 | Every Man in his Humour |  |
Act III
Act III, Scene i
[Enter] MATTHEW, WELLBRED [and] BOBADILLMATTHEW
Yes, faith, sir, we were at your lodging to seek you, too.
WELLBRED
Oh, I came not there tonight.
BOBADILL
Your brother delivered us as much.
WELLBRED
Who? My brother Downright?
BOBADILL
He. Master Wellbred, I know not in what kind you hold me, but let me say to you this: as sure as honour, I esteem it so much out of the sunshine of reputation to throw the least beam of regard upon such a--
WELLBRED
Sir, I must hear no ill words of my brother.
BOBADILL
I protest to you, as I have a thing to be saved about me, I never saw any gentleman-like part--
WELLBRED
Good Captain, faces about, to some other discourse.
BOBADILL
With your leave, sir, an' there were no more men living upon the face of the earth, I should not fancy him, by St. George.
MATTHEW
Troth, nor I, he is of a rustical cut, I know not how: he doth not carry himself like a gentleman of fashion--
WELLBRED
Oh, Master Matthew, that's a grace peculiar but to a few; quos aequus amavit Jupiter.
MATTHEW
I understand you sir.
WELLBRED
No question, you do, or you do not, sir.
[EDWARD] enters [followed by STEPHEN]Ned Knowell! By my soul welcome; how dost thou, sweet spirit, my genius. 'Slid I shall love Apollo and the mad Thespian girls the better, while I live, for this; my dear Fury: now I see there's some love in thee! Sirrah, these be the two I writ to thee of. Nay, what a drowsy humour is this now? Why dost thou not speak?
Oh, you are a fine gallant, you sent me a rare letter!
WELLBRED
Why, was't not rare?
EDWARD
Yes, I'll be sworn, I was ne'er guilty of reading the like: match it in all Pliny, or Symmachus' epistles, and I'll have my judgement burned in the ear for a rogue; make much of thy vein, for it is inimitable. But I mar'l what camel it was, that had the carriage of it? For doubtless, he was no ordinary beast that brought it!
WELLBRED
Why?
EDWARD
Why, sayst thou? Why dost thou think that any reasonable creature, especially in the morning (the sober time of the day too), could have mista'en my father for me?
WELLBRED
'Slid, you jest, I hope?
EDWARD
Indeed, the best use we can turn it to, is to make a jest on't, now; but I'll assure you, my father had the full view o' your flourishing style, some hour before I saw it.
WELLBRED
What a dull slave was this! But, sirrah, what said he to it, i' faith?
EDWARD
Nay, I know not what he said; but I have a shrewd guess what he thought.
WELLBRED
What? What?
EDWARD
Marry, that thou art some strange dissolute young fellow, and I a grain or two better, for keeping thee company.
WELLBRED
Tut, that thought is like the moon in her last quarter, 'twill change shortly; but, sirrah, I pray thee be acquainted with my two hang-bys here. Thou wilt take exceeding pleasure in 'em if thou hear'st 'em once go: my wind instruments. I'll wind 'em up--but what strange piece of silence is this? The sign of the Dumb Man?
EDWARD
Oh, sir, a kinsman of mine, one that may make your music the fuller, an' he please: he has his humour, sir.
WELLBRED
Oh, what is't? What is't?
EDWARD
Nay, I'll neither do your judgement nor his folly that wrong, as to prepare your apprehension: I'll leave him to the mercy o' your search; if you can take him, so.
WELLBRED
Well, Captain Bobadill, Master Matthew, pray you know this gentleman here, he is a friend of mine, and one that will deserve your affection.
[To MASTER STEPHEN]I know not your name sir, but I shall be glad of any occasion to render me more familiar to you.
STEPHEN
My name is Master Stephen, sir, I am this gentleman's own cousin, sir, his father is mine uncle, sir, I am somewhat melancholy, but you shall command me, sir, in whatsoever is incident to a gentleman.
BOBADILL
[To [EDWARD] KNOWELL]
Sir, I must tell you this, I am no general man, but for Master Wellbred's sake (you may embrace it at what height of favour you please) I do communicate with you; and conceive you to be a gentleman of some parts; I love few words.
EDWARD
And I fewer, sir. I have scarce enow to thank you.
To MASTER STEPHEN But are you indeed, sir? So given to it?
STEPHEN
Aye, truly, sir, I am mightily given to melancholy.
