 | Timon |  |
Scen: 2d a.
Enter Laches & Hermogenes wt h. a guilt Rapier.Lach:
My face I haue disfigur[e]d that vnknowne
I may againe be plac'd in Timons howse
26
A Resolute hackster wt h. his scarrs & sword
My wiskers hanging o're the ouerlipp
All things agree .. hoi! what a spunge comes here:
how spruse he is: whom see I? the ffidler
that gaue me such a box: the very same.
Hemo:
What man would saye that I am a fidler?
I Hermogenes? where are my rent shoes?
torne raggs? my ffidle? what this? my fiddle case
he lookes on his Rapier
Good people doe I wake, or doe I sleepe?
I cannot thinck my selfe Hermogenes;
La:
I'le make thee feele thy selfe Hermogenes
he beats him & hoodwincks him.
Her:
Oh, Oh, why do'st thou beate me soe? why? why?
Do'st thou thus hoodwinck me, lett me not lyue
If that I am Hermogenes. The gods
I call to Wytnes, I n'ere wrong'd any
what do'st thou? I was borne, this day, this day
I ffirst saw light.
La:
My name is Nemesis
Her:
O Sweete, sweete Nemesis, what w[h]ould'st thou haue?
Lach:
I am thy euill spyritt.
Herm:
What two of yee
oh spare me good [eui«l*»] euill spyritt.
Lach:
No, No
thou shalt be beate, because thou art a knaue
Herm:
Oh, oh, sweete Nemesis.
Lach:
I'le pluck thie eyes out
Her:
O good ill spiritt doe not soe torment mee
Oh, Oh,
Lach:
Farewell ffidler, ffarewell Hermogenes
Her:
What did he saye ffarewell, I know not well
whether I lyue or noe? t'is well; I breathe
O Ioue, o Sunne, suffer you. this sinne
send Mercury from heauen to helpe me
Blinde I am, altogeather Blynd, I see
Nothing but darke, o heauens, o earth, o seas!
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Good gods from what a deadlie warr scapt I?
Holbeards were charg'd, and swords against me drawen
I wt h. my buckler did receaue the blowes
Her:
Good Souldier pyttie a poore blynd man
Lach:
Who art?
Her:
Nemesis hath pluc't myne eyes out
Lach:
What Nemesis?
Her:
My euill spritt; I am
more blynde then any mole; prythee leade me
to Timons howse.
Lach:
Thou art not blynd some man hath hood winckt thee
Her:
Neuer perswade me I am blynd I knowe
My eyes are out;
Lach:
I will restore thy sight
ffeare nothing, what d'ost thou see as yet? yet?
Her:
O yee Immortall gods! I see, I see.
Well done o Souuldier I gyue the thancks
Lach:
I am not ffedd wt h thancks, what d[']ost thou gyue?
Herm:
Come I will make thee one of Timons howse.
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