[Enter a servant.]
SERVANT.
Who knocks? who’s at door? we had need of a Porter.
PYE.
A few friends here:—pray, is the Gentleman your master within?
SERVANT.
Yes, is your business to him?
PYE.
Aye, he knows it, when he see’s me: I pray you, have you
forgot me?
SERVANT.
Aye, by my troth, sir. Pray come near; I’ll in and tell him
of you: please you to walk here in the Gallery till he comes.
PYE.
We will attend his worship.—Worship, I think, for so much
the Posts at his door should signify, and the fair coming
in, and the wicket; else I neither knew him nor his worship,
but ’tis happiness he is within doors, what so ere he be;
if he be not too much a formal Citizen, he may do me good.—
Sergeant and Yeoman, how do you like this house? ist not
most wholesomely plotted?
RAVEN.
Troth, prisoner, an exceeding fine house.
PYE.
Yet I wonder how he should forget me,—for he ne’er knew
me.—No matter, what is forgot in you will be remembered
in your Master. A pretty comfortable room this, me thinks:
You have no such rooms in prison now?
PUT.
Oh, dog-holes toote.
PYE.
Dog-holes, indeed. I can tell you, I have great hope to
have my Chamber here shortly, nay, and diet too, for he’s
the most free-heartedst Gentleman where he takes: you would
little think it! and what a fine Gallery were here for me to
walk and study, and make verses.
PUT.
O, it stands very pleasantly for a Scholar.
[Enter Gentleman.]
PYE.
Look what maps, and pictures, and devices, and things:
neatly, delicately—mass, here he comes: he should be a
Gentleman; I like his Beard well.—All happiness to your
worship.
GENTLEMAN.
You’re kindly welcome, sir.
PUT.
A simple salutation.
RAVEN.
Mass, it seems the Gentleman makes great account of him.
PYE.
I have the thing here for you, sir. I beseech you conceal
me, sir, I’m undone else,—I have the Mask here for you,
sir, Look you, sir.—I beseech your worship first to pardon
my rudeness, for my extremes makes me bolder than I would
be. I am a poor Gentleman and a Scholar, and now most
unfortunately fallen into the Fangs of unmerciful officers,
arrested for debt, which tho small, I am not able to
compass, by reason I’m destitute of lands, money, and
friends; so that if I fall into the hungry swallow of the
prison, I am like utterly to perish, and with fees and
extortions be pincht clean to the bone. Now, if ever pity
had interest in the blood of a Gentleman, I beseech you
vouchsafe but to favour that means of my escape, which I
have already thought upon.
GENTLEMAN.
Go forward.
PUT.
I warrant he likes it rarely.
PYE.
In the plundge of my extremities, being giddy, and doubtful
what to do, at least it was put into my labouring thoughts,
to make happy use of this paper; and to blear their unlettered
eyes, I told them there was a Device for a Mask drawn int’,
and that (but for their interception,) I was going to a
Gentleman to receive my reward for’t: they, greedy at this
word, and hoping to make purchase of me, offered their
attendance, to go along with me. My hap was to make bold
with your door, Sir, which my thoughts showed me the most
fairest and comfortablest entrance, and I hope I have
happened right upon understanding and pity: may it please
your good Worship, then, but to uphold my Device, which is
to let one of your men put me out at back-door, and I shall
be bound to your worship for ever.
GENTLEMAN.
By my troth, an excellent device.
PUT.
An excellent device, he says; he likes it wonderfully.
GENTLEMAN.
A my faith, I never heard a better.
RAVEN.
Hark, he swears he never heard a better, Sergeant.
PUT.
O, there’s no talk on’t, he’s an excellent Scholar, and
especially for a Mask.
GENTLEMAN.
Give me your Paper, your Device; I was never better pleased
in all my life: good wit, brave wit, finely wrought! come
in, sir, and receive your money, sir.
PYE.
I’ll follow your good Worship.—
You heard how he liked it now?
PUT.
Puh, we know he could not choose but like it: go thy ways;
thou art a witty fine fellow, ifaith, thou shalt discourse
it to us at Tavern anon, wilt thou?
pye.
