University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Enter the Master Cook, Butler, Pantler, Yeoman of the Cellar, with a Jack of Beer and a Dish.
Cook.
A hot day, a hot day, vengeance hot day boys,
Give me some drink, this fire's a plaguy fretter:
Body of me, I'm dry still; give me the Jack boy;
This wooden Skiff holds nothing.

Pant.
And faith master, what brave new meats; for here
Will be old eating.

Coo.
Old and young, boy, let 'em all eat, I have it;
I have ballast for their bellies, if they eat a gods name,
Let them have ten tire of teeth a piece, I care not;

But.
But what new rare munition?

Coo.
Pish, a thousand;
I'le make you piggs speak French at table, and a fat swan
Come sailing out of England with a challenge;
I'le make you a dish of calves feet dance the Canaries,
And a consort of cramm'd capons fiddle to 'em;
A calves head speak an Oracle, and a dozen of Larks
Rise from the dish, and sing all supper time;
'Tis nothing boyes: I have framed a fortification
Out of Rye paste; which is impregnable,
And against that, for two long hours together,
Two dozen of marrow-bones shall play continually:
For fish, I'le make you a standing lake of white broth,
And pikes come ploughing up the plums before them;
Arion, like a Dolphin, playing Lachrymæ,
And brave King Herring with his oyle and onyon
Crown'd with a Limon pill, his way prepar'd
With his strong Guard of Pilchers.

Pant.
I marry Master.

Coo.
All these are nothing: I'le make you a stubble Goose
Turn o'th' toe thrice, do a cross point presently,
And sit down again, and cry come eat me:
These are for mirth. Now Sir, for matter of mourning,
I'le bring you in the Lady Loyn of Veal,
With the long love she bore the Prince of Orenge.

All.
Thou boy, thou.

Coo.
I have a trick for thee too,
And a rare trick, and I have done it for thee.

Yeo.
What's that good master?

Coo.
'Tis a sacrifice.
A full Vine bending, like an Arch, and under
The blown god Bacchus, sitting on a Hogshead,
His Altar Beer: before that, a plump Vintner
Kneeling, and offring incense to his deitie,
Which shall be only this, red Sprats and Pilchers.

But.
This when the Table's drawn, to draw the wine on.

Coo.
Thou hast it right, and then comes thy Song, Butler.

Pant.
This will be admirable.

Yeo.
Oh Sir, most admirable.

Coo.
If you'l have the pasty speak, 'tis in my power,
I have fire enough to work it; come, stand close,
And now rehearse the Song, we may be perfect,
The drinking Song, and say I were the Brothers.
Well have you born your selves; a red Deer Pye, Boyes,
And that no lean one, I bequeath your vertues;
What friends hast thou to day? no citizens?

Pant.
Yes Father, the old Crew.

Coo.
By the mass true wenches:
Sirrah, set by a chine of Beef, and a hot Pasty,
And let the Joll of Sturgeon be corrected:
And do you mark Sir, stalk me to a Pheasant,
And see if you can shoot her in the Sellar.

Pant.
God a mercy Lad, send me thy roaring bottles,
And with such Nectar I will see 'em fill'd,
That all thou speak'st shall be pure Helicon.
Enter Latorch.
Monsieur Latorch? what news with him? Save you.

Lat.
Save you Master, save you Gentlemen,
You are casting for this preparation;
This joyfull supper for the royal Brothers:
I'm glad I have met you fitly, for to your charge
My bountifull brave Butler, I must deliver
A Bevie of young Lasses, that must look on
This nights solemnity, and see the two Dukes,
Or I shall lose my credit; you have Stowage?

But.
For such freight I'le find room, and be your servant.

Coo.
Bring them, they shall not starve here, I'le send 'em victuals
Shall work you a good turn, though't be ten days hence, Sir.

Lat.
God a mercy noble Master.

Coo.
Nay, I'le do't.

Yeo.
And wine they shall not want, let 'em drink like Ducks.

Lat.
What misery it is that minds so royal,
And such most honest bounties, as yours are,
Should be confin'd thus to uncertainties?

But.
I, were the State once setled, then we had places.

Yeo.
Then we could shew our selves, and help our friends, Sir.

Coo.
I, then there were some savour in't, where now
We live between two stools, every hour ready
To tumble on our noses; and for ought we know yet,
For all this Supper, ready to fast the next day.

