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COme, gentles. Signior, you are sufficiently instructed.
Who, I, sir?
No, this gentleman. But stay, I take thought how to be∣stow my dogge, he is no competent attendant for the presence.
Masse, that's true indeed, knight, you must not carrie him into the presence.
I know it, and I (like a dull beast) forgot to bring one of my cormorants to attend me.
Why, you're best leaue him at the porters lodge.
Not so: his worth is too well knowne amongst them, to bee forth-comming.
Slight, how'll you doe then?
I must leaue him with one, that is ignorant of his qualitie, if I will haue him to be safe. And see! Here comes one that wil carrie coales, ergo, will hold my dogge. My honest friend, may I commit the tuition of this dogge to thy prudent care?
You may, if you please, sir.
Pray thee let me find thee here at my returne: it shall not bee long, till I will ease thee of thy imployment, and please thee. Forth, gentles.
Why, but will you leaue him with so slight command, and in∣firse no more charge, vpon the fellow?
Charge? no; there were no policie in that: that were to let him know the value of the gemme he holds, and so, to tempt fraile nature against her disposition. No, pray thee let thy honestie be sweet, as it shall be short.
Yes, sir.
But harke you gallants, and chiefely Monsieur BRISKE. When we come in eye-shot, or presence of this ladie, let not other mat∣ters carrie vs from our proiect: but (if wee can) single her forth to some place—
I warrant you.
And bee not too suddaine, but let the deuice induce it selfe with good circumstance. On.
Is this the way? good truth, here be fine hangings.
Honestie sweet, and short? mary it shall, sir, doubt you not: for euen at this instant if one would giue mee twentie pounds, I would not deliuer him; there's for the sweet; but now, if any man come offer me but two pence, he shall haue him; there's for the short now. Slid, what a mad humorous gentleman is this to leaue his dogge with me? I could run away with him now, and hee were worth any thing.
Come on, signior, now prepare to court this all-witted ladie, most naturally, and like your selfe.
Faith, and you say the word, I'le begin to her in tabacco.
O, fie on't: no: you shall begin with, How does my sweet ladie? or, Why are you so melancholy, Madame? though shee bee verie merrie, it's all one: be sure to kisse your hand often inough; pray for her health, and tell her, how, more then most faire she is. Screw your face at one side thus, and protest; let her fleere, and looke a skaunce, and hide her teeth with her fanne, when she laughs a fit, to bring her into more matter, that's no∣thing: you must talke forward (though it be without sense, so it be with∣out blushing) 'tis most court-like, and well.
But shall I not vse tabacco at all?
O, by no meanes, 'twill but make your breath suspected, and that you vse it onely to confound the rankenesse of that.
Nay, I'le be aduis'd, sir, by my friends.
Gods my life, see, where sir PVNTARS dog is.
I would the gentleman would returne for his follower here, I'le leaue him to his fortunes else.
S'heart, 'twere the onely true iest in the world to poison him now: ha? by this hand, I'le doe it, if I could but get him of the fellow. Signior SOGLIARDO, walke aside, and thinke vpon some deuice, to enter∣taine the ladie with.
So I doe, sir.
How now, mine honest friend? whose dog-keeper art thou?
Dogge-keeper, sir? I hope I scorne that yfaith.
Why? do'st thou not keepe a dogge?
Sir, now I doe, and now I doe not: I thinke this be sweet and short. Make me his dogge-keeper?
This is excellent, aboue expectation: nay stay, sir, you'ld bee trauailing, but I'le giue you a dramme shall shorten your voyage: here. So sir, I'le be bold to take my leaue of you. Now to the Turkes court in the deuils name, for you shall neuer goe o'gods name. SOGLIARDO, come.
I ha' 't ysaith now, will sting it.
Take heed you leese it not, signior, ere you come there: pre∣serue it.
GREX.
CORD.How like you this first exploit of his?
MITIS.O, a piece of true enuie: but I expect the issue of the other deuice.
CORD.Here they come, will make it appeare.
WHy, I thought, sir PVNTARVOLO, you had bin gone your voyage?
Deare, and most amiable ladie, your diuine beauties doe bind me to those offices, that I cannot depart when I would.
'Tis most court-like spoken, sir: but how might we do to haue a sight of your dogge, and cat?
His dogge is in the court, ladie.
And not your cat? how dare you trust her behind you, sir?
Troth, madame, shee hath sore eyes, and shee doth keepe her
chamber: mary I haue left vnder sufficient guard, there are two of my followers to attend her.
I'le giue you some water for her eyes: when doe you goe, sir?
Certes, sweet ladie, I know not.
He doth stay the rather, madame, to present you acute iudge∣ment with so courtly, and wel-parted a gentleman, as yet your lady-ship hath neuer seene.
What's hee, gentle Monsieur BRISKE? not that gentleman?
No ladie, this is a kinsman to iustice Silence.
