The workes of Beniamin Ionson

Act III. (Book 3)

Scene I.

HORACE, CRISPINVS.

* 1.1 HMh? yes; I will begin an ode so: and it shall be to MECOENAS.

CRIS.

'Slid, yonder's HORACE! they say hee's an excel∣len•• Poet: MECOENAS loues him. Ile fall into his acquaintance, if I can; I thinke he be composing, as he goes i' the street! ha? 't is a good hu∣mour, and he be: Ile compose too.

HORA.

Swell me a bowle with lusti•• wine, Till I may see the plump LYaeVS swim Aboue the brim: I drinke, as I would wright, In slowing measure, fill'd with flame, and spright.

CRIS.

Sweet HORACE, MINERVA, and the Muses stand auspicious to thy desseignes. How far'st thou, sweete man? frolicke? rich? gal∣lant? ha?

HORA.

Not greatly gallant, sir, like my fortunes; well. I'm bold to take my leaue, sir, you'ld naught else, sir, would you?

CRIS.

Troth, no, but I could wish thou did'st know vs, HORACE, we are a scholer, I assure thee.

HORA.

A scholer, sir? I shall bee couetous of your faire knowledge.

CRIS.

Gramercie, good HORACE. Nay, we are new turn'd Poet too, which is more; and a Satyrist too, which is more then that: I write iust in thy veine, I. I am for your odes or your sermons, or any thing indeed; wee are a gentleman besides: our name is RVFVS LABERIVS CRISPINVS, weare a prettie stoick too.

HORA.

To the proportion of your beard, I thinke it, sir.

CRIS.

By PHOEBVS, here's a most neate fine street, is't not? I protest to thee, I am enamour'd of this street now, more then of halfe the streets of ••ome, againe; 'tis so polite, and terse! There's the front of a building now. I studie architecture too: if euer I should build, I'de haue a house iust of that prospectiue.

HORA.

Doubtlesse, this gallants tongue has a good turne, when hee sleepes.

CRIS.

I doe make verses, when I come in such a street as this: O your city-ladies, you shall ha'hem ••it in euery shop like the Muses—offring you the c••s••••lian dewes, and the thespian liquors, to as many as haue but the sweet grace and audacitie to— sip of their lips. Did you neuer heare any of my verses?

HORA.

No, sir (but I am in some ••••are, I must, now.)

CRIS.

I'le tell thee some (if I can but recouer 'hem) I compos'd e'en now of a dressing, I saw a iewellers wife weare, who indeede was a iewell herselfe: I preferre that kind of tire now, what's thy opinion, HORACE?

HORA.

With your siluer bodkin, it does well, sir.

CRIS.

I cannot tell, but it stirres me more then all your court-curles, or your spangles, or your tricks: I affect not these high gable-ends, these tuscane-tops, nor your coronets, nor your arches, nor your pyramids; giue me a fine sweet— little delicate dressing, with a bodkin, as you say: and a mushrome, for all your other ornatures.

HORA.

Is't not possible to make an escape from him?

CRIS.

I haue remitted my verses, all this while, I thinke I ha' for∣get 'hem.

HORA.

Here's he, could wish you had else.

CRIS.

Pray IOVE, I can intreat 'hem of my memorie.

HORA.

You put your memorie to too much trouble, sir.

CRIS.

No, sweet HORACE, we must not ha' thee thinke so.

HORA.

I crie you mercy; then, they are my eares That must be tortur'd: well, you must haue patience, eares.

CRIS.

Pray thee, HORACE, obserue.

HORA.

Yes, sir: your sattin sleeue begins to fret at the rug that is vn∣derneath it, I doe obserue: And your ample veluet bases are not without euident staines of a hot disposition, naturally.

CRIS.

O— I'le die them into another colour, at pleasure: how many yards of veluet dost thou thinke they containe?

HORA.

Hart! I haue put him now in a fresh way To vexe me more: Faith, sir, your mercers booke Will tell you with more patience, then I can; (For I am crost, and so's not that, I thinke.)

CRIS.

S'light, these verses haue lost me againe: I shall not inuite 'hem to mind, now.

HORA.

Racke not your thoughts, good sir; rather, deferre it

To a new time; I'le meete you at your lodging, Or where you please: Till then, IOVE keepe you, sir.

CRIS.

Nay, gentle HORACE, stay: I haue it, now.

HORA.

Yes, sir. APOLLO, HERMES, IVPITER, looke down vpon me.

CRIS.

Rich was thy hap, sweet, deintie cap, There to be placed: Where thy smooth blacke, sleeke white may smacke, And both be graced.

white, is there vsurpt for her brow; her forehead: and then sleeke, as the paralell to smooth, that went before. A kind of Paranomasie, or Agnomina∣tion: doe you conceiue, sir?

HORA.

Excellent. Troth, sir, I must be abrupt, and leaue you.

CRIS.

Why, what haste hast thou? pray thee, stay a little: thou shalt not goe yet, by PHOEBVS.

HORA.

I shall not? what remedie? Fie, how I sweat with suffering!

CRIS.

And then—

HORA.

Pray, sir, giue me leaue to wipe my face a little.

CRIS.

Yes, doe, good HORACE.

HORA.

