[Goes out.]
Wild. She is a riddle, solve her he who can!
[Goes out.]
ACT V.
SCENE I.—A Room in Sir William Fondlove’s.
[Sir William seated with two Lawyers.]
Sir Wil. How many words you take to tell few things
Again, again say over what, said once,
Methinks were told enough!
First Lawyer. It is the law,
Which labours at precision.
Sir Wil. Yes; and thrives
Upon uncertainty—and makes it, too,
With all its pains to shun it. I could bind
Myself, methinks, with but the twentieth part
Of all this cordage, sirs.—But every man,
As they say, to his own business. You think
The settlement is handsome?
First Lawyer. Very, sir.