University of Virginia Library

Scene 1.

Tipto.
Flie. Iug. Peirce. Iordan. Ferret. Trundle.
I like the plot of your Militia, well!
It is a fine Militia, and well order'd!
And the diuision's neat! 'Twill be desir'd
Only, the'expressions were a little more Spanish:
For there's the best Militia o' the world!
To call 'hem Tertias. Tertia of the kitchin,
The Tertia of the cellar, Tertia of the chamber,
And Tertia of the stables.

Fly.
That I can, Sir,
And find out very able, fit commanders.
In euery Tertia.

Tip.
Now you are i'the right!
As i'the Tertia o'the kitchin, your selfe
Being a person, elegant in sawces,
There to command, as prime Maestro del Campo,
Chiefe Master of the palate, for that Tertia:
Or the Cooke vnder you, 'cause you are the Marshall;
And the next officer i'the field, to the Host.
Then for the cellar, you haue young Anone,
Is a rare fellow, what's his other name?

Fly.
Pierce, Sir.

Tip.
Sir Pierce, I'le ha'him a Caualier.
Sir Pierce Anon, will peirce vs a new hogs-head!
And then your thorow-fare, Iug here, his Alferez:
An able officer, giu'me thy beard, round Iug,
I take thee by this handle, and doe loue
One of thy inches! I'the chambers, Iordan, here!
He is the Don, del Campo o' the beds.
And for the stables, what's his name?

Fly.
old Peck.

Tip.
Maestro del Campo, Peck! his name is curt,
A monosyllabe, but commands the horse well.

Fly.
O, in an Inne, Sir, we haue other horse,
Let those troopes rest a while. Wine is the horse,
That wee must charge with here.

Tip.
Bring vp the troopes,
Or call sweet Fly, 'tis an exact Militia,
And thou an exact professor, Lipsius Fly,
Thou shalt be cal'd, and Iouse: Iack Ferret, welcome,
Old Trench-master, and Colonel o'the Pyoners,
What canst thou bolt vs now? a Coney? or two
Out of Thom: Trundles burrow, here, the Coach?
This is the master of the carriages!
How is thy driuing Thom: good, as twas?

Tru.
It serues my Lady, and our officer Pru.
Twelue mile an houre! Thom has the old trundle still.

Tip.
I am taken with the family, here, fine fellowes?
Viewing the muster roll.

Tru.
They are braue men!

Fer.
And of the Fly blowne discipline all, the Quarter-master!

Tip.
The Fly's a rare bird, in his profession!
Let's sip a priuate pinte with him, I would haue him
Quit this light signe of the light heart, my bird:
And lighter house. It is not for his tall
And growing grauity so Cedar-like,
To be the second to an Host in Cuerpo,
That knowes no elegancies, vse his owne
Dictamen, and his Genius, I would haue him
Flie high, and strike at all. Heer's yong Anone, too.

Pei.
What wine is't Gentlemen, white or claret?

Tip.
White. My briske Anone.

Pei.
I'le draw you Iuno's milke
That died the Lilies, Colonel.

Tip.
Do so Peirce.

Pec.
A plague of all Iades, what a clap he has gi'n me!

Fli.
Why how now Cossen?

Tip.
Who's that?

Fer.
The Hostler.

Fli.
What ayl'st thou Cossen Peck?

Pec.
O me, my hanches!
As sure as you liue, Sir, he knew perfectly
I meant to Cossin him. He did leere so on me,
And then he sneerd. As who would say take heed S'ah,
And when he saw our halfe-pecke, which you know
Was but an old court-dish, Lord how he stamp't!
I thought, 't had beene for ioy. When suddainly
He cuts me a backe caper with his heeles,
And takes me iust o' the crouper. Downe come I
And my whole ounce of oates! Then he neighed out,
As if he had a Mare by the tayle.

Fli.
Troth Cossin,
You are to blame to vse the poore dumbe Christians,
So cruelly, defraud 'hem o'their dimensuns,
Yonder's the Colonels horse (there I look'd in)
Keeping our Ladies Eue! The diuell a bit
He ha's got, sin'e he came in yet! There he stands,
And lookes and lookes, but t'is your pleasure, Cosse,
He should looke leane enough.

