_Cha_. This shewes your love father.
_Bri_. I'm tender to you. _And_. Like a stone, I take it.
_Cha_. Why father, Ile go downe, an't please you let me,
Because Ide see the thing they call the Gentlewoman,
I see no woman but through contemplation,
And there Ile doe't before the company,
And wish my brother fortune. _Bri_. Doe I prithee.
_Cha_. I must not stay, for I have things above
Require my study. _Bri_. No, thou shalt not stay,
Thou shalt have a brave dinner too. _And_. Now has he
Orethrowne himselfe for ever; I will down
Into the Celler, and be stark drunk for anger. _Exeunt_.
_Actus III. Scaena V._
_Enter_ Lewis, Angellina, Eustace, _Priest, Ladies_, Cowsy,
_Notary_, Miramont.
_Not_. Come let him bring his sons hand, and all's done.
Is yours ready? _Pr_. Yes Ile dispatch ye presently,
Immediately for in truth I am a hungry.
_Eust_. Doe speak apace, for we believe exactly
Doe not we stay long Mistris? _Ang_. I find no fault,
Better things well done than want time to doe them.
Uncle, why are you sad? _Mir_. Sweet smelling blossome,
Would I were thine Uncle to thine owne content,
Ide make thy husbands state a thousand, better
A yearlie thousand, thou hast mist a man,
(But that he is addicted to his studie,
And knowes no other Mistresse than his minde)
Would weigh down bundles of these emptie kexes.
_Ang_. Can he speak, Sir? _Mir_.
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