Frank. That you’ll please
By letters to assure my father that
I am not married.
Sir Arth. How!
Frank. Some one or other
Hath certainly informed him that I purposed
To marry Winnifred; on which he threatened
To disinherit me:—to prevent it,
Lowly I crave your letters, which he seeing
Will credit; and I hope, ere I return,
On such conditions as I’ll frame, his lands
Shall be assured.
Sir Arth. But what is there to quit[412]
My knowledge of the marriage?
Frank. Why, you were not
A witness to it.
Sir Arth. I conceive; and then—
His land confirmed, thou wilt acquaint him throughly
With all that’s past.
Frank. I mean no less.
Sir Arth. Provided
I never was made privy to’t.
Frank. Alas, sir,
Am I a talker?
Sir Arth. Draw thyself the letter,
I’ll put my hand to’t. I commend thy policy;
Thou’rt witty, witty, Frank; nay, nay, ’tis fit:
Dispatch it.