+Sea.+ I assure you, And that's a shrewd mischance. +Tim.+ For then might I Ha' gone to th' counting-house, and set at liberty Those harmless angels, which for many years Have been condemn'd to darkness. +Plot.+ You'd not do Like your penurious father, who was wont To walk his dinner out in Paul's, whilst you Kept Lent at home, and had, like folk in sieges, Your meals weigh'd to you. +New.+ Indeed they say he was A monument of Paul's. +Tim.+ Yes, he was there As constant as Duke Humphrey.[235] I can show The prints where he sat holes i' th' logs. +Plot.+ He wore More pavement out with walking than would make A row of new stone-saints, and yet refused To give to th' reparation.[236] +Bright.+ I've heard He'd make his jack go empty to cosen neighbours. +Plot.+ Yes, when there was not fire enough to warm A mastich-patch t' apply to his wife's temples, In great extremity of toothache. This is True, Master Timothy, is't not? +Tim.+ Yes: then linen To us was stranger than to Capuchins. My flesh is of an order with wearing shirts Made of the sacks that brought o'er cochineal, Copperas, and indigo. My sister wears Smocks made of currant-bags. +Sea.+ I'll not endure it: Let's show ourselves. [_Aside._ +Ware.+ Stay: hear all first. [_Aside._ +New.+ Thy uncle was such another. +Plot.+ I have heard He still last left th' Exchange; and would commend The wholesomeness o' th' air in Moorfields, when The clock struck three sometimes. +Plot.+ Surely myself, Cypher, his factor, and an ancient cat Did keep strict diet, had our Spanish fare, Four olives among three. My uncle would Look fat with fasting; I ha' known him surfeit Upon a bunch of raisins, swoon at sight Of a whole joint, and rise an epicure From half an orange. [_They undisguise._ +Ware.+ Gentlemen, 'tis false. Cast off your cloud. D'ye know me, sir? +Plot.+ My uncle! +Sea.+ And do you know me, sir? +Tim.+ My father! +Ware.+ Nay, We'll open all the plot; reveal yourself. +Plot.+ Cypher, the waterman! +Quart.+ Salewit, away! I feel a tempest coming. [_Exit +Quartfield+ and +Salewit+._ +Ware.+ Are you struck With a torpedo, nephew? +Sea.+ Ha' you seen too A Gorgon's head, that you stand speechless? or Are you a fish in earnest? +Bright.+ It begins to thunder. +New.+ We will make bold to take our leaves. +Ware.+ What, is your captain fled? +Sea.+ Nay, gentlemen, forsake your company! +Bright.+ Sir, we have business. [_Exeunt +Bright+ and +Newcut+._ +Sea.+ Troth, it is not kindly done.