Every Man Out Of His Humour
Ben Jonson

Part 3 out of 5

4 RUST. How comes this?

2 RUST. One has executed himself, contrary to order of law, and by my
consent he shall answer it.

5 RUST. Would he were in case to answer it!

1 RUST. Stand by, he recovers, give him breath.


5 RUST. Mass, 'twas well you went the footway, neighbour.

1 RUST. Ay, an I had not cut the halter --

SORD. How! cut the halter! ah me, I am undone, I am undone!

2 RUST. Marry, if you had not been undone, you had been hang'd. I can
tell you.

SORD. You thread-bare, horse-bread-eating rascals, if you would needs have
been meddling, could you not have untied it, but you must cut it; and in
the midst too! ah me!

1 RUST. Out on me, 'tis the caterpillar Sordido! how curst are the poor,
that the viper was blest with this good fortune!

2 RUST. Nay, how accurst art thou, that art cause to the curse of the poor?

3 RUST. Ay, and to save so wretched a caitiff?

4 RUST. Curst be thy fingers that loos'd him!

2 RUST. Some desperate fury possess thee, that thou may'st hang thyself too!

5 RUST. Never may'st thou be saved, that saved so damn'd a monster!

SORD. What curses breathe these men! how have my deeds
Made my looks differ from another man's,
That they should thus detest and loath my life!
Out on my wretched humour! it is that
Makes me thus monstrous in true humane eyes.
Pardon me, gentle friends, I'll make fair 'mends
For my foul errors past, and twenty-fold
Restore to all men, what with wrong I robb'd them:
My barns and garners shall stand open still
To all the poor that come, and my best grain
Be made alms-bread, to feed half-famish'd mouths.
Though hitherto amongst you I have lived,
Like an unsavoury muck-hill to myself,
Yet now my gather'd heaps being spread abroad,
Shall turn to better and more fruitful uses.
Bless then this man, curse him no more for the saving
My life and soul together. O how deeply
The bitter curses of the poor do pierce!
I am by wonder changed; come in with me
And witness my repentance: now I prove,
No life is blest, that is not graced with love.

2 RUST. O miracle! see when a man has grace!

3 RUST. Had it not been pity so good a man should have been cast away?

2 RUST. Well, I'll get our clerk put his conversion in the 'Acts and

4 RUST. Do, for I warrant him he's a martyr.

2 RUST. O God, how he wept, if you mark'd it! did you see how the tears

5 RUST. Yes, believe me, like master vicar's bowls upon the green, for all
the world.

3 RUST. O neighbour, God's blessing o' your heart, neighbour, 'twas a good
grateful deed.

COR. How now, Mitis! what's that you consider so seriously?

MIT. Troth, that which doth essentially please me, the warping condition
of this green and soggy multitude; but in good faith, signior, your author
hath largely outstript my expectation in this scene, I will liberally
confess it. For when I saw Sordido so desperately intended, I thought I
had had a hand of him, then.

COR. What! you supposed he should have hung himself indeed?

MIT. I did, and had framed my objection to it ready, which may yet be
very fitly urged, and with some necessity; for though his purposed violence
lost the effect, and extended not to death, yet the intent and horror of
the object was more than the nature of a comedy will in any sort admit.

COR. Ay! what think you of Plautus, in his comedy called 'Cistellaria'?
there, where he brings in Alcesimarchus with a drum sword ready to kill
himself, and as he is e'en fixing his breast upon it, to be restrained from
his resolved outrage, by Silenium and the bawd? Is not his authority of
power to give our scene approbation?

MIT. Sir, I have this only evasion left me, to say, I think it be so
indeed; your memory is happier than mine: but I wonder, what engine he
will use to bring the rest out of their humours!

COR. That will appear anon, never pre-occupy your imagination withal. Let
your mind keep company with the scene still, which now removes itself from
the country to the court. Here comes Macilente, and signior Brisk freshly
suited; lose not yourself, for now the epitasis, or busy part of our
subject, is an act.



FAST. Well, now signior Macilente, you are not only welcome to the court,
but also to my mistress's withdrawing chamber -- Boy, get me some tobacco.
I'll but go in, and shew I am here, and come to you presently, sir.

MACI. What's that he said? by heaven, I mark'd him not:
My thoughts and I were of another world.
I was admiring mine own outside here,
To think what privilege and palm it bears
Here, in the court! be a man ne'er so vile,
In wit, in judgment, manners, or what else;
If he can purchase but a silken cover,
He shall not only pass, but pass regarded:
Whereas, let him be poor, and meanly clad,
Though ne'er so richly parted, you shall have
A fellow that knows nothing but his beef,
Or how to rince his clammy guts in beer,
Will take him by the shoulders, or the throat,
And kick him down the stairs. Such is the state
Of virtue in bad clothes! -- ha, ha, ha, ha!
That raiment should be in such high request!
How long should I be, ere I should put off
To the lord chancellor's tomb, or the shrives' poste?
By heav'n, I think, a thousand, thousand year.
His gravity, his wisdom, and his faith
To my dread sovereign, graces that survive him,
These I could well endure to reverence,
But not his tomb; no more than I'd commend
The chapel organ for the gilt without,
Or this base-viol, for the varnish'd face.

FAST. I fear I have made you stay somewhat long, sir; but is my tobacco
ready, boy?

CIN. Ay, sir.

FAST. Give me; my mistress is upon coming, you shall see her presently,
sir. [PUFFS.] You'll say you never accosted a more piercing wit. -- This
tobacco is not dried, boy, or else the pipe is defective. -- Oh, your wits
of Italy are nothing comparable to her: her brain's a very quiver of
jests, and she does dart them abroad with that sweet, loose, and judicial
aim, that you would -- here she comes, sir.

MACI. 'Twas time, his invention had been bogged else.

SAV. [WITHIN.] Give me my fan there.

MACI. How now, monsieur Brisk?

FAST. A kind of affectionate reverence strikes me with a cold shivering,

MACI. I like such tempers well, as stand before their mistresses with fear
and trembling; and before their Maker, like impudent mountains!

FAST. By this hand, I'd spend twenty pound my vaulting horse stood here
now, she might see do but one trick.

MACI. Why, does she love activity?

CIN. Or, if you had but your long stockings on, to be dancing a galliard
as she comes by.

FAST. Ay, either. O, these stirring humours make ladies mad with desire;
she comes. My good genius embolden me: boy, the pipe quickly.

MACI. What! will he give her music?

FAST. A second good morrow to my fair mistress.

SAV. Fair servant, I'll thank you a day hence, when the date of your
salutation comes forth.

FAST. How like you that answer? is't not admirable?

MACI. I were a simple courtier, if I could not admire trifles, sir.

shall [PUFFS] -- be prepared to give you thanks for those thanks, and --
study more officious, and obsequious regards -- to your fair beauties. --
Mend the pipe, boy.

MACI. I never knew tobacco taken as a parenthesis before.

FAST. 'Fore God, sweet lady, believe it, I do honour the meanest rush in
this chamber for your love.

SAV. Ay, you need not tell me that, sir; I do think you do prize a rush
before my love.

MACI. Is this the wonder of nations!

FAST. O, by this air, pardon me, I said 'for' your love, by this light:
but it is the accustomed sharpness of your ingenuity, sweet mistress, to
[TAKES DOWNTHE VIOL, AND PLAYS] -- mass, your viol's new strung, methinks.

MACI. Ingenuity! I see his ignorance will not suffer him to slander her,
which he had done notably, if he had said wit for ingenuity, as he meant it.

FAST. By the soul of music, lady -- HUM, HUM.

SAV. Would we might hear it once.

FAST. I do more adore and admire your -- HUM, HUM -- predominant
perfections, than -- HUM, HUM -- ever I shall have power and faculty to
express -- HUM.

SAV. Upon the viol de gambo, you mean?

FAST. It's miserably out of tune, by this hand.

SAV. Nay, rather by the fingers.

MACI. It makes good harmony with her wit.

FAST. Sweet lady, tune it. [SAVIOLINA TUNES THE VIOL.] -- Boy, some tobacco.

MACI. Tobacco again! he does court his mistress with very exceeding good

FAST. Signior Macilente, you take none, sir?

MACI. No, unless I had a mistress, signior, it were a great indecorum for
me to take tobacco.

FAST. How like you her wit?

MACI. Her ingenuity is excellent, sir.

FAST. You see the subject of her sweet fingers there -- Oh, she tickles it
so, that -- She makes it laugh most divinely; -- I'll tell you a good jest
now, and yourself shall say it's a good one: I have wished myself to be
that instrument, I think, a thousand times, and not so few, by heaven! --

MACI. Not unlike, sir; but how? to be cased up and hung by on the wall?

