O. FOS. Get thee from my sight, Thou devil in red: com'st thou in scarlet pride To tread on thy poor brother in a jail? Is there but one small conduit-pipe that runs Cold water to my comfort, and wouldst thou Cut off that, thou cruel man? STEPH. Yes; I'll stop that pipe that thou may'st pining sit; When drops but fell on me, thou poison'd it: Thou thrust'st a son's name from thy cruel breast For clothing of his uncle; now that uncle Shall thrust him naked forth for clothing thee; Banish'd for ever from my wealth and me. O. FOS. Thou canst not be to nature so uneven, To punish that which has a pay from heaven: Pity, I mean, and duty. [STEPHEN _offers to strike_ ROBERT.] Wouldst thou strike? Wound me, then, that will kill thee, if I can: STEPH. Thou ravest. O. FOS. How can I choose? Thou makest me mad: For shame thou shouldst not make these white hairs sad: Churl, beat not my poor boy; let him not lose Thy love for my sake; I had rather bruise My soul with torments for a thousand years, Could I but live them, rather than salt tears Thy malice draw from him: see, here's thy gold; Tell it: none's stole. My woes can ne'er be told! ROB. O misery! is nature quite forgot? O. FOS. Choke with thy dunghill-muck! and vex me not. STEPH. No, keep it; he perhaps that money stole To give it thee; for which, to vex thy soul, I'll turn him forth of doors: make him thy heir, Of jails, miseries, curses, and despair, For here I disinherit him of all. O. FOS. No matter; lands to him in heaven will fall. WIFE. Good husband. MRS FOS. Gentle brother. ROB. Dear uncle. STEPH. I am deaf. O. FOS. And damn'd; the devil's thumbs stop thine ears! STEPH. I'll make thee wash those curses off with tears. Keeper, away with him out of my sight; And do, sir, as I charg'd you. KEEPER. Yes, sir, I will. O. FOS. Poor tyranny! when lions weak lambs kill. [_Exeunt all but_ STEPHEN _and his_ WIFE. STEPH. How now, wife, art vex'd yet? WIFE. Never so well content, believe me, sir; Your mildness wears this mask of cruelty well. STEPH. I am glad they're gone; mine eyes with rain did swell, And much ado they had from pouring down. The keeper knows my mind. Wife, I have paid My brother's debts; and when he's out of door To march to Newgate, he shall be set free. WIFE. O let me kiss thee for this charity. But for your cousin, sir? STEPH. He's my life's best health. The boy shall not miscarry for more wealth Than London gates lock safe up every night. My breath in black clouds flies: my thoughts are white. WIFE. Why from Ludgate do you remove [the] prisoners?