THO. 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.

BIA. I pray thee, good sweet-heart, come in; the air will do you harm, in troth.

THO. I'll come to you presently, it will away, I hope.

BIA. Pray God it do.

[EXIT.]

THO. 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: first it begins Solely to work upon the phantasy, Filling her seat with such pestiferous air, As soon corrupts the judgment, and from thence, Sends like contagion to the memory, Still each of other catching the infection, Which as a searching vapour spreads itself Confusedly through every sensive part, Till not a thought or motion in the mind Be free from the black poison of suspect. Ah, but what error is it to know this, And want the free election of the soul In such extremes! well, I will once more strive (Even in despite of hell) myself to be, And shake this fever off that thus shakes me.

[EXIT.]



ACT II.

SCENE I.

ENTER MUSCO, DISGUISED LIKE A SOLDIER.

MUS. 'Sblood, I cannot choose but laugh to see myself translated thus, from a poor creature to a creator; for now must I create an intolerable sort of lies, or else my profession loses his grace, and yet the lie to a man of my coat is as ominous as the Fico, oh, sir, it holds for good policy to have that outwardly in vilest estimation, that inwardly is most dear to us: So much for my borrowed shape. Well, the troth is, my master intends to follow his son dry-foot to Florence, this morning: now I, knowing of this conspiracy, and the rather to insinuate with my young master, (for so must we that are blue waiters, or men of service do, or else perhaps we may wear motley at the year's end, and who wears motley you know:) I have got me afore in this disguise, determining here to lie in ambuscado, and intercept him in the midway; if I can but get his cloak, his purse, his hat, nay, any thing so I can stay his journey, Rex Regum, I am made for ever, i'faith: well, now must I practise to get the true garb of one of these Lance-knights; my arm here, and my — God's so, young master and his cousin.

LOR. JU. So, sir, and how then?

[ENTER LOR. JU. AND STEP.]

STEP. God's foot, I have lost my purse, I think.

LOR. JU. How? lost your purse? where? when had you it?

STEP. I cannot tell, stay.

MUS. 'Slid, I am afraid they will know me, would I could get by them.

LOR. JU. What! have you it?

STEP. No, I think I was bewitched, I.

LOR. JU. Nay, do not weep, a pox on it, hang it, let it go.

STEP. Oh, it's here; nay, an it had been lost, I had not cared but for a jet ring Marina sent me.

LOR. JU. A jet ring! oh, the poesie, the poesie!

STEP. Fine, i'faith: "Though fancy sleep, my love is deep": meaning that though I did not fancy her, yet she loved me dearly.

LOR. JU. Most excellent.

STEP. And then I sent her another, and my poesie was: "The deeper the sweeter, I'll be judged by Saint Peter."

LOR. JU. How, by St. Peter? I do not conceive that.

STEP. Marry, St. Peter to make up the metre.

LOR JU. Well, you are beholding to that Saint, he help'd you at your need; thank him, thank him.

MUS. I will venture, come what will: Gentlemen, please you change a few crowns for a very excellent good blade here; I am a poor gentleman, a soldier, one that (in the better state of my fortunes) scorned so mean a refuge, but now it's 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: howe'er, vouchsafe to remember it is my want speaks, not myself: this condition agrees not with my spirit.

LOR. JU. Where hast thou served?

MUS. May it please you, Signior, in all the provinces of Bohemia, Hungaria, Dalmatia, Poland, where not? I have been a poor servitor by sea and land, any time this xiiij. years, and follow'd 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 America in the galleys thrice, where I was most dangerously shot in the head, through both the thighs, and yet, being thus maim'd, 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?

MUS. Faith, Signior, I refer it to your own judgment; you are a gentleman, give me what you please.

STEP. True, I am a gentleman, I know that; but what though, I pray you say, what would you ask?

MUS. I assure you the blade may become the side of the best prince in Europe.

LOR. JU. Ay, with a velvet scabbard.

STEP. Nay, an't be mine it shall have a velvet scabbard, that is flat, I'd not wear it as 'tis an you would give me an angel.

MUS. At your pleasure, Signior, nay, it's a most pure Toledo.

STEP. I had rather it were a Spaniard: but tell me, what shall I give you for it? an it had a silver hilt —

LOR. JU. Come, come, you shall not buy it; hold, there's a shilling, friend, take thy rapier.

STEP. Why, but I will buy it now, because you say so: what, shall I go without a rapier?

LOR. JU. You may buy one in the city.

STEP. Tut, I'll buy this, so I will; tell me your lowest price.

LOR. JU. You shall not, I say.

STEP. By God's lid, but I will, though I give more than 'tis worth.

LOR. JU. Come away, you are a fool.

STEP. Friend, I'll have it for that word: follow me.

MUS. At your service, Signior.

[EXEUNT.]

ACT II. SCENE II.

ENTER LORENZO SENIOR.

LOR. SE. My labouring spirit being late opprest With my son's folly, can embrace no rest Till it hath plotted by advice and skill, How to reduce him from affected will To reason's manage; which while I intend, My troubled soul begins to apprehend A farther secret, and to meditate Upon the difference of man's estate: Where is decipher'd to true judgment's eye A deep, conceal'd, and precious mystery. Yet can I not but worthily admire At nature's art: who (when she did inspire This heat of life) placed Reason (as a king) Here in the head, to have the marshalling Of our affections: and with sovereignty To sway the state of our weak empery. But as in divers commonwealths we see, The form of government to disagree: Even so in man, who searcheth soon shall find As much or more variety of mind. Some men's affections like a sullen wife, Is with her husband reason still at strife. Others (like proud arch-traitors that rebel Against their sovereign) practise to expel Their liege Lord Reason, and not shame to tread Upon his holy and anointed head. But as that land or nation best doth thrive, Which to smooth-fronted peace is most proclive, So doth that mind, whose fair affections ranged By reason's rules, stand constant and unchanged, Else, if the power of reason be not such, Why do we attribute to him so much? Or why are we obsequious to his law, If he want spirit our affects to awe? Oh no, I argue weakly, he is strong, Albeit my son have done him too much wrong.

[ENTER MUSCO.]

MUS. My master: nay, faith, have at you: I am flesh'd now I have sped so well: Gentleman, I beseech you respect the estate 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?

LOR. SE. I have not for you now.

MUS. By the faith I bear unto God, gentleman, it is no ordinary custom, but only to preserve manhood. I protest to you, a man I have been, a man I may be, by your sweet bounty.

LOR. SE. I pray thee, good friend, be satisfied.

MUS. Good Signior: by Jesu, 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 Signior —

LOR. SE. Nay, an you be so importunate —

MUS. O Lord, sir, need will have his course: I was not made to this vile use; well, the edge of the enemy could not have abated me so much: it's hard when a man hath served in his Prince's cause and be thus. Signior, 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 am a Pagan else: sweet Signior —

LOR. SE. Believe me, I am rapt with admiration, To think a man of thy exterior presence Should (in the constitution of the mind) Be so degenerate, infirm, and base. Art thou a man? and sham'st thou not to beg? To practise such a servile kind of life? Why, were thy education ne'er so mean, Having thy limbs: a thousand fairer courses Offer themselves to thy election. Nay, there the wars might still supply thy wants, Or service of some virtuous gentleman, Or honest labour; nay, what can I name, But would become thee better than to beg? But men of your condition feed on sloth, As doth the Scarab on the dung she breeds in, Not caring how the temper of your spirits Is eaten with the rust of idleness. Now, afore God, whate'er he be that should Relieve a person of thy quality, While you insist in this loose desperate course, I would esteem the sin not thine, but his.

MUS. Faith, Signior, I would gladly find some other course, if so.

LOR. SE. Ay, you'd gladly find it, but you will not seek it.

MUS. Alas, sir, where should a man seek? in the wars, there's no ascent by desert in these days, but — and for service, would it were as soon purchased as wish'd for, (God's my comfort) I know what I would say.

LOR. SE. What's thy name?

MUS. Please you: Portensio.

LOR. SE. Portensio? Say that a man should entertain thee now, Would thou be honest, humble, just, and true?

MUS. Signior: by the place and honour of a soldier —

LOR. SE. Nay, nay, I like not these affected oaths; Speak plainly, man: what thinkst thou of my words?

MUS. Nothing, Signior, but wish my fortunes were as happy as my service should be honest.

LOR. SE. Well, follow me, I'll prove thee, if thy deeds Will carry a proportion to thy words.

[EXIT LOR. SE.]

MUS. Yes, sir, straight, I'll but garter my hose; oh, that my belly were hoop'd now, for I am ready to burst with laughing. 'Slid, was there ever seen a fox in years to betray himself thus? now shall I be possest of all his determinations, and consequently my young master; well, he is resolved to prove my honesty: faith, and I am resolved to prove his patience: oh, I shall abuse him intolerably: this small piece of service will bring him clean out of love with the soldier for ever. It's no matter, let the world think me a bad counterfeit, if I cannot give him the slip at an instant; why, this is better than to have stayed his journey by half: well, I'll follow him. Oh, how I long to be employed.

[EXIT.]

ACT II. SCENE III.

ENTER PROSPERO, BOBADILLA, AND MATHEO.

MAT. Yes, faith, sir, we were at your lodging to seek you too.

PROS. Oh, I came not there to-night.

BOB. Your brother delivered us as much.

PROS. Who, Giuliano?

BOB. Giuliano. Signior Prospero, I know not in what kind you value me, but let me tell you this: as sure as God, I do hold it so much out of mine honour and reputation, if I should but cast the least regard upon such a dunghill of flesh; I protest to you (as I have a soul to be saved) I ne'er saw any gentlemanlike part in him: an there were no more men living upon the face of the earth, I should not fancy him, by Phoebus.

MAT. Troth, nor I, he is of a rustical cut, I know not how: he doth not carry himself like a gentleman.

PROS. Oh, Signior Matheo, that's a grace peculiar but to a few; "quos aequus amavit Jupiter."

MAT. I understand you, sir.

[ENTER LOR. JU. AND STEP.]

PROS. No question you do, sir: Lorenzo! now on my soul, welcome; how dost thou, sweet rascal? my Genius! 'Sblood, I shall love Apollo and the mad Thespian girls the better while I live for this; my dear villain, now I see there's some spirit in thee: Sirrah, these be they two I writ to thee of, nay, what a drowsy humour is this now? why dost thou not speak?

LOR. JU. Oh, you are a fine gallant, you sent me a rare letter.

PROS. Why, was't not rare?

