Wel. I shall obey your Lady that sent it, and acknowledge you that brought it to be your Arts Master.

Rog. I am but a Batchelor of Art, Sir; and I have the mending of all under this roof, from my Lady on her down-bed, to the maid in the Pease-straw.

Wel. A Cobler, Sir?

Roger. No Sir, I inculcate Divine Service within these Walls.

Wel. But the Inhabitants of this house do often imploy you on errands without any scruple of Conscience.

Rog. Yes, I do take the air many mornings on foot, three or four miles for eggs:  but why move you that?

Wel. To know whether it might become your function to bid my man to neglect his horse a little to attend on me.

Roger. Most properly Sir.

Wel. I pray you doe so then:  the whilst I will attend your Lady.  You direct all this house in the true way?

Roger. I doe Sir.

Wel. And this door I hope conducts to your Lady?

Rog. Your understanding is ingenious. [Ex. severally.

Enter young Loveless and Savil, with a writing.

Sa. By your favour Sir, you shall pardon me?

Yo.  Lo. I shall bear your favour Sir, cross me no more; I say they shall come in.

Savil. Sir, you forget who I am?

Yo.  Lo. Sir, I do not; thou art my Brothers Steward, his cast off mill-money, his Kitchen Arithmetick.

Sa. Sir, I hope you will not make so little of me?

Yo.  Lo. I make thee not so little as thou art:  for indeed there goes no more to the making of a Steward, but a fair Imprimis, and then a reasonable Item infus’d into him, and the thing is done.

Sa. Nay then you stir my duty, and I must tell you?

Young Lo. What wouldst thou tell me, how Hopps grow, or hold some rotten discourse of Sheep, or when our Lady-day falls?  Prethee farewel, and entertain my friends, be drunk and burn thy Table-books:  and my dear spark of velvet, thou and I.

Sa. Good Sir remember?

Young Lo. I do remember thee a foolish fellow, one that did put his trust in Almanacks, and Horse-fairs, and rose by Hony and Pot-butter.  Shall they come in yet?

Sa.  Nay then I must unfold your Brothers pleasure, these be the lessons Sir, he left behind him.

Young Lo.  Prethee expound the first.

Sa.  I leave to maintain my house three hundred pounds a year; and my Brother to dispose of it.

Young Lo.  Mark that my wicked Steward, and I dispose of it?

Sav.  Whilest he bears himself like a Gentleman, and my credit falls not in him.  Mark that my good young Sir, mark that.

Young Lo.  Nay, if it be no more I shall fulfil it, whilst my Legs will carry me I’le bear my self Gentleman-like, but when I am drunk, let them bear me that can.  Forward dear Steward.