Rag. Who, the Devil, Sir?
Gay. Ay, the Devil, Sir, if you mean to thrive. [Exit Rag. Who can this be—but see he comes to inform me—withdraw.
Enter Bredwel drest like a Devil.
Bred. I come to bring you this— [Gives him a Letter.
Gayman reads.
Receive what Love and Fortune present you with, be grateful
and be silent, or ‘twill vanish like a dream, and leave you
more wretched that it found You.
Adieu.
—Hah—
[Gives him a bag of Money.
Bred. Nay, view it, Sir, ‘tis all substantial Gold.
Gay. Now dare not I ask one civil question for fear it vanish all— [Aside. But I may ask, how ‘tis I ought to pay for this great Bounty.
Bred. Sir, all the Pay is Secrecy—