LOR. JU. Yes, I'll be sworn I was ne'er guilty of reading the like, match it in all Pliny's familiar Epistles, and I'll have my judgment burn'd in the ear for a rogue, make much of thy vein, for it is inimitable. But I marle what camel it was, that had the carriage of it? for doubtless he was no ordinary beast that brought it.

PROS. Why?

LOR. JU. Why, sayest thou? why, dost thou think that any reasonable creature, especially in the morning, (the sober time of the day too) would have ta'en my father for me?

PROS. 'Sblood, you jest, I hope?

LOR. JU. Indeed, the best use we can turn it to, is to make a jest on't now: but I'll assure you, my father had the proving of your copy some hour before I saw it.

PROS. What a dull slave was this! But, sirrah, what said he to it, i'faith?

LOR. JU. Nay, I know not what he said. But I have a shrewd guess what he thought.

PRO. What? what?

LOR. JU. Marry, that thou are a damn'd dissolute villain, And I some grain or two better, in keeping thee company.

PROS. Tut, that thought is like the moon in the last quarter, 'twill change shortly: but, sirrah, I pray thee be acquainted with my two Zanies here, thou wilt take exceeding pleasure in them if thou hear'st them once, but what strange piece of silence is this? the sign of the dumb man?

LOR. JU. Oh, sir, a kinsman of mine, one that may make our music the fuller, an he please, he hath his humour, sir.

PROS. Oh, what is't? what is't?

LOR. JU. Nay, I'll neither do thy judgment nor his folly that wrong, as to prepare thy apprehension: I'll leave him to the mercy of the time, if you can take him: so.

PROS. Well, Signior Bobadilla, Signior Matheo: I pray you know this gentleman here, he is a friend of mine, and one that will well deserve your affection, I know not your name, Signior, but I shall be glad of any good occasion to be more familiar with you.

STEP. My name is Signior Stephano, sir, I am this gentleman's 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.

BOB. Signior, I must tell you this, I am no general man, embrace it as a most high favour, for (by the host of Egypt) but that I conceive you to be a gentleman of some parts, I love few words: you have wit: imagine.

STEP. Ay, truly, sir, I am mightily given to melancholy.

MAT. O Lord, sir, it's your only best humour, sir, your true melancholy breeds your perfect fine wit, sir: I am melancholy myself divers times, sir, and then do I no more but take your pen and paper presently, and write you your half score or your dozen of sonnets at a sitting.

LOR. JU. Mass, then he utters them by the gross.

STEP. Truly, sir, and I love such things out of measure.

LOR. JU. I'faith, as well as in measure.

MAT. Why, I pray you, Signior, make use of my study, it's at your service.

STEP. I thank you, sir, I shall be bold, I warrant you, have you a close stool there?

MAT. Faith, sir, I have some papers there, toys of mine own doing at idle hours, that you'll say there's some sparks of wit in them, when you shall see them.

PROS. Would they were kindled once, and a good fire made, I might see self-love burn'd for her heresy.

STEP. Cousin, is it well? am I melancholy enough?

LOR. JU. Oh, ay, excellent.

PROS. Signior Bobadilla, why muse you so?

LOR. JU. He is melancholy too.

BOB. Faith, sir, I was thinking of a most honourable piece of service was perform'd to-morrow, being St. Mark's day, shall be some ten years.

LOR. JU. In what place was that service, I pray you, sir?

BOB. Why, at the beleaguering of Ghibelletto, 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 ever I beheld with these eyes, except the taking in of Tortosa last year by the Genoways, but that (of all other) 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.

LOR. JU. Then you were a servitor at both, it seems.

BOB. O Lord, sir: by Phaeton, I was the first man that entered the breach, and had I not effected it with resolution, I had been slain if I had had a million of lives.

LOR. JU. Indeed, sir?

STEP. Nay, an you heard him discourse you would say so: how like you him?

BOB. I assure you (upon my salvation) 'tis true, and yourself shall confess.

PROS. You must bring him to the rack first.

BOB. Observe me judicially, sweet Signior: they had planted me a demi-culverin just in the mouth of the breach; now, sir, (as we were to ascend), their master gunner (a man of no mean skill and courage, you must think,) confronts me with his linstock ready to give fire; I spying his intendment, discharged my petronel in his bosom, and with this instrument, my poor rapier, ran violently upon the Moors that guarded the ordnance, and put them pell-mell to the sword.

PROS. To the sword? to the rapier, Signior.

LOR. JU. Oh, it was a good figure observed, sir: but did you all this, Signior, without hurting your blade?

BOB. Without any impeach on the earth: you shall perceive, sir, it is the most fortunate weapon that ever rid on a poor gentleman's thigh: shall I tell you, sir? you talk of Morglay, Excalibur, Durindana, or so: tut, I lend no credit to that is reported of them, I know the virtue of mine own, and therefore I dare the boldlier maintain it.

STEP. I marle whether it be a Toledo or no?

BOB. A most perfect Toledo, I assure you, Signior.

STEP. I have a countryman of his here.

MAT. Pray you let's see, sir: yes, faith, it is.

BOB. This a Toledo? pish!

STEP. Why do you pish, Signior?

BOB. A Fleming, by Phoebus! I'll buy them for a guilder a piece, an I'll have a thousand of them.

LOR. JU. How say you, cousin? I told you thus much.

PROS. Where bought you it, Signior?

STEP. Of a scurvy rogue soldier, a pox of God on him, he swore it was a Toledo.

BOB. A provant rapier, no better.

MAT. Mass, I think it be indeed.

LOR. JU. Tut, now it's too late to look on it, put it up, put it up.

STEP. Well, I will not put it up, but by God's foot, an ever I meet him —

PROS. Oh, it is past remedy now, sir, you must have patience.

STEP. Whoreson, coney-catching rascal; oh, I could eat the very hilts for anger.

LOR. JU. A sign you have a good ostrich stomach, cousin.

STEP. A stomach? would I had him here, you should see an I had a stomach.

PROS. It's better as 'tis: come, gentlemen, shall we go?

LOR. JU. A miracle, cousin, look here, look here.

[ENTER MUSCO.]

STEP. Oh, God's lid, by your leave, do you know me, sir?

MUS. Ay, sir, I know you by sight.

STEP. You sold me a rapier, did you not?

MUS. Yes, marry did I, sir.

STEP. You said it was a Toledo, ha?

MUS. True, I did so.

STEP. But it is none.

MUS. No, sir, I confess it, it is none.

STEP. Gentlemen, bear witness, he has confest it. By God's lid, an you had not confest it —

LOR. JU. Oh, cousin, forbear, forbear.

STEP. Nay, I have done, cousin.

PROS. Why, you have done like a gentleman, he has confest it, what would you more?

LOR. JU. Sirrah, how dost thou like him?

PROS. Oh, it's a precious good fool, make much on him: I can compare him to nothing more happily than a barber's virginals; for every one may play upon him.

MUS. Gentleman, shall I intreat a word with you?

LOR. JU. With all my heart, sir, you have not another Toledo to sell, have you?

MUS. You are pleasant, your name is Signior Lorenzo, as I take it?

LOR. JU. You are in the right: 'Sblood, he means to catechise me, I think.

MUS. No, sir, I leave that to the Curate, I am none of that coat.

LOR. JU. And yet of as bare a coat; well, say, sir.

MUS. Faith, Signior, I am but servant to God Mars extraordinary, and indeed (this brass varnish being washed off, and three or four other tricks sublated) I appear yours in reversion, after the decease of your good father, Musco.

LOR. JU. Musco, 'sblood, what wind hath blown thee hither in this shape?

MUS. Your easterly wind, sir, the same that blew your father hither.

LOR. JU. My father?

MUS. Nay, never start, it's true, he is come to town of purpose to seek you.

LOR. JU. Sirrah Prospero, what shall we do, sirrah? my father is come to the city.

PROS. Thy father: where is he?

MUS. At a gentleman's house yonder by St. Anthony's, where he but stays my return; and then —

PROS. Who's this? Musco?

MUS. The same, sir.

PROS. Why, how com'st thou transmuted thus?

MUS. Faith, a device, a device, nay, for the love of God, stand not here, gentlemen, house yourselves, and I'll tell you all.

LOR. JU. But art thou sure he will stay thy return?

MUS. Do I live, sir? what a question is that!

PROS. Well, we'll prorogue his expectation a little: Musco, thou shalt go with us: Come on, gentlemen: nay, I pray thee, (good rascal) droop not, 'sheart, an our wits be so gouty, that one old plodding brain can outstrip us all. Lord, I beseech thee, may they lie and starve in some miserable spittle, where they may never see the face of any true spirit again, but be perpetually haunted with some church-yard hobgoblin in seculo seculorum.

MUS. Amen, Amen.

[EXEUNT.]



ACT III.

SCENE I.

ENTER THORELLO, AND PISO.

PIS. He will expect you, sir, within this half hour.

THO. Why, what's a clock?

PIS. New stricken ten.

THO. Hath he the money ready, can you tell?

PIS. Yes, sir, Baptista brought it yesternight.

THO. Oh, that's well: fetch me my cloak. [EXIT PISO.] Stay, let me see; an hour to go and come, Ay, that will be the least: and then 'twill be An hour before I can dispatch with him; Or very near: well, I will say two hours; Two hours? ha! things never dreamt of yet May be contrived, ay, and effected too, In two hours' absence: well, I will not go. Two hours; no, fleering opportunity, I will not give your treachery that scope. Who will not judge him worthy to be robb'd, That sets his doors wide open to a thief, And shews the felon where his treasure lies? Again, what earthy spirit but will attempt To taste the fruit of beauty's golden tree, When leaden sleep seals up the dragon's eyes? Oh, beauty is a project of some power, Chiefly when opportunity attends her: She will infuse true motion in a stone, Put glowing fire in an icy soul, Stuff peasants' bosoms with proud Caesar's spleen, Pour rich device into an empty brain: Bring youth to folly's gate: there train him in, And after all, extenuate his sin. Well, I will not go, I am resolved for that. Go, carry it again: yet stay: yet do too, I will defer it till some other time.

[ENTER PISO.]

PIS. Sir, Signior Platano will meet you there with the bond.

THO. That's true: by Jesu, I had clean forgot it. I must go, what's a clock?

PIS. Past ten, sir.

THO. 'Heart, then will Prospero presently be here too, With one or other of his loose consorts. I am a Jew if I know what to say, What course to take, or which way to resolve. My brain (methinks) is like an hour-glass, And my imaginations like the sands Run dribbling forth to fill the mouth of time, Still changed with turning in the ventricle. What were I best to do? it shall be so. Nay, I dare build upon his secrecy. Piso.

