620 That I were jealous; nay, as sure as death, An apt pretext to banish them my house. (to do it. Enter Master MATTHEW and Captain BOBADIL. Capt. B. Speak to him! Away! by the foot of Pharaon you shall not; you shall not do him that grace. Kite. What's the matter, sirs? Capt. B. The time of day to you, gentleman o'the house. Is Mr. Wellbred stirring? Down. How then? what should he do? you. Down. Ha! scavenger! Well, go to, I say little; but, by this good day, (God forgive me I should swear) if I put it up so, say I am the rankest coward ever lived. 'Sdains! an' I swallow this, I'll ne'er draw my sword in the sight of Fleet-street again, while I live; I'll sit in a barn with Madge Howlet, and catch mice first. Scavenger! Kite. Oh! do not fret yourselfthus, never think on't. Down. These are my brother's comforts, these! these are his comrades, his walking mates! he's a gallant, a cavaliero, too; right hangman-cut! Let me not live, an' I could not find in my heart to swinge the whole gang of 'em, one after another, and begin with him first. I am grieved it should be said he is my brother, and take these courses. Well, as he brews, so he shall drink, for George again. Yet he shall hear on't, and that tightly, too, an' I live, i'faith! Kite. But, brother, let your reprehension, then, Run in an easy current; not o'er high Carried with rashness, or devouring choler; But rather use the soft persuading way, More winning than enforcing the consent. Down. Ay, ay, let me alone for that, I warrant you. Bell rings.] Kite. How now? Oh! the bell rings to breakfast. Brother, I pray you, go in, and bear my wife Company till I come: I'll but give order For some despatch of business to my servant. Down. I will. Scavenger, scavenger! Kite. Well, though my troubled spirit's somewhat cas'd, It's not repos'd in that security As I could wish; but I must be content, to be plain, if I but thought the time Dame K. Oh, the lord! Kite. How now? what? Dame K. Alas! how it burns! Muss keep you warm; good truth, it is this new disease, there's a number are troubled withal. For love's sake, sweetheart, come in out of the air. Kite. How simple and how subtle are her answers! A new disease, and many troubled with it! Why, true! she heard me, all the world to nothing. [Aride. Dame K. I pray thee, good sweetheart, come in ; the air will do you harm, in troth. Kite. I'll come to you presently; 'twill away, I hope. Dame K. Pray heav'n it do! [Erit. Kite. A new disease! I know not, new or old, But it may well be call'd poor mortals' plague; For, like a pestilence, it doth infect The houses of the brain. Well, I will once more strive, In spite of this black cloud, myself to be, SCENE II-Moorfields. Enter BRAINWORM, disguised as a soldier. Brain. 'Slid! I cannot choose but laugh to see myself translated thus. Now must I create an intolerable sort of lies, or my present profession loses the grace; and yet the lie to a man of my coat, is as ominous a fruit as the fico. Oh! sir, it holds for good polity ever to have that outwardly in vilest estimation that inwardly is most dear to us. So much for my borrowed shape. Well, the truth is, my old master intends to follow my young, dry-foot, over Moorfields to London this morning: now I, knowing of this hunting-match, or rather conspiracy, and to insinuate with my young master, (for so must we that are blue waiters, and men of hope and service do,) have got me afore in this disguise, determining here to lie in ambuscade, and intercept him in the midway. If I can but get his cloak, his purse, his hat, nay, any thing to cut him off, that is, to star his journey" Veni, vidi, vici," I may say with Captain Cæsar; I am made for ever, i'faith! Well, now must I practise to get the true garb of one of those lance-knights, my arm here, and my-young master, and his cousin, Mr. Stephen, as I am a true counterfeit man of war, and no soldier! [Retirea] Enter Young KNO'WELL and Master STEPEN, Young K. So, sir, and how, then, coz ? Step. 'Sfoot! I have lost my purse, I think Young K. How? lost your purse? Where? when had you it? Step. I cannot tell: stay. Step. Why, but I will buy it now, because you say so; and there's another shilling, fellow; I scorn to be outbidden. What, shall I walk with a Brain. 