Alph. No, no Sir.
Ped. Indeed he is.
Sanch. Where dare he be, but here Sir,
When men are wrong'd, and come for satisfactions.
Ped. It seems he has done none Sir; for his business
Clear of those cares, hath carried him for sometime
To Barcelona: if he had been guilty,
I know he would have stayd, and clear'd all difference
Either by free confession, or his sword.
Sanch. This must not be.
Ped. Sure as I live, it is Sir.
Alph. Sure, as we all live,
He's run away for ever: Barcelona!
Why? 'tis the key for Italy, from whence
He stole first hither.
Sanch. And having found his knaveries
Too gross to be forgiven, and too open,
He has found the same way back again: I believe too
The good grass Gentleman, for his own ease,
Has taken one o'th' Fillyes: Is not his stuff sold.
Alph. I fear his worships shoos too; to escape us,
I do not think he has a dish within doors,
A louse left of his linnage.
Ped. Ye are too wide Sir.