Mild. This is the curse
Belonges to all us bawdes: gentle and noble,
Even th'ouldest fornicator, will in private
Make happy use of us with hugges and brybes;
But let them take us at the publick bench,
Gainst consciens they will spitt at us and doome us
Unto the post and cart. Oh the coruptnes
Of these dissemblinge letchers!
Sarlab. 'Tis well yet You have reserved one virgin left for sale; Of her make your best proffitt.
Mild.[151] A small stocke To rayse a second fortune; yet com, frend, Wee will go seeke her out.
Enter Gripus the Fisherman.
Fisher. No budgett to bee com by; my ould mayster,
Hee stands on consciens to deliver it
To the trew owner, but I thinke in consciens
To cheate mee and to keepe it to him selfe;
Which hee shall never doo, to prevent which
I'l openly proclayme it.
[Oh yes!
If any userer or base exacter,
Any noble marchant or marchant's factor,
Bee't marchant venterer or marchant Taylor
Bee hee Mr. Pilot, botswyne or saylor—
Enter Godfrey to them.
Godf. Hist, Gripus, hyst!
Fish. Peace, fellowe Godfrey. I'l now play the blabber.—
If eather passinger owner or swabber[152]
That in the sea hathe lost a leather budgett
And to the Dolphins, whales or sharkes, doth grudge itt—
Godf. Wilt thou betraye all? I'I go tell my mayster.
Fish. Yes, Godfrey, goe and tell him all and spare not, I am growne desperate; if thou dost I care not.