SCENE III.--_Barnet. A Street_.

_Enter_ Delavil _and a_ Gentleman.

Gentleman. Where shall we dine to-day?

Delavil. At the ordinary. I see, sir, you are but a stranger here. This Barnet is a place of great resort, And commonly, upon the market days, Here all the country gentlemen appoint A friendly meeting; some about affairs Of consequence and profit--bargain, sale, And to confer with chapmen; some for pleasure, To match their horses, wager on their dogs, Or try their hawks; some to no other end But only meet good company, discourse, Dine, drink, and spend their money.

Gentleman. That’s the market We have to make this day.

Delavil. ’Tis a commodity That will be easily vented.--What, my worthy friend! [_Enter_ Old Geraldine _and_ Young Geraldine.] You are happily encountered. Oh, you’re grown strange To one that much respects you. Troth, the house Hath all this time seemed naked without you; The good old man doth never sit to meat, But next his giving thanks he speaks of you; There’s scarce a bit that he at table tastes, That can digest without a Geraldine, You are in his mouth so frequent. He and she Both wondering what distaste from one, or either, So suddenly should alienate a guest To them so dearly welcome.

Old Geraldine. Master Delavil, Thus much let me for him apologise: Divers designs have thronged upon us late My weakness was not able to support Without his help; he hath been much abroad, At London, or elsewhere; besides, ’tis term, And lawyers must be followed; seldom at home, And scarcely then at leisure.

Delavil. I am satisfied, And I would they were so too; but I hope, sir, In this restraint you have not used my name.

Old Geraldine. Not as I live.

Delavil. You’re noble.--Who had thought To have met with such good company? You are, it seems, But new alighted. Father and son, ere part, I vow we’ll drink a cup of sack together; Physicians say it doth prepare the appetite And stomach against dinner.

Old Geraldine. We old men Are apt to take these courtesies.

Delavil. What say you, friend?

Young Geraldine. I’ll but inquire for one at the next inn, And instantly return.

Delavil. It is enough.

[_Exeunt_.