Pray' sir, giue me leaue to report him: he's a gentleman (ladie) of that rare and admirable facultie, as (I protest) I know not his like in Europe: hee is exceedingly valiant, an excellent scholler, and so exactly trauail'd, that hee is able in discourse, to deliuer you a modell of any prin∣ces court in the world: speakes the languages with that puritie of phrase, and facilitie of accent, that it breeds astonishment: his wit, the most exu∣berant, and (aboue wonder) pleasant, of all that euer entred the concaue of this eue.
'Tis most true, ladie: mary, he is no such excellent proper man.
His trauailes haue chang'd his complexion, madame.
O, sir PVNTARVOLO, you must thinke, euery man was not borne to haue my seruant BRISKES feature.
But that which transcends all, ladie; hee doth so peerelessely imitate any manner of person for gesture, action, passion, or whate∣uer—
I, especially a rusticke, or a clowne, madame, that it is not pos∣sible for the sharpest-sighted wit (in the world) to discerne any sparkes of the gentleman in him, when he does.
O, Monsieur BRISKE, be not so tyrannous to confine all wits within the compasse of your owne: not find the sparkes of a gentleman in him, if he be a gentleman?
No in truth (sweet ladie) I beleeue you cannot.
Doe you beleeue so? why, I can find sparkes of a gentleman in you, sir.
I, he is a gentleman, madame, and a reueller.
Indeed, I thinke I haue seene your ladiship at our reuels.
Like enough, sir: but would I might see this wonder you talke of: may one haue a sight of him, for any reasonable summe?
Yes, madame, he will arriue presently.
What, and shall we see him clowne it?
I faith (sweet ladie) that you shall: see, here he comes.
This is he! pray obserue him, ladie.
Be shrew me, he clownes it properly indeed.
Nay, marke his courtship.
How does my sweet ladie? hote, and moyst? beautifull and lustie? ha?
Beautifull, and it please you, sir, but not lustie.
O ho, ladie; it pleases you to say so in truth: and how does my sweet ladie? in health? Bonaroba, quaeso, que nouelles? que nouells? sweet creature.
O excellent: why gallants, is this hee that cannot bee deci∣pher'd? they were verie bleare-witted, yfaith, that could not discerne the gentleman in him.
But, doe you, in earnest, ladie?
Doe I, sir? why, if you had any true court-iudgement in the car∣riage of his eye, and that inward power that formes his countenance, you might perceiue his counterfeiting as cleere, as the noone-day: Alas— Nay, if you would haue tryed my wit, indeed, you should neuer haue told me he was a gentleman, but presented him for a true clowne indeede; and then haue seene if I could haue decipher'd him.
Fore god, her ladiship sayes true (knight:) but does he not af∣fect the clowne most naturally, mistresse?
O, shee cannot but affirme that, out of the bountie of her iudgement.
Nay, out of doubt hee does well, for a gentleman, to imitate; but I warrant you, he becomes his natural carriage of the gentleman, much better then his clownerie.
'Tis strange, in truth, her ladiship should see so farre into him.
I, is't not?
Faith, as easily as may be: not decipher him, quoth you?
Good sadnesse, I wonder at it!
Why, has she decipher'd him, gentlemen?
O, most miraculously, and beyond admiration!
Is't possible?
Shee hath gather'd most infallible signes of the gentleman in him, that's certaine.
Why, gallants, let mee laugh at you, a little: was this your de∣uice, to trie my iudgement in a gentleman?
Nay, ladie, doe not scorne vs, though you haue this gift of per∣spicacie aboue others: What if hee should bee no gentleman now, but a clowne indeed, ladie?
How thinke you of that? would not your ladiship bee out of your humour?
O, but shee knowes it is not so.
What if he were not a man, yee may as well say? nay, if your worships could gull me so, indeed, you were wiser then you are taken for.
In good faith, ladie, hee is a verie perfect clowne, both by fa∣ther, and mother: that I'le assure you.
O, sir, you are verie pleasurable.
Nay, doe but looke on his hand, and that shall resolue you: looke you, ladie, what a palme here is.
Tut, that was with holding the plough.
The plough! did you discerne any such thing in him, madame?
Faith no, she saw the gentleman as bright, as at noon-day, she: shee decipher'd him at first.
Troth, I am sorrie your ladiships sight should be so suddain∣ly strooke.
O, you're goodly beagles!
What, is she gone?
Nay, stay, sweet ladie, que nouelles? que nouelles?
Out, you foole, you.
Shee's out of her humour yfaith.
Nay, let's follow it while 'tis hot, gentlemen.
Come, on mine honour wee shall make her blush in the pre∣sence: my splene is great with laughter.
Your laughter wil be a child of a feeble life, I beleeue, sir. Come, signior, your lookes are too deiected, mee thinkes: why mixe you not mirth with the rest?
By gods will, this sute frets me at the soule. I'le haue it alter'd to morrow, sure.