FAST. O, no, sir, to be in use, I assure you; as your judicious eyes may
testify. --

SAV. Here, servant, if you will play, come.

FAST. Instantly, sweet lady. -- In good faith, here's most divine tobacco!

SAV. Nay, I cannot stay to dance after your pipe.

FAST. Good! Nay, dear lady, stay; by this sweet smoke, I think your wit
be all fire. --

MACI. And he's the salamander belongs to it.

SAV. Is your tobacco perfumed, servant, that you swear by the sweet smoke?

FAST. Still more excellent! Before heaven, and these bright lights, I
think -- you are made of ingenuity, I --

MACI. True, as your discourse is. O abominable!

FAST. Will your ladyship take any?

SAV. O peace, I pray you; I love not the breath of a woodcock's head.

FAST. Meaning my head, lady?

SAV. Not altogether so, sir; but, as it were fatal to their follies that
think to grace themselves with taking tobacco, when they want better
entertainment, you see your pipe bears the true form of a woodcock's head.

FAST. O admirable simile!

AV. 'Tis best leaving of you in admiration, sir.

MACI. Are these the admired lady-wits, that having so good a plain song,
can run no better division upon it? All her jests are of the stamp March
was fifteen years ago. Is this the comet, monsieur Fastidious, that your
gallants wonder at so?

FAST. Heart of a gentleman, to neglect me afore the presence thus! Sweet
sir, I beseech you be silent in my disgrace. By the muses, I was never in
so vile a humour in my life, and her wit was at the flood too! Report it
not for a million, good sir: let me be so far endeared to your love.

MIT. What follows next, signior Cordatus? this gallant's humour is almost
spent; methinks it ebbs apace, with this contrary breath of his mistress.

COR. O, but it will flow again for all this, till there come a general
drought of humour among our actors, and then I fear not but his will fall
as low as any. See who presents himself here!

MIT. What, in the old case?

COR. Ay, faith, which makes it the more pitiful; you understand where the
scene is?




FAL. Why are you so melancholy, brother?

FUNG. I am not melancholy, I thank you, sister.

FAL. Why are you not merry then? there are but two of us in all the
world, and if we should not be comforts one to another, God help us!

FUNG. Faith, I cannot tell, sister; but if a man had any true melancholy
in him, it would make him melancholy to see his yeomanly father cut his
neighbours' throats, to make his son a gentleman; and yet, when he has cut
them, he will see his son's throat cut too, ere he make him a true
gentleman indeed, before death cut his own throat. I must be the first
head of our house, and yet he will not give me the head till I be made so.
Is any man termed a gentleman, that is not always in the fashion? I would
know but that.

FAL. If you be melancholy for that, brother, I think I have as much cause
to be melancholy as any one: for I'll be sworn, I live as little in the
fashion as any woman in London. By the faith of a gentlewoman, beast that
I am to say it! I have not one friend in the world besides my husband.
When saw you master Fastidious Brisk, brother?

FUNG. But a while since, sister, I think: I know not well in truth. By
this hand I could fight with all my heart, methinks.

FAL. Nay, good brother, be not resolute.

FUNG. I sent him a letter, and he writes me no answer neither.

FAL. Oh, sweet Fastidious Brisk! O fine courtier! thou are he makest me
sigh, and say, how blessed is that woman that hath a courtier to her
husband, and how miserable a dame she is, that hath neither husband, nor
friend in the court! O sweet Fastidious! O fine courtier! How comely he
bows him in his court'sy! how full he hits a woman between the lips when
he kisses! how upright he sits at the table! how daintily he carves! how
sweetly he talks, and tells news of this lord and of that lady! how
cleanly he wipes his spoon at every spoonful of any whitemeat he eats! and
what a neat case of pick-tooths he carries about him still! O sweet
Fastidious! O fine courtier!

DELI. See, yonder she is, gentlemen. Now, as ever you'll bear the name of
musicians, touch your instruments sweetly; she has a delicate ear, I tell
you: play not a false note, I beseech you.

MUSI. Fear not, signior Deliro.

DELI. O, begin, begin, some sprightly thing: lord, how my imagination
labours with the success of it! [THEY STRIKE UP A LIVELY TUNE.] Well
said, good i'faith! Heaven grant it please her. I'll not be seen, for
then she'll be sure to dislike it.

FAL. Hey -- da! this is excellent! I'll lay my life this is my husband's
dotage. I thought so; nay, never play bo-peep with me; I know you do
nothing but study how to anger me, sir.

DELI. [COMING FORWARD.] Anger thee, sweet wife! why, didst thou not send
for musicians at supper last night thyself?

FAL. To supper, sir! now, come up to supper, I beseech you: as though
there were no difference between supper-time, when folks should be merry,
and this time when they should be melancholy. I would never take upon me
to take a wife, if I had no more judgment to please her.

DELI. Be pleased, sweet wife, and they shall have done; and would to fate
my life were done, if I can never please thee!

MACI. Save you lady; where is master Deliro?

DELI. Here, master Macilente: you are welcome from court, sir; no doubt
you have been graced exceedingly of master Brisk's mistress, and the rest
of the ladies for his sake.

MACI. Alas, the poor fantastic! he's scarce known
To any lady there; and those that know him,
Know him the simplest man of all they know:
Deride, and play upon his amorous humours,
Though he but apishly doth imitate
The gallant'st courtiers, kissing ladies' pumps,
Holding the cloth for them, praising their wits,
And servilely observing every one
May do them pleasure: fearful to be seen
With any man, though he be ne'er so worthy,
That's not in grace with some that are the greatest.
Thus courtiers do, and these he counterfeits,
But sets no such a sightly carriage
Upon their vanities, as they themselves;
And therefore they despise him: for indeed
He's like the zany to a tumbler,
That tries tricks after him, to make men laugh.

FAL. Here's an unthankful spiteful wretch! the good gentleman vouchsafed
to make him his companion, because my husband put him into a few rags, and
now see how the unrude rascal backbites him!

DELI. Is he no more graced amongst them then, say you?

MACI. Faith, like a pawn at chess: fills up a room, that's all.

FAL. O monster of men! can the earth bear such an envious caitiff?

DELI. Well, I repent me I ever credited him so much: but now I see what
he is, and that his masking vizor is off, I'll forbear him no longer. All
his lands are mortgaged to me, and forfeited; besides, I have bonds of his
in my hand, for the receipt of now fifty pounds now a hundred, now two
hundred; still, as he has had a fan but wagged at him, he would be in a new
suit. Well, I'll salute him by a serjeant, the next time I see him
i'faith, I'll suit him.

MACI. Why, you may soon see him sir, for he is to meet signior Puntarvolo
at a notary's by the Exchange, presently; where he meant to take up, upon

FAL. Now, out upon thee, Judas! canst thou not be content to backbite thy
friend, but thou must betray him! Wilt thou seek the undoing of any man?
and of such a man too? and will you, sir, get your living by the counsel
of traitors?

DELI. Dear wife, have patience.

FAL. The house will fall, the ground will open and swallow us: I'll not
bide here for all the gold and silver in heaven.

DELI. O, good Macilente, let's follow and appease her, or the peace of my
life is at an end.

MACI. Now pease, and not peace, feed that life, whose head hangs so
heavily over a woman's manger!


FAL. Help me, brother! Ods body, an you come here I'll do myself a mischief.

DELI. [WITHIN.] Nay, hear me, sweet wife; unless thou wilt have me go, I
will not go.

FAL. Tut, you shall never have that vantage of me, to say, you are undone
by me. I'll not bid you stay, I. Brother, sweet brother, here's four
angels, I'll give you towards your suit: for the love of gentry, and as
ever you came of Christian creature, make haste to the water side, (you
know where master Fastidious uses to land,) and give him warning of my
husband's malicious intent; and tell him of that lean rascal's treachery.
O heavens, how my flesh rises at him! Nay, sweet brother, make haste: you
may say, I would have writ to him, but that the necessity of the time would
not permit. He cannot choose but take it extraordinarily from me: and
commend me to him, good brother; say, I sent you.

FUNG. Let me see, these four angels, and then forty shillings more I can
borrow on my gown in Fetter Lane. -- Well, I will go presently, say on my
suit, pay as much money as I have, and swear myself into credit with my
tailor for the rest.



DELI. O, on my soul you wrong her, Macilente. Though she be froward, yet
I know she is honest.

