Mist. Mer. Well, Charles; you promised to provide for Jasper, and I have laid up for Michael. I pray you, pay Jasper his portion: he’s come home, and he shall not consume Michael’s stock; he says his master turned him away, but, I promise you truly, I think he ran away.

[Wife. No, indeed, Mistress Merrythought; though he be a notable gallows, yet I’ll assure you his master did turn him away, even in this place; ’twas, i’faith, within this half-hour, about his daughter; my husband was by.

Cit. Hang him, rogue! he served him well enough: love his master’s daughter! By my troth, cony, if there were a thousand boys, thou wouldst spoil them all with taking their parts; let his mother alone with him.

Wife. Ay, George; but yet truth is truth.]

Mer. Where is Jasper? he’s welcome, however. Call him in; he shall have his portion. Is he merry?

Mist. Mer. Ah, foul chive him, he is too merry!—Jasper!
Michael!

Re-enter Jasper and Michael.

Mer. Welcome, Jasper! though thou runnest away, welcome! God bless thee! ’Tis thy mother’s mind thou shouldst receive thy portion; thou hast been abroad, and I hope hast learned experience enough to govern it; thou art of sufficient years; hold thy hand—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, there is ten shillings for thee. [Gives money.] Thrust thyself into the world with that, and take some settled course: if fortune cross thee, thou hast a retiring place; come home to me; I have twenty shillings left. Be a good husband; that is, wear ordinary clothes, eat the best meat, and drink the best drink; be merry, and give to the poor, and, believe me, thou hast no end of thy goods.

Jasp. Long may you live free from all thought of ill,
And long have cause to be thus merry still!
But, father—

Mer. No more words, Jasper; get thee gone.
Thou hast my blessing; thy father’s spirit upon thee!
Farewell, Jasper!

[Sings.

So, now begone; no words.

[Exit Jasper.

Mist. Mer. So, Michael, now get thee gone too.

Mich. Yes, forsooth, mother; but I’ll have my father’s blessing first.

Mist. Mer. No, Michael; ’tis no matter for his blessing; thou hast my blessing; begone. I’ll fetch my money and jewels, and follow thee; I’ll stay no longer with him, I warrant thee. [Exit Michael.]—Truly, Charles, I’ll be gone too.

Mer. What! you will not?

Mist. Mer. Yes, indeed will I.

Mer. [Sings.]