. Sir Geff. 'Tis reason good you should; it is fitting to cherish men of armes.
O, heeres your uncle, move him; you conceive me; He must disburse. Crac. And 'tis as hard to wrest a penny from him as from a bawd. Enter Sir Gefferie and Bunche. Sir Geff. Erect that locke a little; theres a hayre Which, like a foreman of a shop, does strive To be above his fellowes. Pish! this glasse Is falsly silverd, maks me look as gray As if I were 4 score. Bun. What does he want of it?
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