Beau. Have a care, Sir, we are all for the Captain.
Feth. As for that, Sir, we fear ye not, [d’ye see], were you Hercules and all his [Myrmidons]. [Draws, but gets behind.
Will. Fools, put up your Swords, Fools, and do not publish the Jest; your Money you shall have again, on condition you never pretend to be [wiser than your other Men], but modestly believe you may be cozen’d as well as your Neighbours. [The Guardian talking with Hunt and Shift and Giant this while.
Feth. La you, Ned, why shou’d Friends fall out?
Blunt. Cozen’d! it may be not, Sir; for look ye, Sir, the Essex Fool, the cozen’d dull Rogue can shew Moveables or so—nay, they are right too— [Shews his Jewels.
This is no Naples Adventure, Gentlemen, no [Copper Chains]; all substantial Diamonds, Pearls and Rubies— [Will. takes the Casket, and looks in it.
La Nu. Hah, do not I know that Casket, and those Jewels!
Feth. How the Pox came this Rogue by these?
Will. Hum, Edward, I confess you have redeem’d your Reputation, and shall hereafter pass for a Wit—by what good fortune came you by this Treasure?—what Lady—
Blunt. Lady, Sir! alas no, I’m a Fool, a Country Fop, an Ass, I; but that you may perceive your selves mistaken, Gentlemen, this is but an earnest of what’s to come, a small token of remembrance, or so—and yet I have no Charms, I; the fine Captain has all the Wit and Beauty—but thou’rt my Friend, and I’ll impart. [Brings out Petronella veil’d.