Ben Jonson - The Magnetick Lady. Act 4. Scene 3. lyrics

Bias, Interest, Compa**. Bias. 'Tis an Affront from you, Sir; you here brought me Unto my Ladies, and to woo a Wife, Which since is prov'd a crack'd Commodity: She hath broke Bulk too soon. Int. No fault of mine, If she be crack'd in pieces, or broke round: It was my Sister's Fault, that owns the House, Where she hath got her clap, makes all this noise. I keep her Portion safe, that is not scatter'd; The Moneys rattle not, nor are they thrown, To make a Muss yet 'mong the gamesom Suitors. Com. Can you endure that Flout, close Mr. Bias, And have been so bred in the politicks? The Injury is done you, and by him only: He lent you Imprest-money, and upraids it; Furnish'd you for the Wooing, and now waves you. Bias. That makes me to expostulate the Wrong So with him, and resent it as I do. Com. But do it home then. Bias. Sir, my Lord shall know it. Com. And all the Lords o' the Court too. Bias. What a Moath You are, Sir Interest! Int. Wherein, I entreat you, Sweet Mr. Bias? Com. To draw in young Statesmen, And Heirs of policy, into the Noose Of an infamous Matrimony. Bias. Yes, Infamous, quasi in communem famam: And Matrimony, quasi Matter of Money. Com. Learnedly urg'd, my cunning Mr. Bias. Bias. With his lewd, known, and prostituted Niece. Int. My known, and prostitute! how you mistake, And run upon a false ground, Mr. Bias! (Your lords will do me right.) Now she is prostitute, And that I know it, (please you understand me) I mean to keep the Portion in my Hands, And pay no Moneys. Com. Mark you that, Don Bias? And you shall still remain in Bonds to him, For wooing Furniture, and Imprest-Charges. Int. Good Mr. Compa**, for the Sums he has had Of me, I do acquit him; they are his own. Here, before you, I do release him. Com. Good! Bias. O Sir! Com. 'Slid, take it: I do witness it: He cannot hurl away his Money better. Int. He shall get so much, Sir, by my acquaintance, To be my Friend: and now report to his Lords As I deserve, no otherwise. Com. But well; And I will witness it, and to the value: Four hundred is the price, if I mistake not, Of your true Friend in Court. Take hands, you ha' bought him, And bought him cheap. Bias. I am his Worships Servant. Com. And you his Slave, Sir moath, seal'd and deliver'd. Ha' you not studied the Court-Complement? Here are a pair of Humours reconcil'd now, That Money held at distance, or their Thoughts, Baser than Money.