PIS. Sir.

THO. Yet now I have bethought me too, I will not. Is Cob within?

PIS. I think he be, sir.

THO. But he'll prate too, there's no talk of him. No, there were no course upon the earth to this, If I durst trust him; tut, I were secure, But there's the question now, if he should prove, Rimarum plenus, then, 'sblood, I were rook'd. The state that he hath stood in till this present Doth promise no such change: what should I fear then? Well, come what will, I'll tempt my fortune once. Piso, thou mayest deceive me, but I think thou lovest me, Piso.

PIS. Sir, if a servant's zeal and humble duty may be term'd love, you are possest of it.

THO. I have a matter to impart to thee, but thou must be secret, Piso.

PIS. Sir, for that —

THO. Nay, hear me, man; think I esteem thee well, To let thee in thus to my private thoughts; Piso, it is a thing sits nearer to my crest, Than thou art 'ware of; if thou should'st reveal it —

PIS. Reveal it, sir?

THO. Nay, I do not think thou would'st, but if thou should'st —

PIS. Sir, then I were a villain: Disclaim in me for ever if I do.

THO. He will not swear: he has some meaning, sure, Else (being urged so much) how should he choose, But lend an oath to all this protestation? He is no puritan, that I am certain of. What should I think of it? urge him again, And in some other form: I will do so. Well, Piso, thou has sworn not to disclose; ay, you did swear?

PIS. Not yet, sir, but I will, so please you.

THO. Nay, I dare take thy word. But if thou wilt swear, do as you think good, I am resolved without such circumstance.

PIS. By my soul's safety, sir, I here protest, My tongue shall ne'er take knowledge of a word Deliver'd me in compass of your trust.

THO. Enough, enough, these ceremonies need not, I know thy faith to be as firm as brass. Piso, come hither: nay, we must be close In managing these actions: So it is, (Now he has sworn I dare the safelier speak;) I have of late by divers observations — But, whether his oath be lawful, yea, or no? ha! I will ask counsel ere I do proceed: Piso, it will be now too long to stay, We'll spy some fitter time soon, or to-morrow.

PIS. At your pleasure, sir.

THO. I pray you search the books 'gainst I return For the receipts 'twixt me and Platano.

PIS. I will, sir.

THO. And hear you: if my brother Prospero Chance to bring hither any gentlemen Ere I come back, let one straight bring me word.

PIS. Very well, sir.

THO. Forget it not, nor be not you out of the way.

PIS. I will not, sir.

THO. Or whether he come or no, if any other, Stranger or else: fail not to send me word.

PIS. Yes, sir.

THO. Have care, I pray you, and remember it.

PIS. I warrant you, sir.

THO. But, Piso, this is not the secret I told thee of.

PIS. No, sir, I suppose so.

THO. Nay, believe me, it is not.

PIS. I do believe you, sir.

THO. By heaven it is not, that's enough. Marry, I would not thou should'st utter it to any creature living, Yet I care not. Well, I must hence: Piso, conceive thus much, No ordinary person could have drawn So deep a secret from me; I mean not this, But that I have to tell thee: this is nothing, this. Piso, remember, silence, buried here: No greater hell than to be slave to fear.

[EXIT THO.]

PIS. Piso, remember, silence, buried here: When should this flow of passion (trow) take head? ha! Faith, I'll dream no longer of this running humour, For fear I sink, the violence of the stream Already hath transported me so far That I can feel no ground at all: but soft, [ENTER COB.] Oh, it's our water-bearer: somewhat has crost him now.

COB. Fasting days: what tell you me of your fasting days? would they were all on a light fire for me: they say the world shall be consumed with fire and brimstone in the latter day: but I would we had these ember weeks and these villainous Fridays burnt in the mean time, and then —

PIS. Why, how now, Cob! what moves thee to this choler, ha?

COB. Collar, sir? 'swounds, I scorn your collar, I, sir, am no collier's horse, sir, never ride me with your collar, an you do, I'll shew you a jade's trick.

PIS. Oh, you'll slip your head out of the collar: why, Cob, you mistake me.

COB. Nay, I have my rheum, and I be angry as well as another, sir.

PIE. Thy rheum? thy humour, man, thou mistakest.

COB. Humour? mack, I think it be so indeed: what is this humour? it's some rare thing, I warrant.

PIS. Marry, I'll tell thee what it is (as 'tis generally received in these days): it is a monster bred in a man by self-love and affectation, and fed by folly.

COB. How? must it be fed?

PIS. Oh ay, humour is nothing if it be not fed, why, didst thou never hear of that? it's a common phrase, "Feed my humour."

COB. I'll none on it: humour, avaunt, I know you not, be gone. Let who will make hungry meals for you, it shall not be I: Feed you, quoth he? 'sblood, I have much ado to feed myself, especially on these lean rascal days too, an't had been any other day but a fasting day: a plague on them all for me: by this light, one might have done God good service and have drown'd them all in the flood two or three hundred thousand years ago, oh, I do stomach them hugely: I have a maw now, an't were for Sir Bevis's horse.

PIS. Nay, but I pray thee, Cob, what makes thee so out of love with fasting days?

COB. Marry, that that will make any man out of love with them, I think: their bad conditions, an you will needs know: First, they are of a Flemish breed, I am sure on't, for they raven up more butter than all the days of the week beside: next, they stink of fish miserably: thirdly, they'll keep a man devoutly hungry all day, and at night send him supperless to bed.

PIS. Indeed, these are faults, Cob.

COB. Nay, an this were all, 'twere something, but they are the only known enemies to my generation. A fasting day no sooner comes, but my lineage goes to rack, poor Cobs, they smoke for it, they melt in passion, and your maids too know this, and yet would have me turn Hannibal, and eat my own fish and blood: my princely coz, [PULLS OUT A RED HERRING.] fear nothing; I have not the heart to devour you, an I might be made as rich as Golias: oh, that I had room for my tears, I could weep salt water enough now to preserve the lives of ten thousand of my kin: but I may curse none but these filthy Almanacks, for an 'twere not for them, these days of persecution would ne'er be known. I'll be hang'd an some fishmonger's son do not make on them, and puts in more fasting days than he should do, because he would utter his father's dried stockfish.

PIS. 'Soul, peace, thou'lt be beaten like a stockfish else: here is Signior Matheo.

[ENTER MATHEO, PROSPERO, LORENZO JUNIOR, BOBADILLA, STEPHANO, MUSCO.]

Now must I look out for a messenger to my master.

[EXEUNT COB AND PISO.]

ACT III. SCENE II.

PROS. Beshrew me, but it was an absolute good jest, and exceedingly well carried.

LOR. JU. Ay, and our ignorance maintain'd it as well, did it not?

PROS. Yes, faith, but was't possible thou should'st not know him?

LOR. JU. 'Fore God, not I, an I might have been join'd patten with one of the nine worthies for knowing him. 'Sblood, man, he had so writhen himself into the habit of one of your poor Disparview's here, your decayed, ruinous, worm-eaten gentlemen of the round: such as have vowed to sit on the skirts of the city, let your Provost and his half dozen of halberdiers do what they can; and have translated begging out of the old hackney pace, to a fine easy amble, and made it run as smooth off the tongue as a shove-groat shilling, into the likeness of one of these lean Pirgo's, had he moulded himself so perfectly, observing every trick of their action, as varying the accent: swearing with an emphasis. Indeed, all with so special and exquisite a grace, that (hadst thou seen him) thou would'st have sworn he might have been the Tamberlane, or the Agamemnon on the rout.

PROS. Why, Musco, who would have thought thou hadst been such a gallant?

LOR. JU. I cannot tell, but (unless a man had juggled begging all his life time, and been a weaver of phrases from his infancy, for the apparelling of it) I think the world cannot produce his rival.

PROS. Where got'st thou this coat, I marle?

MUS. Faith, sir, I had it of one of the devil's near kinsmen, a broker.

PROS. That cannot be, if the proverb hold, a crafty knave needs no broker.

MUS. True, sir, but I need a broker, ergo, no crafty knave.

PROS. Well put off, well put off.

LOR. JU. Tut, he has more of these shifts.

MUS. And yet where I have one, the broker has ten, sir.

[ENTER PIS.]

PIS. Francisco, Martino, ne'er a one to be found now: what a spite's this?

PROS. How now, Piso? is my brother within?

PIS. No, sir, my master went forth e'en now, but Signior Giuliano is within. Cob, what, Cob! Is he gone too?

PROS. Whither went thy master? Piso, canst thou tell?

PIS. I know not, to Doctor Clement's, I think, sir. Cob.

[EXIT PIS.]

LOR. JU. Doctor Clement, what's he? I have heard much speech of him.

PROS. Why, dost thou not know him? he is the Gonfaloniere of the state here, an excellent rare civilian, and a great scholar, but the only mad merry old fellow in Europe: I shewed him you the other day.

LOR. JU. Oh, I remember him now; Good faith, and he hath a very strange presence, methinks, it shews as if he stood out of the rank from other men. I have heard many of his jests in Padua; they say he will commit a man for taking the wall of his horse.

PROS. Ay, or wearing his cloak on one shoulder, or any thing indeed, if it come in the way of his humour.

PIS. Gaspar, Martino, Cob: 'Sheart, where should they be, trow?

[ENTER PISO.]

BOB. Signior Thorello's man, I pray thee vouchsafe us the lighting of this match.

PIS. A pox on your match, no time but now to vouchsafe? Francisco, Cob.

[EXIT.]

BOB. Body of me: here's the remainder of seven pound, since yesterday was sevennight. It's your right Trinidado: did you never take any, signior?

STEP. No, truly, sir; but I'll learn to take it now, since you commend it so.

BOB. Signior, believe me (upon my relation) for what I tell you, the world shall not improve. I have been in the Indies, (where this herb grows) where neither myself nor a dozen gentlemen more (of my knowledge) have received the taste of any other nutriment in the world, for the space of one and twenty weeks, but tobacco only. Therefore it cannot be but 'tis most divine. Further, take it in the nature, in the true kind, so, it makes an antidote, that had you taken the most deadly poisonous simple in all Florence it should expel it, and clarify you with as much ease as I speak. And for your green wound, your Balsamum, and your — are all mere gulleries, and trash to it, especially your Trinidado: your Nicotian is good too: I could say what I know of the virtue of it, for the exposing of rheums, raw humours, crudities, obstructions, with a thousand of this kind; but I profess myself no quack-salver. Only thus much; by Hercules, I do hold it, and will affirm it (before any Prince in Europe) to be the most sovereign and precious herb that ever the earth tendered to the use of man.

