Greedy. Store indeed's no sore, sir.

Sir G. That proverb fits your stomach, Mr. Greedy.

Greedy. It does indeed, Sir Giles;

I do not like to see a table ill spread,
Poor, meagre, just sprinkled o'er with salads,
Slic'd beef, giblets, and pigs' pettitoes.

But the substantials-Oh! Sir Giles, the substantials!

The state of a fat turkey now,

The decorum, the grandeur he marches in with.
Then his sauce, with oranges and onions,

O, I declare, I do much honour a chine of beef!
O, lord! I do reverence a loin of veal!

Sir G. You shall have your will, Mr. Greedy,
And let no plate be seen, but what's pure gold,
Or such, whose workmanship exceeds the matter
That it is made of; let my choicest linen

Perfume the room; and when we wash, the water
With precious powders mix, to please my lord,
That he may with envy wish to bathe so ever.
Mar. "Twill be very chargeable.

Sir G. Avaunt, you drudge!

Now all my labour'd ends are at the stake,
Is't time to think of thrift? Call in my daughter.

[Exit MARALL.

And, master of justice, since you love choice dishes, And plenty of 'em

Greedy. As I do indeed, sir,

Almost as much as to give thanks for 'em

Sir G. I do confer that province, with my power Of absolute command, to have abundance,

To your best care.

Greedy. I'll punctually discharge it,

And give the best direction. [SIR GILES retires.]→ Now am I,

In mine own conceit, a monarch, at the least,

Arch president of the boil'd, the roast, the baked;

I would not change my empire for the great Mogul's.
Mercy on me, how I lack food! my belly

Is grown together like an empty satchell.
What an excellent thing did Heav'n bestow on man,
When she did give him a good stomach !
It is of all blessings much the greatest.

I will eat often, and give thanks

When my belly's brac'd up like a drum, and that's pure justice.

Sir G. It must be so. prove modest,

[Exit.

Should the foolish girl

She may spoil all; she had it not from me,
But from her mother; I was ever forward,
As she must be, and therefore I'll prepare her.

garet!

Enter MARGARET.

Marg. Your pleasure, sir?

Sir G. Ha! this is a neat dressing!

Mar

These orient pearls, and diamonds well plac'd too!
The gown affects me not; it should have been
Embroider'd o'er and o'er with flowers of gold;
But these rich jewels and quaint fashion help it.
How like you your new woman, the Lady Down-
fall'n?

Marg. Well for a companion:

Not as a servant.

Sir G. Is she humble, Meg?

And careful too, her ladyship forgotten?

Marg. I pity her fortune.

Sir G. Pity her! trample on her.

I took her up in an old tatter'd gown
(E'en starv'd for want of food), to serve thee;
And if I understand she but repines

To do thee any duty, though ne'er so servile,

I'll pack her to her knight, where I have lodg'd him, Into the counter; and there let them howl together.

Marg. You know your own ways; but for me, I
blush

When I command her, that was once attended
With persons not inferior to myself

In birth.

Sir G. In birth! Why, art thou not my daughter, The blest child of my industry and wealth? Why, foolish girl, was't not to make thee great, That I have run, and still pursue those ways That hale down curses on me, which I mind not? Part with these humble thoughts, and apt thyself To the noble state I labour to advance thee; Or, by my hopes to see thee honourable,

I will adopt a stranger to my heir,

And throw thee from my care; do not provoke me. Marg. I will not, sir; mould me which way you please.

Enter GREEDY.

Sir G. How! interrupted?

Greedy. "Tis matter of importance.

The cook, sir, is self-will'd, and will not learn
From my experience. There's a fawn brought in, sir,
And for my life, I cannot make him roast it
With a Norfolk dumpling in the belly of it:
And, sir, we wise men know, without the dumpling
"Tis not worth three pence.

Sir G. 'Would it were whole in thy belly,

To stuff it out; cook it any way-pr'ythee, leave me. Greedy. Without order for the dumpling?

Sir G. Let it be dumpled

Which way thou wilt: or, tell him, I will scald him In his own cauldron.

Greedy. I had lost my stomach,

Had I lost my mistress's dumpling; I'll give ye

thanks for't.

[Exit.

Sir G. But to our business, Meg; you have heard

who dines here?

Marg. I have, sir.

Sir G. 'Tis an honourable man.

A lord, Meg, and commands a regiment
Of soldiers; and what's rare, is one himself;
A bold and understanding one; and to be
A lord, and a good leader in one volume,
Is granted unto few, but such as rise up,
The kingdom's glory.

Enter GREEDY.

Greedy. I'll resign my office,

If I be not better obey'd.

Sir G. 'Slight, art thou frantic?

Greedy. Frantic! 'twould make me frantic, and stark mad,

Were I not a justice of peace, and quorum too,
Which this rebellious cook cares not a straw for.
There are a dozen of woodcocks,

For which he has found out

A new device for sauce, and will not dish 'em
With toast and butter.

Sir G. Cook, rogue, obey him.

I have given the word, pray you, now, remove yourself

To a collar of brawn, and trouble me no farther.

Greedy. I will; and meditate what to eat at din

ner,

For my guts have been in the kitchen this half hour.

[Exit. Sir G. And, as I said, Meg, when this gull disturb'd

us,

This honourable lord, this colonel,

I would have thy husband.

Marg. There's too much disparity

Between his quality and mine, to hope it.

Sir G. I more than hope it, and doubt not to effect it.

Be thou no enemy to thyself; my wealth

Shall weigh his titles down, and make you equals.
Now for the means to assure him thine, observe me;
Remember he's a courtier, and a soldier,

And not to be trifled with; and therefore, when
He comes to woo you, see you do not coy it.
This mincing modesty hath spoil'd many a match
By a first refusal, in vain after hop'd for.

Marg. You'll have me, sir, preserve the distance that

Confines a virgin?

Sir G. Virgin me no virgins.

I will have you lose that name, or you lose me;
I will have you private; start not, I say, private;
Marg. Though you can dispense

With your honour, I must guard my own.
This is not the way to make me his wife.
My modest breeding yielded up so soon,
Cannot but assure him,

I, that am light to him, will not hold weight
When tempted by others: so in judgment,
When to his will I have given up my honour,
He must, and will, forsake me.

Sir G, How! forsake thee?

Do I wear a sword for fashion? or is this arm
Shrunk up, or wither'd? Does there live a man
Of that large list I have encounter'd with,
Can truly say I e'er gave inch of ground,

Not purchas'd with his blood that did oppose me?
Forsake thee when the thing is done! he dares not.
Though all his captains, echoes to his will,
Stood arm'd by his side, to justify the wrong,
Spite of his lordship, I will make him render
A bloody and a strict account; and force him,
By marrying thee, to cure thy wounded honour:

I have said it.