SCENE I. — THE MIDDLE AISLE OF ST. PAUL'S.SHIFT. [COMING FORWARD.] This is rare, I have set up my bills withoutdiscovery.[ENTER ORANGE.ORANGE. What, signior Whiffe! what fortune has brought you into thesewest parts?SHIFT. Troth, signior, nothing but your rheum; I have been taking an ounceof tobacco hard by here, with a gentleman, and I am come to spit private inPaul's. 'Save you, sir.ORANGE. Adieu, good signior Whiffe.[PASSES ONWARD.[ENTER CLOVE.CLOVE. Master Apple-John! you are well met; when shall we sup together,and laugh, and be fat with those good wenches, ha?SHIFT. Faith, sir, I must now leave you, upon a few humours and occasions;but when you please, sir.[EXIT.CLOVE. Farewell, sweet Apple-John! I wonder there are no more store ofgallants here.MIT. What be these two, signior?COR. Marry, a couple, sir, that are mere strangers to the whole scope ofour play; only come to walk a turn or two in this scene of Paul's, bychance.ORANGE. Save you, good master Clove!CLOVE. Sweet master Orange.MIT. How! Clove and Orange?COR. Ay, and they are well met, for 'tis as dry an Orange as ever grew:nothing but salutation, and "O lord, sir!" and "It pleases you to say so,sir!" one that can laugh at a jest for company with a most plausible andextemporal grade; and some hour after in private ask you what it was. Theother monsieur, Clove, is a more spiced youth; he will sit you a wholeafternoon sometimes in a bookseller's shop, reading the Greek, Italian, andSpanish, when he understands not a word of either; if he had the tongues tohis suits, he were an excellent linguist.CLOVE. Do you hear this reported for certainty?ORANGE. O lord, sir.[ENTER PUNTARVOLO AND CARLO, FOLLOWED BY TWO SERVING-MEN, ONE LEADING ADOG, THE OTHER BEARING A BAG.PUNT. Sirrah, take my cloak; and you, sir knave, follow me closer. Ifthou losest my dog, thou shalt die a dog's death; I will hang thee.CAR. Tut, fear him not, he's a good lean slave; he loves a dog well, Iwarrant him; I see by his looks, I: — Mass, he's somewhat like him. 'Slud[TO THE SERVANT.] poison him, make him away with a crooked pin, orsomewhat, man; thou may'st have more security of thy life; and — So sir;what! you have not put out your whole venture yet, have you?PUNT. No, I do want yet some fifteen or sixteen hundred pounds; but mylady, my wife, is 'Out of her Humour', she does not now go.CAR. No! how then?PUNT. Marry, I am now enforced to give it out, upon the return of myself,my dog, and my cat.CAR. Your cat! where is she?PUNT. My squire has her there, in the bag; sirrah, look to her. Howlik'st thou my change, Carlo?CAR. Oh, for the better, sir; your cat has nine lives, and your wife hasbut one.PUNT. Besides, she will never be sea-sick, which will save me so much inconserves. When saw you signior Sogliardo?CAR. I came from him but now; he is at the herald's office yonder; herequested me to go afore, and take up a man or two for him in Paul's,against his cognisance was ready.PUNT. What, has he purchased arms, then?CAR. Ay, and rare ones too; of as many colours as e'er you saw any fool'scoat in your life. I'll go look among yond' bills, an I can fit him withlegs to his arms.PUNT. With legs to his arms! Good! I will go with you, sir.[THEY GO TO READ THE BILLS.ENTER FASTIDIOUS, DELIRO, AND MACILENTE.FAST. Come, let's walk in Mediterraneo: I assure you, sir, I am not theleast respected among ladies; but let that pass: do you know how to gointo the presence, sir?MACI. Why, on my feet, sir.FAST. No, on your head, sir; for 'tis that must bear you out, I assureyou; as thus, sir. You must first have an especial care so to wear yourhat, that it oppress not confusedly this your predominant, or foretop;because, when you come at the presence-door, you may with once or twicestroking up your forehead, thus, enter with your predominant perfect; thatis, standing up stiff.MACI. As if one were frighted?FAST. Ay, sir.MACI. Which, indeed, a true fear of your mistress should do, rather thangum-water, or whites of eggs; is't not so, sir?FAST. An ingenious observation. Give me leave to crave your name, sir?DELI. His name is Macilente, sir.FAST. Good signior Macilente, if this gentleman, signior Deliro, furnishyou, as he says he will, with clothes, I will bring you, to-morrow by thistime, into the presence of the most divine and acute lady in court; youshall see sweet silent rhetorick, and dumb eloquence speaking in her eye,but when she speaks herself, such an anatomy of wit, so sinewised andarterised, that 'tis the goodliest model of pleasure that ever was tobehold. Oh! she strikes the world into admiration of her; O, O, O! Icannot express them, believe me.MACI. O, your only admiration is your silence, sir.PUNT. 'Fore God, Carlo, this is good! let's read them again.[READS THE BILL."If there be any lady or gentlewoman of good carriage that is desirous toentertain to her private uses, a young, straight, and upright gentleman, ofthe age of five or six and twenty at the most; who can serve in the natureof a gentleman-usher, and hath little legs of purpose, and a black satinsuit of his own, to go before her in; which suit, for the more sweetening,now lies in lavender; and can hide his face with her fan, if need require;or sit in the cold at the stair foot for her, as well as another gentleman:let her subscribe her name and place, and diligent respect shall be given."PUNT. This is above measure excellent, ha!CAR. No, this, this! here's a fine slave.