MACI. Well, then have I no judgment. Would any woman, but one that were
wild in her affections, have broke out into that immodest and violent
passion against her husband? or is't possible --

DELI. If you love me, forbear; all the arguments i' the world shall never
wrest my heart to believe it.

COR. How like you the deciphering of his dotage?

MIT. O, strangely: an of the other's envy too, that labours so seriously
to set debate betwixt a man and his wife. Stay, here comes the knight

COR. Ay, and his scrivener with him.



PUNT. I wonder monsieur Fastidious comes not! But, notary, if thou please
to draw the indentures the while, I will give thee thy instructions.

NOT. With all my heart, sir; and I'll fall in hand with them presently.

PUNT. Well then, first the sum is to be understood.

NOT. [WRITES.] Good, sir.

PUNT. Next, our several appellations, and character of my dog and cat,
must be known. Shew him the cat, sirrah.

NOT. So, sir.

PUNT. Then, that the intended bound is the Turk's court in Constantinople;
the time limited for our return, a year; and that if either of us miscarry,
the whole venture is lost. These are general, conceiv'st thou? or if
either of us turn Turk.

NOT. Ay, sir.

PUNT. Now, for particulars: that I may make my travels by sea or land, to
my best liking; and that hiring a coach for myself, it shall be lawful for
my dog or cat, or both, to ride with me in the said coach.

NOT. Very good, sir.

PUNT. That I may choose to give my dog or cat, fish, for fear of bones; or
any other nutriment that, by the judgment of the most authentical
physicians where I travel, shall be thought dangerous.

NOT. Well, sir.

PUNT. That, after the receipt of his money, he shall neither, in his own
person, nor any other, either by direct or indirect means, as magic,
witchcraft, or other such exotic arts, attempt, practise, or complot any
thing to the prejudice of me, my dog, or my cat: neither shall I use the
help of any such sorceries or enchantments, as unctions to make our skins
impenetrable, or to travel invisible by virtue of a powder, or a ring, or
to hang any three-forked charm about my dog's neck, secretly conveyed into
his collar; (understand you?) but that all be performed sincerely, without
fraud or imposture.

NOT. So, sir.

PUNT. That, for testimony of the performance, myself am to bring thence a
Turk's mustachio, my dog a Grecian hare's lips, and my cat the train or
tail of a Thracian rat.

NOT. [WRITES.] 'Tis done, sir.

PUNT. 'Tis said, sir; not done, sir. But forward; that, upon my return,
and landing on the Tower-wharf, with the aforesaid testimony, I am to
receive five for one, according to the proportion of the sums put forth.

NOT. Well, sir.

PUNT. Provided, that if before our departure, or setting forth, either
myself or these be visited with sickness, or any other casual event, so
that the whole course of the adventure be hindered thereby, that then he is
to return, and I am to receive the prenominated proportion upon fair and
equal terms.

NOT. Very good, sir; is this all?

PUNT. It is all, sir; and dispatch them, good notary.

NOT. As fast as is possible, sir.

PUNT. O Carlo! welcome: saw you monsieur Brisk?

CAR. Not I: did he appoint you to meet here?

PUNT. Ay, and I muse he should be so tardy; he is to take an hundred
pounds of me in venture, if he maintain his promise.

CAR. Is his hour past?

PUNT. Not yet, but it comes on apace.

CAR. Tut, be not jealous of him; he will sooner break all the
commandments, than his hour; upon my life, in such a case trust him.

PUNT. Methinks, Carlo, you look very smooth, ha!

CAR. Why, I came but now from a hot-house; I must needs look smooth.

PUNT. From a hot-house!

CAR. Ay, do you make a wonder on't? why, it is your only physic. Let a
man sweat once a week in a hot-house, and be well rubb'd, and froted, with
a good plump juicy wench, and sweet linen, he shall ne'er have the pox.

PUNT. What, the French pox?

CAR. The French pox! out pox: we have them in as good a form as they,
man; what?

PUNT. Let me perish, but thou art a salt one! was your new-created
gallant there with you, Sogliardo?

CAR. O porpoise! hang him, no: he's a leiger at Horn's ordinary, yonder;
his villainous Ganymede and he have been droning a tobacco-pipe there ever
since yesterday noon.

PUNT. Who? signior Tripartite, that would give my dog the whiffe?

CAR. Ay, he. They have hired a chamber and all, private, to practise in,
for the making of the patoun, the receipt reciprocal, and a number of other
mysteries not yet extant. I brought some dozen or twenty gallants this
morning to view them, as you'd do a piece of perspective, in at a key-hole;
and there we might see Sogliardo sit in a chair, holding his snout up like
a sow under an apple-tree, while the other open'd his nostrils with a
poking-stick, to give the smoke a more free delivery. They had spit some
three or fourscore ounces between 'em, afore we came away.

PUNT. How! spit three or fourscore ounces?

CAR. Ay, and preserv'd it in porrengers, as a barber does his blood, when
he opens a vein.

PUNT. Out, pagan! how dost thou open the vein of thy friend?

CAR. Friend! is there any such foolish thing in the world, ha? 'slid I
never relished it yet.

PUNT. Thy humour is the more dangerous.

CAR. No, not a whit, signior. Tut, a man must keep time in all; I can oil
my tongue when I meet him next, and look with a good sleek forehead; 'twill
take away all soil of suspicion, and that's enough: what Lynceus can see
my heart? Pish, the title of a friend! it's a vain, idle thing, only
venerable among fools; you shall not have one that has any opinion of wit
affect it.

DELI. Save you, good sir Puntarvolo.

PUNT. Signior Deliro! welcome.

DELI. Pray you, sir, did you see master Fastidious Brisk? I heard he was
to meet your worship here.

PUNT. You heard no figment, sir; I do expect him at every pulse of my watch.

DELI. In good time, sir.

CAR. There's a fellow now looks like one of the patricians of Sparta;
marry, his wit's after ten i' the hundred: a good bloodhound, a
close-mouthed dog, he follows the scent well; marry, he's at fault now,

PUNT. I should wonder at that creature is free from the danger of thy tongue.

CAR. O, I cannot abide these limbs of satin, or rather Satan indeed, that
will walk, like the children of darkness, all day in a melancholy shop,
with their pockets full of blanks, ready to swallow up as many poor
unthrifts as come within the verge.

PUNT. So! and what hast thou for him that is with him, now?

CAR. O, d--n me! immortality! I'll not meddle with him; the pure element
of fire, all spirit, extraction.

PUNT. How, Carlo! ha, what is he, man?

CAR. A scholar, Macilente; do you not know him? a rank, raw-boned
anatomy, he walks up and down like a charged musket, no man dares encounter
him: that's his rest there.

PUNT. His rest! why, has he a forked head?

CAR. Pardon me, that's to be suspended; you are too quick, too apprehensive.

DELI. Troth, now I think on't, I'll defer it till some other time.

MACI. Not by any means, signior, you shall not lose this opportunity, he
will be here presently now.

DELI. Yes, faith, Macilente, 'tis best. For, look you, sir, I shall so
exceedingly offend my wife in't, that --

MACI. Your wife! now for shame lose these thoughts, and become the master
of your own spirits. Should I, if I had a wife, suffer myself to be thus
passionately carried to and fro with the stream of her humour, and neglect
my deepest affairs, to serve her affections? 'Slight, I would geld myself

DELI. O, but signior, had you such a wife as mine is, you would --

MACI. Such a wife! Now hate me, sir, if ever I discern'd any wonder in
your wife yet, with all the speculation I have: I have seen some that have
been thought fairer than she, in my time; and I have seen those, have not
been altogether so tall, esteem'd properer women; and I have seen less
noses grow upon sweeter faces, that have done very well too, in my
judgment. But in good faith, signior, for all this, the gentlewoman is a
good, pretty, proud, hard-favour'd thing, marry not so peerlessly to be
doted upon, I must confess: nay, be not angry.

DELI. Well, sir, however you please to forget yourself, I have not
deserv'd to be thus played upon; but henceforth, pray you forbear my house,
for I can but faintly endure the savour of his breath, at my table, that
shall thus jade me for my courtesies.

MACI. Nay, then, signior, let me tell you, your wife is no proper woman,
and by my life, I suspect her honesty, that's more, which you may likewise
suspect, if you please, do you see? I'll urge you to nothing against your
appetite, but if you please, you may suspect it.

DELI. Good sir.

MACI. Good, sir! now horn upon horn pursue thee, thou blind, egregious

CAR. O, you shall hear him speak like envy. -- Signior Macilente, you saw
monsieur Brisk lately: I heard you were with him at court.

MACI. Ay, Buffone, I was with him.

