BAL. Why, sir, the old news: your man Francis riots still; And little hope of thrift there is in him. Therefore I come to advise your worship To take some order while there's something left: The better part of his best ware's consum'd. SIR LIONEL. Speak softly, Master Balance. But is there no hope of his recovery? BAL. None at all, sir; for he's already laid to be arrested by some that I know. SIR LIONEL. Well, I do suffer for him, and am loth Indeed to do what I'm constrain'd to do: Well, sir, I mean to seize on what is left. And, hark ye--one word more. [_Whispers._ JOYCE. What heinous sin has yonder man committed, To have so great a punishment, as wait Upon the humours of an idle fool? A very proper fellow, good leg, good face, A body well-proportioned; but his mind Bewrays he never came of generous kind. _Enter_ WILL RASH _and_ GERALDINE. SIR LIONEL. Go to; no more of this at this time. What, sir, are you come? W. RASH. Yes, sir; and have made bold to bring a guest along. SIR LIONEL. Master Geraldine's son of Essex? GERA. The same, sir. SIR LIONEL. You're welcome, sir; when will your father be in town? GERA. 'Twill not be long, sir. SIR LIONEL. I shall be glad to see him when he comes. GERA. I thank you, sir. SIR LIONEL. In the meantime, you're welcome; pray, be not strange. I'll leave my son amongst you, gentlemen. I have some business. Hark you, Master Balance--Dinner will soon be ready. One word more---- [_Exeunt_ SIR LIONEL _and_ BALANCE. W. RASH. And how does my little Asinus and his _Tu quoque_, here? O, you pretty sweet-faced rogues! that for your countenances might be Alexander and Lodwick.[193] What says the old man to you! will't be a match? shall we call brothers? SCAT. I' faith, with all my heart: if Mistress Gertrude will, we will be married to-morrow. BUB. 'Sfoot, if Mistress Joyce will, we'll be married to-night. W. RASH. Why, you courageous boys, and worthy wenches made out of wax! But what shall's do when we have dined? shall's go see a play? SCAT. Yes, faith, brother, if it please you: let's go see a play at the Globe. BUB. I care not; any whither, so the clown have a part; for, i' faith, I am nobody without a fool. GERA. Why, then, we'll go to the Red Bull: they say Green's a good clown. BUB. Green! Green's an ass. SCAT. Wherefore do you say so? BUB. Indeed, I ha' no reason; for they say he is as like me as ever he can look. SCAT. Well, then, to the Bull. W. RASH. A good resolution!--continue it: nay, on. BUB. Not before the gentlewomen; not I, never. W. RASH. O, while you live, men before women: custom hath placed it so. BUB. Why, then, custom is not so mannerly as I would be. [_Exeunt_ BUBBLE _and_ SCATTERGOOD.