_Mer._ This Widow seems a Gallant. _Uncle._ A goodly Woman, and to her handsomness she bears her state, reserved, and great Fortune has made her Mistress of a full means, and well she knows to use it. _M[e]r._ I would _Valentine_ had her. _Uncle._ There's no hope of that, Sir. _Mer._ O' that condition, he had his Mortgage in again. _Uncle._ I would he had. _Mer._ Seek means, and see what I'le do, however let the Money be paid in, I never sought a Gentlemans undoing, nor eat the bread of other mens vexations, you told me of another Brother. _Uncle._ Yes Sir, more miserable than he, for he has eat him, and drunk him up, a handsome Gentleman, and fine Scholar. _Enter three_ Tenants. _Mer._ What are these? _Unc._ The Tenants, they'll do what they can. _Mer._ It is well prepared, be earnest, honest friends, and loud upon him, he is deaf to his own good. _Lance._ We mean to tell him part of our minds an't please you. _Mer._ Do, and do it home, and in what my care may help, or my perswasions when we meet next. _Unc._ Do but perswade him fairly; and for your money, mine, and these mens thanks too, and what we can be able. _Mer._ Y'are most honest, you shall find me no less, and so I leave you, prosper your business my friends. [_Ex._ Mer. _Unc._ Pray Heaven it may, Sir. _Lance._ Nay if he will be mad, I'le be mad with him, and tell him that I'le not spare him, his Father kept good Meat, good Drink, good Fellows, good Hawks, good Hounds, and bid his Neighbours welcome; kept him too, and supplied his prodigality, yet kept his state still; must we turn Tenants now, after we have lived under the race of Gentry, and maintained good Yeomantry, to some of the City, to a great shoulder of Mutton and a Custard, and have our state turned into Cabbidge Gardens, must it be so? _Unc._ You must be milder to him. _Lance._ That's as he makes his game. _Unc._ Intreat him lovingly, and make him feel. _Lance._ I'le pinch him to the bones else. [_Valen._ _Within_.] And tell the Gentleman, I'le be with him presently, say I want money too, I must not fail boy. _Lance._ You'l want Cloaths, I hope. _Enter_ Valentine. _Val._ Bid the young Courtier repair to me anon, I'le read to him. _Unc._ He comes, [b]e diligent, but not too rugged, start him, but affright him not. _Val._ Phew, are you there? _Unc._ We come to see you Nephew, be not angry. _Val._ Why do you dog me thus, with these strange people? why, all the world shall never make me rich more, nor master of these troubles. _Tenants._ We beseech you for our poor Childrens sake. _Val._ Who bid you get 'em? have you not threshing work enough, but Children must be bang'd out o'th' sheaf too? other men with all their delicates, and healthful diets, can get but wind eggs: you with a clove of Garlick, a piece of Cheese would break a Saw, and sowre Milk, can mount like Stallions, and I must maintain these tumblers.