CAR. And how is he respected there? I know you'll deal ingenuously with
us; is he made much of amongst the sweeter sort of gallants?

MACI. Faith, ay; his civet and his casting-glass
Have helpt him to a place amongst the rest:
And there, his seniors give him good slight looks,
After their garb, smile, and salute in French
With some new compliment.

CAR. What, is this all?

MACI. Why say, that they should shew the frothy fool
Such grace as they pretend comes from the heart,
He had a mighty windfall out of doubt!
Why, all their graces are not to do grace
To virtue or desert; but to ride both
With their gilt spurs quite breathless, from themselves.
'Tis now esteem'd precisianism in wit,
And a disease in nature, to be kind
Toward desert, to love or seek good names.
Who feeds with a good name? who thrives with loving?
Who can provide feast for his own desires,
With serving others? -- ha, ha, ha!
'Tis folly, by our wisest worldlings proved,
If not to gain by love, to be beloved.

CAR. How like you him? is't not a good spiteful slave, ha?

PUNT. Shrewd, shrewd.

CAR. D--n me! I could eat his flesh now; divine sweet villain!

MACI. Nay, prithee leave: What's he there?

CAR. Who? this in the starched beard? it's the dull stiff knight
Puntarvolo, man; he's to travel now presently: he has a good knotty wit;
marry, he carries little on't out of the land with him.

MACI. How then?

CAR. He puts it forth in venture, as he does his money upon the return of
a dog and cat.

MACI. Is this he?

CAR. Ay, this is he; a good tough gentleman: he looks like a shield of
brawn at Shrove-tide, out of date, and ready to take his leave; or a dry
pole of ling upon Easter-eve, that has furnish'd the table all Lent, as he
has done the city this last vacation.

MACI. Come, you'll never leave your stabbing similes: I shall have you
aiming at me with 'em by and by; but --

CAR. O, renounce me then! pure, honest, good devil, I love thee above the
love of women: I could e'en melt in admiration of thee, now. Ods so, look
here, man; Sir Dagonet and his squire!

SOG. Save you, my dear gallantos: nay, come, approach, good cavalier:
prithee, sweet knight, know this gentleman, he's one that it pleases me to
use as my good friend and companion; and therefore do him good offices: I
beseech you, gentles, know him, I know him all over.

PUNT. Sir, for signior Sogliardo's sake, let it suffice, I know you.

SOG. Why, as I am a gentleman, I thank you, knight, and it shall suffice.
Hark you, sir Puntarvolo, you'd little think it; he's as resolute a piece
of flesh as any in the world.

PUNT. Indeed, sir!

SOG. Upon my gentility, sir: Carlo, a word with you; do you see that same
fellow, there?

CAR. What, cavalier Shirt?

SOG. O, you know him; cry you mercy: before me, I think him the tallest
man living within the walls of Europe.

CAR. The walls of Europe! take heed what you say, signior, Europe's a
huge thing within the walls.

SOG. 'Tut, an 'twere as huge again, I'd justify what I speak. 'Slid, he
swagger'd even now in a place where we were -- I never saw a man do it more

CAR. Nay, indeed, swaggering is a good argument of resolution. Do you
hear this, signior?

MACI. Ay, to my grief. O, that such muddy flags,
For every drunken flourish should achieve
The name of manhood, whilst true perfect valour,
Hating to shew itself, goes by despised!
Heart! I do know now, in a fair just cause,
I dare do more than he, a thousand times;
Why should not they take knowledge of this, ha!
And give my worth allowance before his?
Because I cannot swagger. -- Now, the pox
Light on your Pickt-hatch prowess!

SOG. Why, I tell you, sir; he has been the only 'Bid-stand' that ever kept
New-market, Salisbury-plain, Hockley i' the Hole, Gadshill, and all the
high places of any request: he has had his mares and his geldings, he,
have been worth forty, threescore, a hundred pound a horse, would ha'
sprung you over the hedge and ditch like your greyhound: he has done five
hundred robberies in his time, more or less, I assure you.

PUNT. What, and scaped?

SOG. Scaped! i'faith, ay: he has broken the gaol when he has been in
irons and irons; and been out and in again; and out, and in; forty times,
and not so few, he.

MACI. A fit trumpet, to proclaim such a person.

CAR. But can this be possible?

SHIFT. Pardon me, my dear Orestes; causes have their quiddits, and 'tis
ill jesting with bell-ropes.

CAR. How! Pylades and Orestes?

SOG. Ay, he is my Pylades, and I am his Orestes: how like you the conceit?

CAR. O, 'tis an old stale interlude device; no, I'll give you names
myself, look you; he shall be your Judas, and you shall be his elder-tree
to hang on.

MACI. Nay, rather let him be captain Pod, and this his motion: for he
does nothing but shew him.

CAR. Excellent: or thus; you shall be Holden, and he your camel.

SHIFT. You do not mean to ride, gentlemen?

PUNT. Faith, let me end it for you, gallants: you shall be his
Countenance, and he your Resolution.

SOG. Troth, that's pretty: how say you, cavalier, shall it be so?

CAR. Ay, ay, most voices.

SHIFT. Faith, I am easily yielding to any good impressions.

SOG. Then give hands, good Resolution.

CAR. Mass, he cannot say, good Countenance, now, properly, to him again.

PUNT. Yes, by an irony.

MACI. O, sir, the countenance of Resolution should, as he is, be
altogether grim and unpleasant.

FAST. Good hours make music with your mirth, gentlemen, and keep time to
your humours! -- How now, Carlo?

PUNT. Monsieur Brisk? many a long look have I extended for you, sir.

FAST. Good faith, I must crave pardon: I was invited this morning, ere I
was out of my bed, by a bevy of ladies, to a banquet: whence it was almost
one of Hercules's labours for me to come away,
but that the respect of my promise did so prevail with me. I know they'll
take it very ill, especially one, that gave me this bracelet of her hair
but over night, and this pearl another gave me from her forehead, marry she
-- what! are the writings ready?

PUNT. I will send my man to know. Sirrah, go you to the notary's, and
learn if he be ready: leave the dog, sir.

FAST. And how does my rare qualified friend, Sogliardo? Oh, signior
Macilente! by these eyes, I saw you not; I had saluted you sooner else, o'
my troth. I hope, sir, I may presume upon you, that you will not divulge
my late check, or disgrace, indeed, sir.

MACI. You may, sir.

CAR. He knows some notorious jest by this gull, that he hath him so

SOG. Monsieur Fastidious, do you see this fellow there? does he not look
like a clown? would you think there were any thing in him?

FAST. Any thing in him! beshrew me, ay; the fellow hath a good ingenious

SOG. By this element he is as ingenious a tall man as ever swagger'd about
London: he, and I, call Countenance and Resolution; but his name is
cavalier Shift.

PUNT. Cavalier, you knew signior Clog, that was hang'd for the robbery at
Harrow on the hill?

SOG. Knew him, sir! why, 'twas he gave all the directions for the action.

PUNT. How! was it your project, sir?

SHIFT. Pardon me, Countenance, you do me some wrong to make occasions
public, which I imparted to you in private.

SOG. God's will! here are none but friends, Resolution.

SHIFT. That's all one; things of consequence must have their respects;
where, how, and to whom. -- Yes, sir, he shewed himself a true Clog in the
coherence of that affair, sir; for, if he had managed matters as they were
corroborated to him, it had been better for him by a forty or fifty score
of pounds, sir; and he himself might have lived, in despight of fates, to
have fed on woodcocks, with the rest: but it was his heavy fortune to
sink, poor Clog! and therefore talk no more of him.

PUNT. Why, had he more aiders then?

SOG. O lord, sir! ay, there were some present there, that were the Nine
Worthies to him, i'faith.

SHIFT. Ay, sir, I can satisfy you at more convenient conference: but, for
mine own part, I have now reconciled myself to other courses, and profess a
living out of my other qualities.

SOG. Nay, he has left all now, I assure you, and is able to live like a
gentleman, by his qualities. By this dog, he has the most rare gift in
tobacco that ever you knew.

CAR. He keeps more ado with this monster, than ever Banks did with his
horse, or the fellow with the elephant.

MACI. He will hang out his picture shortly, in a cloth, you shall see.

SOG. O, he does manage a quarrel the best that ever you saw, for terms and

FAST. Good faith, signior, now you speak of a quarrel, I'll acquaint you
with a difference that happened between a gallant and myself; sir
Puntarvolo, you know him if I should name him signior Luculento.