I Am come to the court, to meet with my Countenance SOGLIARDO: poore men must be glad of such countenance, when they can get no better. Wel. Need may insult vpon a man, but it shal neuer make him despaire of consequence. The world wil say, tis base: tush, base! 'tis base to liue vnder the earth, not base to liue aboue it, by any meanes.
The poore ladie is most miserably out of her humour, yfaith.
There was neuer so wittie a iest broken, at the tilt of all the court-wits christen'd.
O, this applause taints it, fouly.
I thinke, I did my part in courting. O! Resolution!
Aye me, my dogge.
Where is hee?
Gods precious, goe seeke for the fellow, good signior.
Here, here I left him.
Why, none was here when we came in now, but CAVALIER SHIFT, enquire of him.
Did you see sir PVNTARVOLO'S dogge here, Caualier, since you came?
His dog sir? he may looke his dog, sir, I saw none of his dog, sir.
Vpon my life, he hath stol'ne your dogge, sir, and beene hir'd to it by some that haue ventur'd with you: you may gesse by his peremp∣torie answeres.
Not vnlike; for he hath beene a notorious thiefe by his owne confession. Sirrah, where is my dogge?
Charge mee with your dogge, sir? I ha' none of your dog, sir.
Villaine, thou lyest.
Lie, sir? S'bloud, y' are but a man, sir.
Rogue, and thiefe, restore him.
Take heed, sir PVNTARVOLO, what you doe: heele beare no coales, I can tell you (o' my word.)
This is rare.
It's mar'le hee stabs you not: by this light, he hath stab'd forty, for forty times lesse matter, I can tell you, of my knowledge.
I wil make thee stoope, thou abiect.
Make him stoop, sir! gentlemen, pacifi•• him or hee'le be kill'd.
Is he so tall a man?
Tall a man? if you loue his life, stand betwixt 'hem: make him stoope!
My dogge, villaine, or I will hang thee: thou hast confest rob∣beries, and other fellonious acts, to this gentleman thy Countenance—
I'le beare no witnesse.
And, without my dogge, I will hang thee, for them.
What? kneele to thine enemies?
Pardon me, good sir; god is my witnesse, I neuer did robberie in all my life.
O, sir PVNTARVOLO, your dogge lies giuing vp the ghost in the wood-yard.
Heart! is he not dead, yet?
O, my dog, born to disastrous fortune! pray you conduct me, sir.
How? did you neuer doe any robberie, in your life?
O, this is good: so he swore, sir.
I, I heard him. And did you sweare true, sir?
I, (as I hope to be forgiuen, sir) I ne're rob'd any man, I neuer stood by the high-way-side, sir, but only said so, because I would get my selfe a name, and be counted a tall man.
Now out, base viliaco: Thou my Resolution? I thy Counte∣nance? By this light, gentlemen, he hath confest to mee the most inexora∣ble companie of robberies, and damn'd himselfe that he did 'hem; you ne∣uer heard the like: out skoundrell, out, follow me no more, I commaund thee: out of my sight, goe, hence, speake not: I wil not heare thee: away camouccio.
O, how I doe feed vpon this now, and fat my selfe! here were a couple vnexpectedly dishumour'd: well, by this time, I hope, sir PVN∣TARVOLO and his dog are both out of humour to trauaile. Nay, gentle∣men,
why doe you not seeke out the knight, and comfort him? our sup∣per at the Mitre must of necessitie hold to night, if you loue your re∣putations.
'Fore god, I am so melancholy for his dogs disaster, but I'le goe.
Faith, and I may goe too, but I know, I shall be so melancholy.
Tush, melancholy? you must forget that now, and remember you lie at the mercy of a furie: CARLO will racke your sinewes asunder, and raile you to dust, if you come not.
O, then their feare of CARLO, belike, makes them hold their meeting.
I, here he comes: conceiue him but to be enter'd the Mitre, and 'tis enough.
HOlla: where be these shot-sharkes?
By and by: you're welcome, good master BVFFONE.
Where's GEORGE? calme GEORGE hither, quickly.
What wine please you haue, sir? I'le draw you that's neat, ma∣ster BVFFONE.
Away NEOPHITE, do as I bid thee, bring my deare GEORGE to me: Masse, here he comes.
Welcome, master CARLO.
What! is supper ready, GEORGE?
I, sir, almost: will you haue the cloth laid, master CARLO?
O, what else? are none of the gallants come, yet?
None yet, sir.
Stay, take mee with you, GEORGE: let mee haue a good fa¦loyne of porke laid to the fire, presently.
It shall, sir.
And withall, heare you? draw me the biggest shaft you haue, out of the butt you wo•• of: away, you know my meaning, GEORGE, quicke.
Done, sir.
I neuer hungred so much for thing in my life, as I doe to know our gallants successe at court: now is that leane bald-rib MACILENTE, that salt villaine, plotting some mischicuous deuice, and lyes a soking in their frothy humours like a drie crust, till he has drunke 'hem all vp: could the pummise but hold vp his eyes at other mens happines, in any reasona∣ble proportion: S'lid, the slaue were to be lou'd next heauen, aboue ho∣nour, wealth, rich fare, apparell, wenches, all the delights of the belly, and the groine, whateuer.