[READS."If this city, or the suburbs of the same, do afford any young gentleman ofthe first, second, or third head, more or less, whose friends are butlately deceased, and whose lands are but new come into his hands, that, tobe as exactly qualified as the best of our ordinary gallants are, isaffected to entertain the most gentleman-like use of tobacco; as first, togive it the most exquisite perfume; then, to know all the delicate sweetforms for the assumption of it; as also the rare corollary and practice ofthe Cuban ebolition, euripus and whiff, which he shall receive or take inhere at London, and evaporate at Uxbridge, or farther, if it please him.If there be any such generous spirit, that is truly enamoured of these goodfaculties; may it please him, but by a note of his hand to specify theplace or ordinary where he uses to eat and lie; and most sweet attendance,with tobacco and pipes of the best sort, shall be ministered. 'Stet,quaeso, candide Lector.'"PUNT. Why, this is without parallel, this.CAR. Well, I'll mark this fellow for Sogliardo's use presently.PUNT. Or rather, Sogliardo, for his use.CAR. Faith, either of them will serve, they are both good properties:I'll design the other a place too, that we may see him.PUNT. No better place than the Mitre, that we may be spectators with you,Carlo. Soft, behold who enters here:ENTER SOGLIARDO.Signior Sogliardo! save you.SOG. Save you, good sir Puntarvolo; your dog's in health, sir, I see: Hownow, Carlo?CAR. We have ta'en simple pains, to choose you out followers here.[SHOWS HIM THE BILLS.PUNT. Come hither, signior.CLOVE. Monsieur Orange, yon gallants observe us; prithee let's talkfustian a little, and gull them; make them believe we are great scholars.ORANGE. O lord, sir!CLOVE. Nay, prithee let us, believe me, — you have an excellent habit indiscourse.ORANGE. It pleases you to say so, sir.CLOVE. By this church, you have, la; nay, come, begin — Aristotle, in hisdaemonologia, approves Scaliger for the best navigator in his time; and inhis hypercritics, he reports him to be Heautontimorumenos: — youunderstand the Greek, sir?ORANGE. O, good sir!MACI. For society's sake he does. O, here be a couple of fine tame parrots!CLOVE. Now, sir, whereas the ingenuity of the time and the soul'ssynderisis are but embrions in nature, added to the panch of Esquiline, andthe inter-vallum of the zodiac, besides the ecliptic line being optic, andnot mental, but by the contemplative and theoric part thereof, dothdemonstrate to us the vegetable circumference, and the ventosity of thetropics, and whereas our intellectual, or mincing capreal (according to themetaphysicks) as you may read in Plato's Histriomastix — You conceive mesir?ORANGE. O lord, sir!CLOVE. Then coming to the pretty animal, as reason long since is fled toanimals, you know, or indeed for the more modelising, or enamelling, orrather diamondising of your subject, you shall perceive the hypothesis, orgalaxia, (whereof the meteors long since had their initial inceptions andnotions,) to be merely Pythagorical, mathematical, and aristocratical —For, look you, sir, there is ever a kind of concinnity and species — Letus turn to our former discourse, for they mark us not.FAST. Mass, yonder's the knight Puntarvolo.DELI. And my cousin Sogliardo, methinks.MACI. Ay, and his familiar that haunts him, the devil with the shining face.DELI. Let 'em alone, observe 'em not.[SOGLIARDO, PUNTARVOLO, AND CARLO, WALK TOGETHER.SOG. Nay, I will have him, I am resolute for that. By this parchment,gentlemen, I have been so toiled among the harrots yonder, you will notbelieve! they do speak in the strangest language, and give a man thehardest terms for his money, that ever you knew.CAR. But have you arms, have you arms?SOG. I'faith, I thank them; I can write myself gentleman now; here's mypatent, it cost me thirty pound, by this breath.PUNT. A very fair coat, well charged, and full of armory.SOG. Nay, it has as much variety of colours in it, as you have seen a coathave; how like you the crest, sir?PUNT. I understand it not well, what is't?SOG. Marry, sir, it is your boar without a head, rampant. A boar withouta head, that's very rare!CAR. Ay, and rampant too! troth, I commend the herald's wit, he hasdecyphered him well: a swine without a head, without brain, wit, anythingindeed, ramping to gentility. You can blazon the rest, signior, can younot?SOG. O, ay, I have it in writing here of purpose; it cost me two shillingthe tricking.CAR. Let's hear, let's hear.PUNT. It is the most vile, foolish, absurd, palpable, and ridiculousescutcheon that ever this eye survised. — Save you, good monsieurFastidious.[THEY SALUTE AS THEY MEET IN THE WALK.COR. Silence, good knight; on, on.SOG. [READS.] "Gyrony of eight pieces; azure and gules; between threeplates, a chevron engrailed checquy, or, vert, and ermins; on a chiefargent, between two ann'lets sable, a boar's head, proper."CAR. How's that! on a chief argent?SOG. [READS.] "On a chief argent, a boar's head proper, between twoann'lets sable."CAR. 'Slud, it's a hog's cheek and puddings in a pewter field, this.[HERE THEY SHIFT. FASTIDIOUS MIXES WITH PUNTARVOLO; CARLO AND SOGLIARDO;DELIRO AND MACILENTE; CLOVE AND ORANGE; FOUR COUPLE.SOG. How like you them, signior?PUNT. Let the word be, 'Not without mustard': your crest is very rare, sir.CAR. A frying-pan to the crest, had had no fellow.FAST. Intreat your poor friend to walk off a little, signior, I willsalute the knight.CAR. Come, lap it up, lap it up.FAST. You are right well encounter'd, sir; how does your fair dog?PUNT. In reasonable state, sir; what citizen is that you were consortedwith? A merchant of any worth?FAST. 