Do the fair offices of a man! you stand,
As you were readier to depart than he.
[KNOCKING WITHIN.]
Who's there? my lord her brother is come.

MAM. Ha, Lungs!

FACE. His coach is at the door. Avoid his sight,
For he's as furious as his sister's mad.

MAM. Alas!

FACE. My brain is quite undone with the fume, sir,
I ne'er must hope to be mine own man again.

MAM. Is all lost, Lungs? will nothing be preserv'd
Of all our cost?

FACE. Faith, very little, sir;
A peck of coals or so, which is cold comfort, sir.

MAM. O, my voluptuous mind! I am justly punish'd.

FACE. And so am I, sir.

MAM. Cast from all my hopes--

FACE. Nay, certainties, sir.

MAM. By mine own base affections.

SUB [SEEMING TO COME TO HIMSELF].
O, the curst fruits of vice and lust!

MAM. Good father,
It was my sin. Forgive it.

SUB. Hangs my roof
Over us still, and will not fall, O justice,
Upon us, for this wicked man!

FACE. Nay, look, sir,
You grieve him now with staying in his sight:
Good sir, the nobleman will come too, and take you,
And that may breed a tragedy.

MAM. I'll go.

FACE. Ay, and repent at home, sir. It may be,
For some good penance you may have it yet;
A hundred pound to the box at Bethlem--

MAM. Yes.

FACE. For the restoring such as--have their wits.

MAM. I'll do't.

FACE. I'll send one to you to receive it.

MAM. Do.
Is no projection left?

FACE. All flown, or stinks, sir.

MAM. Will nought be sav'd that's good for med'cine,
think'st thou?

FACE. I cannot tell, sir. There will be perhaps,
Something about the scraping of the shards,
Will cure the itch,--though not your itch of mind, sir.
[ASIDE.]
It shall be saved for you, and sent home. Good sir,
This way, for fear the lord should meet you.

[EXIT MAMMON.]

SUB [RAISING HIS HEAD]. Face!

FACE. Ay.

SUB. Is he gone?

FACE. Yes, and as heavily
As all the gold he hoped for were in's blood.
Let us be light though.

SUB [LEAPING UP]. Ay, as balls, and bound
And hit our heads against the roof for joy:
There's so much of our care now cast away.

FACE. Now to our don.

SUB. Yes, your young widow by this time
Is made a countess, Face; she has been in travail
Of a young heir for you.

FACE. Good sir.

SUB. Off with your case,
And greet her kindly, as a bridegroom should,
After these common hazards.