MATTHEW
Oh, it's your only fine humour, sir, your true melancholy breeds your perfect fine wit, sir: I am melancholy myself divers times, sir, and then do I no more but take pen and paper presently, and overflow you half a score, or a dozen of sonnets, at a sitting.
EDWARD
Aside Sure, he utters them then, by the gross.
STEPHEN
Truly, sir, and I love such things, out of measure.
EDWARD
I' faith, better than in measure, I'll undertake.
MATTHEW
Why, I pray you, sir, make use of my study, it's at your service.
STEPHEN
I thank you sir, I shall be bold, I warrant you; have you a stool there, to be melancholy upon?
MATTHEW
That I have, sir, and some papers there of mine own doing, at idle hours, that you'll say there's some sparks of wit in 'em, when you see them.
WELLBRED
[Aside]
Would the sparks would kindle once, and become a fire amongst 'em, I might see self-love burnt for her heresy.
STEPHEN
Cousin, is it well? Am I melancholy enough?
EDWARD
Oh, aye, excellent!
WELLBRED
Captain Bobadill: why muse you so?
EDWARD
He is melancholy, too.
BOBADILL
Faith, sir, I was thinking of a most honourable piece of service, was performed tomorrow, being St. Mark's day: shall be some ten years, now.
EDWARD
In what place, Captain?
BOBADILL
Why, at the beleag'ring of Strigonium, where, in less than two hours, seven hundred resolute gentlemen as any were in Europe lost their lives upon the breach. I'll tell you, gentlemen, it was the first, but the best leaguer, that ever I beheld, with these eyes, except the taking in of--what do you call it, last year, by the Genowayes?--but that (of all other) was the most fatal and dangerous exploit that ever I was ranged in, since I first bore arms before the face of the enemy, as I am a gentleman, and soldier.
STEPHEN
'So, I had as lief as an angel, I could swear as well as that gentleman!
EDWARD
Then, you were a servitor, at both it seems! At Strigonium? And what-do-you-call't?
BOBADILL
Oh Lord, sir! By St. George, I was the first man that entered the breach; and, had I not effected it with resolution, I had been slain, if I had had a million of lives.
EDWARD
'Twas pity you had not ten: a cat's, and your own, i' faith. But, was it possible?
MATTHEW
[Aside to STEPHEN]
'Pray you, mark this discourse, sir.
STEPHEN
[To MATTHEW]
So I do.
BOBADILL
I assure you (upon my reputation) 'tis true, and yourself shall confess.
You must bring me to the rack first.
BOBADILL
Observe me judicially, sweet sir: they had planted me three demi-culverins, just in the mouth of the breach; now, sir (as we were to give on), their master-gunner (a man of no mean skill and mark, you must think) confronts me with his linstock, ready to give fire; I, spying his intendment, discharged my petrionel in his bosom, and with these single arms, my poor rapier, ran violently upon the Moors that guarded the ordnance, and put 'em pell-mell to the sword.
WELLBRED
To the sword? To the rapier, Captain.
EDWARD
Oh, it was a good figure observed, sir! But did you all this, Captain, without hurting your blade?
BOBADILL
Without any impeach, o' the earth: you shall perceive sir. It is the most fortunate weapon that ever rid on poor gentleman's thigh: shall I tell you, sir? You talk of Morglay, Excalibur, Durindana, or so? Tut, I lend no credit to that is fabled of 'em, I know the virtue of mine own, and therefore I dare, the boldlier, maintain it.
STEPHEN
I mar'l whether it be a Toledo, or no?
BOBADILL
A most perfect Toledo, I assure you, sir.
STEPHEN
I have a countryman of his, here.
MATTHEW
Pray you, let's see, sir: yes, faith, it is!
BOBADILL
This a Toledo? Pish.
STEPHEN
Why do you pish, Captain?
BOBADILL
A Fleming, by heaven, I'll buy them for a guilder apiece, an' I would have a thousand of them.
EDWARD
How say you, cousin? I told you thus much?
WELLBRED
Where bought you it, Master Stephen?
STEPHEN
Of a scurvy rogue soldier (a hundred of lice go with him), he swore it was a Toledo.
BOBADILL
A poor provant rapier, no better.
MATTHEW
Mass, I think it be, indeed, now I look on't better.
EDWARD
Nay, the longer you look on't, the worse. Put it up, put it up.
STEPHEN
Well, I will put it up, but by--(I ha' forgot the Captain's oath, I thought to ha' sworn by it)--an' e'er I meet him--
WELLBRED
Oh, it is past help now, sir, you must have patience.