'Tis signior Deliro, sir.PUNT. Is it he? — Save you, sir![THEY SALUTE.DELI. Good sir Puntarvolo!MACI. O what copy of fool would this place minister, to one endued withpatience to observe it!CAR. Nay, look you, sir, now you are a gentleman, you must carry a moreexalted presence, change your mood and habit to a more austere form; beexceeding proud, stand upon your gentility, and scorn every man; speaknothing humbly, never discourse under a nobleman, though you never saw himbut riding to the star-chamber, it's all one. Love no man: trust no man:speak ill of no man to his face; nor well of any man behind his back.Salute fairly on the front, and wish them hanged upon the turn. Spreadyourself upon his bosom publicly, whose heart you would eat in private.These be principles, think on them; I'll come to you again presently.[EXIT.PUNT. [TO HIS SERVANT.] Sirrah, keep close; yet not so close: thy breathwill thaw my ruff.SOG. O, good cousin, I am a little busy, how does my niece? I am to walkwith a knight, here.ENTER FUNGOSO WITH HIS TAILOR.FUNG. O, he is here; look you, sir, that's the gentleman.TAI. What, he in the blush-coloured satin?FUNG. Ay, he, sir; though his suit blush, he blushes not, look you, that'sthe suit, sir: I would have mine such a suit without difference, suchstuff, such a wing, such a sleeve, such a skirt, belly and all; therefore,pray you observe it. Have you a pair of tables?FAST. Why, do you see, sir, they say I am fantastical; why, true, I knowit, and I pursue my humour still, in contempt of this censorious age.'Slight, an a man should do nothing but what a sort of stale judgmentsabout him this town will approve in him, he were a sweet ass: I'd beg him,i'faith. I ne'er knew any more find fault with a fashion, than they thatknew not how to put themselves into it. For mine own part, so I pleasemine own appetite, I am careless what the fusty world speaks of me. Puh!FUNG. Do you mark, how it hangs at the knee there?TAI. I warrant you, sir.FUNG. For God's sake do, not all; do you see the collar, sir?TAI. Fear nothing, it shall not differ in a stitch, sir.FUNG. Pray heaven it do not! you'll make these linings serve, and help meto a chapman for the outside, will you?TAI. I'll do my best, sir: you'll put it off presently.FUNG. Ay, go with me to my chamber you shall have it — but make haste ofit, for the love of a customer; for I'll sit in my old suit, or else lie abed, and read the 'Arcadia' till you have done.[EXIT WITH HIS TAILOR.RE-ENTER CARLO.CAR. O, if ever you were struck with a jest, gallants, now, now, now, I dousher the most strange piece of military profession that ever wasdiscovered in 'Insula Paulina'.FAST. Where? where?PUNT. What is he for a creature?CAR. A pimp, a pimp, that I have observed yonder, the rarest superficiesof a humour; he comes every morning to empty his lungs in Paul's here; andoffers up some five or six hecatombs of faces and sighs, and away again.Here he comes; nay, walk, walk, be not seen to note him, and we shall haveexcellent sport.ENTER SHIFT; AND WALKS BY, USING ACTION TO HIS RAPIER.PUNT. 'Slid, he vented a sigh e'en now, I thought he would have blown upthe church.CAR. O, you shall have him give a number of those false fires ere he depart.FAST. See, now he is expostulating with his rapier: look, look!CAR. Did you ever in your days observe better passion over a hilt?PUNT. Except it were in the person of a cutlet's boy, or that the fellowwere nothing but vapour, I should think it impossible.CAR. See again, he claps his sword o' the head, as who should say, well,go to.FAST. O violence! I wonder the blade can contain itself, being so provoked.CAR. "With that the moody squire thumpt his breast,And rear'd his eyen to heaven for revenge."SOG. Troth, an you be good gentlemen, let's make them friends, and take upthe matter between his rapier and him.CAR. Nay, if you intend that, you must lay down the matter; for thisrapier, it seems, is in the nature of a hanger-on, and the good gentlemanwould happily be rid of him.FAST. By my faith, and 'tis to be suspected; I'll ask him.MACI. O, here's rich stuff! for life's sake, let us go:A man would wish himself a senseless pillar,Rather than view these monstrous prodigies:"Nil habet infelix paupertas durius in se,Quam quod ridiculos homines facit —"[EXIT WITH DELIRO.FAST. Signior.SHIFT. At your service.FAST. Will you sell your rapier?CAR. He is turn'd wild upon the question; he looks as he had seen a serjeant.SHIFT. Sell my rapier! now fate bless me!PUNT. Amen.SHIFT. You ask'd me if I would sell my rapier, sir?FAST. I did indeed.SHIFT. Now, lord have mercy upon me!PUNT. Amen, I say still.SHIFT. 'Slid, sir, what should you behold in my face, sir, that shouldmove you, as they say, sir, to ask me, sir, if I would sell my rapier?FAST. Nay, let me pray you sir, be not moved: I protest, I would ratherhave been silent, than any way offensive, had I known your nature.SHIFT. Sell my rapier? 