Plot. Shall I not learn
Arithmetic too, sir, and shorthand?
Ware. 'Tis well-remembered; yes, and navigation.
Enter Cypher.
Cyph. Sir, Master Seathrift says you will lose the tide;
The boat stays for you.
Ware. Well, nephew, at my return,
As I hear of your carriage, you do know
What my intentions are; and, for a token
How much I trust your reformation,
Take this key of my counting-house, and spend
Discreetly in my absence. Farewell. Nay,
No tears; I'll be here sooner than you think on't.
Cypher, you know what you have to do.
Cyph. I warrant you, sir. [Exit Warehouse.
Plot. Tears! yes, my melting eyes shall run; but it
Shall be such tears as shall increase the tide
To carry you from hence.
Cyph. Come, Master Plotwell, shall I
Read to you this morning?
Plot. Read! what? how the price
Of sugar goes; how many pints of olives
Go to a jar; how long wine works at sea;
What difference is in gain between fresh herrings
And herrings red?
Cyph. This is fine: ha' you
Forgot your uncle's charge?