_Enter Slipper one way, and S. Bartram another way._ _Bar._ Ho fellow, stay and let me speake with thee. _Sli._ Fellow, frend thou doest disbuse me, I am a Gentlemã. _Bar._ A Gentleman, how so? _Slip._ Why I rub horses sir. 1190 _Bar._ And what of that? _Sip._ Oh simple witted, marke my reason, they that do good seruice in the Common-weale are Gentlemen, but such as rub horses do good seruice in the Common-weale, Ergo tarbox Maister Courtier, a Horse-keeper is a Gentleman. _Bar._ Heere is ouermuch wit in good earnest: But sirrha where is thy Maister? _Slip._ Neither aboue ground nor vnder ground, Drawing out red into white, Swallowing that downe without chawing, 1200 That was neuer made without treading. _Bar._ Why where is hee then? _Slip._ Why in his seller, drinking a cup of neate and briske claret, in a boule of siluer: Oh sir the wine runnes trillill down his throat, which cost the poore viutnerd many a stampe before it was made: but I must hence sir, I haue haste. _Bar._ Why whither now I prithee? _Slip._ Faith sir, to Sir _Siluester_ a Knight hard by, vppon my Maisters arrand, whom I must certifie this, that the lease of _Est Spring_ shall bee confirmed, and therefore must I bid him 1210 prouide trash, for my Maister is no friend without mony. _Bar._ This is the thing for which I sued so long, This is the lease which I by _Guatoes_ meanes, Sought to possesse by pattent from the King: But hee iniurious man, who liues by crafts, And selles kings fauours for who will giue most, Hath taken bribes of mee, yet couertly Will sell away the thing pertaines to mee: But I haue found a present helpe I hope, For to preuent his purpose and deceit: 1220 Stay gentle friend. _Slip._ A good word, thou haste won me, This word is like a warme candle to a colde stomacke. _Bar._ Sirra wilt thou for mony and reward, Conuay me certaine letters out of hand, From out thy maisters pocket. _Slip._ Will I sir, why, were it to rob my father, hang my mother, or any such like trifles, I am at your commaundement sir, what will you giue me sir? _S. Bar._ A hundreth pounds. 1230 _Slip._ I am your man, giue me earnest, I am dead at a pocket sir, why I am a lifter maister, by my occupation. _S. Bar._ A lifter, what is that? _Slip._ Why sir, I can lift a pot as well as any man, and picke a purse assoone as any theefe in my countrie. _S. Bar._ Why fellow hold, heere is earnest, Ten pound to assure thee, go dispatch, And bring it me to yonder Tauerne thou seest, And assure thy selfe thou shalt both haue Thy skin full of wine, and the rest of thy mony. 1240 _Slip._ I will sir. Now roome for a Gentleman, my maisters, who giues mee mony for a faire new Angell, a trimme new Angell? _Exeunt._ _Enter Andrew and Purueyer._ _III. ii._