'ods lid! — Nay, sir, for mine own part, as I ama man that has serv'd in causes, or so, so I am not apt to injure anygentleman in the degree of falling foul, but — sell my rapier! I willtell you, sir, I have served with this foolish rapier, where some of usdare not appear in haste; I name no man; but let that pass. Sell myrapier! — death to my lungs! This rapier, sir, has travell'd by my side,sir, the best part of France, and the Low Country: I have seen Flushing,Brill, and the Hague, with this rapier, sir, in my Lord of Leicester'stime; and by God's will, he that should offer to disrapier me now, I would— Look you, sir, you presume to be a gentleman of sort, and so likewiseyour friends here; if you have any disposition to travel for the sight ofservice, or so, one, two, or all of you, I can lend you letters to diversofficers and commanders in the Low Countries, that shall for my cause doyou all the good offices, that shall pertain or belong to gentleman of your—— [LOWERING HIS VOICE.] Please you to shew the bounty of your mind,sir, to impart some ten groats, or half a crown to our use, till ourability be of growth to return it, and we shall think oneself —— 'Sblood!sell my rapier!SOG. I pray you, what said he, signior? he's a proper man.FAST. Marry, he tells me, if I please to shew the bounty of my mind, toimpart some ten groats to his use, or so —PUNT. Break his head, and give it him.CAR. I thought he had been playing o' the Jew's trump, I.SHIFT. My rapier! no, sir; my rapier is my guard, my defence, my revenue,my honour; — if you cannot impart, be secret, I beseech you — and I willmaintain it, where there is a grain of dust, or a drop of water. [SIGHS.]Hard is the choice when the valiant must eat their arms, or clem. Sell myrapier! no, my dear, I will not be divorced from thee, yet; I have everfound thee true as steel, and — You cannot impart, sir? — Save you,gentlemen; — nevertheless, if you have a fancy to it, sir —FAST. Prithee away: Is signior Deliro departed?CAR. Have you seen a pimp outface his own wants better?SOG. I commend him that can dissemble them so well.PUNT. True, and having no better a cloak for it than he has neither.FAST. Od's precious, what mischievous luck is this! adieu, gentlemen.PUNT. Whither in such haste, monsieur Fastidious?FAST. After my merchant, signior Deliro, sir.[EXIT.CAR. O hinder him not, he may hap lose his title; a good flounder, i'faith.[ORANGE AND CLOVE CALL SHIFT ASIDE.CAR. How! signior Whiffe?ORANGE. What was the difference between that gallant that's gone and you, sir?SHIFT. No difference; he would have given me five pound for my rapier, andI refused it; that's all.CLOVE. O, was it no otherwise? we thought you had been upon some terms.SHIFT. No other than you saw, sir.CLOVE. Adieu, good master Apple-John.[EXIT WITH ORANGE.CAR. How! Whiffe, and Apple-John too? Heart, what will you say if thisbe the appendix or label to both you indentures?PUNT. It may be.CAR. Resolve us of it, Janus, thou that look'st every way; or thou,Hercules, that has travelled all countries.PUNT. Nay, Carlo, spend not time in invocations now, 'tis late.CAR. Signior, here's a gentleman desirous of your name, sir.SHIFT. Sir, my name is cavalier Shift: I am known sufficiently in thiswalk, sir.CAR. Shift! I heard your name varied even now, as I take it.SHIFT. True, sir, it pleases the world, as I am her excellent tobacconist,to give me the style of signior Whiffe; as I am a poor esquire about thetown here, they call me master Apple-John. Variety of good names doeswell, sir.CAR. Ay, and good parts, to make those good names; out of which I imagineyon bills to be yours.SHIFT. Sir, if I should deny the manuscripts, I were worthy to be banish'dthe middle aisle for ever.CAR. I take your word, sir: this gentleman has subscribed to them, and ismost desirous to become your pupil. Marry, you must use expedition.Signior Insulso Sogliardo, this is the professor.SOG. In good time, sir: nay, good sir, house your head; do you professthese sleights in tobacco?SHIFT. I do more than profess, sir, and, if you please to be apractitioner, I will undertake in one fortnight to bring you, that youshall take it plausibly in any ordinary, theatre, or the Tilt-yard, if needbe, in the most popular assembly that is.PUNT. But you cannot bring him to the whiffe so soon?SHIFT. Yes, as soon, sir; he shall receive the first, second, and thirdwhiffe, if it please him, and, upon the receipt, take his horse, drink histhree cups of canary, and expose one at Hounslow, a second at Stains, and athird at Bagshot.CAR. Baw-waw!SOG. You will not serve me, sir, will you? I'll give you more thancountenance.SHIFT. Pardon me, sir, I do scorn to serve any man.CAR. Who! he serve? 'sblood, he keeps high men, and low men, he! he hasa fair living at Fullam.SHIFT. But in the nature of a fellow, I'll be your follower, if you please.SOG. Sir, you shall stay, and dine with me, and if we can agree, we'll notpart in haste: I am very bountiful to men of quality. Where shall we go,signior?PUNT. Your Mitre is your best house.SHIFT. I can make this dog take as many whiffes as I list, and he shallretain, or effume them, at my pleasure.PUNT. By your patience, follow me, fellows.SOG. Sir Puntarvolo!PUNT. Pardon me, my dog shall not eat in his company for a million.