Part 27 (2/2)

_Sam._ And can the brave _La-writ_--

_2 Cly._ Tempt him no further, Be warn'd and say no more.

_La-writ._ If thou doest, _Sampson_, Thou seest my Mirmidons, I'le let 'em loose, That in a moment--

_Sam._ I say nothing, Sir, but I could wish--

_La-writ._ They shall destroy thee wis.h.i.+ng; There's ne'r a man of these, but have lost ten causes, Dearer then ten mens lives; tempt, and thou diest: Goe home, and smile upon my Lord, thine Uncle, Take Mony of the men thou mean'st to Cousin, Drink Wine, and eat good meat, and live discreetly, Talk little, 'tis an antidote against a beating; Keep thy hand from thy sword, and from thy Laundress placket, And thou wilt live long.

_1 Cly._ Give ear, and be instructed.

_La-writ._ I find I am wiser than a Justice of Peace now, Give me the wisdom that's beaten into a man That sticks still by him: art thou a new man?

_Sam._ Yes, yes, Thy learned precepts have inchanted me.

_La-writ._ Goe my son _Sampson_, I have now begot thee, I'le send thee causes; speak to thy Lord, and live, And lay my share by, goe and live in peace, Put on new suits, and shew fit for thy place; That man neglects his living, is an a.s.se: [_Exit_ Samp.

Farewel; come chearily boyes, about our business, Now welcom tongue again, hang Swords.

_1 Cly._ Sweet Advocate. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Nurse, _and_ Charlote.

_Nur._ I know not wench, they may call 'em what they will, Outlawes, or thieves, but I am sure, to me One was an honest man, he us'd me well, What I did, 'tis no matter, he complain'd not.

_Char._ I must confess, there was one bold with me too, Some coy thing would say rude, but 'tis no matter, I was to pay a Waiting womans ransom, And I have don't, and I would pay't again, Were I ta'n to morrow.

_Nur._ Alas, there was no hurt, If 't be a sin for such as live at hard meat, And keep a long Lent, in the woods as they do, To taste a little flesh.

_Char._ G.o.d help the Courtiers, That lye at rack and manger.

_Nur._ I shall love A thief the better for this while I live, They are men of a charitable vocation, And give where there is need, and with discretion, And put a good speed penny in my purse, That has been empty twenty years.

_Char._ Peace Nurse, Farewel, and cry not rost meat, me thinks _Cleremont_ And my Lady _Anabel_ are in one night, Familiarly acquainted.

_Nur._ I observe it, If she have got a penny too.

_Enter_ Vertaign, Champernel, _and_ Provost.

_Charl._ No more, My Lord Monsieur _Vertaigne_, the provost too, Haste and acquaint my Lady. [_Ex._ Nur. _and_ Char.

_Pro._ Wonderous strange.

_Vert._ 'Tis true Sir, on my credit.

_Cham._ O mine honour.

_Pro._ I have been provost-Marshal twenty years, And have trussed up a thousand of these rascals, But so near _Paris_ yet I never met with One of that Brotherhood.

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