Act 2 — SCENE VI.

Sweet sir, I am most passionately yours, To serve you all the ways I can: Priscilla. Very well penn'd of a young chambermaid. I do conceive your meaning, sweet Priscilla. You see I have the happy fortune on't; A night for nothing, and entreated, too. Slicer. Thou dost not know how I do love thee. Let me Make use of this; thou'lt have the like occasion. Hear. Thou art the fawning'st fellow, Slicer! Meanwell, Hark here. Mean. For God's sake, be contented, sirs; I'm flesh and blood as well as you. Lieutenant, Think on your suburb beauties. Sweet intelligencer, I will by no means bar you of your lady: Your sin, I assure you, will be honourable. [Exit Meanwell. Slicer. Pox o' your liquorish lips! If that she don't After this sealing forty weeks, deliver Something unto thee as thy act and deed, Say I can't prophesy. Hear. If I don't serve him A trick he thinks not of—— Slicer. Didst mark how he Did apply himself to the knight all dinner! I am afraid he plays the cunning factor, And in another's name wooes for himself. Hear. Let it go on; let it work something farther: 'Tis almost ripe enough to crush. He hath not Crept high enough as yet to be sensible Of any fall. Slicer. Now is the time, or never. This night, you know, he and his doxy meet; Let me alone to give them their good-morrow. If that we carry things but one week longer Without discovery, farewell London then: The world's our own. He ne'er deserves to thrive That doth not venture for it: wealth's then sweet, When bought with hazard. Fate this law hath set; The fool inherits, but the wise must get.