The Little French Lawyer Part 8

Dost [thou] way-lay me with Ladies? A pretty sword, Sir, A very pretty sword, I have a great mind to't.

_Din._ You shall not lose your longing, rogue.

_Cler._ Hold, hold.

Hold _Dinant_, as thou art a Gentleman.

_La-writ._ As much as you will, my hand is in now.

_Cler._ I am your friend, Sir: _Dinant_ you draw your sword Upon the Gentleman preserv'd your honour: This was my second, and did back me n.o.bly, For shame forbear.

_Din._ I ask your mercy, Sir, and am your servant now.

_La-writ._ May we not fight then?

_Cler._ I am sure you shall not now.

_La-wr._ I am sorry for't, I am sure I'le stay no longer then, Not a jot longer: are there any more on ye afore?

I will sing still, Sir. [_Exit_ La-writ, _singing_.

_Din._ I look now you should chide me, and 'tis fit, And with much bitterness express your anger, I have deserv'd: yet when you know--

_Cler._ I thank ye, Do you think that the wrong you have off'red me, The most unmanly wrong, unfriendly wrong--

_Din._ I do confess--

_Cler._ That boyish sleight--

_Din._ Not so, Sir.

_Cler._ That poor and base renouncing of your honour, Can be allaied with words?

_Din._ I give you way still.

_Cler._ Coloured with smooth excuses? Was it a friends part, A Gentlemans, a mans that wears a Sword, And stands upon the point of reputation, To hide his head then, when his honour call'd him?

Call'd him aloud, and led him to his fortune?

To halt and slip the coller? by my life, I would have given my life I had never known thee, Thou hast eaten Canker-like into my judgement With this disgrace, thy whole life cannot heal again.

_Din._ This I can suffer too, I find it honest.

_Cler._ Can you pretend an excuse now may absolve you, Or any thing like honest, to bring you off?

Ingage me like an a.s.se?

_Din._ Will you but hear me?

_Cler._ Expose me like a Jade to tug, and hale through, Laugh'd at, and almost hooted? your disgraces Invite mens Swords and angers to dispatch me.

_Din._ If you will be patient.

_Cler._ And be abus'd still: But that I have call'd thee friend, And to that name allow a Sanctuary, You should hear further from me, I would not talk thus: But henceforth stand upon your own bottom, Sir, And bear your own abuses, I scorn my sword Should travel in so poor and empty quarrels.

_Din._ Ha' you done yet? take your whole swing of anger, I'le bear all with content.

_Cler._ Why were you absent?

_Din._ You know I am no Coward, you have seen that, And therefore, out of fear forsook you not: You know I am not false, of a treacherous nature, Apt to betray my friend, I have fought for you too; You know no business, that concern'd my state, My kindred, or my life.

_Cler._ Where was the fault then?

_Din._ The honour of that Lady I adore, Her credit, and her name: ye know she sent for me, And with what haste.

_Cler._ What was he that traduc'd?

_Din._ The man i'th' Moon, I think, hither I was sent, But to what end--

_Enter old_ Lady.

_Cler._ This is a pretty flim-flam.

_O. La._ I am glad I have met you Sir, I have been seeking, And seeking every where.

_Cler._ And now you have found him, Declare what business, our Emba.s.sadour.

_O. Lady._ What's that to ye good man flouter? O Sir, my Lady.

_Din._ Prethee no more of thy Lady, I have too much on't.

_Cler._ Let me have a little, speak to me.

_Old Lady._ To you Sir?

'Tis more than time: All occasions set aside Sir, Or whatsoever may be thought a business--

_Din._ What then?

_Old Lady._ Repair to me within this hour.

_Cler._ Where?

_O. Lady._ What's that to you? come you, Sir, when y'are sent for.

_Cler._ G.o.d a mercy _Mumpsimus_, You may goe _Dinant_, and follow this old Fairie, Till you have lost your self, your friends, your credit, And Hunt away your youth in rare adventures, I can but grieve I have known you.

_Old Lady._ Will ye goe Sir?

I come not often to you with these blessings, You m[a]y believe that thing there, and repent it, That dogged thing.

_Cler._ Peace touchwood.

_Din._ I will not goe: Goe bid your Lady seek some fool to fawn on her, Some unexperienc'd puppie to make sport with, I have been her mirth too long, thus I shake from me The fetters she put on; thus her enchantments I blow away like wind, no more her beauty--

_Old Lady._ Take heed Sir what you say.