Sir Arg. 'Tis true, and 'tis well worth it.
Lady C. But what hopes have you to gain it shortly?
Sir Arg. He, you know,
By Scudmore's death has forfeited his life
Unto the law; and the estate's entail'd
On me as the next heir.
Lady C. But he is fled.
Sir Arg. No, no; I know he lurks not far from hence,
And I shall shortly learn the very place
By some intelligence. I have provided
My secret scouts; and then you know th' assizes
Are now at hand: the time will be too short
To get a pardon, specially as I
Have laid some friends to stall it underhand.
Euph. Here's a new mischief, Barnet! [Aside.
Bar. And a strange one. [Aside.
Lady C. And then you must not spare a little money
To hasten execution at an hour
Unusual. Those things may well be done:
Else what were money good for?
Sir Arg. You say right.
If 'twere once come to that, I fear it not.
Lady C. Well, sir, I see all's right and straight between us.
You understand how welcome you are hither;
I need not tell it o'er again.