[Enter two servants with Yeoman Dogson to arrest the Scholar,
George Pye-board.]
PUT. His Hostess where he lies will trust him no longer: she has feed me to arrest him; and if you will accompany me, because I know not of what Nature the Scholar is, whether desperate or swift, you shall share with me, Servant Raven- shaw. I have the good Angell to arrest him.
RAVEN. Troth, I’ll take part with thee, then, Sergeant, not for the sake of the money so much, as for the hate I bear to a Scholar: why, Sergeant, tis Natural in us, you know, to hate Scholars, natural: besides, the will publish our imperfections, Knaveries, and Convayances upon Scaffolds and Stages.
PUT. Aye, and spitefully, too; troth, I have wondered how the slaves could see into our breasts so much, when our doublets are buttoned with Pewter.
RAVEN.
Aye, and so close without yielding; oh, they’re parlous
fellows, they will search more with their wits than a
Constable with all his officers.
PUT.
Whist, whist, whist! Yeoman Dogson Yeoman Dogson.
DOGSON.
Ha, what says Sergeant?
PUT.
Is he in the Pothecaries shop still?
DOGSON.
Aye, aye.
PUT.
Have an eye, have an eye.