The sparagus garden a comedie. Acted in the yeare 1635. by the then Company of Revels, at Salisbury Court. The author Richard Brome.

Act 3. Scene 5.

Enter three Courtiers and Ladies: Cautious aloofe.

Sam.

O here come the great guests.

Gil.

And these are noble ones indeed; these are Courtiers Clinquant, and no counterfeit stuffe upon 'hem: I know 'hem all, every Lady with her owne husband too: what a vertuous 'honest age is this: and see if thine Vncle bee not at his old game, bopeepe i'the taile of 'hem. Hee shall follow 'hem no fur∣ther: Sir Arnold Cautious, Noble Knight you are well en∣counter'd.

Ex. Court.

Caut.

Good Master Gold wyer, doe you know these Ladies; or be they Ladyes, ha?

Gil.

Yes, and noble ones, the three Graces of the Court, the Lady Stately, the Lady Handsome, and the Lady peerelesse, doe not you know 'hem?

Caut.

No not I.

Gil.

How the slave twitters; you look not up at greatnes, you mind too much the worldly things that are beneath you: if you had such a Lady under you, (of your owne I meane) you would mind her.

Caut.

Oh fie, fie, fie.

Gil.

Looke no more aft•…•…r 'hem, they are gone: besides they are vertuous, and too too great for you: when will you get a convenient wife of your owne, to work out the dry itch of a stale Batchelour?

Caut.

Goe, goe, you are a wag, I itch not that way.

Gil.

Will you goe this way with me then, and heare what I wil say to you?

Caut.

With all my heart, I am free from businesse.

Gil.

You have a Nephew, whose sister I marryed, a vertuous wife she is, and I love him the better for't; he is a younger bro∣ther, and borne to no great fortune: now you are very rich, a Batchelour, and therefore I thinke child lesse—

Caut.

Introth Mr. Gold-wyer you must pardon mee, I may not stay with you: I had almost forgot a most important busi∣nesse.

Sam.

Ee'n now he had none.

Gil.

Nay good Sir Arnold Cautious, you know not what Ile say.

Caut.

I say he is an unthrift, a Squanderer, and must not expect supplyes from me.

Gil.

He does not, shall not, not to the value of a token: pray stay, and heare me sir; tis no ill ayre to stay in.

Caut.

I withall my heeart good Mr. Gold-wyer; I like the aire well, and your motion hitherto.

Gil.

Will you be pleas'd to doe your kinsman the favour to fur∣ther him in a match; I mean an honest lawfull marriage match—but with your countenance, and a good word at most.

Caut.

The most unthankfull office in the world: pray use some other friend in't: indeed I stay too long.

Gil.

Heare but who it is that he loves, how likely he is to ob∣taine, what abundant profit the match may bring him, and the desperate undoing danger he falls into if he be not matched, and then doe your pleasure.

Caut.

Why what new danger is he towards, more than the old

ill company he was wont to keep?

Gil.

Oh sir, he is now in league with a companion more dread∣full than 'hem all, a fellow that is in part a Poet, and in part a Souldier.

Caut.

Bounce, bounce.

Gil.

You have hit upon his name: his name is Bounce, do you know him sir?

Caut.

Not I, nor desire acquaintance with either of his qua∣lities.

Gil.

He is a gentleman sir, that has been upon some unfortunate late services, that have not answer'd his merit.

Caut.

And now he is come home to right himselfe, by writing his owne meritorious acts, is he?

Gil.

Good introth, I wish you would see 'hem, to come over 'hem with a jeere or two; I know you are good at it: They are in an Arbour here close by, drinking to their Muses, and glori∣fying one another for eithers excellency in the art most Poe∣tically.

Caut.

Glorifie doe you say? I have heard Poets the most en∣vious det ractors of one another of all Creatures, next to the very Beggers.

Gil.

