ACT V. SCENE VII. The same. The yard of the Inn.
[Lord Cobham comes out in his gown stealing.]
COBHAM. Harpoole, Harpoole, I hear a marvelous noise about the house: God warrant us, I fear we are pursued: what, Harpoole.
HARPOOLE.
[Within.] Who calls there?
COBHAM.
Tis I; dost thou not hear a noise about the house?
HARPOOLE. Yes, mary, do I:—zwounds, I can not find my hose; this Irish rascal that was lodged with me all night hath stolen my apparel, and has left me nothing but a lowsy mantle, and a pair of brogues. Get up, get up, and if the carrier and his wench be asleep, change you with them as he hath done with me, and see if we can escape.
[Exit lord Cobham.]
[A hoise again heard about the house, a pretty while; then enter the Constable, meeting Harpoole in the Irish man’s apparel.]
CONSTABLE. Stand close, here comes the Irish man that did the murther; by all tokens, this is he.
MAYOR.
And perceiving the house beset, would get away.
Stand, sirra.