Part 5 (1/2)

SHARP. But that's sufficient. 'Twere injustice to doubt the honour of Sir Joseph Wittoll.

SIR JO. O Lord, sir.

SHARP. You are above, I'm sure, a thought so low, to suffer me to lose what was ventured in your service; nay, 'twas in a manner paid down for your deliverance; 'twas so much lent you. And you scorn, I'll say that for you--

SIR JO. Nay, I'll say that for myself, with your leave, sir, I do scorn a dirty thing. But, agad, I'm a little out of pocket at present.

SHARP. Pshaw, you can't want a hundred pound. Your word is sufficient anywhere. 'Tis but borrowing so much dirt. You have large acres, and can soon repay it. Money is but dirt, Sir Joseph--mere dirt.

SIR JO. But, I profess, 'tis a dirt I have washed my hands of at present; I have laid it all out upon my Back.

SHARP. Are you so extravagant in clothes, Sir Joseph?

SIR JO. Ha, ha, ha, a very good jest, I profess, ha, ha, ha, a very good jest, and I did not know that I had said it, and that's a better jest than t'other. 'Tis a sign you and I ha'n't been long acquainted; you have lost a good jest for want of knowing me--I only mean a friend of mine whom I call my Back; he sticks as close to me, and follows me through all dangers--he is indeed back, breast, and head-piece, as it were, to me. Agad, he's a brave fellow. Pauh, I am quite another thing when I am with him: I don't fear the devil (bless us) almost if he be by.

Ah! had he been with me last night--

SHARP. If he had, sir, what then? he could have done no more, nor perhaps have suffered so much. Had he a hundred pound to lose?

[_Angrily_.]

SIR JO. O Lord, sir, by no means, but I might have saved a hundred pound: I meant innocently, as I hope to be saved, sir (a d.a.m.ned hot fellow), only, as I was saying, I let him have all my ready money to redeem his great sword from limbo. But, sir, I have a letter of credit to Alderman Fondlewife, as far as two hundred pound, and this afternoon you shall see I am a person, such a one as you would wish to have met with--

SHARP. That you are, I'll be sworn. [_Aside_.] Why, that's great and like yourself.

SCENE II.

[_To them_] CAPTAIN BLUFFE.

SIR JO. Oh, here a' comes--Ay, my Hector of Troy, welcome, my bully, my Back; agad, my heart has gone a pit pat for thee.

BLUFF. How now, my young knight? Not for fear, I hope; he that knows me must be a stranger to fear.

SIR JO. Nay, agad, I hate fear ever since I had like to have died of a fright. But--

BLUFF. But? Look you here, boy, here's your antidote, here's your Jesuits' powder for a shaking fit. But who hast thou got with thee? is he of mettle? [_Laying his hand upon his sword_.]

SIR JO. Ay, bully, a devilish smart fellow: 'a will fight like a c.o.c.k.

BLUFF. Say you so? Then I honour him. But has he been abroad? for every c.o.c.k will fight upon his own dunghill.

SIR JO. I don't know, but I'll present you--

BLUFF. I'll recommend myself. Sir, I honour you; I understand you love fighting, I reverence a man that loves fighting. Sir, I kiss your hilts.

SHARP. Sir, your servant, but you are misinformed, for, unless it be to serve my particular friend, as Sir Joseph here, my country, or my religion, or in some very justifiable cause, I'm not for it.

BLUFF. O Lord, I beg your pardon, sir, I find you are not of my palate: you can't relish a dish of fighting without sweet sauce. Now, I think fighting for fighting sake's sufficient cause; fighting to me's religion and the laws.