University of Virginia Library

Act. 3.

Scæn. 1.

Enter Master, Man, Don John, Captain, with divers Slaves.
Mast.
Come rank your selves, and stand out handsomly.
Now ring the Bell, that they may know my Market.
Stand you two here, you are personable men,
And apt to yeeld good sums, if women cheapen.
Put me that Pig-complexion'd fellow behinde,
He will spoil my sale else, the slave looks like famine:
Sure he was got in a Cheese-press, the whay runs out on's Nose yet.
He will not yeeld above a peck of Oysters,
If I can get a quart of wine in too, ye are gone Sir:
Why sure, thou hadst no father.

Slave.
Sure I know not.

Mast:
No certainly, a March Frog kept thy mother;
Thou art but a monster Paddock. Look who comes, Sirrah.
Exit Man.
And next prepare the Song, and do it lively.
Your tricks too Sirrah; they are ways to catch the buyer,
And if you do 'em well, they'll prove good Dowries.
How now?

Enter Man.
Man.
They come Sir, with their bags full loaden.

Mast.
Reach me my stool. O! here they come:

Enter Doctor, Apothecary, Cuculo, and Citizens.
Cuc.
That's he.
He never fails monethly to sell his slaves here,
He buys 'em presently upon their taking,
And so disperses 'em to every Market.

Mast.
Begin the song, and chaunt it merrily—
Well done.

Doct.
Good morrow.

Mast.
Morrow to you Signiors:

Doct.
We come to look upon your slaves, and buy too,
If we can like the persons, and the prices.

Cuc.
They show fine active fellows.

Mast.
They are no less Sir,
And people of strong labors.

Doct.
That's i'th' proof Sir.

Apo.
Pray what's the price of this Red-bearded fellow?
If his Gall be good, I have certain uses for him.

Mast.
My Sorrel slaves are of a lower price,
Because the colours faint. Fifty Chekeens Sir.

Apo.
What be his vertues?

Mast.
He will poyson Rats,
Make him but angry, and his eyes kill Spiders;
Let him but fasting, spit upon a Tode,
And presently it bursts, and dies; his dreams kill;
He'll run you in a wheel, and draw up water;
But if his Nose drop in't, 'twill kill an army.
When ye have worn him to the Bones with uses,
Thrust him into an Oven, luted well,
Dry him, and beat him, flesh and bone to powder;
And that kills Scabs and Aches of all clymates.

Apo.
Pray at what distance may I talk to him?

Mast.
Give him but Sage and Butter in a morning,
And there's no fear: But keep him from all women,
For there his poyson swells most.

Apo.
I will have him.
Cannot he breed a plague too?

Mast.
Yes, yes, yes.
Feed him with Fogs probatum. Now to you Sir,
Do you like this slave?

Cuc.
Yes, if I like his price well.

Mast.
The price is full an hundred, nothing bated.
Sirrah, sell the Moors there; feel, he's high and lusty,
And of a gamesom nature; bold, and secret,
Apt to win favor of the man that owns him,
By diligence, and duty: Look upon him.

Doct.
Do ye hear Sir?

Mast.
I'll be with you presently.
Mark but his limbs, that slave will cost ye fourscore.
An easie price, turn him about, and view him.
For these two Sir? why they are the finest children,
Twins on my credit sir. Do you see this Boy, sir,
He will run as far from ye in an hour.

Cit.
Will he so sir?

Mast.
Conceive me rightly, if upon an errand,
As any horse you have.

Cit.
What will this Girl do?

Mast.
Sure no harm at all sir,
For she sleeps most an end.

Cit.
An excellent house-wife.
Of what Religion are they?

Mast.
What you will sir,
So there be meat, and drink in't; they'll do little
That shall offend ye; for their chief desire
Is to do nothing at all sir.

Cuc.
A hundred is too much.

Mast.
Not a doit bated,
He's a brave slave; his eye shows activeness,
Fire, and the mettle of a man, dwells in him.
Here's one you shall have.