Thanke you, sir. Death! I must craue his leaue to pisse anon; Or that I may goe hence with halfe my teeth: I am in some such feare. This tyrannie Is strange, to take mine eares vp by commission, (Whether I will or no) and make them stalls To his lewd soloecismes, and worded trash. Happy thou, bold BOLANVS, now, I say; Whose freedome, and impatience of this fellow, Would, long ere this, haue call'd him foole, and foole, And ranke, and tedious foole, and haue flung iests As hard as stones, till thou hadst pelted him Out of the place: whil'st my tame modestie Suffers my wit be made a solemne asse To beare his fopperies—

CRIS.

HORACE, thou art miserably affected to be gone, I see. But— pray thee, let's proue, to enioy thee awhile: Thou hast no businesse, I as∣sure me. Whether is thy iourney directed? ha?

HORA.

Sir, I am going to visit a friend, that's sicke.

CRIS.

A friend? What's he? doe not I know him?

HORA.

No, sir, you doe not know him; and 'tis not the worse for him.

CRIS.

What's his name? where's he lodg'd?

HORA.

Where, I shall be fearefull to draw you out of your way, sir; a great way hence: Pray', sir, let's part.

CRIS.

Nay, but where is't? I pray thee, say.

HORA.

On the farre side of all Tyber yonder, by CAESARS gardens.

CRIS.

O, that's my course directly; I am for you. Come, goe: why stand'st thou?

HORA.

Yes, sir: marry, the plague is in that part of the citie; I had almost forgot to tell you, sir.

CRIS.

Fow: It's no matter, I feare no pestilence, I ha' not offended PHOEBVS.

HORA.

I haue, it seemes; or else this heauie scourge Could ne're haue lighted on me—

CRIS.

Come, along.

HORA.

I am to goe downe some halfe mile, this way, sir, first, to speake with his physician: And from thence to his apothecary, where I shall stay the mixing of diuers drugs—

CRIS.

Why, it's all one. I haue nothing to doe, and I loue not to be idle, I'le beare thee companie. How call'st thou the pothecary?

HORA.

O, that I knew a name would fright him now. Sir RHADA∣MANTHVS, RHADAMANTHVS, sir. There's one so cald, is a iust iudge, in hell, And doth inflict strange vengeance on all those, That (here on earth) torment poore patient spirits.

CRIS.

He dwells at the three Faries, by IANVS Temple?

HORA.

Your pothecary does, sir.

CRIS.

Hart, Iowe him money for sweet meates, and hee has laid to arrest me, I heare: but—

HORA.

Sir, I haue made a most solemne vow: I will neuer baile a∣ny man.

CRIS.

Well then, I'le sweare, and speake him faire, if the worst come. But his name is MINOS, not RHADAMANTHVS, HORACE.

HORA.

That may bee, sir: I but guest at his name by his signe. But your MINOS is a iudge too, sir?

CRIS.

I protest to thee, HORACE (doe but taste mee once) if I doe know my selfe, and mine owne vertues truely, thou wilt not make that e∣steeme of VARIVS, or VIRGIL, or TIBVLLVS, or any of 'hem indeed, as now in thy ignorance thou dost; which I am content to forgiue: I would faine see, which of these could pen more verses in a day, or with more fa∣cilitie then I; or that could court his mistris, kisse her hand, make better sport with her fanne, or her dogge—

HORA.

I cannot baile you yet, sir.

CRIS.

Or that could moue his body more gracefully, or dance bet∣ter you shoo'd see mee, were it not i' the street—

HORA.

Nor yet.

CRIS.

Why, I haue beene a reueller, and at my cloth of siluer sute, and my long stocking, in my time, and will be againe—

HORA.

If you may be trusted, sir.

CRIS.

And then for my singing, HERMOGENES himselfe enuies me; that is your onely Master of musique you haue in Rome.

HORA.

Is your mother liuing, sir?

CRIS.

Au: Conuert thy thoughts to somewhat else, I pray thee.

HORA.

You haue much of the mother in you, sir: your father is dead?

CRIS.

I, I thanke IOVE, and my grand-father too and all my kins∣folkes, and well compos'd in their vrnes.

HORA.

The more their happinesse; that rest in peace, Free from th'abundant torture of thy tongue; Would I were with them too.

CRIS.

What's that, HORACE?

HORA.

I now remember me, sir, of a sad fate A cunning woman, one SABELLA sung, When in her ••rne, she cast my destinie, I being but a child

CRIS.

What was't I pray thee?

HORA.

Shee told me, I should surely neuer perish By famine, poyson, or the enemies sword; The hecticke feuer, cough, or pleurisie, Should neuer hurt me; nor the tardie gowt: But in my time, I should be once surpriz'd, By a strong tedious talker, that should vexe And almost bring me to consumption. Therefore (if I were wise) she warn'd me shunne All such long-winded monsters, as my bane: For if I could but scape that one discourser, I might (no doubt) proue an olde aged man. By your leaue, sir?

CRIS.

Tut, tut: abandon this idle humour, 'tis nothing but melan∣choly. Fore IOVE, now I thinke o••t, I am to appeare in court here, to answere to one that has me in suit; sweet HORACE, goe with mee, this is my houre: if I neglect it, the law proceedes against me. Thou art familiar with these things, pray thee, if thou lou'st me, goe.

HORA.

Now, let me dye, sir, if I know your lawes; Or haue the power to stand still halfe so long In their loud courts, as while a case is Argued. Besides, you know, sir, where I am to goe, And the necessitie—

CRIS.

'Tis true:—

HORA.

I hope the houre of my release be come: Hee will (vpon this consideration) discharge me, sure.