Lat.
I would fain speak unto you out of pitie,
Out of the love I bear you, out of honesty,
For your own goods; nay, for the general blessing.

Coo.
And we would as fain hear you, pray go forward.

Lat.
Dare you but think to make your selves up certainties
Your places and your credits ten times doubled;
The Princes favour, Rollo's?

But.
A sweet Gentleman.

Yeo.
I, and as bounteous, if he had his right too.

Coo.
By the mass, a Royal Gentleman indeed Boyes,
He'd make the chimneys smoak.

Lat.
He would do't friends,
And you too, if he had his right, true Courtiers;
What could you want then? dare you?

Coo.
Pray you be short Sir.

Lat.
And this my soul upon't, I dare assure you,
If you but dare your parts.

Coo.
Dare not me Monsieur,
For I that fear nor fire nor water, Sir,
Dare do enough, a man would think.

Yeo.
Believ't, Sir;
But make this good upon us you have promis'd,
You shall not find us flinchers.

Lat.
Then I'le be sudden.

Pant.
What may this mean? and whither would be drive us?

Lat.
And first, for what you must do, because all danger
Shall be apparantly ty'd up and muzl'd,
The matter seeming mighty: there's your pardons,

Pant.
Pardon's? Is't come to that? gods defend us.

Lat.
And here's five hundred Crowns in bounteous earnest,
And now behold the matter.

Latorch gives each a paper.
But.
What are these, Sir?

Yeo.
And of what nature? to what use?

Lat.
Imagine.

Coo.
Will they kill Rats? they eat my pyes abominably,
Or work upon a woman cold as Christmas?
I have an old Jade sticks upon my fingers,
May I taste them?

Lat.
Is your will made?
And have you said your prayers? for they'le pay you:
And now to come up to you, for your knowledge,
And for the good you never shall repent you
If you be wise men now.

Coo.
Wise as you will, Sir.

Lat.
These must be put then into the several meats
Young Otto loves, by you into his wine, Sir,
Into his bread by you, by you into his linnen.
Now if you desire, you have found the means
To make you, and if you dare not, you have
Found your ruine; resolve me e're you go.

But.
You'l keep your faith with us.

Lat.
May I no more see light else.

Coo.
Why 'tis done then?

But.
'Tis done.

Pant.
'Tis done which shall be undone.

Lat.
About it then, farewel, y'are all of one mind.

Coo.
All?

All.
All, All.

Lat.
Why then, all happie.

[Exit.
But.
What did we promise him?

Yeo.
Do you ask that now?

But.
I would be glad to know what 'tis.

Pan.
I'le tell you,
It is to be all villains, knaves, and traytors.

Coo.
Fine wholsome titles.

Pan.
But if you dare, go forward.

Coo.
We may be hang'd, drawn, and quarter'd.

Pan.
Very true, Sir.

Coo.

What a goodly swing I shall give the gallows? yet
I think too, this may be done, and yet we may be rewarded,
not with a rope, but with a royal master: and yet we may
be hang'd too.

Yeo.
Say it were done; who is it done for? is it not for Rollo?
And for his right?

Coo.
And yet we may be hang'd too.

But.
Or say he take it, say we be discover'd?
Is not the same man bound still to protect us?
Are we not his?

Yeo.
Sure, he will never fail us.

Coo.
If he do, friends, we shall find that will hold us.
And yet me thinks, this prologue to our purpose,
These crowns should promise more: 'tis easily done,
As easie as a man would roast an egge,
If that be all; for look you, Gentlemen,
Here stand my broths, my finger slips a little,
Down drops a dose, I stir him with my ladle,
And there's a dish for a Duke: Olla Podrida.
Here stands a bak'd meat, he wants a little seasoning,
A foolish mistake; my Spice-box, Gentlemen,
And put in some of this, the matter's ended;
Dredge you a dish of plovers, there's the Art on't.

Yeo.
Or as I fill my wine.

Coo.
'Tis very true, Sir,
Blessing it with your hand, thus quick and neatly first, 'tis past
And done once, 'tis as easie
For him to thank us for it, and reward us.

Pan.
But 'tis a damn'd sin.

Coo.
O, never fear that.
The fire's my play-fellow, and now I am resolv'd, boyes.

But.
Why then, have with you.

Yeo.
The same for me.

Pan.
For me too.

Coo.
And now no more our worships, but our Lordships.

Pan.
Not this year, on my knowledge, I'le unlord you.

[Exeunt.