LOR. JU. Oh, this speech would have done rare in an apothecary's mouth.

[ENTER PISO AND COB.]

PIS. Ay; close by Saint Anthony's: Doctor Clement's.

COB. Oh, oh.

BOB. Where's the match I gave thee?

PIS. 'Sblood, would his match, and he, and pipe, and all, were at Sancto Domingo.

[EXIT.]

COB. By God's deins, I marle what pleasure or felicity they have in taking this roguish tobacco; it's good for nothing but to choke a man, and fill him full of smoke and embers: there were four died out of one house last week with taking of it, and two more the bell went for yesternight, one of them (they say) will ne'er escape it, he voided a bushel of soot yesterday, upward and downward. By the stocks, an there were no wiser men than I, I'd have it present death, man or woman, that should but deal with a tobacco pipe; why, it will stifle them all in the end as many as use it; it's little better than rat's-bane.

[EXIT PISO.]

ALL. Oh, good Signior; hold, hold.

BOB. You base cullion, you.

PIS. Sir, here's your match; come, thou must needs be talking too.

COB. Nay, he will not meddle with his match, I warrant you; well, it shall be a dear beating, an I live.

BOB. Do you prate?

LOR. JU. Nay, good Signior, will you regard the humour of a fool? Away, knave.

PROS. Piso, get him away.

[EXIT PISO AND COB.]

BOB. A whoreson filthy slave, a turd, an excrement. Body of Caesar, but that I scorn to let forth so mean a spirit, I'd have stabb'd him to the earth.

PROS. Marry, God forbid, sir.

BOB. By this fair heaven, I would have done it.

STEP. Oh, he swears admirably; (by this fair heaven!) Body of Caesar: I shall never do it, sure (upon my salvation). No, I have not the right grace.

MAT. Signior, will you any? By this air, the most divine tobacco as ever I drunk.

LOR. JU. I thank you, sir.

STEP. Oh, this gentleman doth it rarely too, but nothing like the other. By this air, as I am a gentleman: By Phoebus.

[EXIT BOB. AND MAT.]

MUS. Master, glance, glance: Signior Prospero.

STEP. As I have a soul to be saved, I do protest —

PROS. That you are a fool.

LOR. JU. Cousin, will you any tobacco?

STEP. Ay, sir: upon my salvation.

LOR. JU. How now, cousin?

STEP. I protest, as I am a gentleman, but no soldier indeed.

PROS. No, Signior, as I remember, you served on a great horse, last general muster.

STEP. Ay, sir, that's true, cousin, may I swear as I am a soldier, by that?

LOR. JU. Oh yes, that you may.

STEP. Then as I am a gentleman, and a soldier, it is divine tobacco.

PROS. But soft, where's Signior Matheo? gone?

MUS. No, sir, they went in here.

PROS. Oh, let's follow them: Signior Matheo is gone to salute his mistress, sirrah, now thou shalt hear some of his verses, for he never comes hither without some shreds of poetry: Come, Signior Stephano. Musco.

STEP. Musco? where? Is this Musco?

LOR. JU. Ay; but peace, cousin, no words of it at any hand.

STEP. Not I, by this fair heaven, as I have a soul to be saved, by Phoebus.

PROS. Oh rare! your cousin's discourse is simply suited, all in oaths.

LOR. JU. Ay, he lacks nothing but a little light stuff, to draw them out withal, and he were rarely fitted to the time.

[EXEUNT.]

ACT III. SCENE III.

ENTER THORELLO WITH COB.

THO. Ha, how many are there, sayest thou?

COB. Marry, sir, your brother, Signior Prospero.

THO. Tut, beside him: what strangers are there, man?

COB. Strangers? let me see, one, two; mass, I know not well, there's so many.

THO. How? so many?

COB. Ay, there's some five or six of them at the most.

THO. A swarm, a swarm? Spite of the devil, how they sting my heart! How long hast thou been coming hither, Cob?

COB. But a little while, sir.

THO. Didst thou come running?

COB. No, sir.

THO. Tut, then I am familiar with thy haste. Ban to my fortunes: what meant I to marry? I that before was rank'd in such content, My mind attired in smooth silken peace, Being free master of mine own free thoughts, And now become a slave? what, never sigh, Be of good cheer, man: for thou art a cuckold, 'Tis done, 'tis done: nay, when such flowing store, Plenty itself falls in my wife's lap, The Cornucopiae will be mine, I know. But, Cob, What entertainment had they? I am sure My sister and my wife would bid them welcome, ha?

COB. Like enough: yet I heard not a word of welcome.

THO. No, their lips were seal'd with kisses, and the voice Drown'd in a flood of joy at their arrival, Had lost her motion, state, and faculty. Cob, which of them was't that first kiss'd my wife? (My sister, I should say,) my wife, alas, I fear not her: ha? who was it, say'st thou?

COB. By my troth, sir, will you have the truth of it?

THO. Oh ay, good Cob: I pray thee.

COB. God's my judge, I saw nobody to be kiss'd, unless they would have kiss'd the post in the middle of the warehouse; for there I left them all, at their tobacco, with a pox.

THO. How? were they not gone in then ere thou cam'st?

COB. Oh no, sir.

THO. Spite of the devil, what do I stay here then? Cob, follow me.

[EXIT THO.]

COB. Nay, soft and fair, I have eggs on the spit; I cannot go yet sir: now am I for some divers reasons hammering, hammering revenge: oh, for three or four gallons of vinegar, to sharpen my wits: Revenge, vinegar revenge, russet revenge; nay, an he had not lien in my house, 'twould never have grieved me; but being my guest, one that I'll be sworn my wife has lent him her smock off her back, while his own shirt has been at washing: pawned her neckerchers for clean bands for him: sold almost all my platters to buy him tobacco; and yet to see an ingratitude wretch strike his host; well, I hope to raise up an host of furies for't: here comes M. Doctor.

[ENTER DOCTOR CLEMENT, LORENZO SENIOR, PETO.]

CLEM. What's Signior Thorello gone?

PET. Ay, sir.

CLEM. Heart of me, what made him leave us so abruptly? How now, sirrah; what make you here? what would you have, ha?

COB. An't please your worship, I am a poor neighbour of your worship's.

CLEM. A neighbour of mine, knave?

COB. Ay, sir, at the sign of the Water-tankard, hard by the Green Lattice: I have paid scot and lot there any time this eighteen years.

CLEM. What, at the Green Lattice?

COB. No sir: to the parish: marry, I have seldom scaped scot-free at the Lattice.

CLEM. So: but what business hath my neighbour?

COB. An't like your worship, I am come to crave the peace of your worship.

CLEM. Of me, knave? peace of me, knave? did I e'er hurt thee? did I ever threaten thee? or wrong thee? ha?

COB. No, God's my comfort, I mean your worship's warrant, for one that hath wrong'd me, sir: his arms are at too much liberty, I would fain have them bound to a treaty of peace, an I could by any means compass it.

LOR. Why, dost thou go in danger of thy life for him?

COB. No, sir; but I go in danger of my death every hour by his means; an I die within a twelve-month and a day, I may swear, by the laws of the land, that he kill'd me.

CLEM. How? how, knave? swear he kill'd thee? what pretext? what colour hast thou for that?

COB. Marry, sir, both black and blue, colour enough, I warrant you, I have it here to shew your worship.

CLEM. What is he that gave you this, sirrah?

COB. A gentleman in the city, sir.

CLEM. A gentleman? what call you him?

COB. Signior Bobadilla.

CLEM. Good: But wherefore did he beat you, sirrah? how began the quarrel 'twixt you? ha: speak truly, knave, I advise you.

COB. Marry, sir, because I spake against their vagrant tobacco, as I came by them: for nothing else.

CLEM. Ha, you speak against tobacco? Peto, his name.

PET. What's your name, sirrah?

COB. Oliver Cob, sir, set Oliver Cob, sir.

CLEM. Tell Oliver Cob he shall go to the jail.

PET. Oliver Cob, master Doctor says you shall go to the jail.

COB. Oh, I beseech your worship, for God's love, dear master Doctor.

CLEM. Nay, God's precious! an such drunken knaves as you are come to dispute of tobacco once, I have done: away with him.

COB. Oh, good master Doctor, sweet gentleman.

LOR. SE. Sweet Oliver, would I could do thee any good; master Doctor, let me intreat, sir.

CLEM. What? a tankard-bearer, a thread-bare rascal, a beggar, a slave that never drunk out of better than piss-pot metal in his life, and he to deprave and abuse the virtue of an herb so generally received in the courts of princes, the chambers of nobles, the bowers of sweet ladies, the cabins of soldiers: Peto, away with him, by God's passion, I say, go to.

COB. Dear master Doctor.

LOR. SE. Alas, poor Oliver.

CLEM. Peto: ay: and make him a warrant, he shall not go, I but fear the knave.

COB. O divine Doctor, thanks, noble Doctor, most dainty Doctor, delicious Doctor.

[EXEUNT PETO WITH COB.]

CLEM. Signior Lorenzo: God's pity, man, Be merry, be merry, leave these dumps.

LOR. SE. Troth, would I could, sir: but enforced mirth (In my weak judgment) has no happy birth. The mind, being once a prisoner unto cares, The more it dreams on joy, the worse it fares. A smiling look is to a heavy soul As a gilt bias to a leaden bowl, Which (in itself) appears most vile, being spent To no true use; but only for ostent.

CLEM. Nay, but, good Signior, hear me a word, hear me a word, your cares are nothing; they are like my cap, soon put on, and as soon put off. What? your son is old enough to govern himself; let him run his course, it's the only way to make him a staid man: if he were an unthrift, a ruffian, a drunkard, or a licentious liver, then you had reason: you had reason to take care: but being none of these, God's passion, an I had twice so many cares as you have, I'd drown them all in a cup of sack: come, come, I muse your parcel of a soldier returns not all this while.

[EXEUNT.]

ACT III. SCENE IV.

ENTER GIULIANO, WITH BIANCHA.

GIU. Well, sister, I tell you true: and you'll find it so in the end.

BIA. Alas, brother, what would you have me to do? I cannot help it; you see, my brother Prospero he brings them in here, they are his friends.

