ould bine me to you for ever, in my friend's
right; and I doubt not, but his desert shall more than answer my praise.

FAST. Why, an he had good clothes, I'd carry him to court with me to-morrow.

DELI. He shall not want for those, sir, if gold and the whole city will
furnish him.

FAST. You say well, sir: faith, signior Deliro, I am come to have you
play the alchemist with me, and change the species of my land into that
metal you talk of.

DELI. With all my heart, sir; what sum will serve you?

FAST. Faith, some three or four hundred.

DELI. Troth, sir, I have promised to meet a gentleman this morning in
Paul's, but upon my return I'll dispatch you.

FAST. I'll accompany you thither.

DELI. As you please, sir; but I go not thither directly.

FAST. 'Tis no matter, I have no other designment in hand, and therefore as
good go along.

DELI. I were as good have a quartain fever follow me now, for I shall
ne'er be rid of him. Bring me a cloak there, one. Still, upon his grace
at court, I am sure to be visited; I was a beast to give him any hope.
Well, would I were in, that I am out with him once, and -- Come, signior
Macilente, I must confer with you, as we go. Nay, dear wife, I beseech
thee, forsake these moods: look not like winter thus. Here, take my keys,
open my counting-houses, spread all my wealth before thee, choose any
object that delights thee: if thou wilt eat the spirit of gold, and drink
dissolved pearl in wine, 'tis for thee.

FAL. So, sir!

DELI. Nay, my sweet wife.

FAL. Good lord, how you are perfumed in your terms and all! pray you
leave us.

DELI. Come, gentlemen.

FAST. Adieu, sweet lady.
[EXEUNT ALL BUT FALLACE.

FAL. Ay, ay! let thy words ever sound in mine ears, and thy graces
disperse contentment through all my senses! O, how happy is that lady
above other ladies, that enjoys so absolute a gentleman to her servant! "A
countess gives him her hand to kiss": ah, foolish countess! he's a man
worthy, if a woman may speak of a man's worth, to kiss the lips of an
empress.

RE-ENTER FUNGOSO, WITH HIS TAILOR.
FUNG. What's master Fastidious gone, sister?

FAL. Ay, brother. -- He has a face like a cherubin!
[ASIDE.

FUNG. 'Ods me, what luck's this? I have fetch'd my tailor and all: which
way went he, sister, can you tell?