Will. Truly at the burial of one Generosity!

Arth. And what manner of person was he?

Will. A fool in this world, but an angel of light in the next; if the word of God be true, which I remember to have heard in my childhood in the church there.

Arth. And how was he buried?

Will. About the setting of the sun, when he had no more to give.  I saw none in the garb of mourning, though many wore long faces, because their gain was stopped.

Arth. And what wrote they on his tomb?

Will. Other names than his own.  Extravagance, folly, imprudence, were the best terms there.  One whom he had released from gaol, carved madness with a flint stone.  There was but one would have painted his true name, but his tears defaced it—­a humble dependent, who had been faithful to him, but whom he regarded not, being accustomed to his services.

Arth. Out! rogue!  I have humoured thee too long, leave thy rascal allegory.  Hast seen my brother?

Will. Ay, and thy cousin.  She is a rare girl, and remembereth thee well.  Thy brother is not attached to thee.  He will give thee five hundred pounds if thou wilt swear to quit England for ever.  He abuseth thee finely, saith thou art a debauched vagabond, which is an insult to me thy serving companion, whom he threatened with the stocks.  Wilt thou not slay him?

Arth. O monstrous!  Can it be?  Fool that I have been.  My father, thou wert right, indeed!

Will. Thy cousin would see thee.  She is miserable about something, and will be here presently.

Arth. I will wither him with my reproaches.

Will. You have bad stuff to deal with.  He will not become good suddenly, as in some stage-plays.  You shall not frown him into a virtuous act.  Nevertheless, abuse him, an ’twill do thee good.  Look you, dear master, I will describe him.  He hath a neat and cheerful aspect, and talketh very smoothly; nay, for a time he shall agree with everybody, that you shall think him the most good-natured fellow alive; he shall be as benevolent as a lawyer nursing his leg, whilst he listens to the tale of him whom his client oppresseth, and you shall win him just as easily.  Let the question of gain put him in action, and the devil inside shall jump out, like an ape stirred up to malice.  He affects, too, a vulgar frankness, which is often the mask of selfishness, as a man who helps himself first at table with a “ha! ha!” in a facetious manner, a jocose greediness, which is most actual, real earnest within.

Arth. Alas!  If this be true, what chance have I? for such a one as thou describest would call charity herself a cheat, and deem the emotion of an angel morbid generosity.

Will. Bless you, he hath reasons! he would refuse tenpence to a starving wretch, because he owed ten pounds to his shoemaker, though he had ten thousand in his coffers at home.  Yet would he still owe the ten pounds.