Vir. Beshrew my heart, I know not what to think on't. 'Tis like enough: this lord was always cunning beyond measure, and it amazed me that he should grow so extreme kind to me on the sudden, to offer me all this. Besides, this fellow is so confident, and on no ends of cosenage, that I can see. Well, I would fain enjoy her—the wench is delicate; but I would have the estate too, and not be gulled. What shall I do? Now, brains, if ever you will, help your master.
Eug. It stings him.
[Aside.]
Vir. Well, so, sir, what may I call your name?
Eug. Irus,[430] my lord.
Vir. Your name, as well as your attire, speaks you poor.
Eug. I am so.
Vir. And very poor.
Eug. Very poor.
Vir. Would you not gladly take a course to get money, and a great sum of money?
Eug. Yes, gladly, if your lordship would but show me the way.