The workes of Beniamin Ionson

Act III. (Book 3)

Scene I.

SHIFT, ORANGE, CLOVE.

THis is rare, I haue set vp my bills, without discouery.

ORAN.

What? Signior WHI••••E? what fortune has brought you into these west parts?

SHIFT.

Troth, signior, nothing but your rheume; I haue beene ta∣king an ounce of tabacco hard by here, with a gentleman, and I am come to spit priuate, in Pau••es. Saue you sir.

ORAN.

Adieu, good signior WHI••••E.

CLOVE.

Master APPLE IOHN? you are well met: when shall we ••up together; and laugh, and be fat with those good wenches? ha?

SHIFT.

Faith, sir, I must now leaue you, vpon a few humours, and occasions: but when you please, sir.

CLOVE.

Farewell, sweet APPLE IOHN: I wonder, there are no more store of gallants here!

GREX.

MIT.

What be these two, signior?

COR.

Mary, a couple sir, that are meere strangers to the whole scope of our play; only come to walke a turne or two, i'this Scene of Paules, by chance.

ORAN.

Same you, good master CLOVE.

CLOVE.

Sweet master ORANGE.

GREX.

MIT.

How? CLOVE, and ORANGE?

COR.

I, and they are well met, for 'tis as drie an ORANGE as euer grew: nothing, but Salutation; and, O god, sir; and, It pleases you to say so, Sir; one that can laugh at a iest for company with a most plausible, and extemporall grace; and some houre after, in priuate, aske you what it was: the other, monsieur CLOVE, is a more spic't youth: he will fit you a whole afternoone sometimes, in a booke-sellers shop, reading the Greeke, Italian, and Spanish; when he vnderstands not a word of either: if he had the tongues, to his sutes, he were an excellent linguist.

CLOVE.

Doe you heare this reported, for certainty?

ORAN.

O god, sir.

Act III. Scene II.

PVNTARVOLO, CARLO.

SIrrah, take my cloke: and you sir knaue, follow mee closer. If thou losest my dogge, thou shalt die a dogs death; I will hang thee.

CARL.

Tut, feare him not, hee's a good leane slaue, he loues a dog well, I warrant him; I see by his lookes, I: masse hee's somwhat like him. Slud poison him, make him away with a crooked pinne, or somewhat, men; thou maist haue more security of thy life: and so sir, what? you ha' not put out your whole venter yet? ha' you?

PVNT.

No, I doe want yet some fifteene, or sixteene hundred pounds: but my lady (my wife) is out of her humour; shee does not now goe.

CARL.

No? how then?

PVNT.

Mary, I am now enforc't to giue it out, vpon the returne of my selfe, my dogge, and my cat.

CARL.

Your cat? where is shee?

PVNT.

My squire has her there, in the bag: Sirrah, looke to her: How lik'st thou my change, CARLO?

CARL.

Oh, for the better, sir; your cat has nine lines, and your wife ha' but one.

PVNT.

Besides, shee will neuer bee sea-sicke, which will saue mee so much in conserues: when saw you signior SOGLIARDO?

CARL.

I came from him but now, he is at the Heralds office yonder: he requested me to goe afore, and take vp a man or two for him in Paules, against his cognisance was ready.

PVNT.

What? has he purchast armes, then?

CARL.

I, and rare ones too: of as many colours, as e're you saw any ••ooles co•••• in your life. I'le goe looke among youd•• bille, and I can fit him with legs to his armes—

PVNT.

They goe to looke vpon the bills.

With legs to his armes! Good: I will goe with you, sir.

Act III. Scene III.

FASTIDIVS, DELIRO, MACILENTE.

COme, let's walke in Mediterraneo: I assure you, sir, I am not the least respected among ladies; but let that passe: doe you know how to goe into the presence, sir?

MACI.

Why, on my feet, sir.

FAST.

No, on your head, sir: for 'tis that must beare you out, I assure you: as thus, sir. You must first haue an especial care so to weare your hat, that it oppresse not confusedly this your predominant, or fore-top; be∣cause (when you come at the presence dore) you may, with once or twice stroking vp your fore-head thus, enter, with your predominant perfect: that is, standing vp stiffe.

MACI.

As if one were frighted?

FAST.

I, sir.

MACI.

Which indeed, a true feare of your mistris should doe, rather than gumme water, or whites of egges: is't not so, sir?

FAST.

An ingenious obseruation: giue mee leaue to craue your name, Sir.

DELI.

His name is, MACILENTE, sir.

FAST.

Good signior MACILENTE: if this gentleman, signior DE∣LIRO, furnish you (as he saies he will) with clothes, I will bring you, to morrow by this time, into the presence of the most diuine, and acute lady in court: you shall see sweet silent rhetorique, and dumbe eloquence spea∣king in her eye; but when shee speakes her selfe, such an anatomie of wit, so sinewiz'd and arteriz'd, that 'tis the goodliest modell of pleasure that e∣uer was to behold. Oh! shee strikes the world into admiration of her; (ô, ô, ô) I cannot expresse 'hem, beleuue me.

MACI.

O, your onely admiration, is your silence, sir.

PVNT.

'Fore god, CARLO, this is good; let's reade 'hem againe.

