'Twas otherwise with her in the country. There, my mistress
used to rise what time she now lies down.
Thos. Why, yes; she's changed since she came hither.
Fath. Changed, do you say, Master Thomas? Changed, forsooth! I
know not the thing in which she is not changed, saving that she is
still a woman. I tell thee there is no keeping pace with her moods.
In the country she had none of them. When I brought what she asked
for, it was "Thank you, Fathom," and no more to do; but now, nothing
contents her. Hark ye! were you a gentleman, Master Thomas,--for
then you know you would be a different kind of man,--how many times
would you have your coat altered?
Thos. Why, Master Fathom, as many times as it would take to make it
fit me.
Fath. Good! But, supposing it fitted thee at the first?
Thos. Then would I have it altered not at all.
Fath. Good! Thou wouldst be a reasonable gentleman. Thou wouldst
have a conscience. Now hark to a tale about my lady's last gown.
How many times, think you, took I it back to the sempstress?
Thos.
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