GIU. His friends? his friends? 'sblood, they do nothing but haunt him up and down like a sort of unlucky sprites, and tempt him to all manner of villainy that can be thought of; well, by this light, a little thing would make me play the devil with some of them; an't were not more for your husband's sake than any thing else, I'd make the house too hot for them; they should say and swear, hell were broken loose, ere they went. But by God's bread, 'tis nobody's fault but yours; for an you had done as you might have done, they should have been damn'd ere they should have come in, e'er a one of them.

BIA. God's my life; did you ever hear the like? what a strange man is this! could I keep out all them, think you? I should put myself against half a dozen men, should I? Good faith, you'd mad the patient'st body in the world, to hear you talk so, without any sense or reason.

[ENTER MATHEO WITH HESPERIDA, BOBADILLA, STEPHANO, LORENZO JUNIOR, PROSPERO, MUSCO.]

HESP. Servant, (in troth) you are too prodigal of your wits' treasure, thus to pour it forth upon so mean a subject as my worth.

MAT. You say well, you say well.

GIU. Hoyday, here is stuff.

LOR. JU. Oh now stand close; pray God she can get him to read it.

PROS. Tut, fear not: I warrant thee he will do it of himself with much impudency.

HES. Servant, what is that same, I pray you?

MAT. Marry, an Elegy, an Elegy, an odd toy.

GIU. Ay, to mock an ape withal. O Jesu.

BIA. Sister, I pray you let's hear it.

MAT. Mistress, I'll read it, if you please.

HES. I pray you do, servant.

GIU. Oh, here's no foppery. 'Sblood, it frets me to the gall to think on it.

[EXIT.]

PROS. Oh ay, it is his condition, peace: we are fairly rid of him.

MAT. Faith, I did it in an humour: I know not how it is, but please you come near, signior: this gentleman hath judgment, he knows how to censure of a — I pray you, sir, you can judge.

STEP. Not I, sir: as I have a soul to be saved, as I am a gentleman.

LOR. JU. Nay, it's well; so long as he doth not forswear himself.

BOB. Signior, you abuse the excellency of your mistress and her fair sister. Fie, while you live avoid this prolixity.

MAT. I shall, sir; well, incipere dulce.

LOR. JU. How, incipere dulce? a sweet thing to be a fool indeed.

PROS. What, do you take incipere in that sense?

LOR. JU. You do not, you? 'Sblood, this was your villainy to gull him with a motte.

PROS. Oh, the benchers' phrase: pauca verba, pauca verba.

MAT. "Rare creature, let me speak without offence, Would God my rude words had the influence To rule thy thoughts, as thy fair looks do mine, Then shouldst thou be his prisoner, who is thine."

LOR. JU. 'Sheart, this is in Hero and Leander!

PROS. Oh ay: peace, we shall have more of this.

MAT. "Be not unkind and fair: misshapen stuff Is of behaviour boisterous and rough": How like you that, Signior? 'sblood, he shakes his head like a bottle, to feel an there be any brain in it.

MAT. But observe the catastrophe now, "And I in duty will exceed all other, As you in beauty do excel love's mother."

LOR. JU. Well, I'll have him free of the brokers, for he utters nothing but stolen remnants.

PROS. Nay, good critic, forbear.

LOR. JU. A pox on him, hang him, filching rogue, steal from the dead? it's worse than sacrilege.

PROS. Sister, what have you here? verses? I pray you let's see.

BIA. Do you let them go so lightly, sister?

HES. Yes, faith, when they come lightly.

BIA. Ay, but if your servant should hear you, he would take it heavily.

HES. No matter, he is able to bear.

BIA. So are asses.

HES. So is he.

PROS. Signior Matheo, who made these verses? they are excellent good.

MAT. O God, sir, it's your pleasure to say so, sir. Faith, I made them extempore this morning.

PROS. How extempore?

MAT. Ay, would I might be damn'd else; ask Signior Bobadilla. He saw me write them, at the — (pox on it) the Mitre yonder.

MUS. Well, an the Pope knew he cursed the Mitre it were enough to have him excommunicated all the taverns in the town.

STEP. Cousin, how do you like this gentleman's verses?

LOR. JU. Oh, admirable, the best that ever I heard.

STEP. By this fair heavens, they are admirable, The best that ever I heard.

[ENTER GIULIANO.]

GIU. I am vext I can hold never a bone of me still, 'Sblood, I think they mean to build a Tabernacle here, well?

PROS. Sister, you have a simple servant here, that crowns your beauty with such encomiums and devices, you may see what it is to be the mistress of a wit that can make your perfections so transparent, that every blear eye may look through them, and see him drowned over head and ears in the deep well of desire. Sister Biancha, I marvel you get you not a servant that can rhyme and do tricks too.

GIU. O monster! impudence itself! tricks!

BIA. Tricks, brother? what tricks?

HES. Nay, speak, I pray you, what tricks?

BIA. Ay, never spare any body here: but say, what tricks?

HES. Passion of my heart! do tricks?

PROS. 'Sblood, here's a trick vied, and revied: why, you monkeys, you! what a cater-wauling do you keep! has he not given you rhymes, and verses, and tricks?

GIU. Oh, see the devil!

PROS. Nay, you lamp of virginity, that take it in snuff so: come and cherish this tame poetical fury in your servant, you'll be begg'd else shortly for a concealment: go to, reward his muse, you cannot give him less than a shilling in conscience, for the book he had it out of cost him a teston at the least. How now gallants, Lorenzo, Signior Bobadilla! what, all sons of silence? no spirit.

GIU. Come, you might practise your ruffian tricks somewhere else, and not here, I wiss: this is no tavern, nor no place for such exploits.

PROS. 'Sheart, how now!

GIU. Nay, boy, never look askance at me for the matter; I'll tell you of it, by God's bread, ay, and you and your companions mend yourselves when I have done.

PROS. My companions?

GIU. Ay, your companions, sir, so I say! 'Sblood, I am not afraid of you nor them neither, you must have your poets, and your cavaliers, and your fools follow you up and down the city, and here they must come to domineer and swagger? sirrah, you ballad-singer, and slops, your fellow there, get you out; get you out: or (by the will of God) I'll cut off your ears, go to.

PROS. 'Sblood, stay, let's see what he dare do: cut off his ears; you are an ass, touch any man here, and by the Lord I'll run my rapier to the hilts in thee.

GIU. Yea, that would I fain see, boy.

BIA. O Jesu! Piso! Matheo! murder!

HES. Help, help, Piso!

[THEY ALL DRAW, ENTER PISO AND SOME MORE OF THE HOUSE TO PART THEM, THE WOMEN MAKE A GREAT CRY.]

LOR. JU. Gentlemen, Prospero, forbear, I pray you.

BOB. Well, sirrah, you Holofernes: by my hand, I will pink thy flesh full of holes with my rapier for this, I will, by this good heaven: nay, let him come, let him come, gentlemen, by the body of St. George, I'll not kill him.

[THEY OFFER TO FIGHT AGAIN, AND ARE PARTED.]

PIS. Hold, hold, forbear.

GIU. You whoreson, bragging coistril.

[ENTER THORELLO.]

THO. Why, how now? what's the matter? what stir is here? Whence springs this quarrel? Piso, where is he? Put up your weapons, and put off this rage. My wife and sister, they are cause of this. What, Piso? where is this knave?

PIS. Here, sir.

PROS. Come, let's go: this is one of my brother's ancient humours, this.

STEP. I am glad nobody was hurt by this ancient humour.

[EXIT PROSPERO, LORENZO JU., MUSCO, STEPHANO, BOBADILLA, MATHEO.]

THO. Why, how now, brother, who enforced this brawl?

GIU. A sort of lewd rake-hells, that care neither for God nor the devil. And they must come here to read ballads and roguery, and trash. I'll mar the knot of them ere I sleep, perhaps; especially Signior Pithagoras, he that's all manner of shapes: and songs and sonnets, his fellow there.

HES. Brother, indeed you are too violent, Too sudden in your courses, and you know My brother Prospero's temper will not bear Any reproof, chiefly in such a presence, Where every slight disgrace he should receive, Would wound him in opinion and respect.

GIU. Respect? what talk you of respect 'mongst such As had neither spark of manhood nor good manners? By God I am ashamed to hear you: respect?

[EXIT.]

HES. Yes, there was one a civil gentleman, And very worthily demeaned himself.

THO. Oh, that was some love of yours, sister.

HES. A love of mine? i'faith, I would he were No other's love but mine.

BIA. Indeed, he seem'd to be a gentleman of an exceeding fair disposition, and of very excellent good parts.

[EXIT HESPERIDA, BIANCHA.]

THO. Her love, by Jesu: my wife's minion, Fair disposition? excellent good parts? 'Sheart, these phrases are intolerable, Good parts? how should she know his parts? well, well, It is too plain, too clear: Piso, come hither. What, are they gone?

PIS. Ay, sir, they went in.

THO. Are any of the gallants within?

PIS. No sir, they are all gone.

THO. Art thou sure of it?

PIS. Ay, sir, I can assure you.

THO. Piso, what gentleman was that they praised so?

PISO. One they call him Signior Lorenzo, a fair young gentleman, sir.

THO. Ay, I thought so: my mind gave me as much: 'Sblood, I'll be hang'd if they have not hid him in the house, Some where, I'll go search, Piso, go with me, Be true to me and thou shalt find me bountiful.

[EXEUNT.]

ACT III. SCENE V.

ENTER COB, TO HIM TIB.

COB. What, Tib, Tib, I say.

TIB. How now, what cuckold is that knocks so hard? Oh, husband, is't you? What's the news?

COB. Nay, you have stunn'd me, i'faith; you have given me a knock on the forehead will stick by me: cuckold? 'Swounds, cuckold?

TIB. Away, you fool, did I know it was you that knock'd? Come, come, you may call me as bad when you list.

COB. May I? 'swounds, Tib, you are a whore.

TIB. 'Sheart, you lie in your throat.

COB. How, the lie? and in my throat too? do you long to be stabb'd, ha?

TIB. Why, you are no soldier?

COB. Mass, that's true, when was Bobadilla here? that rogue, that slave, that fencing Burgullion? I'll tickle him, i'faith.

TIB. Why, what's the matter?

COB. Oh, he hath basted me rarely, sumptuously: but I have it here will sauce him, oh, the doctor, the honestest old Trojan in all Italy, I do honour the very flea of his dog: a plague on him, he put me once in a villainous filthy fear: marry, it vanish'd away like the smoke of tobacco: but I was smok'd soundly first, I thank the devil, and his good angel my guest: well, wife, or Tib, (which you will) get you in, and lock the door, I charge you; let nobody into you, not Bobadilla himself, nor the devil in his likeness; you are a woman; you have flesh and blood enough in you; therefore be not tempted; keep the door shut upon all comers.