If there be any lady, or gentlewoman of good carriage, that is desi∣rous to entertaine (to her priuate vses) a yong, straight, and vpright gentleman, of the age of fiue, or sixe and twenty at the most: who can serue in the nature of a gentleman vsher, and hath little legges of purpose, and a blacke satten fute of his owne, to goe before her in: which fute (for the more sweetning) now lies in lauander: and can hide his face with her fanne, if neede require: or sit in the cold at the staire foot for her, as well as another gentleman: Let her sub∣scribe her name and place, and diligent respect shall be giuen.

This is above measure exellent! ha?

CARL.

No, this, this! here's a fine slaue.

PVNT.

IF this city, or the suburbs of the same, doe affoord any yong gentleman, of the first, second, or third head, more or lesse, whose friends are but lately deceased, and whose lands are but new come to his hands, that (to bee as exactly qualified as the best of our ordinary gallants are) is affected to entertaine the most gentlemanlike vse of tabacco: as first, to giue it the most exquisite perfume; then, to know all the delicate sweet formes for the assumption of it: as also the rare corollarie, and practice of the Cuban ebolition, EV∣RIPVS, and whiffe; which hee shall receiue, or take in, here at London, and euaporate at Vxbridge, or farder, if it please him. If there be any such generous spirit, that is truly enamour'd of these good faculties: May it please him, but (by a note of his hand) to spe∣cifie

the place, or ordinarie where hee vses to eate, and lie; and most sweet attendance, with tabacco, and pipes of the best sort, shall be ministred: STET QVAESO CANDIDE LECTOR.

PVNT.

Why this is without paralell, this!

CARL.

Well, I'le marke this fellow for SOGLIARDO'S vse presently.

PVNT.

Or rather, SOGLIARDO, for his vse,

CARL.

Faith, either of 'hem will serue, they are both good properties: I'le designe the other a place too, that we may see him.

PVNT.

No better place, then the Mitre, that we may bee spectators with you, CARLO. Soft, behold, who enters here: Signior SOGLIARDO! saue you.

Act III. Scene IIII.

SOGLIARDO.

To them.

SAue you, good sir PVNTARVOLO; your dogge's in health, sir, I see: how now, CARLO?

CARL.

Wee haue ta'ne simple paines, to choose you out fol∣lowers here.

PVNT.

Come hither, signior.

CLOVE.

They shew him the bills.

Monsieur ORANGE, yond' gallants obserue vs; pr'y thee let's talke fustian a little, and gull 'hem: make 'hem beleeue vve are great schollers.

ORANG.

O lord, sir.

CLOVE.

Nay, pr'y thee let's, beleeue me, you haue an excellent habit in discourse.

ORANG.

It pleases you to say so, sir.

CLOVE.

By this church, you ha' la: nay, come, begin:

ARISTOTLE in his Daemonologia, approues SCALIGER for the best Nauigator in his time: and in his Hypercritiques, he reports him to be Heautontimorumenos:

you vn∣derstand the Greeke, sir?

ORANG.

O god, sir.

MACIL.

For societies sake he does. O, here be a couple of fine tame parrats.

CLOVE.

Now, sir, vvhereas the Ingenuitie of the time, and the soules Synderisis are but Embrions in nature, added to the panch of Esquiline, and the Inter-vallum of the Zodiack, besides the Eclipticke line being opticke, and not mentall, but by the contemplatiue & theoricke part thereof, doth demon∣strate to vs the vegetable circumference, and the ventositie of the Tropicks and whereas our intellectuall, or mincing capreall (according to the Metaphisicks) as you may reade in PLATO's Histriomastix—You conceiue me, sir?

ORANG.

O lord, sir.

CLOVE.

Then comming to the pretty Animall, as Reason long since is fled to animalls, you know, or indeed for the more modellizing, or enamelling,

or rather diamondizing of your subiect, you shall perceiue the Hipothesis, or Galaxia, (whereof the Meteors long since had their initiall inceptions and notions) to be meerely Pithagoricall, Mathematicall, and Aristocraticall— For looke you, sir, there is euer a kinde of concinnitie and species— Let vs turne to our former discourse, for they marke vs not.

FAST.

Masse, yonder 's the knight PVNTARVOLO.

DELI.

And my cousin SOGLIARDO, me thinkes.

MACI.

I, and his familiar that baunts him, the deuill vvith a shi∣ning face.

DELI.

Sogliardo, Pun∣tarvolo, Carlo, 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Let 'hem alone, obserue 'hem not.

SOGL.

Nay, I will haue him, I am resolute for that. By this parch∣ment, gentlemen, I haue beene so toil'd among the Harrots yonder, you will not beleeue, they doe speake i' the strangest language, and giue a man the hardest termes for his money, that euer you knew.

CARL.

But ha' you armes? ha' your armes?

SOGL.

Y faith, I thanke god, I can write my selfe gentlemen now, here's my pattent, it cost me thirtie pound, by this breath.

PVNT.

A very saire coat, well charg'd, and full of armorie.

SOGL.

Nay, it has as much varietie of colours in it, as you haue seene a cost haue, how like you the crest, sir?

PVNT.

I vnderstand it not well, what is't?

SOGL.

Mary, sir, it is your Bore without a head Rampant.

PVNT.

A Bore without a head, that's very rare!

CARL.

