Cam. [At the door.] Benito, you may appear; your peace is made.
Enter Benito.
Aur. But it must be upon conditions.
Ben. Any conditions, that are reasonable; for, as I am a wit, sir, I have not eaten—
Aur. You are in the path of perdition already; that's the principal of our conditions, you are to be a wit no more.
Ben. Pray, sir, if it be possible, let me be a little wit still.
Aur. No, sir; you can make a leg, and dance; those are no talents of a wit: you are cut out for a brisk fool, and can be no other.
Ben. Pray, sir, let me think I am a wit, or my heart will break.
Cam. That you will naturally do, as you are a fool.
Aur. Then no farther meddling with adventures, or contrivances of your own; they are all belonging to the territories of wit, from whence you are banished.