The divell is an asse a comedie acted in the yeare 1616, by His Majesties servants / the author, Ben. Iohnson.

Act. III. Scene. III.

Ever-ill. Plutarchus. Guilt-head. Meer-craft. Fitz-dottrell.

O, Are you heere, Sir? 'pray you let us whisper.

Plu.

Father, deare Father, trust him if you love me.

Guil.

Why, I doe meane it, boy; but, what I doe, Must not come easily from me: Wee must deale With Courtiers, boy, as Courtiers deale with us. If I have a Businesse there, with any of them, Why, I must waite, I'am sure on't, Son▪ and though My Lord dispatch me, yet his worshipfull man— Will keepe me for his sport, a moneth, or two, To shew me with my fellow Cittizens. I must make his traine long, and full, one quarter; And helpe the spectacle of his greatnesse. There, Nothing is done at once, but injuries, boy: And they come head-long! all their good turnes move not, Or very slowly.

Plu.

Yet sweet father, trust him.

Gui.

Well, I will thinke..

Ev.

Come, you must do't, Sir. I'am undone else, and your Lady Tail-bush Has sent for me to dinner, and my cloaths Are all at pawne. I had sent out this morning, Before I heard you were come to towne, some twenty Of my Epistles, and no one returne—

Mer.

Why, I ha' told you o'this. This comes of wearing * 1.1Scarlet, gold lace, and cut-works! your fine gartring! With your blowne roses, Cousin! and your eating

Phesant, and Godwit. here in London! haunting The Globes, and Mermaides! and wedging in with Lords, Still at the table! and affecting lechery, In velvet! where could you ha'contented your selfe With cheese, salt-butter, and a pickled hering, I'the Low-countries; there worne cloth, and fustian! Beene satisfied with a leape o'your Host's daughter, In garrison, a wench of a stoter! or, Your Sulters wife, i'the leaguer, of two blanks! You never, then, had runne upon this flat, To write your letters missive, and send out Your privy seales, that thus have frighted off All your acquaintance; that they shun you at distance, Worse, then you do the Bailies!

Eve.

Pox upon you. I come not to you for counsell,* 1.2 I lack money.

Mer.

You doe not thinke, what you owe me already?

Eve.

I? They owe you that meane to pay you. I'll besworne, I never meant it. Come, you will project, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I shall undoe your practice,* 1.3 for this moneth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 You know me.

Mer.

I yo'are a right sweet nature!

Eve.

Well, that's all one!

Mer.

You'll leave this Empire, one day? You will not ever have this tribute payd, Your scepter o'the sword?

Eve.

Tye up your wit, Doe, and provoke me not—

Mer.

Will you, Sir, helpe, To what I shall provoke another for you?

Eve.

I cannot tell; try me: I thinke I am not So utterly, of an ore un-to-be-melted, But I can doe my selfe good, on occasions.

Mer.

Strike in then,* 1.4 for your part. Mr. Fitz-dottrel If I transgresse in point of manners, afford me Your best construction; I must beg my freedome From your affaires, this day.

Fit.

How, Sir.

Mer.

It is In succor of this Gentlemans occasions,* 1.5 My kins-man—

Fit.

You'll not doe me that affront, Sir.

Mer.

I am sorry you should so interpret it, But, Sir, it stands upon his being invested, In a new, office, he has stood for, long: Master of the Dependances!* 1.6 A place Of my projection too, Sir, and hath met Much opposition; but the State, now see's That great necessity of it, as after all Their writing, and their speaking, against Divells, They have erected it. His booke is drawne— For, since, there will be differences, daily, 'Twixt Gentlemen; and that the roaring manner Is growne offensive; that those few, we call The civill men o'the sword, abhorre the vapours; They shall refer now, hither, for their processe; And such as trespasse 'gainst the rule of Court, Are to be fin'd—

Fit.

In troth, a pretty place!

Mer.

A kinde of arbitrary Court 'twill be, Sir.

Fit.

I shall have matter for it, I beleeve, Ere it be long: I had a distast.

Mer.

But now, Sir, My learned councell, they must have a feeling, They'll part, Sir, with no bookes, without the hand gout Be oyld, and I must furnish. If 't be money, To me streight. I am Mine, Mint and Exchequer, To supply all. What is't? a hundred pou••d?

Eve.

No th'Harpey, now stands on a hundred pieces.

Mer.

