University of Virginia Library

Scæna secunda.

Enter Petillius.
Petill.
What do I ail, i'th' name of heaven? I did but see her,
and see her die: she stinks by this time strongly,
abominably stinks: she was a woman,
a thing I never car'd for: but to die so,
so confidently, bravely, strongly; O the devil,
I have the bots, by—;she scorn'd us, strangely,
all we could do, or durst do; threatned us
with such a noble anger, and so governed
with such a fiery spirit—; the plain bots;
a—upon the bots, the love-bots: hang me,
hang me even out o'th' way, directly hang me.
O pennie pipers, and most painful penners
of bountiful new ballads, what a subject,
what a sweet subject for your silver sounds,
is crept upon ye?

Enter Junius.
Jun.
Here he is; have at him.
Sings.

Petill.
Well, gramercie, how dost thou? h' as found me,
sented me out: the shame the devil ow'd me,
h' as kept his day with. And what news, Junius?

Jun.
It was an old tale ten thousand times told,
of a young Lady was turn'd into mold,
her life was lovely, her death it was bold.

Petill.
A cruel rogue; now h' as drawn pursue on me,
he hunts me like a devil. No more singing;
thou hast got a cold: come, let's go drink some Sack, boy.

Jun.
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Petill.
Why dost thou laugh?
what Mares nest hast thou found?

Jun.
Ha, ha, ha.
I cannot laugh alone: Decius, Demetrius,
Curius: O my sides. Ha, ha, ha, ha,
the strangest jest.

Petill.
Prethee no more.

Jun.
The admirablest fooling.

Petill.
Thou art the prettiest fellow.

Jun.
Sirs.

Petill.
Why Junius,
prethee away, sweet Junius.

Jun.
Let me sing then.

Petill.
Whoa, here's a stir now: sing a song o'six pence,
by—(if) prethee;—on't: Junius.

Jun.
I must either sing, or laugh.

Petill.
And what's your reason?

Jun.
What's that to you?

Petill.
And I must whistle.

Jun.
Do so.
O, I hear 'em coming.

Petill.
I have a little businesse.

Jun.
Thou shalt not go, believe it: what a Gentleman
of thy sweet conversation?

Petill.
Captain Junius,
sweet Captain, let me go with all celerity;
things are not always one: and do not question,
nor jeer, nor gybe: none of your doleful ditties,
nor your sweet conversation: you will finde then
I may be anger'd.

Jun.
By no means, Petillius;
anger a man that never knew passion?
'tis most impossible: a noble Captain,
a wise and generous Gentleman?

Pet.
Tom puppie,
leave this way to abuse me: I have found ye,
but for your mothers sake I will forgive ye.
Your subtil understanding may discover
(as you think) some trim toy to make you merry;
some straw to tickle ye; but do not trust to't;
y' are a young man, and may do well; be sober;
carry your self discreetly.

Enter Decius, Demetrius, Curius.
Jun.
Yes forsooth.

Dem.
How does the brave Petillius?

Jun.
Monstrous merry:
we two were talking what a kinde of thing
I was when I was in love; what a strange monster
for little boys and girls to wonder at;
how like a fool I lookt.

Dec.
So they do all,
like great dull slavering fools.

Jun.
Petillius saw too.

Pet.
No more of this; 'tis scurvie: peace.

Jun.
How nastily,
indeed how beastly all I did became me?
how I forgot to blow my nose? there he stands,
an honest and a wise man; if himself
(I dare a vouch it boldly, for I know it)
should finde himself in love—

Petill.
I am angry.

Jun.
Surely his wise self would hang his beastly self,
his understanding self so mawl his asse-self—

Dec.
He's bound to do it; for he knows the follies,
the poverties, and basenesse that belongs to't,
h' as read upon the reformations long.

Petill.
He has so.

Jun.
'T is true, and he must do't:
nor is it fit indeed any such coward—

Petill.
You'll leave prating.

Jun.
Should dare come neer the Regiments, specially
those curious puppies (for believe there are such)
that onely love behaviours: those are dog-whelps,
dwindle away, because a woman dies well;
commit with passions onely: fornicate
with the free spirit meerly: you, Petillius,
for you have long observ'd the world.

