Fran. Thou putst me in much comfort.

Lan. Put your self in good comfort, if she do not point you out the way, drop no more Rings, she’l drop her self into you.

Fran. I wonder my Brother comes not.

Lan. Let him alone, and feed your self on your own fortunes; come be frolick, and let’s be monstrous wise and full of counsel, drop no more Rings. [Exeunt.

Enter Widow, Fountain, Bellamore, Harebrain.

Wid. If you will needs be foolish you must be used so:  who sent for you? who entertained you Gentlemen? who bid you welcom hither? you came crowding, and impudently bold; press on my patience, as if I kept a house for all Companions, and of all sorts:  will ’have your wills, will vex me and force my liking from you I ne’re ow’d you?

Fount. For all this we will dine with you.

Bel. And for all this will have a better answer from you.

Wid. You shall never, neither have an answer nor dinner, unless you use me with a more staid respect, and stay your time too.

Enter Isabella, Shorthose, Roger, Humphrey, Ralph, with dishes of meat.

Isab. Forward with the meat now.

Rog. Come Gentlemen, march fairly.

Short. Roger, you are a weak Serving-man, your white broath runs from you; fie, how I sweat under this Pile of Beef; an Elephant can do more!  Oh for such a back now, and in these times, what might a man arrive at!  Goose, grase you up, and Woodcock march behinde thee, I am almost foundred.

Wid. Who bid you bring the meat yet? away you knaves, I will not dine these two hours:  how am I vext and chafed! go carry it back and tell the Cook, he’s an arrant Rascal, to send before I called.

Short. Face about Gentlemen, beat a mournfull march then, and give some supporters, or else I perish—­
          
                                        [Exeunt Servants.

Isab. It does me much good to see her chafe thus.

Hare. We can stay Madam, and will stay and dwell here, ’tis good Air.

Fount. I know you have beds enough, and meat you never want.

Wid. You want a little.

Bel. We dare to pretend no.  Since you are churlish, we’l give you Physick, you must purge this anger, it burns you and decays you.

Wid. If I had you out once, I would be at the charge of a portcullis for you.

Enter Valentine.

Val. Good morrow noble Lady.

Wid. Good morrow Sir.  How sweetly now he looks, and how full manly! what slaves were these to use him so!

Val. I come to look a young man I call Brother.

Wid. Such a one was here Sir, as I remember your own Brother, but gone almost an hour agoe.

Val. Good ee’n then.