 | Hollands Leagver |  |
Scen. 5.
Agurtes, Autolicus.Agur.
Tis a dull age this same, casts not her eyes
On men of worth, Captaines and Commanders,
Victorious abroad, are vanquish'd at home,
With poverty, and disgrace, they looke as bad
As Brutus, when he met his evill Genius:
Worse, then they had beene frighted from the ruines
Of Isis Temple; and you Sir, for your part,
That have beene brought up under me at my elbow,
A daily witnesse unto all my proiects,
That might have got experience enough
To cozen a whole State, if they had trusted you.
Now to be wanting to your selfe, worne out,
No name, or title, but on posts, and trenchers,
Are my hopes come to this?
Autol.
What should I doe?
I haue no thriuing way to lye and flatter,
Nor haue I such dexterity of wit
As you haue (blest be heaven) to convert
Blacke into white.
Agur.
Nay, if you have no will,
Nor power to free your selfe, you must resolve
To sticke in the dirt still.
Autol.
Nor can I promise
The death of any by the Starres, I haue
No rich mans funerall to folemnize,
That left a guilt ring for my Legacie,
And his old Velvet jerkin to survive him.
I have no secret boyles within my breast,
For which I am fear'd, no stir in Law to follow,
No accusation 'gainst a great man,
No house to let to farme, no tender wife
To prostitute, or skill to corrupt others,
And sleepe amidst their wanton Dialogues.
Agur.
I cry you mercy, you would faine be stil'd
An honest politicke foole, see all mens turnes
Seru'd but your owne; so leave off to be good
For what is now accounted to be good?
Take a good Lawyer, or a good Atturney,
A Citizen that's a good Chapman;
In a good sense what are they? I would knows
Why a good Gamester, or a good Courtier?
Is't for their honest dealing? Take a good Poet,
And if he write not bawdy lines and raptures,
I'll not giue a pinne for him.
Autol.
Would you haue me
Act the plagiary, and seeke preferment,
To be the drunken bard of some blacke stewes?
And thinke my destinie well satisfied,
When my shame feeds me, and at length expect
A Legacie, bequeath'd me from some Bawd,
To the proportion of my Herma.
Agur.
Well I perceive that I must once more take you
To my protection, which if I doe,
I'll teach you better rules, you shall no more
Commit your misery to loose papers.
Nor court my Lord with Panegyricks, nor make
Strange Anagrams of my Lady: you shall not need
To deale for stale Commodities, nor yet
Send forth your privy Bils without a Seale,
To free you from your lodging, where you have
Laine in, most part of the vacation.
You shall no longer runne in score with your hostesse
For browne Tosts and Tobacco, but you shall leave
Your open standings at the ends of Lanes,
Or your close coverts in Tobacco-shops,
Where you giue strickt attendance like a Serjeant,
Vntill some antidated Country cloake
Passe by, whom you most impudently may
Assault, to borrow twelve pence; but beare up
Stifly, and with the best.
Autol.
How shall that be done?
Agur.
We will not call Tirefias from the dead,
To shew us how, as he did once Ulysses.
You must resolue to learne vertue from others,
Fortune from me.
Autol.
For that I'll make no scruple.
Agur.
I haue a bird i'th wind, I'll fly thee on him.
He shall be thy adventure, thy first quarry.
Autol.
What's hee?
Agur.
A golden one, that drops his feathers,
That has receiv'd his patrimony, giues monie
For all acquaintance, when he first came up,
His onely search was for prime Curtezans.
And those he entertain'd for Mistresses,
Onely sometimes to drinke a health to them,
The Ladies too would use him for a cooler,
But they suspect his silence, yet he uses
As he had bought them, thou shalt hooke him in,
And cracke him like a Nut.
Autol.
Is he not the Sonne
To the rich Vsurer, that died so lately?
Agur.
The same, that heap'd up mony by the Bushel;
And now this studies how to scatter it.
His father walkes to see what becomes of it,
And that's his torment after death.
Autol.
When shall I see him?
Agur.
He is to meet me here within this houre,
Then take you an occasion to passe by,
And I will whisper to him privately,
And prayse thee, beyond Pirrhus or Hannibal.
You must talke, and looke big, 'twill be the grace on't.
Autol.
What shall I turne a Roarer?
Agur.
Any thing.
Broker, or Pandar, Cheater, or Lifter,
And steale like a Lacedemonian.
Obserue what I doe, and fill up the Scene.
Enter Boy.
How now? what newes?
Boy.
Sir, there's some five or six without to speake with you.
Agur.
How, fiue or six.
Boy.
Yes, Sir, and they pretend
Great businesse.
Agur.
What manner of men are they?
Boy.
They looke like pictures of Antiquitie.
And their cloakes seeme to have bin the coverings
Of some old Monuments.
Agur.
They are my Gibeonites,
Are come to traffique with me, some designe
Is now on foot, and this is our Exchange time.
These are my old proiectors, and they make me
The superintendent of their businesse.
But still they shoot two or three bowes too short,
For want of monie and adventurers.
They haue as many demurres as the Chancery,
Than any dreaming Philosopher; one of them
Will undertake the making of Bay-salt,
For a penny a Bushell, to serue the State,
Another dreames of building water-workes,
Drying of Fennes and Marshes, like the Dutchmen.
Another strives to raise his fortunes, from
Decay'd Bridges, and would exact a tribute
From Ale-houses, and signe-posts: some there are,
Would make a thorow-fare for the whole kingdome,
And office, where Nature should give account
For all shee tooke, and sent into the world.
But they were borne in an unlucky houre,
For some unfortunate mischance or other,
Still come a'thwart them; well I must into them,
And feast them with new hopes, 'twill be good sport,
To heare how they dispute it, Pro, and Con.
In the meane time, Autolicus, prepare
To meet my Courtier.
Autol.
I have my Q. Sir.
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