STEP. So, I had as lief as an angel I could swear as well as that gentleman.
LOR. JU. Then you were a servitor at both, it seems.
BOB. O Lord, sir: by Phaeton, I was the first man that entered the breach, and had I not effected it with resolution, I had been slain if Ihad had a million of lives.
LOR. JU. Indeed, sir?
STEP. Nay, an you heard him discourse you would say so: how like you him?
BOB. I assure you (upon my salvation) 'tis true, and yourself shall confess.
PROS. You must bring him to the rack first.
BOB. Observe me judicially, sweet Signior: they had planted me a demi-culverin just in the mouth of the breach; now, sir, (as we were to ascend), their master gunner (a man of no mean skill and courage, you must think,) confronts me with his linstock ready to give fire; I spying his intendment, discharged my petronel in his bosom, and with this instrument, my poor rapier, ran violently upon the Moors that guarded the ordnance, and put them pell-mell to the sword.
PROS. To the sword? to the rapier, Signior.
LOR. JU. Oh, it was a good figure observed, sir: but did you all this, Signior, without hurting your blade?
BOB. Without any impeach on the earth: you shall perceive, sir, it is the most fortunate weapon that ever rid on a poor gentleman's thigh: shall Itell you, sir? you talk of Morglay, Excalibur, Durindana, or so: tut, Ilend no credit to that is reported of them, I know the virtue of mine own, and therefore I dare the boldlier maintain it.
STEP. I marle whether it be a Toledo or no?
BOB. A most perfect Toledo, I assure you, Signior.
STEP. I have a countryman of his here.
MAT. Pray you let's see, sir: yes, faith, it is.
BOB. This a Toledo? pish!
STEP. Why do you pish, Signior?
BOB. A Fleming, by Phoebus! I'll buy them for a guilder a piece, an I'll have a thousand of them.
LOR. JU. How say you, cousin? I told you thus much.
PROS. Where bought you it, Signior?
STEP. Of a scurvy rogue soldier, a pox of God on him, he swore it was a Toledo.
BOB. A preovant rapier, no better.
MAT. Mass, I think it be indeed.
LOR. JU. Tut, now it's too late to look on it, put it up, put it up.
STEP. Well, I will not put it up, but by God's foot, an ever I meet him -PROS. Oh, it is past remedy now, sir, you must have patience.
STEP. Whoreson, coney-catching rascal; oh, I could eat the very hilts for anger.
LOR. JU. A sign you have a good ostrich stomach, cousin.
STEP. A stomach? would I had him here, you should see an I had a stomach.
PROS. It's better as 'tis: come, gentlemen, shall we go?
LOR. JU. A miracle, cousin, look here, look here.
[ENTER MUSCO.
STEP. Oh, God's lid, by your leave, do you know me, sir?
MUS. Ay, sir, I know you by sight.
STEP. You sold me a rapier, did you not?
MUS. Yes, marry did I, sir.
STEP. You said it was a Toledo, ha?
MUS. True, I did so.
STEP. But it is none.
MUS. No, sir, I confess it, it is none.
STEP. Gentlemen, bear witness, he has confest it. By God's lid, an you had not confest it --LOR. JU. Oh, cousin, forbear, forbear.
STEP. Nay, I have done, cousin.
PROS. Why, you have done like a gentleman, he has confest it, what would you more?
LOR. JU. Sirrah, how dost thou like him?
PROS. Oh, it's a precious good fool, make much on him: I can compare him to nothing more happily than a barber's virginals; for every one may play upon him.
MUS. Gentleman, shall I intreat a word with you?
LOR. JU. With all my heart, sir, you have not another Toledo to sell, have you?
MUS. You are pleasant, your name is Signior Lorenzo, as I take it?
LOR. JU. You are in the right: 'Sblood, he means to catechise me, I think.
MUS. No, sir, I leave that to the Curate, I am none of that coat.
LOR. JU. And yet of as bare a coat; well, say, sir.
MUS. Faith, Signior, I am but servant to God Mars extraordinary, and indeed (this brass varnish being washed off, and three or four other tricks sublated) I appear yours in reversion, after the decease of your good father, Musco.
LOR. JU. Musco, 'sblood, what wind hath blown thee hither in this shape?
MUS. Your easterly wind, sir, the same that blew your father hither.
LOR. JU. My father?
MUS. Nay, never start, it's true, he is come to town of purpose to seek you.
LOR. JU. Sirrah Prospero, what shall we do, sirrah? my father is come to the city.
PROS. Thy father: where is he?
MUS. At a gentleman's house yonder by St. Anthony's, where he but stays my return; and then --PROS. Who's this? Musco?
MUS. The same, sir.
PROS. Why, how com'st thou transmuted thus?
MUS. Faith, a device, a device, nay, for the love of God, stand not here, gentlemen, house yourselves, and I'll tell you all.
LOR. JU. But are thou sure he will stay thy return?
MUS. Do I live, sir? what a question is that!
PROS. Well, we'll prorogue his expectation a little: Musco, thou shalt go with us: Come on, gentlemen: nay, I pray thee, (good rascal) droop not, 'sheart, an our wits be so gouty, that one old plodding brain can outstrip us all. Lord, I beseech thee, may they lie and starve in some miserable spittle, where they may never see the face of any true spirit again, but be perpetually haunted with some church-yard hobgoblin in seculo seculorum MUS. Amen, Amen.
