SCENE III.[1231

[_Enter_] KITELY _and_ CASH.

_Kit._ What says he, Thomas? Did you speak with him?

_Cash._ He will expect you, sir, within this half hour.

_Kit._ Has he the money ready, can you tell?

_Cash._ Yes, sir, the money was brought in last night.

_Kit._ O, that is well; fetch me my cloak, my cloak!—[_Exit_ CASH.] 5 Stay, let me see, an hour to go and come; Ay, that will be the least; and then ’t will be An hour before I can dispatch with him, Or very near; well, I will say two hours. Two hours! ha! things never dreamt of yet, 10 May be contriv’d, ay, and effected too, In two hours’ absence; well, I will not go. Two hours! No, fleering Opportunity, I will not give your subtilty that scope. Who will not judge him worthy to be robb’d, 15 That sets his doors wide open to a thief, And shews the felon where his treasure lies? Again, what earthy spirit but will attempt To taste the fruit of beauty’s golden tree, When leaden sleep seals up the dragon’s eyes? I will not go. Business, go by for once. 21 No, beauty, no; you are of too good caract[1232] To be left so, without a guard, or open. Your lustre, too, ’ll inflame at any distance, Draw courtship to you, as a jet doth straws; 25 Put motion in a stone, strike fire from ice, Nay, make a porter leap you with his burden. You must be then kept up, close, and well watch’d, For, give you opportunity, no quick-sand Devours or swallows swifter! He that lends 30 His wife, if she be fair, or time or place, Compels her to be false. I will not go! The dangers are too many:—and then the dressing Is a most main attractive! Our great heads Within this city never were in safety 35 Since our wives wore these little caps. I’ll change ’em; I’ll change ’em straight in mine: mine shall no more Wear three-piled[1233] acorns, to make my horns ache,[1234] Nor will I go; I am resolv’d for that. [_Re-enter_ CASH _with a cloak._] Carry in my cloak again. Yet stay. Yet do, too: I will defer going, on all occasions. 41

_Cash._ Sir, Snare, your scrivener, will be there with th’ bonds.

_Kit._ That’s true: fool on me! I had clean forgot it; I must go. What’s a clock?

_Cash._ Exchange-time,[1235] sir.

_Kit._ ’Heart, then will Wellbred presently be here too, 45 With one or other of his loose consorts. I am a knave if I know what to say, What course to take, or which way to resolve. My brain, methinks, is like an hour-glass, Wherein my imaginations run like sands, 50 Filling up time; but then are turn’d and turn’d: So that I know not what to stay upon, And less, to put in act.—It shall be so. Nay, I dare build upon his secrecy, He knows not to deceive me.—Thomas!

_Cash._ Sir. 55

_Kit._ Yet now I have bethought me, too, I will not.— Thomas, is Cob within?

_Cash._ I think he be, sir.

_Kit._ But he’ll prate too, there is no speech of him. No, there were no man o’ the earth to[1236] Thomas, If I durst trust him; there is all the doubt. 60 But should he have a chink in him, I were gone. Lost i’ my fame for ever, talk for th’ Exchange! The manner he hath stood with, till this present, Doth promise no such change: what should I fear then? Well, come what will, I’ll tempt my fortune once. 65 Thomas—you may deceive me, but, I hope— Your love to me is more—

_Cash._ Sir, if a servant’s Duty, with faith, may be call’d love, you are More than in hope, you are possess’d of it.

_Kit._ I thank you heartily, Thomas: give me your hand: 70 With all my heart, good Thomas. I have, Thomas, A secret to impart unto you—but, When once you have it, I must seal your lips up; So far I tell you, Thomas.

_Cash._ Sir, for that——

_Kit._ Nay, hear me out. Think I esteem you, Thomas, 75 When I will let you in thus to my private. It is a thing sits nearer to my crest, Than thou art ’ware of, Thomas; if thou should’st Reveal it, but——

_Cash._ How, I reveal it?

_Kit._ Nay, I do not think thou would’st; but if thou should’st, 80 ’Twere a great weakness.

_Cash._ A great treachery: Give it no other name.

_Kit._ Thou wilt not do ’t, then?

_Cash._ Sir, if I do, mankind disclaim me ever!

_Kit._ He will not swear, he has some reservation, Some conceal’d purpose, and close[1237] meaning sure; 85 Else, being urg’d so much, how should he choose But lend an oath to all this protestation? He’s no precisian,[1238] that I’m certain of, Nor rigid Roman Catholic: he’ll play At fayles,[1239] and tick-tack;[1239] I have heard him swear. 90 What should I think of it? Urge him again, And by some other way? I will do so. Well, Thomas, thou hast sworn not to disclose:— Yes, you did swear?

_Cash._ Not yet, sir, but I will, Please you——

_Kit._ No, Thomas, I dare take thy word, But, if thou wilt swear, do as thou think’st good; 96 I am resolv’d[1240] without it; at thy pleasure.

_Cash._ By my soul’s safety then, sir, I protest, My tongue shall ne’er take knowledge of a word Deliver’d me in nature of your trust. 100

_Kit._ It is too much; these ceremonies need not; I know thy faith to be as firm as rock. Thomas, come hither, near; we cannot be Too private in this business. So it is,— [_Aside._] Now he has sworn, I dare the safelier venture. 105 I have of late, by divers observations—— [_Aside._] But whether his oath can bind him, yea, or no, Being not taken lawfully?[1241] Ha! say you? I will ask council ere I do not proceed:— Thomas, it will be now too long to stay, 110 I’ll spy some fitter time soon, or to-morrow.

_Cash._ Sir, at your pleasure.

_Kit._ I will think:—and, Thomas, I pray you search the books ’gainst my return, For the receipts ’twixt me and Traps.

_Cash._ I will, sir.

_Kit._ And hear you, if your mistress’ brother, Wellbred, 115 Chance to bring hither any gentlemen Ere I come back, let one straight bring me word.

_Cash._ Very well, sir.

_Kit._ To the Exchange, do you hear? Or here in Coleman-street, to justice Clement’s. Forget it not, nor be not out of the way. 120

_Cash._ I will not, sir.

_Kit._ I pray you have a care on ’t. Or, whether he come or no, if any other, Stranger, or else; fail not to send me word.

_Cash._ I shall not, sir.

_Kit._ Be ’t your special business Now to remember it.

_Cash._ Sir, I warrant you. 125

_Kit._ But, Thomas, this is not the secret, Thomas, I told you of.

_Cash._ No, sir; I do suppose it.

_Kit._ Believe me, it is not.

_Cash._ Sir, I do believe you.

_Kit._ By heaven it is not, that’s enough. But, Thomas, I would not you should utter it, do you see, 130 To any creature living; yet I care not. Well, I must hence. Thomas, conceive thus much; It was a trial of you, when I meant So deep a secret to you; I mean not this, 134 But that I have to tell you; this is nothing, this. But, Thomas, keep this from my wife, I charge you. Lock’d up in silence, midnight, buried here.— No greater hell than to be slave to fear. [_Exit._]

_Cash. Lock’d up in silence, midnight, buried here!_ Whence should this flood of passion, trow, take head? ha! 140 Best dream no longer of this running humour, For fear I sink; the violence of the stream Already hath transported me so far, That I can feel no ground at all. But soft— Oh, ’tis our water-bearer: somewhat has crost him now. 145