TEN. By Gog's bores, these old stumps are stark tired.
Chave here roundabout for life conquired,
Where any posting nags were to be hired,
And can get none, would they were all vired![385]
Cham come too late for Money, I hold a penny,
Suitors to Fortune there are so many;
And all for Money, chill gage a round sum:
Money is gone, before Tenacity come.
Then am I dress'd even to my utter shame:
A fool return'd, like as a fool I came.
Cham sure chave come vorty miles and twenty,
With all these bags you see and wallets empty:
But when chave sued to Vortune vine and dainty,
Ich hope to vill them up with money plenty:
But here is one, of whom ich will conquire,
Whilk way che might attain to my desire.
God speed, my zon.
VAN. What, father Crust, whither post you so fast?
TEN. Nay, bur lady, zon, ich can make no haste,
Vor che may say to thee, cham tired clean.
VAN. More shame for you, to keep your ass so lean!
But whither go you now?
TEN. To a goodly lady, whom they call her Vortune.
VAN. And wherefore?
TEN. For money, zon, but ich vear che come too late.
VAN. Indeed, it seemeth by thy beggar's state,
Thou hast need of money; but let me hear,
How or by whom think'st thou to get this gear?
TEN. Chill speak her vair, chill make low cursy.
VAN. That's somewhat; but how wilt thou come at her?