PYE. Why, the better subject to work a scape upon; thou shalt o’en change clothes with him, and leave him here, and so— CAPTAIN. Push, I publish’t him e’en now to my Corporal: he will be damned, ere he do me so much good; why, I know a more proper, a more handsome device than that, if the slave would be sociable. Now, goodman Fleer-face. NICHOLAS. Oh, my Cousin begins to speak to me now: I shall be acquainted with him again, I hope. SKIRMISH. Look what ridiculous Raptures take hold of his wrinkles. PYE. Then, what say you to this device? a happy one, Captain? CAPTAIN. Speak low, George; Prison Rats have wider ears than those in Malt-lofts. NICHOLAS. Cousin, if it lay in my power, as they say—to—do— CAPTAIN. Twould do me an exceeding pleasure, indeed, that, but ne’er talk forder on’t: the fool will be hang’d, ere he do’t. [To the Corporal.] CORPORAL. Pax, I’ll thump ’im to’t. PYE. Why, do but try the Fopster, and break it to him bluntly. CAPTAIN. And so my disgrace will dwell in his Jaws, and the slave slaver out our purpose to his Master, for would I were but as sure on’t as I am sure he will deny to do’t. NICHOLAS. I would be heartily glad, Cousin, if any of my friendships, as they say, might—stand—ah— PYE. Why, you see he offers his friendship foolishly to you already. CAPTAIN. Aye, that’s the hell on’t, I would he would offer it wisely. NICHOLAS. Verily, and indeed la, Cousin— CAPTAIN. I have took note of thy fleers a good while: if thou art minded to do me good—as thou gapst upon me comfortably, and giv’st me charitable faces, which indeed is but a fashion in you all that are Puritains—wilt soon at night steal me thy Master’s chain? NICHOLAS. Oh, I shall swoon! PYE. Corporal, he starts already. CAPTAIN. I know it to be worth three hundred Crowns, and with the half of that I can buy my life at a Brokers, at second hand, which now lies in pawn to th’ Law: if this thou refuse to do, being easy and nothing dangerous, in that thou art held in good opinion of thy Master, why tis a palpable Argument thou holdst my life at no price, and these thy broken and unioynted offers are but only created in thy lip, now borne, and now buried, foolish breath only. What, woult do’t? shall I look for happiness in thy answer? NICHOLAS. Steal my Master’s chain, qu’the? no, it shall ne’er be said, that Nicholas Saint Tantlings committed Bird-lime! CAPTAIN. Nay, I told you as much; did I not? tho he be a Puritain, yet he will be a true man. NICHOLAS. Why, Cousin, you know tis written, thou shalt not steal. CAPTAIN. Why, and fool, thou shalt love thy Neighbour, and help him in extremities. NICHOLAS. Mass, I think it be, indeed: in what Chapter’s that, Cousin? CAPTAIN. Why, in the first of Charity, the 2. Verse. NICHOLAS. The first of Charity, quatha! that’s a good jest; there’s no such Chapter in my book! CAPTAIN. No, I knew twas torn out of thy Book, and that makes so little in thy heart.