Wit. You shall have but threescore pound; spite a your teeth,
I'll see you hang'd first.
O. K. And what's seven pound more man?
That all this coyle's about? stay, I say, he shall ha't.
Wit. It is your own, you may do what you please with it;
Pardon my zeal, I would ha' sav'd you money;
Give him all his own asking?
O. K. What's that to you, Sir?
Be sparing of your own, teach me to pinch
In such a case as this? go, go, live by your wits, go.
Wit. I practise all I can.
O. K. Follow you me, Sir,
And, Master Constable, come from the knave,
And be a witness of a full recompence.
Wit. Pray stop the Constables mouth, what ere you do Sir.
O. K. Yet agen? as if I meant not to do that my self,
Without your counsel? As for you, precious kinsman,
Your first years fruits in Wales shall go to rack for this,
You lie not in my house, I'll pack you out,
And pay for your lodging rather.
[Exeunt Knight, Ruin, and Lady.
Witty. Oh fie Cozen,
These are ill courses, you a Scholar too?