The workes of Beniamin Ionson

Scene I.

MATTHEW, WELL-BRED, BOBADILL, ED. KNO'WELL, STEPHEN.

YEs faith, sir, we were at your lodging to seeke you, too.

WEL.

Oh, I came not there to night.

BOB.

Your brother deliuered vs as much.

WEL.

Who? my brother DOWNE-RIGHT?

BOB.

He. M^r. WELL-BRED, I know not in what kind you hold me, but let me say to you this: as sure as honor, I esteeme it so much out of the sunne-shine of reputation, to through the least beame of reguard, vpon such a—

WEL.

Sir, I must heare no ill wordes of my brother.

BOB.

I, protest to you, as I haue a thing to be sau'd about me, I neuer saw any gentleman-like part—

WEL.

Good Captayne, faces about, to some other discourse.

BOB.

With your leaue, sir, and there were no more men liuing vpon the face of the earth, I should not fancie him, by S. GEORGE.

MAT.

Troth, nor I, he is of a rusticall cut, I know not how: he doth not carry himselfe like a gentleman of fashion—

WEL.

Oh, M^r. MATTHEW, that's a grace peculiar but to a few; quos aquus amauit IVPITER.

MAT.

I vnderstand you sir.

WEL.

Yong Kno'well enters.

No question, you doe, or you doe not, sir. NED KNO'WELL! by my soule welcome; how doest thou sweet spirit, my Genius? S'lid I shall loue APOLLO, and the mad Thespian girles the better, while I liue, for this; my deare furie: now, I see there's some loue in thee! Sirra, these bee the two I writ to thee of (nay, what a drowsie humour is this now? why doest thou not speake?)

E. KN.

Oh, you are a fine gallant, you sent me a rare letter!

WEL.

Why, was't not rare?

E. KN.

Yes, Ile bee sworne, I was ne're guiltie of reading the like; match it in all PLINIE, or SYMMACHVS epistles, and Ile haue my iudge∣ment burn'd in the eare for a rogue: make much of thy vaine, for it is in∣imitable. But I marle what camell it was, that had the carriage of it? for doubtlesse, he was no ordinarie beast, that brought it!

WEL.

Why?

E. KN.

Why, faiest thou? why doest thou thinke that any reasonable creature, especially in the morning (the sober time of the day too) could haue mis-tane my father for me?

WEL.

S'lid, you iest, I hope?

E. KN.

Indeed, the best vse wee can turne it too, is to make a iest on't, now: but Ile assure you, my father had the full view o' your flourishing stile, some houre before I saw it.

WEL.

What a dull slaue was this? But, sirrah, what said hee to it, Ifaith?

E. KN.

Nay, I know not▪ what he said: but I haue a shrewd gesse what hee thought.

WEL.

What? what?

E. KN.

Mary, that thou art some strange dissolute yong fellow, and I a graine or two better, for keeping thee companie.

WEL.

Tut, that thought is like the moone in her last quarter, 'twill change shortly: but, sirrha, I pray thee be acquainted with my two hang∣by's, here; thou wilt take exceeding pleasure in 'hem if thou hear'st 'hem once goe: my wind-instruments. Ile wind 'hem vp— but what strange piece of silence is this? the signe of the dumbe man?

E. KN.

Oh, sir, a kinsman of mine, one that may make your musique the fuller, and he please, he has his humour, sir.

WEL.

Oh, what ist? what ist?

E. KN.

Nay, Ile neither doe your iudgement, nor his folly that wrong, as to prepare your apprehension: Ile leaue him to the mercy o' your search, if you can take him, so.

WEL.

To Master Stephen.

Well, Captaine BOBADILL, M^r. MATTHEW, pray you know this gentleman here, he is a friend of mine, and one that will deserue your affection. I know not your name sir, but I shall be glad of any occasion, to render me more familiar to you

STEP.

My name is M^r. STEPHEN, sir, I am this gentlemans owne cousin, sir, his father is mine vnckle, sir, I am somewhat melancholy, but you shall command me, sir, in what soeuer is incident to a gentleman.

BOB.

To Kno'well.

Sir, I must tell you this, I am no generall man, but for M^r. WEL-BRED'S sake (you may embrace it, at what height of fauour you please) I doe communicate with you: and conceiue you, to bee a gentleman of some parts, I loue few wordes.

E. KN.

And I fewer, sir. I haue scarce inow, to thanke you.

MAT.

To Master Stephen.

But are you indeed. Sir? so giuen to it?

STEP.

I, truely, sir, I am mightily giuen to melancholy.

MAT.

Oh, it's your only fine humour, sir, your true melancholy, breeds your perfect sine wit, sir: I am melancholy my selfe diuers times, sir, and then doe I no more but take pen, and paper presently, and ouer∣flow you halfe a score, or a dozen of sonnets, at a sitting.

