Four. The freedom of commerce increasing, after some little inconsiderable questions pour passer le temps, and so, he was pleased to offer me the courtesy of a glass of wine: I told him I very seldom drank, but, if he so pleased, I would do myself the honour to present him with a dish of meat at an eating-house hard by, where I had an interest.
Cour. Very well: I think this squire of thine, Beaugard, is as accomplished a person as any of the employment I ever saw.
Beau. Let the rogue go on.
Four. In short, we agreed and went together. As soon as we entered the room, "I am your most humble servant, sir," says he. "I am the meanest of your vassals, sir," said I. "I am very happy in lighting into the acquaintance of so worthy a gentleman as you appear to be, sir," said he again. "Worthy Sir Jolly,"—then came I upon him again on t'other side (for you must know by that time I had groped out his title), "I kiss your hands from the bottom of my heart, which I shall be always ready to lay at your feet."
Cour. Well, Fourbin, and what replied the knight then?
Four. Nothing, he had nothing to say; his sense was transported with admiration of my parts: so we sat down, and after some pause, he desired to know by what title he was to distinguish the person that had so highly honoured him.
Beau. That is as much as to say, sir, whose rascal you were.
Four. Sir, you may make as bold with your poor slave as you please.—I told him those that knew me well were pleased to call me the Chevalier Fourbin; that I was a cadet of the ancient family of the Fourbinois; and that I had had the honour of serving the great monarch of France in his wars in Flanders, where I contracted great familiarity and intimacy with a gallant officer of the English troops in that service, one Captain Beaugard.
Beau. Oh, sir, you did me too much honour. What a true-bred rogue's this!
Cour. Well, but the money, Fourbin, the money?