_Clow._ No, nor conscience to be made of it; for since nature afore-hand cozen'd him of his wit, 'twas the less sin for us to cozen him of his Mony.
_Foro._ But these _Italians_ are more nimble-pated, we must have some new trick for them; I protest but that our Hostess's daughter is a sweet Lass, and draws great resort to'th' house, we were as good draw teeth a horseback.
_Clow._ I told 'em in the Market-place you could conjure, and no body would believe me: but ere long I will make 'em believe you can conjure with such a figuary.
_Foro._ What language shall's conjure in? high _Dutch_ I think, that's full i'th' mouth.
_Clow._ No, no, _Spanish_, that roars best; and will appear more dreadful.
_Foro._ Prethee tell me thy conceit thou hast to gull them.
_Clow._ No, no, I will not stael it; but my dear Jews-trump, for thou art but my instrument, I am the plotter, and when we have cozen'd 'em most titely, thou shalt steal away the Inn-keepers daughter, I'll provide my self of another moveable: and we will most purely retire our selves to _Geneva_.
_Bap._ Was ever expectation of so Noble A requital answered with such contumely! A wild _Numidian_ that had suck'd a Tigress, Would not have been so barbarous; Did he threat To cut thy hand off?
_Ment._ Yes Sir, and his slaves were ready to perform't.
_Bapt._ Noble youth, I wish thou wert not of his blood; thy pitty Gives me a hope thou art not.
_Ment._ You mistake Sir, The injury that followed from the son, Was worse than the fathers; he did first disarme And took from me a Jewel, which I prize Above my hand or life.
_Bap._ Take thy sword from thee? He stole it like a Thief rather, he could not I'th' Field deprive thee of it.
_Ment._ He took it from me, And sent me forth so thin, and so unmade up, As if I had been a Foot-boy.
_Bap._ O my fury! I must now ask thee forgiveness, that my rashness, Bred out of too much friendship, did expose thee To so eminent a danger; which I vow I will revenge on the whole Family: All the calamities of my whole life, My banishment from _Genoa_, my wifes loss Compar'd to this indignity, is nothing; Their Family shall repair't; it shall be to them Like a plague, when the Dog-star reigns most hot: An _Italian's_ revenge may pause, but's ne'er forgot. [_Exit._