my rapier hilts.

CAR. Sweet knight, hold in thy fury, and 'fore heaven I'll honour thee
more than the Turk does Mahomet.

PUNT. Down, I say! [CARLO LIES DOWN.] -- Who's there?
[KNOCKING WITHIN.

CONS. [WITHIN.] Here's the constable, open the doors.

CAR. Good Macilente --

PUNT. Open no door; if the Adalantado of Spain were here he should not
enter: one help me with the light, gentlemen; you knock in vain, sir
officer.

CAR. 'Et tu, Brute!'

PUNT. Sirrah, close your lips, or I will drop it in thine eyes, by heaven.

CAR. O! O!

CONS. [WITHIN] Open the door, or I will break it open.

MACI. Nay, good constable, have patience a little; you shall come in
presently; we have almost done.
[PUNTARVOLO SEALS UP CARLO'S LIPS.

PUNT. So, now, are you Out of your Humour, sir? Shift, gentlemen
[THEY ALL DRAW, AND RUN OUT, EXCEPT FUNGOSO, WHO CONCEALS HIMSELF BENEATH
THE TABLE.

ENTER CONSTABLE AND OFFICERS, AND SEIZE FASTIDIOUS AS HE IS RUSHING BY.
CONS. Lay hold upon this gallant, and pursue the rest.

FAST. Lay hold on me, sir, for what?

CONS. Marry, for your riot here, sir, with the rest of your companions.

FAST. My riot! master constable, take heed what you do. Carlo, did I
offer any violence?

CONS. O, sir, you see he is not in case to answer you, and that makes you
so peremptory.

RE-ENTER GEORGE AND DRAWER.
FAST. Peremptory! 'Slife, I appeal to the drawers, if I did him any hard
measure.

GEORGE. They are all gone, there's none of them will be laid any hold on.

CONS. Well, sir, you are like to answer till the rest can be found out.

FAST. 'Slid, I appeal to George here.

CONS. Tut, George was not here: away with him to the Counter, sirs. --
Come, sir, you were best get yourself drest somewhere.
[EXEUNT CONST. AND OFFICERS, WITH FAST. AND CAR.

GEORGE. Good lord, that master Carlo could not take heed, and knowing what
a gentleman the knight is, if he be angry.

DRAWER. A pox on 'em, they have left all the meat on our hands; would they
were choaked with it for me!

RE-ENTER MACILENTE.
MACI. What, are they gone, sirs?

GEORGE. O, here's master Macilente.

MACI. [POINTING TO FUNGOSO.] Sirrah, George, do you see that concealment
there, that napkin under the table?

GEORGE. 'Ods so, signior Fungoso!

MACI. He's