Cuc.
For what?

Mast.
For nothing,
And thank ye too.

Doct.
What can he do?

Mast.
Why, any thing that's ill,
And never blush at it: He's so true a theef,
That he will steal from himself, and think he has got by it.
He stole out of his Mothers belly, being an Infant,
And from a lousie Nurse he stole his nature;
From a Dog his look, and from an Ape his nimbleness;
He will look in your face, and pick your pockets,
Rob ye the most wise Rat of a Cheese-paring;
There where a Cat will go in, he will follow,
His body has no backbone. In to my company
He stole, for I never bought him, and will steal in to yours,
And ye stay a little longer. Now if any of ye
Be given to the excellent art of lying,
Behold, before ye here the master-piece;
He will out-lie him that taught him, Monsieur Devil,
Offer to swear he has eaten nothing in a twelve moneth,
When his mouth's full of Meat.

Cuc.
Pray keep him, he's a Jewel,
And here's your money for this fellow.

Mast.
He's yours sir?

Cuc.
Come follow me.

Exit with Don John.
Cit.
Twenty Chekeens for these two.

Mast.
For five and twenty take 'em.

Cit.
There's your money;
I'll have 'em, if it be to sing in Cages.

Mast.
Give 'em hard Eggs, you never had such Black birds.

Cit.
Is she a Maid, do'st think?

Mast.
I dare not swear Sir,
She is nine year old, at ten you shall finde few here:

Cit.
A merry fellow, thou say'st true. Come children.

Exit with the Moors.
Doct.
Here tell your money; if his life but answer
His outward promises, I have bought him cheap Sir.

Mast.
Too cheap a conscience, he's a pregnant Knave.
Full of fine thoughts, I warrant him.

Doct.
He's but weak timber'd.

Mast.
'Tis the better,
He will turn Gentleman a great deal sooner.

Doct.
Very weak Legs.

Mast.
Strong as the time allows Sir.

Doct.
What's that fellow?

Mast.
Who this? The finest thing in all the world Sir,
The punctuallest, and the perfitest an English mettle,
But coyn'd in France; your servants servant Sir,
Do you understand that? or your shadows servant.
Will you buy him to carry in a Box! Kiss your hand sirrah;
Let fall your cloak on one shoulder; face to your left hand;
Fether your Hat; slope your Hat; now charge your honor.
What think you of this fellow?

Doct.
Indeed I know not,
I never saw such an Ape before. But hark you,
Are these things serious in his nature?

Mast.
Yes, yes;
Part of his Creed: come do some more devices.
Quarrel a little, and take him for your enemy,
Do it in dumb show. Now observe him nearly.

Doct.
This fellow's mad, stark mad.

Mast.
Believe they are all so.
I have sold a hundred of 'em.

Doct.
A strange Nation:
What may the women be?

Mast.
As mad as they;
And as I have heard for truth, a great deal madder,
Yet you may finde some civil things amongst 'em;
But they are not respected. Nay never wonder,
They have a City Sir, I have been in't,
And therefore dare affirm it; where, if you saw
With what a load of vanity 'tis fraughted,
How like an everlasting Morris-dance it looks;
Nothing but Hobby-horse, and Maid-marrian;
You would start indeed:

Doct.
They are handsom men.

Mast.
Yes: If they would thank their Maker,
And seek no further; but they have new Creators
God Tailor, and God Mercer, a kinde of Jews Sir,
But faln into Idolatry, for they worship
Nothing with so much service, as the Cow-calfs.

Doct.
What do mean you by Cow-calfs?

Mast.
Why their women.
Will you see him do any more tricks?

Doct.
'Tis enough, I thank ye;
But yet I'fl buy him, for the rareness of him.
He may make my princely patient mirth, and that done,
I'll claim him in my study, that at void hours
I may run o'r the story of his Country.

Mast.
His price is forty.

Doct.
Hold, I'll once be foolish,
And buy a lump of levity to laugh at.

Apo.
Will your worship walk?

