University of Virginia Library

Scene VII.

Rut. Interest. Item. Needle.
Rut.
'Tis such a Fly, this Gossip, with her buz,
Shee blowes on every thing, in every place!

Int.
A busie woman, is a fearefull grievance!
Will hee not sleepe againe?

Rut.
Yes instantly,
As soone as he is warme. It is the nature
Of the disease, and all these cold dry fumes,
That are melancholicke, to worke at first,
Slow, and insensibly in their ascent,
Till being got up, and then distilling downe
Vpo' the braine; they have a pricking quality
That breeds this restlesse rest, which we, the sonnes
Of Physick, call a walking in the sleepe,
And telling mysteries, that must be heard.
Softly, with art, as we were sowing pillowes
Vnder the Patients elbowes, else they'd fly
Into a phrensie, run into the Woods,
Where there are Noises, huntings, shoutings, hallowings,
Amidst the brakes, and furzes, over bridges
Fall into waters: Scratch their flesh: Sometimes
Drop downe a præcipice, and there be lost.
How now! what does her?

Ite.
He is up againe,
Enter Item.
And 'gins to talke.

Int.
O' the former matter, Item?

Ite.
The treasure, and the Lady: That's his argument.

Int.
O mee, happy man! he cannot off it.
I shall know all then.

Rut.
With what appetite
Our owne desires delude us! Heare you Tim?
Let no man interrupt us.

Ite.
Sir Diaphanous,
And Mr. Bias, his Court-friend's, desire
To kisse his Neices hands, and gratulate
The firme recovery of her good fame,
And honour—

Int.
Good, say to 'hem, Mr. Item,
My Neice is on my Ladies side: they'll find her there.
I pray to be but spar'd, for halfe an houre:
Ile see 'hem presently.

Rut.
Doe, put 'hem off, Tim.
And tell 'hem the importance of the busines.
Here, he is come! sooth; and have all out of him.

Nee.
How doe you Lady-bird? so hard at worke, still?
What's that you say? Doe you bid me walke, sweet Bird?
And tell our Knight? I will. How? walke knave, walke?
I thinke y' are angry with me

Pol.
Fine Pol!
Pol's a fine bird! O fine Lady Pol!
Almond for Parrat; Parrat's a brave bird:
Three hundred thousand peeces ha' you stuck,
Edge-long into the ground, within the Garden?
O' bounteous Bird!

Int.
And me, most happy creature.

Rut.
Smother your joy.

Nee.
How? and drop'd twice so many—

Int.
Ha! where?

Rut.
Containe your selfe.

Nee.
I' the old Well?

Int.
I cannot, I am a man of flesh, and blood:
Who can containe himselfe, to heare the Ghost
Of a dead Lady, doe such workes as these?
And a Citie Lady too, o' the streight waste?

Rut.
Hee's gone.

Nee.
I will goe try the truth of it.

Rut.
Follow him, Tim: See what he does; if he bring you
A 'ssay of it now.

Int.
Ile say hee's a rare fellow:
And has a rare disease.

Rut.
And I will worke
As rare a cure upon him.

Int.
How, good Doctor?

Rut.
When he hath utter'd all, that you would know of him;
Ile clense him with a pill (as small as a pease)
And stop his mouth: for there his issue lies,
Betweene the Muscles o' the tongue.

Int.
Hee's come.

Rut.
What did he, Item?

Ite.
The first step he stept
Into the Garden, he pull'd these five peices
Vp, in a fingers bredth one of another.
The durt sticks on 'hem still.

Int.
I know enough.
Doctor, proceed with your Cure, Ile make thee famous,
Famous among the sonnes of the Physicians,
Machaon, Podalirius, Esculapius.
Thou shalt have a golden beard, as well as he had;
And thy Tim Item here, have one of silver:
A livery beard. And all thy 'Pothecaries
Belong to thee. Where's Squire Needle? gone?

Ite.
Hee's prick'd away, now he has done the worke.

Rut.
Prepare his pill, and gi' it him afore Supper.

Int.
Ile send for a dozen o' labourers to morrow,
To turne the surface o' the Garden up.

Rut.
In mould? bruise every clod?

Int.
And have all fifted;
For Ile not loose a peice o' the Birds bounty,
And take an Inventory of all.

Rut.
And then,
I would goe downe into the Well—

Int.
My selfe;
No trusting other hands: Sixe hundred thousand,
To the first three; nine hundred thousand pound—

Rut.
'Twill purchase the whole Bench of Aldermanity,
Stript to their shirts.

Int.
There never did accrew,
So great a gift to man, and from a Lady,
I never saw but once; now I remember,
Wee met at Merchants-Taylors-hall, at dinner,
In Thred-needle street,

Rut.
Which was a signe Squire Needle
Should have the thredding of this thred.

Int.
'Tis true;
I shall love Parrots better, while I know him.

Rut.
Il'd have her statue cut, now in white marble.

Int.
And have it painted in most orient colours.

Rut.
That's right! all Citie statues must be painted:
Else, they be worth nought i' their subtile Judgements.