TIB. I warrant you there shall nobody enter here without my consent.

COB. Nor with your consent, sweet Tib, and so I leave you.

TIB. It's more than you know, whether you leave me so.

COB. How?

TIB. Why, sweet.

COB. Tut, sweet or sour, thou art a flower. Keep close thy door, I ask no more.

[EXEUNT.]

ACT III. SCENE VI.

ENTER LORENZO JUN., PROSPERO, STEPHANO, MUSCO.

LOR JU. Well, Musco, perform this business happily, And thou makest a conquest of my love for ever.

PROS. I'faith, now let thy spirits put on their best habit, But at any hand remember thy message to my brother, For there's no other means to start him.

MUS. I warrant you, sir, fear nothing; I have a nimble soul that hath waked all my imaginative forces by this time, and put them in true motion: what you have possest me withal, I'll discharge it amply, sir. Make no question.

[EXIT MUSCO.]

PROS. That's well said, Musco: faith, sirrah, how dost thou approve my wit in this device?

LOR JU. Troth, well, howsoever; but excellent if it take.

PROS. Take, man: why, it cannot choose but take, if the circumstances miscarry not, but tell me zealously: dost thou affect my sister Hesperida, as thou pretendest?

LOR JU. Prospero, by Jesu.

PROS. Come, do not protest, I believe thee: i'faith, she is a virgin of good ornament, and much modesty, unless I conceived very worthily of her, thou shouldest not have her.

LOR JU. Nay, I think it a question whether I shall have her for all that.

PROS. 'Sblood, thou shalt have her, by this light, thou shalt!

LOR JU. Nay, do not swear.

PROS. By St. Mark, thou shalt have her: I'll go fetch her presently, 'point but where to meet, and by this hand, I'll bring her!

LOR JU. Hold, hold, what, all policy dead? no prevention of mischiefs stirring.

PROS. Why, by — what shall I swear by? thou shalt have her, by my soul.

LOR. JU. I pray thee have patience, I am satisfied: Prospero, omit no offered occasion that may make my desires complete, I beseech thee.

PROS. I warrant thee.

[EXEUNT.]



ACT IV.

SCENE I.

ENTER LORENZO SEN., PETO, MEETING MUSCO.

PETO. Was your man a soldier, sir?

LOR. SE. Ay, a knave, I took him up begging upon the way, This morning as I was coming to the city. Oh! here he is; come on, you make fair speed: Why, where in God's name have you been so long?

MUS. Marry, (God's my comfort) where I thought I should have had little comfort of your worship's service.

LOR. SE. How so?

MUS. O God, sir! your coming to the city, and your entertainment of men, and your sending me to watch; indeed, all the circumstances are as open to your son as to yourself.

LOR. SE. How should that be? Unless that villain Musco Have told him of the letter, and discovered All that I strictly charged him to conceal? 'tis so.

MUS. I'faith, you have hit it: 'tis so indeed.

LOR. SE. But how should he know thee to be my man?

MUS. Nay, sir, I cannot tell; unless it were by the black art? is not your son a scholar, sir?

LOR. SE. Yes; but I hope his soul is not allied To such a devilish practice: if it were, I had just cause to weep my part in him. And curse the time of his creation. But where didst thou find them, Portensio?

MUS. Nay, sir, rather you should ask where they found me? for I'll be sworn I was going along in the street, thinking nothing, when (of a sudden) one calls, "Signior Lorenzo's man": another, he cries "soldier": and thus half a dozen of them, till they had got me within doors, where I no sooner came, but out flies their rapiers and all bent against my breast, they swore some two or three hundred oaths, and all to tell me I was but a dead man, if I did not confess where you were, and how I was employed, and about what; which, when they could not get out of me, (as God's my judge, they should have kill'd me first,) they lock'd me up into a room in the top of a house, where, by great miracle, (having a light heart) I slid down by a bottom of packthread into the street, and so scaped: but, master, thus much I can assure you, for I heard it while I was lock'd up: there were a great many merchants and rich citizens' wives with them at a banquet, and your son, Signior Lorenzo, has 'pointed one of them to meet anon at one Cob's house, a water-bearer's, that dwells by the wall: now there you shall be sure to take him: for fail he will not.

LOR. SE. Nor will I fail to break this match, I doubt not; Well, go thou along with master Doctor's man, And stay there for me; at one Cob's house, say'st thou?

[EXIT.]

MUS. Ay, sir, there you shall have him: when can you tell? Much wench, or much son: 'sblood, when he has stay'd there three or four hours, travelling with the expectation of somewhat; and at the length be delivered of nothing: oh, the sport that I should then take to look on him if I durst; but now I mean to appear no more afore him in this shape: I have another trick to act yet; oh, that I were so happy as to light upon an ounce now of this Doctor's clerk: God save you, sir.

PETO. I thank you, good sir.

MUS. I have made you stay somewhat long, sir.

PETO. Not a whit, sir, I pray you what, sir, do you mean? you have been lately in the wars, sir, it seems.

MUS. Ay, marry have I, sir.

PETO. Troth, sir, I would be glad to bestow a bottle of wine on you, if it please you to accept it.

MUS. O Lord, sir.

PETO. But to hear the manner of your services, and your devices in the wars, they say they be very strange, and not like those a man reads in the Roman histories.

MUS. O God, no, sir, why, at any time when it please you, I shall be ready to discourse to you what I know: and more too somewhat.

PETO. No better time than now, sir, we'll go to the Mermaid: there we shall have a cup of neat wine, I pray you, sir, let me request you.

MUS. I'll follow you, sir, he is mine own, i'faith.

[EXEUNT.]

ENTER BOBADILLA, LORENZO JUN., MATHEO, STEPHANO.

MAT. Signior, did you ever see the like clown of him where we were to-day: Signior Prospero's brother? I think the whole earth cannot shew his like, by Jesu.

LOR. JU. We were now speaking of him, Signior Bobadillo tells me he is fallen foul of you too.

MAT. Oh ay, sir, he threatened me with the bastinado.

BOB. Ay, but I think I taught you a trick this morning for that. You shall kill him without all question, if you be so minded.

MAT. Indeed, it is a most excellent trick.

BOB. Oh, you do not give spirit enough to your motion; you are too dull, too tardy: oh, it must be done like lightning, hay!

MAT. Oh, rare.

BOB. Tut, 'tis nothing an't be not done in a —

LOR. JU. Signior, did you never play with any of our masters here?

MAT. Oh, good sir.

BOB. Nay, for a more instance of their preposterous humour, there came three or four of them to me, at a gentleman's house, where it was my chance to be resident at that time, to intreat my presence at their schools, and withal so much importuned me, that (I protest to you as I am a gentleman) I was ashamed of their rude demeanour out of all measure: well, I told them that to come to a public school they should pardon me, it was opposite to my humour, but if so they would attend me at my lodging, I protested to do them what right or favour I could, as I was a gentleman, etc.

LOR. JU. So sir, then you tried their skill.

BOB. Alas, soon tried: you shall hear, sir, within two or three days after they came, and by Jesu, good Signior, believe me, I graced them exceedingly, shewed them some two or three tricks of prevention hath got them since admirable credit, they cannot deny this; and yet now they hate me, and why? because I am excellent, and for no other reason on the earth.

LOR. JU. This is strange and vile as ever I heard.

BOB. I will tell you, sir, upon my first coming to the city, they assaulted me some three, four, five, six of them together, as I have walk'd alone in divers places of the city; as upon the Exchange, at my lodging, and at my ordinary, where I have driven them afore me the whole length of a street, in the open view of all our gallants, pitying to hurt them, believe me; yet all this lenity will not depress their spleen; they will be doing with the pismire, raising a hill a man may spurn abroad with his foot at pleasure: by my soul, I could have slain them all, but I delight not in murder: I am loth to bear any other but a bastinado for them, and yet I hold it good policy not to go disarm'd, for though I be skilful, I may be suppressed with multitudes.

LOR. JU. Ay, by Jesu, may you, sir, and (in my conceit) our whole nation should sustain the loss by it, if it were so.

BOB. Alas, no: what's a peculiar man to a nation? not seen.

LOR. JU. Ay, but your skill, sir.

BOB. Indeed, that might be some loss, but who respects it? I will tell you, Signior, (in private) I am a gentleman, and live here obscure, and to myself; but were I known to the Duke (observe me) I would undertake (upon my head and life) for the public benefit of the state, not only to spare the entire lives of his subjects in general, but to save the one half, nay, three parts of his yearly charges, in holding wars generally against all his enemies; and how will I do it, think you?

LOR. JU. Nay, I know not, nor can I conceive.

BOB. Marry, thus, I would select nineteen more to myself, throughout the land, gentlemen they should be of good spirit; strong and able constitution, I would choose them by an instinct, a trick that I have, and I would teach these nineteen the special tricks, as your punto, your reverso, your stoccato, your imbroccato, your passado, your montanto, till they could all play very near or altogether as well as myself. This done, say the enemy were forty thousand strong: we twenty would come into the field the tenth of March, or thereabouts, and would challenge twenty of the enemy; they could not in their honour refuse the combat: well, we would kill them: challenge twenty more, kill them; twenty more, kill them; twenty more, kill them too; and thus would we kill every man his twenty a day, that's twenty score; twenty score, that's two hundred; two hundred a day, five days a thousand: forty thousand; forty times five, five times forty, two hundred days kills them all, by computation, and this will I venture my life to perform: provided there be no treason practised upon us.

LOR. JU. Why, are you so sure of your hand at all times?

BOB. Tut, never mistrust, upon my soul.

LOR. JU. Mass, I would not stand in Signior Giuliano's state, then, an you meet him, for the wealth of Florence.

BOB. Why Signior, by Jesu, if he were here now, I would not draw my weapon on him, let this gentleman do his mind, but I will bastinado him (by heaven) an ever I meet him.

[ENTER GIULIANO AND GOES OUT AGAIN.]

MAT. Faith, and I'll have a fling at him.

LOR. JU. Look, yonder he goes, I think.

GIU. 'Sblood, what luck have I, I cannot meet with these bragging rascals.

BOB. It's not he: is it?

LOR. JU. Yes, faith, it is he.

MAT. I'll be hang'd then if that were he.

LOR. JU. Before God, it was he: you make me swear.

STEP. Upon my salvation, it was he.

BOB. Well, had I thought it had been he, he could not have gone so, but I cannot be induced to believe it was he yet.

[ENTER GIU.]

