The workes of Beniamin Ionson

Act V. Scene VI.

PVNTARVOLO, CARLO, MACILENTE, FAST. BRISKE, SOGLIARDO, FVNGOSO.

SIr, I would request you, be silent.

MACI.

Nay, to him againe.

CARL.

Take comfort, good knight, if your cat ha' recouered her catarrhe, feare nothing; your dogges mischance may be holpen.

FAST.

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.

MACI.

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.

CARL.

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.

FVNG.

O, no, that comes too late.

MACI.

Gods precious, knight, will you suffer this?

PVNT.

Drawer, get me a candle, and hard waxe, presently.

SOGL.

I, and bring vp supper; for I am so melancholy.

CARL.

O, signior, where's your Resolution?

SOGL.

Resolution! hang him rascall: O, CARLO, if you loue me, doe not mention him.

CARL.

Why, how so? how so?

SOGL.

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—

MACI.

Nay, BVFFONE, the knight, the knight.

CARL.

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?

PVNT.

Sir, I doe entreat you no more, but enioyne you to silence, as you affect your peace.

CARL.

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.

PVNT.

I shall be suddaine, I tell you.

CARL.

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.

MACI.

Sir PVNTARVOLO, 'death, can you be so patient?

CARL.

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.

PVNT.

'Sdeath, you slaue, you bandog, you.

CARL.

As you loue wit, stay the enraged knight, gentlemen.

PVNT.

By my knighthood, he that stirres in his rescue, dies. Drawer, be gone.

CARL.

Murder, murder, murder.

PVNT.

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.

CARL.

Sweet knight, hold in thy ••urie, and 'fore heauen, I'le honour thee more, then the Turke do's MAHOMET.

PVNT.

Downe (I say.) Who's there?

CONS.

Withi••.

Here's the Constable, open the dores.

CARL.

Good, MACILENTE.

PVNT.

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.

CARL.

Et in Brute!

PVNT.

Sirha, close your lips, or I will drop it in thine eyes by heauen.

CARL.

He seales vp his lips.

O, O.

CONS.

Open the dore, or I will breake it open.

MACI.

Nay, good Constable, haue patience a little, you shall come in presently, we haue almost done.

PVNT.

They all draw, and disperse.

So; now, are you out of your humour, sir? Shift, gentlemen.