Lop.

     Are ye not weary?

     Die.

     Never of well-doing.

     Bar.

     These are mad Legacies.

     Die.

     They were got as madly;
     My Sheep, and Oxen, and my moveables,
     My Plate, and Jewels, and five hundred Acres;
     I have no heirs.

     Bar.

     This cannot be, ’tis monstrous.

     Die.

     Three Ships at Sea too.

     Bar.

     You have made me full Executor?

     Die.

     Full, full, and total, would I had more to give ye,
     But these may serve an honest mind.

     Bar.

     Ye say true,
     A very honest mind, and make it rich too;
     Rich, wondrous rich, but where shall I raise these moneys,
     About your house?  I see no such great promises;
     Where shall I find these sums?

     Die.

     Even where you please, Sir,
     You are wise and provident, and know business,
     Ev’n raise ’em where you shall think good, I am reasonable.

     Bar.

     Think good? will that raise thousands? 
     What do you make me?

     Die.

     You have sworn to see it done, that’s all my comfort.

     Bar.

     Where I please? this is pack’d sure to disgrace me.

     Die.

     Ye are just, and honest, and I know you will do it,
     Ev’n where you please, for you know where the wealth is.

     Bar.

     I am abused, betrayed, I am laugh’d at, scorn’d,
     Baffl’d, and boared, it seems.

     Ars.

     No, no, ye are fooled.

     Lop.

     Most finely fooled, and handsomely, and neatly,
     Such cunning Masters must be fool’d sometimes, Sir,
     And have their Worships noses wiped, ’tis healthful,
     We are but quit:  you fool us of our moneys
     In every Cause, in every Quiddit wipe us.

     Die.

     Ha, ha, ha, ha, some more drink, for my heart, Gentlemen. 
     This merry Lawyer—­ha, ha, ha, ha, this Scholar—­
     I think this fit will cure me:  this Executor—­
     I shall laugh out my Lungs.

     Bar.

     This is derision above sufferance, villany
     Plotted and set against me.

     Die.

     Faith ’tis Knavery,
     In troth I must confess, thou art fool’d indeed, Lawyer.

     Mil.

     Did you think, had this man been rich—­

     Bar.

     ’Tis well, Sir.

     Mil.

     He would have chosen such a Wolf, a Canker,
     A Maggot-pate, to be his whole Executor?