STEPHEN
Whoreson coney-catching rascal! I could eat the very hilts for anger!
EDWARD
A sign of good digestion! You have an ostrich stomach, cousin.
STEPHEN
A stomach? Would I had him here, you should see an' I had a stomach.
WELLBRED
It's better as 'tis; come, gentlemen, shall we go?
EDWARD
A miracle, cousin, look here! Look here!
STEPHEN
Oh, God's lid, by your leave, do you know me, sir?
BRAINWORM
Aye sir, I know you, by sight.
STEPHEN
You sold me a rapier, did you not?
BRAINWORM
Yes, marry, did I, sir.
STEPHEN
You said it was a Toledo, ha?
BRAINWORM
True, I did so.
STEPHEN
But it is none?
BRAINWORM
No, sir, I confess it, it is none.
STEPHEN
Do you confess it? Gentlemen, bear witness, he has confessed it. By God's will, an' you had not confessed it--
EDWARD
Oh cousin, forbear, forbear.
STEPHEN
Nay, I have done, cousin.
WELLBRED
Why, you have done like a gentleman, he has confessed it, what would you more?
STEPHEN
Yes, by his leave, he is a rascal, under his favour, do you see?
EDWARD
Aye, by his leave, he is, and under favour: a pretty piece of civility!
[Aside]Sirrah, how dost thou like him?
WELLBRED
Oh, it's a most precious fool, make much on him; I can compare him to nothing more happily than a drum: for everyone may play upon him.
EDWARD
No, no, a child's whistle were far the fitter.
BRAINWORM
Sir, shall I entreat a word with you.
EDWARD
With me, sir? You have not another Toledo to sell, ha' you?
BRAINWORM
You are conceited, sir, [Takes EDWARD aside]
your name is Master Knowell, as I take it?
EDWARD
You are i' the right; you mean not to proceed in the catechism, do you?
BRAINWORM
No, sir, I am none of that coat.
EDWARD
Of as bare a coat, though; well, say sir.
BRAINWORM
Faith, sir, I am but servant to the drum extraordinary, and indeed (this smoky varnish being washed off, and three or four patches removed) I appear your worship's in reversion, after the decease of your good father: Brainworm.
EDWARD
Brainworm! 'Slight, what breath of a conjurer hath blown thee hither in this shape?
BRAINWORM
The breath o' your letter, sir, this morning: the same that blew you to the Windmill, and your father after you.
My father?
BRAINWORM
Nay, never start, 'tis true, he has followed you over the fields, by the foot, as you would do a hare i' the snow.
EDWARD
Sirrah, Wellbred, what shall we do, sirrah? My father is come over, after me.
WELLBRED
Thy father? Where is he?
BRAINWORM
At Justice Clement's house here in Coleman Street, where he but stays my return; and then--
WELLBRED
Who's this? Brainworm?
BRAINWORM
The same, sir.
WELLBRED
Why how, i' the name of wit, com'st thou transmuted thus?
BRAINWORM
Faith, a device, a device; nay, for the love of reason, gentlemen, and avoiding the danger, stand not here, withdraw, and I'll tell you all.
WELLBRED
But, art thou sure he will stay thy return?
BRAINWORM
Do I live, sir? What a question is that?
WELLBRED
We'll prorogue his expectation, then, a little: Brainworm, thou shalt go with us. Come on, gentlemen, nay, I pray thee, sweet Ned, droop not: 'heart, an' our wits be so wretchedly dull that one old plodding brain can outstrip us all, would we were e'en pressed to make porters of; and serve out the remnant of our days in Thames Street, or at Custom House quay, in a civil war against the carmen.
BRAINWORM
Amen, amen, amen, say I.
[Exeunt]
Act III, Scene ii
[Enter] KITELY [and] CASHKITELY
CASH
KITELY
CASH
KITELY
Aye, that will be the least; and then 'twill be
An hour before I can dispatch with him;
Or very near: well, I will say two hours.
Two hours? Ha? Things never dreamed of yet
May be contrived, aye, and effected too,
In two hours' absence; well, I will not go.
Two hours: no, fleering opportunity,
I will not give your subtlety that scope.
Who will not judge him worthy to be robbed,
That sets his doors wide open to a thief,
And shows the felon where his treasure lies?
Again, what earthy spirit but will attempt
When leaden sleep seals up the dragon's eyes?
I will not go. Business, go by, for once.
No, beauty, no: you are of too good caract,
To be left so, without a guard, or open!
