Brass. Why then, ceremony aside, [Putting on his hat.] You and I must have a little talk, Mr. Amlet.
Dick. Ah, Brass, what art thou going to do? Wou't ruin me?
Brass. Look you, Dick, few words; you are in a smooth way of making your fortune. I hope all will roll on. But how do you intend matters shall pass 'twixt you and me in this business?
Dick. Death and Furies! What a time dost take to talk on't?
Brass. Good words, or I betray you; they have already heard of one Mr. Amlet in the house.
Dick. Here's a son of a whore!
[Aside.
Brass. In short, look smooth, and be a good prince: I am your valet, 'tis true: your footman sometimes, which I'm enrag'd at; but you have always had the ascendant, I confess: when we were school-fellows, you made me carry your books, make your exercise, own your rogueries, and sometimes take a whipping for you. When we were fellow-prentices, tho' I was your senior, you made me open the shop, clean my master's shoes, cut last at dinner, and eat all the crust. In our sins too, I must own you still kept me under; you soar'd up to adultery with our mistress, while I was at humble fornication with the maid. Nay, in our punishments you still made good your post: for when once upon a time I was sentenced but to be whipp'd, I cannot deny but you were condemn'd to be hang'd. So that in all times, I must confess, your inclinations have been greater and nobler than mine; however, I cannot consent that you shou'd at once fix fortune for life, and I dwell in my humilities for the rest of my days.
Dick. Hark thee, Brass, if I do not most nobly by thee, I'm a dog.