CRIS.

Troth, I am doubtfull, what I may best doe; whether to leaue thee, or my affaires, HORACE?

HORA.

O IVPITER, mee, sir; mee, by any meanes: I beseech you, mee, sir.

CRIS.

No saith, I'le venture those now: Thou shalt see I loue thee, come HORACE.

HORA.

Nay then, I am desperate: I follow you, sir. 'Tis hard

contending with a man that ouer-comes thus.

CRIS.

And how deales MECOENAS with thee? liberally? ha? Is he open-handed? bountifull?

HORA.

Hee's still himselfe, sir.

CRIS.

Troth, HORACE, thou art exceeding happy in thy friends and acquaintance; they are all most choice spirits, and of the first ranke of Romanes: I doe not know that poet, I protest, ha's vs'd his fortune more prosperously, then thou hast. If thou would'st bring me knowne to ME∣CoeNAS, I should second thy desert well; thou should'st find a good sure assistant of mee: one, that would speake all good of thee in thy absence, and be content with the next place, not enuying thy reputation with thy patron. Let me not liue, but I thinke thou and I (in a small time) should list them all out of fauour, both VIRGIL, VARIVS, and the best of them; and enioy him wholy to our selues.

HORA.

Gods, you doe know it, I can hold no longer; This brize hath prickt my patience: Sir, your silkenesse Cleerely mistakes MECOENAS, and his house; To thinke, there breathes a spirit beneath his roofe, Subiect vnto those poore affections Of vnder-mining enuie, and detraction, Moodes, onely proper to base groueling minds: That place is not in Rome, I dare affirme, More pure, or free, from such low common euils. There's no man greeu'd, that this is thought more rich, Or this more learned; each man hath his place, And to his merit, his reward of grace: Which with a mutuall loue they all embrace.

CRIS.

You report a wonder! 'tis scarce credible, this.

HORA.

I am no torture, to enforce you to beleeue it, but 'tis so.

CRIS.

Why, this enflames mee with a more ardent desire to bee his, then before: but, I doubt I shall find the entrance, to his familiaritie, som∣what more then difficult, HORACE.

HORA.

Tut, you'le conquer him, as you haue done me; There's no standing out against you, sir, I see that. Either your importunitie, or the intimation of your good parts; or—

CRIS.

Nay, I'le bribe his porter, and the groomes of his chamber; make his doores open to mee that way, first: and then, I'le obserue my times. Say, he should extrude mee his house to day; shall I therefore de∣sist, or let fall my suite, to morrow? No: I'le attend him, follow him, meet him? i' the street, the high waies, run by his coach, neuer leaue him. What? Man hath nothing giuen him, in this life, without much labour.

HORA.

And impudence. Archer of heauen, PHOEBVS, take thy bow, And with a full drawne shaft, naile to the earth This PYTHON; that I may yet run hence, and liue:

Or brawnie HERCVLES, doe thou come downe, And (though thou mak'st it vp thy thirteenth labour) Rescue me from this HYDRA of discourse, here.

Act III. Scene II.

ARISTIVS, HORACE, CRISPINVS.

HORACE, well met.

HORA.

O welcome, my releeuer, ARISTIVS, As thou lou'st me, ransome me.

ARIS.

What ayl'st thou, man?

HORA.

'Death, I am seaz'd on here By a Land-R••mora, I cannot stirre; Not moue, but as he please.

CRIS.

Wilt thou goe, HORACE?

HORA.

'Hart! he cleaues to me like ALCIDES shirt, Tearing my flesh, and sinnewes; Ô, I ha' beene vext And tortur'd with him, beyond fortie feuers. For IOVES sake, find some meanes, to take me from him.

ARIS.

Yes, I will: but I'le goe first, and tell MECOENAS.

CRIS.

Come, shall we goe?

ARIS.

The iest will make his eyes runne, yfaith.

HORA.

Nay, ARISTIVS?

ARIS.

Farewell, HORACE.

HORA.

'Death! will a' leaue me? FVSCVS ARISTIVS, doe you heare? Gods of Rome! you said, you had somewhat to say to me, in priuate.

ARIS.

I, but I see, you are now imploi'd with that gentleman: 'twere offence to trouble you. I'le take some fitter oportunitie, farewell.

HORA.

Mischiefe, and torment! Ô, my soule, and heart, How are you crampt with anguish! Death it selfe Brings not the like convulsions. Ô, this day, That euer I should view thy tedious face—

CRIS.

HORACE, what passion? what humour is this?

HORA.

Away, good prodigie, afflict me not. (A friend, and mocke me thus!) neuer was man So left vnder the axe—how now.

Act III. Scene III.

MINOS, LICTORS, CRISPINVS, HORACE.

THat's he, in the imbrodered hat, there, with the ash-colour'd fea∣ther: his name is LABERIVS CRISPINVS.

LICT.

LABERIVS CRISPINVS; I arrest you in the Empe∣rours name.

CRIS.

Me, sir? doe you arrest me?

LICT.

I, sir, at the sute of Master MINOS the pothecarie.

HORA.

Thankes, great APOLLO: I will not slip thy fauour offered me in my escape, for my fortunes.

CRIS.

Master MINOS? I know no master MINOS. Where's HO∣RACE? HORACE? HORACE?

MINO.

Sir, doe not you know me?

CRIS.

