Had. What exclamation's that?
Light. What you will grieve at, coz;
Your worshipful friend, Master Hog, is robb'd.
Had. Robb'd! by whom, or how?
Light. O, there's the grief: he knows not whom to suspect.
Had. The fear of hell o'ertake them, whosoe'er they be. But where's your daughter? I hope she is safe.
Enter Rebecca.
Hog. Thank heaven, I see she's now so. Where hast thou been, my girl?
Reb. Alas! sir, carried by amazement I know not where; pursued by the robbers, forced to fly amazed, affrighted, through the city streets, to seek redress; but that lay fast asleep in all men's houses, nor would lend an ear to the distressed.
Had. O heavy accident! but see, you grieve too much,
Being your daughter's found, for th' other loss,
Since 'tis the will of heaven to give and take,
Value it as nothing: you have yet sufficient
To live in bless'd content, had you no more
But my small mortgage for your daughter here,
Whom I have ever lov'd in dear'st affection.
If so you please so much to favour me,
I will accept her, spite of poverty,
And make her jointure of some store of land,
Which, by the loss of a good aged friend,
Late fell to me: what, is't a match or no?
Hog. It is.