Jack. An't please your honour I have been at my lord's, and his
lordship thanks you for the favour you have offered of reading your
play to him; but he has such a prodigious deal of business, he begs to
be excused. I have been with Mr Keyber too—he made me no answer at
all. Mr Bookweight will be here immediately.
Luck. Jack.
Jack. Sir.
Luck. Fetch my other hat hither;—carry it to the pawnbroker's.
Jack. To your honour's own pawnbroker!
Luck. Ay—and in thy way home call at the cook's shop. So, one
way or other, I find my head must always provide for my belly.