THOM. O butler! thou deserv'st to be chronicled for this.
BUT. Do not belie me, if I had any right, I deserve to be hanged for't.
But come, down with your dust, our morning's purchase.[402]
THOM. Here 'tis; thou hast played well; thou deserv'st two shares in it.
BUT. Three hundred pound! a pretty breakfast: many a man works hard all his days, and never sees half the money. But come, though it be badly got, it shall be better bestowed. But do ye hear, gallants? I have not taught you this trade to get your livings by. Use it not; for if you do, though I 'scaped by the nut-tree, be sure you'll speed by the rope. But for your pains at this time, there's a hundred pounds for you; how you shall bestow it, I'll give you instructions. But do you hear? look ye, go not to your gills, your punks, and your cock-tricks with it. If I hear you do, as I am an honest thief, though I helped you now out of the briars, I'll be a means yet to help you to the gallows. How the rest shall be employed, I have determined, and by the way I'll make you acquainted with it. To steal is bad, but taken, where is store; The fault's the less, being done to help the poor.
[Exeunt.
Enter WENTLOE, BARTLEY, and ILFORD with a letter in his hand.
ILF. Sure, I have said my prayers, and lived virtuously o' late, that this good fortune's befallen me. Look, gallants, I am sent for to come down to my father's burial.
WEN. But dost mean to go?
ILF. Troth, no; I'll go down to take possession of his land: let the country bury him, and they will. I'll stay here a while, to save charge at his funeral.
BAR. And how dost feel thyself, Frank, now thy father is dead?