_The Middle Aisle of St. Paul’s._[640]
_Enter_ PURSENET _and Boy_.
PUR. Art sure thou sawest him receive’t, boy?
BOY. Forty pound in gold, as I’m a gentleman born.
PUR. Thy father gave the ram’s head,[641] boy?
BOY. No, you’re deceived; my mother gave that, sir.
PUR. What’s thy mother’s is thy father’s.
_Enter_ PYAMONT.
BOY. I’m sorry it holds in the ram’s head. See, here he
walks; I was sure he came into Paul’s: the gold had been
yours, master, long ere this, but that he wears both his
hands in his pockets.
PUR. How unfortunately is my purpose seated! what the
devil should come in his mind to keep in his hands so
long? the biting but of a paltry louse would do me great
kindness now; I’d know[642] not how to requite it: will
no rascal creature assist me? Stay, what if I did
impudently salute ’em out? good. Boy, be ready, boy.
BOY. Upon the least advantage, sir.
PUR. You’re most devoutly met in Paul’s, sir.
PY. So are you, but I scarce remember you, sir.
PUR. O, I cry you mercy, sir; I pray, pardon me; I fear
I have tendered an offence, sir: troth, I took you at
the first for one master Dumpling, a Norfolk gentleman.
[_While_ PURSENET _speaks, the Boy watches in vain
for an opportunity to pick_ PYAMONT’S
_pocket_.
PY. There’s no harm done yet, sir.
PUR. I hope he is there by this time. [_Aside._]—How
now, boy, hast it?
BOY. No, by troth, have I not; this labour’s lost: ’tis
in the right pocket, and he kept that hand in sure
enough.
PUR. Unpractised gallant! salute me but with one hand,
like a counterfeit soldier? O times and manners! are we
grown beasts? do we salute by halves? are not our limbs
at leisure?
Where’s comely nurture? the Italian kiss,
Or the French cringe, with the Polonian waist?
Are all forgot?
Then misery follows.—Surely fate forbade it:
Had he employ’d but his right hand, I’d had it.
_Enter_ BUNGLER.
It must be an everlasting device, I think, that procures
both his hands out at once.
[_Aside, and exit with Boy._
PY. Do you walk, sir?[643]
BUN. No, I stay a little for a gentleman’s coming too.
PY. Farewell then, sir: I have forty pound in gold about
me, which I must presently send down into the country.
BUN. Fare you well, sir. [_Exit_ PYAMONT.]—I wonder
master Goldstone spares my company so long; ’tis now
about the navel of the day, upon the belly of noon.
_Enter_ GOLDSTONE _and_ FULK, _both disguised_.
GOL. See where he walks: be sure you let off at a
twinkling, now.
FULK. When did I miss you?—Your worship has forgot you
promised mistress Newcut, your cousin, to dine with her
this day.
GOL. Mass, that was well remembered.
BUN. I am bold to salute you, sir.
GOL. Sir?
BUN. Is mistress Newcut your cousin, sir?
GOL. Yes, she’s a cousin of mine, sir.
BUN. Then I am a cousin of yours, by the sister’s side.
GOL. Let me salute you then; I shall be glad of your
farther acquaintance.
BUN. I am a bidden guest there too.
GOL. Indeed, sir!
BUN. Faith, invited this morning.
GOL. Your good company shall be kindly embraced, sir.
BUN. I walk a turn or two here for a gentleman, but I
think he’ll either overtake me, or be before me.
GOL. ’Tis very likely, sir.—There, sirrah, go to dinner,
and about two wait for me.
BUN. Nay, let him come between two and three, cousin,
for we love to sit long at dinner i’ th’ city.
GOL. Come, sweet cousin.
BUN. Nay, cousin; keep your way, cousin; good cousin, I
will not, i’faith, cousin. [_Exeunt._