Here, master CARLO.
Is't right, Boy?
I, sir, I assure you 'tis right.
Well said, my deare GEORGE, depart: Come, my small gym∣blet, you in the false scabberd, away, so. Now to you, sir B••rgomaster, let's taste of your bountie.
GREX.
MIT.What, will he deale vpon such quantities of wine, alone?
COR.You will perceiue that, sir.
I mary, sir, here's puritie: O, GEORGE, I could bite off his nose for this, now: Sweet rogue, he has drawne Nectar, the very soule of the grape! I'le wash my temples with some on't presently, and drinke some halfe a score draughts; 'twill heat the braine, kindle my imagination, I shall talke nothing but crackers, and fire-worke, to night. So, sir! please you to be here, sir, and I here: So.
GREX.
COR.This is worth the obseruation, signior.
Now, sir; here's to you; and I present you with so much of my loue.
I take it kindly from you, sir, and will returne you the like proportion: but withall, sir, remembring the merry night wee had at the countesses, you know where, sir.
By heauen, you put me in minde now of a very necessarie of∣fice, which I will propose in your pledge, sir: the health of that honora∣ble countesse, and the sweet lady that sate by her, sir.
I doe vaile to it with reuerence. And now, signior, with these la∣dies, I'le be bold to mixe the health of your diuine Mistris.
Doe you know her, sir?
O lord, sir, I: and in the respectfull memorie and mention of her, I could wish this wine were the most precious drugge in the world.
Good faith, sir, you doe honour me in't exceedingly.
GREX.
MIT.Whom should he personate in this, signior?
COR.Faith, I know not, sir, obserue, obserue him.
If it were the basest filth, or mud that runnes in the channell, I am bound to pledge it, respectiuely, sir. And now, sir, here is a replenisht bowle, which I will reciprocally turne vpon you, to the health of the count FRVGALE.
The count FRVGALES health, sir? I'le pledge it on my knees, by this light.
Will you, sir? I'le drinke it on my knee, then, by the light.
GREX.
MIT.Why, this is strange!
COR.Ha' you heard a better drunken dialogue?
Nay, doe me right, sir.
So I doe, in good faith.
Good faith you doe not; mine was fuller.
Why, beleeue me, it was not.
Beleeue me, it was: and you doe lie.
Lie, sir?
I, sir.
S'wounds!
O, come, stab if you haue a mind to it.
Stab? dost thou thinke I dare not?
Nay, I beseech you, gentlemen, what meanes this? nay, looke, for shame respect your reputations.
WHy, how now CARLO! what humour's this?
O, my good Mischiefe! art thou come? where are the rest? where are the rest?
Faith, three of our ordinance are burst.
Burst? how comes that?
Faith, ouer-charg'd, ouer-charg'd.
But did not the traine hold?
O, yes, and the poore lady is irrecouerably blowne vp.
Why, but which of the munition is miscarried? ha?
Inprimis, sir PVNTARVOLO: next, the COVNTENANCE, and RESOLVTION.
How? how for the loue of wit?
Troth, the Resolution is prou'd recreant; the Countenance hath chang'd his copie: and the passionate knight is shedding funerall teares ouer his departed dogge.
What's his dogge dead?
Poison'd, 'tis thought: mary, how, or by whom, that's left for some cunning woman here o' the Banke-side to resolue. For my part, I know nothing, more then that wee are like to haue an exeeding melan∣choly supper of it.
S'life, and I had purpos'd to be extraordinarily merry, I had drunke off a good preparatiue of old sacke here: but will they come, will they come?
They will assuredly come: may, CARLO (as thou lou'st me) run ouer 'hem all freely to night, and especially the knight; spare no sul∣phurous
iest that may come out of that sweatie forge of thine: but ply 'hem with all manner of shot, minion, saker, culvertine, or any thing what thou wilt.
I warrant thee, my deare case of petrionels, so I stand not in dread of thee, but that thou'lt second me.
Why, my good Germane tapster, I will.
What, GEORGE. Lomtero, Lomtero, &c.
Did you call, master CARLO?
More nectar, GEORGE: Lomtero, &c.
Your meat's ready, sir, and your company were come.
Is the loyne of porke enough?
I, sir, it is enough.
Porke? heart, what dost thou with such a greasie dish? I thinke thou dost varnish thy face with the fat on't, it lookes so like a glew-pot.
True, my raw-bon'd-rogue, and if thou would'st farce thy leane ribs with it too, they would not (like ragged lathes) rub out so ma∣ny doublets as they doe: but thou know'st not a good dish, thou. O, it's the only nourishing meat in the world. No maruaile though that saucie, stubborne generation, the Iewes, were forbidden it: for what would they ha' done, well pamper'd with fat porke, that durst murmure at their ma∣ker out of garlicke, and onions. S'light, fed with it, the whorson strum∣mell, patcht, goggle-ey'd Grumbledories, would ha' Gigantomachiz'd. Well said, my sweet GEORGE, fill, fill.