'Slid! I am afraid they will know me:cudgel, like a higginbottom, and may have a rapier would I could get by them! for money? Aside. Young K. What! ha' you it? Step. Oh! it's here. No, an' it had been lost, I had not cared, but for a jet ring mistress Mary sent me. Young K. A jet ring! Oh! the poesy, the poesy! Step. Fine, i'faith! "Though fancy sleep, my love is deep;" meaning that though did not faney her, yet she loved me dearly. Young K. Most excellent! Step. And then I sent her another, and my poesy was, "The deeper the sweeter, I'll be judged by St. Peter." Young K. How by St. Peter? I do not conceive that. Step. Marry, St. Peter, to make up the metre. Young K. Well, there the saint was your good patron; he helped you at your need: thank him, thank him. Brain. I cannot take leave of 'em so; I will venture, come what will. [Aside. Comes forward.] Gentlemen, please you change a few crowns for a very excellent good blade, here. I am a poor gentleman, a soldier, that in the better state of my fortunes, scorned so mean a refuge, but now it is the humour of necessity to have it so. You seem to be, gentlemen, well affected to martial men, else I should rather die with silence than live with shame; however, vouchsafe to remember, it is my want speaks, not myself. This condition agrees not with my spirit. Young K. Where hast thou served? Brain. May it please you, sir, in all the late wars of Bohemia, Hungaria, Dalmatia, Poland; where. not, sir? I have been a poor servitor by sea and land, any time this fourteen years, and followed the fortunes of the best commanders in Christendom. I was twice shot at the taking of Aleppo; once at the relief of Vienna. I have been at Marseilles, Naples, and the Adriatic gulf; a gentleman-slave in the galleys thrice, where I was most dangerously shot in the head, through both thighs, and yet, being thus maimed, I am void of maintenance; nothing left me but my scars, the noted marks of my resolution. Step. How will you sell this rapier, friend? Brain. Generous sir, I refer it to your own judg-I ment; you are a gentleman, give me what you please. Step. True, I am a gentleman, I know that, friend; but what though, I pray you say, what would you ask? Brain. I assure you the blade may become the side or thigh of the best prince in Europe. Young K. Ay, with a velvet scabbard. Step. Nay, and it be mine, it shall have a velvet scabbard, coz, that's flat: I'd not wear it as 'tis, an' you would give me an angel. Brain. At your worship's pleasure, sir; nay, 'tis a most pure Toledo. Step. I had rather it were a Spaniard. But teli me what shall I give you for it? An' it had a silver hilt Young K. Come, come; you shall not buy it. Hold! there's a shilling, fellow:-take thy rapier. Young K. You may buy one in the city. Step. Tut! I'll buy this i'the field, so I will; I have a mind to't, because 'tis a field rapier. Tell me your lowest price. Young K. You shall not buy it, I say. Step. By this money but I will, though I give more than 'tis worth. Young K. Come away; you are a fool. [Ext Step. Friend, I am a fool, that's granted; but I'll have it for that word's sake. Follow me for your money. He says I am a fool. [Exit. Brain. The gentleman seems to know you, sir. I follow. [Erit. Enter KNO' WELL. Kno. I cannot lose the thought yet of this letter Brain. My master! Nay, faith! have at you; 1 am fleshed now, I have sped so well; though I must attack you in a different way. [Aside.] Worshipful sir, I beseech you respect the state of a poor soldier! I am ashamed of this base course of life, (God's my comfort,) but extremity provokes me to't-what remedy? Kno. I have not for you now. Brain. By the faith I bear unto truth, gentlemen, it is no ordinary custom in me, but only to preserve manhood. I protest to you, a man I have been, a man I may be, by your sweet bounty. Kno. Pr'ythee, good friend, be satisfied. Brain. Good sir, by that hand, you may do the part of a kind gentleman, in lending a poor soldier the price of two cans of beer, a matter of small value; the king of heaven shall pay you, and I shall rest thankful: sweet worship- Kno. Nay, an' you be so importunate Brain. Oh! tender sir, need will have its course: was not made to this vile use. Well, the edge of the enemy could not have abated me so much. [Weeps.] It's hard, when a man has served in his prince's cause, and be thus-Honourable worship, let me derive a small piece of silver from you; it shall not be given in the course of time. By this good ground, I was fain to pawn my rapier last night for a poor supper; I had sucked the hilts long before, I am a pagan else, sweet honour. Kno. Believe me, I am taken with some wonder, Say that a man should entertain thee now, Brain. Nothing, sir; but wish my fortunes were as happy, as my service should be honest. E JML for STFIX Yol Ka 'well. ly my soul, welcome! How det Kang K. Oh! you are a fine gallant; you seat me a rare letter. Well Way, was't not rare? Young 5. Yes, I'll be sworn, I was never guilty of reading the like. But I marvel what camel it was that had the carriage of it; for doubtless be was no rinary beast that brought it. Well Way? Yang K. Why, savest thou? Why dst tha think that any reasonable creature, especially in the morning, the ser time of the day, too, could have mistaken my father for me? We 'Sui! you jest, I h pe. Yang K. Indeed, the best use we can turn it to, Yang K. Nay, I know not what he said; but I K. Well, follow me; I'll prove thee, if thy¦ deeds will carry a proportion to thy words. Eni. Brain. Yes, sir, straight; I'll but garter my hose. -Oh. that my belly were hooped now, for I am ready to burst with langhing! Never was bottle or bagpipe fuller. 