Cri. Deliver it me,
And I'll present it to him in your name.
Pan. 'T has been an heirloom[310] to our house four hundred years,
And, should I leave it now, I fear good fortune
Would fly from us, and follow it.
Cri. Then give him
The price in gold.
Pan. It comes to a hundred pounds;[311]
And how would that, well-husbanded, grow in time?
I was a fool to promise, I confess it;
I was too hot and forward in the business.
Cri. Indeed I wonder'd that your wary thriftiness,
Not wont to drop one penny in a quarter
Idly, would part with such a sum so easily.
Pan. My covetous thrift aims at no other mark
Than in fit time and place to show my bounty.
Who gives continually may want at length
Wherewith to feed his liberality.
But, for the love of my dear Flavia,
I would not spare my life, much less my treasure.
Yet if with honour I can win her cheaper,
Why should I cast away so great a sum?
Cri. True: I have a trick now hatching in my brain,
How you may handsomely preserve your credit,
And save the chain.
Pan. I would gladly do it,
But fear he understands us what we say.
Cri. What can you lose to try't? If it take,
There's so much sav'd, if otherwise, nothing lost.
Pan. What is't, good Cricca?