id="id00249">Arn. In that hope I live.

Rut. And so do I, but hope is a poor Sallad To dine and sup with, after a two dayes fast too, Have you no mony left?

Arn. Not a Denier.

Rut. Nor any thing to pawn? 'tis now in fashion, Having a Mistress, sure you should not be Without a neat Historical shirt.

Arn. For shame Talk not so poorly.

Rut. I must talk of that
Necessity prompts us to, for beg I cannot,
Nor am I made to creep in at a window,
To filch to feed me, something must be done,
And suddenly resolve on't.

Enter Zabulon and a Servant.

Arn. What are these?

Rut. One by his habit is a Jew.

Zab. No more: Thou art sure that's he.

Ser. Most certain.

Zab. How long is it Since first she saw him?

Ser. Some two hours.

Zab. Be gone—let me alone to work him. [Exit Ser.

Rut. How he eyes you! Now he moves towards us, in the Devils name What would he with us?

Arn. Innocence is bold: Nor can I fear.

Zab. That you are poor and strangers, I easily perceive.

Rut. But that you'l help us, Or any of your tribe, we dare not hope Sir.

Zab. Why think you so?

Rut. Because you are a Jew Sir, And courtesies come sooner from the Devil Than any of your Nation.

Zab. We are men,
And have like you, compassion when we find
Fit subjects for our bounty, and for proof
That we dare give, and freely, not to you Sir,
Pray spare your pains, there's gold, stand not amaz'd,
'Tis current I assure you.

Rut. Take it man,
Sure thy good Angel is a Jew, and comes
In his own shape to help thee: I could wish now
Mine would appear too like a Turk.

Arn. I thank you,
But yet must tell you, if this be the Prologue
To any bad act, you would have me practise,
I must not take it.

Zab. This is but the earnest
Of [t]hat which is to follow, and the bond
Which you must seal to for't, is your advancement,
Fortune with all that's in her power to give,
Offers her self up to you: entertain her,
And that which Princes have kneel'd for in vain
Presents it self to you.

Arn. 'Tis above wonder.

Zab. But far beneath the truth, in my relation
Of what you shall possess, if you emb[r]ace it.
There is an hour in each mans life appointed
To make his happiness if then he seize it,
And this, (in which, beyond all expectation,
You are invited to your good) is yours,
If you dare follow me, so, if not, hereafter
Expect not the like offer. [Exit.

Arn. 'Tis no vision.

Rut. 'Tis gold I'm sure.

Arn. We must like brothers share; There's for you.

Rut. By this light I'm glad I have it:
There are few Gallants, (for men may be such
And yet want gold, yea and sometimes silver)
But would receive such favours from the Devil,
Though he appear'd like a Broker, and demanded
Sixty i'th' hundred.

Arn. Wherefore should I fear
Some plot upon my life? 'tis now to me
Not worth the keeping. I will follow him,
Farewel, wish me good fortune, we shall meet
Again I doubt not.

Rut. Or I'le ne're trust Jew more, [Exit Arnoldo. Nor Christian for his sake—plague o' my stars, How long might I have walkt without a Cloak, Before I should have met with such a fortune? We elder Brothers, though we are proper men, Ha' not the luck, ha' too much beard, that spoils us; The smooth Chin carries all: what's here to do now? [Manet Rutilio.

Enter Duarte, Alonzo, and a Page.

Dua. I'le take you as I find you.

Alon. That were base—you see I am unarm'd.

Dua. Out with your Bodkin
Your Pocket-dagger, your Steletto, out with it,
Or by this hand I'le kill you: such as you are
Have studied the undoing of poor Cutlers,
And made all manly weapons out of fashion:
You carry Poniards to murder men,
Yet dare not wear a sword to guard your Honour.

Rut. That's true indeed: upon my life this gallant Is brib'd to repeal banisht swords.

Dua. I'le shew you The difference now between a Spanish Rapier And your pure Pisa.

Alon. Let me fetch a sword, Upon mine honour I'le return.

Dua. Not so Sir.

Alon. Or lend me yours I pray you, and take this.

Rut. To be disgrac'd as you are, no I thank you
Spight of the fashion, while I live, I am
Instructed to go arm'd: what folly 'tis
For you that are a man, to put your self
Into your enemies mercy.

Dua. Yield it quickly
Or I'le cut off your hand, and now disgrace you,
Thus kick and baffle you: as you like this,
You may again prefer complaints against me
To my Uncle and my Mother, and then think
To make it good with a Poniard.

Alon. I am paid For being of the fashion.

Dua. Get a sword,
Then if you dare redeem your reputation:
You know I am easily found: I'le add this to it
To put you in mind.

Rut. You are too insolent,
And do insult too much on the advantage
Of that which your unequal weapon gave you,
More than your valour.

Dua. This to me, you Peasant?
Thou art not worthy of my foot poor fellow,
'Tis scorn, not pity, makes me give thee life:
Kneel down and thank me for't: how, do you stare?

Rut. I have a sword Sir, you shall find, a good one; This is no stabbing guard.

Dua. Wert thou thrice arm'd, Thus yet I durst attempt thee.

Rut. Then have at you, [Fight. I scorn to take blows.

Dua. O I am slain. [Falls.

Page. Help! murther, murther!

Alon. Shift for your self you are dead else, You have kill'd the Governou[r]s Nephew.

Page. Raise the streets there.

Alon. If once you are beset you cannot scape, Will you betray your self?

Rut. Undone for ever. [Exit Rut. and Alonzo.

Enter Officers.

1 Off. Who makes this out-cry?

Page. O my Lord is murdered; This way he took, make after him, Help help there. [Exit Page.

2 Offi. 'Tis Don Duarte.

1 Offi. Pride has got a fall,
He was still in quarrels, scorn'd us Peace-makers,
And all our Bill-authority, now h'as paid for't.
You ha' met with your match Sir now, bring off his body
And bear it to the Governour. Some pursue
The murderer; yet if he scape, it skills not;
Were I a Prince, I would reward him for't,
He has rid the City of a turbulent beast,
There's few will pity him: but for his Mother
I