STEPH. Well, go thy ways, thou pattern of true virtue; My heart is full: I could e'en weep, (And much ado I had to forbear.) To hear a brother begging in a jail, That but erewhile spread up a lofty sail As proudly as the best. O, 'twere a sin Unpardonable in me, should I not succour him! Yes, I will do't, yet closely it shall be done, And he not know from whence his comforts come. What ho! keeper, there! a word, I pray. _Enter_ KEEPER. KEEPER. What's your pleasure, sir? STEPH. What's he that at the grate there begg'd even now? KEEPER. One Master Foster, sir, a decayed citizen new-come in. Cry you mercy, sir, you know him better than myself, I think. STEPH. I should do, knew he me, as I would know him. Prythee, take him from the grate; and that No more he stand to beg, there is ten pound To pay his score and take off all his wants: If he demand who sends it, tell him 'tis Thine own free hand to lend him money. KEEPER. Well, sir, I shall. STEPH. Spend what he will, my purse shall pay it all; And at his parting hence the poorest prisoner, And all free citizens that live in Ludgate, Shall bless his coming in: I'll for his sake Do something now that, whilst this city stands, Shall keep the Fosters' name engraven so high, As no black storm shall cloud their memory. KEEPER. Heaven bless your purpose, sir! [_Exeunt._ _Enter_ STEPHEN'S WIFE, _and her Sister_, OLD FOSTER'S WIFE. WIFE. Sister, there's no way to make sorrow light But in the noble bearing; be content. Blows given from heaven are our due punishment: All shipwrecks are no drownings: you see buildings Made fairer from their ruins: he that I married-- The brother to your husband--lay, you know, On the same bed of misery; yet now He's rank'd with the best citizens. MRS FOS. O, you were born to wealth and happiness; I, to want and scorn! WIFE. Come, I will work my husband: stay this grief. The longest sorrow finds at last relief. _Enter_ CLOWN. Now, sir, your business? CLOWN. Marry, mistress, here are two creatures, scarce able to make one man, desire to speak with you. WIFE. What are they? Know their names. CLOWN. Nay, I know that already: the one is a thing that was plucked into the world by the head and shoulders to be wondered at, and 'tis called a knight; the other is a coach-horse of the same overridden race, and that's a foolish gentleman. WIFE. O, they are my old debtors, Speedwell and Lambskin: Go, call them in: and, my gentle sister, Comfort yourself and my imprison'd brother, To whom commend me; give to him this gold; What good I can I'll do for him, be bold.