Lila. Nor you, Captaine.
Pont. No, to your trade againe, put off this case,
It may be the discouering what you were,
When your vnfortunate master tooke you vp, [75]
May moue compassion in your creditor.
Confesse the truth.
Exit Nouall se. Pont.
Lila. And now I thinke on’t better,
I will, brother, your hand, your hand, sweet brother.
I am of your sect, and my gallantry but a dreame,
Out of which these two fearefull apparitions [80]
Against my will haue wak’d me. This rich sword
Grew suddenly out of a taylors bodkin;
These hangers from my vailes and fees in Hell:
And where as now this beauer sits, full often
A thrifty cape compos’d of broad cloth lifts, [85]
Nere kin vnto the cushion where I sate.
Crosse-leg’d, and yet vngartred, hath beene seene,
Our breakefasts famous for the buttred loaues,
I haue with ioy bin oft acquainted with,
And therefore vse a conscience, though it be [90]
Forbidden in our hall towards other men,
To me that as I haue beene, will againe
Be of the brotherhood.
Offi. I know him now:
He was a prentice to Le Robe at Orleance.
Lila. And from thence brought by my young Lord, now dead, [95]
Vnto Dijon, and with him till this houre
Hath bin receiu’d here for a compleate Mounsieur.
Nor wonder at it: for but tythe our gallants,
Euen those of the first ranke, and you will finde
In euery ten, one: peraduenture two, [100]
That smell ranke of the dancing schoole, or fiddle,
The pantofle or pressing yron: but hereafter
Weele talke of this. I will surrender vp
My suites againe: there cannot be much losse,
’Tis but the turning of the lace, with ones [105]
Additions more you know of, and what wants
I will worke out.
Tayl. Then here our quarrell ends.
The gallant is turn’d Taylor, and all friends.
Exeunt.
Scaena 2.
Enter Romont, Baumont.