SCENE II.

_A Street._

_Enter_ SWEETBALL, FLESH-HOOK, _and_ COUNTERBUFF.

SWEET. Now, Flesh-hook, use thy talon, set upon his right shoulder; thy sergeant, Counterbuff, at the left; grasp in his jugulars; and then let me alone to tickle his _diaphragma_. FLESH. You are sure he has no protection, sir? SWEET. A protection to cheat and cozen! there was never any granted to that purpose. FLESH. I grant you that too, sir; but that use has been made of ’em. COUN. Marry has there, sir; how could else so many broken bankrupts play up and down by their creditors' noses, and we dare not touch ’em? SWEET. That’s another case, Counterbuff; there’s privilege to cozen, but here cozenage went before, and there’s no privilege for that: to him boldly, I will spend all the scissors in my shop, but I'll have him snapt. COUN. Well, sir, if he come within the length of large mace once, we’ll teach him to cozen. SWEET. Marry, hang him! teach him no more cozenage, he’s too perfect in’t already; go gingerly about it; lay your mace on gingerly, and spice him soundly. COUN. He’s at the tavern, you say? SWEET. At the Man in the Moon, above stairs; so soon as he comes down, and the bush[930] left at his back, Ralph is the dog behind him; he watches to give us notice: be ready then, my dear bloodhounds; you shall deliver him to Newgate, from thence to the hangman: his body I will beg of the sheriffs, for at the next lecture I am likely to be the master of my anatomy; then will I vex every vein about him; I will find where his disease of cozenage lay, whether in the _vertebræ_ or in _os coxendix_;[931] but I guess I shall find it descend from _humore_, through the _thorax_, and lie just at his fingers'-ends.

_Enter_ RALPH. RAL. Be in readiness, for he’s coming this way, alone too; stand to’t like gentlemen and yeomen: so soon as he is in sight, I'll go fetch my master. SWEET. I have had a conquassation in my _cerebrum_ ever since the disaster, and now it takes me again; if it turn to a megrim, I shall hardly abide the sight of him. RAL. My action of defamation shall be clapt on him too; I will make him appear to’t in the shape of a white sheet, all embroidered over with _peccavis_: look about, I'll go fetch my master. [_Exit._

_Enter_ FRANKLIN _junior_.

COUN. I arrest you, sir. FRANK. JUN. _Ha! qui va là? que pensez-vous faire, messieurs? me voulez-vous dérober? je n’ai point d’argent; je suis un pauvre gentilhomme François._ SWEET. Whoop! pray you, sir, speak English; you did when you bought cloth-of-gold at six _nihils_ a-yard, when Ralph’s _præputium_ was exulcerated. FRANK. JUN. _Que voulez-vous? me voulez-vous tuer? les François ne sont point ennemis: voilà ma bourse; que voulez-vous d’avantage?_ COUN. Is not your name Franklin, sir? FRANK. JUN. _Je n’ai point de joyaux que cestui-ci, et c’est à monsieur l’ambassadeur; il m’envoie à ses affaires, et vous empêchez mon service._ COUN. Sir, we are mistaken, for ought I perceive.

_Enter_ WATER-CAMLET _with_ RALPH, _hastily_.

W.-CAM. So, so; you have caught him, that’s well.—How do you, sir? FRANK. JUN. _Vous semblez être un homme courtois, je vous prie entendez mes affaires; il y a ici deux ou trois canailles qui m’ont assiégé, un pauvre étranger, qui ne leur ai fait nul mal; ni donné mauvaise parole, ni tiré mon épée; l’un me prend par une épaule, et me frappe deux livres pesant; l’autre me tire par le bras, il parle je ne sais quoi: je leur ai donné ma bourse, et s’ils ne me veulent point laisser aller, que ferai-je, monsieur?_ W.-CAM.. This is a Frenchman, it seems, sirs. COUN. We can find no other in him, sir; and what that is we know not. W.-CAM.. He’s very like the man we seek for, else my lights go false. SWEET. In your shop[932] they may, sir, but here they go true; this is he. RAL. The very same, sir; as sure as I am Ralph, this is the rascal. COUN. Sir, unless you will absolutely challenge him the man, we dare not proceed further. FLESH. I fear we are too far already. W.-CAM.. I know not what to say to’t.

_Enter_ MARGARITA.

