Wel. Well put off:--no crafty knave, you'll say. E. Know. Tut, he has more of these shifts. Brai. And yet, where I have one the broker has ten, sir. Reenter CASH Cash. Francis! Martin! ne'er a one to be found now? what a spite's this! Wel. How now, Thomas? Is my brother Kitely within? Cash. No, sir, my master went forth e'en now; but master Downright is within.--Cob! what, Cob! Is he gone too? Wel. Whither went your master, Thomas, canst thou tell? Cash. I know not: to justice Clement's, I think, sir--Cob! [Exit E. Know. Justice Clement! what's he? Wel. Why, dost thou not know him? He is a city-magistrate, a justice here, an excellent good lawyer, and a great scholar; but the only mad, merry old fellow in Europe. I shewed him you the other day. E. Know. Oh, is that he? I remember him now. Good faith, and he is a very strange presence methinks; it shews as if he stood out of the rank from other men: I have heard many of his jests in the University. They say he will commit a man for taking the wall of his horse. Wel. Ay, or wearing his cloak on one shoulder, or serving of God; any thing, indeed, if it come in the way of his humour. Re-enter CASH. Cash. Gasper! Martin! Cob! 'Heart, where should they be trow? Bob. Master Kitely's man, pray thee vouchsafe us the lighting of this match. [Exit. Cash. Fire on your match! no time but now to vouchsafe?--Francis! Cob! Bob. Body O' me! here's the remainder of seven pound since yesterday was seven-night. 'Tis your right Trinidado: did you never take any master Stephen? Step. No, truly, sir; but I'll learn to take it now, since you commend it so.