FOR.  Vanity! [From a window.

VAN.  Madam.

FOR.  Is this roister gone?

VAN.  Yea, madam, he is gone.

FOR.  Then get thee anon,
And cause my attendants to come away,
For here as now I will no longer stay,
But prosecute this foe of mine so fast
By mischiefs all I may, that at the last
He shall arrive unto a wretched end,
And with repentance learn how to offend
A goddess of my state and dignity.

VAN.  Lady, to do your will I hasten willingly.
                                [VANITY exit.

    FORTUNE comes down.

FOR.  Dame Fortune’s power, her most exceeding might,
Is known by this as an undoubted thing: 
Since here most plainly hath appear’d in sight,
How all the world doth hang upon her wing,
How high and low, of all states and degrees,
Do rise and fall again, as she decrees. 
Then let not Virtue think it scorn to yield
To Fortune, chief of power, chief sovereignty: 
Sith Fortune here by proof hath won the field,
Subdu’d her foes, and got the victory: 
For as she list to favour, else to frown,
She hoisteth up, or headlong hurleth down.

    [Enter VANITY again.][403]

VAN.  Madam, here are your vassals ready prest,
To do the thing that Fortune liketh best.

FOR.  Well, then, come on to witness this our victory;
Depart we hence with sound of fame triumphantly.

[Cries of Reverence, due reverence!

ACT V., SCENE I.

    Enter PRODIGALITY, MONEY, TOSS, DICER.

PROD. [to MONEY.] Come on, my bulchin;[404] come on, my fat ox:[405]
Come, porkling, come on; come, pretty twattox.[406]
Why, will it not be? yet faster, a cur’sy![407]
This gentleman of late is waxen so pursy,
As at every land’s-end he seeketh to rest him. 
How think ye? hath not Tenacity trimly dress’d him?

MON.  Prodigality, if thou lovest me, let us here stay: 
For sure I can do no more than I may. 
I am out of breath, as weary as a dog.
                      [He falls down upon his elbow.

TOSS.  A luskish lubber, as fat as a hog!

PROD.  Come up, gentle Money; we may not here stay.

MON.  I must needs, Prodigality, there is no nay;
For if I should stir me one inch from the ground,
I think I shall die, sure, or fall in a sound.[408]

PROD.  Then must you be drawn.

MON.  Drawn or hang’d, all is one: 
For I cannot stir me; my breath is clean gone.

PROD.  How like ye this grossum corpus, so mightily grown?

TOSS.  I like him the better, that he is your own.

DICER.  A more monstrous beast, a beast more unwieldy,
Since first I was born, yet[409] never beheld I.

PROD.  Indeed, the whoreson is waxen somewhat too fat;
But we will find medicines to remedy that.