O yes; I know you, master MINOS: 'crie you mercy. But HORACE? Gods me, is he gone?

MINO.

I, and so would you too, if you knew how. Officer, looke to him.

CRIS.

Doe you heare, master MINOS? pray•• let's be vs'd like a man of our owne fashion. By IANVS, and IVPITER, I meant to haue paied you next weeke, euery drachme. Seeke not to eclipse my reputation, thus vulgarly.

MINO.

Sir, your oathes cannot serue you, you know I haue forborne you long.

CRIS.

I am conscious of it, sir. Nay, I beseech you, gentlemen, doe not exhale me thus; remember 'tis but for sweet meates—

LICT.

Sweet meat must haue sowre sawce, sir. Come along.

CRIS.

Sweet, master MINOS: I am forfeited to eternall disgrace, if you doe not commiserate. Good officer, be not so officious.

Act III. Scene IIII.

TVCCA, PYRGVS, MINOS, LICTORS, CRISPINVS, HISTRIO, DE∣METRIVS.

WHy, how now, my good brace of bloud-hounds? whither doe you dragge the gent'man? you mungrels, you curres, you ban∣dogs, wee are Captaine TVCCA, that talke to you, you inhu∣mane pilchers.

MINO.

Sir, he is their prisoner.

TVCC.

Their pestilence. What are you, sir?

MINO.

A citizen of Rome, sir.

TVCC.

Then you are not farre distant from a foole, sir.

MINO.

A pothecarie, sir.

TVCC.

I knew thou wast not a physician; fough: out of my nostrils, thou stink'st of lo••••••m, and the syringe: away, quack-saluer. Follower, my sword.

PYRG.

Here, noble leader, youle doe no harme with it: I'le trust you.

TVCC.

Doe you heare, you, good-man slaue? hooke, ramme, rogue, catch-pole, lose the gent'man, or by my veluet armes—

LICT.

The Officer strikes vp his heeles.

What will you doe, sir?

TVCC.

Kisse thy hand, my honourable actiue varlet: and imbrace thee, thus.

PYRG.

O patient metamorphosis!

TVCC.

My sword, my tall rascall.

LICT.

Nay, soft, sir: Some wiser then some.

TVCC.

What? and a wit to! By PLVTO, thou must bee cherish'd, slaue; here's three drachmes for thee: hold.

PYRG.

There's halfe his lendings gone.

TVCC.

Giue mee.

LICT.

No, sir, your first word shall stand: I'le hold all.

TVCC.

Nay, but, rogue—

LICT.

You would make a rescue of our prisoner, sir, you?

TVCC.

I, a rescue? away inhumane varlet. Come, come, I neuer rel∣lish aboue one iest at most; doe not disgust me: Sirra, doe not. Rogue, I tell thee, rogue, doe not.

LICT.

How, sir? rogue?

TVCC.

I, why! thou art not angrie, rascall? art thou?

LICT.

I cannot tell, sir, I am little better, vpon these termes.

TVCC.

Ha! gods, and fiends! why, do'st heare? rogue, thou, giue me thy hand; I say vnto thee, thy hand: rogue. What? do'st not thou know me? not me, rogue? not Captaine TVCCA, rogue?

MINO.

Come: pra' surrender the gentleman his sword, officer; we'll haue no fighting here.

TVCC.

What's thy name?

MINO.

MINOS, an't please you.

TVCC.

MINOS? come, hither, MINOS; Thou art a wise fellow, it seemes: Let me talke with thee.

CRIS.

Was euer wretch so wretched, as vnfortunate I?

TVCC.

Thou art one of the centum-viri, old boy, art' not?

MINO.

No, indeed, master Captaine.

TVCC.

Goe to, thou shalt be, then: I'le ha' thee one, MINOS. Take my sword from those rascals, do'st thou see? goe, doe it: I cannot at∣tempt with patience. What does this gentleman owe thee, little MINOS?

MINO.

Fourescore sesterties, sir.

TVCC.

What? no more? Come, thou shalt release him, MI∣NOS: what, I'le bee his baile, thou shalt take my word, old boy, and casheere these furies: thou shalt do't, I say, thou shalt, little MINOS, thou shalt.

CRIS.

Yes, and as I am a gentleman, and a reueller, I'le make a peece of poetrie, and absolue all, within these fiue daies.

TVCC.

Come, MINOS is not to learne how to vse a gent'man of qualitie, I know; My sword: If hee pay thee not, I will, and I must, old boy. Thou shalt bee my pothecary too: ha'st good eringo's, MINOS?

MINO.

The best in Rome, sir.

TVCC.

Goe too then— Vermine, know the house.

PYRG.

I warrant you, Collonell.

TVCC.

For this gentleman, MINOS?

MINO.

I'le take your word, Captaine.

TVCC.

Thou hast it, my sword—

MINO.

Yes, sir: but you must discharge the arrest, Master CRI∣SPINVS.

TVCC.

How, MINOS? looke in the gentlemans face, and but reade his silence. Pay, pay; 'tis honour, MINOS.

CRIS.

By IOVE, sweet Captaine, you doe most infinitely endeare, and oblige me to you.

TVCC.

Tut, I cannot complement, by MARS: but IVPITER loue me, as I loue good wordes, and good clothes, and there's an end. Thou shalt giue my boy that girdle, and hangers, when thou hast worne them a little more—

CRIS.

O IVPITER! Captaine, he 'shall haue them now, presently: please you to be acceptiue, young gentleman.