MAR. _Bon jour, bon jour, gentilhommes._ SWEET. How now? more news from France? FRANK. JUN. _Cette femme ici est de mon pays.—Madame, je vous prie leur dire mon pays; ils m’ont retargé,[933] je ne sais pourquoi._ MAR. _Etes-vous de France, monsieur?_ FRANK. JUN. _Madame, vrai est, que je les ai trompés, et suis arrêté, et n’ai nul moyen d'échapper qu’en changeant mon langage: aidez-moi en cette affaire; je vous connois bien, où vous tenez un bordeau; vous et les votres en serez de mieux._ MAR. _Laissez faire à moi. Etes-vous de Lyons, dites-vous?_ FRANK. JUN. _De Lyon, ma chère dame._ MAR. _Mon cousin! je suis bien aise de vous voir en bonne disposition._ [_Re-enter_ FRANK. JUN. _Ma cousine!_ W.-CAM.. This is a Frenchman sure. SWEET. If he be, ’tis the likest an Englishman that ever I saw, all his dimensions, proportions; had I but the dissecting of his heart, in _capsula cordis_ could I find it now; for a Frenchman’s heart is more quassative and subject to tremor than an Englishman’s. W.-CAM.. Stay, we’ll further inquire of this gentlewoman.—Mistress, if you have so much English to help us with—as I think you have, for I have long seen you about London—pray, tell us, and truly tell us, is this gentleman a natural Frenchman or no? MAR. Ey, begar, de Frenchman, born _à Lyons_, my cozin. W.-CAM.. Your cousin? if he be not your cousin, he’s my cousin, sure. MAR. Ey connosh his _père_, what you call his fadre; he sell _poissons_. SWEET. Sell poisons? his father was a ’pothecary then. MAR. No, no, _poissons_,—what you call fish, fish. SWEET. O, he was a fishmonger. MAR. _Oui, oui._ W.-CAM.. Well, well, we are mistaken, I see; pray you, so tell him, and request him not to be offended; an honest man may look like a knave, and be ne’er the worse for’t: the error was in our eyes, and now we find it in his tongue. MAR. _J'essayerai encore une fois, monsieur cousin, pour votre sauveté; allez-vous en; votre liberté est suffisante: je gagnerai le reste pour mon devoir, et vous aurez votre part à mon école; j’ai une fille qui parle un peu François; elle conversera avec vous à la Fleur-de-Lis en Turnbull Street.[934] Mon cousin, ayez soin de vous-même, et trompez ces ignorans._ FRANK. JUN. _Cousin, pour l’amour de vous, et principalement pour moi, je suis content de m’en aller: je trouverai votre école; et si vos écoliers me sont agréables, je tirerai à l'épée seule; et si d’aventure je la rompe, je payerai dix sous; et pour ce vieux fol, et ces deux canailles, ce poulain snip-snap, et l’autre bonnet rond, je les verrai pendre premier que je les vois._ [_Exit._ W.-CAM.. So, so, she has got him off, but I perceive much anger in his countenance still.—And what says he, madam? MAR. Moosh, moosh anger; but ey connosh heer lodging shall cool him very well; dere is a kinswomans can moosh allay heer heat and heer spleen; she shall do for my saka, and he no trobla you. W.-CAM.. [_giving money_] Look, there is earnest, but thy reward’s behind; come to my shop, the Holy Lamb in Lombard Street: thou hast one friend more than e’er thou hadst. MAR. Tank u, monsieur, shall visit u; ey make all pacifie: _à votre service très humblement_,—tree, four, five fool of u. [_Aside, and exit._ W.-CAM.. What’s to be done now? COUN. To pay us for our pains, sir; and better reward us, that we may be provided against further danger that may come upon ’s for false imprisonment. W.-CAM.. All goes false, I think. What do you, neighbour Sweetball? SWEET. I must phlebotomise, sir, but my almanac says the sign is in Taurus; I dare not cut my own throat; but if I find any precedent that ever barber hanged himself, I'll be the second example. RAL. This was your ill _luxinium_,[935] barber, to cause all to be cheated. COUN. What say you to us, sir? W.-CAM.. Good friends, come to me at a calmer hour, My sorrows lie in heaps upon me now: What you have, keep; if further trouble follow, I'll take it on me: I would be press’d to death. COUN. Well, sir, for this time we’ll leave you. SWEET. I will go with you, officers; I will walk with you in the open street, though it be a scandal to me; for now I have no care of my credit, a cacokenny[936] is run all over me. [_Exeunt._ SWEETBALL, FLESH-HOOK, _and_ COUNTERBUFF. W.-CAM.. What shall we do now, Ralph? RAL. Faith, I know not, sir: here comes George, it may be he can tell you. W.-CAM.. And there I look for more disaster still; Yet George appears in a smiling countenance.

_Enter_ GEORGE.

Ralph, home to the shop; leave George and I together. RAL. I am gone, sir. [_Exit._ W.-CAM.. Now, George, what better news eastward? all goes ill t’other way. GEO. I bring you the best news that ever came about your ears in your life, sir. W.-CAM.. Thou puttest me in good comfort, George. GEO. My mistress, your wife, will never trouble you more. W.-CAM.. Ha! never trouble me more? of this, George, may be made a sad construction; that phrase we sometimes use when death makes the separation; I hope it is not so with her, George? GEO. No, sir, but she vows she’ll never come home again to you; so you shall live quietly; and this I took to be very good news, sir. W.-CAM.. The worst that could be this, candied poison: I love her, George, and I am bound to do so; The tongue’s bitterness must not separate United[937] souls: ’twere base and cowardly For all to yield to the small tongue’s assault: The whole building must not be taken down For the repairing of a broken window. GEO. Ay, but this is a principal, sir: the truth is, she will be divorced, she says, and is labouring with her cousin Knave—what do you call him? I have forgotten the latter end of his name. W.-CAM.. Knavesby, George. GEO. Ay, Knave, or Knavesby, one I took it to be. W.-CAM.. Why, neither rage nor envy can make a cause, George. GEO. Yes, sir; not only at your person, but she shoots at your shop too; she says you vent ware that is not warrantable, braided ware, and that you give not London measure; women, you know, look for more than a bare yard: and then you keep children in the name of your own, which she suspects came not in at the right door. W.-CAM.. She may as well suspect immaculate truth To be curs’d falsehood. GEO. Ay, but if she will, she will; she’s a woman, sir. W.-CAM.. ’Tis most true, George: well, that shall be redress’d; My cousin Cressingham must yield me pardon, The children shall home again, and thou shalt conduct 'em, George. GEO. That done, I'll be bold to venture once more for her recovery, since you cannot live at liberty, but because you are a rich citizen, you will have your chain about your neck: I think I have a device will bring you together by th' ears again, and then look to ’em as well as you can. W.-CAM.. O George, ’mongst all my heavy troubles, this Is the groaning weight; but restore my wife![938] GEO. Although you ne’er lead hour of quiet life. W.-CAM. I will endeavour ’t, George; I'll lend her will A power and rule to keep all hush’d and still: Eat we all sweetmeats, we are soonest rotten. GEO. A sentence! pity ’t should have been forgotten! [_Exeunt._