_Free._ Well, but noble captain, would you make me believe that you, who know half the town, have so many friends, and have obliged so many, can't borrow fifty or a hundred pounds? _Man._ Why, noble lieutenant, you who know all the town, and call all you know friends, methinks should not wonder at it; since you find ingratitude too. For how many lords' families (though descended from blacksmiths or tinkers) hast thou called great and illustrious? how many ill tables called good eating? how many noisy coxcombs wits? how many pert cocking[125] cowards stout? how many tawdry affected rogues well-dressed? how many perukes admired? and how many ill verses applauded? and yet canst not borrow a shilling. Dost thou expect I, who always spoke truth, should? _Free._ Nay, now you think you have paid me; but hark you, captain, I have heard of a thing called grinning honour, but never of starving honour. _Man._ Well, but it has been the fate of some brave men; and if they won't give me a ship again, I can go starve anywhere with a musket on my shoulder. _Free._ Give you a ship! why, you will not solicit it. _Man._ If I have not solicited it by my services, I know no other way. _Free._ Your servant, sir; nay, then I'm satisfied, I must solicit my widow the closer, and run the desperate fortune of matrimony on shore. [_Exit._ _Enter_ VERNISH. _Man._ How!--Nay, here is a friend indeed; and he that has him in his arms can know no wants. [_Embraces_ VERNISH. _Ver._ Dear sir! and he that is in your arms is secure from all fears whatever: nay, our nation is secure by your defeat at sea, and the Dutch that fought against you have proved enemies to themselves only in bringing you back to us. _Man._ Fy! fy! this from a friend? and yet from any other 'twere insufferable: I thought I should never have taken anything ill from you. _Ver._ A friend's privilege is to speak his mind, though it be taken ill. _Man._ But your tongue need not tell me you think too well of me; I have found it from your heart, which spoke in actions, your unalterable heart. But Olivia is false, my friend, which I suppose is no news to you. _Ver._ He's in the right on't. [_Aside._ _Man._ But couldst thou not keep her true to me? _Ver._ Not for my heart, sir. _Man._ But could you not perceive it at all before I went? Could she so deceive us both? _Ver._ I must confess, the first time I knew it was three days after your departure, when she received the money you had left in Lombard-street in her name; and her tears did not hinder her, it seems, from counting that. You would trust her with all, like a true generous lover. _Man._ And she like a mean jilting-- _Ver._ Traitorous-- _Man._ Base-- _Ver._ Damned-- _Man._ Covetous-- _Ver._ Mercenary whore.--[_Aside._] I can hardly hold from laughing. _Man._ Ay, a mercenary whore indeed; for she made me pay her before I lay with her. _Ver._ How!--Why, have you lain with her? _Man._ Ay, ay.