University of Virginia Library

Scæna prima.

Enter the 2. Brothers.
Pas.
Ha, ha, ha.

Within.
2 Bro.
Hark, hark, how lowd his fit's growne.

Pas.
Ha, ha, ha.

1. Bro.
Now let our sister lose no time, but ply it
With all the power she has.

2 Bro.
Her shame growes big, brother;
The Cupids shape will hardly hold it longer,
'Twould take up half an Ell of China Damask more,
And all too little: it struts per'lously:
There is no tamp'ring with these Cupids longer,
The meere conceit with woman-kinde works strong.

Pas.
Ha, ha, ha.

2 Bro.
The laugh comes nearer now,
'Twere good we were not seen yet.

Ex. Broth.
Enter Passion. and Base his Jester.
Pas.
Ha, ha, ha.
And was he bastinado'd to the life? ha, ha, ha.
I prethee say, Lord Generall, how did the Rascals
Entrench themselves?

Base.
Most deeply, politickly, all in ditches.

Pas.
Ha, ha, ha.

Bas.
'Tis thought he'll ne're beare armes ith' field agen,
Has much adoe, to lift 'em to his head, sir.

Pas.
I would he had.

Base.
On either side round Truncheons plaid so thick,
That Shoulders, Chines, nay Flanks were paid toth' quick.

Pas.
Well said Lord Generall: ha, ha, ha.

Bas.
But pray how grew the difference first betwixt you?

Pas.
There was never any sir; there lies the jest man;
Onely because he was taller then his brother;
There's all my quarrell to him; and me thought
He should be beaten for't, my minde so gave me, sir,
I could not sleep for't; Ha, ha, ha, ha.
Another good jest quickly, while 'tis hot now;
Let me not laugh in vaine: ply me, O ply me,
As you will answer't to my Cozen Duke.

Bas.
Alas, who has a good jest?

Pas.
I fall, I dwindle in't.

Bas.
Ten Crowns for a good jest: ha' you a good jest, sir?

Enter Servant.
Serv.
A pretty morall one.

Bas.
Let's ha't, what ere it be.

Ser.
There comes a Cupid
Drawne by six fooles.

Bas.
That's nothing.

Pas.
Help it, help it then.

Bas.
I ha' known six hundred fooles drawn by a Cupid.

Pas.
I that, that, that's the smarter Morall: ha, ha, ha.
Now I begin to be Song-ripe methinks.

Bas.
Ile sing you a pleasant aire, sir, before you ebb.

Song.
Pas.
Oh how my Lungs doe tickle? ha, ha, ha.

Bas.
Oh how my Lungs doe tickle? oh, oh, ho, ho.

Pas.
Sings.
Set a sharp Jest
Against my breast,
Then how my Lungs doe tickle?
As Nightingales,
And things in Cambrick railes,
Sing best against a prickle,
Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Bas.
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ha.

Pas.
Laugh.

Bas.
Laugh.

Pas.
Laugh.

Bas.
Laugh.

Pas.
Wide.

Bas.
Loud.

Pas.
And vary.

Bas.
A smile is for a simpering Novice.

Pas.
One that ne're tasted Caveare,

Bas.
Nor knowes the smack of deare Anchovis.

Pas.
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Bas.
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho.

Pas.
A gigling waiting wench for me,
That shewes her teeth how white they be.

Bas.
A thing not fit for gravitie.
For theirs are foule and hardly three.

Pas.
Ha, ha, ha.

Bas.
Ho, ho, ho.

Pas.
Democritus, thou ancient Fleerer,
Now I misse thy laugh, and ha' since.

Bas.
There you nam'd the famous Geerer,
That ever geer'd in Rome, or Athens.

Pas.
Ha, ha, ha.

Bas.
Ho, ho, ho.

Pas.
How brave lives he that keeps a foole,
Although the rate be deeper?

Pas.
But he that is his owne foole sir,
Does live a great deale cheaper.

Pas.
Sure I shal burst, burst, quite break thou art so witty.

Bas.
'Tis rare to break at Court for that belongs toth' City.

Pas.
Ha, ha, my spleen is almost worne to the last laughter.

Bas.
O keep a corner for a friend, a jest may come hereafter.

Enter Lapet and Clowne, and foure other like fooles, dancing, the Cupid leading, and bearing his Table, and holding it up to Lapet at every strain, and acting the postures.
Lap.

Twinge all now, twinge, I say.

2 Straine.

Sowse upon Souse.

3 Straine.

Douses single.

4 Straine.

Justle sides.

5 Straine.

Knee Belly.

6 Straine.

Kicksee Buttock.

7 Straine.

La.
Downe derry.

Enter Soldier, Shamonts Brother, his sword drawne.
Sol.
Not angry Law, nor doores of Brasse shal keep me
From my wrongs expiation, to thy Bowels,
I returne my disgrace; and after turne
My face to any death that can be sentenc'd.

Base.
Murder, O murder, stop the murderer there—

Lap.
I am glad hee's gone; h'as almost trod my guts out;
Follow him who list for me, Ile ha' no hand in't.

Clo.
Oh 'twas your luck and mine to be squelch'd Mr.
Has stamp'd my very Puddings into Pancakes.

Cup.
O Brothers, oh, I fear 'tis mortall: help, O helpe,
I'me made the wretched'st woman, by this accident,
That ever love beguil'd.

Enter 2. Brothers.
2 Bro.
We are undone Brother,
Our shames are too apparent: Away receptacle
Of Luxury, and dishonour, most unfortunate,
To make thy selfe but luckie to thy spoile,
After thy Sexes manner: lift him up Brother;
He breathes not to our comfort, hee's too wasted
Ever to cheere us more: A Chirurgeon speedily;
Hence; the unhappiest that ere stept aside,
Shee'll be a Mother before shee's known a Bride.

Cup.
Thou hadst a most unfortunate conception,
What ere thou prov'st to be; in midd'st of mirth
Comes ruine, for a welcome, to thy birth.

Exeunt.