Act 5. Scene 3 -

Hearsay, Slicer , and Shape in his Confessors habit.

Hear. Come my good Vulture speak; what prey? what mirth?
Slic. What income my dear holiness? what sport?
Sha. Give me the Chair; imagine me the Knight
(When I sit down,) and (when I stand) the Confessor.
As he is thus acting , Meanwell and Sir Thomas discover themselves above .
Thus I come in peace to thy soul good Son,
('Tis you must give it Father; I am ill,
I'm very ill; fit only now for Heav'n.
My Soul would fain be flying, were't not for
A Sin or two that clogs her.) But for a sin
Or two that clogs her? take heed, don't so neer
Your last deliverance play the Sophister
With Heav'n. A sin or two? why, I've heard say
You're wont to skrew your wretched Tenants up
To th' utmost farthing, and then stand upon
The third Rent Capon. Then he answers me
In the small dolfull tune of a Country wench
Examin'd by th' Officiall, for the mischance
Of a great belly caught at a Whitsonale;
(I could not help it.) Then it is your custome
When you invite, to think your meat laid out;
You write your Beef disburs'd, are wont to call
For the return of't just, as for a debt;
(True.) That two Chimneys ne'r yet smok'd at once
In all your Buildings; (All most true.) That you
Are wont to keep an untouch'd Capon, till
Corruption makes it able to walk out
And visit the Barn Door again: I could
Say much more, but I'd rather have you
Come so much nearer pardon, as t' accuse
Your self by your own mouth.
Slic. How grave the Rogue was?
Sha. (I'l do 't as strictly as mine Enemy.)
Sir Tho. I cannot hold; I'l break in as I am,
And take my vengeance whiles my furie's hot.
Mean. Repress it Sir a while; h' hath but begun.
Sha. Then thus he dralls it out. (I do confess
I've been addicted to frugality.)
Son do not mince; pray call it Covetousness.
( Imprimis It hath ever been my custome
To ride beyond an Inn to save my horse meat.
Item , When once I had done so, and found
No entertainment, I beguild the children
Of their parch'd pease, my Man being left to that
We make the embleme of mortality:)
What? grass you mean? (or sweet Hay which you please.)
Hear. Me thinks this's truly coming to a Reckoning,
He doth account for's sins with Item so.
Sha. ( Item I've often bought a Cheapside Custard,
And so refresh'd my soul under my Cloak,
As I did walk the streets.) Cloaking of sins,
Although they be but eating sins, I do
Pronounce most dangerous. (I find this so,
I'd almost lost mine Eyes by't being justled.)
Slic . O thou rich soul of Roguery.
Shap . (Moreover
I once sung Psalmes with Servants where I lodg'd,
And took part with em in their lovely Reliques;
Truly my soul did lust, they were Temptations.)
What sing that you might eat? It is the sin
O'th' Brethren Son; but that their Reliques are
Whole widows houses.
Hear . O thou preaching Devill!
Sha . ( Item I enter'd into a Chandlers shop,
And eat my bread in secret, whiles my man
Fed on the wholsome steem of Candle sewet.
Item , which grieves me most, I did make bold
With the Black Puddings of my needy Taylor;
Satan was strong, they did provoke me much.)
Sr Tho . Wretch that I was to trust my bosome to
One so exactly bad, that if the book
Of all mens lives lay open to his view
Would meet no sin unpractis'd by himself.
I will rush in.
Mean . Good Sir keep close a while.
Sha . I see no tears, no penetentiall tears.
(Alas! I cannot weep, mine Eyes are Pumice.
But Alms I hope may yet redeem.) Alms giv'n
In a large manner Son. (Won't fifty pounds
Wipe off my score?) If doubled't may do something.
(Can I be sav'd no cheaper? take this then
And pray for me.) With that I thus dismiss'd him.
Blest Son, for now I dare pronounce thee blest,
Being thou'st powr'd thus out thy soul — The wolf!
The wolf! 'sfoot peace, we're in the noose:
We are betrai'd, yon's Meanwell and the Knight — —
Truly he is as good a man as any
I ever yet confess'd — — don't look that way — —
A very honest charitable man,
Full of sincerity, and true devotion.
Sr Tho . Patience it self would now turn furious,
Let's for some Officers.
Sha . Discover'd all!
Religion is unluckie to me.
Hear . Man!
Perfidious man! there is no trust in thee!
Slic . I never lik'd this Meanwell ; I did alwaies
See treachery writ in's forehead: I well hop'd
H'ad been in Prison with his wench.
Sha . Leave railing.
Along with me. There is left one way more;
The Cat may yet perhaps light on all foure.
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