Your lustre too'll inflame, at any distance,
Draw courtship to you, as a jet doth straws,
Put motion in a stone, strike fire from ice,
Nay, make a porter leap you, with his burden!
You must be then kept up, close, and well-watched,
For, give you opportunity, no quicksand
Devours or swallows swifter! He that lends
His wife (if she be fair) or time, or place,
Compels her to be false. I will not go.
The dangers are too many. And, then, the dressing
Is a most main attractive! Our great heads,
Within the city, never were in safety,
Since our wives wore these little caps: I'll change 'em,
I'll change 'em straight, in mine. Mine shall no more
Wear three-piled acorns, to make my horns ache.
Nor will I go. I am resolved for that.
I will defer going, on all occasions.
CASH
KITELY
I must go. What's o'clock?
CASH
KITELY
[Aside]
'Heart, then will Wellbred presently be here, too, With one or other of his loose consorts.
What course to take, or which way to resolve.
My brain (methinks) is like an hourglass,
Wherein my 'maginations run like sands,
Filling up time; but then are turned, and turned;
So that I know not what to stay upon,
And less, to put in act. It shall be so.
Nay, I dare build upon his secrecy,
He knows not to deceive me. Thomas?
CASH
KITELY
[Aside]
Thomas, is Cob within?
CASH
KITELY
[Aside]
No, there were no man o' the earth to Thomas,
If I durst trust him; there is all the doubt.
But, should he have a chink in him, I were gone,
Lost i' my fame for ever: talk for th' Exchange.
The manner he hath stood with, till this present,
Well, come what will, I'll tempt my fortune, once.
Thomas--you may deceive me, but, I hope--
Your love, to me, is more--
CASH
Duty, with faith, may be called love, you are
More than in hope, you are possessed of it.
KITELY
With all my heart, good Thomas. I have, Thomas,
A secret to impart unto you--but
When once you have it, I must seal your lips up:
So far I tell you, Thomas.
CASH
KITELY
When I will let you in, thus, to my private.
It is a thing sits nearer to my crest
Than thou art ware of, Thomas. If thou should'st
Reveal it, but--
CASH
KITELY
I do not think thou would'st; but if thou should'st:
'Twere a great weakness.
CASH
Give it no other name.
KITELY
CASH
KITELY
[Aside]
Some concealed purpose, and close meaning, sure;
Else (being urged so much) how should he choose
But lend an oath to all this protestation?
He's no precisian, that I am certain of.
Nor rigid Roman Catholic. He'll play
At Fayles, and Tick-tack, I have heard him swear.
What should I think of it? Urge him again,
And by some other way? I will do so.
Well, Thomas, thou hast sworn not to disclose;
Yes, you did swear?
CASH
Please you--
KITELY
But; if thou wilt swear, do, as thou think'st good;
I am resolved without it; at thy pleasure.
CASH
My tongue shall ne'er take knowledge of a word
Delivered me in nature of your trust.
KITELY
I know thy faith to be as firm as rock.
Thomas, come hither, near: we cannot be
Too private, in this business. So it is--
[Aside] Now he has sworn, I dare the safelier venture--
I have of late, by divers observations--
Being not taken lawfully? Ha? Say you?
Thomas, it will be now too late to stay,
I'll spy some fitter time soon, or tomorrow.
CASH
KITELY
I pray you search the books 'gainst my return,
For the receipts 'twixt me and Traps.
CASH
KITELY
Chance to bring hither any gentlemen
Ere I come back: let one straight bring me word.
CASH
KITELY
Or here in Coleman Street, to Justice Clement's.
Forget it not, nor be not out of the way.
CASH
KITELY
Or whether he come or no, if any other,
Stranger or else, fail not to send me word.
CASH
KITELY
Now, to remember it.
CASH
KITELY
I told you of.
CASH
KITELY
CASH
KITELY
I would not you should utter it, do you see,
To any creature living, yet, I care not.
Well, I must hence. Thomas, conceive thus much.
It was a trial of you, when I meant
So deep a secret to you, I mean not this,
But that I have to tell you, this is nothing, this.
But, Thomas, keep this from my wife, I charge you,
Locked up in silence, midnight, buried here.
[Exit]
CASH
Whence should this flood of passion (trow) take head? Ha?
Best dream no longer of this running humour,
For fear I sink! The violence of the stream
Already hath transported me so far,
That I can feel no ground at all! But soft,
Oh, 'tis our water-bearer: somewhat has crossed him, now.
