Cla. Or any thing, but if you play the knave now,
The cozening knave, besides the loss of this,
In which thou hast parted with a paradise,
I ne'er will give thee meat more, not a morsel,
No smell of meat by my means shall come near thee,
Nor name of any thing that's nourishing,
But to thy old part Tantalus again,
Thou shalt return, and there snap at a shadow.
Pen. Upon this point, had I intended Treason,
Or any thing might call my life in question,
Follow'd with all the tortures time could think on,
Give me but time to eat this lovely Lobster,
This Alderman o'th' Sea, and give me Wine to him,
I would reveal all, and if that all were too little,
More than I knew; Bartello holds in with her,
The Captain of the Cittadel, but you need not fear him,
His tongue's the stiffest weapon that he carries.
He is old, and out of use; there are some other,
Men, young enough, handsome, and bold enough,
Could they come but to make their game once, but they want Sir,
They want the unde quare, they are laid by then.
Enter Bartello.
You only are the man shall knock the nail in—
Bar. How now Penurio?
Pen. Your worship's fairly met, Sir.
You shall hear further from me, steal aside, Sir.
Cla. Remember your Master for those Chains.
Pen. They are ready, Sir.
Bart. What young thing's this? by his habit he's a Merchant;
I fear he trades my way too, you dryed dog-fish,
What bait was that?
Pen. Who Sir, the thing went hence now?
A notable young whelp.