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had held your life contemptible, in regard of your honour.
Daw. No, no; no such thing, I assure you. He and I parted now, as good friends as could be.
Tru. Trust not you to that visor. I saw him fince dinner with another face: I have known many men in my time vex'd with losses, with deaths, and with abuses; but so offended a wight as Sir Amorous, did I never see or read of. For taking away his guests, Sir, to-day, that's the cause; and he declares it behind your back with such threatenings and contempts-He said to Dauphine, you were the arrant'st ass
Daw. Ay, he may say his pleasure.
Tru. And swears you are so protested a coward, that he knows you will never do him any manly or single right; and therefore he will take his course.
Daw. I'll give him any satisfaction, Sir-but fighting
Tru. Ay, Sir; but who knows what satisfaction he'll take : Blood he thirsts for, and blood he will have; and whereabouts on you he will have it, who knows, but himself?
Daw. I pray you, Master Truewit, be you a mediator. U4
Tru. Well, Sir, conceal yourself then in this study till I return. [He puts him up.] Nay, you must i be content to be lock'd in; for, for mine own reputation, I would not have you seen to receive a publick disgrace, while I have the matter in
:7 managing. Gods so, here he comes; keep your breath close, that he do not hear you figh.-In good faith, Sir Amorous, he is not this way; I pray you be merciful, do not murder him: You are arm’d as if you sought a revenge on all his race. Good Dauphine, get him away from this place. I never knew a man's choler so high, but he would speak to his friends, he would hear reason.-Jack Daw, Jack! alleep?
Dan.[Coming forth.] Is he gone, master Truewit?
Tru. Arm’d! did you ever see a fellow set out to take pofleffion?
Daw. Ay, Sir.
Tru. That may give you fome light to conceive of him; but 'tis nothing to the principal. He has got somebody's old two-hand sword, to mow you off at the knees : And that sword has spawn'd fuch
a dagger !But then he is so hung with pikes, hälberds, peitronels, callivers, and musquets, that he looks like a justice of peace’s hall: A man of two thousand a-year is not sess’d at fo many weapons as he has on. You would think he meant to murder all St. Pulchre’s parish. He is sufficiently arm’d to over-run a country.
Daw. Good Lord! what means he, Sir? I pray you, master 'Truewit, be you a mediator.
Tru. Well, I'll try if he will be appeas'd with a leg or an arm; if not, you must die once.
Daw. I would be loth to lose my right arm, for writing madrigals.
Tru. Why, if he will be satisfied with a thumb, pr a little finger, all's one to me. You must think, I'll do my best.
Daw. Good Sir, do. [Goes into the closet again,
Re-enter Dauphine and Clerimont.
Tru. He will let me do nothing, man; hę does all afore me; he offers his left arm.
Dau. Take it, by all means.
Tru. How! maim a man for ever, for a jeft? What a conscience hast thou ? Dau. 'Tis no loss to him; he has no employment for his arms, but to eat spoon-meat. Beside, as good maim his body, as his reputation.
* Tru. He is a scholar, and a' wit, and yet he does not think so. 'But he loses no reputation with us ; for we all' resolv'd him an ass before. To your places again. Dau. Come away, Clerimont.
''[Retires with Clerimont.
Tru, Sir Amorous !
Tru. Question till your throat be cut, do : Dally till the enraged soul find you.
La-F. Who's that?
Tru. Nay, if he had been cool enough to tell us that, there had been some hope to atone you; but he seems so implacably enrag'
La-F. 'Slight, let him rage: I'll hide myself.
Tru, Do, good Sir; but what have you done to him within, that should provoke him thus? You have broke some jest upon him afore the ladies
La-F. Not I; never in my life, broke jest upon any man, The bride was praising Sir Dauphine, and he went away in snuff, and I followed him; unless he took offence at me in his drink e're-while, that I would not pledge all the horse-full.
Trụ. By, my faith, and that may be; you remember well: But he walks the round up and down, thro' every room o' the house, with a towel in his hand, crying, where's La-Foole ? who saw La-Foole? And when Dauphine and I demanded the cause, we can force no answer from him, but “Oh, revenge, how sweet art thou! I will strangle « him in this towel;" which leads us to conjecture, that the main cause of his fury is, for bringing your meat to-day, with a towel about you, to his discredit.
La-F. Like enough. Why, an he be angry for that, I'll stay here till his anger be blown over.
Tru. A good becoming resolution, Sir; if you can put it on o'the sudden.
La-F. Yes, I can put it on: Or, I'll away into the country presently.