LADY C. 'Tis true: perchance he'll take my money all, And purchase for himself, to give away To his own name, and put me, while I live, To a poor stipend. FRUIT. There you think aright. You can relieve no friends; you can bequeath Nothing at all, if he survive you, madam, As 'tis his hope he shall. LADY C. That hope may fail him. I am not yet so weak, but I may hop Over his grave. FRUIT. That is not in our knowledge. But if you do survive him, as I hope, Madam, you will, there is no law at all Can bar you of your thirds in all his land, And you besides are mistress of your own. And all the charitable deeds, which you After your death shall do, as building schools Or hospitals, shall go in your own name; Which otherwise Sir Argent Scrape would have, And with your riches build himself a fame. LADY C. I grant 'tis true: but will it not seem strange That I should serve him so? FRUIT. Strange, madam! no; Nothing is now more usual: all your widows Of aldermen, that marry lords of late, Make over their estates, and by that means Retain a power to curb their lordly husbands. When they, to raise the ruins of their houses, Do marry so: instead of purchasing What was expected, they do more engage Their land in thirds for them. LADY C. Well, I must trust The feoffees then: but they are honest men. FRUIT. You need not fear them; they are zealous men, Honest in all their dealings, and well known In London, madam. Will you seal it now? _Enter_ TRUSTY. LADY C. Yes, have you it? FRUIT. 'Tis here: Here's Master Trusty too, Your steward, madam; he and I shall be Enough for witnesses. LADY C. 'Tis true: give me The seal. So now dispose of it as I Intended, Master Fruitful. [_Seals and delivers._ FRUIT. I will, madam. LADY C. Trusty, come you along with me. [_Exeunt._ _Manet_ FRUITFUL.