 | The Renegado |  |
Scæna Sexta.
Enter Franciso, Gazet.Fran.
I thinke hee's lost.
Gazet.
Tis ten to one of that,
But he lost his credit, though he sau'd himselfe
Why, looke you sir, there are so many lobbies,
Out offices, and disputations heere
Behind these Turkish hangings, that a Christian
Hardly gets off but circumcised.
Fran.
I am troublde
Enter Vitelli, Carazie, Manto,
Troublde exceedingly. Ha! vvhat are these?
Gaz.
One by his rich sute should bee some french Embassador
For his trayne I thinke they are Turkes.
Fran.
Peace, be not seene.
Cara.
You are now past all the gards, and vndiscouerd
You may returne.
Vitel.
There's for your paynes, forget not
My humblest seruice to the best of Ladies.
Manto.
Deserue her fauour sir, in making haste
For a second entertainement.
Uitel.
Doe not doubt me,
Exeunt Carazi, Manto.
I shall not liue till then.
Gaz.
The trayne is vanish'd
They haue done him some good office hee's so free
And liberall of his gold. Ha, doe I dreame,
Or is this mine owne naturall Master;
Fran.
Tis he,
But strangely metamorphosde. You haue made sir.
A prosperous voyage, heauen grant it be honest,
I shall reioyce then too.
Gaz.
You make him blush
To talke of honesty, you were but now
In the giuing vaine, and may thinke of Gazet
Your worships prentice.
Vitel.
There's gold, be thou free too
And Master of my shop, and all the wares
Wee brought from Venice.
Gaz.
Riuo then.
Vitel.
Deere sir
This place affords not priuacie for discourse
Deserues least admiration; thers nothing
That can fall in the compasse of your wishes
Though it were to redeeme a thousand slaues
From the Turkish gallies, or at home to erect
Some pious worke, to shame all Hospitalls,
But I am master of the meanes.
Fran.
Tis strange.
Vitel.
As I vvalke Ile tell you more.
Gaz.
Pray you a word Sir,
And then I will put on. I haue one boone more.
Vitel.
What is't? speake freely.
Gaz.
Thus then, as I am Master
Of your Shop, and vvares, pray you help me to some trucking
With your last shee customer, though shee cracke my best peece
I vvill indure it with patience.
Uitel.
Leaue your prating.
Gaz.
I may, you haue beene doing, we will doe too.
Fran.
I am amazde, yet will nor blame, nor chide you,
Till you informe me further. Yet must say
They steere not the right course, nor trafficke well,
That seeke a passage to reach Heauen, through Hell.
Exeunt
| The Renegado | |