Sir Boniface. I’ll trust, sir, to your generosity; I will not bargain, but account myself, _Mille et mille modis_, bound to you. Sir Harry. I cannot leave my mills; they’re farmed already: The stipend that I give shall be in money. Taber. Sure, sir, this is some miller that comes to undermine you, in the shape of a schoolmaster. Gratiana. You both mistake the scholar. Sir Harry. I understand my English, that I know; What’s more than modern doth surpass my reach. Sir Boniface, come to me two days hence, You shall receive an answer; I have now Matters of some import that trouble me, Thou shouldst be else despatched. Taber. Sir Boniface, if you come to live in our house, and be a familist amongst us, I shall desire your better acquaintance; your name and my physiognomy should have some consanguinity, good Sir Boniface. Sir Boniface. _Quomodo vales, quomodo vales_. Taber. Go with you to the ale-house? I like the motion well; I’ll make an excuse out of doors and follow you. I am glad yet, we shall have a good-fellow come into the house amongst us. Sir Boniface. _Vale, vir magne_. Sir Harry. You shall not have me at Saint Magnes, my house is here in Gracious-street. Sir Boniface. I know it, sweet knight, I know it. Then, _virgo formosa et Domine gratiose valete_. Sir Harry. Ay, in Gracious-street you shall hear of me, Sir Boniface. [_Exit_ Sir Boniface.] He shall instruct my children; and to thee, Fair Gratiana, read the Latin tongue. Taber. Who shall? Sir Bawdy-face? Sir Harry. Sir Boniface, you fool. Taber. His name is so hard to hit on. Sir Harry. Come, daughter, if things fall out as I intend, My thoughts shall peace have, and these troubles end. [_Exeunt_. ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I.--_A Room in the_ Wise-woman’s _House_. _Enter 2nd_ Luce, _in_ woman’s _apparel, and the_ Wise-woman. Wise-woman. Jack, thou art my boy. 2nd Luce. Mistress! Wise-woman. I’ll be a mother to thee, no mistress. Come, lad, I must have thee sworn to the orders of my house, and the secrets thereof. 2nd Luce. As I am an honest lad, I am yours to command. But, mistress, what mean all these women’s pictures, hanged here in your withdrawing-room? Wise-woman. I’ll tell thee, boy--marry, thou must be secret. When any citizens or young gentlemen come hither, under a colour to know their fortunes, they look upon these pictures, and which of them they best like, she is ready with a wet finger.[4.27] Here they have all the furniture belonging to a private-chamber,--bed, bed-fellow, and all. But mum! thou knowest my meaning, Jack. 2nd Luce. But I see, coming and going, maids, or such as go for maids, some of them as if they were ready to lie down, sometimes two or three delivered in one night; then suddenly leave their brats behind them, and convey themselves into the city again:--what becomes of their children?