 | The Humorous Lieutenant |  |
Scæne 3.
Enter Lieutenant, & Leontius. Drums within.Leo.
You shal not have your wil, sirrah, are ye running?
Have ye gotten a toy in your heeles? Is this a season,
When honour pricks ye on, to prick your eares up,
After your whore, your Hobby-horse?
Lieu.
Why look ye now:
What a strange man are you? would you have a man fight
At all houres all alike.
Leo.
Doe but fight something;
But halfe a blow, and put thy stomack to't:
Turne but thy face, and do but make mouthes at 'em.
Lieu.
And have my teeth knockt out; I thank ye heartily,
Ye are my deare friend.
Leo.
What a devill ailes thee?
Dost long to be hang'd?
Lieu.
Faith Sir, I make no suit for't:
But rather then I would live thus out of charity,
Continually in brawling—
Leo.
Art thou not he?
I may be cozn'd—
Lie.
I shall be discover'd.
Leo.
That in the midst of thy most hellish pains,
When thou wert crawling sick, didst aime at wonders,
When thou wert mad with paine?
Lieu.
Ye have found the cause out;
I had ne're been mad to fight else: I confesse sir,
The dayly torture of my side that vext me,
Made me as dayly carelesse what became of me,
Till a kinde sword there wounded me, and eas'd me;
'Twas nothing in my valour fought; I am well now,
And take some pleasure in my life, methinks now,
It shewes as mad a thing to me to see you scuffle,
And kill one another foolishly for honour,
As 'twas to you, to see me play the cox-combe.
Leo.
And wilt thou ne're fight more?
Lieu.
Ith' minde I am in,
Leo.
Nor never be sick againe?
Lieu.
I hope I shall not.
Leo.
Prethee be sick againe; prethee, I beseech thee,
Be just so sick againe.
Lieu.
Ile just be hang'd first.
Leo.
If all the Arts that are can make a Chollique,
Therefore look to't: or if imposthumes, marke me,
As big as foot-bals—
Lieu.
Deliver me.
Leo.
Or stones of ten pound weight ith' kidneyes,
Through ease and ugly dyets may be gather'd;
Ile feed ye up my selfe sir, Ile prepare ye,
You cannot fight, unlesse the devill teare ye,
You shall not want provocations, Ile scratch ye,
Ile have thee have the tooth-ach, and the head-ach.
Lieu.
Good Colonell, Ile doe any thing.
Leo.
No, no, nothing—
Then will I have thee blowne with a paire of Smiths bellowes,
Because ye shall be sure to have a round gale with ye,
Fil'd full of oyle, o' devill, and Aqua fortis,
And let these worke, these may provoke.
Lieu.
Good Colonell.
Leo.
A coward in ful bloud; prethee be plain with me,
Will roasting doe thee any good?
Lieu.
Nor basting neither, sir.
Leo.
Marry that goes hard.
Enter 1. Gent.
1 Gent.
Where are you Colonell?
The Prince expects ye sir; has hedg'd the enemy
132
Of all men living cannot force a passage,
He has 'em now.
Leo.
I knew all this before sir,
I chalk'd him out his way: but do you see that thing there?
Lieu.
Nay good sweet Colonell, Ile fight a little.
Leo.
That thing?
1. Gent.
What thing? I see the brave Lieutenant.
Leo.
Rogue, what a name hast thou lost?
Lieu.
You may helpe it?
Yet you may help't: Ile doe ye any courtesie:
I know you love a wench well.
Enter 2 Gent.
Leo.
Look upon him;
Doe you look too.
2. Gent.
What should I look on?
I come to tell yee, the Prince stayes your direction,
We have 'em now ith Coop, sir.
Leo.
Let 'em rest there,
And chew upon their miseries: but look first—
Lieu.
I cannot fight for all this.
Leo.
Look on this fellow.
2 Gent.
I know him; 'tis the valiant brave Lieutenant.
Leo.
Canst thou heare this, and play the rogue? steal off quickly,
Behinde me quickly, neatly doe it,
And rush into the thickest of the enemy,
And if thou kill'st but two.
Lieu.
You may excuse me,
'Tis not my fault: I dare not fight.
Leo.
Be rul'd yet
Ile beat thee on; goe wink and fight: a plague upon your sheeps heart.
2 Gent.
What's all this matter?
1 Gent.
Nay I cannot shew yee.
Leo.
Here's twenty pound, goe but smell to 'em.
Lieu.
Alas sir,
I have taken such a cold I can smell nothing.
Leo.
I can smell a rascall, a ranke rascall:
Fye, how he stinks, stinkes like a tyred Jade.
2 Gent.
What sir?
Leo.
Why, that sir, doe not you smell him?
2. Gent.
Smell him?
Lieu.
I must endure.
Leo.
Stinks like a dead dog, Carrion—
There's no such damnable smell under heaven,
As the faint sweat of a Coward: will ye fight yet?
Lie.
Nay, now I defie ye; ye have spoke the worst ye can
Of me, and if every man should take what you say
To the heart.—
Leo.
God a mercy,
God a mercy with all my heart; here I forgive thee;
And fight, or fight not, doe but goe along with us,
And keep my dog.
Lieu.
I love a good dog naturally.
1 Gent.
What's all this stir, Lieutenant?
Lieut.
Nothing Sir,
But a slight matter of argument.
Leo.
Pox take thee.
Sure I shall love this rogue, he's so pretty a Coward,
Come gentlemen, let's up now, and if fortune
Dare play the slut againe, Ile never more Saint her,
Come play fellow, come, prethee come up; come chicken,
I have a way shall fit yet: A tame knave.
Come, look upon us.
Lieu.
Ile tell ye who does best boyes.
Exeunt.
| The Humorous Lieutenant | |