disgrace, while I have the matter in managing. Ods so, here he
comes; keep your breath close, that he do not hear you sigh.
In good faith, sir Amorous, he is not this way; I pray you be
merciful, do not murder him; he is a Christian, as good as you:
you are arm'd as if you sought 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! asleep!

DAW [within]: Is he gone, master Truewit?

TRUE: Ay; did you hear him?

DAW: O lord! yes.

TRUE: What a quick ear fear has!

DAW [COMES OUT OF THE CLOSET.]: But is he so arm'd, as you say?

TRUE: Arm'd? did you ever see a fellow set out to take possession?

DAW: Ay, sir.

TRUE: That may give you some light to conceive of him: but 'tis
nothing to the principal. Some false brother in the house has
furnish'd him strangely; or, if it were out of the house, it was
Tom Otter.

DAW: Indeed he's a captain, and his wife is his kinswoman.

TRUE: He has got some body's old two-hand sword, to mow you off
at the knees; and that sword hath spawn'd such a dagger!--But
then he is so hung with pikes, halberds, petronels, calivers and
muskets, that he looks like a justice of peace's hall: a man of
two thousand a-year, is not cess'd at so many weapons as he has on.
There was never fencer challenged at so many several foils. You
would think he meant to murder all Saint Pulchre parish. If he
could but victual himself for half a year in his breeches, 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.

TRUE: Well, I 'll try if he will be appeased 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.

TRUE: Why, if he will be satisfied with a thumb or a little finger,
all's one to me. You must think, I will do my best.

[SHUTS HIM UP AGAIN.]

DAW: Good sir, do.

[CLERIMONT AND DAUPHINE COME FORWARD.]

CLER: What hast thou done?

TRUE: He will let me do nothing, he does all afore; he offers
his left arm.

CLER: His left wing for a Jack Daw.

DAUP: Take it, by all means.

TRUE: How! maim a man for ever, for a jest? What a conscience hast
thou!

DAUP: 'Tis no loss to him; h