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.