I, and rampant too: troth, I commend the Heralds wi••, hee has decyphered him well: A Swine without a head, without braine, wit, any thing indeed, ramping to gentilitie. You can blazon the rest, signior? can you not?

SOGL.

O, I, I haue it in writing here of purpose, it cost me two shil∣lings the tricking.

CARL.

Let's heare, let's heare.

PVNT.

They salute as they meet in the vallie.

It is the most vile, foolish, absurd, palpable, & ridiculous escut∣cheon, that euer this eye survis'd. Saue you, good monsieur FASTIDIVS.

CARL.

Silence, good knight: on, on.

SOGL.

GVRONY, of eight peeces; AZVRE and GVLES, betweene three plates; a CHEV'RON, ••••grailed checkey, OR, VERT, and ERMINES; on a cheefe ARGENT betweene two ANN'LETS, sables; a Bores head, PROPER.

CARL.

How's that? on a cheefe ARGENT?

SOGL.

Here they 〈…〉〈…〉 with Pontar••olo Carlo, and Sogli∣ardo, 〈…〉〈…〉 and Orange, 〈…〉〈…〉.

On a cheefe ARGENT, a Bores head, PROPER betweene two ANN'LETS sables.

CARL.

S'lud, it's a Hogs-cheeke, and puddings in a pewter field this.

SOGL.

How like you 'hem, signior?

PVNT.

Let the word bee, Not without mustard; your crest is very rare, sir.

CARL.

A frying pan to the crest had had no fellow.

FAST.

Intreat your poore friend to walke off a little, signior, I will salute the knight.

CARL.

Come, lap't vp, lap't vp.

FAST.

You are right well encountred, sir, how do's your saire dog?

PVNT.

In reasonable state, sir: what citizen is that you were consor∣ted with? a marchant of any worth?

FAST.

'Tis signior DELIRO, sir.

PVNT.

Salute.

Is it he? Saue you, sir.

DELI.

Good sir PVNTARVOLO.

MACI.

O, what copie of foole would this place minister, to one en∣dew'd with patience, to obserue it?

CARL.

Nay, looke you sir, now you are gentleman, you must carry a more exalted presence, change your mood, and habit, to a more a••stere forme, be exceeding proud, stand vpon your gentilitie, and scorne euery man. Speake nothing humbly, neuer discourse vnder a nobleman, though you ne're saw him butriding to the Starre-chamber, it's all one. Loue no man. Trust no man. Speake ill of no man to his face: nor well of any man behind his backe. Salute fairely on the front, and wish 'hem hang'd vpon the turne. Spread your selfe vpon his bosome publikely, whose heart you would ca••e in priuate. These be principles, thinke on 'hem, I'le come to you againe presently.

PVNT.

Sirra, keepe close; yet not so close: thy breath will thawmy ruffe.

SOGI.

O, good cousin, I am a little busie, how do's my neece? I am to walke with a knight, here.

Act III. Scene V.

FVNGOSO. TAYLOR.

To them.

O He is here, looke you sir, that's the gentleman.

TAIL.

What, he i'the blush-colour'd sattin?

FVNG.

I, he sir: though his sute blush, hee blushes not, looke you, that's the sute, sir: I would haue mine, such a sute without difference, such stuffe, such a wing, such a sleeue, such a skirt, belly, and all; there∣fore, pray you obserue it. Haue you a paire of tables?

FAST.

Why, doe you see, sir? they say I am phantasticall: why, true, I know it, and I pursue my humour still, in contempt of this censorious age. S'light, and a man should doe nothing, but what a sort of stale iudge∣ments about this towne will approue in him, he were a sweet asse: I'ld beg him yfaith. I ne're knew any more find fault with a fashion, then they that knew not how to put themselues in to't. For mine owne part, so I please mine owne appetite, I am carelesse what the fustie world speakes of me. Puh.

FVNG.

Doe you marke, how it hangs at the knee there?

TAIL.

I warrant you, sir.

FVNG.

For gods sake, doe, note all: doe you see the collar, sir?

TAIL.

Feare nothing, it shall not differ in a stitch, sir.

FVNG.

Pray heau'n, it doe not, you'le make these linings serue? and helpe me to a chapman for the out-side, will you?

TAIL.

I'le doe my best, sir: you'le put it off presently?

FVNG.

I, goe with mee to my chamber, you shall haue it—but make haste of it, for the loue of a customer, for I'le fit i'my old sute, or else lie a bed, and reade the Arcadia, till you haue done.

CARL.

O, if euer you were strucke with a iest, gallants, now, now. I doe vsher the most strange peece of militarie profession, that euer was dis∣couer'd in Insula Paulina.

FAST.

Where? where?

PVNT.

What is he, for a creature?

CARL.

A pimpe, a pimpe, that I haue obseru'd yonder, the rarest su∣perficies of a humour; hee comes euery morning to emptie his hangs in Paules here: and offers vp some fiue, or sixe Hecatomb's of faces, and sighes, and away againe. Here he comes; nay, walke, walke, be not seene to note him, and we shall haue excellent sport.

Act III. Scene VI.

SHIFT.

To them.

PVN.

S'Lid, hee vented a sigh••'ne now, I thought he would haue blowne vp the church.

CAR.

O, you shall haue him giue a number of those false fires ere hee depart.

