Volume Vii Part 65 (2/2)

Rude anger made my tongue unmannerly: I cry him mercy. Well, but all this while I cannot find a Francis.--Francis, ho!

[_Enter_ WILL.]

WILL. Francis, ho! O, you call Francis now!

How have ye us'd my Nan? come, tell me, how.

PHIL. Thy Nan! what Nan?

WILL. Ay, what Nan, now! say, do you not seek a wench?

PHIL. Yes, I do.

WILL. Then, sir, that is she.

PHIL. Art not thou [he] I met withal before?

WILL. Yes, sir; and you did counterfeit before, And said to me you were not Sir Ralph Smith.

PHIL. No more I am not. I met Sir Ralph Smith; Even now he ask'd me, if I saw his man.

WILL. O, fine!

PHIL. Why, sirrah, thou art much deceived in me: Good faith, I am not he thou think'st I am.

WILL. What are ye, then?

PHIL. Why, one that seeks one Francis and a wench.

WILL. And Francis seeks one Philip and a wench.

PHIL. How canst thou tell?

WILL. I met him seeking Philip and a wench.

As I was seeking Sir Ralph and a wench.

PHIL. Why, then, I know the matter: we met cross, And so we miss'd; now here we find our loss.

Well, if thou wilt, we two will keep together, And so we shall meet right with one or other.

WILL. I am content: but, do you hear me, sir?

Did not Sir Ralph Smith ask ye for a wench?

PHIL. No, I promise thee, nor did he look For any but thyself, as I could guess.

WILL. Why, this is strange: but come, sir, let's away: I fear that we shall walk here, till't be day.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ BOY.

[BOY.] O G.o.d, I have run so far into the wind, that I have run myself out of wind! They say a man is near his end, when he lacks breath; and I am at the end of my race, for I can run no farther; then here I be in my breath-bed, not in my death-bed.[380]

_Enter_ COOMES.

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