PYRG.

Yes, sir, feare not; I shall accept: I haue a prettie foolish hu∣mour of taking, if you knew all.

TVCC.

Not now, you shall not take, boy.

CRIS.

By my truth, and earnest, but hee shall, Captaine, by your leaue.

TVCC.

Nay, and a 'sweare by his truth, and earnest, take it boy: doe not make a gent'man forsworne.

LICT.

Well, sir, there is your sword; but thanke master MINOS: you had not carried it as you doe, else.

TVCC.

MINOS is iust, and you are knaues, and—

LICT.

What say you, sir?

TVCC.

Passe on, my good scoundrell, passe on, I honour thee: But, that I hate to haue action with such base rogues as these; you should ha' seene me vnrip their noses now, and haue sent 'hem to the next barbers, to stitching: for, doe you see— I am a man of humour, and I doe loue the varlets, the honest varlets; they haue wit, and valour: and are indeed good profitable— errant rogues, as any liue in an empire. Doest thou heare, POETASTER? second me. Stand vp (MINOS) close, gather, yet, so. Sir (thou shalt haue a quarter share, bee resolute) you shall, at my re∣quest, take MINOS by the hand, here, little MINOS, I will haue it so; all friends, and a health: Be not inexorable. And thou shalt impart the wine, old boy, thou shalt do't, little MINOS, thou shalt: make vs pay it in our physicke. What? we must liue, and honour the gods, sometimes; now BACCHVS, now COMVS, now PRIAPVS: euery god, a little. What's he, that stalkes by, there? boy, PYRGVS, you were best let him passe, sirrah; doe, ferret, let him passe, doe.

PYRG.

'Tis a player, sir.

TVCC.

A player? Call him, call the lowsie slaue hither: what, will he saile by, and not once strike, or vaile to a Man of warre? ha? doe you

heare? you, player, rogue, stalker, come backe here: no respect to men of worship, you slaue? What, you are proud, you rascall, are you proud? ha? you grow rich, doe you? and purchase, you two-penny teare-mouth? you haue fortune, and the good yeere on your side, you stinkard? you haue? you haue?

HIST.

Nay, sweet Captaine, be confin'd to some reason; I protest I saw you not, sir.

TVCC.

You did not? where was your sight, OEDIPVS? you walke with hares eies, doe you? I'le ha' 'hem glas'd, rogue; and you say the word, they shall be glaz'd for you: come, we must haue you turne fiddler againe, slaue, 'get a base violin at your backe, and march in a tawnie coate, with one sleeue, to Goose-faire, and then you'll know vs; you'll see vs then; you will, gulch, you will? Then, wil't please your worship to haue any musicke, Captaine?

HIST.

Nay, good Captaine.

TVCC.

What? doe you laugh, Owleglas? death, you perstemptuous varlet, I am none of your fellowes: I haue commanded a hundred and fif∣tie such rogues, I.

1. PYR.

I, and most of that hundred and fiftie, haue beene leaders of a legion.

HIST.

If I haue exhibited wrong, I'le tender satisfaction, Captaine.

TVCC.

Sai'st thou so, honest vermine? Giue me thy hand, thou shalt make vs a supper one of these nights.

HIST.

When you please, by IOVE, Captaine, most willingly.

TVCC.

Doest thou 'sweare? to morrow then; say, and hold slaue. There are some of you plaiers honest gent'man-like scoundrels, and suspe∣cted to ha' some wit, as well as your poets; both at drinking, and brea∣king of iests: and are companions for gallants. A man may skelder yee, now and then, of halfe a dozen shillings, or so. Doest thou not know that PANTALABVS there?

HIST.

No, I assure you, Captaine.

TVCC.

Goe, and bee acquainted with him, then; hee is a gent'man, parcell-poet, you slaue: his father was a man of worship, I tell thee. Goe, he pens high, loftie, in a new stalking straine; bigger then halfe the rimers i' the towne, againe: he was borne to fill thy mouth, MINOTAVRVS, he was: hee will teach thee to teare, and rand, Rascall, to him, cherish his muse, goe: thou hast fortie, fortie, shillings, I meane, stinkard, giue him in earnest, doe, he shall write for thee, slaue. If hee pen for thee once, thou shalt not need to trauell, with thy pumps full of grauell, any more, after a blinde iade and a hamper: and stalke vpon boords, and barrell heads, to an old crackt trumpet—

HIST.

Troth, I thinke I ha' not so much about me, Captaine.

TVCC.

It's no matter: giue him what thou hast: Stiffe ••oe, I'le giue my word for the rest: though it lacke a shilling, or two, it skils not: Goe, thou art an honest shifter, I'le ha' the statute repeal'd for thee. MINOS,

must tell thee, MINOS, thou hast deiected you gent'mans spirit excee∣dingly: do'st obserue? do'st note, little MINOS?

MINO.

Yes, sir.

TVCC.

Goe to then, raise; recouer, doe. Suffer him not to droop, in prospect of a player, a rogue, a stager: put twentie into his hand, twentie, ••esterces, I meane, and let no bodie see: goe, doe it, the worke shall com∣mend it selfe, be MINOS, I'le pay.

MINO.

Yes forsooth, Captaine.

2. PYR.

Doe not we serue a notable sharke?

TVCC.