[Enter] COB
COB
Fasting days? What would you tell me of fasting days? 'Slid, would they were all on a light fire for me. They say, the whole world shall be consumed with fire one day, but would I had these Ember-weeks and villainous Fridays burnt, in the meantime, and then--
CASH
Why, how now, Cob, what moves thee to this choler? Ha?
Collar, Master Thomas? I scorn your collar, I sir, I am none o' your cart-horse, though I carry, and draw water. An' you offer to ride me, with your collar, or halter either, I may hap show you a jade's trick, sir.
CASH
Oh, you'll slip your head out of the collar? Why, goodman Cob, you mistake me.
COB
Nay, I have my rheum, and I can be angry as well as another, sir.
CASH
Thy rheum, Cob? Thy humour, thy humour! Thou mistak'st.
COB
Humour? Mack, I think it be so, indeed; what is that humour? Some rare thing, I warrant.
CASH
Marry, I'll tell thee, Cob: it is a gentleman-like monster, bred, in the special gallantry of our time, by affectation; and fed by folly.
COB
How? Must it be fed?
CASH
Oh, aye, humour is nothing, if it be not fed. Didst thou never hear that? It's a common phrase, 'Feed my humour'.
COB
I'll none on it: humour, avaunt, I know you not, begone. Let who will make hungry meals for your monstership, it shall not be I. Feed you, quoth he? 'Slid, I ha' much ado to feed myself; especially on these lean rascally days, too; an't had been any other day but a fasting day (a plague on them all for me), by this light, one might have done the commonwealth good service, and have drowned them all i' the flood, two or three hundred thousand years ago. Oh, I do stomach them hugely! I have a maw now, an' 'twere for Sir Bevis his horse, against 'em.
CASH
I pray thee, good Cob, what makes thee so out of love with fasting days?
COB
Marry, that which will make any man out of love with 'em, I think: their bad conditions, an' you will needs know. First, they are of a Flemish breed, I am sure on't, for they ravin up more butter than all the days of the week beside; next, they stink of fish and leek-porridge miserably; thirdly, they'll keep a man devoutly hungry all day, and at night send him supperless to bed.
CASH
Indeed, these are faults, Cob.
COB
Nay, an' this were all, 'twere something, but they are the only known enemies to my generation. A fasting day no sooner comes, but my lineage goes to rack, poor cobs, they smoke for it, they are made martyrs o' the gridiron, they melt in passion: and your maids too know this, and yet would have me turn Hannibal, and eat my own fish and blood. He pulls out a red herring My princely coz, fear nothing: I have not the heart to devour you, an' I might be made as rich as King Cophetua. Oh, that I had room for my tears, I could weep salt water enough, now, to preserve the lives of ten thousand of my kin. But I may curse none but these filthy almanacs, for an't were not for them, these days of persecution would ne'er be known. I'll be hanged, an' some fishmonger's son do not make of 'em; and puts in more fasting days than he should do, because he would utter his father's dried stock-fish, and stinking conger.
CASH
'Slight, peace, thou'lt be beaten like a stock-fish, else: here is Master Matthew. Now must I look out for a messenger to my master.
Act III, Scene iii
[Enter] WELLBRED, EDWARD, BRAINWORM, BOBADILL, MATTHEW [and] STEPHENWELLBRED
Beshrew me, but it was an absolute good jest, and exceedingly well carried!
EDWARD
Aye, and our ignorance maintained it as well, did it not?
WELLBRED
Yes, faith, but was't possible thou should'st not know him? I forgive Master Stephen, for he is stupidity itself!
EDWARD
'Fore God, not I, an' I might have been joined patent with one of the seven wise masters for knowing him. He had so writhen himself into the habit of one of your poor infantry, your decayed, ruinous, worm-eaten gentlemen of the round: such as have vowed to sit on the skirts of the city, let your Provost and his half-dozen of halberdiers do what they can; and have translated begging out of the old hackney pace, to a fine easy amble, and made it run as smooth of the tongue as a shove-groat shilling. Into the likeness of one of these reformados had he moulded himself so perfectly, observing every trick of their action, as varying the accent, swearing with an emphasis, indeed all, with so special and exquisite a grace that (hadst thou seen him) thou wouldst have sworn he might have been sergeant-major, if not lieutenant-colonel to the regiment.
WELLBRED
Why, Brainworm, who would have thought thou hadst been such an artificer?
EDWARD
An artificer! An architect! Except a man had studied begging all his lifetime, and been a weaver of language, from his infancy, for the clothing of it, I never saw his rival!
