]
WOM: Sir, he says, he knows
By your word "tidings," that you are no statesman,
And therefore wills you stay.
PER: Sweet, pray you return him;
I have not read so many proclamations,
And studied them for words, as he has done--
But--here he deigns to come.
[EXIT WOMAN.]
[ENTER SIR POLITICK.]
SIR P: Sir, I must crave
Your courteous pardon. There hath chanced to-day,
Unkind disaster 'twixt my lady and me;
And I was penning my apology,
To give her satisfaction, as you came now.
PER: Sir, I am grieved I bring you worse disaster:
The gentleman you met at the port to-day,
That told you, he was newly arrived--
SIR P: Ay, was
A fugitive punk?
PER: No, sir, a spy set on you;
And he has made relation to the senate,
That you profest to him to have a plot
To sell the State of Venice to the Turk.
SIR P: O me!
PER: For which, warrants are sign'd by this time,
To apprehend you, and to search your study
For papers--
SIR P: Alas, sir, I have none, but notes
Drawn out of play-books--
PER: All the better, sir.
SIR P: And some essays.
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