You understand this bag, if you have any business
Depending there, be short, and let me hear it,
And pay your Fees.
Cler. 'Faith, Sir, I have a business,
But it depends upon no Parliament.
La-writ. I have no skill in't then.
Cler. I must desire you,
'Tis a Sword matter, Sir.
La-writ. I am no Cutler,
I am an Advocate, Sir.
Beaup. How the thing looks?
Verd. When he brings him to fight.
Cler. Be not so hastie,
You wear a good Sword.
La-writ. I know not that,
I never drew it yet, or whether it be a Sword—
Cler. I must entreat you try, Sir, and bear a part
Against these Gentlemen, I want a second;
Ye seem a man, and 'tis a noble office.
La-writ. I am a Lawyer, Sir, I am no fighter.
Cler. You that breed quarels, Sir, know best to satisfie.
Beaup. This is some sport yet.
Verd. If this fellow should fight.
La-writ. And for any thing I know, I am an arrant coward,
Do not trust me, I think I am a coward.
Cler. Try, try, you are mistaken: walk on Gentlemen,
The man shall follow presently.
La-writ. Are ye mad Gentleman?
My business is within this half hour.
Cler. That's all one,
We'll dispatch within this quarter, there in that bottom,
'Tis most convenient Gentlemen.
Beaup. Well, we'll wait, Sir.
Verd. Why this will be a comick fight, you'l follow.
La-writ. As I am a true man, I cannot fight. [Ex. Beaupre, Verdone.
Cler. Away, away,
I know you can: I like your modesty,
I know you will fight and so fight, with such metal,
And with such judgement meet your enemies fury;
I see it in your eye, Sir.
La-writ. I'le be hang'd then;
And I charge you in the Kings name, name no more fighting.
Cler. I charge you in the Kings name, play the man,
Which if you do not quickly, I begin with you,
I'le make you dance, do you see your fiddlestick?
Sweet A[d]vocate thou shalt fight.
La-writ. Stand farther Gentleman,
Or I'le give you such a dust o'th' chapps—
Cler. Spoke bravely,
And like thy self, a noble Advocate:
Come to thy tools.
La-writ. I do not say I'le fight;
Cler. I say thou shalt, and bravely.
La-writ. If I do fight;
I say, if I do, but do not depend upon't,
And yet I have a foolish itch upon me,
What shall become of my Writings?
Cler. Let 'em ly by,
They will not run away, man.
La-writ. I may be kill'd too,
And where are all my causes then? my business?
I will not fight, I cannot fight, my Causes—
Cler. Thou shalt fight, if thou hadst a thousand causes,
Thou art a man to fight for any cause,
And carry it with honour.
La-writ. Hum, say you so? if I should
Be such a coxcombe to prove valiant now—
Cler. I know thou art most valiant.
La-writ. Do you think so?
I am undone for ever, if it prove so,
I tell you that, my honest friend, for ever;
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