]
Will. His name,
So please your lordship, Markham.
Tin. Do you know
The thing?
Roch. Right well! I'faith a hearty fellow,
Son to a worthy tradesman, who would do
Great things with little means; so entered him
In the Temple. A good fellow, on my life.
Nought smacking of his stock!
Tin. You've said enough!
His lordship's not at home.
[WILLIAMS goes out.]
We do not go
By hearts, but orders! Had he family -
Blood--though it only were a drop--his heart
Would pass for something; lacking such desert,
Were it ten times the heart it is, 'tis nought!
[Enter WILLIAMS.]
Will. One Master Jones hath asked to see you lordship.
Tin. And what was your reply to Master Jones?
Will. I knew not if his lordship was at home.
Tin. You'll do. Who's Master Jones?
Roch. A curate's son.
Tin. A curate's! Better be a yeoman's son!
Was it the rector's son, he might be known,
Because the rector is a rising man,
And may become a bishop. He goes light,
The curate ever hath a loaded back!
He may be called the yeoman of the church,
That sweating does his work, and drudges on,
While lives the hopeful rector at his ease.
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