_Lady._ Happy that Cobling Dame, who ere she be That for her own (dear _Rafe_) hath gotten thee. Unhappy I, that nere shall see the day To see thee more, that bear'st my heart away. _Rafe._ Lady farewell, I must needs take my leave. _Lady._ Hard-hearted _Rafe_, that Ladies dost deceive. _Cit._ Hark thee _Rafe_, there's money for thee; give something in the King of _Cracovia_'s house, be not beholding to him. _Rafe._ Lady before I go, I must remember Your fathers Officers, who truth to tell, Have been about me very diligent: Hold up thy snowy hand thou princely maid, There's twelvepence for your fathers Chamberlain. And another shilling for his Cook, For by my troth the Goose was rosted well. And twelve pence for your fathers Horse-keeper, For nointing my horse back, and for his butter There is another shilling. [T]o the maid That washt my boot-hose, there's an English groat, And twopence to the boy that wip't my boots. And last, fair Lady, there is for your self Three pence to buy you pins at _Bumbo_ Fair. _Lady._ Full many thanks, and I will keep them safe Till all the heads be off, for thy sake _Rafe_. _Rafe._ Advance my Squire and Dwarf, I cannot stay. _Lady._ Thou kil'st my heart in parting thus away. [_Exeunt._ _Wife._ I commend _Rafe_, yet that he will not stoop to a _Cracovian_, there's properer women in _London_ than any are there I-wis. But here comes Master _Humphrey_, and his love again, now _George_. _Cit._ I Cunny, peace. _Enter Merchant_, Humphrey, Luce, _and Boy_. _Merc._ Go get you up, I will not be intreated. And Gossip mine I'll keep you sure hereafter From gadding out again, with boys and unthrifts, Come they are womens tears, I know your fashion. Go sirrah, lock her in, and keep the key, [_Exit Luce and Boy._ Safe as [you love] your life. Now my son _Humphrey_, You may both rest assured of my love In this, and reap your own desire. _Hum._ I see this love you speak of, through your daughter. Although the hole be little, and hereafter Will yield the like in all I may or can, Fitting a Christian, and a Gentleman. _Merc._ I Do believe you (my good son) and thank you. For 'twere an impudence to think you flattered. _Hum._ It were indeed, but shall I tell you why, I have been beaten twice about the lye. _Merc._ Well son, no more of complement, my daughter Is yours again; appoint the time and take her. Wee'll have no stealing for it, I my self And some few of our friends will see you married. _Hum._ I would you would i'faith, for be it known I ever was afraid to lye alone. _Mer._ Some three days hence then.