]
MAM. The whole nest are fled!
LOVE. What sort of birds were they?
MAM. A kind of choughs,
Or thievish daws, sir, that have pick'd my purse
Of eight score and ten pounds within these five weeks,
Beside my first materials; and my goods,
That lie in the cellar, which I am glad they have left,
I may have home yet.
LOVE. Think you so, sir?
MAM. Ay.
LOVE. By order of law, sir, but not otherwise.
MAM. Not mine own stuff!
LOVE. Sir, I can take no knowledge
That they are yours, but by public means.
If you can bring certificate that you were gull'd of them,
Or any formal writ out of a court,
That you did cozen your self, I will not hold them.
MAM. I'll rather lose them.
LOVE. That you shall not, sir,
By me, in troth: upon these terms, they are yours.
What! should they have been, sir, turn'd into gold, all?
MAM. No,
I cannot tell -- It may be they should. -- What then?
LOVE. What a great loss in hope have you sustain'd!
MAM. Not I, the commonwealth has.
FACE. Ay, he would have built
The city new; and made a ditch about it
Of silver, should have run with cream from Hogsden;
That every Sunday, in Moorfields, the younkers,
And tits and tom-boys should have fed on, gratis.
MAM. I will go mount a turnip-cart, and preach
The end of the world, within these two months. Surly,
What! in a dream?
SUR. Must I needs cheat myself,
With that same foolish vice of honesty!
Come, let us go and hearken out the rogues:
That Face I'll mark for mine, if e'er I meet him.
Pages:
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162