GREX.
MIT.This sauours too much of prophanation.
COR.O, seruetur ad imum, qualis ab incepto processerit, & sibi conflet. The necessite of his vaine compels a toleration: for, barre this, and dash him out of humour, before his time.
'Tis an Axiome in naturall philosophie, What comes neerest the nature of that it feeds, conuerts quicker to nourisment, and doth sooner essentiate. Now nothing in flesh, and entrailes, assimulates or resembles man more, then a hog, or swine—
True; and hee (to requite their courtesie) oftentimes d'offeth his owne nature, and puts on theirs; as when hee becomes as churlish as a hog, or as drunke as a sow: but to your conclusion.
Mary, I say, nothing resembling man more then a swine, it fol∣lowes, nothing can be more nourishing: for indeed (but that it abhorres from our nice nature) if we fed one vpon another, we should shoot vp a great deale faster, and thriue much better: I referre me to your vsurous Cannibals, or such like: but since it is so contrary, porke, porke, is your only feed.
I take it, your deuill be of the same diet; he would ne're ha' de∣sir'd to beene incorporated into swine else. O, here comes the melancho∣ly messe: vpon 'hem CARLO, charge, charge.
'Fore god, sir PVNTARVOLO, I am sorry for your heauinesse: body a me, a shrewd mischance! why, had you no vnicornes horne, nor bezoars stone about you? ha?
SIr, I would request you, be silent.
Nay, to him againe.
Take comfort, good knight, if your cat ha' recouered her catarrhe, feare nothing; your dogges mischance may be holpen.
Say how (sweet CARLO) for so god mend mee, the poore knights moues draw mee into fellowship of his misfortunes. But be not discourag'd, good sir PVNTARVOLO, I am content your aduenture shall be perform'd vpon your cat.
I beleeue you, muske cod, I beleeue you, for rather then thou would'st make present repayment, thou would'st take it vpon his owne bare returne from Calice.
Nay, 'ds life, hee'ld bee content (so hee were well rid out of his company) to pay him fiue for one, at his next meeting him in Paules. But for your dogge, sir PVNTAR, if hee bee not out-right dead, there is a friend of mine, a quack-saluer, shall put life in him againe, that's certaine.
O, no, that comes too late.
Gods precious, knight, will you suffer this?
Drawer, get me a candle, and hard waxe, presently.
I, and bring vp supper; for I am so melancholy.
O, signior, where's your Resolution?
Resolution! hang him rascall: O, CARLO, if you loue me, doe not mention him.
Why, how so? how so?
O, the arrant'st crocodile that euer Christian was acquainted with. By my gentrie, I shall thinke the worse of tabacco while I liue, for his sake: I did thinke him to be as tall a man—
Nay, BVFFONE, the knight, the knight.
S'hid, hee lookes like an image carued out of boxe, full of knots: his face is (for all the world) like a dutch purse, with the mouth downeward; his beard the tassels: and hee walkes (let mee see) as me∣lancholy as one o' the Masters side in the Counter. Doe you heare, sir PVNTAR?
Sir, I doe entreat you no more, but enioyne you to silence, as you affect your peace.
Nay, but deare knight, vnderstand (here are none but friends, and such as wish you well) I would ha' you doe this now; Flea me your dogge presently (but in any case keepe the head) and stuffe his skin well with straw, as you see these dead monsters at Bartholmew faire.
I shall be suddaine, I tell you.
Or if you like not that, sir, get me somewhat a lesse dog, and clap into the skin; here's a slaue about the towne here, a Iew, one YOHAN; or a fellow that makes perrukes, will glew it on artificially, it shall ne're be discern'd, besides, 'twill be so much the warmer for the hound to trauaile in, you know.
Sir PVNTARVOLO, 'death, can you be so patient?
O•• thus, sir: you may haue (as you come through Germany) a familiar for little or nothing, shall turne it selfe into the shape of your dogge, or any thing (what you will) for certaine houres; 'ods my life, knight, what doe you meane? youle offer no violence, will you? hold, hold.
'Sdeath, you slaue, you bandog, you.
As you loue wit, stay the enraged knight, gentlemen.
By my knighthood, he that stirres in his rescue, dies. Drawer, be gone.
Murder, murder, murder.
I, are you howling, you wolfe? Gentlemen, as you tender your liues, suffer no man to enter, till my reuenge be perfect. Sirha, BVFFONE, lie downe; make no exclamations, but downe: downe, you curre, or I will make thy bloud flow on my rapier hilts.
Sweet knight, hold in thy ••urie, and 'fore heauen, I'le honour thee more, then the Turke do's MAHOMET.
Downe (I say.) Who's there?
Here's the Constable, open the dores.