GIU. Oh, gallant, have I found you? draw to your tools; draw, or by God's will I'll thrash you.

BOB. Signior, hear me.

GIU. Draw your weapons then.

BOB. Signior, I never thought it till now: body of St. George, I have a warrant of the peace served on me even now, as I came along, by a water-bearer, this gentleman saw it, Signior Matheo.

GIU. The peace! 'Sblood, you will not draw?

[MATHEO RUNS AWAY. HE BEATS HIM AND DISARMS HIM.]

LOR. JU. Hold, Signior, hold, under thy favour forbear.

GIU. Prate again as you like this, you whoreson cowardly rascal, you'll control the point, you? your consort he is gone; had he staid he had shared with you, in faith.

[EXIT GIULIANO.]

BOB. Well, gentlemen, bear witness, I was bound to the peace, by Jesu.

LOR. JU. Why, and though you were, sir, the law allows you to defend yourself; that's but a poor excuse.

BOB. I cannot tell; I never sustained the like disgrace (by heaven); sure I was struck with a planet then, for I had no power to touch my weapon.

[EXIT.]

LOR. JU. Ay, like enough; I have heard of many that have been beaten under a planet; go, get you to the surgeon's, 'sblood, an these be your tricks, your passados, and your montantos, I'll none of them: O God, that this age should bring forth such creatures! come, cousin.

STEP. Mass, I'll have this cloak.

LOR. JU. God's will: it's Giuliano's.

STEP. Nay, but 'tis mine now, another might have ta'en it up as well as I, I'll wear it, so I will.

LOR. JU. How an he see it? he'll challenge it, assure yourself.

STEP. Ay, but he shall not have it; I'll say I bought it.

LOR. JU. Advise you, cousin, take heed he give not you as much.

[EXEUNT.]

ENTER THORELLO, PROSPERO, BIANCHA, HESPERIDA.

THO. Now trust me, Prospero, you were much to blame, T' incense your brother and disturb the peace Of my poor house, for there be sentinels, That every minute watch to give alarms Of civil war, without adjection Of your assistance and occasion.

PROS. No harm done, brother, I warrant you: since there is no harm done, anger costs a man nothing: and a tall man is never his own man till he be angry, to keep his valour in obscurity, is to keep himself as it were in a cloak-bag: what's a musician unless he play? what's a tall man unless he fight? for indeed, all this my brother stands upon absolutely, and that made me fall in with him so resolutely.

BIA. Ay, but what harm might have come of it?

PROS. Might? so might the good warm clothes your husband wears be poison'd for any thing he knows, or the wholesome wine he drunk even now at the table.

THO. Now, God forbid: O me! now I remember, My wife drunk to me last; and changed the cup, And bade me wear this cursed suit to-day, See if God suffer murder undiscover'd! I feel me ill; give me some mithridate, Some mithridate and oil; good sister, fetch me, Oh, I am sick at heart: I burn, I burn; If you will save my life, go fetch it me.

PROS. Oh, strange humour, my very breath hath poison'd him.

HES. Good brother, be content, what do you mean? The strength of these extreme conceits will kill you.

BIA. Beshrew your heart-blood, brother Prospero, For putting such a toy into his head.

PROS. Is a fit simile a toy? will he be poison'd with a simile? Brother Thorello, what a strange and vain imagination is this? For shame be wiser, on my soul there's no such matter.

THO. Am I not sick? how am I then not poison'd? Am I not poison'd? how am I then so sick?

BIA. If you be sick, your own thoughts make you sick.

PROS. His jealousy is the poison he hath taken.

[ENTER MUSCO LIKE THE DOCTOR'S MAN.]

MUS. Signior Thorello, my master, Doctor Clement, salutes you, and desires to speak with you, with all speed possible.

THO. No time but now? Well, I'll wait upon his worship, Piso, Cob, I'll seek them out, and set them sentinels till I return. Piso, Cob, Piso.

[EXIT.]

PROS. Musco, this is rare, but how got'st thou this apparel of the Doctor's man?

MUS. Marry sir. My youth would needs bestow the wine on me to hear some martial discourse; where I so marshall'd him, that I made him monstrous drunk, and because too much heat was the cause of his distemper, I stript him stark naked as he lay along asleep, and borrowed his suit to deliver this counterfeit message in, leaving a rusty armour and an old brown bill to watch him till my return: which shall be when I have pawn'd his apparel, and spent the money perhaps.

PROS. Well, thou art a mad knave, Musco, his absence will be a good subject for more mirth: I pray thee return to thy young master Lorenzo, and will him to meet me and Hesperida at the Friary presently: for here, tell him, the house is so stored with jealousy, that there is no room for love to stand upright in: but I'll use such means she shall come thither, and that I think will meet best with his desires: Hie thee, good Musco.

MUS. I go, sir.

[EXIT.]

[ENTER THORELLO, TO HIM PISO.]

THO. Ho, Piso, Cob, where are these villains, trow? Oh, art thou there? Piso, hark thee here: Mark what I say to thee, I must go forth; Be careful of thy promise, keep good watch, Note every gallant and observe him well, That enters in my absence to thy mistress; If she would shew him rooms, the jest is stale, Follow them, Piso, or else hang on him, And let him not go after, mark their looks; Note if she offer but to see his band, Or any other amorous toy about him, But praise his leg, or foot, or if she say, The day is hot, and bid him feel her hand, How hot it is, oh, that's a monstrous thing: Note me all this, sweet Piso; mark their sighs, And if they do but whisper, break them off, I'll bear thee out in it: wilt thou do this? Wilt thou be true, sweet Piso?

PIS. Most true, sir.

THO. Thanks, gentle Piso: where is Cob? now: Cob?

[EXIT THORELLO.]

BIA. He's ever calling for Cob, I wonder how he employs Cob so.

PROS. Indeed, sister, to ask how he employs Cob is a necessary question for you that are his wife, and a thing not very easy for you to be satisfied in: but this I'll assure you, Cob's wife is an excellent bawd indeed, and oftentimes your husband haunts her house, marry, to what end I cannot altogether accuse him, imagine you what you think convenient: but I have known fair hides have foul hearts ere now, I can tell you.

BIA. Never said you truer than that, brother! Piso, fetch your cloke, and go with me, I'll after him presently: I would to Christ I could take him there, i'faith.

[EXEUNT PISO AND BIANCHA.]

PROS. So let them go: this may make sport anon, now, my fair sister Hesperida: ah, that you knew how happy a thing it were to be fair and beautiful!

HES. That toucheth not me, brother.

PROS. That's true: that's even the fault of it, for indeed beauty stands a woman in no stead, unless it procure her touching: but, sister, whether it touch you or no, it touches your beauties, and I am sure they will abide the touch, as they do not, a plague of all ceruse, say I! and it touches me too in part, though not in thee. Well, there's a dear and respected friend of mine, sister, stands very strongly affected towards you, and hath vowed to inflame whole bonfires of zeal in his heart, in honour of your perfections. I have already engaged my promise to bring you where you shall hear him confirm much more than I am able to lay down for him: Signior Lorenzo is the man: what say you, sister; shall I intreat so much favour of you for my friend, as to direct and attend you to his meeting? upon my soul, he loves you extremely, approve it, sweet Hesperida, will you?

HES. Faith, I had very little confidence in mine own constancy, if I durst not meet a man: but, brother Prospero, this motion of yours savours of an old knight adventurer's servant, methinks.

PROS. What's that, sister?

HES. Marry, of the squire.

PROS. No matter, Hesperida, if it did, I would be such an one for my friend, but say, will you go?

HES. Brother, I will, and bless my happy stars.

[ENTER CLEMENT AND THORELLO.]

CLEM. Why, what villainy is this? my man gone on a false message, and run away when he has done, why, what trick is there in it, trow! 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5.

THO. How! is my wife gone forth, where is she, sister!

HES. She's gone abroad with Piso.

THO. Abroad with Piso? Oh, that villain dors me, He hath discovered all unto my wife, Beast that I was to trust him: whither went she?

HES. I know not, sir.

PROS. I'll tell you, brother, whither I suspect she's gone.

THO. Whither, for God's sake!

PROS. To Cob's house, I believe: but keep my counsel.

THO. I will, I will, to Cob's house! doth she haunt Cob's? She's gone a purpose now to cuckold me, With that lewd rascal, who to win her favour, Hath told her all.

[EXIT.]

CLEM. But did your mistress see my man bring him a message?

PROS. That we did, master Doctor.

CLEM. And whither went the knave?

PROS. To the tavern, I think, sir.

CLEM. What, did Thorello give him any thing to spend for the message he brought him? if he did I should commend my man's wit exceedingly if he would make himself drunk with the joy of it, farewell, lady, keep good rule, you two, I beseech you now: by God's —; marry, my man makes me laugh.

[EXIT.]

PROS. What a mad doctor is this! come, sister, let's away.

[EXEUNT.]

[ENTER MATHEO AND BOBADILLA.]

MAT. I wonder, Signior, what they will say of my going away, ha?

BOB. Why, what should they say? but as of a discreet gentleman. Quick, wary, respectful of natures, Fair lineaments, and that's all.

MAT. Why so, but what can they say of your beating?

BOB. A rude part, a touch with soft wood, a kind of gross battery used, laid on strongly: borne most patiently, and that's all.

MAT. Ay, but would any man have offered it in Venice?

BOB. Tut, I assure you no: you shall have there your Nobilis, your Gentilezza, come in bravely upon your reverse, stand you close, stand you firm, stand you fair, save your retricato with his left leg, come to the assaulto with the right, thrust with brave steel, defy your base wood. But wherefore do I awake this remembrance? I was bewitch'd, by Jesu: but I will be revenged.

MAT. Do you hear, is't not best to get a warrant and have him arrested, and brought before Doctor Clement?

BOB. It were not amiss, would we had it.

[ENTER MUSCO.]

MAT. Why, here comes his man, let's speak to him.

BOB. Agreed, do you speak.

MAT. God save you, sir.

MUS. With all my heart, sir.

MAT. Sir, there is one Giuliano hath abused this gentleman and me, and we determine to make our amends by law, now if you would do us the favour to procure us a warrant, for his arrest, of your master, you shall be well considered, I assure i'faith, sir.

MUS. Sir, you know my service is my living, such favours as these gotten of my master is his only preferment, and therefore you must consider me as I may make benefit of my place.

MAT. How is that?

MUS. Faith, sir, the thing is extraordinary, and the gentleman may be of great account: yet be what he will, if you will lay me down five crowns in my hand, you shall have it, otherwise not.