And what new matters haue you now afoot, sirrah? ha? I would faine come with my cockatrice one day, and see a play; if I knew when there were a good bawdie one: but they say, you ha' nothing but humours, reuells, and satyres, that girde, and fart at the time, you slaue.

HIST.

No, I assure you, Captaine, not wee. They are on the other side of Tyber: we haue as much ribaldrie in our plaies, as can bee, as you would wish, Captaine: All the sinners, i' the suburbs, come, and applaud our action, daily.

TVCC.

I heare, you'll bring me o' the stage there; you'll play me, they say: I shall be presented by a sort of copper-lac't scoundrels of you: life of PLVTO, and you stage me, stinkard; your mansions shall sweat for't, your tabernacles, varlets, your Globes, and your Triumphs.

HIST.

Not we, by PHOEBVS, Captaine▪ doe not doe vs imputation without desert.

TVCC.

I wu' not, my good two-penny rascall: reach mee thy neufe. Do'st heare? What wilt thou giue mee a weeke, for my brace of beagles, here, my little point-trussers? you shall ha' them act among yee. Sirrah, you, pronounce. Thou shalt heare him speake, in king DARIVS dole∣full straine.

1. PYR.

O dolefull dayes! O direfull deadly dump! O wicked world! and worldly wickednesse! How can I hold my fist from crying, thump, In rue of this right rascall wretchednesse!

TVCC.

In an amorous vaine now, sirrah, peace.

1. PYR.

O, shee is wilder, and more hard, withall, Then beast, or bird, or tree, or stonie wall. Yet might shee loue me, to vpreare her state: I, but perhaps, shee hopes some nobler mate. Yet might shee loue me, to content her sire: I, but her reason masters her desire. Yet might shee loue me as her beauties thrall: I, but I feare, shee cannot loue at all.

TVCC.

Now, the horrible fierce Souldier, you, sirrah.

1. PYR.

What? will I braue thee? I, and beard thee too. A roman spirit scornes to beare a braine, So full of base pusillanimitie.

DEMET. HIST.

Excellent.

TVCC.

Nay, thou shalt see that, shall rauish thee anon: prick vp thine eares, stinkard: the Ghost, boies.

1. PYR.

Vindicta.

2. PYR.

Timoria.

1. PYR.

Vindicta.

2. PYR.

Timoria.

1. PYR.

Veni.

2. PYR.

Veni.

TVCC.

Now, thunder, sirrah, you, the rumbling plaier.

1. PYR.

I, but some bodie must crie (murder) then, in a small voice.

TVCC.

Your fellow-sharer, there, shall do't; Crie, sirrah, crie.

1. PYR.

Murder, murder.

2. PYR.

Who calls out murder? lady, was it you?

DEMET. HIST.

O, admirable good, I protest.

TVCC.

Sirrah, boy, brace your drumme a little straighter, and doe the t'other fellow there, hee in the— what sha' call him— and yet, stay too.

2. PYR.

Nay, and thou dalliest, then I am thy foe, And feare shall force, what friendship cannot win; Thy death shall burie what thy life conceales, Villaine! thou diest, for more respecting her—

1. PYR.

O, stay my Lord.

2. PYR.

Then me: yet speake the truth, and I will guerdon thee: But if thou dally once againe, thou diest.

TVCC.

Enough of this, boy.

2. PYR.

Why then lament therefore: damn'd be thy guts vnto king PLV∣TOES hell, and princely EREBVS; for sparrowes must haue foode.

HIST.

'Pray, sweet Captaine, let one of them doe a little of a ladie.

TVCC.

O! he will make thee eternally enamour'd of him, there: doe, sirrah, doe: 'twill allay your fellowes furie a little.

1. PYR.

Master, mocke on: the scorne thou giuest me, Pray IOVE, some lady may returne on thee.

2. PYR.

No: you shall see mee doe the Moore: Master, lend mee your scarfe a little.

TVCC.

Here, 'tis at thy seruice, boy.

2. PYR.

They with-draw to make them∣selues ready.

You, master MINOS, harke hither a little.

TVCC.

How do'st like him? art not rapt? art not tickled now? do'st not applaud, rascall? do'st not applaud?

HIST.

Yes: what will you aske for 'hem a weeke, Captaine?

TVCC.

No, you mangonizing slaue, I will not part from 'hem: you'll sell 'hem for enghles you: let's ha' good cheere to morrow-night at sup∣per, stalker, and then wee'll talke, good capon, and plouer, doe you heare, sirrah? and doe not bring your eating plaier with you there; I cannot a∣way with him: He will eate a legge of mutton, while I am in my porridge,

the leane POLVPHAGVS, his belly is like Barathrum, he lookes like a mid∣wife in mans apparell, the slaue. Nor the villanous-out-of-tune fiddler AENO••ARBVS, bring not him. What hast thou there? sixe and thir∣tie? ha?

HIST.

No, here's all I haue (Captaine) some fiue and twentie. Pray, sir, will you present, and accommodate it vnto the gentleman: for mine owne part, I am a meere stranger to his humour: besides, I haue some businesse inuites me hence, with Master ASINIVS LVPVS, the tribune.

TVCC.