FAST.

See, now he is expostulating with his rapier! looke, looke.

CARL.

Did you euer, in your daies, obserue better passion ouer a hilt?

PVNT.

Except it were in the person of a cutlers boy, or that the fel∣low were nothing but vapour, I should thinke it impossible.

CARL.

See, againe, he claps his sword o'the head, as who should say, well, goe to.

FAST.

O violence! I wonder the blade can containe it selfe, being so prouokt.

CARL.

With that, the moody squire thumpt his brest, Andrear'd his eyen to heauen, ••or reuenge.

SOGL.

Troth, and you be good gentlemen let's make 'hem friends, and take vp the matter, betweene his rapier, and him.

CARL.

Nay, if you intend that, you must lay downe the matter, for this rapier (it seemes) is in the nature a hanger on, and the good gentle∣man would happily be rid of him.

FAST.

By my faith, and 'tis to be suspected, I'le aske him.

MACI.

O, here's rich stuffe, for lifes sake, let vs goe.

A man would wish himselfe a senselesse pillar, Rather then view these monstrous prodigies: Nil habet inf••elix paupertas durius in se, Quàm quòd ridiculos homines facit—

FAST.

Signior.

SHIFT.

At your seruice.

FAST.

Will you sell your rapier?

CARL.

Sbloud, he is turn'd wild vpon the question, hee lookes as hee had seene a serjeant.

SHIFT.

Sell my rapier? now fate blesse me.

PVNT.

Amen.

SHIFT.

You ask't me, if I would sell my rapier, sir?

FAST.

I did indeed.

SHIFT.

Now, lord haue mercy vpon me.

PVNT.

Amen, I say still.

SHIFT.

S'lud sir, what should you behold in my face, sir, that should moue you (as they say, sir) to aske me, sir, if I would sell my rapier?

FAST.

Nay (let me pray you, sir) bee not mou'd: I protest, I would rather haue beene silent, then any way offensiue, had I knowne your nature.

SHIFT.

Sell my rapier? 'ods lid! Nay, sir (for mine owne part) as I am a man that has seru'd in causes, or so, so I am not apt to injure any gentle∣man in the degree of falling foule, but (sell my rapier?) I will tell you sir, I haue seru'd with this foolish rapier, where some of vs dare not appeare in haste, I name no man: but let that passe. (Sell my rapier?) death to my lungs. This rapier, sir, has trauail'd by my side, sir, the best part of France and the low Countrey: I haue seene V••ishing Brill, and the H••ghe, with this rapier, sir, in my lord of Leysters time: and (by gods will) he that should offer to disrapier me now, I would— Looke you sir, you presume to be a gentleman of sort, and so likewise your friends here, if you haue any dis∣position to trauell, for the sight of seruice, or so, one, two, or all of you, I can lend you letters to di••ers officers and commanders in the low Coun∣tries, that shall for my cause doe you all the good offices, that shall pertaine or belong to gentlemen of your— Please you to shew the bountie of your minde, sir, to impart some ten groates, or halfe a crowne to our vse, till our abilitie be of grow'th to returne it, and we shall thinke our selfe— Sbloud! sell my rapier?

SOGL.

I pray you, what said he, signior, hee's a proper man.

FAST.

Mary, he tells me, if I please to shew the bountie of my mind, to impart some ten groats to his vse, or so.

PVNT.

Breake his head, and giue it him.

CARL.

I thought he had beene playing o' the Iewes trump, I.

SHIFT.

My rapier? no sir: my rapier is my guard, my defence, my re∣uenew, my honour: (if you cannot impart, be secret, I beseech you) and I will maintaine it, where there is a graine of dust, or a drop of water.

(Hard is the choise when the valiant must eat their armes, or clem:) Sell my rapier? no, my deare, I will not bee diuorc't from thee, yet, I haue euer found thee true as steele—and (you cannot impart sir?) Saue you gen∣tlemen: (neuerthelesse if you haue a fancie to it, sir.)

FAST.

Pr'y thee away: is Signior DELIRO departed?

CAR.

Ha'you seene a pimpe out-face his owne wants better?

SOG.

I commend him, that can dissemble 'hem so well.

PVNT.

True, and hauing no better a cloke for it, then he has neither.

FAST.

Gods precious, what mischieuous lucke is this! adiew gen∣tlemen.

PVNT.

Whither? in such haste, Monsieur FASTIDIVS?

FAST.

After my marchant, signior DELIRO, sir.

CARL.

O hinder him not, hee may hap lose his tide, a good flounder i'faith.

ORAN.

Harke you, signior WHIFFE, a word with you.

CARL.

Orange and Clove call Shif•• aside.

How? signior WHIFFE?

ORAN.

What was the difference betweene that gallant that's gone, and you, sir.

SHIFT.

No difference: he would ha'giu'n mee fiue pound for my ra∣pier, and I refus'd it; that's all.

CLOVE.

O, was't no otherwise? wee thought you had beene vpon some termes.

SHIFT.

No other then you saw, sir.

CLOVE.

Adieu, good Master APPLE-IOHN.

CARL.

How? WHIFFE, and APPLE-IOHN too? Heart, what'll you say if this be the appendix, or labell to both youd' indentures?

PVNT.

It may be.

CARL.

