The Little French Lawyer Part 22

_Cham._ Why Sir?

_Verta._ Why 'tis such a thing I smell it Sir, I smell it, Such a ridiculous thing,--

_La-writ._ Do you laugh at me my Lord?

I am very cold, but that should not be laught at.

_Cham._ What art thou?

_La-writ._ What art thou?

_Sam._ If he had his doublet.-- And his sword by his side, as a Gentleman ought to have.

_Verta._ Peace Monsieur _Sampson_.

_Cham._ Come hither little Gentleman.

_La-writ._ Base is the slave commanded: come to me.

_Verta._ This is the little advocate.

_Cham._ What advocate?

_Verta._ The little advocate that sent me a challenge, I told you that my Nephew undertook it, And what 'twas like to prove: now you see the issue.

_Cham._ Is this the little Lawyer?

_La-writ._ You have a sword Sir, And I have none, you have a doublet too That keeps you warm, and makes you merry.

_Sam._ If your Lords.h.i.+p knew The nature, and the n.o.bleness of the Gentleman, Though he shew slight here, and at what gusts of danger His manhood has arrived, But that Mens fates are foolish, And often headlong overrun their fortunes.

_La-writ._ That little Lawyer would so p.r.i.c.k his ears up, And bite your honour by the nose.

_Cham._ Say you so Sir?

_La-writ._ So niggle about your grave s.h.i.+ns Lord _Verta[ig]ne_ too.

_Sam._ No more sweet Gentleman, no more of that Sir.

_La-writ._ I will have more, I must have more.

_Verta._ Out with it.

_Sam._ Nay he is as brave a fellow.--

_Cham._ Have I caught you? [_Strikes him down._

_Verta._ Do not kill him, do not kill him.

_Cham._ No, no, no, I will not. Do you peep again?

Down down proud heart.

_Sam._ O valour, Look up brave friend, I have no means to rescue thee, My Kingdom for a sword.

_Cham._ I'le sword you presently, I'le claw your skin coat too.

_Verta._ Away good _Sampson_, You go to gra.s.s else instantly.

_Sam._ But do not murder my brave friend.

_Verta._ Not one word.

_Cham._ If you do sirra--

_Sam._ Must I goe off dishonour'd?

Adversity tries valour, so I leave thee. [_Exit_.

_Cham._ Are you a Lawyer Sir?

_La-writ._ I was, I was Sir.

_Cham._ Nay never look, your Lawyers pate is broken, And your litigious blood about your ears sirra, Why do you fight and snarle?

_La-writ._ I was possest.

_Cham._ I'le dispossess you.

_Verta._ Ha, ha, ha.

_La-writ._ _Et tu Brute?_

_Verta._ Beat him no more.

_Cham._ Alas Sir I must beat him, Beat him into his business again, he will be lost else.

_Verta._ Then take your way.

_Cham._ Ly still, and doe not struggle.

_La-writ._ I am patient, I never saw my blood before, it jades me, I have no more heart now than a goose.

_Cham._ Why sirra, why do you leave your trade, your trade of living, And send your challenges like thunderbolts, To men of honour'd place?

_La-writ._ I understand Sir, I never understood before your beating.

_Cham._ Does this work on you?

_La-writ._ Yes.