Well: goe thy waies: pursue thy proiects, let mee alone with this desseigne; my POETASTER shall make thee a play, and thou shalt be a man of good parts, in it. But stay, let mee see: Doe not bring your AESOPE, your polititian; vnlesse you can ram vp his mouth with cloues: the slaue smells ranker then some sixteene dung-hills, and is seuenteene times more rotten: Mary, you may bring FRISKER, my zany: Hee's a good skipping swaggerer; and your fat foole there, my MANGO, bring him too: but let him not begge rapiers, nor scarfes, in his ouer-familiar playing face, nor rore out his barren bold iests, with a tormenting laugh∣ter, betweene drunke, and drie. Doe you heare, stiffe-toe? Giue him war∣ning, admonition, to forsake his saw••y glauering grace, and his goggle eie: it does not become him, sirrah: tell him so. I haue stood vp and defended you I, to gent'men, when you haue beene said to prey vpon pu'nees, and honest citizens, for socks, or buskins: or when they ha' call'd you vsurers, or brokers, or said, you were able to helpe to a peece of flesh— I haue sworne, I did not thinke so. Nor that you were the common retreats for punkes decai'd i' their practice. I cannot beleeue it of you—

HIST.

Thanke you, Captaine: IVPITER, and the rest of the gods confine your moderne delights, without disgust.

TVCC.

Stay, thou shalt see the Moore, ere thou goest: what's he, with the halfe-armes there, that salutes vs out of his cloke, like a motion? ha?

HIST.

O, sir, his dubblet's a little decaied; hee is otherwise a very simple honest fellow, sir, one DEMETRIVS, a dresser of plaies about the towne, here; we haue hir'd him to abuse HORACE, and bring him in, in a play, with all his gallants: as, TIBVLLVS, MECOENAS, CORNELIVS GALLVS, and the rest.

TVCC.

And: why so, stinkard?

HIST.

O, it will get vs a huge deale of money (Captaine) and wee haue need on't; for this winter ha's made vs all poorer, then so many staru'd snakes: No bodie comes at vs; not a gentleman, nor a—

TVCC.

But, you know nothing by him, doe you, to make a play of?

HIST.

Faith, not much, Captaine: but our Author will deuise, that, that shall serue in some sort.

TVCC.

Why, my PARNASSVS, here, shall helpe him, if thou wilt: Can thy Author doe it impudently enough?

HIST.

O, I warrant you, Captaine, and spitefully inough, too; hee ha's one of the most ouer-flowing ranke wits, in Rome. He will slander any man that breathes, if he disgust him.

TVCC.

The boy comes in on Minos 〈◊〉〈◊〉, who 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as he alls.

I'le know the poore, egregious, nitty rascall, and he haue these commendable qualities, I'le cherish him (stay, here comes the Tartar) I'le make a gathering for him, I: a purse, and put the poore slaue in fresh rags. Tell him so, to comfort him: well said, boy.

2. PYR.

Where art thou, boy? where is CALIPOLIS? Fight earth-quakes, in the entrailes of the earth, And easterne whirle-windes in the hellish shades: Some foule contagion of th'infected heauens Blast all the trees; and in their cursed tops The dismall night-rauen, and tragicke owle Breed, and become fore-runners of my fall.

TVCC.

Well, now fare thee well, my honest penny-biter: Commend me to seuen-shares and a halfe, and remember to morrow— if you lacke a seruice, you shall play in my name, rascalls, but you shall buy your owne cloth, and I'le ha' two shares for my countenance. Let thy author stay with mee.

DEME.

Yes, sir.

TVCC.

'Twas well done, little MINOS, thou didst stalke well; forgiue me that I said thou stunkst, MINOS: 'twas the sauour of a poet, I met swea∣ting in the street, hangs yet in my nostrills.

CRIS.

Who? HORACE?

TVCC.

I; he, do'st thou know him?

CRIS.

O, he forsooke me most barbarously, I protest.

TVCC.

Hang him fustie satyre, he smells all goate; hee carries a ram, vnder his arme-holes, the slaue: I am the worse when I see him. Did not MINOS impart?

CRIS.

Yes, here are twentie drachmes, he did conuey.

TVCC.

Well said, keepe 'hem, wee'll share anon; come, little MINOS.

CRIS.

Faith, Captaine, I'le be bold to shew you a mistris of mine, a iewellers wife, a gallant, as we goe along.

TVCC.

There spoke my Genius. MINOS, some of thy eringoes, little MINOS; send: come hither, PARNASSVS, I must ha' thee familiar with my little locust, here, 'tis a good vermine, they say. See, here's HORACE, and old TREBATIVS, the great lawier, in his companie; let's auoid him, now: He is too well seconded.

Act III. Scene V.

HORACE, TREBATIVS.

* 1.2 THere are, to whom I seeme excessiue sower; And past a satyres law, t'extend my power: Others, that thinke what euer I haue writ Wants pith, and matter to eternise it;

And that they could, in one daies light, disclose A thousand verses, such as I compose. What shall I doe, TREBATIVS? say.

TREB.

Surcease.

HORA.

And shall my Muse admit no more encrease?

TREB.

So I aduise.

HORA.

An ill death let mee die. If 'twere not best; but sleepe auoids mine eye: And I vse these, lest nights should tedious seeme.

TREB.

Rather, contend to sleepe, and liue like them, That holding golden sleepe in speciall price, Rub'd with sweet oiles, swim siluer Tyber thrice, And euery eu'en, with neat wine steeped be: Or, if such loue of writing rauish thee, Then dare to sing vnconquer'd CAESARS deeds; Who cheeres such actions, with aboundant meeds.

HORA.

