And another time, a fencer, marching to his prize, had his drum most tragically run through, for taking that street in his way, at my request.

TRU. A good wag. How does he for the bells?

CLE. Oh, i' the Queen's time, he was wont to go out of town every Saturday at ten o'clock, or on holy- day-eves. But now, by reason of the sickness, the perpetuity of ringing has made him devise a room with double walls and treble ceilings; the windows close shut, and caulked: and there he lives by candlelight. He turned away a man last week for having a pair of new shoes that creaked. And this fellow waits on him now, in tennis-court socks, or slippers soled with wool: and they talk each to other in a trunk. See, who comes here.

 

Scene 2

Enter Dauphine

 

DAU. How now! What ail you, sirs? Dumb?

TRU. Struck into stone, almost, I am here, with tales o' thine uncle! There was never such a prodigy heard of.

DAU. I would you would once lose this subject, my masters, for my sake. They are such as you are, that have brought me into that predicament I am with him.

TRU. How is that?

DAU. Marry, that he will disinherit me, no more. He thinks I and my company are authors of all the ridiculous acts and monuments are told of him.

TRU. 'Slid, I would be the author of more, to vex him, that purpose deserves it: it gives thee law of plaguing him. I'll tell thee what I would do. I would make a false almanack; get it printed: and then ha' him drawn out on a coronation day to the Tower Wharf, and kill him with the noise of the ordnance. Disinherit thee! He cannot, man. Art not thou next of blood, and his sister's son?

DAU. Aye, but he will thrust me out of it, he vows, and marry.

TRU. How! That's a more portent. Can he endure no noise, and will venture on a wife?

CLE. Yes: why, thou art a stranger, it seems, to his best trick yet. He has employed a fellow this half year, all over England, to hearken him out a dumb woman; be she of any form, or any quality, so she be able to bear children: her silence is dowry enough, he says.

TRU. But, I trust to God, he has found none.

CLE. No, but he has heard of one that's lodged i' the next street to him, who is exceedingly soft-spoken; thrifty of her speech; that spends but six words a day. And her he's about now, and shall have her.

TRU. Is't possible! Who is his agent i' the business?

CLE. Marry, a barber, one Cutbeard: an honest fellow, one that tells Dauphine all here.

TRU.