Sir Joseph Wittoll, Bluffe.

BLUFF.  And so, out of your unwonted generosity—

SIR JO.  And good-nature, Back; I am good-natured and I can’t help it.

BLUFF.  You have given him a note upon Fondlewife for a hundred pound.

SIR JO.  Ay, ay, poor fellow; he ventured fair for’t.

BLUFF.  You have disobliged me in it—for I have occasion for the money, and if you would look me in the face again and live, go, and force him to redeliver you the note.  Go, and bring it me hither.  I’ll stay here for you.

SIR JO.  You may stay until the day of judgment, then, by the Lord Harry.  I know better things than to be run through the guts for a hundred pounds.  Why, I gave that hundred pound for being saved, and de’e think, an there were no danger, I’ll be so ungrateful to take it from the gentleman again?

BLUFF.  Well, go to him from me—tell him, I say, he must refund—or Bilbo’s the world, and slaughter will ensue.  If he refuse, tell him—but whisper that—tell him—I’ll pink his soul.  But whisper that softly to him.

SIR JO.  So softly that he shall never hear on’t, I warrant you.  Why, what a devil’s the matter, Bully; are you mad? or de’e think I’m mad?  Agad, for my part, I don’t love to be the messenger of ill news; ’tis an ungrateful office—so tell him yourself.

BLUFF.  By these hilts I believe he frightened you into this composition: I believe you gave it him out of fear, pure, paltry fear—confess.

SIR JO.  No, no, hang’t; I was not afraid neither—though I confess he did in a manner snap me up—yet I can’t say that it was altogether out of fear, but partly to prevent mischief—for he was a devilish choleric fellow.  And if my choler had been up too, agad, there would have been mischief done, that’s flat.  And yet I believe if you had been by, I would as soon have let him a’ had a hundred of my teeth.  Adsheart, if he should come just now when I’m angry, I’d tell him—Mum.