_Beaup._ Yield up your Sword then.

_Cler._ Yield my Sword? that's Hebrew; I'le be first cut a p[iec]es; hold but a while, I'le take the next that comes.

_Enter an old_ Gentleman.

You are an old Gentleman?

_Gent._ Yes indeed am I, Sir.

_Cler._ And wear no Sword?

_Gent._ I need none, Sir.

_Cler._ I would you did, and had one; I want now such a foolish courtesie.

You see these Gentlemen?

_Gent._ You want a second.

In good Faith Sir, I was never handsom at it, I would you had my Son, but he's in _Italy_, A proper Gentleman; you may do well gallants If your quarrel be not capital, to have more mercy, The Gentleman may do his Country--

_Cler._ Now I beseech you, Sir, If you dare not fight, do not stay to beg my pardon.

There lies your way.

_Gent._ Good morrow Gentlemen. [_Exit._

_Verd._ You see your fortune, You had better yield your Sword.

_Cler._ Pray ye stay a little.

_Enter two_ Gentlemen.

Upon mine honestie, you shall be fought with; Well, _Dinant_, well, these wear swords and seem brave fellows.

As you are Gentlemen, one of you supply me.

I want a Second now to meet these gallants, You know what honour is.

_1 Gent._ Sir you must pardon us, We goe about the same work, you are ready for; And must fight presently, else we were your servants.

_2 Gent._ G.o.d speed you, and good day. [_Exit_ Gent.

_Cler._ Am I thus Colted?

_Beaup._ Come either yield--

_Cler._ As you are honest Gentlemen, Stay but the next, and then I'le take my fortune, And if I fight not like a man--Fy _Dinant_, Cold now and treacherous.

_Enter Monsieur_ La-writ, _within_.

_La-Writ._ I understand your causes.

Yours about corn, yours about pins and gla.s.ses, Will you make me mad, have I not all the parcells?

And his Pet.i.tion too, about Bell-founding?

Send in your witnesses, what will you have me do?

Will you have me break my heart? my brains are melted; And tell your Master, as I am a Gentleman, His Cause shall be the first, commend me to your Mistris, And tell her, if there be an extraordinary feather, And tall enough for her--I shall dispatch you too, I know your cause, for transporting of Farthingales Trouble me no more, I say again to you, No more vexation: bid my wife send me some puddings; I have a Cause to run through, requires puddings, Puddings enough. Farewel.

_Cler._ G.o.d speed you, Sir.

_Beaup._ Would he would take this fellow.

_Verd._ A rare Youth.

_Cler._ If you be not hastie, Sir.

_La-writ._ Yes, I am hastie, Exceeding hastie, Sir, I am going to the Parliament, You understand this bag, if you have any business Depending there, be short, and let me hear it, And pay your Fees.

_Cler._ 'Faith, Sir, I have a business, But it depends upon no Parliament.

_La-writ._ I have no skill in't then.

_Cler._ I must desire you, 'Tis a Sword matter, Sir.

_La-writ._ I am no Cutler, I am an Advocate, Sir.

_Beaup._ How the thing looks?

_Verd._ When he brings him to fight.

_Cler._ Be not so hastie, You wear a good Sword.

_La-writ._ I know not that, I never drew it yet, or whether it be a Sword--

_Cler._ I must entreat you try, Sir, and bear a part Against these Gentlemen, I want a second; Ye seem a man, and 'tis a n.o.ble office.

_La-writ._ I am a Lawyer, Sir, I am no fighter.

_Cler._ You that breed quarels, Sir, know best to satisfie.

_Beaup._ This is some sport yet.

_Verd._ If this fellow should fight.

_La-writ._ And for any thing I know, I am an arrant coward, Do not trust me, I think I am a coward.

_Cler._ Try, try, you are mistaken: walk on Gentlemen, The man shall follow presently.

_La-writ._ Are ye mad Gentleman?

My business is within this half hour.

_Cler._ That's all one, We'll dispatch within this quarter, there in that bottom, 'Tis most convenient Gentlemen.

_Beaup._ Well, we'll wait, Sir.