n the next street; and when that's done,
Go round my tradesmen and collect their bills,
And bring them to me at the inn.

_Ste_. The inn!

_Clif_. Yes; I go home no more. Why, what's the matter?
What has fallen out to make your eyes fill up?
You'll get another place. I'll certify
You're honest and industrious, and all
That a servant ought to be.

_Ste_. I see, Sir Thomas,
Some great misfortune has befallen you?

_Clif_. No!
I have health; I have strength; my reason, Stephen, and
A heart that's clear in truth, with trust in God.
No great disaster can befall the man
Who's still possessed of these! Good fellow, leave me.
What you would learn, and have a right to know,
I would not tell you now. Good Stephen, hence!
Mischance has fallen on me--but what of that?
Mischance has fallen on many a better man.
I prithee leave me. I grow sadder while
I see the eye with which you view my grief.
'Sdeath, they will out! I would have been a man,
Had you been less a kind and gentle one.
Now, as you love me, leave me.

_Ste_. Never master
So well deserved the love of him that served him.

[STEPHEN goes out.]

_Clif_. Misfortune liketh company; it seldom
Visits its friends alone. Ha! Master Walter,
And ruffled too. I'm in no mood for him.

[Enter MASTER WALTER.]

_Wal_. So, Sir--Sir Thomas Clifford! what with speed
And choler--I do gasp for want of breath.

_Clif_. Well, Master Walter?

_Wal_. You're a rash young man, sir;
Strong-headed and wrong-headed, and I fear, sir,
Not over delicate in that fine sense
Which men of honour pride themselves upon!

_Clif_. Well, Master Walter?

_Wal_. A young woman's heart, sir,
Is not a stone to carve a posy on!
Which knows not what is writ on't; which you may buy,
Exchange, or sell, sir, keep or give away, sir:
It is a richer--yet a poorer thing;
Priceless to him that owns and prizes it;
Worthless, when owned, not prized; which makes the man
That covets it, obtains it, and discards it--
A fool, if not a villain, sir.

_Clif_. Well, sir?

_Wal_. You never loved my ward, sir!

_Clif_. The bright Heavens
Bear witness that I did!

_Wal_. The bright Heavens, sir,
Bear not false witness. That you loved her not
Is clear--for had you loved her, you'd have plucked
Your heart from out your breast, ere cast her from your heart!
Old as I am, I know what passion is.
It is the summer's heat, sir, which in vain
We look for frost in. Ice, like you, sir,