WELLBRED
Where got'st thou this coat, I mar'l?
BRAINWORM
Of a Houndsditch man, sir. One of the devil's near kinsmen, a broker.
WELLBRED
That cannot be, if the proverb hold; for, a crafty knave needs no broker.
BRAINWORM
True sir, but I did need a broker, ergo.
WELLBRED
Well put off--no crafty knave, you'll say.
EDWARD
Tut, he has more of these shifts.
BRAINWORM
And yet where I have one, the broker has ten, sir.
[Enter CASH]
CASH
Francis, Martin, ne'er a one to be found, now? What a spite's this?
WELLBRED
How now, Thomas? Is my brother Kitely within?
CASH
No sir, my master went forth e'en now; but Master Downright is within. Cob, what, Cob? Is he gone too?
WELLBRED
Whither went your master, Thomas, canst thou tell?
CASH
I know not, to Justice Clement's, I think, sir. Cob!
EDWARD
Justice Clement, what's he?
WELLBRED
Why, dost thou not know him? He is a city magistrate, a justice here, an excellent good lawyer, and a great scholar; but the only mad, merry, old fellow in Europe! I showed him you, the other day.
EDWARD
Oh, is that he? I remember him now. Good faith, and he has a very strange presence, methinks; it shows as if he stood out of the rank from other men. I have heard many of his jests i' university. They say, he will commit a man for taking the wall of his horse.
WELLBRED
Aye, or wearing his cloak of one shoulder, or serving of God: anything indeed, if it come in the way of his humour.
CASH
Goes in and out calling
Gasper, Martin, Cob! 'Heart, where should they be, trow?
BOBADILL
Master Kitely's man, 'pray thee vouchsafe us the lighting of this match.
CASH
Fire on your match, no time but now to vouchsafe? Francis, Cob!
BOBADILL
Body of me! Here's the remainder of seven pound, since yesterday was seven-night. 'Tis your right Trinidado! Did you never take any, Master Stephen?
STEPHEN
No truly, sir; but I'll learn to take it now, since you commend it, so.
BOBADILL
Sir, believe me (upon my relation), for what I tell you, the world shall not reprove. I have been in the Indies (where this herb grows), where neither myself, nor a dozen gentlemen more (of my knowledge) have received the taste of any other nutriment in the world, for the space of one and twenty weeks, but the fume of this simple only. Therefore, it cannot be but 'tis most divine! Further, take it in the nature, in the true kind so, it makes an antidote that, had you taken the most deadly poisonous plant in all Italy, it should expel it, and clarify you, with as much ease as I speak. And, for your green wound, your Balsamum and your St. John's wort are all mere gulleries, and trash to it, especially your Trinidado; your Nicotian is good too. I could say what I know of the virtue of it, for the expulsion of rheums, raw humours, crudities, obstructions, with a thousand of this kind; but I profess myself no quacksalver. Only, thus much, by Hercules, I do hold it, and will affirm it (before any prince in Europe) to be the most sovereign and precious weed that ever the earth tendered to the use of man.
EDWARD
This speech would ha' done decently in a tobacco-trader's mouth!
[Enter CASH and COB]
CASH
At Justice Clement's, he is: in the middle of Coleman Street.
COB
Oh, oh!
BOBADILL
Where's the match I gave thee? Master Kitely's man?
CASH
Would his match, and he, and pipe, and all were at Santo Domingo! I had forgot it.
[Exit]
COB
By God's me, I mar'l what pleasure or felicity they have in taking this roguish tobacco! It's good for nothing but to choke a man, and fill him full of smoke and embers: there were four died out of one house,
BOBADILL beats [COB] with a cudgel
ALL
Oh, good Captain, hold, hold.
BOBADILL
You base cullion, you.
[Enter CASH, with the lighted match]
CASH
Sir, here's your match;
[To COB]come, thou must needs be talking, too, thou'rt well enough served.
COB
Nay, he will not meddle with his match, I warrant you: well, it shall be a dear beating, an' I live.
BOBADILL
Do you prate? Do you murmur?
EDWARD
Nay, good Captain, will you regard the humour of a fool?
[To COB]Away, knave.
WELLBRED
Thomas, get him away.
[Exit CASH and COB]
BOBADILL
A whoreson filthy slave, a dung-worm, an excrement! Body o' Caesar, but that I scorn to let forth so mean a spirit, I'd ha' stabbed him to the earth.
WELLBRED
Marry, the law forbid, sir.
BOBADILL
By Pharaoh's foot, I would have done it.