Why, he must have 'hem, if he will. To morrow, Sir, Will equally serve your occasion's,— And therefore, let me obtaine, that you will yeeld To timing a poore Gentlemans distresses, In termes of hazard.—

Fit.

By no meanes!

Mer.

I must Get him him this money, and will.—

Fit.

Sir, I protest, I'd rather stand engag'd for it my selfe: Then you should leave me.

Mer.

O good Sir, doe you thinke So coursely of our manners, that we would, For any need of ours, be prest to take it: Though you be pleas'd to offer it.

Fit.

Why by heaven, I meane it!

Mer.

I can never beleeve lesse. * 1.7But we, Sir, must preserve our dignity, As you doe publish yours. By your faire leave, Sir.

Fit.

As I am a Gentleman, if you doe offer To leave me now, or if you doe refuse me, I will not thinke you love me.

Mer.

Sir, I honour you. And with just reason, for these noble notes, Of the nobility, you pretend too! But, Sir — I would know, why? a motive (he a stranger) You should doe this?

(Eve.

You'll mar all with your finenesse)

Fit.

Why, that's all one, if 'twere, Sir, but my fancy. But I have a Businesse, that perhaps I'd have Brought to his office.

Mer.

O, Sir! I have done, then; If he can be made profitable, to you.

Fit.

Yes, and it shall be one of my ambitions To 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it the first Businesse? May I not?

Eve.

So you doe meane to make't, a perfect Businesse.

Fit.

Nay I'll doe that assure you: shew me once.

〈◊〉〈◊〉

Sir•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 concernes, the first be a perfect Businesse, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his ow•• ••onour!

Eve.

I, and th'reputation To 〈◊〉〈◊〉 my place.

Fit.

Why, why, doe I take this course, else? 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not altogether, an Asse, good Gentlemen, Wherefore should I consult you? doe you thinke? To make a song on't? How's your manner? tell us.

Mer.

Doe, satisfie him: give him the whole course.

Eve.

First, by request, or otherwise you offer Your Businesse to the Court: wherein you crave: The judgement of the Master and the Assistants.

Fit.

Well, that's done, now, what doe you upon it▪

Eve.

We streight Sir, haue recourse to the spring-head;

Visit the ground; and so disclose the nature: If it will carry, or no. If we doe finde, By your proportions it is like to prove A sullen, and blacke Bus'nesse That it be Incorrigible; and out of, treaty; then, We file it, a Dependance!

Fit.

So 'tis fil'd. What followes? I doe love the order of these things.

Eve.

We then advise the party, if he be A man of meanes and havings▪ that forth-with, He settle his estate: if not, at least That he pretend it. For, by that, the world Takes notice, thatt inow is a Dependance. And this we call, Sir, Publication.

Fit.

Very sufficient! After Publication, now?

Eve

Then we grant out our Processe, which is divers▪ Either by Chartell, Sir, or ore-tenus, Wherein the Challenger, and Challengee Or (with your Spaniard) your Provocador, And Provocado, have their severall courses—

Fit.

I have enough on't! for an hundred pieces? Yes, for two hundred, under-write me doe. Your man will take my bond?

Mer.

That he will, sure, But, these same Citizens, they are such sharks! There's an old debt of forty,* 1.8 I ga'my word For one is runne away, into the Bermudas, And he will hooke in that, or he wi'not doe.

Fit.

Why let him. That and the ring, and a hundred pieces, Will all but make two hundred?

Mer.

No,* 1.9 no more, Sir. What ready Arithmetique you have? do you heare? A pretty mornings worke for you, this? Do it, You shall ha' twenty pound on't.

Gui.

Twenty pieces?

(Plu.

Good Father, do't)

Mer.

You will hooke still? well▪ Shew us your ring. You could not ha'done this, now With gentlenesse, at first, we might ha'thank'd you▪ But groane, and ha'your courtesies come from you Like a hard stoole, and stinke? A man may draw Your teeth out easier, then your money? Come, Were little Guilt-head heere, no better a nature, I should ne'r love him,* 1.10 that could pull his lips off, now▪ Was not thy mother a Gentlewoman?

Plu.

Yes, Sir.

Mer.

And went to the Court at Christmas, and St. Georges-tide? And lent the Lords-men, chaines?

Plu.

Of gold, and pearle, Sir.

Mer.