Petill.
Dost thou hear?
I'll beat thee damnably within these three hours:
go pray; may be I'll kill thee. Farewel, Jack daws.

Exit.
Dec.
What a strange thing he's grown?

Jun.
I am glad he is so:
and stranger he shall be, before I leave him.

Cur.
Is't possible her meer death—

Jun.
I observ'd him,
and found him taken, infinitely taken
with her bravery: I have follow'd him,
and seen him kisse his sword since, court his scabbard,
call dying, dainty deer; her brave minde, mistris;
casting a thousand ways, to give those forms,
that he might lie with 'em, and get old Armors:
he had got me o'th' hip once: it shall go hard, friends,
but he shall find his own coin.

Enter Macer.
Dec.
How now Macer?
is Judas yet come in?

Enter Judas.
Mac.
Yes, and has lost
most of his men too. Here he is.

Cur.
What news?

Jud.
I have lodg'd him; rouze him he that dares.

Dem.
Where, Judas?

Jud.
On a steep rock, i'th' woods, the boy too with him,
and there he swears he will keep his Christmas, Gentlemen,
but he will come away with full conditions,
bravely, and like a Britain: he paid part of us,
yet I think we fought bravely: for mine own part,
I was four several times at half sword with him,
twice stood his partizan: but the plain truth is,
he 's a meer devil, and no man: i'th' end he swing'd us,
and swing'd us soundly too: he fights by With-craft:
yet for all that I see him lodg'd,

Jun.
Take more men,
and scout him round. Macer, march you along.
What victuals has he?

Jud.
Not a piece of Bisket,
not so much as will stop a tooth; nor water,
more then they make themselves: they lie
just like a brace of bear-whelps, close, and crafty,
sucking their fingers for their food.

Dec.
Cut off then
all hope of that way: take sufficient forces.

Jun.
But use no foul play, on your lives: that man
that does him mischief by deceit, I'll kill him.

Macer.
He shall have fair play, he deserves it.

Jud.
Heark ye,
what should I do there then? you are brave Captains,
most valiant men; go up your selves; use vertue,
see what will come on't: pray the Gentleman
to come down, and be taken. Ye all know him,
I think ye have felt him too: there ye shall finde him,
his sword by his side, plums of a pound weight by him
will make your chops ake: you'll finde it a more labour
to win him living, then climbing of a Crowes nest.

Dec.
Away, and compasse him; we shall come up
I am sure within these two hours. Watch him close.

Macer.
He shall flee thorow the air, if he escape us.

A sad noise within.
Jun.
What's this loud lamentation?

Mac.
The dead body
of the great Penyus is new come to th'Camp Sir.

Dem.
Dead!

Macer.
By himself, they say.

Jun.
I fear'd that fortune.

Cur.
Peace guide him up to heaven.

Jun.
Away good Macer.

Exeunt Macer and Judas.
Enter Swetonius, Drusus, Regulus, Petillius.
Swet.
If thou be'st guilty,
some sullen plague thou hat'st most light upon thee:
the Regiment return on Junius,
hee well deserves it.

Petill.
So.

Swet.
Draw out three Companies,
yours Decius, Junius, and thou Petillius,
and make up instantly to Caratach,
he's in the wood before ye; we shall follow
after due ceremony done to the dead,
the noble dead: Come, let's go burn the body.

Exeunt all but Petillius.
Petill.
The Regiment given from me; disgrac'd openly;
in love too with a trifle to abuse me?
A merry world, a fine world: serv'd seven yeers
to be an asle o' both sides, sweet Petillius,
you have brought your hogs to a fine market: you are wise, Sir,
your honourable brain-pan full of crotchets,
an understanding Gentleman; your projects
cast with assurance ever: wouldst not thou now
be bang'd about the pate, Petillius?
answer to that sweet souldier; surely, surely,
I think ye would; pull'd by the nose, kick'd; hang thee,
thou art the arrant'st rascall: trust thy wisdome
with any thing of weight; the winde with feathers.
Out ye blind puppie; you command? you govern?
dig for a groat a day, or serve a swine-herd;
too noble for thy nature too. I must up;
but what I shall do there, let time discover.

Exit.