Duke. You ha’ bought stol’n goods.
Cand. So they do say, my lord,
Yet bought I them upon a gentleman’s word,
And I imagine now, as I thought then,
That there be thieves, but no thieves, gentlemen.
Hip. Your credit’s cracked, being here.
Cand. No more than gold
Being cracked, which does his estimation hold.
I was in Bedlam once, but was I mad?
They made me pledge whores’ healths, but am I bad
Because I’m with bad people?
Duke. Well, stand by;
If you take wrong, we’ll cure the injury.
Re-enter Constable, after him Bots, then two Beadles, one with hemp, the other with a beetle.[315]
Duke. Stay, stay, what’s he? a prisoner?
Const. Yes, my lord.
Hip. He seems a soldier?
Bots. I am what I seem, sir, one of fortune’s bastards, a soldier and a gentleman, and am brought in here with master constable’s band of billmen, because they face me down that I live, like those that keep bowling alleys, by the sins of the people, in being a squire of the body.