om, who is come?

_Fath_. I know not.

_Helen_. What! Didst thou not hear his name?

_Fath_. I did.

_Helen_. What is't?

_Fath_. I noted not.

_Helen_. What hast thou ears for, then?

_Fath_. What good were it for me to mind his name?
I do but what I must do. To do that
Is labour quite enough!

_Wal_. [Without.] What, Fathom!

_Fath_. Here.

_Wal_. [Entering.] Here, sirrah! Wherefore didst not come to me?

_Fath_. You did not bid me come.

_Wal_. I called thee.

_Fath_. Yes.
And I said "Here;" and waited then to know
Your worship's will with me.

_Wal_. We go to town.
Thy mistress, thou, and all the house.

_Fath_. Well, sir?

_Wal_. Mak'st thou not ready then to go to town?
Hence, knave, despatch!

[FATHOM goes out.]

_Helen_. Go we to town?

_Wal_. We do;
'Tis now her father's will she sees the town.

_Helen_. I'm glad on't. Goes she to her father?

_Wal_. No:
At the desire of thine she for a term shares roof with thee.

_Helen_. I'm very glad on't.

_Wal_. What!
You like her, then? I thought you would. 'Tis time
She sees the town.

_Helen_. It has been time for that
These six years.

_Wal_. By thy wisdom's count. No doubt
You've told her what a precious place it is.

_Helen_. I have.

_Wal_. I even guessed as much. For that
I told thee of her; brought thee here to see her;
And prayed thee to sojourn a space with her;
That its fair space, from thy too fair report,
Might strike a novice less--so less deceive her.
I did not put thee under check.

_Helen_. 'Twas right,--
Else had I broken loose, and run the wilder!
So knows she not her father yet: that's strange.
I prithee how does mine?

_Wal_. Well--very well.
News for thee.

_Helen_. What?

_Wal_. Thy cousin is in town.

_Helen_. My cousin Modus?

_Wal_. Much do I suspect
That cousin's nearer to thy heart than blood.

_Helen_. Pshaw! Wed me to a musty library!
Love him who nothing loves but Greek and Latin!
But, Master Walter, you forget the main
Surpassing point of all! Who's come with you?

_Wal_. Ay, that's the question!

_Helen_. Is he soldier or
Civilian? lord or gentleman? He's rich,
If that's his chariot! Where is his estate?
What brings it in? Six thousand pounds a year?
Twelve thousand, may be! Is he bachelor,
Or husband? Bachelor I'm sure he is
Comes he not hither wooing, Master Walter?
Nay, prithee, answer me!

_Wal_. Who says thy sex