[EXIT WITH HIS SERVANTS.CAR. Nay, be not you amazed, signior Whiffe, whatever that stiff-neckedgentleman says.SOG. No, for you do not know the humour of the dog, as we do: Where shallwe dine, Carlo? I would fain go to one of these ordinaries, now I am agentleman.CAR. So you may; were you never at any yet?SOG. No, faith; but they say there resorts your most choice gallants.CAR. True, and the fashion is, when any stranger comes in amongst 'em,they all stand up and stare at him, as he were some unknown beast, broughtout of Africk; but that will be helped with a good adventurous face. Youmust be impudent enough, sit down, and use no respect: when anything'spropounded above your capacity smile at it, make two or three faces, and'tis excellent; they'll think you have travell'd; though you argue, a wholeday, in silence thus, and discourse in nothing but laughter, 'twill pass.Only, now and then, give fire, discharge a good full oath, and offer agreat wager; 'twill be admirable.SOG. I warrant you, I am resolute; come, good signior, there's a poorFrench crown for your ordinary.SHIFT. It comes well, for I had not so much as the least portcullis ofcoin before.MIT. I travail with another objection, signior, which I fear will beenforced against the author, ere I can be deliver'd of it.COR. What's that sir?MIT. That the argument of his comedy might have been of some other nature,as of a duke to be in love with a countess, and that countess to be in lovewith the duke's son, and the son to love the lady's waiting maid; some suchcross wooing, with a clown to their servingman, better than to be thusnear, and familiarly allied to the time.COR. You say well, but I would fain hear one of these autumn-judgmentsdefine once, "Quid sit comoedia?" if he cannot, let him content himselfwith Cicero's definition, till he have strength to propose to himself abetter, who would have a comedy to be 'imitatio vitae, speculumconsuetudinis, imago veritatis'; a thing throughout pleasant andridiculous, and accommodated to the correction of manners: if the makerhave fail'd in any particle of this, they may worthily tax him; but if not,why — be you, that are for them, silent, as I will be for him; and giveway to the actors.
SCENE II. — THE COUNTRY.ENTER SORDIDO, WITH A HALTER ABOUT HIS NECK.SORD. Nay, God's precious, if the weather and season be so respectless,that beggars shall live as well as their betters; and that my hunger andthirst for riches shall not make them hunger and thirst with poverty; thatmy sleep shall be broken, and their hearts not broken; that my coffersshall be full, and yet care; their's empty, and yet merry; — 'tis timethat a cross should bear flesh and blood, since flesh and blood cannot bearthis cross.MIT. What, will he hang himself?COR. Faith, ay; it seems his prognostication has not kept touch with him,and that makes him despair.MIT. Beshrew me, he will be 'out of his humour' then indeed.SORD. Tut, these star-monger knaves, who would trust them? One says darkand rainy, when 'tis as clear as chrystal; another says, tempestuous blastsand storms, and 'twas as calm as a milk-bowl; here be sweet rascals for aman to credit his whole fortunes with! You sky-staring coxcombs you, youfat-brains, out upon you; you are good for nothing but to sweat night-caps,and make rug-gowns dear! you learned men, and have not a legion of devils'a votre service! a votre service!' by heaven, I think I shall die abetter scholar than they: but soft —ENTER A HIND, WITH A LETTER.How now, sirrah?HIND. Here's a letter come from your son, sir.SORD. From my son, sir! what would my son, sir? some good news, no doubt.[READS."Sweet and dear father, desiring you first to send me your blessing, whichis more worth to me than gold or silver, I desire you likewise to beadvertised, that this Shrove-tide, contrary to custom, we use always tohave revels; which is indeed dancing, and makes an excellent shew in truth;especially if we gentlemen be well attired, which our seniors note, andthink the better of our fathers, the better we are maintained, and thatthey shall know if they come up, and have anything to do in the law;therefore, good father, these are, for your own sake as well as mine, tore-desire you, that you let me not want that which is fit for the settingup of our name, in the honourable volume of gentility, that I may say toour calumniators, with Tully, 'Ego sum ortus domus meae, tu occasus tuae.'And thus, not doubting of your fatherly benevolence, I humbly ask yourblessing, and pray God to bless you.Yours, if his own," [FUNGOSO.]How's this! "Yours, if his own!" Is he not my son, except he be his ownson? belike this is some new kind of subscription the gallants use. Well!wherefore dost thou stay, knave? away; go.[EXIT HIND.]Here's a letter, indeed! revels? and benevolence? is this a weather tosend benevolence? or is this a season to revel in? 'Slid, the devil andall takes part to vex me, I think! this letter would never have come nowelse, now, now, when the sun shines, and the air thus clear. Soul! Ifthis hold, se shall shortly have an excellent crop of corn spring out ofthe high ways: the streets and houses of the town will be hid with therankness of the fruits, that grow there in spite of good husbandry. Go to,I'll prevent the sight of it, come as quickly as it can, I will prevent thesight of it. I have this remedy, heaven.[CLAMBERS UP, AND SUSPENDS THE HALTER TO A TREE.]Stay; I'll try the pain thus a little. O, nothing, nothing. Well now!shall my son gain a benevolence by my death? or anybody be the better formy gold, or so forth? no; alive I kept it from them, and dead, my ghostshall walk about it, and preserve it. My son and daughter shall starve erethey touch it; I have hid it as deep as hell from the sight of heaven, andto it I go now.[FLINGS HIMSELF OFF.ENTER FIVE OR SIX RUSTICS, ONE AFTER ANOTHER.1 RUST. Ah me, what pitiful sight is this! help, help, help!2 RUST. How now! what's the matter?1 RUST. O, here's a man has hang'd himself, help to get him again.2 RUST. Hang'd himself! 'Slid, carry him afore a justice, 'tischance-medley, o' my word.3 RUST. How now, what's here to do?4 RUST. How comes this?2 RUST. One has executed himself, contrary to order of law, and by myconsent he shall answer it.