Doct.
How now Apothecary,
Have you been buying too?

Apo.
A little Sir;
A dose or two of mischief.

Doct.
Fare ye well Sir,
As these prove, we shall look the next wind for ye.

Mast.
I shall be with ye Sir.

Doct.
Who bought this fellow?

2. Cit.
Not I.

Apo.
Nor I.

Doct.
Why do's he follow us then?

Mast.
Did not I tell ye he would steal to ye?

2. Cit.
Sirrah.
You mouldy chops, know your crib, I would wish you,
And get from whence you came.

Slave.
I came from no place.

Doct.
Wilt thou be my fool, for fools they say, will tell truth.

Sla.
Yes, if you will give me leave Sir to abuse you,
For I can do that naturally.

Doct.
And I can beat ye.

Slave.
I should be sorry else, Sir.

Mast.
He looks for that, as duly as his victuals,
And will be extream sick when he is not beaten.
He will be as wanton, when he has a bone broken,
As a Cat in a bowl on the water.

Doct.
You will part with him?

Mast.
To such a friend as you Sir.

Doct.
And without money?

Mast.
Not a peny Signior;
And would he were better for ye.

Doct.
Follow me then,
The Knave may teach me something.

Slave.
Something, that
You dearly may repent, howe'r you scorn me,
The slave may prove your Master.

Doct.
Farewel once more.

Mast.
Farewel, and when the wind serves next, expect me.

Exeunt.
Enter Cuculo, and Don John.
Cuc.
Come Sir, you are mine, Sir, now; you serve a man Sir,
That when you know more, you will finde.

John.
I hope so

Cuc.
What do'st thou hope?

John.
To finde ye a kinde master.

Cuc.
Finde you your self a diligent true servant,
And take the precept of the wise before ye,
And then you may hope Sirrah. Understand:
You serve me. What is me? a man of credit.

John.
Yes Sir.

Cuc.
Of special credit, special office.
Hear first, and understand again, of special office.
A man that nods upon the thing he meets,
And that thing bows.

John.
'Tis fit it should be so Sir.

Cuc.
It shall do so. A man neer all importance.
Do'st thou digest this truly?

John.
I hope I shall Sir.

Cuc.
Besides, thou art to serve a noble Mistress,
Of equal place and trust. Serve usefully,
Serve all with diligence, but her delights,
There make your stop. She is a woman sirrah;
And though a cull'd out vertue, yet a woman
Thou art not troubled with the strength of blood,
And stirring faculties, for she will show a fair one?

John.
As I am a man, I may; but as I am your man,
Your trusty, useful man, those thoughts shall perish.

Cuc:
'Tis apt, and well distinguish'd. The next precept,
And then observe me, you have all your duty:
Keep as thou wouldst keep thine eye-sight, all Wine from her,
All talk of Wine.

John.
Wine is a comfort, Sir.

Cuc.
A Devil, Sir; let her not dream of Wine,
Make her believe there neither is, nor was Wine,
Swear it.

John.
Will you have me lye?

Cuc.
To my end, Sir;
For if one drop of Wine but creep into her,
She is the wisest woman in the world straight,
And all the women in the world together
Are but a whisper to her; a thousand Iron-mills
Can be heard no further then a pair of Nut-crackers:
Keep her from Wine, Wine makes her dangerous.
Fall back; my Lord Don Pedro!

Enter Pedro.
Ped.
Now Mr. Office:
What is the reason that your vigilant greatness,
And your wives wonderful wiseness have lock'd up from me
The way to see my Mistress? whose Dog's dead now,
That you observe these Vigils?

Cuc.
Very well, my Lord;
Belike we observe no law then, nor no order,
Nor feel no power, nor will of him that made 'em,
When State-commands thus slightly are disputed:

Ped.
What State-command? dost thou think any State
Would give thee any thing but Eggs to keep,
Or trust thee with a secret above lousing?

