_Verd._ I'le rime to't, but provokt, the worst of Devils. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Monsieur_ Sampson, _and three Clients_.

_Samp._ I know Monsieur _La-writ_.

_1 Cly._ Would he knew himself, Sir.

_Samp._ He was a pretty Lawyer, a kind of pretty Lawyer, Of a kind of unable thing.

_2 Cly._ A fine Lawyer, Sir, And would have firk'd you up a business, And out of this Court into that.

_Samp._ Ye are too forward Not so fine my friends, something he could have done, But short short.

_1 Cly._ I know your worships favour, You are Nephew to the Judge, Sir.

_Samp._ It may be so, And something may be done, without trotting i'th' dirt, friends; It may be I can take him in his Chamber, And have an hours talk, it may be so, And tell him that in's ear; there are such courtesies; I will not say, I can.

_3 Cly._ We know you can, Sir.

_Sam._ Peradventure I, peradventure no: but where's _La-writ_?

Where's your sufficient Lawyer?

_1 Cly._ He's blown up, Sir.

_2 Cly._ Run mad and quarrels with the Dog he meets; He is no Lawyer of this world now.

_Sam._ Your reason?

Is he defunct? is he dead?

_2 Cly._ No he's not dead yet, Sir; But I would be loth to take a lease on's life for two hours: Alas, he is possest Sir, with the spirit of fighting And quarrels with all people; but how he came to it--

_Samp._ If he fight well and like a Gentleman, The man may fight, for 'tis a lawfull calling.

Look you my friends, I am a civil Gentleman, And my Lord my Uncle loves me.

_3 Cly._ We all know it, Sir.

_Sam._ I think he does, Sir, I have business too, much business, Turn you some forty or fifty Causes in a week; Yet when I get an hour of vacancie, I can fight too my friends, a little does well, I would be loth to learn to fight.

_1 Cly._ But and't please you Sir, His fighting has neglected all our business, We are undone, our causes cast away, Sir, His not appearance.

_Sam._ There he fought too long, A little and fight well, he fought too long indeed friends; But ne'r the less things must be as they may, And there be wayes--

_1 Cly._ We know, Sir, if you please--

_Sam._ Something I'le do: goe rally up your Causes.

_Enter_ La-writ, _and a_ Gentleman, _at the door_.

_2 Cly._ Now you may behold Sir, And be a witness, whether we lie or no.

_La-writ._ I'le meet you at the Ordinary, sweet Gentlemen, And if there be a wench or two--

_Gen._ We'll have 'em.

_La-writ._ No handling any Duells before I come, We'll have no going else, I hate a coward.

_Gent._ There shall be nothing done.

_La-writ._ Make all the quarrels You can devise before I come, and let's all fight, There is no sport else.

_Gent._ We'll see what may be done, Sir.

_1 Cly._ Ha? Monsieur _La-writ_.

_La-writ._ Baffled in way of business, My causes cast away, Judgement against us?

Why there it goes.

_2 Cly._ What shall we do the whilst Sir?

_La-wr._ Breed new dissentions, goe hang your selves 'Tis all one to me; I have a new trade of living.

_1 Cli._ Do you hear what he saies Sir?

_Sam._ The Gentleman speaks finely.

_La-wr._ Will any of you fight? Fighting's my occupation If you find your selves aggriev'd.

_Sam._ A compleat Gentleman.

_La-writ._ Avant thou buckram budget of pet.i.tions, Thou spittle of lame causes; I lament for thee, And till revenge be taken--

_Sam._ 'Tis most excellent.

_La-wr._ There, every man chuse his paper, and his place.

I'le answer ye all, I will neglect no mans business But he shall have satisfaction like a Gentleman, The Judge may do and not do, he's but a Monsieur.

_Sam._ You have nothing of mine in your bag, Sir.

_La-writ._ I know not Sir, But you may put any thing in, any fighting thing.

_Sam._ It is sufficient, you may hear hereafter.

_La-writ._ I rest your servant Sir.

_Sam._ No more words Gentlemen But follow me, no more words as you love me, The Gentleman's a n.o.ble Gentleman.

I shall do what I can, and then--

_Cli._ We thank you Sir. [_Ex._ Sam. _and_ Clients.