University of Virginia Library

Scene. 5.

Letoy, Blaze.
Let.
Why broughtst thou not mine Armes, and Pedegree
Home with thee Blaze, mine honest Heralds, Painter?

Bla.
I have not yet my Lord, but all's in readinesse,
According to the Heralds full directions.

Let.
But has he gone to the root, has he deriv'd me,
Ex origine, ab antiquo? has he fetch'd me
Farre enough Blaze?

Bla.
Full foure descents beyond
The conquest my good Lord, and findes that one
Of your French ancestry came in with the conqueror.

Let.
Iefrey Letoy, twas he, from whom the English
Letoy's have our descent; and here have tooke
Such footing, that we'll never out while France
Is France, and England England,
And the Sea passable to transport a fashion.
My ancestors and I have beene beginners
Of all new fashions in the Court of England
From before Primo Ricardi Secundi
Untill this day.

Bla.
I cannot thinke my Lord
They'll follow you in this though.

Let.
Marke the end,
I am without a precedent for my humour.
But is it spread, and talk'd of in the towne?

Bla.
It is my Lord, and laught at by a many.
I am more beholding to them, then all the rest:
Their laughter makes me merry; others mirth,
And not mine owne it is, that feeds me that
Battens me as poore mens cost do's Usurers.
But tell me Blaze, what say they of me, ha?

Bla.
They say my Lord you looke more like a pedlar,
Then like a Lord, and live more like an Emperor.

Let.
Why there they ha' me right, let others shine
Abroad in cloth o' bodkin, my broad cloath,
Pleases mine eye as well, my body better,
Besides I'm sure tis paid for (to their envy)
I buy with ready money: and at home here
With as good meat, as much magnificence,
As costly pleasures, and as rare delights,
Can satisfie my appetite and senses,
As they with all their publique shewes, and braveries.
They runne at ring, and tilt 'gainst one another,
I and my men can play a match at football,
Wrastle a hansome fall, and pitch the barre,
And crack the cudgells, and a pate sometimes,
Twould doe you good to see't.

Bla.
More then to feel't.

Let.
They hunt the Deere, the Hare, the Fox, the Otter,
Polcates, or Harlots, what they please, whilst I
And my mad Grigs, my men can runne at base,
And breath our selves at Barly-breake, and dancing.

Bla.
Yes my Lord i'th countrey when you are there.

Let.
And now I am here i'th city, Sir, I hope
I please my selfe with more choyse home delights,
Then most men of my ranke.

Bla.
I know my Lord
Your house in substance is an Amphitheater
Of exercise and pleasure.

Let.
Sir, I have
For exercises, Fencing, Dancing, Vaulting,
And for delight, Musique of all best kindes:
Stage-playes, and Masques, are nightly my pastimes,
And all within my selfe. My owne men are
My Musique, and my Actors. J keepe not
A man or boy but is of quality:
The worst can sing or play his part o'th' Violls,
And act his part too in a Comedy,
For which I lay my bravery on their backs;
And where another Lord undoes his followers,
J maintaine mine like Lords. And there's my bravery.
Hoboyes. A service as for dinner, passe over the Stage, borne by many Servitors richly apparreld, doing honor to Letoy as they passe.
Ex.
Now tell me Blaze, looke these like Pedlers men?

Bla.
Rather an Emperors my Lord.

Let.
I tell thee,
These lads can act the Emperors lives all over,
And Shakespeares Chronicled histories, to boot,
And were that Cæsar, or that English Earle,
That lov'd a Play and Player so well now living,
I would not be out-vyed in my delights.

Bla.
My Lord tis well.

Let.
I love the quality of Playing I, J love a Play withall
My heart, a good one; and a Player that is
A good one too, with all my heart: As for the Poets,
No men love them, I thinke, and therefore
I write all my playes my selfe, and make no doubt
Some of the Court will follow
Me in that too. Let my fine Lords
Talke o' their Horse-tricks, and their Jockies, that
Can out-talke them. Let the Gallants boast
Their May-games, Play-games, and their Mistresses,
I love a Play in my plaine cloaths, I,
And laugh upon the Actors in their brave ones.

Ent. Quailp.
Re.
My Lord, your dinner stayes prepar'd.

Let.
Well, well,
Be you as ready with your grace as I
Ex. Quail.
Am for my meate, and all is well. Blaze we have rambled
From the maine poynt this while, it seems by his letter,
My Doctor's busie at thy house. I know who's there,
Beside, give him this Ring, Tell him it wants
A finger: farewell good Blaze.

Bla.
Tell him it wants a finger! My small wit,
Already finds what finger it must fit.