Pec.
He ha's hay before him.

Fli.
Yes, but as grosse as hempe, and assoone will choake him,
Vnlesse he eat it butter'd. H' had foure shoes,
And good ones, when he came in: It is a wonder,
With standing still he should cast three.

Pec.
Troth Quarter-Master,
This trade is a kind of mystery, that corrupts
Our standing manners quickely: Once a weeke,
I meet with such a brush to mollifie me.
Sometimes a brace, to awake my Conscience,
Yet still, I sleepe securely.

Fli.
Cossin Peck,
You must vse better dealing, fayth you must.

Pec.
Troth, to giue good example, to my successors,
I could be well content to steale but two girths,
And now and then a saddle cloth, change a bridle,
For exercise: and stay there.

Fli.
If you could
There were some hope, on you, Cosse. But the fate is
You' are drunke so early, you mistake whole Saddles:
Sometimes a horse.

Pec.
I there's—

Fli.
The wine, come Cosse, Ile talk with you anone.

Pec.
Doe, loose no time, good Quarter-Master.

Tip
There are the horse, come, Flie.

Fli.
Charge, in Boyes, in; Lieutenant o'the ordinance.
Tobacco, & pipes.

Tip.
Who's that? Old Iordan, good!
A comely vessell, and a necessary.
New-scour'd he is: Here's to thee, Martiall Fly.
In milke, my yong Anone sayes.

Pei.
Cream o'the grape!
That drop't from Iuno's breasts, and sprung the Lilly!
I can recite your fables, Fly, Here is, too,
The blood of Venus, mother o'the Rose!

Ior.
The dinner is gone vp.

Iug.
I heare the whistle.

Ior.
I, and the fidlers. We must all goe waite.

Pei.
Pox o'this waiting, Quarter Master, Fly.

Fly.
When Chambermaids are soueraignes, waite them Ladie.
Fly scornes to breath.

Pec.
or blow vpon thē, he.

Pei.
Old Parcel Peck! Art thou there? how now? lame?

Pec.
Yes faith: it is ill halting afore criples,
I ha' got a dash of a Iade, here, will stick by me.

Pei.
O you haue had some phant'sie, fellow Peck;
Some reuelation—

Pec.
What?

Pei.
To steale the hay,
Out o'the racks againe:

Fly.
I told him so,
When the ghests backs were turn'd.

Pei.
Or bring his peck
The bottome vpwards, heap'd with oates; and cry.
Here's the best measure vpon all the roade! when
You know the ghest, put in his hand, to feele,
And smell to the oates, that grated all his fingers
Vpo'the wood—

Pec.
Mum!

Pei.
And foūd out your cheat.

Pec.
I ha'bin i'the cellar, Peirce.

Pei.
You were then there,
Vpo' your knees; I doe remember it:
To ha'the fact conceald. I could tell more,
Soping of saddles, cutting of horse tailes,
And cropping—pranks of ale, and hostelry—

Fly.
Which he cannot forget, he sayes, yong Knight:
No more then you can other deeds of darknesse,
Done i'the cellar.

Tip.
Well said, bold professor.

Fer.
We shall ha'some truth explain'd.

Pei.
We are all mortall,
And haue our visions.

Pec.
Truly it seemes to me
That euery horse has his whole peck, and tumbles
Vp to the eares in littour,

Fly.
When, indeed
There's no such matter; not a smell of prouander.

Fer.
Not so much straw as would tie vp a horse-taile!

Fly.
Nor any thing i'the rack, but two old cob-webs!
And so much rotten hay, as had beene a hens nest!

Tru.
And yet he's euer apt to sweepe the mangers!

Fer.
But puts in nothing.

Pei.
These are fits, and fancies,
Which you must leaue, good Peck.

Fly.
And you must pray
It may be reueal'd to you, at some-times,
Whose horse you ought to cosen; with what conscience;
The how; and when; a Parsons horse may suffer—

Pei.
Who's master's double benefic'd; put in that.

