Fran. Servant.
Beard. Mistress.
Fran. We are undone.
Beard. Now Jove forfend![371]
Fran. This fellow has no land; and which is worse,
He has no credit.
Beard. How! are we outstripp'd?
Blown up by wit of man? Let us be gone
Home again, home again: our market now is done.
Fran. That were too great a scandal.
Throat. Most true!
Better to wed another, than to return
With scandal and defame: wed me a man,
Whose wealth may reconcile your mother's love.
And make the action lawful.
Beard. But where's the man?
I like your counsel, could you show the man.
Throat. Myself am he, might I but dare aspire
Unto so high a fortune.