Brai. Faith, a device, a device; nay, for the love of reason,
gentlemen, and avoiding the danger, stand not here; withdraw, and
I'll tell you all.
Wel. But art thou sure he will stay thy return?
Brai. Do I live, sir? what a question is that!
Wel. We'll prorogue his expectation, then, a little: Brainworm,
thou shalt go with us.--Come on, gentlemen.==-Nay, I pray thee,
sweet Ned, droop not; 'heart, an our wits be so wretchedly dull,
that one old plodding brain can outstrip us all, would we were e'en
prest to make porters of, and serve out the remnant of our days in
Thames-street, or at Custom-house key, in a civil war against the
carmen!
Brai. Amen, amen, amen, say I. [Exeunt.
SCENE II---The Old Jewry. KITELY'S Warehouse.
Enter KITELY and CASH.
Kit. What says he, Thomas? did you speak with him?
Cash. He will expect you, sir, within this half hour.
Kit. Has he the money ready, can you tell?
Cash. Yes, sir, the money was brought in last night.
Kit.
O, that is well; fetch me my cloak, my cloak!--- [Exit Cash.
Stay, let me see, an hour to go and come;
Ay, that will be the least; and then 'twill be
An hour before I can dispatch with him,
Or very near; well, I will say two hours.
Two hours! ha! things never dreamt of yet,
May be contrived, ay, and effected too,
In two hours' absence; well, I will not go.
Two hours! No, fleering Opportunity,
I will not give your subtilty that scope.
Who will not judge him worthy to be robb'd,
That sets his doors wide open to a thief,
And shews the felon where his treasure lies?
Again, what earthly spirit but will attempt
To taste the fruit of beauty's golden tree,
When leaden sleep seals up the dragon's eyes?
I will not go. Business, go by for once.
No, beauty, no; you are of too good caract,
To be left so, without a guard, or open,
Your lustre, too, 'll inflame at any distance,
Draw courtship to you, as a jet doth straws;
Put motion in a stone, strike fire from ice,
Nay, make a porter leap you with his burden.
You must be then kept up, close, and well watch'd,
For, give you opportunity, no quick-sand
Devours or swallows swifter! He that lends
His wife, if she be fair, or time or place,
Compels her to be false. I will not go!
The dangers are too many;---and then the dressing
Is a most main attractive! Our great heads
Within this city never were in safety
Since our wives wore these little caps: I'll change 'em;
I'll change 'em straight in mine: mine shall no more
Wear three-piled acorns, to make my horns ake.
Nor will I go; I am resolved for that.
Re-enter CASH with a cloak.
Carry in my cloak again. Yet stay. Yet do, too:
I will defer going, on all occasions.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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