Cuc.
No, no, my Lord I am not passionate,
You cannot work me that way to betray me.
A point there is in't, that you must not see sir,
A secret and a serious point of State too;
And do not urge it further, do not Lord,
It will not take; you deal with them that wink not:
You try'd my wife, alas you thought she was foolish,
Won with an empty word; you have not found it.

Ped.
I have found a pair of Coxcombs, that I am sure on.

Cuc.
Your Lordship may say three; I am not passionate.

Ped.
How's that?

Cuc.
Your Lordship found a faithful Gentlewoman,
Strong, and inscrutable as the Viceroy's heart,
A woman of another making, Lord:
And lest she might partake with womans weakness,
I have purchas'd her a rib to make her perfect,
A rib that will not shrink, nor break i'th' bending:
This trouble we are put to, to prevent things,
Which your good Lordship holds but necessary.

Ped.
A fellow of a handsom and free promise,
And much methinks I am taken with his countenance.
Do you serve this Yeoman, Porter?

Cuc.
Not a word
Basta, your Lordship may discourse your freedom;
He is a slave of State sir, so of silence.

Ped.
You are very punctual State-cut; fare ye well,
I shall find time to fit you too, I fear not.

Exit Pedro.
Cuc.
And I shall fit you Lord; you would be billing;
You are too hot, sweet Lord, too hot: Go you home,
And there observe these lessons I first taught you,
Look to your charge abundantly; be wary,
Trusty and wary: much weight hangs upon me,
Watchful and wary too! this Lord is dangerous,
Take courage and resist; for other uses
Your Mistress will inform ye. Go, be faithful,
And do ye hear? no wine.

John.
I shall observe Sir.

Exeunt.
Enter Doctor and Surgeons:
Doct.
He must take air.

1 Sur.
Sir, under your correction,
The violence of motion may make
His wounds bleed fresh.

2 Sur.
And he hath lost already
Too much blood, in my judgment.

Doct.
I allow that;
But to choak up his spirits in a dark room,
Is far more dangerous. He comes; no questions.

Enter Martino.
Mar.
Certain we have no reason, nor that soul
Created of that pureness books perswade us:
We understand not sure; nor feel that sweetness
That men call Vertues chain to link our actions.
Our imperfections form, and flatter us;
A will to rash and rude things; is our reason,
And that we glory in, that makes us guilty.
Why did I wrong this man, unmanly wrong him,
Unmannerly? He gave me no occasion;
In all my heat how noble was his temper?
And when I had forgot both man and manhood,
With what a gentle bravery did he chide me?
And say he had kill'd me, whither had I travell'd?
Kill'd me in all my rage, oh how it shakes me!
Why didst thou do this, fool? a woman taught me,
The Devil and his Angel woman bid me.
I am a beast, the wildest of all beasts,
And like a beast I make my blood my master:
Farewell, farewell for ever name of Mistress,
Out of my heart I cross thee; love and women
Out of my thoughts.

Doct.
I, now you shew your manhood.

Mar.
Doctor believe me, I have bought my knowledge,
And dearly, Doctor; they are dangerous creatures,
They sting at both ends, Doctor; worthless creatures,
And all their loves and favors end in ruines.

Doct.
To man indeed.

Mar.
Why now thou tak'st me rightly:
What can they shew, or be? what act deserve us
While we have vertue, and pursue her beauties?

Doct.
And yet I have heard
Of many vertuous women.

Mar.
Not many, Doctor, there your reading fails you:
Would there were more, and in their loves less dangers.

Doct.
Love is a noble thing without all doubt sir.

Mar.
Yes, and an excellent to cure the itch.

Ex.
1 Sur.
Strange melancholy!

Doct.
By degrees 'twill lessen,
Provide your things.

