And we have our purpose, beshrew me, if I cared.

TYRANNY.
Saw you ever the like of this doubting dolt?

[HYP. Not I the like of such a cutthroat colt.]

It grieves me to hear how faint-hearted he is. [_Aside_.
A little would cause me to kill thee, thou ass-colt.
See, see, for woe he is like for to piss:
To give an attempt what a fellow were this?
But this is the good that cometh of Covetousness:
He liveth alway in fear to lose his riches.
Again, mark how he regardeth the death of his friend:
So he hath his purpose, he cares for no mo:
A perfect pattern of a covetous mind,
Which neither esteemeth his friend nor his foe,
But rather, Avarice, might I have said so,
Who, if he were gone, myself could defend,
Where thou by his absence wert soon at an end.

[_Exeunt_.



ACT II., SCENE 3.


HYPOCRISY.
O loving Father and merciful God!