STEPHEN
[Aside]
Oh, he swears admirably! By Pharaoh's foot! Body o' Caesar! I shall never do it, sure, upon mine honour, and by St. George, no, I ha' not the right grace.
MATTHEW
Master Stephen, will you any? By this air, the most divine tobacco that ever I drunk!
STEPHEN
None, I thank you, sir.
[Exit BOBADILL and MATTHEW]Oh, this gentleman does it rarely too! But nothing like the other. By this air, as I am a gentleman: by-- Practising, to the post
BRAINWORM
[Aside]
Master, glance, glance! Master Wellbred!
STEPHEN
As I have somewhat to be saved, I protest--
WELLBRED
You are a fool; it needs no affidavit.
EDWARD
Cousin, will you any tobacco?
STEPHEN
Aye, sir! Upon my reputation--
EDWARD
How now, cousin!
STEPHEN
I protest, as I am a gentleman, but no soldier, indeed--
WELLBRED
No, Master Stephen? As I remember, your name is entered in the Artillery Garden.
STEPHEN
Aye, sir, that's true: cousin, may I swear, as I am a soldier, by that?
EDWARD
Oh yes, that you may. It's all you have for your money.
STEPHEN
Then, as I am a gentleman, and a soldier, it is divine tobacco!
WELLBRED
But soft, where's Master Matthew? Gone?
BRAINWORM
No, sir, they went in here.
WELLBRED
Oh, let's follow them: Master Matthew is gone to salute his mistress, in verse. We shall ha' the happiness to hear some of his poetry now. He never comes unfurnished. Brainworm?
Brainworm? Where? Is this Brainworm?
EDWARD
Aye, cousin, no words of it, upon your gentility.
STEPHEN
Not I, body of me, by this air, St. George, and the foot of Pharaoh!
WELLBRED
Rare! Your cousin's discourse is simply drawn out with oaths.
EDWARD
'Tis larded with 'em. A kind of French dressing, if you love it.
[Exeunt]
Act III, Scene iv
[Enter] KITELY [and] COBKITELY
Ha? How many are there, sayest thou?
COB
Marry, sir, your brother, Master Wellbred--
KITELY
Tut, beside him: what strangers are there, man?
COB
Strangers? Let me see, one, two: mass, I know not well, there are so many.
KITELY
How? So many?
COB
Aye, there's some five, or six of them, at most.
KITELY
[Aside]
Spite of the devil, how they sting my head
With forkèd stings, thus wide and large!
How long hast thou been coming hither, Cob?
COB
A little while, sir.
KITELY
Didst thou come running?
COB
No, sir.
KITELY
Nay, then I am familiar with thy haste!
[Aside]I, that before was ranked in such content,
My mind at rest too, in so soft a peace,
Being free master of mine own free thoughts,
And now become a slave? What? Never sigh,
Be of good cheer, man: for thou art a cuckold,
'Tis done, 'tis done! Nay, when such flowing store,
Plenty itself, falls in my wife's lap,
The cornu-copiae will be mine, I know. But, Cob,
What entertainment had they? I am sure
My sister, and my wife, would bid them welcome! Ha?
COB
Like enough, sir, yet I heard not a word of it.
KITELY
No: their lips were sealed with kisses, and the voice
Drowned in a flood of joy, at their arrival,
Had lost her motion, state, and faculty.
Cob, which of them was't, that first kissed my wife?
My sister, I should say; my wife, alas,
I fear not her: ha? Who was it, say'st thou?
COB
By my troth, sir, will you have the truth of it?
Oh aye, good Cob: I pray thee, heartily.
COB
Then, I am a vagabond, and fitter for Bridewell than your worship's company, if I saw anybody to be kissed, unless they would have kissed the post in the middle of the warehouse; for there I left them all, at their tobacco, with a pox.
KITELY
How? Were they not gone in, then, ere thou cam'st?
COB
Oh, no, sir.
KITELY
Spite of the devil! What do I stay here, then? Cob, follow me.
[Exit]
COB
Nay, soft and fair, I have eggs on the spit: I cannot go yet, sir. Now am I for some five and fifty reasons hammering, hammering revenge; oh, for three or four gallons of vinegar, to sharpen my wits. Revenge; vinegar revenge; vinegar and mustard revenge; nay, an' he had not lyen in my house, 'twould never have grieved me, but being my guest, one that I'll be sworn my wife has lent him her smock off her back, while his one shirt has been at washing; pawned her neckerchers for clean bands for him; sold almost all my platters, to buy him tobacco; and he to turn monster of ingratitude, and strike his lawful host! Well, I hope to raise up an host of fury for't: here comes Justice Clement.
