+Cyph.+ Good your worship, give A poor seafaring man your charity To carry me back again. I'm come above A hundred mile to tell you this. +Ware.+ Go in, And let my factor, if he be come in, Reward thee: stay and sup, too. +Cyph.+ Thank your worship. [_Exit +Cypher+._ +Ware.+ Why should I not now hang myself? Or, if It be a fate that will more hide itself, And keep me from discredit, tie some weight About my neck to sink me to the bottom O' th' Thames, not to be found, [and so] to keep my body From rising up and telling tales. Two wrecks, And both worth forty thousand pound there! Why, That landed here were worth an hundred. I Will drown myself. I nothing have to do Now in this world but drown myself. +Plot.+ Fie! these Are desperate resolutions. Take heart, sir; There may be ways yet to relieve you. +Ware.+ How? +Plot.+ Why, for your lost ships, say, sir, I should bring Two o' th' Assurance Office that should warrant Their safe return? 'Tis not known yet: would you Give three parts to secure the fourth? +Ware.+ I'd give ten to secure one. +Plot.+ Well, sir, and for your wife, Say I should prove it were no lawful match, And that she is another man's--you'd take The piece of service well? +Ware.+ Yes, and repent That when I had so good an heir begot Unto my hand, I was so rash to aim At one of my own dotage. +Plot.+ Say no more, sir; But keep the sailor, that he stir not. We'll About it straight. [_Exeunt +Plotwell+ and +Roseclap+._ +Ware.+ How much I was deceiv'd To think ill of my nephew, in whose revenge I see the heavens frown on me! Seas and winds Swell and rage for him against me; but I will Appease their furies, and be reconciled. SCENE V. [_Manet +Warehouse+._] _Enter +Seathrift+, +Mistress Seathrift+, +Mistress Holland+, +Mistress Scruple+._ +Mis. Sea.+ Much joy to you, sir; you have made quick despatch. I like a man that can love, woo, and wed, All in an hour. My husband was so long A-getting me; so many friends' consents Were to be ask'd, that when we came to church, 'Twas not a marriage, but our times were out, And we were there made free of one another. +Mis. Hol.+ I look'd to find you abed and a young sheriff Begot by this. My husband, when I came From church, by this time had his caudle: I Had not a garter left, nor he a point. +Mis. Scr.+ Surely, all that my husband did the first Night we were married, was to call for one Of his wrought caps more to allay his rheum. +Mis. Hol.+ We hear y' have match'd a courtier, sir: a gallant: One that can spring fire in your blood, and dart Fresh flames into you.