Sir T. You could not choose but meet him:
He is scarce yet at home.
Mean. If that you dare
But venture with me home, I'll almost promise
I'll make it plain they've put a trick upon you.
Sir T. Though every step were so much toward my grave,
I'd tread them o'er with comfort, that I might
Discover this religious villany. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Hearsay, Slicer, and Shape in his Confessor's habit.
Hear. Come, my good vulture, speak; what prey? what mirth?
Slicer. What income, my dear holiness? what sport?
Shape. Give me the chair: imagine me the knight
(When I sit down), and (when I stand) the confessor.
[As he is thus acting, Meanwell and Sir
Thomas discover themselves above.
Thus I come in peace to thy soul, good son.
'Tis you must give it, father: I am ill,
I'm very ill; fit only now for heaven.
My soul would fain be flying, were't not for
A sin or two that clogs her. But for a sin
Or two that clogs her? Take heed; don't, so near
Your last deliverance, play the sophister
With heaven. A sin or two! why, I've heard say
You're wont to screw your wretched tenants up
To th' utmost farthing, and then stand upon
The third rent-capon. Then he answers me
In the small doleful tune of a country wench
Examin'd by th' official for the mischance
Of a great belly caught at a Whitson-ale:[227]
I could not help it. Then it is your custom,
When you invite, to think your meat laid out,
You write your beef disburs'd, are wont to call
For the return of't just as for a debt;
True. That two chimneys ne'er yet smok'd at once
In all your buildings. All most true. That you
Are wont to keep an untouch'd capon, till
Corruption makes it able to walk out
And visit the barn-door again. I could
Say much more, but I had rather have you
Come so much nearer pardon, as t' accuse
Yourself by your own mouth.