_M. Mol._ Pain of your lives, let none conceal a slave.
_Must._ Let every man look to his own conscience; I am sure mine shall
never hang me.
_Bend._ Thou speak'st as if thou wert privy to concealments; then thou
art an accomplice.
_Must._ Nay, if accomplices must suffer, it may go hard with me: but
here's the devil on't, there's a great man, and a holy man too,
concerned with me; now, if I confess, he'll be sure to escape between
his greatness and his holiness, and I shall be murdered, because of my
poverty and rascality.
_Muf._ [_Winking at him._]
Then, if thy silence save the great and holy,
'Tis sure thou shalt go straight to paradise.
_Must._ 'Tis a fine place, they say; but, doctor, I am not worthy
on't. I am contented with this homely world; 'tis good enough for such
a poor, rascally Mussulman, as I am; besides, I have learnt so much
good manners, doctor, as to let my betters be served before me.
_M. Mol._ Thou talk'st as if the Mufti were concerned.
_Must._ Your majesty may lay your soul on't. But, for my part, though
I am a plain fellow, yet I scorn to be tricked into paradise; I would
he should know it. The truth on't is, an't like you, his reverence
bought of me the flower of all the market: these--these are but
dogs-meat to them; and a round price he paid me, too, I'll say that
for him; but not enough for me to venture my neck for.
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