Act 1 — SCENE III.

Ware. Good morrow, nephew. How now? sad? how comes This melancholy? Plot. Can I choose but wear Clouds in my face, when I must venture, sir, Your reverend age to a long-doubtful voyage, And not partake your dangers? Ware. Fie! these fears, Though they become you, nephew, are ominous. When heard you from your father? Plot. Never since He made the escape, sir. Ware. I hear he is in Ireland: Is't true he took your sister with him? Plot. So Her mistress thinks, sir: one day she left th' Exchange, And has not since been heard of. Ware. And, nephew, How like you your new course; which place prefer you— The Temple or Exchange? Where are, think you, The wealthier mines—in the Indies or Westminster Hall? Plot. Sir, my desires take measure And form from yours. Ware. Nay, tell me your mind plainly I' th' city-tongue. I'd have you speak like Cypher: I do not like quaint figures, they do smell Too much o' th' inns-of-court. Plot. Sir, my obedience Is ready for all impressions which—— Ware. Again! Plot. Sir, I prefer your kind of life, a merchant. Ware. 'Tis spoken like my nephew; now I like you, Nor shall I e'er repent the benefits I have bestow'd; but will forget all errors [Exit Cypher. As mere seducements, and will not only be An uncle, but a father to you; but then You must be constant, nephew. Plot. Else I were blind To my good fortune, sir. Ware. Think, man, how it may In time make thee o' th' city-senate, and raise thee To the sword and cap of maintenance. Plot. Yes, and make me Sentence light bread and pounds of butter on horseback. [Aside. Ware. Have gates and conduits dated from thy year; Ride to the 'spital on thy free beast. Plot. Yes, Free of your company. [Aside. Ware. Have the people vail As low to his trappings, as if he thrice had fin'd For that good time's employment. Plot. Or as if He had his rider's wisdom. [Aside. Ware. Then the works And good deeds of the city to go before thee, Besides a troop of varlets.[185] Plot. Yes, and I To sleep the sermon in my chain and scarlet. [Aside. Ware. How say you? Let's hear that! Plot. I say, sir, I To sit at sermon in my chain and scarlet. Ware. 'Tis right; and be remembered at the Cross.[186] Plot. And then at sessions, sir, and all times else, Master Recorder to save me the trouble, And understand things for me. [Aside. Ware. All this is possible, And in the stars and winds: therefore, dear nephew, You shall pursue this course; and, to enable you, In this half-year that I shall be away, Cypher shall teach you French, Italian, Spanish, And other tongues of traffic. Plot. Shall I not learn Arithmetic too, sir, and shorthand? Ware. 'Tis well-remembered; yes, and navigation.

Cyph. Sir, Master Seathrift says you will lose the tide; The boat stays for you. Ware. Well, nephew, at my return, As I hear of your carriage, you do know What my intentions are; and, for a token How much I trust your reformation, Take this key of my counting-house, and spend Discreetly in my absence. Farewell. Nay, No tears; I'll be here sooner than you think on't. Cypher, you know what you have to do. Cyph. I warrant you, sir. [Exit Warehouse. Plot. Tears! yes, my melting eyes shall run; but it Shall be such tears as shall increase the tide To carry you from hence. Cyph. Come, Master Plotwell, shall I Read to you this morning? Plot. Read! what? how the price Of sugar goes; how many pints of olives Go to a jar; how long wine works at sea; What difference is in gain between fresh herrings And herrings red? Cyph. This is fine: ha' you Forgot your uncle's charge? Plot. Prythee, what was't? Cyph. To learn the tongues and mathematics. Plot. Troth, If I have tongue enough to say my prayers I' th' phrase o' th' kingdom, I care not: otherwise, I'm for no tongues but dried ones, such as will Give a fine relish to my backrag;[187] and for mathematics, I hate to travel by the map; methinks 'Tis riding post. Cyph. I knew 'twould come to this. Here be his comrades. [Aside. Plot. What, my Fleet Street friends? [Exit Cypher.