University of Virginia Library

Scene. 5.

Tipto.
Host. Flie. L. Bea. L. Lati.
Come Quarter-master Fly.

Hos.
Here's one, already,
Hath got his Titles.

Tip.
Doctor!

Fly.
Noble Colonel!
No Doctor, yet. A poore professor of ceremony,
Here i'the Inne, retainer to the host,
I discipline the house.

Tip.
Thou read'st a lecture.
Vnto the family here, when is the day?

Fli.
This is the day.

Tip.
I'le heare thee, and I'le ha'thee a Doctour,
Thou shalt be one, thou hast a Doctors looke!
A face disputatiue, of Salamanca.

Hos.
Who's this?

Lat.
The glorious Colonel Tipto, Host,

Bea.
One talkes vpon his tiptoes, if you'l heare him.

Tip.
Thou hast good learning in thee, macte Fly.

Fly.
And I say macte, to my Colonel.

Host.
Well macted of 'hem both.

Bea.
They are match'd i'faith.

Tip.
But Fly, why macte?

Fly.
Quasi magis anite,
My honourable Colonel.

Tip.
What a Critique?

Host.
There's another accession, Critique Fly.

Lat.
I feare a taynt here i'the Mathematiques.
They say, lines paralell doe neuer meet;
He has met his parallel in wit, and schole-craft.

Bea.
They side, not meet man, mend your metaphor,
And saue the credit of your Mathematiques:

Tip.
But Fly, how cam'st thou to be here, committed
Vnto this Inne?

Fly,
Vpon suspicion o'drinke, Sir,
I was taken late one night, here, with the Tapster,
And the vnder-officers, and so deposited.

Tip.
I will redeeme thee, Fly, and place thee better,
With a faire Lady.

Fly.
A Lady, sweet Sir Glorious!

Tip.
A Sou'raigne Lady. Thou shalt be the Bird
To Soueraigne Pru, Queene of our sports, her Fly,
The Fly in houshold, and in ordinary;
Bird of her eare, and she shall weare thee there!
A Fly of gold, enamel'd, and a schoole-Fly.

Host.
The schoole, then are my stables, or the cellar,
VVhere he doth study, deepely, at his houres,
Cases of cups, I doe not know how spic'd
VVith conscience, for the Tapster; and the Hostler: as
VVhose horses may be cossen'd? or what Iugs
Fil'd vp with froth? that is his way of learning.

Tip.
VVhat antiquated Fether's that, that talkes?

Fly.
The worshipfull host, my patron, Mr. Good-stock:
A merry Greke, and cants in Latine, comely,
Spins like the parish top.

Tip.
I'le set him vp, then.
Art thou the Dominus?

Host.
Fac-totum here, Sir.

Tip.
Host reall o'the house? and Cap of Maintenance?

Host.
The Lord o'the light Heart, Sir, Cap a pie;
VVhere of the Fether is the Embleme, Colonel,
Put vp, with the Ace of Hearts!

Tip.
But why in Cuerpo?
I hate to see an host, and old, in Cuerpo.

Host.
Cuerpo? what's that?

Tip.
Light, skipping hose and doublet.
The horse boyes garbe! poore blank, and halfe blank Cuerpo,
They relish not the grauity of an host,
VVho should be King at Armes, and ceremonies,
In his owne house! know all, to the goldweights.

Bea.
VVhy that his Fly doth for him here, your Bird.

Tip.
But I would doe it my selfe, were I my Host,
I would not speake vnto a Cooke of quality,
Your Lordships footman, or my Ladies Trundle,
In Cuerpo! If a Dog but stay'd below
That were a dog of fashion, and well nos'd,
And could present himselfe; I would put on
The Savoy chaine about my neck; the ruffe;
And cuffes of Flanders; then the Naples hat;
VVith the Rome hatband; and the Florentine Agate;
The Millan sword; the cloake of Genoa; set
With Brabant buttons; all my giuen pieces:
Except my gloues, the natiues of Madrid,
To entertaine him in! and complement
With a tame cony, as with a Prince that sent it.

