[_Exit_.
_Lop_.
Here's mony got with ease: here, spend that jovially,
And pray for the fool, the Founder.
_Die_.
Many more fools
I heartily pray may follow his example,
Lawyers, or Lubbers, or of what condition,
And many such sweet friends in _Nova Hispania_.
_Lop_.
It will do well; let 'em but send their monys,
Come from what quarter of the world, I care not,
I'le know 'em instantly; nay I'le be kin to 'em;
I cannot miss a man, that sends me mony:
Let him law there, long as his Duckets last, Boy,
I'le grace him, and prefer him.
_Die_.
I'le turn Trade, Master, and now live by the living,
Let the dead stink, 'tis a poor stinking Trade.
_Lop_.
If the young fool now
Should chance to chop upon his fair Wife, _Diego_?
_Die_.
And handle her Case, Master, that's a law point,
A point would make him start, and put on his Spectacles,
A hidden point, were worth the canvassing.
_Lop_.
Now surely, surely, I should love him, _Diego_,
And love him heartily: nay, I should love my self,
Or any thing that had but that good fortune,
For to say truth, the Lawyer is a dog-bolt,
An arrant worm: and though I call him worshipfull,
I wish him a canoniz'd Cuckold, _Diego_,
Now, if my youth do dub him--
_Die_.
He is too demure, Sir.
_Lop_.
If he do sting her home.
_Dieg_.
There's no such matter,
The woman was not born to so much blessedness,
He has no heat: study consumes his oyl, Master.
_Lop_.
Let's leave it to the will of Fate, and presently
Over a cup of lustie Sack, let's prophesie.
I am like a man that dreamt he was an Emperour,
Come _Diego_, hope, and whilst he lasts, we'll lay it on. [_Ex_.