Good, MACILENTE.
Open no dore, if the ADALANTADO of Spaine were here, he should not enter: On, helpe me with the light, gentlemen: you knocke in vaine, sir officer.
Et in Brute!
Sirha, close your lips, or I will drop it in thine eyes by heauen.
O, O.
Open the dore, or I will breake it open.
Nay, good Constable, haue patience a little, you shall come in presently, we haue almost done.
So; now, are you out of your humour, sir? Shift, gentlemen.
LAy hold vpon this gallant, and pursue the rest.
Lay hold on me, sir! for what?
Mary, for your not here, sir, with the rest of your com∣panions.
My riot! master Constable, take heed what you doe. CARLO, did I offer any violence?
O, sir, you see he is not in case to answere you, and that makes you so paramptorie.
Peremptorie, s'life I appeale to the drawers, if I did him any hard measure.
They are all gone, there's none of them will bee laid any hold on.
Well, sir, you are like to answere till the rest can be found out.
Slid, I appeare to GEORGE, here.
Tut, GEORGE was not here: away with him to the Counter, sirs. Come, sir, you were best get your selfe drest somewhere.
Good lord, that master CARLO could not take heed, and knowing what a gentleman the knight is, if hee bee angrie.
A poxe on 'hem, they haue left all the meate on our hands, would they were choakt with it forme.
What, are they gone, sirs?
O, here's master MACILENTE.
Sirha, GEORGE, doe you see that concealement there? that napkin vnder the table?
Gods so, signior FVNGOSO!
Her's good pawne for the reckoning, bee sure you keepe him here, and Ice him not goe away till I come againe, though hee offer to dis∣charge all: Ile returne presently.
Sirrah, we haue a pawne for the reckoning.
What? of MACILENTE?
No, looke vnder the table.
I hope, all be quiet now: if I can get but forth of this street, I care not, masters, I pray you tell me, is the Constable gone?
What? master FVNGOSO?
Was't not a good deuice this same of me, sirs?
Yes saith; ha' you beene here all this while?
O god, I▪ good sir, looke, and the coast be cleere, I'ld faine be going.
Al's cleere, sir, but the reckoning; and that you must cleare, and pay before you goe, I assure you.
I pay? Slight, I eate not a bit since I came into the house, yet.
Why, you may when you please, sir, 'tis all readie below, that was bespoken.
Bespoken? not by me, I hope?
By you, sir? I know not that: but 'twas for you, and your companie, I am sure.
My companie? S'lid, I was an inuited guest, so I was.
Faith, we haue no thing to doe with that, sir, they're all gone but you, and we must be answer'd; that's the short and the long on't.
Nay, if you will grow to extremities, my masters, then would this pot, cup, and all were in my belly, if I haue a crosse about me.
What, and haue such apparell? doe not say so, signior, that mightily discredits your clothes.
As I am an honest man, my taylor had all my monie this mor∣ning, and yet I must be faine to alter my sute too: good sirs, let me goe, 'tis friday night, and in good truth I haue no stomacke in the world, to eate a∣nie thing.
That's no matter, so you pay, sir.
Pay? gods light, with what conscience can you aske me to pay that I neuer dranke for?
Yes, sir, I did see you drinke once.
By this cup, (which is siluer) but you did not, you doe mee infinite wrong, I look't in the pot once, indeed, but I did not drinke.
Well sir, if you can satisfie our master, it shall bee all one to vs. (by and by.)
GREX.
CORD.Lose not your selfe now signior.
TVt, sir, you did beare too hard a conceit of me in that, but I will now make my loue to you most transparent, in spight of any dust of suspition, that may bee raysed to cloud it: and henceforth, since I see it is so against your humour, I will neuer labour to perswade you.
Why, I thanke you, signior, but what's that you tell mee may concerne my peace so much?
Faith, sir, 'tis thus. Your wiues brother, signior FVNGOSO, being at supper to night at a tauerne, with a sort of gallants, there hap∣pened some diuision amongst 'hem, and he is left in pawne for the recko∣ning: now, if euer you looke that time shall present you with a happie oc∣casion to doe your wife some gracious and acceptable seruice, take hold of this opportunitie, and presently goe, and redeeme him; for, being her
brother, and his credit so amply engag'd as now it is, when she shall heare (as hee cannot himselfe, but hee must out of extremitie report it) that you came, and offered your selfe so kindly, and with that respect of his reputation, why, the benefit cannot but make her dote, and grow madde of your affections.
Now, by heauen, MACILENTE, I acknowledge my selfe ex∣ceedingly indebted to you, by this kinde tender of your loue; and I am sorrie to remember that I was euer so rude, to neglect a friend of your im∣portance: bring mee shooes, and a cloke there, I was going to bed, if you had not come, what tauerne is it?
The Mitre, sir.
O, why FIDO, my shooes. Good faith it cannot but please her exceedingly.
