Fruit. 'Tis very certain, sir; I, for a need,
Could show you the conveyance; for my hand
Is as a witness there; so is her steward's.
Sir Arg. O horrible deceit!
Fruit. Ask her herself;
If she deny it, I can justify it;
So can her steward too.
Sir Arg. You make me mad.
Fruit. I keep you from being so by a mature
Prevention of your cosening.
Sir Arg. O, what hopes
Am I fall'n from; who would believe these false
Deceitful creatures?
Fruit. Sir, I could but wonder,
That she would cheat so honest a gentleman,
That came a suitor to her for pure love.
Sir Arg. Love! Mischief of love!
Fruit. Alas, I know
It was not her estate that you sought after,
Your love was honester: and then that she
Should cosen you!
Sir Arg. She shall not cosen me:
I'll have my horse-litter made ready straight,
And leave her house.