PUNT. Luculento! what inauspicious chance interposed itself to your two

FAST. Faith, sir, the same that sundered Agamemnon and great Thetis' son;
but let the cause escape, sir: he sent me a challenge, mixt with some few
braves, which I restored, and in fine we met. Now, indeed, sir, I must
tell you, he did offer at first very desperately, but without judgment:
for, look you, sir, I cast myself into this figure; now he comes violently
on, and withal advancing his rapier to strike, I thought to have took his
arm, for he had left his whole body to my election, and I was sure he could
not recover his guard. Sir, I mist my purpose in his arm, rash'd his
doublet-sleeve, ran him close by the left cheek, and through his hair. He
again lights me here, -- I had on a gold cable hatband, then new come up,
which I wore about a murey French hat I had, -- cuts my hatband, and yet it
was massy goldsmith's work, cuts my brims, which by good fortune, being
thick embroidered with gold twist and spangles, disappointed the force of
the blow: nevertheless, it grazed on my shoulder, takes me away six purls
of an Italian cut-work band I wore, cost me three pound in the Exchange but
three days before.

PUNT. This was a strange encounter.

FAST. Nay, you shall hear, sir: with this we both fell out, and breath'd.
Now, upon the second sign of his assault, I betook me to the former manner
of my defence; he, on the other side, abandon'd his body to the same danger
as before, and follows me still with blows: but I being loth to take the
deadly advantage that lay before me of his left side, made a kind of
stramazoun, ran him up to the hilts through the doublet, through the shirt,
and yet miss'd the skin. He, making a reverse blow, -- falls upon my
emboss'd girdle, I had thrown off the hangers a little before -- strikes
off a skirt of a thick-laced satin doublet I had, lined with four taffatas,
cuts off two panes embroidered with pearl, rends through the drawings-out
of tissue, enters the linings, and skips the flesh.

CAR. I wonder he speaks not of his wrought shirt.

FAST. Here, in the opinion of mutual damage, we paused; but, ere I
proceed, I must tell you, signior, that, in this last encounter, not having
leisure to put off my silver spurs, one of the rowels catch'd hold of the
ruffle of my boot, and, being Spanish leather, and subject to tear,
overthrows me, rends me two pair of silk stockings, that I put on, being
somewhat a raw morning, a peach colour and another, and strikes me some
half inch deep into the side of the calf: he, seeing the blood come,
presently takes horse, and away: I, having bound up my wound with a piece
of my wrought shirt --

CAR. O! comes it in there?

FAST. Rid after him, and, lighting at the court gate both together,
embraced, and march'dhand in hand up into the presence. Was not this
business well carried?

MACI. Well! yes, and by this we can guess what apparel the gentleman wore.

PUNT. 'Fore valour, it was a designment begun with much resolution,
maintain'd with as much prowess, and ended with more humanity. --
How now, what says the notary?

SERV. He says, he is ready, sir; he stays but your worship's pleasure.

PUNT. Come, we will go to him, monsieur. Gentlemen, shall we entreat you
to be witnesses?

SOG. You shall entreat me, sir. -- Come, Resolution.

SHIFT. I follow you, good Countenance.

CAR. Come, signior, come, come.

MACI. O, that there should be fortune
To clothe these men, so naked in desert!
And that the just storm of a wretched life
Beats them not ragged for their wretched souls,
And, since as fruitless, even as black, as coals!

MIT. Why, but signior, how comes it that Fungoso appeared not with his
sister's intelligence to Brisk?

COR. Marry, long of the evil angels that she gave him, who have indeed
tempted the good simple youth to follow the tail of the fashion, and
neglect the imposition of his friends. Behold, here he comes, very
worshipfully attended, and with good variety.



FUNG. Gramercy, good shoemaker, I'll put to strings myself..
[EXIT SHOEMAKER.] -- Now, sir, let me see, what must you have for this hat?

HABE. Here's the bill, sir.

FUNG. How does it become me, well?

TAI. Excellent, sir, as ever you had any hat in your life.

FUNG. Nay, you'll say so all.

HABE. In faith, sir, the hat's as good as any man in this town can serve
you, and will maintain fashion as long; never trust me for a groat else.

FUNG. Does it apply well to my suit?

TAI. Exceeding well, sir.

FUNG. How lik'st thou my suit, haberdasher?

HABE. By my troth, sir, 'tis very rarely well made; I never saw a suit sit
better, I can tell on.

TAI. Nay, we have no art to please our friends, we!

FUNG. Here, haberdasher, tell this same.

HABE. Good faith, sir, it makes you have an excellent body.

FUNG. Nay, believe me, I think I have as good a body in clothes as another.

TAI. You lack points to bring your apparel together, sir.

FUNG. I'll have points anon. How now! Is't right?

HABE. Faith, sir, 'tis too little' but upon farther hopes -- Good morrow
to you, sir.

FUNG. Farewell, good haberdasher. Well now, master Snip, let me see your

MIT. Me thinks he discharges his followers too thick.

COR. O, therein he saucily imitates some great man. I warrant you, though
he turns off them, he keeps this tailor, in place of a page, to follow him

FUNG. This bill is very reasonable, in faith: hark you, master Snip --
Troth, sir, I am not altogether so well furnished at this present, as I
could wish I were; but -- if you'll do me the favour to take part in hand,
you shall have all I have, by this hand.

TAI. Sir --

FUNG. And but give me credit for the rest, till the beginning of the next

TAI. O lord, sir --

FUNG. 'Fore God, and by this light, I'll pay you to the utmost, and
acknowledge myself very deeply engaged to you by the courtesy.

TAI. Why, how much have you there, sir?

FUNG. Marry, I have here four angels, and fifteen shillings of white
money: it's all I have, as I hope to be blest

TAI. You will not fail me at the next term with the rest?

FUNG. No, an I do, pray heaven I be hang'd. Let me never breathe again
upon this mortal stage, as the philosopher calls it! By this air, and as I
am a gentleman, I'll hold.

COR. He were an iron-hearted fellow, in my judgment, that would not credit
him upon this volley of oaths.

TAI. Well, sir, I'll not stick with any gentleman for a trifle: you know
what 'tis remains?

FUNG. Ay, sir, and I give you thanks in good faith. O fate, how happy I
am made in this good fortune! Well, now I'll go seek out monsieur Brisk.
'Ods so, I have forgot riband for my shoes, and points. 'Slid, what luck's
this! how shall I do? Master Snip, pray let me reduct some two or three
shillings for points and ribands: as I am an honest man, I have utterly
disfurnished myself, in the default of memory; pray let me be beholding to
you; it shall come home in the bill, believe me.

TAI. Faith, sir, I can hardly depart with ready money; but I'll take up,
and send you some by my boy presently. What coloured riband would you have?

FUNG. What you shall think meet in your judgment, sir, to my suit.

TAI. Well, I'll send you some presently.

FUNG. And points too, sir?

TAI. And points too, sir.

FUNG. Good lord, how shall I study to deserve this kindness of you sir!
Pray let your youth make haste, for I should have done a business an hour
since, that I doubt I shall come too late.
Now, in good faith, I am exceeding proud of my suit.

COR. Do you observe the plunges that this poor gallant is put to, signior,
to purchase the fashion?

MIT. Ay, and to be still a fashion behind with the world, that's the sport.

COR. Stay: O, here they come from seal'd and deliver'd.



PUNT. Well, now my whole venture is forth, I will resolve to depart shortly.

FAST. Faith, sir Puntarvolo, go to the court, and take leave of the ladies

PUNT. I care not, if it be this afternoon's labour. Where is Carlo?

FAST. Here he comes.


CAR. Faith, gallants, I am persuading this gentleman [POINTS TO SOGLIARDO]
to turn courtier. He is a man of fair revenue, and his estate will bear
the charge well. Besides, for his other gifts of the mind, or so, why they
are as nature lent him them, pure, simple, without any artificial drug or
mixture of these two threadbare beggarly qualities, learning and knowledge,
and therefore the more accommodate and genuine. Now, for the life itself --

FAST. O, the most celestial, and full of wonder and delight, that can be
imagined, signior, beyond thought and apprehension of pleasure! A man
lives there in that divine rapture, that he will think himself i' the ninth
heaven for the time, and lose all sense of mortality whatsoever, when he
shall behold such glorious, and almost immortal beauties; hear such
angelical and harmonious voices, discourse with such flowing and ambrosial
spirits, whose wits are as sudden as lightning, and humorous as nectar; oh,
it makes a man all quintessence and flame, and lifts him up, in a moment,
to the very crystal crown of the sky, where, hovering in the strength of
his imagination, he shall behold all the delights of the Hesperides, the
Insulae Fortunatae, Adonis' Gardens, Tempe, or what else, confined within
the amplest verge of poesy, to be mere umbrae, and imperfect figures,
conferred with the most essential felicity of your court.

