 | Every Man In His Humour |  |
Act I, Scene ii
[Enter] EDWARD [holding a letter], BRAINWORMEDWARD
Did he open it, sayest thou?
BRAINWORM
Yes, o' my word, sir, and read the contents.
EDWARD
That scarce contents me. What countenance, prithee, made he, i' the reading of it? Was he angry, or pleased?
BRAINWORM
Nay sir, I saw him not read it, nor open it, I assure your worship.
EDWARD
No? How know'st thou, then, that he did either?
BRAINWORM
Marry, sir, because he charged me, on my life, to tell nobody that he opened it; which, unless he had done, he would never fear to have it revealed.
EDWARD
That's true; well, I thank thee, Brainworm.
[He studies the letter]
STEPHEN
Oh, Brainworm, did'st thou not see a fellow here in a what-sha'-call-him doublet? He brought mine uncle a letter e'en now.
BRAINWORM
Yes, Master Stephen, what of him?
STEPHEN
Oh, I ha' such a mind to beat him. Where is he? Canst thou tell?
BRAINWORM
Faith, he is not of that mind: he is gone, Master Stephen.
STEPHEN
Gone? Which way? When went he? How long since?
BRAINWORM
He is rid hence. He took horse at the street door.
STEPHEN
And I stayed i' the fields! Whoreson scanderbag rogue! Oh that I had but a horse to fetch him back again.
BRAINWORM
Why, you may ha' my master's gelding, to save your longing, sir.
STEPHEN
But I ha' no boots, that's the spite on't.
BRAINWORM
Why, a fine wisp of hay, rolled hard, Master Stephen.
STEPHEN
No, faith, it's no boot to follow him now: let him e'en go, and hang. 'Pray thee, help to truss me a little. He does so vex me-
BRAINWORM
You'll be worse vexed, when you are trussed, Master Stephen. Best keep unbraced, and walk yourself till you be cold: your choler may founder you else.
STEPHEN
By my faith, and so I will, now thou tell'st me on't. How dost thou like my leg, Brainworm?
BRAINWORM
A very good leg, Master Stephen! But the woollen stocking does not commend it so well.
STEPHEN
Foh, the stockings be good enough, now summer is coming on, for the dust. I'll have a pair of silk again' winter, that I go to dwell i' the town. I think my leg would show in a silk hose.
BRAINWORM
Believe me, Master Stephen, rarely well.
STEPHEN
In sadness, I think it would: I have a reasonable good leg.
BRAINWORM
You have an excellent good leg, Master Stephen, but I cannot stay to praise it longer now, and I am very sorry for't.
STEPHEN
Another time will serve, Brainworm. Gramercy for this.
[Exit BRAINWORM]
EDWARD
Ha, ha, ha! [EDWARD] laughs having
read the letter
STEPHEN
'Slid, I hope, he laughs not at me; an' he do-
EDWARD
Here was a letter, indeed, to be intercepted by a man's father, and do him good
with him! He cannot but think most virtuously, both of me, and the sender, sure; that
make the careful costermonger of him in our 'Familiar Epistles'. Well, if he read this
with patience, I'll be gelt, and troll ballads for Master John Trundle, yonder, the rest of
my mortality. It is true, and likely, my father may have as much patience as another
man; for he takes much physic, and oft taking physic makes a man very patient. But
would your packet, Master Wellbred, had arrived at him, in such a minute of his
patience; then we had known the end of it, which now is doubtful, and
threatens [Sees STEPHEN]
What! My wise cousin! Nay, then, I'll furnish our feast with one gull more toward the
mess. He writes to me of a brace, and here's one, that's three. Oh, for a fourth; Fortune,
if ever thou'lt use thine eyes, I entreat thee-
STEPHEN
Oh, now I see who he laughed at. He laughed at somebody in that letter. By this good light, an' he had laughed at me-
EDWARD
How now, cousin Stephen, melancholy?
STEPHEN
Yes, a little. I thought you had laughed at me, cousin.
EDWARD
Why, what an' I had, coz, what would you ha' done?
STEPHEN
By this light, I would ha' told mine uncle.
EDWARD
Nay, if you would ha' told your uncle, I did laugh at you, coz.
STEPHEN
Did you, indeed?
EDWARD
Yes, indeed.
STEPHEN
Why, then
EDWARD
What then?
STEPHEN
I am satisfied, it is sufficient.
EDWARD
Why, be so, gentle coz. And, I pray you let me entreat a courtesy of you. I am sent for, this morning, by a friend i' the Old Jewry to come to him. It's but crossing over the fields to Moorgate. Will you bear me company? I protest, it is not to draw you into bond, or any plot against the state, coz.
STEPHEN
Sir, that's all one, an' 'twere: you shall command me twice so far as Moorgate to do you good in such a matter. Do you think I would leave you? I protest
EDWARD
No, no, you shall not protest, coz.
STEPHEN
By my fackins, but I will, by your leave; I'll protest more to my friend than I'll speak of at this time.
EDWARD
You speak very well, coz.
STEPHEN
Nay, not so, neither, you shall pardon me; but I speak to serve my turn.
EDWARD
Your turn, coz? Do you know what you say? A gentleman of your sort, parts, carriage, and estimation, to talk o' your turn i' this company, and to me alone, like a tankard-bearer at a conduit! Fie. A wight that (hitherto) his every step hath left the stamp of a great foot behind him, as every word the savour of a strong spirit! And he! This man! So graced, gilded, or (to use a more fit metaphor) so tin-foiled by nature, as not ten housewives' pewter (again' a good time) shows more bright to the world than he! And he (as I said last, so I say again, and still shall say it)-this man!-to conceal such real ornaments as these, and shadow their glory, as a milliner's wife does her wrought stomacher, with a smoky lawn, or a black cyprus? Oh, coz! It cannot be answered, go not about it. Drake's old ship, at Deptford, may sooner circle the world again. Come, wrong not the quality of your desert with looking downward, coz; but hold up your head, so: and let the Idea of what you are be portrayed i' your face, that men may read i' your physnomy, 'Here, within this place, is to be seen the true, rare, and accomplished monster, or miracle of nature', which is all one. What think you of this, coz?
STEPHEN
Why, I do think of it, and I will be more proud, and melancholy, and gentleman-like, than I have been: I'll ensure you.
EDWARD
Why, that's resolute Master Stephen! [Aside]
Now, if I can but hold him up to his height, as it
is happily begun, it will do well for a suburb-humour: we may hap have a match with
the City, and play him for forty pound. Come, coz.
STEPHEN
I'll follow you.
EDWARD
Follow me? You must go before.
STEPHEN
Nay, an' I must, I will. Pray you, show me, good cousin.
[Exeunt]
| Every Man In His Humour | |