Wid. First, that this fish should snatch it as a bait;
Then that my servant needs must buy that fish
'Mongst such infinities of fish and buyers:
What fate is mine that runs all by itself
In unhappy happiness? My conscience dreads it.
Would thou hadst not swallowed it, or thou not bought it.
Clown. Alas! blame not the poor fish, mistress: he, being a phlegmatic creature, took gold for restorative.[59] He took it fair; and he that gets gold, let him eat gold.
Wid. Nothing can hinder fate.
Doc. Seek not to cross it, then.
Wid. [To Joan.] About your business! you have not pleased me in this.
Joan. By my maidenhead! if I had thought you would have ta'en it no kindlier, you should ne'er have been vexed with the sight on't; the garbage should have been the cook's fees at this time. [Exit Joan.
Clown. Now do I see the old proverb come to pass—Give a woman luck, and cast her into the sea: there's many a man would wish his wife good luck on that condition he might throw her away so. But, mistress, there's one within would speak with you, that vexeth as fast against crosses as you do against good luck.
Wid. I know her sure, then; 'tis my gossip Foster.
Request her in; here's good company, tell her.
Clown. I'll tell her so for my own credit's sake. [Exit.
Wid. Yon shall now see an absolute contrary:
Would I had chang'd bosoms with her for a time!
'Twould make me better relish happiness.