Fed with a wound upon me, stampt at midnight. Hah, what are you?
_Pris._ Now you may tell your self, Lady. [_Pulls off's beard._
_Lady._ Oh Mr. _Priscian_, what's the project, For you n'er come without one.
_Pris._ First, your Husband, Sir _Ruinous Gentry_ greets you with best wishes, And here has sent you your full share by me In five Cheats and two Robberies.
_Lady._ A goodly share, 'Twill put a Lady scarce in Philip and Cheyney, With three small Bugle Laces, like a Chambermaid, Here's precious lifting.
_Pris._ 'Las you must consider, Lady, 'Tis but young Term, Attornies ha small doings yet, Then Highway Lawyers, they must needs ha little, We'ave had no great good luck to speak troth, Beauty, Since your stout Ladyship parted from's at _Highgate_, But there's a fair hope now for a present hunder'd, Here's mans Apparel, your Horse stands at door.
_Lady._ And what's the virtuous plot now?
_Prisc._ Marry Lady, You, like a brave young Gallant must be robb'd.
_Lady._ Well, well, go on, let's hear Sir.
_Pris._ Here's a seal'd bag of a Hunder'd, which indeed Are Counters all, only some sixteen Groats Of white money i'th' mouth on't.
_Pris._ Monsieur _Laroon_'s the _Frenchmans_.
_Lady._ That agen, You know so well it is not for my stride, How oft have I complain'd on't?
_Pris._ You may have [_Jockey's_] then, the little _Scotch_ one, You must dispatch. [_Exit_ Pris.
_Lady._ I'll soon be ready, Sir, Before you ha shifted Saddles, many Women Have their wealth flow to 'em, I was made I see To help my fortune, not my fortune me. [_Exit._
_Cun._ My ways are Goblin-led, and the night-Elf Still draws me from my home, yet I follow, Sure, 'tis not altogether fabulous, Such Haggs do get dominion of our tongues So soon as we speak, the Inchantment binds; I have dissembled such a trouble on me, As my best wits can hardly clear agen; Piping through this old reed, the Guardianess, With purpose that my harmony shall reach And please the Ladies ear, she stops below, And ecchoes back my Love unto my Lips, Perswaded by most violent arguments Of self-love in her self; I am so self-fool, To doat upon her hunder'd wrinkl'd face; I could beggar her to accept the gifts She would throw upon me; 'twere charity, But for pities sake I will be a niggard And undo her, refusing to take from her; I'm haunted agen, if it take not now I'll break the Spell.