[_Exit._ Sir _Fran._ Do so, pray now. Squire _Humph._ Feather, I had rather they had run away with heavy _George_ than the goose-pye; a slice of it before supper to-night would have been pure. Lady _Head._ This boy is always thinking of his belly. Sir _Fran._ But, my dear, you may allow him to be a little hungry after a journey. Lady _Head._ Pray, good Sir _Francis_, he has been constantly eating in the coach, and out of the coach, above seven hours this day. I wish my poor girl could eat a quarter as much. Miss _Betty._ Mama, I could eat a good deal more than I do, but then I should grow fat mayhap, like him, and spoil my shape. Lady _Head._ Mrs. _Motherly_ will you be so kind to tell them where they shall carry the things. Mrs. _Moth._ Madam I'll do the best I can: I doubt our closets will scarce hold 'em all, but we have garrets and cellars, which, with the help of hiring a store-room, I hope may do. Sir, will you be so good to help my maids a little in carrying away the things. [_To ~Tom~._ _Tom._ With all my heart, forsooth, if I con but see my way; but these whoresons have awmost knockt my eyen awt. [_They carry off the things._ Mrs. _Moth._ Will your ladyship please to refresh yourself with a dish of tea, after your fatigue? I think I have pretty good. Lady _Head._ If you please, Mrs. _Motherly_. Squire _Humph._ Would not a good tankard of strong beer, nutmeg and sugar, do better, feather, with a toast and some cheese? Sir _Fran._ I think it would, son: Here, _John Moody_, get us a tankard of good heavy stuff presently. _John Moody._ Sir, here's _Norfolk Nog_ to be had next door. Squire _Humph._ That's best of all, feather; but make haste with it, _John_. [_Exit ~Moody~._ Lady _Head._ Well, I wonder, Sir _Francis_, you will encourage that lad to swill his guts thus with such beastly lubberly liquor; if it were _Burgundy_ or _Champain_, something might be said for't; they'd perhaps give him some wit and spirit; but such heavy, muddy stuff as this, will make him quite stupid. Sir _Fran._ Why you know, my dear, I have drank good ale, and strong beer these thirty years, and by your permission I don't know, that I want wit. _Miss Betty._ But I think you might have more papa, if you'd have been govern'd by my mother. _Enter ~John Moody~ with a tankard._ Sir _Fran._ Daughter, he that is govern'd by his wife, has no wit at all. Miss _Betty._ Then I hope I shall marry a fool, father, for I shall love to govern dearly. Sir _Fran._ Here, _Humphry_, here's to thee. [_Drinks._ You are too pert, child it don't do well in a young woman.