Why, why?

FRAILTY.

Why, if your chain had so many Links, it cannot choose but come to light.

[Enter Nicholas.]

SIR G.o.dFREY.

Delusion! now, long Nicholas, where's my chain?

NICHOLAS.

Why, about your Neck, ist not, sir?

SIR G.o.dFREY.

About my neck, Varlet! My chain is lost.

Tis stole away, I'm robbed.

WIDDOW.

Nay, Brother, show your self a man.

NICHOLAS.

Aye, if it be lost or stole, if he would be patient, Mistress, I could bring him to a Cunning Kinsman of mine that would fetcht again with a Sesarara.

SIR G.o.dFREY.

Canst thou? I will be patient: say, where dwells he?

NICHOLAS.

Marry, he dwells now, Sir, where he would not dwell, and he could choose: in the Marshalsea, sir; but he's a exlent fellow if he were out; has traveled all the world o'er, he, and been in the seven and twenty Provinces; why, he would make it be fetcht, Sir, if twere rid a thousand mile out of town.

SIR G.o.dFREY.

An admirable fellow: what lies he for?

NICHOLAS.

Why, he did but rob a Steward of ten groats tother Night, as any man would ha done, and there he lies fort.

SIR G.o.dFREY.

I'll make his peace: a Trifle! I'll get his pardon, Beside a bountiful reward. I'll about it.

But see the Clerks, the Justice will do much.

I will about it straight: good sister, pardon me.

All will be well, I hope, and turn to good, The name of Conjurer has laid my blood.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. A street.

[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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s so much, when our doublets are b.u.t.toned 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.

RAVEN.

The best is, Sergeant, if he be a true Scholar, he wears no weapon, I think.

PUT.

No, no, he wears no weapon.

RAVEN.

Ma.s.s, I am right glad of that: 'tas put me in better heart.

Nay, if I clutch him once, let me alone to drag him if he be stiff-necked. I have been one of the six my self, that has dragged as tall men of their hands, when their weapons have been gone, as ever bastinadoed a Sergeant--I have done, I can tell you.

DOGSON.

Sergeant Puttock, Sergeant Puttock.

PUT.

Hoh.

DOGSON.

He's coming out single.

PUT.

Peace, peace, be not too greedy; let him play a little, let him play a litle: we'll jerk him up of a sudden. I ha fished in my time.

RAVEN.

Aye, and caught many a fool, Sergeant.