[Enter] CLEMENT,KNOWELL [and] FORMAL
CLEMENT
What, 's Master Kitely gone? Roger?
FORMAL
Aye, sir.
CLEMENT
'Heart o' me! What made him leave us so abruptly? How now, sirrah? What make you here? What would you have, ha?
COB
An't please your worship, I am a poor neighbour of your worship's--
CLEMENT
A poor neighbour of mine? Why, speak, poor neighbour.
COB
I dwell, sir, at the sign of the Water-tankard, hard by the Green Lattice: I have paid scot and lot there, any time this eighteen years.
CLEMENT
To the Green Lattice?
COB
No, sir, to the parish: marry, I have seldom scaped scot-free, at the Lattice.
CLEMENT
Oh, well! What business has my poor neighbour with me?
COB
An't like your worship, I am come to crave the peace of your worship.
CLEMENT
Of me, knave? Peace of me, knave? Did I e'er hurt thee? Or threaten thee? Or wrong thee? Ha?
COB
No, sir, but your worship's warrant, for one that has wronged me, sir: his arms are at too much liberty, I would fain have them bound to a treaty of peace, an' my credit could compass it with your worship.
CLEMENT
Thou goest far enough about for't, I'm sure.
Why, dost thou go in danger of thy life for him, friend?
COB
No sir; but I go in danger of my death, every hour, by his means: an' I die within a twelve-month and a day, I may swear, by the law of the land, that he killed me.
CLEMENT
How? How knave? Swear he killed thee? And by the law? What pretence? What colour hast thou for that?
COB
Marry, an't please your worship, both black and blue: colour enough, I warrant you. I have it here, to show your worship.
CLEMENT
What is he that gave you this, sirrah?
COB
A gentleman, and a soldier, he says he is, o' the city here.
CLEMENT
A soldier o' the city? What call you him?
COB
Captain Bobadill.
CLEMENT
Bobadill? And why did he bob and beat you, sirrah? How began the quarrel betwixt you: ha? Speak truly, knave, I advise you.
COB
Marry, indeed, an' please your worship, only because I spake against their vagrant tobacco, as I came by 'em, when they were taking on't; for nothing else.
CLEMENT
Ha? You speak against tobacco? Formal, his name.
FORMAL
What's your name, sirrah?
COB
Oliver, sir, Oliver Cob, sir.
CLEMENT
Tell Oliver Cob, he shall go to the jail, Formal.
FORMAL
Oliver Cob, my master, Justice Clement, says, you shall go to the jail.
COB
Oh, I beseech your worship, for God's sake, dear Master Justice.
CLEMENT
Nay, God's precious: an' such drunkards, and tankards, as you are, come to dispute of tobacco once--I have done! Away with him.
COB
Oh, good Master Justice, sweet old gentleman.
KNOWELL
Sweet Oliver, would I could do thee any good: Justice Clement, let me entreat you, sir.
CLEMENT
What? A threadbare rascal! A beggar! A slave that never drunk out of better than piss-pot metal in his life! And he to deprave and abuse the virtue of an herb so generally received in the courts of princes, the chambers of nobles, the bowers of sweet ladies, the cabins of soldiers! Roger, away with him, by God's precious--I say, go to.
COB
Dear Master Justice: let me be beaten again, I have deserved it; but not the prison, I beseech you.
KNOWELL
Alas, poor Oliver!
CLEMENT
Roger, make him a warrant--he shall not go--I but fear the knave.
FORMAL
Do not stink, sweet Oliver, you shall not go, my master will give you a warrant.
COB
Oh, the Lord maintain his worship, his worthy worship.
CLEMENT
Away, dispatch him. [Exeunt FORMAL and COB] How now, Master Knowell! In dumps? In dumps? Come, this becomes not.
KNOWELL
Sir, would I could not feel my cares--
Your cares are nothing! They are like my cap, soon put on, and as soon put off. What? Your son is old enough to govern himself: let him run his course, it's the only way to make him a staid man. If he were an unthrift, a ruffian, a drunkard, or a licentious liver, then you had reason: you had reason to take care; but, being none of these, mirth's my witness, an' I had twice so many cares as you have, I'd drown them all in a cup of sack. Come, come, let's try it; I muse your parcel of a soldier returns not all this while.
[Exeunt]
| Every Man in his Humour | |