Abroad perhaps and asunder, but together there's no such amity: You never saw 'hem drinke; pray see 'hem sir, it may take your Nephew off of his Ningle, who hath infected him with Poe∣try already: and twenty to one, if he faile in the match, which I was about to mention; he will winne him away to the wars too, and then he may be lost for ever.

Caut.

Good Mr. Gold-wyer goe you to your company, I am not a man of reckoning amongst such; besides, I seldome drink betwixt meales.

Wat.

Athis owne cost he meanes.

Gil.

I commend your temper: you shall not bee in the recko∣ning; but I beseech you let me prevaile with you: See, wee are upon hem: save you Gentlemen: I have brought you a noble friend, your uncle; I know he is welcome to you brother Wat; and you I am sure will make him so Mr. Bounce: when you shall heare he is an admirer of Poetry and warre.

Caut.

Even a farre off I assure yee: I never durst approach near

the fury of either of the fiery qualities.

Sam.

It is your modesty, not feare that keeps you at distance I imagine.

Caut.

Poets may imagine any thing: imagination is their wealth, some of 'hem would be but poore else: are you turn'd Poet Nephew?

Wat.

For my private recreation sir.

Caut.

What by writing Verses to win some Mistresses to your private recreation: meane you so?

Sam.

You dare not sir blaspheme the vertuous use Of sacred Poetry, nor the fame traduce Of Poets, who not alone immortall be, But can give others immortality. Poets that can men into stars translate, And hurle men downe under the feete of Fate: Twas not Achilles sword, but Homers pen, That made brave Hector dye the best of men: And if that powerfull Homer likewise wou'd, Hellen had beene a hagge, and Troy had stood.

Gil.

Well said Poet, thou tumblest out old ends as well as the best of 'hem.

Sam.

Poets they are the life and death of things, Queens give them honour, for the greatest Kings Have bin their subjects.

Caut.

Enough, enough; you are the first good Poet that e're I saw weare so good a Countenance: leave it, I would not have a gentleman meddle with Poetry for spoyling of his face: you sel∣dome see a Poet look out at a good Visnomy.

Sam.

Think you so sir?

Caut.

Yes, and that it is a Poeticall Policy, where the face is naturally good without spot or blemish, to deface it by drinking, or wenching, to get a name by't.

Sam.

A death deserving scandall.

Gil.

Hold, hold.

They scuffle, and Wat throwes. Sam, and of∣fers to stab him. Gil. holds his Dagger.

Sam.

Thy malice, and thy ignorance Have doom'd thee.

Gil.

Gentlemen what meane yee?

Wat.

My blood must not endure it.

Gil.

You have wrong'd us all, and me the most.

Wat.

The wrong is chiefely mine; yet you adde to it By hindring my just vengeance.

Sam.

Ile find a time to right you, or my selfe.

Exit.

Wat.

My next sight of thee is thy death: I feare you are hurt sir; are you, pray sir tell me?

Caut.

Let me first admire thy goodnesse and thy pitty: My owne true naturall Nephew.

Gil.

Now it workes.

Caut.

I now consider, and will answer thee In a full measure of true gratitude.

Wat.

But good sir are you not hurt? if you bleed, I bleed with you.

Caut.

Oh sincere Nephew, good boy I am not hurt, Nor can I thinke of hurt, my thoughts are bent Upon thy good; you were speaking of a choyse sir, My Nephew would be matcht to, let me know the party.

Gil.

Will you sir stand his friend?

Caut.

Let me but know the party and her friend, And instantly about it.

Gil.

He is catch'd.

Wat.

How am I bound to you!

Caut.

Nephew I am yet bound to thee, and shall not rest till I am dis-ingag'd by doing this office for thee: what is she, let me know?

Gil.

Sir, as we walk you shall know all: ile pay the reckoning within as we passe.

Caut.

But by the way Nephew, I must bind you from Poetry.

Wat.

For a Wife you shall sir.

Gil.

Poetry, though it be of a quite contrary nature, is as pretty a jewell as plaine deal•…•…ng, but they that use it forget the Pro∣verb.

Ex.