Care. What means all this?
Jolly. What! why, 'tis truth, and it means to shame the devil. By this good day, he repeats the same words with which I gathered these pearls.
Wild. Why, then, we have two to laugh at.
Care. And all friends hereafter. Let's fool all together.
Capt. Gentlemen with the fine wits, and my very good friends, do you, or you, or he, think I'll keep you company to make you laugh, but that I draw my honey from you too?
Care. Come, come, the captain's in the right.
Capt. Yes, yes, the captain knows it, and dares tell you your wit, your fortune, and his face, are but my ploughs; and I would have my fine monsieur know, who, in spite of my counsel, will be finer than his mistress, and appears before her so curiously built, she dares not play with him for fear of spoiling him: and to let him know the truth I speak, to his fair hands I present this letter, but withal give him to understand the contents belong to me.
[He reads the letter.
Wild. The pearl are sent to me.
Capt. I deny that, unless you prove you sent me: for the letter begins, "Sir, this noble gentleman, the bearer, whom you are pleased to make the messenger of your love," and so forth. And now you should do well to inquire for that noble gentleman, and take an account of him how he has laid out your love; and it may be, he'll return you pearl for it. And now, gentlemen, I dare propose a peace, at least a cessation of wit (but what is defensive) till such time as the plot which is now in my head be effected, in which you have all your shares.