Bob. Your Son's gone too,
What should become of him?
Alv. Come of him, what will:
Now he dares fight, I care not: I'll to bed,
Look to your prisoners Alguazier. [Exit with Boba.
Alg. All's clear'd:
Droop not for one disaster: let us hug,
And triumph in our knaveries.
Assist. This confirms
What was reported of him.
Met. 'Twas done bravely.
Alg. I must a little glory in the means
We Officers have, to play the Knaves, and safely:
How we break through the toyles, pitch'd by the Law,
Yet hang up them that are far less delinquents:
A simple shopkeeper's carted for a bawd
For lodging (though unwittingly) a smock-Gamster:
Where, with rewards, and credit I have kept
Malroda in my house, as in a cloyster,
Without taint, or suspition.
Pach. But suppose
The Governor should know't?
Alg. He? good Gentleman,
Let him perplex himself with prying into
The measures in the market, and th'abuses
The day stands guilty of: the pillage of the night
Is only mine, mine own fee simple;
Which you shall hold from me, tenants at will,
And pay no rent for't.
Pach. Admirable Landlord.
Alg. Now we'll go search the Taverns, commit such
As we find drinking: and be drunk our selves
With what we take from them: these silly wretches
Whom I for form sake only have brought hither
Shall watch without, and guard us.