Come, I marle what peece of nightwork you haue in hand now, that you call for your cloke, and your shooes! what, is this your Pandar?
O, sweet wife, speake lower, I would not he should heare thee for a world—
Hang him rascall, I cannot abide him for his trecherie, with his wilde quick-set beard there. Whither goe you now with him?
No whither with him, deare wife, I goe alone to a place, from whence I will returne instantly. Good MACILENTE, acquaint not her with it by any meanes, it may come so much the more accepted, frame some other answere. I'le come backe immediately.
Nay, and I be not worthie to know whither you goe, stay, till I take knowledge of your comming backe.
Heare you, mistresse DELIRO.
So sir, and what say you?
Faith ladie, my intents will not deserue this slight respect, when you shall know 'hem.
Your intents? why, what may your intents bee, for god sake!
Troth, the time allowes no circumstance, ladie, therefore know, this was but a deuice to remoue your husband hence, and bestow him securely, whilest (with more conueniencie) I might report to you a misfortune that hath happened to Monsieur BRISKE — nay comfort, sweet ladie. This night (being at supper a sort of young gallants com∣mitted a riot, for the which he (onely) is apprehended and carried to the Counter, where if your husband, and other creditours should but haue knowledge of him, the poore gentleman were vndone for euer.
Aye me! that he were.
Now therefore, if you can thinke vpon any present meanes for his deliuerie, doe not forslow it. A bribe to the officer that commit∣ted him, will doe it.
O god, sir, he shall not want for a bribe: pray you, will you commend me to him, and say I'le visit him presently?
No, ladie, I shall doe you better seruice, in protracting your
husbands returne, that you may goe with more safetie.
Good truth, so you may: farewell, good sir. Lord, how a wo∣man may be mistaken in a man? I would haue sworne vpon all the testa∣ments in the world, he had not lou'd master BRISKE. Bring me my keyes there, maide. Alasse, good gentleman, if all I haue i' this earthly world will pleasure him, it shall be at his seruice.
GREX.
MIT.How MACILENTE sweates i'this busines, if you marke him.
COR.I, you shall see the true picture of spight anon: here comes the pawne, and his redeemer.
COme, brother, be not discourag'd for this, man, what?
No truly, I am not discourag'd, but I protest to you, brother, I haue done imitating any more gallants either in purse or apparell, but as shall become a gentleman, for good carriage, or so.
You say well. This is all, i' the bill here? is't not?
I, sir.
There's your monie, tell it: and brother, I am glad I met with so good occasion to shew my loue to you.
I will studie to deserue it in good truth, and I liue.
What, is't right?
I, sir, and I thanke you.
Let me haue a capons legge sau'd, now the reckoning is paid.
You shall, sir.
Where's signior DELIRO?
Here, MACILENTE.
Harke you, sir, ha' you dispatcht this same?
I marie haue I.
Well then, I can tell you newes, BRISKE is i'the Counter.
I'the Counter?
'Tis true, sir, committed for the stirre here to night. Now would I haue you send your brother home afore, with the report of this your kindnesse done him, to his sister, which will so pleasingly possesse her, and out of his mouth too, that i' the meane time you may clap your action on BRISKE, and your wife (being in so happie a moode) cannot entertaine it ill, by any meanes.
'Tis verie true, she cannot indeed, I thinke.
Thinke? why 'tis past thought, you shall neuer meet the like opportunitie, I assure you.
I will doe it. Brother, pray you goe home afore, this gentle∣man, and I haue some priuate businesse; and tell my sweet wife, I'le come presently.
I will, brother.
And, signior, acquaint your sister, how liberally and out of his bountie, your brother has vs'd you. (Doe you see?) made you a man of good reckoning; redeem'd that you neuer were possest of, credit; gaue you as gentleman-like termes as might be; found no fault with your comming behind the fashion; nor nothing.
Nay, I am out of those humours now.
Well, if you be out, keepe your distance, and be not made a shot-clog any more. Come, signior, let's make haste.
O Master FASTIDIVS, what pitty is't to see so sweet a man as you are, in so sowre a place?
GREX.
COR.As vpon her lips, do's shee meane?
MIT.O, this is to be imagin'd the Counter, belike?
Troth, faire lady, 'tis first the pleasure of the Fates, and next of the Constable, to haue it so: but, I am patient, and indeed comforted the more in your kind visitation.
Nay, you shall bee comforted in mee, more then this, if you please, sir. I sent you word by my brother, sir, that my husband laid to rest you this morning, I know not whether you receiu'd it, or no.
No, beleeue it, sweet creature, your brother gaue me no such intelligence.
O, the lord!
But has your husband any such purpose?
O sweet master BRISKE, yes: and therefore be presently dis∣charg'd, for if he come with his actions vpon you (lord deliuer you) you are in for one halfe a score yeere; he kept a poore man in Ludgate once, twelue yeere, for sixteene shillings. Where's your keeper? for loues sake call him, let him take a bribe, and dispatch you. Lord, how my heart trembles! here are no spies? are there?