MACI. Well, this ecomium was not extemporal, it came too perfectly off.

CAR. Besides, sir, you shall never need to go to a hot-house, you shall
sweat there with courting your mistress, or losing your money at primero,
as well as in all the stoves in Sweden. Marry, this, sir, you must ever be
sure to carry a good strong perfume about you, that your mistress's dog may
smell you out amongst the rest; and, in making love to her, never fear to
be out; for you may have a pipe of tobacco, or a bass viol shall hang o'
the wall, of purpose, will put you in presently. The tricks your
Resolution has taught you in tobacco, the whiffe, and those sleights, will
stand you in very good ornament there.

FAST. Ay, to some, perhaps; but, an he should come to my mistress with
tobacco (this gentleman knows) she'd reply upon him, i'faith. O, by this
bright sun, she has the most acute, ready, and facetious wit that -- tut,
there's no spirit able to stand her. You can report it, signior, you have
seen her.

PUNT. Then can he report no less, out of his judgment, I assure him.

MACI. Troth, I like her well enough, but she's too self-conceited, methinks.

FAST. Ay, indeed, she's a little too self-conceited; an 'twere not for
that humour, she were the most-to-be-admired lady in the world.

PUNT. Indeed, it is a humour that takes from her other excellences.

MACI. Why, it may easily be made to forsake her, in my thought.

FAST. Easily, sir! then are all impossibilities easy.

MACI. You conclude too quick upon me, signior. What will you say, if I
make it so perspicuously appear now, that yourself shall confess nothing
more possible?

FAST. Marry, I will say, I will both applaud and admire you for it.

PUNT. And I will second him in the admiration.

MACI. Why, I'll show you, gentlemen. -- Carlo, come hither.

SOG. Good faith, I have a great humour to the court. What thinks my
Resolution? shall I adventure?

SHIFT. Troth, Countenance, as you please; the place is a place of good
reputation and capacity.

SOG. O, my tricks in tobacco, as Carlo says, will show excellent there.

SHIFT. Why, you may go with these gentlemen now, and see fashions; and
after, as you shall see correspondence.

SOG. You say true. You will go with me, Resolution?

SHIFT. I will meet you, Countenance, about three or four o'clock; but, to
say to go with you, I cannot; for, as I am Apple-John, I am to go before
the cockatrice you saw this morning, and therefore pray, present me
excused, good Countenance.

SOG. Farewell, good Resolution, but fail not to meet.

SHIFT. As I live.

PUNT. Admirably excellent!

MACI. If you can but persuade Sogliardo to court, there's all now.

CAR. O, let me alone, that's my task.

FAST. Now, by wit, Macilente, it's above measure excellent; 'twill be the
only court-exploit that ever proved courtier ingenious.

PUNT. Upon my soul, it puts the lady quite out of her humour, and we shall
laugh with judgment.

CAR. Come, the gentleman was of himself resolved to go with you, afore I
moved it.

MACI. Why, then, gallants, you two and Carlo go afore to prepare the jest;
Sogliardo and I will come some while after you.

CAR. Pardon me, I am not for the court.

PUNT. That's true; Carlo comes not at court, indeed. Well, you shall
leave it to the faculty of monsieur Brisk, and myself; upon our lives, we
will manage it happily. Carlo shall bespeak supper at the Mitre, against
we come back: where we will meet and dimple our cheeks with laughter at
the success.

CAR. Ay, but will you promise to come?

PUNT. Myself shall undertake for them; he that fails, let his reputation
lie under the lash of thy tongue.

CAR. Ods so, look who comes here!


SOG. What, nephew!

FUNG. Uncle, God save you; did you see a gentleman, one monsieur Brisk, a
courtier? he goes in such a suit as I do.

SOG. Here is the gentleman, nephew, but not in such a suit.

FUNG. Another suit!

SOG. How now, nephew?

FAST. Would you speak with me, sir?

CAR. Ay, when he has recovered himself, poor Poll!

PUNT. Some rosa-solis.

MACI. How now, signior?

FUNG. I am not well, sir.

MACI. Why, this it is to dog the fashion.

CAR. Nay, come, gentlemen, remember your affairs; his disease is nothing
but the flux of apparel.

PUNT. Sirs, return to the lodging, keep the cat safe; I'll be the dog's
guardian myself.

SOG. Nephew, will you go to court with us? these gentlemen and I are for
the court; nay, be not so melancholy.

FUNG. 'Slid, I think no man in Christendom has that rascally fortune that
I have.

MACI. Faith, you suit is well enough, signior.

FUNG. Nay, not for that, I protest; but I had an errand to monsieur
Fastidious, and I have forgot it.

MACI. Why, go along to court with us, and remember it; come, gentlemen,
you three take one boat, and Sogliardo and I will take another; we shall be
there instantly.

FAST. Content: good sir, vouchsafe us your pleasance.

PUNT. Farewell, Carlo: remember.

CAR. I warrant you: would I had one of Kemp's shoes to throw after you.

PUNT. Good fortune will close the eyes of our jest, fear not; and we shall

MIT. This Macilente, signior, begins to be more sociable on a sudden,
methinks, than he was before: there's some portent in it, I believe.

COR. O, he's a fellow of a strange nature. Now does he, in this calm of
his humour, plot, and store up a world of malicious thoughts in his brain,
till he is so full with them, that you shall see the very torrent of his
envy break forth like a land-flood: and, against the course of all their
affections, oppose itself so violently, that you will almost have wonder to
think, how 'tis possible the current of their dispositions shall receive so
quick and strong an alteration.

MIT. Ay, marry, sir, this is that, on which my expectation has dwelt all
this while; for I must tell you, signior, though I was loth to interrupt
the scene, yet I made it a question in mine own private discourse, how he
should properly call it "Every Man out of his Humour", when I saw all his
actors so strongly pursue, and continue their humours?

COR. Why, therein his art appears most full of lustre, and approacheth
nearest the life; especially when in the flame and height of their humours,
they are laid flat, it fills the eye better, and with more contentment.
How tedious a sight were it to behold a proud exalted tree kept and cut
down by degrees, when it might be fell'd in a moment! and to set the axe
to it before it came to that pride and fulness, were, as not to have it

MIT. Well, I shall long till I see this fall, you talk of.

COR. To help your longing, signior, let your imagination be swifter than a
pair of oars: and by this, suppose Puntarvolo, Brisk, Fungoso, and the
dog, arrived at the court-gate, and going up to the great chamber.
Macilente and Sogliardo, we'll leave them on the water, till possibility
and natural means may land them. Here come the gallants, now prepare your





PUNT. Come, gentles, Signior, you are sufficiently instructed.

FAST. Who, I, sir?

PUNT. No, this gentleman. But stay, I take thought how to bestow my dog;
he is no competent attendant for the presence.

FAST. Mass, that's true, indeed, knight; you must not carry him into the

PUNT. I know it, and I, like a dull beast, forgot to bring one of my
cormorants to attend me.

FAST. Why, you were best leave him at the porter's lodge.

PUNT. Not so; his worth is too well known amongst them, to be forth-coming.

FAST. 'Slight, how will you do then?

PUNT. I must leave him with one that is ignorant of his quality, if I will
have him to be safe. And see! here comes one that will carry coals, ergo,
will hold my dog.
My honest friend, may I commit the tuition of this dog to thy prudent care?

GROOM. You may, if you please, sir.

PUNT. Pray thee let me find thee here at my return; it shall not be long,
till I will ease thee of thy employment, and please thee. Forth, gentles.

FAST. Why, but will you leave him with so slight command, and infuse no
more charge upon the fellow?

PUNT. Charge! no; there were no policy in that; that were to let him know
the value of the gem he holds, and so to tempt frail nature against her
disposition. No, pray thee let thy honesty be sweet, as it shall be short.

GROOM. Yes, sir.

PUNT. But hark you, gallants, and chiefly monsieur Brisk: when we come in
eye-shot, or presence of this lady, let not other matters carry us from our
project; but, if we can, single her forth to some place --

FAST. I warrant you.

PUNT. And be not too sudden, but let the device induce itself with good
circumstance. On.

FUNG. Is this the way? good truth, here be fine hangings.

GROOM. Honesty! sweet, and short! Marry, it shall, sir, doubt you not;
for even at this instant if one would give me twenty pounds, I would not
deliver him; there's for the sweet: but now, if any man come offer me but
two-pence, he shall have him; there's for the short now. 'Slid, what a mad
humorous gentleman is this to leave his dog with me! I could run away with
him now, an he were worth any thing.