(E. KN.

Sure, he vtters them then, by the grosse.)

STEP.

Truely sir, and I loue such things, out of measure.

E. KN.

I faith, better then in measure, Ile vnder-take.

MAT.

Why, I pray you, sir, make vse of my studie, it's at your seruice.

STEP.

I thanke you sir, I shall bee bold, I warrant you; haue you a stoole there, to be melancholy' vpon?

MAT.

That I haue, sir, and some papers there of mine owne doing, at idle houres, that you'le say there's some sparkes of wit in 'hem, when you see them.

WEL.

Would the sparkes would kindle once, and become a fire a∣••ongst 'hem, I might see selfe-loue burn't for her heresie.

STEP.

Cousin, is it well? am I melancholy inough?

E. KN.

Oh I, excellent!

WEL.

Captaine BOBADILL: why muse you so?

E. KN.

He is melancholy, too.

BOB.

Faith, sir, I was thinking of a most honorable piece of seruice, was perform'd tomorrow, being S^t. MARKES day: shall bee some ten yeeres, now?

E. KN.

In what place, Captaine?

BOB.

Why, at the beleag'ring of Strigonium, where, in lesse then two houres, seuen hundred resolute gentlemen, as any were in Europe, lost their liues vpon the breach. Ile tell you, gentlemen, it was the first, but the best leagure, that euer I beheld, with these eies, except the taking in of—what doe you call it, last yeere, by the Genowayes, but that (of all other) was the most fatall, and dangerous exploit, that euer I was rang'd in, since I first bore armes before the face of the enemie, as I am a gentleman, & souldier.

STEP.

'So, I had as liefe, as an angell, I could sweare as well as that gentleman!

E. KN.

Then, you were a seruitor, at both it seemes! at Strigonium? and what doe you call't?

BOB.

Oh lord, sir? by S. GEORGE, I was the first man, that entred the breach: and, had I not effected it with resolution, I had beene slaine, if I had had a million of liues.

E. KN.

'Twas pittie, you had not ten; a cats, and your owne, ifaith. But, was it possible?

(MAT.

'Pray you, marke this discourse, sir.

STEP.

So, I doe.)

BOB.

I assure you (vpon my reputation) 'tis true, and your selfe shall confesse.

E. KN.

You must bring me to the racke, first.

BOB.

Obserue me iudicially, sweet sir, they had planted mee three demi-culuerings, iust in the mouth of the breach; now, sir (as we were to giue on) their master gunner (a man of no meane skill, and marke, you must thinke) confronts me with his linstock, readie to giue fire; I spying his intendment, discharg'd my petrionel in his bosome, and with these single armes, my poore rapier, ranne violently, vpon the Moores, that guar∣ded the ordinance, and put'hem pell-mell to the sword.

WEL.

To the sword? to the rapier, Captaine?

E. KN.

Oh, it was a good figure obseru'd, sir! but did you all this, Cap∣taine, without hurting your blade.

BOB.

Without any impeach, o' the earth: you shall perceiue sir. It is the most fortunate weapon, that euer rid on poore gentlemans thigh: shal I tell you, sir? you talke of Morglay, Excalibur, Durindana, or so? tut, I lend no credit to that is fabled of 'hem, I know the vertue of mine owne, and therefore I dare, the boldlier, maintaine it.

STEP.

I mar'le whether it be a Toledo, or no?

BOB.

A most perfect Toledo, I assure you, sir.

STEP.

I haue a countriman of his, here.

MAT.

Pray you, let's see, sir: yes faith, it is!

BOB.

This a Toledo? pish.

STEP.

Why doe you pish, Captaine?

BOB.

A Fleming, by heauen, Ile buy them for a guilder, a piece, an' I would haue a thousand of them.

E. KN.

How say you, cousin? I told you thus much?

WEL.

Where bought you it, M^r. STEPHEN?

STEP.

Of a souruie rogue souldier (a hundred of lice goe with him) he swore it was a Toledo.

BOB.

A poore prouant rapier, no better.

MAT.

Masse, I thinke it be, indeed! now I looke on't, better.

E. KN.

Nay, the longer you looke on't, the worse. Put it vp, put it vp.

STEP.

Well, I will put it vp, but by—(I ha' forgot the Captaynes oath, I thought to ha' sworne by it) an' ere I meet him—

WEL.

O, it is past helpe now, sir, you must haue patience.

STEP.

Horson connie-catching raskall! I could eate the very hilts for anger!

E. KN.

A signe of good digestion! you haue an ostrich stomack, cousin.

STEP.

A stomack? would I had him here, you should see, an' I had a stomack.

WEL.

It's better as 'tis: come, gentlemen, shall we goe?