Aye, aye, that I will. Look, Sergeants, here are Maps, and
pretty toys: be doing in the mean time. I shall quickly
have told out the money, you know.
PUT.
Go, go, little villain, fetch thy chinck. I begin to love
thee; I’ll be drunk to night in thy company.
PYE.
[Aside.] This Gentleman I may well call a part
Of my salvation, in these earthly evils,
For he has saved me from three hungry Devils.
[Exit George.]
PUT.
Sirrah Sergeant, these Maps are pretty painted things, but
I could ne’er fancy ’em yet: me thinks they’re too busy,
and full of Circles and Conjurations; they say all the
world’s in one of them, but I could ne’er find the Counter
in the Poultry.
RAVEN.
I think so: how could you find it? for you know, it stands
behind the houses.
DOGSON.
Mass, that’s true; then we must look ath’ back-side fort.
Sfoot, here’s nothing, all’s bare.
RAVEN.
I warrant thee, that stands for the Counter, for you know
there’s a company of bare fellows there.
PUT.
Faith, like enough, Sergeant; I never marked so much before.
Sirrah Sergeant, and Yeoman, I should love these Maps out
a cry now, if we could see men peep out of door in em: oh,
we might have em in a morning to our Break-fast so finely,
and ne’er knock our heels to the ground a whole day for em.
RAVEN.
Aye, marry, sir, I’d buy one then my self. But this talk is
by the way: where shall’s sup to night? Five pound
receiv’d! let’s talk of that. I have a trick worth all:
you two shall bear him to ’th Tavern, whilst I go close with
his Hostess, and work out of her. I know she would be glad
of the sum to finger money, because she knows tis but a
desperate debt, and full of hazard. What will you say, if
I bring it to pass that the Hostess shall be contented with
one half for all; and we to share tother fifty-shillings,
bullies?
PUT.
Why, I would call thee King of Sergeants, and thou shouldst
be Chronicled in the Counter book for ever.
RAVEN.
Well, put it to me, we’ll make a Night on’t, yfaith.
DOGSON.
Sfoot, I think he receives a more money, he stays so long.
PUT.
He tarries long, indeed: may be, I can tell you, upon the
good liking ont the Gentleman may prove more bountiful.
RAVEN.
That would be rare; we’ll search him.
PUT.
Nay, be sure of it, we’ll search him! and make him light
enough.
[Enter the Gentleman.]
RAVEN.
Oh, here comes the Gentleman. By your leave, sir.
GENTLEMAN.
God you god den, sirs,—would you speak with me?
PUT.
No, not with your worship, sir; only we are bold to stay for
a friend of ours that went in with your worship.
GENTLEMAN.
Who? not the scholar?
PUT.
Yes, e’en he, and it please your worship.
GENTLEMAN.
Did he make you stay for him? he did you wrong, then: why,
I can assure you he’s gone above an hour ago.
RAVEN.
How, sir?
GENTLEMAN.
I paid him his money, and my man told me he went out at
back-door.
PUT.
Back-door?
GENTLEMAN.
Why, what’s the matter?
PUT.
He was our prisoner, sir; we did arrest him.
GENTLEMAN.
What! he was not! you the Sheriff’s Officers! You were to
blame then. Why did you no make known to me as much? I
could have kept him for you: I protest he received all of
me in Britain Gold of the last coining.
RAVEN.
Vengeance dog him with’t!
PUT.
Sfott, has he guiled us so?
DOGSON.
Where shall we sup now Sergeant?
PUT.
Sup, Simon, now! eat Porridge for a month. Well, we cannot
impute it to any lack of good-will in your Worship,—you did
but as another would have done: twas our hard fortunes to
miss the purchase, but if e’er we clutch him again, the
Counter shall charm him.
RAVEN.
The hole shall rot him.
DOGSON.
Amen
[Exeunt.]
GENTLEMAN.
So,
Vex out your Lungs without doors. I am proud,
It was my hap to help him; it fell fit.
He went not empty neither for his wit.
Alas, poor wretch, I could not blame his brain
To labour his delivery, to be free
From their unpitying fangs—I’m glad it stood
Within my power to do a Scholar good.
[Exit.]