hillings in these Breeches, and the odd
groat, I take it, shall be yours, Sir, a mark to know a Knave by, pray
preserve it, do not displease more, but take it presently, now help me
off with my Boots.

_Hare._ We are no Grooms, Sir.

_Val._ For once you shall be, do it willingly, or by this hand I'le
make you.

_Bell._ To our own, Sir, we may apply our hands.

_Val._ There's your Hangers, you may deserve a strong pair, and a
girdle will hold you without buckles; now I am perfect, and now the
proudest of your worships tell me I am beholding to you.

_Fount._ No such matter.

_Val._ And take heed how you pity me, 'tis dangerous, exceeding
dangerous, to prate of pity; which are the poorer? you are now puppies;
I without you, or you without my knowledge? be Rogues, and so be gone,
be Rogues and reply not, for if you do--

_Bell._ Only thus much, and then we'll leave you: the Air is far
sharper than our anger, Sir, and these you may reserve to rail in
warmer.

_Hare._ Pray have a care, Sir, of your health. [_Ex. Lovers._

_Val._ Yes Hog-hounds, more than you can have of your wits; 'tis
cold, and I am very sensible, extreamly cold too, yet I will not off,
till I have shamed these Rascals; I have indured as ill heats as
another, and every way if one could perish my body, you'll bear the
blame on't; I am colder here, not a poor penny left.

_Enter_ Uncle _with a Bag_.

_Unc._ 'Thas taken rarely, and now he's flead he will be ruled.

_Lan._ To him, tew him, abuse him, and nip him close.

_Unc._. Why how now, Cousin, sunning your self this weather?

_Val._ As you see, Sir, in a hot fit, I thank my friends.

_Unc._ But Cousin, where are your Cloaths man? those are no
inheritance, your scruple may compound with those I take it, this is no
fashion, Cousin.

_Val._ Not much followed, I must confess; yet Uncle I determine to
try what may be done next Term.

_Lance._ How came you thus, Sir, for you are strangely moved.

_Val._ Rags, toys and trifles, fit only for those fools that first
possessed 'em, a[n]d to those Knaves they are rendred. Freemen, Uncle,
ought to appear like innocents, old _Adam_, a fair Fig-leaf sufficient.

_Unc._ Take me with you, were these your friends, that clear'd you
thus?

_Val._ Hang friends, and even reckonings that make friends.

_Unc._ I thought till now, there had been no such living, no such
purchase, for all the rest is labour, as a list of honourable friends;
do such men as