2 Sur.
Our care shall not be wanting.

Exeunt.
Enter Leonora and Almira.
Leon.
Good Madam, for your healths sake cleer those clouds up,
That feed upon your beauties like diseases:
Times hand will turn again, and what he ruines
Gently restore, and wipe off all your sorrows
Believe ye are to blame, much to blame Lady;
You tempt his loving care whose eye has numbred
All our afflictions, and the time to cure 'em:
You rather with this torrent choak his mercies
Then gently slide in to his providence.
Sorrows are well allow'd, and sweeten Nature,
Where they express no more then drops on lillies;
But when they fall in storms, they bruise our hopes,
Make us unable (though our comforts meet us)
To hold our heads up: Come, you shall take comfort;
This is a sullen grief becomes condemn'd men,
That feel a weight of sorrow through their souls:
Do but look up: Why so? is not this better
Then hanging down your head still like a Violet,
And dropping out those sweet eyes for a wager?
Pray ye speak a little.

Al.
Pray ye desire no more,
And if ye love me, say no more.

Leon.
How fain
(If I would be as wilful, and partake in't)
Would you destroy your self? how often, Lady,
Ev'n of the same disease have you cur'd me,
And shook me out on't; chid me, tumbled me,
And forc'd my hands thus?

Al.
By these tears no more.

Leo.
You are too prodigal of 'em. Well, I will not,
For though my love bids me transgress your will,
I have a service to your sorrows still.

Exeunt.
Enter Pedro and Don John.
John.
Indeed my Lord, my place is not so neer;
I wait below stairs, and there sit, and wait
Who comes to seek accesses; nor is it fit Sir
My rudeness should intrude so neer their lodgings.

Ped.
Thou maist invent a way, 'tis but a tryal;
But carrying up this Letter, and this token,
And giving 'em discreetly to my Mistress,
The Lady Leonora; there's my Purse,
Or any thing thou wilt ask me: if thou knew'st me,
And what I may be to thee for this courtesie.

John.
Your Lordship speaks so honestly, and freely,
That by my troth I'll venture.

Ped.
I deerly thank thee.

John.
And it shall cost me hard; nay, keep your purse Sir:
For though my bodies bought, my minde was never.
Though I am bound, my courtesies are no slaves.

Ped.
Thou shouldst be truly gentle.

John.
If I were so,
The state I am in, bids you not believe it.
But to the purpose Sir, Give me your Letter,
And next your counsel, for I serve a crafty Mistress.

Ped.
And she must be remov'd, thou wilt else ne'er do it.

John.
I, there's the plague. Think, and I'll think a while too.

Ped.
Her husbands suddenly faln sick.

John.
She cares not
If he were dead, indeed it would do better.

Ped.
Would he were hang'd.

John.
Then she would run for joy, Sir.

Ped.
Some Lady crying out.

John.
She has two already.

Ped.
Her house is a fire.

John.
Let the fool, my husband, quench it.
This will be her answer: This may take, it will sure I
Your Lordship must go presently, and send me
Two or three bottles of your best Greek Wine;
The strongest, and sweetest.

Ped.
Instantly;
But will that do?

Exit Pedro.
John.
Let me alone to work it;
Wine I was charg'd to keep by all means from her,
All secret locks it opens, and all counsels,
That I am sure, and gives men all accesses.
Pray Heaven she be not loving, when she's drunk now;
For drunk she shall be, though my pate pay for it;
She'll turn my stomach then abominably,
She has a most wicked face, and that leud face,
Being a drunken face; what face will there be?
She cannot ravish me. Now if my Master
Should take her so, and know I minister'd,
What will his wisdom do? I hope be drunk too,
And then all's right. Well Lord, to do the service,
Above these Puppit-plays, I keep a life yet.
Here come the executioners: You are welcome,
Give me your load, and tell my Lord, I am at it.

Enter Servant with Bottles.
Serv.
I will sir, speed you sir.

Exit
John.
Good speed on all sides.
'Tis mon-strong, strong Wine: O the yauns that she'll make!
Look to your stern deer Mistress, and steer right,
Here's that will work, as high as the Bay of Portugal:
Stay, let me see; I'll try her by the Nose first,
For if she be a right Sowe, sure she'll finde it.
Enter Borachia.
She is yonder by her self, the Lady's from her.
Now to begin my sacrifice: she stirs, and vents it.
O how she holds her nose up like a Jennet
I'th' wind of a Grass-mare! She has it full now,
And now she comes. I'll stand aside a while.