Resolue vs of it, IANVS, thou that look'st euery way: or thou HE••CVLES, that hast trauail'd all countries.

PVNT.

Nay, CARLO, spend not time in inuocations now, 'tis late.

CARL.

Signior, here's a gentleman desirous of your name, sir.

SHIFT.

Sir, my name is CAVALIER SHIFT: I am knowne sufficient∣ly in this walke, sir.

CARL.

SHIFT? I heard your name varied e'en now, as I take it.

SHIFT.

True, sir, it pleases the world (as I am her excellent Tabbacco∣nist) to giue me the stile of signior WHIFFE: as I am a poore esquire about the towne here, they call mee Master APPLE-IOHN. Varierie of good names does well, sir.

CARL.

I, and good parts, to make those good names: out of which I imagine yond' bils to be yours.

SHIFT.

Sir, if I should denie the manuscripts, I were worthie to be banisht the middle I'le, for euer.

CARL.

I take your word, sir: this gentleman has subscrib'd to 'hem, and is most desirous to become your pupill. Mary you must vse expediti∣on. Signior Insulso Sogliardo, this is the professor.

SOGL.

In good time, sir, nay, good sir, house your head, doe you pro∣fesse those sleights in tabacco?

SHIFT.

I, doe more then professe, sir, and (if you please to bee a pra∣ctitioner) I wil vndertake in one fortnight to bring you, that you shal take it plausibly in any ordinarie, theatre, or the tilt-yard, if need be, i'the most popular assembly that is.

PVNT.

But you cannot bring him to the whiffe so soone?

SHIFT.

Yes, as soone, sir, hee shall receiue the first, second, and third whiffe, if it please him, and (vpon the receit) take his horse, drinke his three cups of Canarie, and expose one at Hounslow, a second at Stanes, and a third at Bogshot.

CARL.

Baw-waw!

SOGL.

You will not ser••e mee, sir, will you•• I'le giue you more then countenance.

SHIFT.

Pardon me, sir, I doe scorne to serue any man.

CARL.

Who? he serue? Sbloud he keepes high men, and low men, he; he has a faire liuing at Fullam.

SHIFT.

But in the nature of a fellow, I'le bee your follower, if you please.

SOGL.

Sir, you shall stay, and dine with mee, and if wee can agree, weele not part in haste: I am verie bountifull to men of qualitie. Where shall we goe, signior?

PVNT.

Your Miter is your best house.

SHIFT.

I can make this dogge take as many whiffes as I list, and hee shall retaine, or efume them at my pleasure.

PVNT.

By your patience, follow me, fellowes.

SOGL.

Sir, PVNTARVOLO!

PVNT.

Pardon mee, my dogge shall not eate in his companie for a million.

CARL.

Nay, bee not you amaz'd, signior WHIFFE, what e're that stiffeneckt gentleman say's.

SOGL.

No, for you doe not know the humour of the Dogge, as wee doe: where shall we dine, CARLO? I would faine goe to one of these or∣dinaries, now I am a gentleman.

CARL.

So you may, were you neuer at any yet?

SOGL.

No faith, but they say, there resorts your most choise gallants.

CARL.

True, and the fashion is, when any stranger comes in among'st 'hem, they all stand vp and stare at him, as he were some vnknowne beast, brought out of Affrick, but that'll bee help't with a good aduenturous face, you must be impudent ynough, sit downe, and vse no respect; when any thing's propounded aboue your capacitie, smile at it, make two or three faces, and 'tis excellent, they 'le thinke you haue trauail'd: though you argue a whole day in silence thus, and discourse in nothing but laugh∣ter, 'twill passe. Onely (now and then) giue fire, discharge a good full oth, and offer a great wager, 'twill be admirable.

SOGL.

I warrant you, I am resolute: come, good signior, there's a poore french crowne, for your ordinarie.

SHIFT.

It comes well, for I had not so much as the least portcullice of come before.

GREX.

MIT.

I trauell with another obiection, signior, which I feare will bee enforc'd against the author, ere I can be deliuer'd of it.

COR.

What's that, sir?

MIT.

That the argument of his Comoedie might haue beene of some other nature, as of a duke to be in loue with a countesse, and that coun∣tesse to bee in loue with the dukes sonne, and the sonne to loue the ladies waiting maid: some such crosse wooing, with a clowne to their seruing∣man, better then to be thus neere, and familiarly allied to the time.

COR.

You say well, but I would faine heare one of these autumne-judgements define once, Quid sit Comoedia? if he cannot, let him content himselfe with CICEROS definition (till hee haue strength to propose to himselfe a better) who would haue a Comoedie to be Imitatio vitae, Speculum consuetudinis, Imago veritatis; a thing throughout pleasant, and ridiculous, and accommodated to the correction of manners: if the maker haue fail'd in any particle of this, they may worthily taxe him, but if not, why— be you (that are for them) silent, as I will bee for him; and giue way to the actors.

Act III. Scene VII.

SORDIDO, HINE.

〈1 paragraph〉〈1 paragraph〉

NAy, gods precious, if the weather and season bee so respectlesse, that beggers shall liue as well as their betters; and that my hun∣ger, and thirst for riches, shall not make them hunger and thirst with pouertie; that my sleepes shall be brokes, and their hearts not bro∣ken; that my coffers shall bee full, and yet care; theirs emptie, and yet merry! Tis time, that a crosse should beare flesh and bloud, since flesh and bloud cannot beare this crosse.

