Some Business calls me hence, (And of importance) which denies me leisure To give you his full character: In few words (Though rich) he's covetous beyond expression, And to encrease his heap, will dare the Devil, And all the plagues of darkness: and to these So jealous, as if you would parallel Old _Argus_ to him, you must multiply His Eyes an hundred times: of these none sleep. He that would charm the heaviest lid, must hire A better _Mercurie_, than _Jove_ made use of: Bless your selves from the thought of him and her, For 'twill be labour lost: So farewel Signiors.-- [_Exit_. _Ars_. _Leandro_? in a dream? wake man for shame. _Mil_. Trained into a fools paradise with a tale Of an imagin'd Form. _Lea_. _Jamie_ is noble, And with a forg'd Tale would not wrong his Friend, Nor am I so much fir'd with lust as Envie, That such a churl as _Bartolus_ should reap So sweet a harvest, half my State to any To help me to a share. _Ars_. Tush do not hope for Impossibilities. _Lea_. I must enjoy her, And my prophetique love tells me I shall, Lend me but your assistance. _Ars_. Give it o're. _Mil_. I would not have thee fool'd. _Lea_. I have strange Engines Fashioning here: and _Bartolus_ on the Anvil, Disswade me not, but help me. _Mil_. Take your fortune, If you come off well, praise your wit; if not, Expect to be the subject of our Laughter. [_Exeunt_. SCENA II. _Enter_ Octavio, _and_ Jacinta. _Jac_. You met _Don Henrique_? _Oct_. Yes. _Jac_. What comfort bring you? Speak cheerfully: how did my letter work On his hard temper? I am sure I wrote it So feelingly, and with the pen of sorrow, That it must force Compunction. _Oct_. You are cozen'd; Can you with one hand prop a falling Tower? Or with the other stop the raging main, When it breaks in on the usurped shore? Or any thing that is impossible? And then conclude that there is some way left, To move him to compassion. _Jac_. Is there a Justice Or thunder (my _Octavio_) and he Not sunk unto the center? _Oct_. Good _Jacinta_, With your long practised patience bear afflictions, And by provoking call not on Heavens anger, He did not only scorn to read your letter, But (most inhumane as he is) he cursed you, Cursed you most bitterly. _Jac_. The bad mans charity. Oh that I could forget there were a Tye, In me, upon him! or the relief I seek, (If given) were bounty in him, and not debt, Debt of a dear accompt! _Oct_.