_Stukely_. So runs the world, Bates. Fools are the natural prey of
knaves; nature designed them so, when she made lambs for wolves. The
laws that fear and policy have framed, nature disclaims: she knows
but two; and those are force and cunning. The nobler law is force;
but then there's danger in't; while cunning, like a skilful miner,
works safely and unseen.

_Bat._ And therefore wisely. Force must have nerves and sinews;
cunning wants neither. The dwarf that has it, shall trip the giant's
heels up.

_Stu._ And bind him to the ground. Why, we'll erect a shrine for
nature, and be her oracles. Conscience is weakness; fear made, and
fear maintains it. The dread of shame, inward reproaches, and
fictitious burnings, swell out the phantom. Nature knows none of
this; Her laws are freedom.

_Bat._ Sound doctrine, and well delivered!

_Stu._ We are sincere too, and practice what we teach. Let the grave
pedant say as much--But now to business. The jewels are disposed of;
and Beverley again worth money. He waits to count his gold out, and
then comes hither. If my design succeeds, this night we finish with
him. Go to your lodgings, and be busy. You understand conveyances,
and can make ruin sure.

_Bat._ Better stop here. The sale of this reversion may be talked
of; there's danger in't.

_Stu._ No; 'tis the mark I aim at. We'll thrive, and laugh. You are