GREX.

MIT.

What, will he hang himselfe?

COR.

Faith I, it seemes his Prognostication has not kept touch with him, and that makes him despaire.

MIT.

Beshrow me, he will be out of his humour then, indeed.

SOR.

Tut, these star-monger knaues, who would trust 'hem? one saies, darke and rainy, when 'tis as cleere as christall; another saies, tempestuous blasts, and stormes, and 'twas as calme as a milke-bowle; here bee sweet rascals for a man to credit his whole fortunes with: You skie-staring cocks-combs you, you fat braines, out vpon you; you are good for no∣thing

but to sweat night-caps, and make rug-gownes deare! You lear∣ned men, and haue not a legion of deuils, a vostre seruice! a vostre seruice! by heauen, I thinke I shall die a better scholler then they! but soft, how now, sirra.

HINE.

Here's a letter come from your sonne, sir.

SORD.

From my sonne, sir? what would my sonne, sir? some good newes, no doubt.

Sweet and deare father (desiring you first to send mee your bles∣sing, which is more worth to me then gold or siluer) I desire you like∣wise to be aduertised, that this Shrouetide (contrary to custome) we vse alwaies to haue reuels; which is indeed dancing, and makes an excellent shew in truth; especially if wee gentlemen bee well attir'd; which our seniors note, and thinke the better of our fathers, the better we are maintain'd, and that they shall know if they come vp, and haue any thing to doe in the law: therefore, good father, these are (for your owne sake as well as mine) to re-desire you; that you let me not want, that which is fit for the setting vp of our name, in the hono∣rable volume of gentilitie, that I may say to our calumniators, with TVLLIE, Ego sum ortus domus meae, tu occasus tuae. And thus (not doubting of your fatherly beneuolence) I humbly aske you blessing, and pray god to blesse you.

Yours, if his owne.

How's this? Yours, if his owne? is he not my sonne, except he be his owne sonne? Belike this is some new kinde of subscription the gallants vse. Wel, wherefore doest thou stay, knaue? Away: goe. Here's a letter indeede; ie••els? and beneuolence? is this a weather to send beneuolence? or is this a season to reuell in? Slid the deuil and all takes part to vexe me, I thinke! this letter would neuer haue come now else, now, now, when the sunne shines, and the aire thus cleere. Soule, if this hold, we shall shortly haue an excellent crop of corne spring out of the high waies: the streets, and houses of the towne will be hid with the ranknesse of the fruits, that grow therein spight of good husbandry. Goe to, I'le preuent the ••ight of it, come as quickly as it can, I will preuent the sight of it. I haue this reme∣die, heauen. Stay; I'le trie the paine thus a little, Ô, nothing, nothing. Well now, shall my sonne gaine a beneuolence by my death? or any body be the better for my gold, or so forth? No, aliue, I kept it from 'hem, and (dead) my ghost shall walke about it, and preserue it, my son and daugh∣ter shall starue ere they touch it, I haue bid it as deep as hell from the sight of heauen, and to it I goe now.

Falls off.

Act III. Scene VIII.

RVSTICI.

RVST. 1.

To him.

AYe me, what pittifull sight is this! help, help, help.

RVST. 2.

How now? what's the matter?

RVST. 1.

O, here's a man has hang'd himselfe, helpe to get him againe.

RVST. 2.

Hang'd himselfe? Slid carry him afore a iustice, 'tis chance medley, o' my word.

RVST. 3.

How now, what's here to doe?

RVST. 4.

How comes this?

RVST. 2.

One has executed himselfe, contrary to order of law, and by my consent he shall answer't.

RVST. 5.

Would he were in case, to answere it.

RVST. 1.

Stand by, he recouers, giue him breath.

SORD.

Oh.

RVST. 5.

Masse, 'twas well you vvent the foot-way, neighbour.

RVST. 1.

I, and I had not cut the halter.

SORD.

How! cut the halter? Aye me, I am vndone, I am vndone.

RVST. 2.

Mary, if you had not beene vndone, you had beene hang'd, I can tell you.

SORD.

You thred-bare horse-bread-eating rascals, if you vvould needes haue beene meddling, could you not haue vntied it, but you must out it? and in the midst too! Aye me.

RVST. 1.

Out on me, 'tis the catterpiller SORDIDO! how cursed are the poore, that the viper was blest, vvith this good fortune?

RVST. 2.

Nay, how accurst art thou, that art cause to the curse of the poore?

RVST. 3.

I, and to saue so wretched a caytife?

RVST. 4.

Curst be thy fingers that loos'd him.

RVST. 2.

Some desperate furie possesse thee, that thou maist hang thy selfe too.

RVST. 5.

Neuer maist thou be sau'd, that sau'd so damn'd a monster.

SORDID.

