  Now will I fall down in
a fit.  When the stranger runs to me, set you up a wail, and fall upon
your knees, seeming to weep; then cry out as all the devils of misery
were in your belly, and say, ‘Oh, sir, it is my poor afflicted brother,
and we be friendless; o’ God’s name cast through your merciful eyes one
pitiful look upon a sick, forsaken, and most miserable wretch; bestow
one little penny out of thy riches upon one smitten of God and ready
to perish!’--and mind you, keep you _on_ wailing, and abate not till we
bilk him of his penny, else shall you rue it.