Enter Bloodhound, Tim, and Sim.
Blood. There, sirrah, there's his bond: run into the Strand, 'tis six weeks since the tallow-chandler fetched my hundred marks I lent him to set him up, and to buy grease; this is his day, I'll have his bones for't else, so pray tell him.
Tim. But are a chandler's bones worth so much, father?
Blood. Out, coxcomb!
Sim. Worth so much! I know my master will make dice of them; then 'tis but letting Master Alexander carry them next Christmas to the Temple,[29] he'll make a hundred marks a night of them.
Tim. Mass, that's true.
Blood. And run to Master Ear-lack's the informer, in Thieving Lane, and ask him what he has done in my business. He gets abundance; and if he carry my cause with one false oath, he shall have Moll; he will take her with a little. Are you gone, sir?
Tim. No, forsooth.
Blood. As you come by Temple Bar, make a step to th' Devil.