No, sweet mistris, why are you in this passion?
O lord, Master FASTIDIVS, if you knew how I tooke vp my husband to day, when hee said hee would arrest you; and how I rail'd at him that perswaded him to't, the scholer there, (who on my conscience loues you now) and what care I tooke to send you intelligence by my brother; and how I gaue him foure soueraignes for his paines; and now,
how I came running out hither without man or boy with me, so soone as I heard on't; you'ld say, I were in a passion indeed: your keeper, for gods sake. O, Master BRISKE (as 'tis in EVPHVES) Hard is the choise, when one is compelled either by silence to die with griefe, or by speaking to liue with shame.
Faire lady, I conceiue you, and may this kisse assure you, that where aduersitie hath (as it were) contracted, prosperitie shall not— gods me! your husband.
O, me!
I? is't thus!
Why, how now, signior DELIRO? has the wolfe seene you? ha? hath GORGONS head made marble of you?
Some Planet strike me dead.
Why, looke you; sir, I told you, you might haue suspected this long afore, had you pleas'd; and ha' sau'd this labour of admiration now, and passion, and such extremities as this fraile lumpe of flesh is sub∣iect vnto. Nay, why doe you not dote now, signior? Mee thinkes you should say it were some enchantment, deceptio visus, or so, ha? if you could perswade your selfe it were a dreame now, 'twere excellent: saith, trie what you can do, signior; it may be your imagination will be brought to it in time, there's nothing impossible.
Sweet husband:
Out lasciuious strumpet.
What? did you see, how ill that stale veine became him afore, of sweet wife, and deare heart? and are you falne iust into the same now? with sweet husband. Away, follow him, goe, keepe state, what? Re∣member you are a woman, turne impudent: gi' him not the head, though you gi' him the hornes. Away. And yet mee thinkes you should take your leaue of Enfans-perdus here, your forlorne hope. How now, Mon∣sieur BRISKE? what? friday night? and in affliction too? and yet your Pulpamenta? your delicate morcels? I perceiue, the affection of ladies and gentlewomen, pursues you wheresoeuer you goe, Monsieur.
Now, in good faith (and as I am gentle) there could not haue come a thing, i' this world, to haue distracted me more, then the wrinck∣led fortunes of this poore spinster.
O, yes, sir: I can tell you a thing will distract you much bet∣ter, beleeue it. Signior DELIRO has entred three actions against you, three actions, Monsieur; mary, one of them (I'le put you in comfort) is but three thousand, and the other two, some fiue thousand a peece, trifles, trifles.
O, I am vndone.
Nay, not altogether so, sir, the knight must haue his hundred pound repai'd, that 'll helpe too, and then sixe-score pound for a diamond, you know where. These be things will weigh, Monsieur, they will weigh.
O, heauen!
What, doe you sigh? this it is to kisse the hand of a countesse, to haue her coach sent for you, to hang poinards in ladies garters, to weare bracelets of their haire, and for euery one of these great fauours to giue some slight iewell of fiue hundred crownes, or so, why 'tis nothing. Now, Monsieur, you see the plague that treads o' the heeles of your fopperie: well, goe your waies in, remoue your selfe to the two-penny ward quick∣ly, to saue charges, and there set vp your rest to spend sir PVNTARS hun∣dred pound for him. Away, good pomander, goe.
Why, here's a change! Now is my soule at peace. I am as emptie of all enuie now, As they of merit to be enuied at. My humour (like a flame) no longer lasts Then it hath stuffe to feed it, and their folly, Being now rak't vp in their repentant ashes, Affords no ampler subiect to my spleene. I am so farre from malicing their states, That I begin to pitty 'hem. It grieues me To thinke they haue a being. I could wish They might turne wise vpon it, and be sau'd now, So heauen were pleas'd: but let them vanish, vapors. Gentlemen, how like you it? has't not beene tedious?GREX.
COR.Nay, we ha' done censuring, now.
MIT.Yes, faith.
MAC.How so?
COR.Mary, because wee'le imitate your actors, and be out of our Humours. Besides, here are those (round about you) of more abilitie in censure then wee, whose iudgements can giue it a more satisfying allow∣ance: wee'le refer you to them.
MAC.I? is't e'en so? Wel, gentlemen, I should haue gone in, and re∣turn'd to you, as I was ASPER at the first: but (by reason the shift would haue beene somewhat long, and we are loth to draw your patience far∣der) wee'le intreat you to imagine it. And now (that you may see I will be out of humour for companie) I stand wholly to your kind approba∣tion, and (indeed) am nothing so peremptorie as I was in the beginning: Mary, I will not doe as PLAVTVS, in his Amphytrio, for all this (Summi Ionis causa, Plaudite:) begge a Plaudite, for gods sake; but if you (out of the bountie of your good liking) will bestow it; why, you may (in time) make leane MACILENTE as fat, as Sir IOHN FAL-STAFFE.