_Lance._ Next time we meet him cracking of nuts, with half a cloak
about him, for all means are cut off, or borrowing sixpence, to shew his
bounty in the pottage Ordinary?

_Fran._ Which way went he?

_Lance._ Pox, why should you ask after him, you have been trimm'd
already, let him take his fortune, [he] spun it out himself, Sir,
there's no pitie.

_Unc._ Besides some good to you now, from this miserie.

_Fran._ I rise upon his ruines! fie, fie, Uncle, fie honest
_Lance._ Those Gentlemen were base people, that could so soon take
fire to his destruction.

_Unc._ You are a fool, you are a fool, a young man.

_Enter_ Valentine.

_Val._ Morrow Uncle, morrow _Frank_, sweet _Frank_, and
how, and how d'ee, think now, how shew matters? morrow Bandog.

_Unc._ How?

_Fran._ Is this man naked, forsaken of his friends?

_Val._ Th'art handsom, _Frank_, a pretty Gentleman, i'faith
thou lookest well, and yet here may be those that look as handsom.