Andrew, Meanwell.
And. Upon my conscience, now he cheated me;
I could have never lost it else so strangely.
Mean. What is a paltry cloak to a man of worth?
It barr'd men only o' th' sight of your body;
Your handsomeness will now appear the better.
And. He was as like our Master Shape as could be;
But that he had a patch upon his cheek
And a black beard, I should have sworn 'twere he:
It was somebody in his clothes, I'm sure.
Mean. Some cunning cheater, upon my life, won
His cloak and suit too!
And. There it is for certain,
Pyes take him! doth he play for cloaks still? Surely
He hath a fly only to win good clothes.
Enter Shape.
Shape. The pox and plague take all ill-fortune! this
The second time that he hath cheated me;
My very best suit that I had!
And. How now!
What, lost your cloak and suit? A jest, I vow;
I vow, a pretty jest. 'Odsnigs, I guess'd so;
I saw him have it on: it made him look as like you,
As like you—'tis a rogue, a mere decoy. [Aside.