[THEY CUT HIM DOWN.5 RUST. Would he were in case to answer it!1 RUST. Stand by, he recovers, give him breath.SORD. Oh!5 RUST. Mass, 'twas well you went the footway, neighbour.1 RUST. Ay, an I had not cut the halter —SORD. How! cut the halter! ah me, I am undone, I am undone!2 RUST. Marry, if you had not been undone, you had been hang'd. I cantell you.SORD. You thread-bare, horse-bread-eating rascals, if you would needs havebeen meddling, could you not have untied it, but you must cut it; and inthe midst too! ah me!1 RUST. Out on me, 'tis the caterpillar Sordido! how curst are the poor,that the viper was blest with this good fortune!2 RUST. Nay, how accurst art thou, that art cause to the curse of the poor?3 RUST. Ay, and to save so wretched a caitiff?4 RUST. Curst be thy fingers that loos'd him!2 RUST. Some desperate fury possess thee, that thou may'st hang thyself too!5 RUST. Never may'st thou be saved, that saved so damn'd a monster!SORD. What curses breathe these men! how have my deedsMade my looks differ from another man's,That they should thus detest and loath my life!Out on my wretched humour! it is thatMakes me thus monstrous in true humane eyes.Pardon me, gentle friends, I'll make fair 'mendsFor my foul errors past, and twenty-foldRestore to all men, what with wrong I robb'd them:My barns and garners shall stand open stillTo all the poor that come, and my best grainBe made alms-bread, to feed half-famish'd mouths.Though hitherto amongst you I have lived,Like an unsavoury muck-hill to myself,Yet now my gather'd heaps being spread abroad,Shall turn to better and more fruitful uses.Bless then this man, curse him no more for the savingMy life and soul together. O how deeplyThe bitter curses of the poor do pierce!I am by wonder changed; come in with meAnd witness my repentance: now I prove,No life is blest, that is not graced with love.[EXIT.2 RUST. O miracle! see when a man has grace!3 RUST. Had it not been pity so good a man should have been cast away?2 RUST. Well, I'll get our clerk put his conversion in the 'Acts andMonuments'.4 RUST. Do, for I warrant him he's a martyr.2 RUST. O God, how he wept, if you mark'd it! did you see how the tearstrill'd?5 RUST. Yes, believe me, like master vicar's bowls upon the green, for allthe world.3 RUST. O neighbour, God's blessing o' your heart, neighbour, 'twas a goodgrateful deed.[EXEUNT.COR. How now, Mitis! what's that you consider so seriously?MIT. Troth, that which doth essentially please me, the warping conditionof this green and soggy multitude; but in good faith, signior, your authorhath largely outstript my expectation in this scene, I will liberallyconfess it. For when I saw Sordido so desperately intended, I thought Ihad had a hand of him, then.COR. What! you supposed he should have hung himself indeed?MIT. I did, and had framed my objection to it ready, which may yet bevery fitly urged, and with some necessity; for though his purposed violencelost the effect, and extended not to death, yet the intent and horror ofthe object was more than the nature of a comedy will in any sort admit.COR. Ay! what think you of Plautus, in his comedy called 'Cistellaria'?there, where he brings in Alcesimarchus with a drum sword ready to killhimself, and as he is e'en fixing his breast upon it, to be restrained fromhis resolved outrage, by Silenium and the bawd? Is not his authority ofpower to give our scene approbation?MIT. Sir, I have this only evasion left me, to say, I think it be soindeed; your memory is happier than mine: but I wonder, what engine hewill use to bring the rest out of their humours!COR. That will appear anon, never pre-occupy your imagination withal. Letyour mind keep company with the scene still, which now removes itself fromthe country to the court. Here comes Macilente, and signior Brisk freshlysuited; lose not yourself, for now the epitasis, or busy part of oursubject, is an act.
SCENE III. — AN APARTMENT AT THE COURTENTER MACILENTE, FASTIDIOUS, BOTH IN A NEW SUIT, AND CINEDO, WITH TOBACCO.FAST. Well, now signior Macilente, you are not only welcome to the court,but also to my mistress's withdrawing chamber — Boy, get me some tobacco.I'll but go in, and shew I am here, and come to you presently, sir.[EXIT.MACI. What's that he said? by heaven, I mark'd him not:My thoughts and I were of another world.I was admiring mine own outside here,To think what privilege and palm it bearsHere, in the court! be a man ne'er so vile,In wit, in judgment, manners, or what else;If he can purchase but a silken cover,He shall not only pass, but pass regarded:Whereas, let him be poor, and meanly clad,Though ne'er so richly parted, you shall haveA fellow that knows nothing but his beef,Or how to rince his clammy guts in beer,Will take him by the shoulders, or the throat,And kick him down the stairs. Such is the stateOf virtue in bad clothes! — ha, ha, ha, ha!That raiment should be in such high request!How long should I be, ere I should put offTo the lord chancellor's tomb, or the shrives' poste?By heav'n, I think, a thousand, thousand year.His gravity, his wisdom, and his faithTo my dread sovereign, graces that survive him,These I could well endure to reverence,But not his tomb; no more than I'd commendThe chapel organ for the gilt without,Or this base-viol, for the varnish'd face.RE-ENTER FASTIDIOUS.FAST. I fear I have made you stay somewhat long, sir; but is my tobaccoready, boy?CIN. Ay, sir.FAST. Give me; my mistress is upon coming, you shall see her presently,sir. [PUFFS.] You'll say you never accosted a more piercing wit. — Thistobacco is not dried, boy, or else the pipe is defective. — Oh, your witsof Italy are nothing comparable to her: her brain's a very quiver ofjests, and she does dart them abroad with that sweet, loose, and judicialaim, that you would — here she comes, sir.