me up, sir; you come into a cleanly
house here.

MAT. God save you, sir, God save you.

[ENTER MATHEO.]

BOB. Signior Matheo, is't you, sir? please you sit down.

MAT. I thank you, good Signior, you may see I am somewhat
audacious.

BOB. Not so, Signior, I was requested to supper yesternight by a
sort of gallants, where you were wished for, and drunk to, I assure
you.

MAT. Vouchsafe me by whom, good Signior.

BOB. Marry, by Signior Prospero, and others; why, hostess, a stool
here for this gentleman.

MAT. No haste, sir, it is very well.

BOB. Body of me, it was so late ere we parted last night, I can
scarce open mine eyes yet; I was but new risen as you came; how
passes the day abroad, sir? you can tell.

MAT. Faith, some half hour to seven: now trust me, you have an
exceeding fine lodging here, very neat, and private.

BOB. Ay, sir, sit down. I pray you, Signior Matheo, in any case
possess no gentlemen of your acquaintance with notice of my
lodging.

MAT. Who? I, sir? no.

BOB. Not that I need to care who know it, but in regard I would
not be so popular and general as some be.

MAT. True, Signior, I conceive you.

BOB. For do you see, sir, by the heart of myself, (except it be
to some peculiar and choice spirits, to whom I am extraordinarily
engaged, as yourself, or so,) I could not extend thus far.

MAT. O Lord, sir! I resolve so.

BOB. What new book have you there? What? "Go by Hieronymo."

MAT. Ay, did you ever see it acted? is't not well penned?

BOB. Well penned: I would fain see all the Poets of our time pen
such another play as that was; they'll prate and swagger, and keep
a stir of art and devices, when (by God's so) they are the most
shallow, pitiful fellows that live upon the face of the earth
again.

MAT. Indeed, here are a number of fine speeches in this book:
"Oh eyes, no eyes, but fountains fraught with tears;" there's a
conceit: Fountains fraught with tears. "Oh life, no life, but
lively form of death;" is't not excellent? "Oh world, no world,
but mass of public wrongs;" O God's me: "confused and filled with
murder and misdeeds." Is't not simply the best that ever you
heard?
Ha, how do you like it?

BOB. 'Tis good.

MAT. "To thee, the purest object to my sense,
The most refined essence heaven covers,