HEATH. O Bristle, welcome! I perceive by thy merry note, that there's music in thy pocket. What, dost jingle? BRIS. And I perceive by thy heavy countenance thy purse is light. Dost want coin? HEATH. Dost thou doubt that? Dost thou not see I'm sober? Do I swear or kick for asking, if I want money? BRIS. These are infallible signs indeed that thou dost want it. HEATH. I have been up this two hours, and have not visited one alehouse yet. BRIS. Nay, I am fully satisfied; but canst thou want money whilst thou hast fingers to tell it? HEATH. Why, wouldst have 'um made of loadstones, to draw all that comes nigh 'em? BRIS. Canst thou be poor, and have a tongue Nay, then, 'tis pity but thou shouldst be sent to the Mint thyself, and be stamped into farthings, to be bestowed on beggars! I'd dig to the Antipodes with my nails, but I'd find a mine; and, like the cripple, run up Paul's steeple, but I'd get the silver cock. HEATH. He had no legs to break if he had fallen, nor weight enough to crack his neck. BRIS. Nor thou wit enough to be hanged. Thou hadst rather be starved than break open a cupboard, and die a good poor man or an honest beggar, than a rich thief or a gentleman rogue. Thou thinkest it more commendable, I warrant, to be carried in a chair from constable to constable, with a warrant from the churchwardens; that thou art a poor man, and desirest their charity; that thou art willing to work, but art almost starved; hast half a dozen children, the eldest not above three years old, their mother having been dead this eight year; and such pitiful complaints, with as many tears as would drown all the victuals thou eat'st, than ride a mile or two in a cart, with the sheriff attending on thee! Thou believ'st that more may be gotten with a _Good your_ (non-sense) _Worship_ to every Jack than a _Sirrah, deliver your purse_ to the best lord i' th' land; and all this grounded upon that precise axiom, "A little with honesty is better than a great deal with knavery." HEATH. Thanks, good Bristle, for thy counsel. I mean to be as perfect a pickpocket, as good as ever nipped the judge's bung while he was condemning him. Look to thy purse, Bristle, lest I practise on thee first. The fairies can't creep through a lesser keyhole than I. O, for a dead man's hand now! 'Tis as good as poppy-seed to charm the house asleep; it makes 'um as senseless as itself. Come, shall we turn knight-errants? Name the first adventure. Dost thou know no enchanted castle, no golden ladies in distress or imprisoned by some old giant usurer? BRIS. Stay a little, Heath. I have a design in my head that will outgo Don Quixote or Palmerin as far as they did the giants they overcame--a trick that shall load us with money without any fear of th' cart.