_Host._ Friend Will! Twill tell thee--the cavaliers
drink lustily, and of claret and sherris with spice,
whereas, it is true, the elect chiefly do affect ale. But,
O Will! your cavalier--not to speak of my keeping
never a serving wench honest for a month, and I have
daughters now grown--your best cavalier would ever
pull out a long embroidered purse, with one gold piece
in it, regarding which he would briskly swing it round,
and jerking it together, replace in his doublet, saying
between his hiccups, "Prithee, sweet Spigot!" or it
may he, "Jolly Master Gurton! chalk it up; when the
king hath his own again, I will repay thee;" or "I
will go coin it from Noll's ruby nose," and would ride
away singing, and in a fortnight the poor gentleman
would surely be slain. And, as for your worst kind of
cavalier, when I did gently remind him, he would
swear and draw his rapier and make a fearful pass
near my belly--that I was glad to see him depart
with a skinful of mine own wine unpaid for.
Moreover, Master Will, an he were handsome and a
moon-raker, my wife, that is now at rest, would ever take
his part, and cry shame on me for a cuckoldy villain
to teaze a sweet, loyal gentleman so, that would pay
when a could--moreover--

_Will._ Hold! Thy reasons are sufficient--Thou art,
worthy Hezekiah! become a saint, to escape
martyrdom. Methinks I see the gallant foin at thy belly.