Your way you'l be too good, pray end my business. This is
another Sutor, O frail Woman!
_Wel_. This fellow with his bluntness hopes to do more than the long sutes
of a thousand could; though he be sowre he's quick, I must not trust him.
Sir, this Lady is not to speak with you, she is more serious: you smell as
if you were new calkt; go and be hansome, and then you may sit with her
Servingmen.
_El. Lo_. What are you Sir?
_Wel_. Guess by my outside.
_Elder Lo_. Then I take you Sir, for some new silken thing wean'd from the
Country, that shall (when you come to keep good company) be beaten into
better manners. Pray good proud Gentlewoman, help me to your Mistress.
_Abig_. How many lives hast thou, that thou talk'st thus rudely?
_Elder Lo_. But one, one, I am neither Cat nor Woman.
_Wel_. And will that one life, Sir, maintain you ever in such bold
sawciness?
_Elder Lo_. Yes, amongst a Nation of such men as you are, and be no worse
for wearing, shall I speak with this Lady?
_Abig_. No by my troth shall you not.
_Elder Lo_. I must stay here then?
_Wel_. That you shall not neither.
_Elder Lo_. Good fine thing tell me why?
_Wel_. Good angry thing I'le tell you:
This is no place for such companions,
Such lousie Gentlemen shall find their business
Better i'th' Suburbs, there your strong pitch perfume,
Mingled with lees of Ale, shall reek in fashion:
This is no Thames-street, Sir.
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