_Avar._ Come on, sweet bags of gold! come on, with a good will! I, on you so tender, and ye so froward still? Come forward, I pray you, sweet bags! ah, will ye so? Come! or I must draw you, whether ye will or no. I know your desire; ye would fain be in my chest-- When the belly is full, the bones would be at rest! Be content, awhile! I will couch you all up soon Where ye shall not be spied, neither of sun nor moon. What now, brother Honesty! what pry ye this way? Is there anything here that is yours--can ye say? Look off from my bags! it is a pretty matter: Ye can see no green cheese but your teeth will water! _Adul._ _In nomine Patris_, hast thou got all this sens? _Avar._ Why, thinkest thou I have sat idle since I went hence? Nay! I have filled my little purses too, each one. _Adul._ Hast thou so indeed? thou art a fellow alone. _Avar._ With old angelots and Edwardes I think I have. Come forth! how say ye, sir? peep out, ye little knave! How think you by this bunting? is he full or no? And his fellows all, doth not their skin stretch for woe? Now these little buttons, no bigger than two nuts, Have they not played gluttons, and filled well their guts? _Adul._ But look! who cometh yonder, puffing and tuffing? _Avar._ Come the devil, if him lust, staring and snuffing! ACTUS TERTII, SCENA QUINTA. OPPRESSION. AVARICE. ADULATION. _Oppr._ In all my whole life was I never wearier. _Avar._ Come near, on God's half! the mo knaves, the merrier! Where have ye lost your breath? in some coffer diving? _Oppr._ Shouldering among them for a piece of a living. _Adul._ And what, are you now in any good hope to thrive? _Oppr._ Faith! if I lust, I may wear mitres four or five; I have so many half bishoprics, at the least. _Adul._ By th' arms of Calais! then am I a very beast. _Avar._ Why, what hast thou gotten to thy share in this space? _Adul._ Three hundred pound by the year, and one manor place. _Avar._ Ah, the passion of God! three hundred pound! and no more? _Adul._ Is not that fair for him that had nothing before? _Avar._ What, three hundred pound by years! call thee Honesty? Call thee a knave! thou shamest our fraternity! Three hundred pound! if some man had been in thy room, A thousand pound a year, ere this time, might have come. Three hundred pound a year! against our next meeting Get more! or, I shall give a homely greeting. _Adul._ He here hath flitched the bishoprics already. _Avar._ Yea! I can him thank; he hath been somewhat speedy. _Oppr._ But yet have I left many a good gobbet loose: Change thou for the rest! give a feather for a goose! _Adul._ Didst thou with any one of them make such exchange?