What curses breathe these men! how haue my deeds Made my lookes differ from another mans, That they should thus detest, and lothe my life! Out on my wretched humour, it is that Makes me thus monstrous in true humane eyes. Pardon me (gentle friends) I'le make faire mends For my foule errors past, and twenty-fold Restore to all men, vvhat with vvrong I rob'd them: My barnes, and garners shall stand open still To all the poore that come, and my best graine

Be made almes-bread, to feed halfe-famisht mouthes. Though hither to amongst you I haue liu'd, Like an unsauourie muck-hill to my selfe, Yet now, my gather'd heapes being spread abroad, Shall turne to better, and more fruitfull vses. Blesse then this man, curse him no more for sauing My life, and soule together. O, how deeply The bitter curses of the poore doe pierce! I am by wonder chang'd; come in with me And witnesse my repentance: now I proue, "No life is blest, that is not grac't with loue.

RVST. 2.

O miracle! see vvhen a man ha's grace!

RVST. 3.

Had't not beene pitty, so good a man should haue beene cast away?

RVST. 2.

Well, I'le get our clarke put his conuersion in the Acts, and Monuments.

RVST. 4.

Doe, for I warrant him hee's a Martyr.

RVST.

O god, how he wept, if you mark't it! did you see how the teares trill'd?

RVST. 5.

Yes, beleeue me, like master vicars bowles vpon the greene, for all the world.

3. or 4.

O neighbour, god's blessing o' your heart, neighbour, 'twas a good gratefull deed.

GREX.

COR.

How now, MITIS? what's that you consider so seriously?

MIT.

Troth, that which doth essentially please me, the vvarping con∣dition of this greene, and soggy multitude: but in good saith, signior, your author hath largely out-stript my expectation in this Scene, I will liberal∣ly confesse it. For, when I saw SORDIDO so desperately intended, I thought I had had a hand of him, then.

COR.

What? you suppos'd he should haue hung himselfe, indeed?

MIT.

I did, and had fram'd my obiection to it ready, which may yet be very fitly vrg'd, and with some necessity: for though his purpos'd vio∣lence lost th' effect, and extended not to death, yet the intent and horror of the obiect, was more then the nature of a Comoedie vvill in any sort admit.

COR.

I? vvhat thinke you of PLAVTVS, in his Comoedie, called Cistel∣laria, there? vvhere he brings in ALCESIMARCHVS vvith a drawne sword ready to kill himselfe, and as hee is e'ne fixing his brest vpon it, to bee re∣strain'd from his resolu'd outrage, by SILENIVM, and the bawd: is not his authoritie of power to giue our Scene approbation?

MIT.

Sir, I haue this only euasion left me, to say, I thinke it bee so in∣deed, your memorie is happier then mine: but I wonder, what engine hee vvill vse to bring the rest out of their humours!

COR.

That will appeare anon, neuer preoccupie your imagination

withall. Let your mind keepe companie with the Scene still, which now remoues it selfe from the countrey, to the court. Here comes MACILEN∣TE, and signior BRISKE, freshly suted, lose not your selfe, for now the Epitasis, or busie part of our subiect, is in act.

Act III. Scene IX.

MACILENTE, BRISKE, CINEDO, SAVIOLINA.

FAST.

WEll, now, signior MACILENTE, you are not onely welcome to the court but also to my mistris with∣drawing chamber: Boy, get me some tabacco, I'le but goe in, and shew I am here, and come to you presently, sir.

MACI.

What's that he said? by heauen, I markt him not: My thoughts, and I, were of another world. I was admiring mine owne out-side here, To thinke what priuiledge, and palme it beares Here, in the court! Be a man ne're so vile In wit, in judgement, manners, or what else; If he can purchase but a silken couer, He shall not only passe, but passe regarded: Whereas, let him be poore, and meanely clad, Though ne're so richly parted; you shall haue A fellow (that knowes nothing but his beefe, Or how to rince his clammy guts in beere) Will take him by the shoulders, or the throat, And kicke him downe the staires. Such is the state Of vertue, in bad clothes! ha, ha, ha, ha, That raiment should be in such high request! How long should I be, ere I should put off To the lord Chancelors tombe, or the Shriues posts? By heauen (I thinke) a thousand, thousand yeere. His grauitie, his wisedome, and his faith, To my dread Soueraigne (graces that suruiue him) These I could well endure to reuerence, But not his tombe: no more then I'ld commend The chappell organ, for the guilt without, Or this base violl, for the varnisht face.

FAST.

I feare I haue made you stay somewhat long, sir, but is my ta∣bacco readie, boy?

CINE.

I, sir.

FAST.

Giue me, my mistris is vpon comming, you shall see her pre∣sently, sir,

(Tab.)

you'le say you neuer accosted a more piercing wit. This ••abacco is not dryed, boy, or else the pipe's defectiue. Oh, your wits of

Italie are nothing comparable to her! her braine's a verie quiuer of iests! and she do's dart them abroad with that sweete loose, and iudiciall aime, that you would—here she comes sir.

MACI.

She is seene and goes in againe.

'Twas time, his inuention had beene bogd else.

SAVI.

Giue me my fanne there.

MACI.

How now, Monsieur BRISKE?

FAST.

A kind of affectionate reuerence strikes mee with a cold shiue∣ring (me thinkes.)

MACI.

I like such tempers well, as stand before their mistresses with feare and trembling, and before their maker, like impudent mountaines.

FAST.

By this hand, I'ld spend twentie pound my vauting-horse stood here now, she might see me doe but one tricke?

MACI.

Why, do's she loue actiuitie?

CINE.

