SCENE III.

_A Street near St. Paul’s._

_Enter_ SHORTYARD _and_ FALSELIGHT _disguised as a Sergeant and a Yeoman_.

SHO. So, no man is so impudent to deny that: spirits[1068] can change their shapes, and soonest of all into sergeants, because they are cousin-germans to spirits; for there’s but two kind of arrests till doomsday,—the devil for the soul, the sergeant for the body; but afterward the devil arrests body and soul, sergeant and all, if they be knaves still and deserve it. Now, my yeoman Falselight. FAL. I attend you, good sergeant Shortyard. SNO. No more master Blastfield now. Poor Easy, hardly beset! FAL. But how if he should go to prison? we’re in a mad state then, being not sergeants. SHO. Never let it come near thy belief that he’ll take prison, or stand out in law, knowing the debt to be due, but still expect the presence of master Blastfield, kind master Blastfield, worshipful master Blastfield; and at the last—— BOY. [_within_]. Master Shortyard, master Falselight! SHO. The boy? a warning-piece.[1069] See where he comes.

_Enter_ EASY _and Boy_.

EASY. Is not in Paul’s. BOY. He is not far off sure, sir. EASY. When was his hour, sayst thou? BOY. Two, sir. EASY. Why, two has struck. BOY. No, sir, they are now a-striking. SHO. Master Richard Easy of Essex, we arrest you. EASY. Hah? BOY. Alas, a surgeon! he’s hurt i’ th’ shoulder. [_Exit._ SHO. Deliver your weapons quietly, sir. EASY. Why, what’s the matter? SHO. You’re arrested at the suit of master Quomodo. EASY. Master Quomodo? SHO. How strange you make it! You’re a landed gentleman, sir, I know;[1070] ’tis but a trifle, a bond of seven hundred pound. EASY. La, I knew[1071] you had mistook; you should arrest One master Blastfield; ’tis his bond, his debt. SHO. Is not your name there? EASY. True, for fashion’s sake. SHO. Why, and ’tis for fashion’s sake that we arrest you. EASY. Nay, and[1072] it be no more, I yield to that: I know master Blastfield will see me take no injury as long as I’m in town, for master Alsup’s sake. SHO. Who’s that, sir? EASY. An honest gentleman in Essex. SHO. O, in Essex? I thought you had been in London, where now your business lies: honesty from Essex will be a great while a-coming, sir; you should look out an honest pair of citizens. EASY. Alas, sir, I know not where to find ’em! SHO. No? there’s enow in town. EASY. I know not one, by my troth; I am a mere stranger for these parts: master Quomodo is all, and the honestest that I know. SHO. To him then let’s set forward.—Yeoman Spiderman, cast an eye about for master Blastfield. EASY. Boy.—Alas, the poor boy was frighted away at first! SHO. Can you blame him, sir? we that daily fray away knights, may fright away boys, I hope. [_Exeunt._