_Val._ You have no mind to better me. _Unc._ Yes, Cousin, and to that end I come, and once more offer you all that my power is master of. _Val._ A match then, lay me down fifty pounds there. _Unc._ There it is, Sir. _Val._ And on it write, that you are pleased to give this, as due unto my merit, without caution of land redeeming, tedious thanks, or thrift hereafter to be hoped for. _Unc._ How? [Luce _lays a Suit and Letter at the door._ _Val._ Without daring, when you are drunk, to relish of revilings, to which you are prone in Sack, Uncle. _Unc._ I thank you, Sir. _Lance._ Come, come away, let the young wanton play a while, away I say, Sir, let him go forward with his naked fashion, he will seek you too morrow; goodly weather, sultry hot, sultry, how I sweat! _Unc._ Farewel, Sir. [_Exeunt_ Uncle _and_ Lance. _Val._ Would I sweat too, I am monstrous vext, and cold too; and these are but thin pumps to walk the streets in; clothes I must get, this fashion will not fadge with me; besides, 'tis an ill winter wear,--What art thou? yes, they are clothes, and rich ones, some fool has left 'em: and if I should utter--what's this paper here? Let these be only worn by the most noble and deserving Gentleman _Valentine,_--dropt out o'th' clouds! I think they are full of gold too; well, I'le leave my wonder, and be warm again, in the next house I'le shift. [_Exit._ _Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._ _Enter_ Francisco, Uncle, _and_ Lance. _Fran._ Why do you deal thus with him? 'tis unnobly. _Unc._ Peace Cousin peace, you are too tender of him, he must be dealt thus with, he must be cured thus, the violence of his disease _Francisco,_ must not be jested with, 'tis grown infectious, and now strong Corrosives must cure him. _Lance._ H'as had a stinger, has eaten off his clothes, the next his skin comes. _Unc._ And let it search him to the bones, 'tis better, 'twill make him feel it. _Lance._ Where be his noble friends now? will his fantastical opinions cloath him, or the learned Art of having nothing feed him? _Unc._ It must needs greedily, for all his friends have flung him off, he is naked, and where to skin himself again, if I know, or can devise how he should get himself lodging, his Spirit must be bowed, and now we have him, have him at that we hoped for. _Lance._ Next time we meet him cracking of nuts, with half a cloak about him, for all means are cut off, or borrowing sixpence, to shew his bounty in the pottage Ordinary? _Fran._ Which way went he? _Lance._ Pox, why should you ask after him, you have been trimm'd already, let him take his fortune, [he] spun it out himself, Sir, there's no pitie. _Unc._ Besides some good to you now, from this miserie. _Fran._ I rise upon his ruines! fie, fie, Uncle, fie honest _Lance._ Those Gentlemen were base people, that could so soon take fire to his destruction. _Unc._ You are a fool, you are a fool, a young man. _Enter_ Valentine.