I knew, thou must take, after some body! Thou could'st not be else. This was no shop-looke I'll ha'thee Captaine Guilt-head, and march up, And take in Pimlico, and kill the bush, At every taverne! Thou shalt have a wife, If smocks will mount,* 1.11 boy. How now? you ha'there now Some Bristo-stone, or Cornish counterfet You'ld put upon us.

Guil.

No, Sir, I assure you:

Looke on his luster! he will speake himselfe! I'le gi'you leave to put him i'the Mill, H'is no great, large stone, but a true Paragon, H'has all his corners, view him well.

Mer.

H'is yellow.

Gui.

Vpo'my faith, Sir, o'the right black-water, And very deepe! H'is set without a foyle, too. Here's one o'the yellow water, I'll sell cheape.

Mer.

And what doe you valew this at? thirty pound?

Gui.

No, Sir, he cost me forty, ere he was set.

Mer.

Turnings, you meane? I know your Equivocks▪ You'are growne the better Fathers of'hem o'late, Well, where't must goe, twill be judg'd, and therefore, Looke you't be right. You shall have fity pound for't. * 1.12Not a dencer more! And because you would Have things dispatch'd, Sir, I'll goe presently, Inquire out this Lady, If you thinke good Sir. Having an hundred pieces ready, you may Part with those, now, to serve my kinsmans turnes, That he may wait upon you, anon, the freer; And take 'hem when you ha' seal'd, againe, of Guilt-head.

Fit.

I care not if I doe!

Mer.

And dispatch all, Together,

Fit.

Th'are just: a hundred pieces! I' ha' told 'hem over, twice a day, these two months.

Mer.

* 1.13Well, goe and seale then, Sir, make your returne As speedy as you can.

Eve.

Come gi' me.

Mer.

Soft Sir.

Eve.

Marry, and faire too, then. I'll no delaying, Sir.

Mer.

But you will heare?

Eve.

Yes, when I have my divident.

Mer.

There's forty pieces for you.

Eve.

What is this for?

Mer.

Your halfe. You know that Guilt-head must ha'twenty.

Eve.

And what's your ring there? shall I ha' none o'that?

Mer.

O, that's to be given to a Lady!

Eve.

Is't so?

Mer.

By that good light, it is.

Eve.

Come, gi'me Ten pieces more then.

Mer.

Why?

Eve.

For Guilt, head? Sir, Doe you thinke, I'll ••low him any such share.

Mer.

You must.

Eve.

Must I? Doe you your musts, Sir, I'll doe mine, You wi'not part with the whole, Sir? Will you? Goe too. Gi' me ten pieces!

Mer.

By what law doe you this?

Eve.

E'n Lyon-law, Sir, I must roare else.

Mer.

Good!

Eve.

Yo'have heard, how th' Asse made his divisions wisely?

Mer.

And I am he, I thanke you.

Eve.

Much good doe you, Sir.

Mer.

I shall be rid o'this tyranny, one day?

Eve.

Not, While you doe eate, and lie about the towne here; And coozen i'your bullions and I stand Your name of credit, and compound your businesse; Adjourne beatings every terme; and make New parties for your projects. I have now A pretty tasque of it, to hold you in Wi'your Lady Taile-bush: but the toy will be, How we shall both come off?

Mer.

Leave your doubting, And doe your portion, what's assign'd you: I

Never fail'd yet.

Eve.

With reference to your aides? You'll still be unthankfull. Where shall I meete you anon? You ha' some feate to be done alone, now, I see; You wish me gone, well, I will finde you out, And bring you after to the audit.

Mer.

S'light! There's Ingines share too▪ I had forgot! This raigne Is too-too unsuportable! I must Quit my selfe of this vassalege! Ingine! welcome.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Mere-craft ••ells him of his faults.
• * 1.2

  He repines,
• * 1.3

  and threa∣tens him.
• * 1.4

  They joyne••
• * 1.5

  Meere-craft pretends bu∣sinesse.
• * 1.6

  Meere-craft describes the office of Depen∣dancy.
• * 1.7

  He offers to be gone.
• * 1.8

  He whispers Fitz-dottrel aside.
• * 1.9

  And then Guilt-head.
• * 1.10

  He pulls Plutarchus by the lips.
• * 1.11

  He tu••ns to old Guilt-head.
• * 1.12

  Now to Fitz-dot∣trel.
• * 1.13

  He turnes 'hem out to∣gether. And Everill and he fall to share.