Ben Jonson - A Tale of a Tub ACT 4. SCENE 3. lyrics

Tub, Hilts. Tub. Make haste then: we will wait here thy re- turn. This luck unlook'd for, hath reviv'd my hopes, Which were opprest with a dark melancholy. In happy time, we linger'd on the way, To meet these Summons of a better sound, Which are the Essence of my Soul's Content. Hil. This heartless fellow; shame to Serving-men; Stain of all Liveries; what Fear makes him do! How sordid, wretched, and unworthy things; Betray his Masters Secrets, ope' the Closet Of his Devices, force the foolish Justice, Make way for your Love, plotting of his own: Like him that digs a Trap, to catch another, And falls into 't himself! Tub. So wou'd I have it; And hope 'twill prove a Jest to twit the Justice with. Hil. But that this poor white-liver'd Rogue should do't? And meerly out of fear? Tub. And hope of Money, Hilts. A valiant Man will nibble at that Bait. Hil. Who, but a Fool, will refuse Money proffer'd? Tub. And sent by so good chance. Pray Heaven he speed. Hil. If he come empty-handed, let him count To go back empty-headed; I'll not leave him So much of Brain in's Pate, with Pepper and Vinegar, To be serv'd in for Sawce to a Calves Head. Tub. Thou serv'st him rightly, Hilts. Hil. I'll seal as much With my Hand, as I dare say now with my Tongue; But if you get the La** from Dargison, What will you do with her? Tub. We'll think o' that When once we have her in possession, Governour.