SCENE IV.

A Street.

_Enter_ FRIPPERY, _wearing_ FITSGRAVE’S _cloak_.

FRI. What may I conjecture of this Goldstone? he has not only pawned to me this cloak, but the very diamond and sapphire which I bestowed upon my new love at master Primero’s house: the cloak’s new, and comes fitly to do me great grace at a wedding this morning, to which I was solemnly invited. I can continue change more than the proudest gallant of ’em all, yet never bestow penny of myself, my pawns do so kindly furnish me: but the sight of these jewels is able to cloy me, did I not preserve my stomach the better for the wedding-dinner. A gift could never have come in a more patient hour, nor to be better disgested.[629] Is she proved false?

But I’ll not fret to-day nor chafe my blood.

_Enter_ PURSENET.

PUR. Ha! yonder goes Bouser: the place is fit.— [_Calling out to Boy within._] Boy, stand with my horse at corner.—

I owe you for a pink three inches deep, sir. [_Strikes down_ FRIPPERY. FRI. O—O—O! PUR. Take that in part of payment for Combe Park. [_Exit._ Fri. O—O—O!

_Enter_ FITSGRAVE.

FIT. How now, who’s this? ’sfoot, one of our gallants knocked down like a calf! Is there such a plague of ’em here at London, they begin to knock ’em a’ th’ head already? FRI. O master Bouser! pray, lend me your hand, sir; I am slain! FIT. Slain and alive? O cruel execution! What man so savage-spirited durst presume To strike down satin on two taffetas cut, Or lift his hand against a beaver hat? FRI. Some rogue that owes me money, and had no other means. To a wedding-dinner! I must be dressed myself, methinks. FIT. How? why, this [is] my cloak: life, how came my cloak hither? FRI. Is it yours, sir? master Goldstone pawned it to me this morning fresh and fasting, and borrowed five pound upon’t. FIT. How, pawned it? pray, let me hear out this story: come, and I’ll lead[630] you to the next barber-surgeon’s.—Pawned my cloak? [_Exit, leading out_ FRIPPERY.