Go, Frailty, run, and know, Whether he be yet living, or yet dead, That here before my door received his hurt.
FRAILTY. Madam, he was carried to the superiour, but if he had no money when he came there, I warrant he's dead by this time.
[Exit Frailty.]
FRANCES. Sure, that man is a rare fortune-teller; never looked upon our hands, nor upon any mark about us: a wondrous fellow, surely.
MOLL. I am glad, I have the use of my tongue yet: tho of nothing else. I shall find the way to marry too, I hope, shortly.
WIDDOW. O where's my Brother, Sir Godfrey? I would he were here, that I might relate to him how prophetically the cunning Gentleman spoke in all things.
[Enter Sir Godfrey in a rage.]
SIR GODFREY. O my Chain, my Chain! I have lost my Chain. Where be these Villains, Varlets?
WIDDOW. Oh! has lost his Chain.
SIR GODFREY. My Chain, my chain!
WIDDOW. Brother, be patient, hear me speak: you know I told you that a cunning man told me that you should have a loss, and he has prophecied so true.
SIR GODFREY. Out, he's a villain, to prophecy of the loss of my chain: twas worth above three hundred Crowns,--besides, twas my Fathers, my fathers fathers, my Grand-fathers huge grant- fathers. I had as lieve ha lost my Neck, as the chain that hung about it. O, my chain, my chain!
WIDDOW. Oh, brother, who can be against a misfortune! tis happy twas no more.
SIR GODFREY. No, more! O goodly godly sister, would you had me lost more? my best gown, too, with the cloth of gold-lace? my holiday Gascoines, and my Jerkin set with pearl? No more!
WIDDOW. Oh, Brother! you can read--
SIR GODFREY. But I cannot read where my chain is.--What strangers have been here? you let in strangers, Thieves, and Catch-poles; how comes it gone? there was none above with me but my Tailor; and my Tailor will not--steal, I hope?
MOLL. No, he's afraid of a chain!
[Enter Frailty.]
WIDDOW. How now, sirrah? the news?
FRAILTY. O Mistress, he may well be called a Corporal now, for his corps are as dead as a cole Capons.
WIDDOW. More happiness.
SIR GODFREY. Sirrah, what's this to my chain? where's my chain, knave?
FRAILTY. Your chain, sir?
SIR GODFREY. My chain is lost, villain.
FRAILTY. I would he were hang'd in chains that has it then for me. Alas, sir, I saw none of your chain, since you were hung with it your self.
SIR GODFREY. Out, varlet! it had full three thousand Links. I have oft told it over at my prayers: Over and over, full three thousand Links.
FRAILTY. Had it so, sir: sure, it cannot be lost then; I'll put you in that comfort.
SIR GODFREY. Why, why?
FRAILTY. Why, if your chain had so many Links, it cannot choose but come to light.
[Enter Nicholas.]
SIR GODFREY. Delusion! now, long Nicholas, where's my chain?
NICHOLAS. Why, about your Neck, ist not, sir?
SIR GODFREY. About my neck, Varlet! My chain is lost. Tis stole away, I'm robbed.
WIDDOW. Nay, Brother, show your self a man.
NICHOLAS. Aye, if it be lost or stole, if he would be patient, Mistress, I could bring him to a Cunning Kinsman of mine that would fetcht again with a Sesarara.
SIR GODFREY. Canst thou? I will be patient: say, where dwells he?
NICHOLAS. Marry, he dwells now, Sir, where he would not dwell, and he could choose: in the Marshalsea, sir; but he's a exlent fellow if he were out; has traveled all the world o'er, he, and been in the seven and twenty Provinces; why, he would make it be fetcht, Sir, if twere rid a thousand mile out of town.
SIR GODFREY. An admirable fellow: what lies he for?
NICHOLAS. Why, he did but rob a Steward of ten groats tother Night, as any man would ha done, and there he lies fort.
SIR GODFREY. I'll make his peace: a Trifle! I'll get his pardon, Beside a bountiful reward. I'll about it. But see the Clerks, the Justice will do much. I will about it straight: good sister, pardon me. All will be well, I hope, and turn to good, The name of Conjurer has laid my blood.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III.