'S! was there ever scen a fix in years to betray himself thus? Now I shall be pesessed of all his counsels; and by that conduct my Well, he is resolved to prove my young master. honesty: faith! and I am resolved to prove his påtience. Oh! I shall abuse him intolerably! It's no matter; let the world think me a bad countericit, if I cannot give him the slip at an instant. WEY, Well. Tut! that thought is like the moon in ber this is better than to have staid his journey. Well, I'll follow him. Oh! how I long to be employed! With change of voice, these scars, and many an ath, I'll follow son and sire, and serve 'em both. [E.., Mat. Yes, faith! sir, we were at your lodging to seek you, too. Well. Oh! I came not there to-night. Capt. B. Your brother delivered us as much. Well, Who? My brother Downright? Capt. B. He. Mr. Wellbred, I know not in what kind you hold me, but let me say to you this: as sure as honour, I esteem it so much out of the sunshine of reputation to throw the least beam of regard upon such a— Weil. Sir, I must hear no ill words of my brother. Capt. B. I protest to you, as I have a thing to be saved about me, I never saw any gentleman-like part Well. Good Captain, [faces about] to some other discourse. Capt. B. With your leave, sir, an' there were no more men living upon the face of the earth, I should not fancy him, by St. George. Mat. Troth! nor I; he is of a rustical cut, I know not how; he doth not carry himself like a gentleman of fashion. Well. Oh! Mr. Matthew, that's a grace peculiar but to few. Young K. Marry, dat thou art some strange, dissolute, young fellow, and I na a grain or two better for keeping thee company. last quarter, 'twill change shortly. But, sirrah, I pray thce, be acquainted with my two bang-lys here; thou wilt take exceeding pleasure in 'em, if thou hearest 'em once go: my winner.ments. I'll wind 'em up. But what strange piece of silence is this? The sign of the dumb man? Young K. On! sir, a kinsman of mine, one that may make your music the fuller, an' be please; te has his humour, sir. Well. Oh! what is't, what is't? Young K. Nay, I'll neither do your julzment, nor his folly that wrong, as to prepare year apprehensions. I'll leave him to the mercy o'your seanb, if you can take him so. Well. Well, Captain Bobadil, Mr. Matthew, I pray you, know this gentleman here: he is a friend of mine, and one that will deserve your affection. I know not your name, sir, but shill be glad of any occasion to render me more familiar to y [To Master STEPHEN. Step. My name is Mr. Stephen, sir; I am this gentleman's own cousin, sir: his father is mine uncle, sir. I am somewhat melancholy; but you shall command me, sir, in whatsoever is incident to a gentleman. Capt. B. I must tell you this, I am no general man; but for Mr. Wellbred's sake, (you may exbrace it at what height of favour you please.) I do communicate with you, and conceive you to be a gentleman of some parts. I love few words. Young K. And I fewer, sir. I have scarce enow to thank you. Mat. But are you, indeed, sir, so given to it? [To Master STEPHEN. lancholy. Step. Ay, truly, sir, I am mightily given to me Mat. Oh! 'tis your only fine humour, sir; your true melancholy breeds you perfect fine wit, sir. I am melancholy myself divers times, sir; and then I do no more but take a pen and paper presently, and overflow you half-a-score or a dozen of sonnets at a sitting. Step. Cousin, it is well; am I melancholy enough? Capt. B. Faith! sir, I was thinking of a most honourable piece of service was performed to-morrow, being St. Mark's day, shall be some ten years now. Young K. In what place, Captain? Capt. B. Why, at the beleag'ring of Strigonium, where, in less than two hours, seven hundred resolute gentlemen, as any were in Europe, lost their lives upon the breach. I'll tell you, gentlemen, it was the first, but the best leaguer that I ever beheld with these eyes, except the taking of what do you call it? last year, by the Genoese! but that (of all others) was the most fatal and dangerous exploit that ever I was ranged in, since I first bore arms before the face of the enemy, as I am a gentleman and a soldier. Step. So I had as lief as an angel, I could swear as well as that gentleman. [Aside. Young K. Then you were a servitor at both, it seems; at Strigonium, and What-do-you-call-it? Capt. B. Oh, lord! sir, by St. George! I was the first man that entered the breach: had I not effected it with resolution, I had been slain, if I had had a million of lives. Young K. 