Bor.
'Tis wine; I sure 'tis wine! excellent strong wine!
I'th must I take it: Very wine: this way too.

John.
How true, she hunts? I'll make the train a little longer.

Bor.
Stronger, and stronger still! still blessed wine!

John.
Now she hunts hot.

Bor.
All that I can make for this wine,
This way it went sure.

John.
Now she is at a cold scent.
Make out your doubles Mistress. O well hunted,
That's she, that's she.

Bor.
O, if I could but see it!
O what a pretious scent it has! but handle it!

John.
Now I'll untappice.

Bor.
What's that? still 'tis stronger.
Why how now sirrah? what's that? answer quickly,
And to the point.

John.
'Tis wine forsooth, good wine,
Excellent Candi-wine.

Bor.
'Tis well forsooth:
Is this a drink for slaves? Why sawcy sirrah,
Excellent Candi-wine; draw nearer to me,
Reach in me bottle, Why thou most debauch'd slave.

John.
Pray be not angry Mistress, for with all my service
And pains, I purchas'd this for you, I dare not drink it;
For you a present, onely for your pleasure,
To shew in little, what a thanks I owe
The hourly courtesies, your goodness gives me.

Bor.
And I will give thee more; there kiss my hand on't.

John.
I thank you deerly for your durty favor,
How ranck it smells!

Bor.
By thy leave sweet Bottle,
And Sugar-candi-wine, I now come to thee;
Hold your hand under.

John.
How does your Worship like it?

Bor.
Under again, again; and now come kiss me,
I'll be a mother to thee, Come, drink to me.

John.
I do beseech your pardon.

Bor.
Here's to thee then,
I am easily intreated for thy good,
'Tis naught for thee indeed, 'twill make thee break out;
Thou hast a pure complexion: now for me
'Tis excellent, 'tis excellent for me.
Son slave I have a cold stomach, and the wind.

John.
Blows out a cry at your both ends.

Bor.
Kiss again,
Cherish thy Lips, for thou shalt kiss fair Ladies:
Son slave I have them for thee; I'll shew thee all.

John.
Heav'n bless mine eyes!

Bor.
Ev'n all the secrets, Son slave,
In my dominion.

John.
Oh here come the Ladies,
Now to my business.

Enter Almira and Leonora.
Leon.
This air will much refresh you:

Al:
I must sit down.

Leon.
Do, and take freer thoughts;
The place invites you, and I walk by, like your Sentinel.

Bor.
And thou shalt be my Heir, I'll leave thee all,
Heav'n knows to what 'twill mount to; but abundance:
I'll leave thee two yong Ladies, what think you of that Boy?
Where is the Bottle? Two delicate yong Ladies:
But first you shall commit with me. Do you mark son,
And shew your self a Gentleman, that's the truth son:

John.
Excellent Lady, kissing your fair hand,
And humbly craving pardon for intruding
This Letter, and this Ring.

Leon.
From whom, I pray you sir?

John.
From the most noble, loving Lord, Don Pedro,
The servant of your Vertues.

Bor.
And prethee, good son slave, be wise and circumspect,
And take heed of being overtaken with too much drink;
For it is a lamentable sin, and spoils all:
Why 'tis the damnablest thing to be drunk son,
Heav'n cannot endure it. And hark you, one thing I would have done:
Knock my husband on the head, as soon as may be,
For he is an arrant Puppy, and cannot perform—
Why, where the devil is this foolish Bottle?

Leon.
I much thank you, and this sir for your pains.

John.
No, gentle Lady,
That I can do him service, is my merit,
My faith, my full reward.

Leon.
Once more I thank you.
Since I have met so true a friend to goodness,
I dare deliver to your charge, my answer:
Pray you tell him Sir, this night I do invite him
To meet me in the Garden. Means he may finde,
For love, they say, wants no abilities.

