+Rose.+ Ask the captain why I am sad? +Quart.+ Faith, gentlemen, I disciplin'd him for his rudeness. +Plot.+ Why, these Are judgments, Roseclap, for dear reckonings. +Tim.+ Art thou the half-crown fellow of the house? +Rose.+ Sir, I do keep the ordinary. +Tim.+ Let's have wine enough; I mean to drink a health to a lady. +Plot.+ Still Will you betray your fortune? One of them Will go and tell her who you are, and spoil The marriage. +Tim.+ No; peace! Gentlemen, if you'll Go in, we'll follow. +Rose.+ Please you enter, dinner Shall straight be set upon the board. +Bright.+ We'll expect you. Come, gentlemen. [_Exeunt +Bright+, +Newcut+, +Salewit+, +Quartfield+, and +Roseclap+._ +Tim.+ But, Master Francis, was that The business, why she call'd you back? +Plot.+ Believe it; Your mother's smock shin'd at your birth, or else You wear some charm about you. +Tim.+ Not I, truly. +Plot.+ It cannot be she should so strangely doat Upon you else. 'Slight! had you stay'd, I think She would have woo'd you herself. +Tim.+ Now I remember, One read my fortune once, and told my father, That I should match a lady. +Plot.+ How things fall out! +Tim.+ And did she ask you who I was? +Plot.+ I told her you were a young knight. +Tim.+ Good. +Plot.+ Scarce come to th' years of your discretion yet. +Tim.+ Good still. +Plot.+ And that a great man Did mean to beg you[220]----for his daughter. +Tim.+ Most rare: this afternoon's the time. +Plot.+ Faith, she Looks you should use a little courtship first; That done, let me alone to have the priest In readiness. +Tim.+ But were I not best ask my friends' consent? +Plot.+ How! Friends' consent? that's fit For none but farmers' sons and milkmaids. You shall not Debase your judgment. She takes you for a wit, And you shall match her like one. +Tim.+ Then I will. +Plot.+ But no more words to th' gallants. +Tim.+ Do you think I am a sieve, and cannot hold? _Enter +Roseclap+._ +Rose.+ Gentlemen, the company are sat. +Tim.+ It shall be yours. +Plot.+ Nay, sir, your fortune claims precedency. [_Exeunt._ SCENE VII. _+Warehouse+, +Seathrift+, +Cypher+._ +Ware.+ Fetch'd abroad by two gallants, say you? +Cyph.+ Yes, sir, As soon as you were gone: he only stay'd To put on other clothes. +Sea.+ You say, my son went with 'em too? +Cyph.+ Yes, sir. +Ware.+ And whither went they? +Cyph.+ I follow'd 'em to Roseclap's ordinary. +Ware.+ And there you left 'em? +Cyph.+ Yes, sir, just before I saw some captains enter. +Sea.+ Well, I give My son for lost, undone past hope.