'Twere pity you had not ten; a cat's and your own, i'faith! But was it possible? Capt. B. I assure you, upon my reputation, 'tis true, and yourself shall confess. Young K. You must bring me to the rack first. Capt. B. Observe me judicially, sweet sir; they had planted me three demi-culverins, just in the mouth of the breach: now, sir, as we were to give on, their master-gunner (a man of no mean skill and mark, you must think) confronts me with his linstock, ready to give fire: I, spying his intendment, discharged my petrionel in his bosom, and with these single arms, my poor rapier, ran violently upon the Moors that guarded the ordnance, and put them all pell-mell to the sword. Well. To the sword! to the rapier, Captain. Young K. Oh! it was a good figure observed, sir. But did you all this, Captain, without hurting your blade? Capt. B. Without any impeach o'the earth. You shall perceive, sir. It is the most fortunate weapon that ever rid on poor gentleman's thigh. Shall I tell you, sir? You talk of Morglay, Excalibur, Durindina, or so-Tut! I lend no credit to that is fabled of 'em; I know the virtue of mine own, and, therefore, I dare the bolder maintain it. Step. I marvel whether it be a Toledo or no? [Bends the blade double. Step. Why do you pish, Captain? Capt. B. A Fleming, by heaven! I'll buy them for a guilder a-piece, an' I would have a thousand of them. Young K. How say you, cousin? I told you thus much. a Well. Where bought you it, Mr. Stephen? Step. Of a scurvy rogue soldier; he swore it was Toledo. Capt. B. A poor provant rapier, no better. Mat. Mass! I think it be, indeed, now I look on't better. Young K. Nay, the longer you look on't the worse. Put it up, put it up. Step. Well, I will put it up; but by—I ha' forgot the Captain's oath-I thought to ha' sworn by itAside.]-an' e'er I meet him Well. Oh! 'tis past help now, sir; you must ha' patience. Step. I could eat the very hilts for anger. Young K. A sign of good digestion; you have an ostrich stomach, cousin. Step. A stomach! I would I had him here, you should see an' I had a stomach. Well. It's better as it is. Come, gentlemen, shall we go? Young K. Oh! cousin, forbear, forbear! Step. Nay, I have done, cousia. Well. Why, you have done like a gentleman; he has confessed it; what would you more? Step. Yet, by his leave, he is a rascal, under his favour, do you see? Young K. Ay, by his leave he is, and under favour. Pretty piece of civility! Sirrah, how dost thou like him?" [Apart to WELI BRED. Well. Oh! it's a most precious fool! make much on him. I can compare him to nothing more happily than a drum; for every one may play upon him. [Apart. Young K. No, no; a child's whistle were far the [Apart. Brain. Sir, shall I entreat a word with you? To Young KNO'WELL. fitter. Young K. With me, sir? You have not another Toledo to sell, ha' you? Brain. You are conceited, sir. Kno’well, as I take it? Young K. You are i'the right. proceed in the catechism, do you? Your name is Mr. You mean not to Brain. No, sir, I am none of that coat. Young K. Of as bare coat, though. Well, say sir. Brain. Faith! sir, I am but a servant to the drum extraordinary; and, indeed, this smeky varnish being washed off, and three or four patches removed, I appear your worship's in reversion, after the decease of your good father-Brainworm, Young K. Brainworm! 'Slight! what breath of a conjurer hath blown thee hither in this shape? Brain. The breath o'your letter, sir, this morning: the same that blew you to the Windmill, and you father after you. Young K. My father! Kite. Has he the money ready, can you tell? You then must be kept up close, and well watch'd! Cash. Sir, Snare, your scrivener, will be there with the bonds. Kite. That's true. Fool on me! I had clean for gotten it. I must go. What's o'clock ? Cash. Exchange time, sir. [here, too, He knows not to deceive me. [Aside] Thomas! Kite. But he'll prate, too; there's no speech A Well, come what will, I'll tempt my fortune once; Thomas, you may deceive me, but I hope— Cash. Sir, if a servant's Duty, with faith, may be call'd love, you are Kite. I thank you heartily, Thomas; gi' me your hand. [Thomas, Than thou'rt aware of, Thomas. If thou shouldst Cash. How! I reveal it? Kite. Nay, I do not think thou wouldst; but if thou shouldst, 'Twere a great weakness. Cash. A great treachery. Give it no other name. Kite. Thou wilt not do't, then? Cash. Sir, if I do, mankind disclaim me ever. Some conceal'd purpose, and close meaning, sure; Cash. Not yet, sir, but I will, Kite. No, Thomas, I dare take thy word; Cash. By my soul's safety, then, sir, I protest Kite. It is too much; these ceremonies need not; Kite. I will think. Give me my cloak. And, Thomas, I pray you, search the books, 'gainst my return, For the receipts 'twixt me and Traps. Cash. I will, sir. |