Fly.
A little greasing i'the teeth; 'tis wholesome:
And keepes him in a sober shuffle.

Pei.
His saddle too
May want a stirrop.

Fly.
And, it may be sworne,
His learning lay o' one side, and so broke it.

Pec.
They haue euer oates i'their cloake-bags, to affront vs.

Fly.
And therefore 'tis an office meritorious,
To tith such soundly.

Pei.
And a graziers may.

Fer.
O they are pinching puckfists!

Tru.
And suspicious.

Pei.
Suffer before the masters face, sometimes.

Fly.
He shall thinke he sees his horse eate halfe a bushell,

Pei.
When the slight is rubbing his gummes with salt,
Till all the skin come off, he shall but mumble,
Like an old woman that were chewing brawne,
And drop 'hem out againe.

Tip.
Well argued Caualier,

Fly.
It may doe well: and goe for an example:
But Cosse, haue care of vnderstanding horses,
Horses with angry heeles, Nobility horses,
Horses that know the world; let them haue meat
Till their teeth ake; and rubbing till their ribbes
Shine like a wenches forehead: They are Diuels else
Will looke into your dealings.

Pec.
For mine own part
The next I cossen o'the pampred breed,
I wish he may be found'red.

Fli.
Foun-de-red.
Prolate it right.

Pec.
And of all foure, I wish it,
I loue no crouper complements.

Pei.
Whose horse was it?

Pec.
Why, Mr Bursts.

Pei.
Is Bat Burst come?

Pec.
An howre he has beene heere.

Tip.
What Burst?

Pei.
Mas, Bartolmew Burst.
One that hath beene a Citizen, since a Courtier,
And now a Gamester. Hath had all his whirles,
And bouts of fortune, as a man would say,
Once a Bat, and euer a Bat! a Rere-mouse,
And Bird o'twilight, he has broken thrice.

Tip.
Your better man, the Geno'way Prouerbe say's,
Men are not made of steele.

Pei.
Nor are they bound
Alwayes to hold.

Fli.
Thrice honourable Colonel!
Hinges will crack—

Tip.
Though they be Spanish iron

Pei.
He is a merchant still, Aduenturer,
At in, and in: and is our thorough-fares friend.

Tip.
Who? Iugs?

Pei.
The same: and a fine gentleman
Was with him!

Pec.
Mr Huffle.

Pei.
Who? Hodge Huffle?

Ti.
What's he?

Pei.
A cheater, & another fine gentleman
A friend o' the Chamberlaynes! Iordans! Mr Huffle.
He is Bursts protection.

Fli.
Fights, and vapors for him.

Pei.
He will be drunk so ciuilly—

Fli.
So discreetly.

Pei.
And punctually! iust at his houre.

Fli.
And then,
Call for his Iordan, with that hum and state,
As if he piss'd the Politiques!

Pei.
And sup
With his tust-taffata night-geere, heere, so silently!

Fli.
Nothing but Musique!

Pei.
A dozen of bawdy songs.

Tip.
And knowes the Generall this?

Fl.
O, no, Sr. Dormis,
Dormit Patronus, still, the master sleepes.
They'll steale to bed.

Pei.
In priuate Sir, and pay,
The Fidlers with that modesty, next morning.

Fli.
Take a disinne of muscadell, and egges!

Pei.
And packe away i'their trundling cheats, like Gipsies's

Tru.
Mysteries, mysteries, Ferret.

Fer.
I we see, Trundle,
What the great Officers, in an Inne may doe;
I doe not say the Officers of the Crowne
But the light heart.

Tip.
I'le see the Bat, and Huffle.

Fer.
I ha' some busines Sir, I craue your pardon—

Tip.
What?

Fer.
To be sober.

Tip.
Pox, goe get you gone then.
Trundle shall stay.

Tru.
No I besech you Colonel,
Your Lordship ha's a minde to bee drunke priuate,
With these braue Gallants; I will step aside
Into the stables, and salute my Mares.

Pei.
Yes doe: and sleepe with 'hem, let him go-base whip-stocke.
Hee's as drunke as a fish now, almost as dead.

Tip.
Come, I will see the flicker mouse, my Flie.