Part 12 (1/2)

_Sam._ Not a word to disturb him, he's a Gentleman.

_La-writ._ No cause go o' my side? the judge cast all?

And because I was honourably employed in action, And not appear'd, p.r.o.nounce? 'tis very well, 'Tis well faith, 'tis well, Judge.

_Enter_ Cleremont.

_Cler._ Who have we here?

My little furious Lawyer?

_La-writ._ I say 'tis well, But mark the end.

_Cler._ How he is metamorphos'd!

Nothing of Lawyer left, not a bit of buckram, No solliciting face now, This is no simple conversion.

Your servant Sir, and Friend.

_La-writ._ You come in time, Sir,

_Cler._ The happier man, to be at your command then.

_La-writ._ You may wonder to see me thus; but that's all one, Time shall declare; 'tis true I was a Lawyer, But I have mew'd that coat, I hate a Lawyer, I talk'd much in the Court, now I hate talking, I did you the office of a man.

_Cler._ I must confess it.

_La-w._ And budg'd not, no I budg'd not.

_Cler._ No, you did not.

_La-w._ There's it then, one good turn requires another.

_Cler._ Most willing Sir, I am ready at your service.

_La-w._ There, read, and understand, and then deliver it.

_Cler._ This is a Challenge, Sir,

_La-w._ 'Tis very like, Sir, I seldom now write Sonnets.

_Cler._ _O admirantis_, To Monsieur _Vertaign_, the President.

_La-w._ I chuse no Fool, Sir.

_Cler._ Why, he's no Sword-man, Sir.

_La-w._ Let him learn, let him learn, Time, that trains Chickens up, will teach him quickly.

_Cler._ Why, he's a Judge, an Old Man.

_La-w._ Never too Old To be a Gentleman; and he that is a Judge Can judge best what belongs to wounded honour.

There are my griefs, he has cast away my causes, In which he has bowed my reputation.