Sir Boniface. _Adesdem_, come near, and taste of our beer. Welcome, _sine dole_, for _puntis te vole_. Sencer. When I taste of your liquor, Gramercy, Master Vicar. _Re-enter_ Taber _with a bowl of beer and a napkin_. Taber. Most heartily welcome: your courtesy, I beseech you; ply it off, I entreat you. Pray, Sir Boniface, keep the gentleman company, till I acquaint my young master with his business. [_Exit_. Sir Boniface. Taber, I shall _beso las manus_.[4.52] [_They dissemble one to another_. Sencer. _A vostre servitor_. _Enter_ Haringfield. Haringfield. Hey! what art thou? Sencer. A hanger-on, if it please you. Haringfield. And I a shaker-off: I’ll not bear your gallows; You shall not hang on me. [_Enter_ Young Chartley _with his napkin as from dinner_.] Oh, Master Bridegroom! Young Chartley. Gentlemen, the ladies call upon you to dance; they will be out of measure displeased, if, dinner being done, you be not ready to lead them a measure. Haringfield. Indeed, women love not to be scanted of their measure. Young Chartley. Fie, Sir Boniface! have you forgot yourself? Whilst you are in the hall, there’s never a whetstone for their wits in the parlour. Sir Boniface. I will enter and set an edge upon their ingenies. [_Exeunt_ Sir Boniface _and_ Haringfield. Young Chartley. [_To_ Sencer, _who hands him a letter_.] To me, sir! from whom? A letter! To her “most dear, most loving, most kind friend Master Chartley, these be delivered.” Sure from some wench or other. I long to know the content. Sencer. [_Aside_.] Now to cry quittance with you for my “farewell, learned Sir Timothy.” Young Chartley. Good news, as I live! there’s for thy pains, my good Sir Pandarus.[4.53] Hadst thou brought me word my father had turned up his heels, thou couldst scarcely have pleased me better. [_Reads_.] “Though I disclaim the name of wife, of which I account myself altogether unworthy, yet let me claim some small interest in your love. This night I lie at the house where we were married--the Wise-Woman’s I mean--where my maidenhead is to be rifled: bid fair for it, and enjoy it; see me this night or never. So may you, marrying Gratiana, and loving me, have a sweet wife and a true friend. This night or never. Your _quondam_ wife, hereafter your poor sweetheart, no other, Luce.” So, when I am tired with Gratiana, that is when I am past grace with her, I can make my rendezvous. I’ll not slip this occasion, nor sleep till I see her. Thou art an honest lad, and mayst prove a good pimp in time. Canst thou advise me what colour[4.54] I may have to compass this commodity? Sencer. Sir, she this night expects you, and prepares a costly banquet for you. Young Chartley. I’ll go, although the devil and mischance look big.