That, father, I desire; but when I trie, I feele defects in euery facultie: Nor is't a labour fit for euery pen, To paint the horrid troups of armed men; The launces burst, in GALLIA'S slaughtred forces; Or wounded Parthians, tumbled from their horses: Great CAESARS warres cannot be fought with words.

TREB.

Yet, what his vertue in his peace affords, His fortitude, and iustice thou canst show; As wise LVCILIVS, honor'd SCIPIO.

HORA.

Of that, my powers shall suffer no neglect, When such sleight labours may aspire respect: But, if watch not a most chosen time, The humble wordes of FLACCVS cannot clime The' attentiue eare of CAESAR; nor must I With lesse obseruance shunne grosse flatterie: For he, reposed safe in his owne merit, Spurnes backe the gloses of a fawning spirit.

TREB.

But, how much better would such accents sound, Then, with a sad, and serious verse to wound PANTOLABVS, railing in his sawcie iests? Or NOMENTANVS spent in riotous feasts? "In satyres, each man (though vntoucht) complaines "As he were hurt; and hates such biting straines.

HORA.

What shall I doe? MILONIVS shakes his heeles In ceaslesse dances, when his braine once feeles The stirring feruour of the wine ascend; And that his eyes false number apprehend. CASTOR his horse; POLLVX loues handie fights: Thousand heads, a thousand choise delights.

My pleasure is in feet, my words to close, As, both our better, old LVCILIVS does: He, as his trustie friends, his bookes did trust With all his secrets; nor, in things vniust, Or actions lawfull, ran to other men: So, that the old mans life, describ'd was seene As in a votiue table in his lines; And to his steps my Genius inclines, Lucanian, or Apulian, I not whether; For the Venusian colonie plowes either: Sent thither, when the Sabines were forc'd thence (As old fame sings) to giue the place defence 'Gainst such, as seeing it emptie, might make rode Vpon the empire; or there sixe abode: Whether th' Apulian borderer it were, Or the Lucanian violence they feare. But this my stile no liuing man shall touch, If first I be not forc'd by base reproch; But, like a sheathed sword, it shall defend My innocent life; for, why should I contend To draw it out, when no malicious thiefe Robs my good name, the treasure of my life? O IVPITER, let it with rust be eaten, Before it touch, or insolently threaten The life of any with the least disease; So much I loue, and woe a generall peace. But, he that wrongs me (better, I proclame, He neuer had assai'd to touch my fame.) For he shall weepe, and walke with euery tongue Throughout the citie, infamously song. SERVIVS, the Praetor, threats the lawes, and vrne, If any at his deedes repine or spurne; The witch, CANIDIA, that ALBVCIVS got, Denounceth witch-craft, where shee loueth not: THVRIVS, the iudge, doth thunder worlds of ill, To such, as striue with his iudiciall will; "All men affright their foes in what they may, "Nature commands it, and men must obay. Obserue with me; "The wolfe his tooth doth vse: "The bull his horne. And, who doth this infuse, "But nature? There's luxurious SCAEVA; Trust His long-liu'd mother with him; His so iust And scrupulous right hand no mischiefe will; No more, then with his heele a wolfe will kill,

Or Oxe with iaw: Mary, let him alone With temper'd poison to remoue the croane. But, briefly, if to age I destin'd bee, Or that quick deaths black wings inuiron me; If rich, or poore; at Rome; or fate command I shall be banish't to some other land; What hiew soeuer, my whole state shall beare, I will write satyres still, in spight of feare.

TREB.

HORACE; I feare, thou draw'st no lasting breath: And that some great mans friend will be thy death.

HORA.

What? when the man that first did satyrise, Durst pull the skin ouer the eares of vice; And make, who stood in outward fashion cleare, Giue place, as foule within; shall I forbeare? Did LAELIVS, or the man, so great with fame, That from sackt Carthage fetcht his worthy name, Storme, that LVCILIVS did METELLVS pierce? Or bury LVPVS quick, in famous verse? Rulers, and subiects, by whole tribes he checkt; But vertue, and her friends did still protect: And when from sight, or from the iudgement seat, The vertuous SCIPIO, and wise LAELIVS met, Vnbrac't, with him in all light sports, they shar'd; Till, their most frugall suppers were prepar'd. What e're I am, though both for wealth, and wit; Beneath LVCILIVS, I am pleas'd to sit, Yet, enuy (spight of her empoisoned brest) Shall say, I liu'd in grace here, with the best; And, seeking in weake trash to make her wound, Shall find me solid, and her teeth vnsound: 'Lesse, learn'd TREBATIVS censure disagree.

TREB.

No, HORACE, I of force must yeeld to thee, Only, take heed, as being aduis'd by mee, Lest thou incurre some danger: Better pause Then rue thy ignorance of the sacred lawes; There's iustice, and great action may be su'd 'Gainst such, as wrong mens fames with verses lewd.

HORA.

I, with lewd verses; such as libels bee, And aym'd at persons of good qualitie. I reuerence and adore that iust decree: But if they shall be sharp, yet modest rimes That spare mens persons, and but taxe their crimes, Such, shall in open court, find currant passe▪ Were CAESAR iudge, and with the makers grace.

TREB.

Nay, I'le adde more; if thou thy selfe being cleare, Shalt taxe in person a man, fit to boare Shame, and reproch; his sute shall quickly bee Dissolu'd in laughter, and thou thence sit free.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Hor. li. 1. Sat. 9
• * 1.2

  Hor. Sat. 1. li. 2.