MACI. Come on, signior, now prepare to court this all-witted lady, most
naturally, and like yourself.

SOG. Faith, an you say the word, I'll begin to her in tobacco.

MACI. O, fie on't! no; you shall begin with, "How does my sweet lady",
or, "Why are you so melancholy, madam?" though she be very merry, it's all
one. Be sure to kiss your hand often enough; pray for her health, and tell
her, how "More than most fair she is". Screw your face at one side thus,
and protest: let her fleer, and look askance, and hide her teeth with her
fan, when she laughs a fit, to bring her into more matter, that's nothing:
you must talk forward, (though it be without sense, so it be without
blushing,) 'tis most court-like and well.

SOG. But shall I not use tobacco at all?

MACI. O, by no means; 'twill but make your breath suspected, and that you
use it only to confound the rankness of that.

SOG. Nay, I'll be advised, sir, by my friends.

MACI. Od's my life, see where sir Puntarvolo's dog is.

GROOM. I would the gentleman would return for his follower here, I'll
leave him to his fortunes else.

MACI. 'Twere the only true jest in the world to poison him now; ha! by
this hand I'll do it, if I could but get him of the fellow. [ASIDE.]
Signior Sogliardo, walk aside, and think upon some device to entertain the
lady with.

SOG. So I do, sir.

MACI. How now, mine honest friend! whose dog-keeper art thou?

GROOM. Dog-keeper, sir! I hope I scorn that, i'faith.

MACI. Why, dost thou not keep a dog?

GROOM. Sir, now I do, and now I do not: [THROWS OFF THE DOG.] I think
this be sweet and short. Make me his dog-keeper!

MACI. This is excellent, above expectation! nay, stay, sir; [SEIZING THE
DOG.] you'd be travelling; but I'll give you a dram shall shorten your
voyage, here. [GIVES HIM POISON.] So, sir, I'll be bold to take my leave
of you. Now to the Turk's court in the devil's name, for you shall never
go o' God's name. [KICKS HIM OUT.] -- Sogliardo, come.

SOG. I have it i'faith now, will sting it.

MACI. Take heed you leese it not signior, ere you come there; preserve it.

COR. How like you this first exploit of his?

MIT. O, a piece of true envy; but I expect the issue of the other device.

COR. Here they come will make it appear.



SAV. Why, I thought, sir Puntarvolo, you had been gone your voyage?

PUNT. Dear and most amiable lady, your divine beauties do bind me to those
offices, that I cannot depart when I would.

SAV. 'Tis most court-like spoken, sir; but how might we do to have a sight
of your dog and cat?

FAST. His dog is in the court, lady.

SAV. And not your cat? how dare you trust her behind you, sir.

PUNT. Troth, madam, she hath sore eyes, and she doth keep her chamber;
marry, I have left her under sufficient guard there are two of my followers
to attend her.

SAV. I'll give you some water for her eyes. When do you go, sir?

PUNT. Certes, sweet lady, I know not.

FAST. He doth stay the rather, madam, to present your acute judgment with
so courtly and well parted a gentleman as yet your ladyship hath never seen.

SAV. What is he, gentle monsieur Brisk? not that gentleman?

FAST. No, lady, this is a kinsman to justice Silence.

PUNT. Pray, sir, give me leave to report him. He's a gentleman, lady, of
that rare and admirable faculty, as, I protest, I know not his like in
Europe; he is exceedingly valiant, an excellent scholar, and so exactly
travelled, that he is able, in discourse, to deliver you a model of any
prince's court in the world; speaks the languages with that purity of
phrase, and facility of accent, that it breeds astonishment; his wit, the
most exuberant, and, above wonder, pleasant, of all that ever entered the
concave of this ear.

FAST. 'Tis most true, lady; marry, he is no such excellent proper man.

PUNT. His travels have changed his complexion, madam.

SAV. O, sir Puntarvolo, you must think every man was not born to have my
servant Brisk's feature.

PUNT. But that which transcends all, lady; he doth so peerlessly imitate
any manner of person for gesture, action, passion, or whatever --

FAST. Ay, especially a rustic or a clown, madam, that it is not possible
for the sharpest-sighted wit in the world to discern any sparks of the
gentleman in him, when he does it.

SAV. O, monsieur Brisk, be not so tyrannous to confine all wits within the
compass of your own; not find the sparks of a gentleman in him, if he be a

FUNG. No, in truth, sweet lady, I believe you cannot.

SAV. Do you believe so? why, I can find sparks of a gentleman in you, sir.

PUNT. Ay, he is a gentleman, madam, and a reveller.

FUNG. Indeed, I think I have seen your ladyship at our revels.

SAV. Like enough, sir; but would I might see this wonder you talk of; may
one have a sight of him for any reasonable sum?

PUNT. Yes, madam, he will arrive presently.

SAV. What, and shall we see him clown it?

FAST. I'faith, sweet lady, that you shall; see, here he comes.

PUNT. This is he! pray observe him, lady.

SAV. Beshrew me, he clowns it properly indeed.

PUNT. Nay, mark his courtship.

SOG. How does my sweet lady? hot and moist? beautiful and lusty? ha!

SAV. Beautiful, an it please you, sir, but not lusty.

SOG. O ho, lady, it pleases you to say so, in truth: And how does my
sweet lady? in health? 'Bonaroba, quaeso, que novelles? que novelles?'
sweet creature!

SAV. O excellent! why, gallants, is this he that cannot be deciphered?
they were very blear-witted, i'faith, that could not discern the gentleman
in him.

PUNT. But you do, in earnest, lady?

SAV. Do I sir! why, if you had any true court-judgment in the carriage of
his eye, and that inward power that forms his countenance, you might
perceive his counterfeiting as clear as the noon-day; alas -- nay, if you
would have tried my wit, indeed, you should never have told me he was a
gentleman, but presented him for a true clown indeed; and then have seen if
I could have deciphered him.

FAST. 'Fore God, her ladyship says true, knight: but does he not affect
the clown most naturally, mistress?

PUNT. O, she cannot but affirm that, out of the bounty of her judgment.

SAV. Nay, out of doubt he does well, for a gentleman to imitate: but I
warrant you, he becomes his natural carriage of the gentleman, much better
than his clownery.

FAST. 'Tis strange, in truth, her ladyship should see so far into him!

PUNT. Ay, is it not?

SAV. Faith, as easily as may be; not decipher him, quoth you!

FUNG. Good sadness, I wonder at it

MACI. Why, has she deciphered him, gentlemen?

PUNT. O, most miraculously, and beyond admiration.

MACI. Is it possible?

FAST. She hath gather'd most infallible signs of the gentleman in him,
that's certain.

SAV. Why, gallants, let me laugh at you a little: was this your device,
to try my judgment in a gentleman?

MACI. Nay, lady, do not scorn us, though you have this gift of perspicacy
above others. What if he should be no gentleman now, but a clown indeed,

PUNT. How think you of that? would not your ladyship be Out of your Humour?

FAST. O, but she knows it is not so.

SAV. What if he were not a man, ye may as well say? Nay, if your worships
could gull me so, indeed, you were wiser than you are taken for.

MACI. In good faith, lady, he is a very perfect clown, both by father and
mother; that I'll assure you.

SAV. O, sir, you are very pleasurable.

MACI. Nay, do but look on his hand, and that shall resolve you; look you,
lady, what a palm here is.

SOG. Tut, that was with holding the plough.

MACI. The plough! did you discern any such thing in him, madam?

FAST. Faith no, she saw the gentleman as bright as noon-day, she; she
deciphered him at first.

MACI. Troth, I am sorry your ladyship's sight should be so suddenly struck.

SAV. O, you are goodly beagles!

FAST. What, is she gone?

SOG. Nay, stay, sweet lady: 'que novelles? que novelles?'

SAV. Out, you fool, you!

FUNG. She's Out of her Humour, i'faith.

FAST. Nay, let's follow it while 'tis hot, gentlemen.

PUNT. Come, on mine honour we shall make her blush in the presence; my
spleen is great with laughter.

MACI. Your laughter will be a child of a feeble life, I believe, sir.
[ASIDE.] -- Come, signior, your looks are too dejected, methinks; why mix
you not mirth with the rest?

FUNG. Od's will, this suit frets me at the soul. I'll have it alter'd
to-morrow, sure.



SHIFT. I am come to the court, to meet with my Countenance, Sogliardo;
poor men must be glad of such countenance, when they can get no better.
Well, need may insult upon a man, but it shall never make him despair of
consequence. The world will say, 'tis base: tush, base! 'tis base to
live under the earth, not base to live above it by any means.

FAST. The poor lady is most miserably out of her humour, i'faith.

PUNT. There was never so witty a jest broken, at the tilt of all the court
wits christen'd.

MACI. O, this applause taints it foully.

SOG. I think I did my part in courting. -- O, Resolution!

PUNT. Ay me, my dog!

MACI. Where is he?

FAST. 'Sprecious, go seek for the fellow, good signior

PUNT. Here, here I left him.

MACI. Why, none was here when we came in now, but cavalier Shirt; enquire
of him.

FAST. Did you see sir Puntarvolo's dog here, cavalier, since you came?

SHIFT. His dog, sir! he may look his dog, sir; I saw none of his dog, sir.

MACI. Upon my life, he has stolen your dog, sir, and been hired to it by
some that have ventured with you; you may guess by his peremptory answers.

PUNT. Not unlike; for he hath been a notorious thief by his own
confession. Sirrah, where is my dog?

SHIFT. Charge me with your dog, sir! I have none of your dog, sir.

PUNT. Villain, thou liest.

SHIFT. Lie, sir! s'blood, -- you are but a man, sir.

PUNT. Rogue and thief, restore him.

SOG. Take heed, sir Puntarvolo, what you do; he'll bear no coals, I can
tell you, o' my word.

MACI. This is rare.

SOG. It's marle he stabs you not: By this light, he hath stabbed forty,
for forty times less matter, I can tell you of my knowledge.

PUNT. I will make thee stoop, thou abject.

SOG. Make him stoop, sir! Gentlemen, pacify him, or he'll be kill'd.

MACI. Is he so tall a man?

SOG. Tall a man! if you love his life, stand betwixt them. Make him stoop!

PUNT. My dog, villain, or I will hang thee; thou hast confest robberies,
and other felonious acts, to this gentleman, thy Countenance --

SOG. I'll bear no witness.

PUNT. And without my dog, I will hang thee, for them.

SOG. What! kneel to thine enemies!

SHIFT. Pardon me, good sir; God is my witness, I never did robbery in all
my life.

FUNG. O, sir Puntarvolo, your dog lies giving up the ghost in the wood-yard.

MACI. Heart, is he not dead yet!

PUNT. O, my dog, born to disastrous fortune! pray you conduct me, sir.

SOG. How! did you never do any robbery in your life?

MACI. O, this is good! so he swore, sir.

SOG. Ay, I heard him: and did you swear true, sir?

SHIFT. Ay, as I hope to be forgiven, sir, I never robbed any man; I never
stood by the highwayside, sir, but only said so, because I would get myself
a name, and be counted a tall man.

SOG. Now out, base viliaco! thou my Resolution! I thy Countenance! By
this light, gentlemen, he hath confest to me the most inexorable company of
robberies, and damn'd himself that he did 'em: you never heard the like.
Out, scoundrel, out! follow me no more, I command thee; out of my sight,
go, hence, speak not; I will not hear thee: away, camouccio!

MACI. O, how I do feed upon this now, and fat myself! here were a couple
unexpectedly dishumour'd. Well, by this time, I hope, sir Puntarvolo and
his dog are both out of humour to travel. [ASIDE.] -- Nay, gentlemen, why
do you not seek out the knight, and comfort him? our supper at the Mitre
must of necessity hold to-night, if you love your reputations.

FAST. 'Fore God, I am so melancholy for his dog's disaster -- but I'll go.

SOG. Faith, and I may go too, but I know I shall be so melancholy.

MACI. Tush, melancholy! you must forget that now, and remember you lie at
the mercy of a fury: Carlo will rack your sinews asunder, and rail you to
dust, if you come not.

MIT. O, then their fear of Carlo, belike, makes them hold their meeting.

COR. Ay, here he comes; conceive him but to be enter'd the Mitre, and 'tis


CAR. Holla! where be these shot-sharks?


DRAW. By and by; you are welcome, good master Buffone.

CAR. Where's George? call me George hither, quickly.

DRAW. What wine please you have, sir? I'll draw you that's neat, master

CAR. Away, neophite, do as I bid thee, bring my dear George to me: --
Mass, here he comes.

GEORGE. Welcome, master Carlo.

CAR. What, is supper ready, George?

GEORGE. Ay, sir, almost: Will you have the cloth laid, master Carlo?

CAR. O, what else? Are none of the gallants come yet?

GEORGE. None yet, sir.

CAR. Stay, take me with you, George; let me have a good fat loin of pork
laid to the fire, presently.

GEORGE. It shall, sir.

CAR. And withal, hear you, draw me the biggest shaft you have out of the
butt you wot of; away, you know my meaning, George; quick!

GEORGE. Done, sir.

CAR. I never hungered so much for anything in my life, as I do to know our
gallants' success at court; now is that lean, bald-rib Macilente, that salt
villain, plotting some mischievous device, and lies a soaking in their
frothy humours like a dry crust, till he has drunk 'em all up: Could the
pummice but hold up his eyes at other men's happiness, in any reasonable
proportion, 'slid, the slave were to be loved next heaven, above honour,
wealth, rich fare, apparel, wenches, all the delights of the belly and the
groin, whatever.

GEORGE. Here, master Carlo.

CAR. Is it right, boy?

GEORGE. Ay, sir, I assure you 'tis right.

CAR. Well said, my dear George, depart: [EXIT GEORGE.] -- Come, my small
gimblet, you in the false scabbard, away, so! [PUTS FORTH THE DRAWER, AND
SHUTS THE DOOR.] Now to you, sir Burgomaster, let's taste of your bounty.

MIT. What, will he deal upon such quantities of wine, alone?

COR. You will perceive that, sir.

CAR. [DRINKS.] Ay, marry, sir, here's purity; O, George -- I could bite
off his nose for this now, sweet rogue, he has drawn nectar, the very soul
of the grape! I'll wash my temples with some on't presently, and drink
some half a score draughts; 'twill heat the brain, kindle my imagination, I
shall talk nothing but crackers and fire-works to-night. So, sir! please
you to be here, sir, and I here: so.

COR. This is worth the observation, signior.

CAR. 1 CUP. Now, sir, here's to you; and I present you with so much of my

2 CUP. I take it kindly from you, sir. [DRINKS], and will return you the
like proportion; but withal, sir, remembering the merry night we had at the
countess's, you know where, sir.

1 CUP. By heaven, you put me in mind now of a very necessary office, which
I will propose in your pledge, sir; the health of that honourable countess,
and the sweet lady that sat by her, sir.

2 CUP. I do vail to it with reverence [DRINKS]. And now, signior, with
these ladies, I'll be bold to mix the health of your divine mistress.

1 CUP. Do you know her, sir?

2 CUP. O lord, sir, ay; and in the respectful memory and mention of her, I
could wish this wine were the most precious drug in the world.

1 CUP. Good faith, sir, you do honour me in't exceedingly. [DRINKS.]

MIT. Whom should he personate in this, signior?

COR. Faith, I know not, sir; observe, observe him.

2 CUP. If it were the basest filth, or mud that runs in the channel, I am
bound to pledge it respectively, sir. [DRINKS.] And now, sir, here is a
replenish'd bowl, which I will reciprocally turn upon you, to the health of
the count Frugale.

1 CUP. The count Frugale's health, sir? I'll pledge it on my knees, by
this light.

2 CUP. Nay, do me right, sir.

1 CUP. So I do, in faith.

2 CUP. Good faith you do not; mine was fuller.

1 CUP. Why, believe me, it was not.

2 CUP. Believe me it was; and you do lie.

1 CUP. Lie, sir!

2 CUP. Ay, sir.

1 CUP. 'Swounds! you rascal!

2 CUP. O, come, stab if you have a mind to it.

1 CUP. Stab! dost thou think I dare not?

CAR. [SPEAKS IN HIS OWN PERSON.] Nay, I beseech you, gentlemen, what
means this? nay, look, for shame respect your reputations.

MACI. Why, how now, Carlo! what humour's this?

CAR. O, my good mischief! art thou come? where are the rest, where are
the rest?

MACI. Faith, three of our ordnance are burst.

CAR. Burst! how comes that?

MACI. Faith, overcharged, overcharged.

CAR. But did not the train hold?

MACI. O, yes, and the poor lady is irrecoverably blown up.

CAR. Why, but which of the munition is miscarried, ha?

MACI. Imprimis, sir Puntarvolo; next, the Countenance and Resolution.

CAR. How, how, for the love of wit?


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