University of Virginia Library

The sixth Scœne.

Enter Worthgood, Keeper, and Slip.
Keep.

And why should you thinke so Slip?

Slip.

If I finde them not, count me no wiser then an Apothecary,
that lookt for Iewes eares on an old Pillory;
When the dead wood bore none but Scriveners.

Keep.

Enquire diligenty, sirrah.

Sl.

I will sir, and arme my selfe like a country Iuror: I cannot
hold out too fast till I have given up my verdict.

Exit.
Worth.
My patience Sir hath hitherto made faire
The outside and appearance of that good
Your promise seem'd to meane me. Circumstance
Doth now instruct my feare, that this credulity
May be my danger. Trechery oft lurkes
In complements. Y'have sent so many poasts
Of undertakings, they out-ride performance.
And make me thinke your faire pretences ayme
At some intended ill; which my prevention
Must strive t'avert. Then good sir, leave me.

Keep.
Sir, though my outside's meane; I have a soule
Instrusted in all dues belong to man.
I never yet mis-us'd a common action
With a prepar'd dissembling. My intents
Are fairer then your jealousie, which lives
But in the darknesse of your ignorance.
'Tis a blind humour, let discretion guid it:
That th'end of your owne good be not perverted
By ill receiving of the hopefull meanes
My freenesse offers.

Worth.
You have heard my story;
But why it should so stirre compassion
In any stranger, counsell cannot well
Remove the doubt.

Keep.
Why Sir, I know a gentleman
Worthy in all things; but his crosser fortune
(On which mine had dependance as a servant)
Rob'd him at once of all those gifts she lent him;
Estate, life, wife; his infant-Issue left
To her blind pitty. Can I thinke you then,
Without some feeling, heare the sad relation
Of a misfortune, is so like to that,
As if the selfe same inauspicious starres
To them Slip.
Were both their meanes. The newes sirrah.

Slip.

Very bad Sir. My incredulous hostesse will not
trust: therefore pray sir make hast; for without some supply

of drinke I faint in the halfeway of my message.

Keep.

Hast found them?

Slip.

Ther's hopes or so: I heard an inckling. The house
swarmes with gallants; some of which have surely taken up
Ciceley, paltry Baggage, she playes the Lady at least, and
makes mincing faces like a countrey Bride at the upper end
of the table.

Kee.
Pray Sir let's in: we may perhaps find them heere.

Worth.
O fate, unlesse thy guiding kinder prove,
Despaire kils all my hope, and ends my love.

Exeunt.
Slip.
Oh Cakes and Ale, if you your sweets denye,
Let Slip despairing in a halter die.