STEPH. Do as you please; In all thy deeds thou'rt govern'd with good stars; Therefore, if thou cry'st peace, I'll not raise wars. E'en order it how thou wilt. WIFE. I thank ye, sir: then tell me, gentlemen, What present money can you pay? SPEED. Two hundred pound we can lay down. LAMB. And take up seven times as much if we knew where to get it; but there's our lamentable case: mistress, if you strip us any nearer, you'll strip the skin and all, I'll assure you. WIFE. We'll shear no sheep so close. LAMB. No sheep, forsooth, but a poor Innocent Lambskin. CLOWN. You should be a calf by your white face. WIFE. All your two thousand pound, gentlemen, we quit For your two hundred: go, pay the money to my coz, And receive your two bonds cancell'd. [_To_ STEPHEN.] Say, sir, are ye content? STEPH. Wife, I must stand to the arbitrament. Go, cousin, receive their money: [_To_ CLOWN] and, sirrah, Make them drink. CLOWN. I'll make them drink, if they will. Come, gallants, empty your bags, and I'll bumbast your bellies: this lean gentleman looks as if he had no lining in's guts; I could take him by the leg, and hurl him into the dog-house. [_Exeunt_ ROBERT, SPEEDWELL, LAMBSKIN, _and_ CLOWN. STEPH. How now, sweet wife, what art thou musing on? WIFE. I must come a-wooing to you, sir. STEPH. A-wooing, sweet, for what? WIFE. For your brother: O, 'tis unmeet For souls fram'd by one square to grow uneven! 'Tis like a war 'mongst the great lights of heaven; One cannot lose his beauty, but the other Suffers eclipse--so brother against brother. STEPH. Wouldst have me kiss him that would kill me? WIFE. Would you kill a man lying at your feet? Do good for ill. STEPH. Thy songs are angels' tunes, And on thy wings I'll fly with thee to heaven. Thou speakest as I would have thee; His debts I have justly weighed, and find them light. WIFE. The easier then ta'en off. STEPH. Thou sayest most right: But I of purpose keep aloof to try My kinsman, whom I spied most dolefully Hovering about the grate, where his father cried With piteous voice for bread; yet did I chide, And rail'd against the boy, but my heart says (Howe'er my tongue) it was drown'd in tears, To see such goodness in a son. WIFE. Such wheels in children's bosoms seldom run. STEPH. I'll lay a wager, wife, that this two hundred pounds, Paid by these foolish fellows, will by the boy Be given his father. WIFE. Troth, would it might!