La-writ. Do not perswade me gentle Monsieur Sampson,
I am a mortal man again, a Lawyer,
My martiall part I have put off.
Sam. Sweet Monsieur,
Let but our honours teach us.
La-writ. Monsieur Sampson,
My honourable friend, my valiant friend,
Be but so beaten, forward my brave Clients,
I am yours, and you are mine again, be but so thrasht,
Receive that Castigation with a cudgel.
Sam. Which calls upon us for a Reparation.
La-writ. I have, it cost me half a crown, I bear it
All over me, I bear it Monsieur Sampson;
The oyls, and the old woman that repairs to me,
To 'noint my beaten body.
Sam. It concerns you,
You have been swing'd.
La-writ. Let it concern thee too;
Goe and be beaten, speak scurvy words, as I did,
Speak to that Lion Lord, waken his anger,
And have a hundred Bastinado's, doe;
Three broken pates, thy teeth knockt out, do Sampson,
Thy valiant arms and leggs beaten to Poultesses,
Do silly Sampson, do.
1 Cly. You wrong the Gentleman,
To put him out of his right mind thus:
You wrong us, and our Causes.
La-writ. Down with him Gentlemen,
Turn him, and beat him, if he break our peace,
Then when thou hast been Lam'd, thy small guts perisht,
Then talk to me, before I scorn thy counsel,
Feel what I feel, and let my Lord repair thee.
Sam. And can the brave La-writ—
2 Cly. Tempt him no further,
Be warn'd and say no more.
La-writ. If thou doest, Sampson,
Thou seest my Mirmidons, I'le let 'em loose,
That in a moment—
Sam. I say nothing, Sir, but I could wish—
La-writ. They shall destroy thee wishing;
There's ne'r a man of these, but have lost ten causes,
Dearer then ten mens lives; tempt, and thou diest:
Goe home, and smile upon my Lord, thine Uncle,
Take Mony of the men thou mean'st to Cousin,
Drink Wine, and eat good meat, and live discreetly,
Talk little, 'tis an antidote against a beating;
Keep thy hand from thy sword, and from thy Laundress placket,
And thou wilt live long.
1 Cly. Give ear, and be instructed.
La-writ. I find I am wiser than a Justice of Peace now,
Give me the wisdom that's beaten into a man
That sticks still by him: art thou a new man?
Sam. Yes, yes,
Thy learned precepts have inchanted me.
La-writ. Goe my son Sampson, I have now begot thee,
I'le send thee causes; speak to thy Lord, and live,
And lay my share by, goe and live in peace,
Put on new suits, and shew fit for thy place;
That man neglects his living, is an Asse: [Exit Samp.
Farewel; come chearily boyes, about our business,
Now welcom tongue again, hang Swords.
1 Cly. Sweet Advocate. [Exeunt.
Enter Nurse, and Charlote.
Nur. I know not wench, they may call 'em what they will,
Outlawes, or thieves, but I am sure, to me
One was an honest man, he us'd me well,
What I did, 'tis no matter, he complain'd not.
Char. I must confess, there was one bold with me too,
Some coy thing would say rude, but 'tis no matter,
I was to pay a Waiting womans ransom,
And I have don't, and I would pay't again,
Were I ta'n to morrow.
Nur. Alas, there was no hurt,
If 't be a sin for such as live at hard meat,
And keep a long Lent, in the woods as they do,
To taste a little flesh.
Char. God help the Courtiers,
That lye at rack and manger.
Nur. I shall love
A thief the better for this while I live,
They are men of a charitable vocation,
And give where there is need, and with discretion,
And put a good speed penny in my purse,
That has been empty twenty years.
Char. Peace Nurse,
Farewel, and cry not rost meat, me thinks Cleremont
And my Lady Anabel are in one night,
Familiarly acquainted.
Nur. I observe it,
If she have got a penny too.
Enter Vertaign, Champernel, and Provost.
Charl. No more,
My Lord Monsieur Vertaigne, the provost too,
Haste and acquaint my Lady. [Ex. Nur. and Char.
Pro. Wonderous strange.
Vert. 'Tis true Sir, on my credit.
Cham. O mine honour.
Pro. I have been provost-Marshal twenty years,
And have trussed up a thousand of these rascals,
But so near Paris yet I never met with
One of that Brotherhood.
Cham. We to our cost have,
But will you search the wood?
Pro. It is beset,
They cannot scape us, nothing makes me wonder,
So much as having you within their power
They let you goe; it was a Courtesy,
That French thieves use not often, I much pity
The Gentle Ladies, yet I know not how,
I rather hope than fear.
Enter Dinant, Cleremont, Verdone, Beaupre, Lamira, Anabel, Charlote, Nurse.
Are these the prisoners?
Din. We were such.
Verd. Kill me not, excess of joy.
Cham. I see thou livest, but hast thou had no foul play?
Lam. No on my soul, my usage hath been noble,
Far from all violence.
Cham. How were you freed?
But kiss me first, we'l talk of that at leasure,
I am glad I have thee; Niece how you keep off,
As you knew me not?
Ana. Sir, I am where
I owe most duty.
Cler. 'Tis indeed most true Sir,
The man that should have been your bedfellow
Your Lordships bedfellow, that could not smell out
A Virgin of sixteen, that was your fool,
To make you merry, this poor simple fellow
Has met the maid again, and now she knows
He is a man.
Cham. How! is she dishonoured?
Cler. Not unless marriage be dishonourable,
Heaven is a witness of our happy contract,
And the next Priest we meet shall warrant it
To all the world: I lay with her in jeast,
'Tis turn'd to earnest now.
Cham. Is this true, Niece?
Din. Her blushing silence grants it; nay Sir storm not,
He is my friend, and I can make this good,
His birth and fortunes equal hers, your Lordship
Might have sought out a worse, we are all friends too,
All differences end thus. Now Sir, unless
You would raise new dissentions, make perfect
What is so well begun.
Vert. That were not manly.
Lam. Let me perswade you.
Cham. Well God give you joy,
She shall not come a Begger to you Sir.
For you Monsieur Dinant 'ere long I'le shew you
Another Niece, to this not much inferiour,
As you shall like proceed.
Din. I thank you Sir.
Cham. Back then to Paris: well that travel ends
That makes of deadly enemies perfect friends.
[Exeunt omnes.