Anc. Pray, take it not so heinous, we'll go to him: I'll buy it again of him, he won't be too cruel.
Blood. A dog, a very dog; there's more mercy in a pair of unbribed bailiffs. To shun all such solicitings, he's rid to York. A very cut-throat rogue! But I'll send to him.
Anc. An honest old man, how it moves him! [Aside.] This was my negligence. Good Sim, convey him into some warmer room; and I pray, however Fortune—she that gives ever with the dexterity she takes—shall please to fashion out my sufferings, yet for his sake, my deceased father, the long friend of your heart, in your health keep me happy.
Blood. O right honest young man! Sim.
Sim. Sir.
Blood. Have I done't well?
Sim. The devil himself could not have done't better.
Blood. I tell thee an old saw, sirrah—
He that dissembles in wealth shall not want;
They say doomsday's coming, but think you not on't.
This will make the pot seethe, Sim.
Anc.[35] Good sir, talk no more, my mouth runs over. [Exeunt Bloodhound and Sim.] Sleep, wake, worthy beggar, worthy indeed to be one, and am one worthily. How fine it is to wanton without affliction! I must look out for fortunes over again: no, I have money here, and 'tis the curse of merit not to work when she has money. There was a handsome widow, whose wild-mad-jealous husband died at sea; let me see, I am near Blackfriars, I'll have one start at her, or else——