O. FOS. The merchant's casualty: We always venture on uncertain odds, Although we bear hope's emblem, the anchor, With us. The wind brought it; let the wind blow 't Away again; should not the sea sometimes Be partner with us, our wealth would swallow us. BREW. A good resolve: but now I must be bold To touch you with somewhat that concerns you. O. FOS. I could prevent[37] you: is't not my unthrifty brother? BREW. Nay, leave out th' adjective (unthrifty); Your brother, sir--'tis he that I would speak of. O. FOS. He cannot be nam'd without _unthrifty_, sir; 'Tis his proper epithet: would you conceit But what my love has done for him: So oft, so chargeable, and so expensive, You would not urge another addition. BREW. Nay, sir, you must not stay at quantity, Till he forfeit the name of brother, Which is inseparable: he's now in Ludgate, sir. And part of your treasure lies buried with him. O. FOS. Ay, by vulgar blemish, but not by any good account: There let him howl; 'tis the best stay he hath; For nothing but a prison can contain him, So boundless is his riot: twice have I rais'd His decayed fortunes to a fair estate; But with as fruitless charity as if I had thrown My safe-landed substance back into the sea; Or dress in pity some corrupted jade, And he should kick me for my courtesy. I am sure you cannot but hear what quicksands He finds out; as dice, cards, pigeon-holes,[38] And which is more, should I not restrain it, He'd make my state his prodigality.[39] BREW. All this may be, sir; yet examples daily show To our eyes that prodigals return at last; And the loudest roarer[40] (as our city phrase is) Will speak calm and smooth; you must help with hope, sir: Had I such a brother, I should think That heaven had made him as an instrument For my best charity to work upon: This is a maxim sure, _Some are made poor,_ _That rich men by giving may increase their store._ Nor think, sir, That I do tax your labours and mean myself For to stand idly by; for I have vow'd, If heaven but bless this voyage now abroad, To leave some memorable relic after me, That shall preserve my name alive till doomsday. O. FOS. Ay, sir, that work is good, and therein could I Join with your good intents; but to relieve A waste-good, a spendthrift---- BREW. O, no more, no more, good sir! O. FOS. [_To_ RICH.] Sirrah, when saw you my son Robert? RICH. This morning, sir; he said he would go visit his uncle. O. FOS. I pay for their meetings, I am sure: that boy Makes prize of all his fingers 'light upon To relieve his unthrifty uncle. BREW. Does he rob![41] In troth, I commend him. [_Aside._ O. FOS. [_To_ RICH.] 'Tis partly your fault, sirrah; you see't and suffer it.