University of Virginia Library

Act I, Scene iii

[Enter] MATTHEW
MATTHEW

I think this be the house: what ho?

COB
[Within]

Who's there?

[Opens the door]

Oh, Master Matthew! Gi' your worship good morrow.

MATTHEW

What! Cob! How dost thou, good Cob? Dost thou inhabit here, Cob?

COB

Aye, sir, I and my lineage ha' kept a poor house here, in our days.

MATTHEW

Thy lineage, Monsieur Cob, what lineage? What lineage?

COB

Why, sir, an ancient lineage, and a princely. Mine ance'try came from a king's belly, no worse man; and yet no man neither (by your worship's leave, I did lie in that) but Herring the king of fish, from his belly I proceed, one o' the monarchs o' the world, I assure you. The first red herring that was broiled in Adam and Eve's kitchen do I fetch my pedigree

from, by the harrots' books. His cob was my great-great-mighty-great grandfather.

MATTHEW

Why mighty? Why mighty, I pray thee?

COB

Oh, it was a mighty while ago, sir, and a mighty great cob.

MATTHEW

How know'st thou that?

COB

How know I? Why, I smell his ghost, ever and anon.

MATTHEW

Smell a ghost? Oh unsavoury jest! And the ghost of a herring, Cob!

COB

Aye, sir, with favour of your worship's nose, Master Matthew, why not the ghost of a herring-cob, as well as the ghost of rasher-bacon?

MATTHEW

Roger Bacon, thou would'st say?

COB

I say rasher-bacon. They were both broiled o' the coals? And a man may smell broiled meat, I hope? You are a scholar: upsolve me that, now.

MATTHEW

Oh raw ignorance! Cob, canst thou show me of a gentleman, one Captain Bobadill, where his lodging is?

COB

Oh, my guest, sir, you mean!

MATTHEW

Thy guest! Alas! Ha, ha.

COB

Why do you laugh, sir? Do you not mean Captain Bobadill?

MATTHEW

Cob, 'pray thee, advise thyself well: do not wrong the gentleman, and thyself too. I dare be sworn, he scorns thy house. He! He lodge in such a base, obscure place, as thy house! Tut, I know his disposition so well, he would not lie in thy bed, if thou'dst gi'it him.

COB

I will not give it him, though, sir. Mass, I thought somewhat was in't, we could not get him to bed all night! Well, sir, though he lie not o' my bed, he lies o' my bench: an't please you to go up, sir, you shall find him with two cushions under his head, and his cloak wrapped about him, as though he had neither won nor lost, and yet, I warrant, he ne'er cast better in his life than he has done tonight.

MATTHEW

Why? Was he drunk?

COB

Drunk, sir? You hear not me say so. Perhaps he swallowed a tavern-token, or some such device, sir: I have nothing to do withal. I deal with water, and not with wine. Gi'me my tankard there, ho. God b'w'you, sir. It's six o'clock: I should ha' carried two turns, by this. What ho! My stopple! Come.

MATTHEW

Lie in a water-bearer's house! A gentleman of his havings! Well, I'll tell him my mind.

[Enter TIB, carrying the tankard and stopple]
COB

What, Tib, show this gentleman up to the Captain.

[Exit TIB and MATTHEW]

Oh, an' my house were the Brazen-head now, faith, it would e'en speak, 'Mo' fools yet'. You should ha' some now would take this Master Matthew to be a gentleman, at the least. His father's an honest man, a worshipful fishmonger, and so forth; and now does he creep and wriggle into acquaintance with all the brave gallants about the town, such as my guest is (oh, my guest is a fine man), and they flout him invincibly. He useth every

day to a merchant's house, where I serve water, one Master Kitely's, i' the Old Jewry; and here's the jest, he is in love with my master's sister, Mistress Bridget, and calls her mistress; and there he will sit you a whole afternoon sometimes, reading o' these same abominable, vile (a pox on 'em, I cannot abide them) rascally verses, poyetry, poyetry, and speaking of interludes, 'twill make a man burst to hear him. And the wenches, they do so jeer, and tee-hee at him--well, should they do so much to me, I'd forswear them all, by the foot of Pharaoh. There's an oath! How many water-bearers shall you hear swear such an oath? Oh, I have a guest--he teaches me--he does swear the legiblest, of any man chistened: 'By St. George!' 'The foot of Pharaoh!' 'The body of me!' 'As I am a gentleman and a soldier!' Such dainty oaths! And withal, he does take this same filthy roguish tobacco the finest and cleanliest! It would do a man good to see the fume come forth at's tunnels! Well, he owes me forty shillings (my wife lent him out of her purse, by sixpence a time) besides his lodging: I would I had it. I shall ha'it, he says, the next Action. Helter skelter, hang sorrow, care'll kill a cat, up-tails all, and a louse for the hangman.

[Exit]