Hos.
The same deeds, though, become not euery man,
That fits a Colonel, will not fit an host,

Tip.
Your Spanish host is neuer seen in Cuerpo,
Without his Paramento's cloake, & sword.

Fli.
Sir he has the father
Of swords, within a long sword; Blade cornish stil'd
Of Sir Rud Hughdibras.

Tip.
And with a long sword, bully bird? thy sence?

Fli.
To note him a tall-man, and a Master of fence:

Tip.
But doth he teach the Spanish way of Don Lewis?

Fli.
No, the Greeke Master he.

Tip.
what cal you him?

Fli.
Euclide.

Tip.
Fart vpon Euclide, he is stale, & antique,
Gi'me the modernes.

Fli.
Sir he minds no modernes,
Go by, Hieronymo!

Tip.
What was he?

Fli.
The Italian,
That plaid with Abbot Antony, i'the Friars,
And Blinkin-sops the bold.

Tip.
I mary, those,
Had fencing names, what's become o'them?

Hos.
They had their times, and we can say, they were.
So had Caranza-his: so had Don Lewis.

Tip.
Don Lewis of Madrid, is the sole Master
Now, of the world.

Hos.
But this, o'the other world
Euclide demonstrates! he! Hee's for all!
The only fencer of name, now in Elysium.

Fli.
He do's it all, by lines, and angles, Colonel.
By parallels, and sections, has his Diagrammes!

Bea.
Wilt thou be flying, Fly?

Lat.
At all, why not?
The ayre's as free for a fly, as for an Eagle.

Bea
A Buzzard! he is in his contemplation!

Tip.
Euclide a fencer, and in the Elysium!

Hos.
He play'd a prize, last weeke, with Archimedes,
And beate him I assure you.

Tip.
Doe you assure me?
For what?

Hos.
For foure i'the hundred. Gi'me fiue,
And I assure you, againe.

Tip.
Host, Peremptory,
You may be tane, But where? whence had you this?

Hos.
Vpo' the road, A post, that came from thence,
Three dayes agoe, here, left it with the Tapster.

Fli.
Who is indeede a thorough fare of newes,
Iack Iug with the broken belly, a witty fellow!

Hos.
Your Bird here heard him.

Tip.
Did you heare him Bird?

Hos.
Speake i'the faith of a flie.

Fli.
Yes, and he told vs,
Of one that was the Prince of Oranges fencer,

Tip.
Steuinus?

Fli.
Sir the same, had challeng'd Euclide
A thirty weapons more then Archimedes
Ere saw; and engines: most of his owne Inuention:

Tip.
This may haue credit, and chimes reason, this!
If any man endanger Euclide, Bird,
Obserue, that had the honor to quit Europe
This forty yeare, tis he. He put downe Scaliger.

Fli.
And he was a great Master.

Bea.
Not of fence, Fly.

Tip.
Excuse him, Lord, he went o'the same grounds.

Bea.
On the same earth I thinke, with other Mortals?

Tip.
I meane, sweete Lord, the Mathematiques. Basta!
When thou know'st more, thou wilt take lesse, greene honor.
He had his circles, semicircles, quadrants—

Fli.
He writ a booke o' the quadrature o'the Circle,

Tip.
Cyclometria, I read—

Bea.
The title onely.

Lat.
And Indice.

Bea.
If it had one of that quare
What insolent, halfe-witted things, these are?

Lat.
So are all smatterers, insolent, and impudent.

Bea.
They lightly go together.

Lat.
T'is my wonder!
Two animals should hawke at all discourse thus!
Flie euery subiect to the Marke, or retriue—

Bea.
And neuer ha' the lucke to be i'the right!

Lat.
T'is some folkes fortune!

Bea.
Fortune's a Bawd,
And a blind Begger: 'tis their vanity!
And shewes most vilely!

Tip.
I could take the heart now.
To write vnto Don Lewis, into Spaine,
To make a progresse to the Elysian fields,
Next summer—

Bea.
And perswade him die for fame,
Of fencing with a shadow! Where's mine Host?
I would he had heard this buble breake, i'fayth.