PRATE. Heyday! I shall mix your business with the king's? DRAP. No, but you may let his majesty know my necessity. PRATE. Sir, sir, you must not confine me to your seasons. I tell you, I will select[165] mine own leisures. _Enter_ VELOURS, _a citizen_. VEL. Master orator, is it your pleasure I attend you about my despatches? PRATE. Sir, it is my pleasure you despatch yourself from mine encumbrance; I tell you, I am for instant business of the king's. VEL. Sir, I have borne my attendance long. PRATE. Bear it till your bones ache, I tell you; I cannot bear it now, I am for new business. DRAP _and_ VEL. Yet the old should be despatched; it was first paid for. PRATE. If you be gentlemen, do not make me mad. DRAP _and_ VEL. Sir, our suits are of great weight. PRATE. If you be Christians, do not make me an atheist. I shall profane if you vex me thus. _Enter the_ LORD MECHANT. What, more vexation? My lord, my lord, save your breath for your broth; I am not now at leisure to attend you. MECH. A word, good master orator. PRATE. Not a word, I beseech your lordship. I am for the king's business; you must attend me at my chamber. [_Exit_ PRATE. MECH., DRAP, _and_ VEL. And everywhere else: we will not leave you. [_Exeunt._ PRE. Now (methinks) my master is like a horse-leech, and these suitors so many sick of the gout, that come to have him suck their blood. O, 'tis a mad world! LOL. Go to, sirrah, you will never leave your crabtree similes; but, pity of me, whom have we here? _Enter_ ALPHONSO. O, 'tis the Lord Alphonso. ALPH. Mistress, God save: nay, your lip, am I[166] a stranger, and how doth Mistress Collaquintida? O, you are an excellent seasoner of city stomachs. COL. Faith, my lord, I have done my best to make somebody relish your sweetmeats. But harkee you, my lord, I have struck the stroke, I have done the deed; there wants nothing but time, place, and her consent. ALPH. Call you that nothing? COL. A trifle, a trifle; upon her, my lord; she may seem a little rough at the first, but if you stand stiffly to her, she'll fall. A word with you, Master Precedent. [_They whisper._ ALPH. Mistress Prate, I am a soldier, and can better act my love than speak it. My suit you know by your neighbour, my love you shall prove by my merit; to both which my tokens have been petty witnesses; and my body shall seal and deliver upon thee such a brave confirmation, that not all the orators in Sicily shall be able to cancel the deed. LOL. Truly, my lord, methinks you, being witty, should be honest.