_Unc._ This is madness to be a wilful begger.

_Val._ I am mad then, and so I mean to be, will that content you?
How bravely now I live, how jocund, how near the first inheritance,
without fears, how free from title-troubles!

_Unc._ And from means too.

_Val._ Means? why all good men's my means; my wit's my Plow, the
Town's my stock, Tavern's my standing-house, and all the world knows
there's no want; all Gentlemen that love Society, love me; all Purses
that wit and pleasure opens, are my Tenants; every mans Cloaths fit me,
the next fair lodging is but my next remove, and when I please to be
more eminent, and take the Air, a piece is levied, and a Coach prepared,
and I go I care not whither, what need state here?

_Unc._ But say these means were honest, will they last, Sir?

_Val._ Far longer than your jerkin, and wear fairer, should I take
ought of you, 'tis true, I beg'd now, or which is worse than that, I
stole a kindness, and which is worst of all, I lost my way in't; your
mind's enclosed, nothing lies open nobly, your very thoughts are Hinds
that work on nothing but daily sweat and trouble: were my way so full of
dirt as this, 'tis true I'd shift it; are my acquaintance Grasiers? but
Sir, know, no man that I am allied to, in my living, but makes it equal,
whether his own use, or my necessity pull first, nor is this forc'd, but
the meer quality and poisure of goodness, and do you think I venture
nothing equal?

_Unc._ You pose me Cousin.