[SAVIOLINA LOOKS IN, AND DRAWS BACK AGAIN.MACI. 'Twas time, his invention had been bogged else.SAV. [WITHIN.] Give me my fan there.MACI. How now, monsieur Brisk?FAST. A kind of affectionate reverence strikes me with a cold shivering,methinks.MACI. I like such tempers well, as stand before their mistresses with fearand trembling; and before their Maker, like impudent mountains!FAST. By this hand, I'd spend twenty pound my vaulting horse stood herenow, she might see do but one trick.MACI. Why, does she love activity?CIN. Or, if you had but your long stockings on, to be dancing a galliardas she comes by.FAST. Ay, either. O, these stirring humours make ladies mad with desire;she comes. My good genius embolden me: boy, the pipe quickly.ENTER SAVIOLINA.MACI. What! will he give her music?FAST. A second good morrow to my fair mistress.SAV. Fair servant, I'll thank you a day hence, when the date of yoursalutation comes forth.FAST. How like you that answer? is't not admirable?MACI. I were a simple courtier, if I could not admire trifles, sir.FAST. [TALKS AND TAKES TOBACCO BETWEEN THE BREAKS.] Troth, sweet lady, Ishall [PUFFS] — be prepared to give you thanks for those thanks, and —study more officious, and obsequious regards — to your fair beauties. —Mend the pipe, boy.MACI. I never knew tobacco taken as a parenthesis before.FAST. 'Fore God, sweet lady, believe it, I do honour the meanest rush inthis chamber for your love.SAV. Ay, you need not tell me that, sir; I do think you do prize a rushbefore my love.MACI. Is this the wonder of nations!FAST. O, by this air, pardon me, I said 'for' your love, by this light:but it is the accustomed sharpness of your ingenuity, sweet mistress, to[TAKES DOWNTHE VIOL, AND PLAYS] — mass, your viol's new strung, methinks.MACI. Ingenuity! I see his ignorance will not suffer him to slander her,which he had done notably, if he had said wit for ingenuity, as he meant it.FAST. By the soul of music, lady — HUM, HUM.SAV. Would we might hear it once.FAST. I do more adore and admire your — HUM, HUM — predominantperfections, than — HUM, HUM — ever I shall have power and faculty toexpress — HUM.SAV. Upon the viol de gambo, you mean?FAST. It's miserably out of tune, by this hand.SAV. Nay, rather by the fingers.MACI. It makes good harmony with her wit.FAST. Sweet lady, tune it. [SAVIOLINA TUNES THE VIOL.] — Boy, some tobacco.MACI. Tobacco again! he does court his mistress with very exceeding goodchanges.FAST. Signior Macilente, you take none, sir?MACI. No, unless I had a mistress, signior, it were a great indecorum forme to take tobacco.FAST. How like you her wit?[TALKS AND TAKES TOBACCO BETWEEN AGAIN.MACI. Her ingenuity is excellent, sir.FAST. You see the subject of her sweet fingers there — Oh, she tickles itso, that — She makes it laugh most divinely; — I'll tell you a good jestnow, and yourself shall say it's a good one: I have wished myself to bethat instrument, I think, a thousand times, and not so few, by heaven! —MACI. Not unlike, sir; but how? to be cased up and hung by on the wall?FAST. O, no, sir, to be in use, I assure you; as your judicious eyes maytestify. —SAV. Here, servant, if you will play, come.FAST. Instantly, sweet lady. — In good faith, here's most divine tobacco!SAV. Nay, I cannot stay to dance after your pipe.FAST. Good! Nay, dear lady, stay; by this sweet smoke, I think your witbe all fire. —MACI. And he's the salamander belongs to it.SAV. Is your tobacco perfumed, servant, that you swear by the sweet smoke?FAST. Still more excellent! Before heaven, and these bright lights, Ithink — you are made of ingenuity, I —MACI. True, as your discourse is. O abominable!FAST. Will your ladyship take any?SAV. O peace, I pray you; I love not the breath of a woodcock's head.FAST. Meaning my head, lady?SAV. Not altogether so, sir; but, as it were fatal to their follies thatthink to grace themselves with taking tobacco, when they want betterentertainment, you see your pipe bears the true form of a woodcock's head.FAST. O admirable simile!AV. 'Tis best leaving of you in admiration, sir.[EXIT.MACI. Are these the admired lady-wits, that having so good a plain song,can run no better division upon it? All her jests are of the stamp Marchwas fifteen years ago. Is this the comet, monsieur Fastidious, that yourgallants wonder at so?FAST. Heart of a gentleman, to neglect me afore the presence thus! Sweetsir, I beseech you be silent in my disgrace. By the muses, I was never inso vile a humour in my life, and her wit was at the flood too! Report itnot for a million, good sir: let me be so far endeared to your love.[EXEUNT.MIT. What follows next, signior Cordatus? this gallant's humour is almostspent; methinks it ebbs apace, with this contrary breath of his mistress.COR. O, but it will flow again for all this, till there come a generaldrought of humour among our actors, and then I fear not but his will fallas low as any. See who presents himself here!MIT. What, in the old case?COR. Ay, faith, which makes it the more pitiful; you understand where thescene is?
