Rob. O me, my shame! I know that voice full well;
I'll help thy wants, although thou curse me still.
O. Fos. Bread, bread! some Christian man send back
Your charity to a number of poor prisoners.
One penny for the tender mercy! [Robert puts in money.
The hand of heaven reward you, gentle sir,
Never may you want, never feel misery;
Let blessings in unnumber'd measure grow,
And fall upon your head where'er you go.
Rob. O happy comfort! curses to the ground
First struck me: now with blessings I am crown'd.
O. Fos. Bread, bread, for the tender mercy! one penny for a loaf of bread!
Rob. I'll buy more blessings: take thou all my store,
I'll keep no coin, and see my father poor. [Puts in more money.
O. Fos. Good angels guard you, sir; my prayers shall be
That heaven may bless you for this charity!
Rob. If he knew me, sure he would not say so;
Yet I have comfort, if by any means
I get a blessing from my father's hands.
How cheap are good prayers! a poor penny buys
That by which man up in a minute flies,
And mounts to heaven.
Enter Stephen.
O me! mine uncle sees me.
Steph. Now, sir, what make you here
So near the prison?