Min.  Minos, an’t please you.

Tuc.  Minos!  Come hither, Minos; thou art a wise fellow, it seems; let me talk with thee.

Cris.  Was ever wretch so wretched as unfortunate I!

Tuc.  Thou art one of the centumviri, old boy, art not?

Min.  No indeed, master captain.

Tuc.  Go to, thou shalt be then; I’ll have thee one,

Minos.  Take my sword from these rascals, dost thou see! go, do it; I cannot attempt with patience.  What does this gentleman owe thee, little Minos?

Min.  Fourscore sesterties, sir.

Tuc.  What, no more!  Come, thou shalt release him.

Minos:  what, I’ll be his bail, thou shalt take my word, old boy, and cashier these furies:  thou shalt do’t, I say, thou shalt, little Minos, thou shalt.

Cris.  Yes; and as I am a gentleman and a reveller, I’ll make a piece of poetry, and absolve all, within these five days.

Tuc.  Come, Minos is not to learn how to use a gentleman of quality, I know.—­My sword:  If he pay thee not, I will, and I must, old boy.  Thou shalt be my pothecary too.  Hast good eringos, Minos.

Min.  The best in Rome, sir.

Tuc.  Go to, then—­Vermin, know the house.

1 Pyr.  I warrant you, colonel.

Tuc.  For this gentleman, Minos—­

Min.  I’ll take your word, captain.

Tuc.  Thou hast it.  My sword.

Min.  Yes, sir:  But you must discharge the arrest, master Crispinus.

Tuc.  How, Minos!  Look in the gentleman’s face, and but read his silence.  Pay, pay; ’tis honour, Minos.

Cris.  By Jove, sweet captain, you do most infinitely endear and oblige me to you.

Tuc.  Tut, I cannot compliment, by Mars; but, Jupiter love me, as I love good words and good clothes, and there’s an end.  Thou shalt give my boy that girdle and hangers, when thou hast worn them a little more.

Cris.  O Jupiter! captain, he shall have them now, presently:—­ Please you to be acceptive, young gentleman.

1 Pyr.  Yes, sir, fear not; I shall accept; I have a pretty foolish humour of taking, if you knew all. [Aside.

Tuc.  Not now, you shall not take, boy.

Cris.  By my truth and earnest, but he shall, captain, by your leave.

Tuc.  Nay, an he swear by his truth and earnest, take it, boy:  do not make a gentleman forsworn.

Lict.  Well, sir, there’s your sword; but thank master Minos; you had not carried it as you do else.

Tuc.  Minos is just, and you are knaves, and

Lict.  What say you, sir?