SCENE I. — A ROOM IN DELIRO'S HOUSE.ENTER FUNGOSO, FALLACE FOLLOWING HIM.FAL. Why are you so melancholy, brother?FUNG. I am not melancholy, I thank you, sister.FAL. Why are you not merry then? there are but two of us in all theworld, and if we should not be comforts one to another, God help us!FUNG. Faith, I cannot tell, sister; but if a man had any true melancholyin him, it would make him melancholy to see his yeomanly father cut hisneighbours' throats, to make his son a gentleman; and yet, when he has cutthem, he will see his son's throat cut too, ere he make him a truegentleman indeed, before death cut his own throat. I must be the firsthead of our house, and yet he will not give me the head till I be made so.Is any man termed a gentleman, that is not always in the fashion? I wouldknow but that.FAL. If you be melancholy for that, brother, I think I have as much causeto be melancholy as any one: for I'll be sworn, I live as little in thefashion as any woman in London. By the faith of a gentlewoman, beast thatI am to say it! I have not one friend in the world besides my husband.When saw you master Fastidious Brisk, brother?FUNG. But a while since, sister, I think: I know not well in truth. Bythis hand I could fight with all my heart, methinks.FAL. Nay, good brother, be not resolute.FUNG. I sent him a letter, and he writes me no answer neither.FAL. Oh, sweet Fastidious Brisk! O fine courtier! thou are he makest mesigh, and say, how blessed is that woman that hath a courtier to herhusband, and how miserable a dame she is, that hath neither husband, norfriend in the court! O sweet Fastidious! O fine courtier! How comely hebows him in his court'sy! how full he hits a woman between the lips whenhe kisses! how upright he sits at the table! how daintily he carves! howsweetly he talks, and tells news of this lord and of that lady! howcleanly he wipes his spoon at every spoonful of any whitemeat he eats! andwhat a neat case of pick-tooths he carries about him still! O sweetFastidious! O fine courtier!ENTER DELIRO AT A DISTANCE, WITH MUSICIANS.DELI. See, yonder she is, gentlemen. Now, as ever you'll bear the name ofmusicians, touch your instruments sweetly; she has a delicate ear, I tellyou: play not a false note, I beseech you.MUSI. Fear not, signior Deliro.DELI. O, begin, begin, some sprightly thing: lord, how my imaginationlabours with the success of it! [THEY STRIKE UP A LIVELY TUNE.] Wellsaid, good i'faith! Heaven grant it please her. I'll not be seen, forthen she'll be sure to dislike it.FAL. Hey — da! this is excellent! I'll lay my life this is my husband'sdotage. I thought so; nay, never play bo-peep with me; I know you donothing but study how to anger me, sir.DELI. [COMING FORWARD.] Anger thee, sweet wife! why, didst thou not sendfor musicians at supper last night thyself?FAL. To supper, sir! now, come up to supper, I beseech you: as thoughthere were no difference between supper-time, when folks should be merry,and this time when they should be melancholy. I would never take upon meto take a wife, if I had no more judgment to please her.DELI. Be pleased, sweet wife, and they shall have done; and would to fatemy life were done, if I can never please thee![EXEUNT MUSICIANS.ENTER MACILENTE.MACI. Save you lady; where is master Deliro?DELI. Here, master Macilente: you are welcome from court, sir; no doubtyou have been graced exceedingly of master Brisk's mistress, and the restof the ladies for his sake.MACI. Alas, the poor fantastic! he's scarce knownTo any lady there; and those that know him,Know him the simplest man of all they know:Deride, and play upon his amorous humours,Though he but apishly doth imitateThe gallant'st courtiers, kissing ladies' pumps,Holding the cloth for them, praising their wits,And servilely observing every oneMay do them pleasure: fearful to be seenWith any man, though he be ne'er so worthy,That's not in grace with some that are the greatest.Thus courtiers do, and these he counterfeits,But sets no such a sightly carriageUpon their vanities, as they themselves;And therefore they despise him: for indeedHe's like the zany to a tumbler,That tries tricks after him, to make men laugh.FAL. Here's an unthankful spiteful wretch! the good gentleman vouchsafedto make him his companion, because my husband put him into a few rags, andnow see how the unrude rascal backbites him![ASIDE.DELI. Is he no more graced amongst them then, say you?MACI. Faith, like a pawn at chess: fills up a room, that's all.FAL. O monster of men! can the earth bear such an envious caitiff?[ASIDE.DELI. Well, I repent me I ever credited him so much: but now I see whathe is, and that his masking vizor is off, I'll forbear him no longer. Allhis lands are mortgaged to me, and forfeited; besides, I have bonds of hisin my hand, for the receipt of now fifty pounds now a hundred, now twohundred; still, as he has had a fan but wagged at him, he would be in a newsuit. Well, I'll salute him by a serjeant, the next time I see himi'faith, I'll suit him.MACI. Why, you may soon see him sir, for he is to meet signior Puntarvoloat a notary's by the Exchange, presently; where he meant to take up, uponreturn.FAL. Now, out upon thee, Judas! canst thou not be content to backbite thyfriend, but thou must betray him! Wilt thou seek the undoing of any man?and of such a man too? and will you, sir, get your living by the counselof traitors?DELI. Dear wife, have patience.FAL. The house will fall, the ground will open and swallow us: I'll notbide here for all the gold and silver in heaven.[EXIT WITH FUNGOSO.DELI. O, good Macilente, let's follow and appease her, or the peace of mylife is at an end.[EXIT.MACI. Now pease, and not peace, feed that life, whose head hangs soheavily over a woman's manger![EXIT.