MARIA. For which ten thousand blisters scald your tongue! [Aside]

THOMAS. Who are resolv'd (the task howe'er ungrateful)
Quickly to lay his desp'rate state before him.

MARIA. But pray, why should not we as well as others,
Avail ourselves of something, whilst all's going?

THOMAS. Think'st thou to tempt me by a thought so vile?
No; I defy ev'n Envy's cankering tongue
To brand me with the name of faithless steward
Still steady to my trust, nor love, nor fear,
Shall reason from my soul, its inbred honesty.
What then would be the transport of the thought,
That I, from wreck had sav'd this shatter'd bark,
Though poverty and want were my reward!

MARIA. I see you are as obstinate as usual,
And still persist in your old-fashion'd ravings.
Does not experience daily prove that wealth
Alone gives honour; poverty disgrace?

THOMAS. All this concerns this transient world alone;
Nor is it worth a single moment's thought.
A slender pittance, earn'd by honest industry,
Surpasses mines of wealth acquir'd by fraud.

MARIA. It cannot sure be wrong to make reprisals!
Hath she not got in loan from us our earnings
From time to time, nor heeds our pressing calls?