Or if you had but your long stockings on, to be dancing a gal∣liard, as she comes by.

FAST.

I eyther. O, these stirring humours make ladies mad with de∣sire•• shee comes. My good GENIVS embolden me, boy, the pipe quickly.

MACI.

What? will he giue her musicke?

FAST.

A second good morrow to my faire mistresse.

SAVI.

Faire seruant, I'le thanke you a day hence, when the date of your salutation comes forth.

FAST.

How, like you that answere? is't not admirable?

MACI.

I were a simple courtier, if I could not admire trifles, sir.

FAST.

He talkes, and takes tabacco betweene.

Troth, sweet ladie, I shall

(Tab.)

be prepar'd to giue you thanks for those thankes, and

(Tab.)

studie more officious, and obsequious re∣gards

(Tab.)

to your faire beauties.

(Tab.)

mend the pipe, boy.

MACI.

I ne're knew tabacco taken as a parenthesis, before.

FAST.

Fore god (sweete ladie) beleeue it, I doe honour the meanest rush in this chamber, for your loue.

SAVI.

I, you need not tell mee that, sir, I doe thinke, you doe prize a rush, before my loue.

MACI.

Is this the wonder of nations?

FAST.

O, by this ayre, pardon me, I said, for your loue, by this light: but it is the accustomed sharpnesse of your ingenuitie, sweete mistresse, to—Masse your violl's new strung, methinkes.

MACI.

He takes downe the violl, and playes betweene.

Ingenuitie. I see his ignorance will not suffer him to slander her, which he had done most notably, if he had said wit, for ingenuitie, as he meant it.

FAST.

By the soule of musicke, ladie (hum, hum.)

SAVI.

Would we might heare it once.

FAST.

I doe more adore, and admire your (hum, hum) predominant perfections, then (hum, hum) euer I shall haue power, and facultie to ex∣presse (hum.)

SAVI.

Vpon the violl de Gambo, you meane?

FAST.

It's miserably out of tune, by this hand.

SAVI.

Nay, rather by the fingers.

MACI.

It makes good harmonie with her wit.

FAST.

Sweet ladie, tune it. Boy, some tabacco.

MACI.

Tabacco againe? he do's court his mistresse with verie excee∣ding good changes.

FAST.

Signior MACILENTE, you take none, sir?

(Tab.)

MACI.

No, vnlesse I had a Mistresse, signior, it were a great indecorum for me to take tabacco.

FAST.

How like you her wit?

(Tab.)

MACI.

Her ingenuitie is excellent, sir.

FAST.

You see the subiect of her sweet fingers, there?

(Tab.)

Oh, shee tickles it so, that

(Tab.)

shee makes it laugh most diuinely;

(Tab.)

I'le tell you a good iest now, and yourselfe shall say it's a good one: I haue wisht my selfe to be that instrument (I thinke) a thousand times, and not so few, by heauen

(Tab.)

MACI.

Not vnlike, sir: but how? to be cas'd vp, and hung by on the wall?

FAST.

O, no, sir, to be in vse I assure you; as your iudicious eyes may testifie.

(Tab.)

SAVI.

Here, seruant, if you will play, come.

FAST.

Instantly, sweet ladie.

(Tab.)

In good faith, here's most diuine tabacco!

SAVI.

Nay, I cannot stay to dance after your pipe.

FAST.

Good! nay, deare ladie, stay: by this sweete smoake, I thinke your wit be all fire.

(Tab.)

MACI.

And, hee's the Salamander belongs to it.

SAVI.

Is your tabacco perfum'd, seruant? that you sweare by the sweet smoke?

FAST.

Still more excellent! (before heauen, and these bright lights) I thinke

(Tab.)

you are made of ingenuitie, I.

(Tab.)

MACI.

True, as your discourse is: Ô abominable!

FAST.

Will your ladiship take any?

SAVI.

O, peace I pray you; I loue not the breath of a woodcockes head.

FAST.

Meaning my head, ladie?

SAVI.

Not altogether so, sir; but (as it were fatall to their follies that thinke to grace themselues with taking tabacco, when they want better entertainment) you see your pipe beares the true forme of a wood∣cockes head.

FAST.

O admirable simile!

SAVI.

'Tis best leauing of you in admiration, sir.

MACI.

Are these the admired lady-wits, that hauing so good a plaine-song, can runne no better diuision vpon it? S'heart, all her iests are of the stampe, (March was fifteene yeres ago.) Is this the Comet, Monsieur FA∣STADIVS, that your gallants wonder at so?

FAST.

Hart of a gentleman, to neglect mee afore presence thus! Sweet sir, I beseech you be silent in my disgrace. By the Muses, I was neuer in so vile a humour in my life, and her wit was at the ••loud too. Report it not for a million, good sir; let me be so farre endear'd to your loue.

GREX.

MIT.

What followes next, signior CORDATVS? this gallants hu∣mour is almost spent, me thinkes, it ebbes apace, with this contrarie breath of his mistresse.

COR.

O, but it will ••low againe for all this, till there come a generall drought of humour among all our actors, and then, I feare not but his wil fall as low as any. See, who presents himselfe here!

MIT.

What, i'the old case?

COR.

Yfaith, which makes it, the more pittifull, you vnderstand where the Scene is?