A ROOM AT THE MITRE.
ENTER DELIRO, FUNGOSO, AND GEORGE.
Deli.
Come, brother, be not discouraged for this, man; what!
Fung.
No, truly, I am not discouraged; but I protest to you, brother, I
have done imitating any more gallants either in purse or apparel, but as shall become a gentleman, for good carriage, or so.
Deli.
You say well. — This is all in the bill here, is it not?
George.
Ay, sir.
Deli.
There's your money, tell it: and, brother, I am glad I met with so
good occasion to shew my love to you.
Fung.
I will study to deserve it in good truth an I live.
Deli.
What, is it right?
George.
Ay, sir, and I thank you.
Fung.
Let me have a capon's leg saved, now the reckoning is paid.
George.
You shall, sir
[EXIT.
ENTER MACILENTE.
Maci.
Where's signior Deliro?
Deli.
Here, Macilente.
Maci.
Hark you, sir, have you dispatch'd this same?
Deli.
Ay, marry have I.
Maci.
Well then, I can tell you news; Brisk is in the Counter.
Deli.
In the Counter!
Maci.
'Tis true, sir, committed for the stir here to-night. Now would I
have you send your brother home afore him, with the report of this your kindness done him, to his sister, which will so pleasingly possess her, and out of his mouth too, that in the meantime you may clap your action on Brisk, and your wife, being in so happy a mood, cannot entertain it ill, by any means.
Deli.
'Tis very true, she cannot, indeed, I think.
Maci.
Think! why 'tis past thought; you shall never meet the like
opportunity, I assure you.
Deli.
I will do it. — Brother, pray you go home afore (this gentleman and
I have some private business), and tell my sweet wife I'll come presently.
Fung.
I will, brother.
Maci.
And, signior, acquaint your sister, how liberally, and out of his
bounty, your brother has used you (do you see?), made you a man of good reckoning; redeem'd that you never were possest of, credit; gave you as gentlemanlike terms as might be; found no fault with your coming behind the fashion; nor nothing.
Fung.
Nay, I am out of those humours now.
Maci.
Well, if you be out, keep your distance, and be not made a shot-clog any more. — Come, signior, let's make haste.
[EXEUNT.