MAT. How shall we do, Signior? you have no money.

BOB. Not a cross, by Jesu.

MAT. Nor I, before God, but two pence, left of my two shillings in the morning for wine and cakes, let's give him some pawn.

BOB. Pawn? we have none to the value of his demand.

MAT. O Lord, man, I'll pawn this jewel in my ear, and you may pawn your silk stockings, and pull up your boots, they will ne'er be mist.

BOB. Well, an there be no remedy, I'll step aside and put them off.

MAT. Do you hear, sir? we have no store of money at this time, but you shall have good pawns, look you, sir, this jewel and this gentleman's silk stockings, because we would have it dispatch'd ere we went to our chambers.

MUS. I am content, sir, I will get you the warrant presently. What's his name, say you, Giuliano?

MAT. Ay, ay, Giuliano.

MUS. What manner of man is he?

MAT. A tall, big man, sir; he goes in a cloak most commonly of silk russet, laid about with russet lace.

MUS. 'Tis very good, sir.

MAT. Here, sir, here's my jewel.

BOB. And here are stockings.

MUS. Well, gentlemen, I'll procure this warrant presently, and appoint you a varlet of the city to serve it, if you'll be upon the Realto anon, the varlet shall meet you there.

MAT. Very good, sir, I wish no better.

[EXEUNT BOBA. AND MAT.]

MUS. This is rare, now will I go pawn this cloak of the doctor's man's at the broker's for a varlet's suit, and be the varlet myself, and get either more pawns, or more money of Giuliano for my arrest.

[EXIT.]



ACT V.

SCENE I.

ENTER LORENZO SENIOR.

LOR. SE. Oh, here it is, I am glad I have found it now. Ho! who is within here?

[ENTER TIB.]

TIB. I am within, sir, what's your pleasure?

LOR. SE. To know who is within besides yourself.

TIB. Why, sir, you are no constable, I hope?

LOR. SE. Oh, fear you the constable? then I doubt not, You have some guests within deserve that fear; I'll fetch him straight.

TIB. O' God's name, sir.

LOR. SE. Go to, tell me is not the young Lorenzo here?

TIB. Young Lorenzo, I saw none such, sir, of mine honesty.

LOR. SE. Go to, your honesty flies too lightly from you: There's no way but fetch the constable.

TIB. The constable, the man is mad, I think. [CLAPS TO THE DOOR.]

[ENTER PISO AND BIANCHA.]

PISO. Ho, who keeps house here?

LOR. SE. Oh, this is the female copes-mate of my son. Now shall I meet him straight.

BIA. Knock, Piso, pray thee.

PIS. Ho, good wife.

[ENTER TIB.]

TIB. Why, what's the matter with you?

BIA. Why, woman, grieves it you to ope your door? Belike you get something to keep it shut.

TIB. What mean these questions, pray ye?

BIA. So strange you make it! is not Thorello, my tried husband, here?

LOR. SE. Her husband?

TIB. I hope he needs not be tried here.

BIA. No, dame: he doth it not for need but pleasure.

TIB. Neither for need nor pleasure is he here.

LOR. SE. This is but a device to balk me withal; Soft, who's this?

[ENTER THORELLO.]

BIA. Oh, sir, have I forestall'd your honest market? Found your close walks? you stand amazed now, do you? I'faith (I am glad) I have smoked you yet at last; What's your jewel, trow? In: come, let's see her; Fetch forth your housewife, dame; if she be fairer In any honest judgment than myself, I'll be content with it: but she is change, She feeds you fat; she soothes your appetite, And you are well: your wife, an honest woman, Is meat twice sod to you, sir; Oh, you treachour.

LOR. SE. She cannot counterfeit this palpably.

THO. Out on thee, more than strumpet's impudency, Steal'st thou thus to thy haunts? and have I taken Thy bawd and thee, and thy companion, This hoary-headed letcher, this old goat, Close at your villainy, and would'st thou 'scuse it, With this stale harlot's jest, accusing me? Oh, old incontinent, dost thou not shame, When all thy powers in chastity are spent, To have a mind so hot? and to entice And feed the enticements of a lustful woman?

BIA. Out, I defy thee, I, dissembling wretch?

THO. Defy me, strumpet? ask thy pander here, Can he deny it? or that wicked elder.

LOR. SE. Why, hear you, Signior?

THO. Tut, tut, never speak, Thy guilty conscience will discover thee.

LOR. SE. What lunacy is this that haunts this man?

[ENTER GIU.]

GIU. Oh, sister, did you see my cloak?

BIA. Not I, I see none.

GIU. God's life, I have lost it then, saw you Hesperida?

THO. Hesperida? Is she not at home?

GIU. No, she is gone abroad, and nobody can tell me of it at home.

[EXIT.]

THO. O heaven! abroad? what light! a harlot too! Why? why? hark you, hath she, hath she not a brother? A brother's house to keep, to look unto? But she must fling abroad, my wife hath spoil'd her, She takes right after her, she does, she does, Well, you goody bawd and — [ENTER COB.] That make your husband such a hoddy-doddy; And you, young apple squire, and old cuckold-maker, I'll have you every one before the Doctor, Nay, you shall answer it, I charge you go.

LOR. SE. Marry, with all my heart, I'll go willingly: how have I wrong'd myself in coming here.

BIA. Go with thee? I'll go with thee to thy shame, I warrant thee.

COB. Why, what's the matter? what's here to do?

THO. What, Cob, art thou here? oh, I am abused, And in thy house, was never man so wrong'd.

COB. 'Slid, in my house? who wrong'd you in my house?

THO. Marry, young lust in old, and old in young here, Thy wife's their bawd, here have I taken them.

COB. Do you hear? did I not charge you keep your doors shut here, and do you let them lie open for all comers, do you scratch?

[COB BEATS HIS WIFE.]

LOR. SE. Friend, have patience; if she have done wrong in this, let her answer it afore the Magistrate.

COB. Ay, come, you shall go afore the Doctor.

TIB. Nay, I will go, I'll see an you may be allowed to beat your poor wife thus at every cuckoldly knave's pleasure, the devil and the pox take you all for me: why do you not go now?

THO. A bitter quean, come, we'll have you tamed.

[EXEUNT.]

[ENTER MUSCO ALONE.]

MUS. Well, of all my disguises yet, now am I most like myself, being in this varlet's suit, a man of my present profession never counterfeits till he lay hold upon a debtor, and says he rests him, for then he brings him to all manner of unrest. A kind of little kings we are, bearing the diminutive of a mace, made like a young artichoke, that always carries pepper and salt in itself, well, I know not what danger I undergo by this exploit, pray God I come well off.

[ENTER BOBADILLA AND MATHEO.]

MAT. See, I think yonder is the varlet.

BOB. Let's go in quest of him.

MAT. God save you, friend, are not you here by the appointment of Doctor Clement's man?

MUS. Yes, an't please you, sir; he told me two gentlemen had will'd him to procure an arrest upon one Signior Giuliano by a warrant from his master, which I have about me.

MAT. It is honestly done of you both; and see where he comes you must arrest; upon him, for God's sake, before he be 'ware.

BOB. Bear back, Matheo!

[ENTER STEPHANO.]

MUS. Signior Giuliano, I arrest you, sir, in the Duke's name.

STEP. Signior Giuliano! am I Signior Giuliano? I am one Signior Stephano, I tell you, and you do not well, by God's lid, to arrest me, I tell you truly; I am not in your master's books, I would you should well know; ay, and a plague of God on you for making me afraid thus.

MUS. Why, how are you deceived, gentlemen?

BOB. He wears such a cloak, and that deceived us, But see, here a comes, officer, this is he.

[ENTER GIULIANO.]

GIU. Why, how now, signior gull: are you a turn'd filcher of late? come, deliver my cloak.

STEP. Your cloak, sir? I bought it even now in the market.

MUS. Signior Giuliano, I must arrest you, sir.

GIU. Arrest me, sir, at whose suit?

MUS. At these two gentlemen's.

GIU. I obey thee, varlet; but for these villains —

MUS. Keep the peace, I charge you, sir, in the Duke's name, sir.

GIU. What's the matter, varlet?

MUS. You must go before master Doctor Clement, sir, to answer what these gentlemen will object against you, hark you, sir, I will use you kindly.

MAT. We'll be even with you, sir, come, Signior Bobadilla, we'll go before and prepare the Doctor: varlet, look to him.

[EXEUNT BOBADILLA AND MATHEO.]

BOB. The varlet is a tall man, by Jesu.

GIU. Away, you rascals, Signior, I shall have my cloak.

STEP. Your cloak? I say once again, I bought it, and I'll keep it.

GIU. You will keep it?

STEP. Ay, that I will.

GIU. Varlet, stay, here's thy fee, arrest him.

MUS. Signior Stephano, I arrest you.

STEP. Arrest me! there, take your cloak: I'll none of it.

GIU. Nay, that shall not serve your turn, varlet, bring him away, I'll go with thee now to the Doctor's, and carry him along.

STEP. Why, is not here your cloak? what would you have?

GIU. I care not for that.

MUS. I pray you, sir.

GIU. Never talk of it; I will have him answer it.

MUS. Well, sir, then I'll leave you, I'll take this gentleman's word for his appearance, as I have done yours.

GIU. Tut, I'll have no words taken, bring him along to answer it.

MUS. Good sir, I pity the gentleman's case, here's your money again.

GIU. God's bread, tell not me of my money, bring him away, I say.

MUS. I warrant you, he will go with you of himself.

GIU. Yet more ado?

MUS. I have made a fair mash of it.

STEP. Must I go?

[EXEUNT.]

ENTER DOCTOR CLEMENT, THORELLO, LORENZO SENIOR, BIANCHA, PISO, TIB, A SERVANT OR TWO OF THE DOCTOR'S.

CLEM. Nay, but stay, stay, give me leave; my chair, sirrah; you, Signior Lorenzo, say you went thither to meet your son.

LOR. SE. Ay, sir.

CLEM. But who directed you thither?

LOR. SE. That did my man, sir.

CLEM. Where is he?

LOR. SE. Nay, I know not now, I left him with your clerk, And appointed him to stay here for me.

CLEM. About what time was this?

LOR. SE. Marry, between one and two, as I take it.

CLEM. So, what time came my man with the message to you, Signior Thorello?

THO. After two, sir.

CLEM. Very good, but, lady, how that you were at Cob's, ha?

BIA. An't please you, sir, I'll tell you: my brother Prospero told me that Cob's house was a suspected place.