SER.  But he says well, sir.

BUT.  Got me up to the top of that tree:  the tree (if it could speak) would bear me witness, that there I might see which way the knaves took, then to tell you of it, and you right worshipfully to send hue and[401] cry after them.

HAR.  Was it so?

BUT.  Nay, ’twas so, sir.

HAR.  Nay, then, I tell thee they took into this wood.

BUT.  And I tell thee (setting thy worship’s knighthood aside) he lies in his throat that says so:  had not one of them a white frock? did they not bind your worship’s knighthood by the thumbs? then faggoted you and the fool your man back to back.

MAN.  He says true.

BUT.  Why, then, so truly came not they into this wood, but took over the lawns, and left Winnowe steeple on the left hand.

HAR.  It may be so.  By this they are out of reach;
Well, farewell it.

BUT.  Ride with more men, good knight.

HAR.  It shall teach me wit.

[Exit.  HARCOP with followers.

BUT.  So, if this be not played a weapon beyond a scholar’s prize, let me be hissed at.  Now to the next.  Come out, you hedgehogs!

THOM.  O butler! thou deserv’st to be chronicled for this.

BUT.  Do not belie me, if I had any right, I deserve to be hanged for’t. 
But come, down with your dust, our morning’s purchase.[402]

THOM.  Here ’tis; thou hast played well; thou deserv’st two shares in it.

BUT.  Three hundred pound! a pretty breakfast:  many a man works hard all his days, and never sees half the money.  But come, though it be badly got, it shall be better bestowed.  But do ye hear, gallants?  I have not taught you this trade to get your livings by.  Use it not; for if you do, though I ’scaped by the nut-tree, be sure you’ll speed by the rope.  But for your pains at this time, there’s a hundred pounds for you; how you shall bestow it, I’ll give you instructions.  But do you hear? look ye, go not to your gills, your punks, and your cock-tricks with it.  If I hear you do, as I am an honest thief, though I helped you now out of the briars, I’ll be a means yet to help you to the gallows.  How the rest shall be employed, I have determined, and by the way I’ll make you acquainted with it.  To steal is bad, but taken, where is store; The fault’s the less, being done to help the poor.

[Exeunt.

Enter WENTLOE, BARTLEY, and ILFORD with a letter in his hand.

ILF.  Sure, I have said my prayers, and lived virtuously o’ late, that this good fortune’s befallen me.  Look, gallants, I am sent for to come down to my father’s burial.

WEN.  But dost mean to go?

ILF.  Troth, no; I’ll go down to take possession of his land:  let the country bury him, and they will.  I’ll stay here a while, to save charge at his funeral.

BAR.  And how dost feel thyself, Frank, now thy father is dead?