 | A Pleasant Comedy, Called :The Case is Altered |  |
Scæna prima.
Sound? after a flourish: Iuniper a Cobler is discouered, sitting at worke in his shoppe and singing.Iuniper, Onion, Antony Baladino.
Yov wofull wights giue eare a while,
And marke the tenor of my stile,
Enter Onion in hast.
Which shall such trembling hearts vnfold
As seldome hath to fore bene told.
Such chances rare and dolefull newes
Oni.
fellow Iuniper
Peace a Gods name.
As may attempt your wits to muse.
Oni.
Gods so, heere man.
A pox a God on you.
And cause such trickling teares to passe,
Except your hearts be flint or brasse:
Oni.
Iuniper, Iuniper.
To heare the newes which I shall tell,
That in Castella once befell.
Sbloud, where didst thou learne to corrupt a man in the midst
of a verse, ha?
Onion.
Gods lid man, seruice is ready to go vp man, you
must slip on your coate and come in, we lacke waiters pittyfully.
Iunip.
A pittifull hearing, for now must I of a merry Cobler
become mourning creature.
Exit Onion.
Onion.
Well youle come.
Iunip.
Presto. Go to, a word to the wise, away, flie? vanish:
Lye there the weedes that I disdaine to weare.
God saue you Maister Iuniper.
Iuni.
What Signior Antonio Balladino, welcome sweet Ingle:
Anto.
And how do you sir?
Iuni.
Faith you see, put to my shifts here as poore retainers
be oftentimes, sirrah Antony ther's one of my fellowes mightely
enamored of thee, and I faith you slaue, now your come I'le
bring you together, i'ts Peter Onion, the groome of the hal, do
you know him.
Anto.
No not yet, I assure you.
Iuni.
O he is one as right of thy humour as may be, a plaine
simple Rascal, a true dunce, marry he hath bene a notable vilaine
in his time: he is in loue, sirrah, with a wench, & I haue preferd
thee to him, thou shalt make him some prety Paradox or some
Aligory, how does my coate sit? well.
Anto.
I very well.
Enter Onion.
Oni.
Na Gods so, fellow Iuniper, come away.
Iun.
Art thou there mad slaue, I come with a powder?
Sirrah fellow Onion. I must haue you peruse this Gentleman
well, and doe him good offices of respect and kindnesse, as instance
shall be giuen.
Anto.
Nay good maister Onion what do you meane, I pray
you sir you are to respectuc in good faith.
Onion.
I would not you should thinke so sir, for though I
haue no learning, yet I honour a scholer in any ground of the
earth sir,
Anto.
My name is Antonio Balladino.
Oni.
Balladino? you are not Pageant Poet to the City of Millaine
sir, are you.
Anto.
I supply the place sir: when aworse cannot be had sir.
Oni.
I crie you mercy sir, I loue you the better for that sir, by
Iesu you must pardon me, I knew you not, but Il'd pray to be
better acquainted with you sir, I haue seene of your works.
Anto.
I am at your seruice good Maister Onion, but concerning
this maiden that you loue sir? what is she,
Onion.
O did my fellow Iuniper tell you? marry sir, she is
owne part I am no Gentleman borne I must confesse, but my
mind to me a kingdome is truly.
Anto.
Truly a very good saying.
Onion.
T'is somewhat stale, but that's no matter.
Anto.
O t'is the better, such things euer are like bread, which
the staler it is, the more holesome.
Onion.
This is but a hungry comparison in my iudgement.
Anto.
Why, I'le tell you, M. Onion, I do vse as much stale
stuffe, though I say it my selfe, as any man does in that kind I
am sure. Did you see the last Pageant, I set forth?
Onion.
No faith sir, but there goes a huge report on't.
Anto.
Why, you shal be one of my Mæcen-asses, I'le giue you
one of the bookes, O you'le like it admirably.
Oni.
Nay that's certaine, I'le get my fellow Iuniper to read it.
Anto.
Reade it sir, I'le reade it to you.
Onion.
Tut then I shall not chuse but like it.
Anto.
Why looke you sir, I write so plaine, and keepe that
old Decorum, that you must of necessitie like it; mary you shall
haue some now (as for example, in plaies) that will haue euery
day new trickes, and write you nothing but humours: indeede
this pleases the Gentlemen: but the common sort they
care not for't, they know not what to make on't, they looke
for good matter, they, and are not edified with such toyes.
Onion.
You are in the right, I'le not giue a halfepeny to see
a thousand on'hem. I was at one the last Tearme, but & euer
I see a more roguish thing, I am a peece of cheese, & no onion,
nothing but kings & princes in it, the foole came not out a iot.
Anto.
True sir, they would haue me make such plaies, but as
I tell them, and they'le giue me twenty pound a play, I'le not
raise my vaine.
Onion.
No, it were a vaine thing, and you should sir.
Anto.
Tut giue me the penny, giue me the peny, I care not
for the Gentlemen I, lerme haue a good ground, no matter for
the pen, the plot shall carry it.
Onion.
Indeed that's right, you are in print already for the
Anto.
I, I might as well ha bene put in for a dumb shew too.
Oni.
I marry sir, I marle you were not, stand aside sir a while:
Enter an armd Sewer: some halfe dozen in mourning coates following and passe by with seruice.
Enter Valentine.
Onion.
How now friend, what are you there? be vncouered,
Would you speake with any man here?
Valen.
I, or else I must ha' returnd you no answer.
Oni.
Friend, you are somewhat to peremptory, let's craue
your absence: nay neuer scorne it, I am a little your better in
this place.
Valen.
I do acknowledge it.
Onion.
Do you acknowledge it? nay then you shall go
forth, Ile teach you how shall acknowledge it another time;
go to, void, I must haue the hall purg'd, no setting vp of a
rest here, packe, begone.
Valen.
I pray you sir is not your name Onion?
Oni.
Your friend as you may vse him, and M. Onion, say on.
Valen.
M. Onion with a murraine, come come put off this
Lyons hide, your eares haue discouered you, why Peter! do
not I know you Peter?
Onion.
Gods so, Valentine!
Valen.
O can you take knowledge of me now sir?
Oni.
Good Lord, sirra, how thou art altred with thy trauell?
Valen.
Nothing so much as thou art with thine office, but
sirra, Onion is the Count Ferneze at home?
Exit Anthony.
Oni.
I Bully, he is aboue; and the Lord Paulo Ferneze, his
son, and Maddam Aurelia, & maddam Phænixella, his daughters,
But O Valentine?
Valen.
How now man, how dost thou?
Oni.
Faith sad, heauy, as a man of my coate ought to be.
Valen.
Why man, thou wert merry inough euen now.
Oni.
True, but thou knowest
All creatures here soiorning, vpon this wretched earth,
Sometimes have a fit of mourning, as well as a fit of mirth,
O Valentine, mine old Lady is dead, man.
Valen.
Dead!
I faith.
Valen.
When dyed she?
Onion.
Mary, to morrow shall be three months, she was
seene going to heauen they say, about some fiue weekes agone!
how now? trickling teares, ha?
Valen.
Faith thou hast made me weepe with this newes.
Onion.
Why I haue done but the parte of an Onion, you
must pardon me.
| A Pleasant Comedy, Called :The Case is Altered | |