Old K. Troth and I love you the better, Sir.
Witty. Yet I'll begin a better example than so, here fellows, there's between you, take Purse and all, and I would it were here heavier for your sakes, there's a pair of Angels to guide you to your lodgings, a poor Gentleman's good Will.
Pris. Gratias, maximas gratias, benignissime Domine.
Old K. This is an ill example for us, Sir, I would this bountiful Gentleman had not come this way to day.
Sir Gr. Pox, we must not shame our selves now, Sir, I'll give as much as that Gentleman, though I never be Soldier or Scholar while I live; here friends, there's a piece, that if he were divided, would make a pair of Angels for me too, in the love I bear to the Sword and the Tongues.
Old K. My largess shall be equal too, and much good do you, this bounty is a little abatement of my wit, though I feel that.
Ruin. May soldiers ever defend such charities.
Pris. And Scholars pray for their increase.
Old K. Fare you well, Sir, these fellows may pray for you, you have made the Scholars Commons exceed to day, and a word with you, Sir, you said you liv'd by your wits, if you use this bounty, you'll begger your wits, believe it.
Witty. Oh Sir, I hope to encrease 'em by it, this seed never wants his harvest, fare you well, Sir. [Exit.