Albumazar A comedy presented before the Kings Maiestie at Cambridge, the ninth of March. 1614. By the Gentlemen of Trinitie Colledge.

ACT. 3. SCEN. 7.

RONCA. TRINCALO.

RON.

SIgnior Antonio? I saw you as you landed, And in great hast follow'd to congratulate Your safe returne, with these most wish't embraces.

TRI.

And I accept your ioy with like affection. How do you call your selfe?

RON.

Haue you forgot Your deere friend Ronca, whom you lou'd so well?

TRI.

O I remember now my deere friend Ronca.

RON.

Thanks to the fortune of the seas that sau'd you.

TRI.

I feare I owe him money: how shall I shift him? How do's your body Ronca?

RON.

My deere Antonio, Neuer so well as now I haue the power Thus to embrace my friend, whom all th'Exchange Gaue drown'd for three whole months. My deere Antonio.

TR.

I thank you sir.

RO.

I thank you.

TR.

While my deere Ronca Clipt me, my purse shooke dangerously; yet both his armes And hands embrac'd my necke: here's none behinde me,

How can this be?

RON.

Most deare Antonio, Was not your passage dangerous from Barbarie? We had great windes and tempests; and I feare me, You felt the force at sea.

TRI.

Yes dearest Ronca. How's this? I see his hands, and yet my purse is gone.

RO.

Signior Antonio, I see your mind's much troubled About affaires of worth; I take my leaue, And kisse your hands of liberalitie.

TRI.

And kisse my hands of liberalitie? I gaue him nothing: O my purse, my purse! Deare master Ronca.

RON.

What's your pleasure sir?

TR.

Shew me your hand.

RO.

Here 'tis.

TR.

But wheres th'other?

RON.

Why here.

TRI.

But I meane where's your other hand?

RON.

Thinke you me the Giant with a hundred hands?

TR.

Giue me your right.

RO.

My right?

TR.

Your left.

RO.

My left?

TR.

Now both.

RON.

There's both my deere Antonio▪ Keepe your selfe darke, eate broath; your fearefull passage, And want of naturall rest hath made you franticke.

TRI.

Villaine, rogue, cut-purse, theefe, deare Ronca stay: hee's gone I'th Diuels name, how could this fellow do it? I felt his hands fast lock't about my necke; And still he spoke, it could not be his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 For that was full of deere Antonio. My life he stol't with's feet: such a tricke more Will worke worse with me then a looking-glasse. To loose fiue pound in curt'sie, and the rest In salutation!

RON.

Signior Antonio, What ailes you?

TRI.

Ronca a rogue, a cut-purse, Hath rob'd mee of fiue twenty-shilling peeces.

RON.

What kind of man was he? something like me?

TRI.

Had such a theeuish countenance as your owne, But that he wore a black patch ore his eye.

RON.

Met you with Ronca? 'tis the cunningst nimmer Of the whole company of cut-purse hall▪ I am sorry I was not here to warne you of him.