BOUT. Sir, be not nice-- Yet I must needs herein commend your love-- To let me see him; for (know) I know him wed, And that he stole away Sommerfield's heir. Therefore suspect me not: I am his friend. THROAT. How! wed to rich Sommerfield's only heir! Is old Sommerfield dead? BOUT. Do you make it strange? THROAT. By heav'n, I know it not. BOUT. Then am I griev'd I spake so much; but that I know you love him, I should entreat your secrecy, sir; fare you well. THROAT. Nay, good sir, stay; if ought you can disclose Of Master Small-shanks' good, let me partake, And make me glad in knowing his good hap. BOUT. You much endear him, sir; and from your love I dare presume you make yourself a fortune, If his fair hopes proceed. THROAT. Say on, good sir. BOUT. You will be secret? THROAT. Or be my tongue torn out. BOUT. [Fair] measure for a lawyer. [_Aside._] But to the point, He has stole Sommerfield's heir, hither brings her, As to a man on whom he may rely His life and fortunes: you hath he named Already for the steward of his lands: To keep his courts, and to collect his rent; To let out leases, and to raise his fines: Nothing that may or love or profit bring, But you are named the man. THROAT. I am his slave, And bound unto his noble courtesy Even with my life; I ever said he would thrive, And I protest I kept his forfeit mortgage To let him know what 'tis to live in want. BOUT. I think no less. One word more in private. [_Walk aside._ CON. Good Master Dash, shall I put you now a case? DASH. Speak on, good master page. CON. Then thus it is: Suppose I am a page, he is my master, My master goes to bed, and cannot tell What money's in his hose; I, ere next day, Have filch'd out some, what action lies for this? DASH. An action, boy, call'd firking the posteriors. With us your action seldom comes in question; For that 'tis known that most of your gallants Are seldom so well-stor'd, that they forget What money's in their hose; but if they have, There is no other help than swear the page, And put him to his oath. CON. Then, firk o' law,[350] Dost think, he that has conscience to steal, Has not a conscience likewise to deny? Then hang him up, i' faith? [BOUTCHER _and_ THROAT _come forward again_. BOUT. I must meet him. THROAT. Commend me to them; come, when they will, My doors stand open, and all within is theirs; And though Ram-Alley stinks with cooks and ale, Yet say there's many a worthy lawyer's chamber, 'Buts upon Ram-Alley. I have still an open throat, If aught I have which may procure his good, Bid him command--ay, though it be my blood. [_Exeunt._ FOOTNOTES: