University of Virginia Library

Scene III.

Turfe. Clench. Medlay. Scriben. Puppy. Pan.
Tur.
What's that, makes you'all so merry, and lowd, Sirs, ha?
I could ha' heard you to my privie walke.

Cle.
A Contervarsie, 'twixt your two learn'd men here:
Annibal Puppy sayes, that Law and Poetry
Are both flat cheating; All's but writing and reading,
He sayes, be't verse or prose.

Tur.
I thinke in conzience,
He do' zay true? Who is't doe thwart 'un, ha?

Med.
Why my friend Scriben, and't please your worship.

Tur.
Who D'oge? my D'ogenes? a great Writer, marry!
Hee'll vace mee down, mee my selfe sometimes,
That verse goes upon veete, as you and I doe:
But I can gi' 'un the hearing; zit me downe;
And laugh at 'un; and to my selfe conclude,
The greatest Clarkes, are not the wisest men
Ever. Here they'are both! What Sirs, disputin,
And holdin Arguments of verse, and prose?
And no greene thing afore the Door, that shewes,
Or speakes a wedding?

Scr.
Those were verses now,
Your worship spake, and run upon vive feet.

Tur.
Feet, vrom my mouth, D'oge? Leave your 'zurd uppinions:
And get me in some boughes.

Scr.
Let 'hem ha' leaves first.
There's nothing greene but Bayes, and Rosemary.

Pup.
And they're too good for strewings, your Maids say.

Tur.
You take up 'dority still, to vouch against me.
All the twelve smocks i' the house, zur, are your Authors.
Get some fresh hay then, to lay under foot:
Some Holly and Ivie, to make vine the posts:
Is't not Sonne Valentines day? and Mrs. Awdrey,
Your young Dame to be married? I wonder Clay
Should be so tedious: Hee's to play Sonne Valentine!
And the Clowne sluggard's not come fro' Kilborne yet?

Med.
Do you call your Son i' Law Clowne, and't please your worship?

Tur.
Yes, and vor worship too; my neighbour Medlay.
A Midlesex Clowne; and one of Finsbury:
They were the first Colon's o' the kingdome here:
The Primitory Colon's; my D'ogenes sayes.
Where's D'ogenes, my Writer now? What were those
You told me, D'ogenes, were the first Colon's
O' the Countrey? that the Romans brought in here?

Scr.
The Coloni. Sir, Colonus is an Inhabitant:
A Clowne originall: as you'ld zay a Farmer, a Tiller o'th' Earth,
Ere sin' the Romans planted their Colonie first,
Which was in Midlesex.

Tur.
Why so, I thanke you heartily, good D'ogenes, you ha' zertified me.
I had rather be an ancient Colon, (as they zay) a Clowne of Midlesex:
A good rich Farmer, or high Constable.
I'ld play hun 'gaine a Knight, or a good Squire;
Or Gentleman of any other Countie
I' the Kindome.

Pan.
Out-cept Kent, for there they landed
All Gentlemen, and came in with the Conquerour,
Mad Iulius Cæsar; who built Dover-Castle:
My Ancestor To-Pan, beat the first Ketle-drum,
Avore 'hun, here vrom Dover on the March:
Which peice of monumentall copper hangs
Vp, scourd, at Hammer-smith yet; for there they came
Over the Thames, at a low water marke;
Vore either London, I, or Kingston Bridge—
I doubt were kursind.

Tur.
Zee, who is here: Iohn Clay?
Zonne Valentine, and Bride-groome! ha' you zeene
Your Valentine-Bride yet, sin' you came? Iohn Clay?