John.
Nor shall he, Madam, if my help may prosper.
So everlasting Love, and Sweetness, bless ye.
She's at it still, I dare not now appear to her.

Al.
What fellows that?

Leon.
Indeed I know not, Madam,
It seems of some strange Countrey by his habit;
Nor can I shew you by what mystery
He wrought himself into this place, prohibited.

Al.
A handsom man.

Leon.
But of a minde more handsom.

Al.
Was his business to you?

Leon.
Yes, from a friend you woot of.

Al.
A very handsom fellow,
And well demean'd.

Leon.
Exceeding well, and speaks well.

Al.
And speaks well too?

Leon.
I passing well, and freely,
And as he promises of a most clear nature,
Brought up sure far above his show.

Al.
It seems so:
I would I had heard him, friend. Comes he again?

Leon.
Indeed I know not if he do.

Al.
'Tis no matter.
Come let's walk in.

Leon.
I am glad you have found your tongue yet.

Borachia sings.
Enter Cuculo.
Cuc.
My wife is very merry; sure 'twas her voice,
Pray Heav'n there be no drink in't, then I allow it.

John.
'Tis sure my Master, now the game begins;
Here will be spitting of fire a both sides presently,
Send me but safe deliver'd.

Cuc.
O my heart aks!
My head aks too: Mercy, O me she's perish'd!
She has gotten wine! she is gone for ever.

Bor.
Come hither Ladies, carry your bodies swimming;
Do your three duties then, then fall behinde me.

Cuc.
O thou pernitious Raschal! What hast thou done?

John.
I done alas Sir, I have done nothing.

Cuc.
Sirrah,
How came she by this wine?

John.
Alas, I know not.

Bor.
Who's that, that talks of wine there?

John.
Forsooth, my Master.

Bor.
Bring him before me, son slave.

Cuc.
I will know it.
This Bottle? how this Bottle?

Bor.
Do not stir it;
For if you do, by this good wine, I'll knock ye,
I'll beat ye damnable, yea, and nay, I'll beat you;
And when I have broke it 'bout your head, do you mark me?
Then will I tie it to your Worship's tail,
And all the dogs i'th' Town shall follow you.
No question I would avise you how I came by it.
I will have none of these points handled now.

Cuc.
She'll never be well again, while the world stands.

John.
I hope so.

Cuc.
How doest thou Lamb?

Bor.
Well, God-a-mercy Bell-wether, how doest thou?
Stand out: Son slave, sit you here, and before this Worshipful Audience
Propound a doubtful question: See who's drunk now:

Cuc.
Now, now, it works, the devil now dwells in her.

Bor.
Whether the Heav'n, or the Earth, be neerer the Moon?
Or what's the natural Reason, why a woman longs
To make her husband Cuckold? Bring me your Cousin
The Curate now, that great Philosopher;
He that found out a Pudding had two ends;
That learned Clerk, that notable Gymnosophist,
And let him with his Jacobs-Staff discover
What is the third part of Three farthings, three
Half pence, being the half, and I am satisfied.

Cuc.
You see she hath Learning enough, if she could dispose it.

Bor.
Too much for thee, thou Logger-head, thou Bull-head.

Cuc.
Nay good Borachia

Bor.
Thou a sufficient States-man?
A Gentleman of Learning, hang thee Dog-whelp;
Thou shadow of a man of action;
Thou scab o'th' Court, go sleep you drunken Rascal;
Ye debauch'd Puppy, get you home, and sleep sirrah,
And so will I son slave, thou shalt sleep with me.

Cuc.
Prethee look to her tenderly.

Bor.
No words sirrah
Of any wine, or any thing like wine,
Or any thing concerning wine, or by wine,
Or from, or with wine: Come lead me like a Countess.

Cuc.
Thus must we bear, poor men! There is a trick in't,
But when slie is well again, I'll trick her for it.

Exeunt.