Every Man in his Humour :: :: University of Virginia Library

Act I

Act II

Act III, Scene ii

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Act III, Scene ii

[Enter] KITELY [and] CASH
KITELY

What says he, Thomas? Did you speak with him?

CASH

He will expect you, sir, within this half hour.

KITELY

Has he the money ready, can you tell?

CASH

Yes, sir, the money was brought in last night.

KITELY

Oh, that's well; fetch me my cloak, my cloak.

[Exit CASH]

Stay, let me see, an hour, to go and come;
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

To taste the fruit of beauty's golden tree,
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.

[Enter CASH, with cloak]

Carry in my cloak again. Yet, stay. Yet, do, too.
I will defer going, on all occasions.

CASH

Sir. Snare, your scrivener, will be there with th' bonds.

KITELY

That's true! Fool on me! I had clean forgot it,
I must go. What's o'clock?

CASH

Exchange time, sir.

KITELY
[Aside]

'Heart, then will Wellbred presently be here, too, With one or other of his loose consorts.

I am a knave if I know what to say,
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

Sir.

KITELY
[Aside]

Yet now I have bethought me, too, I will not.
Thomas, is Cob within?

CASH

I think he be, sir.

KITELY
[Aside]

But he'll prate too, there's no speech of him.
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,

Doth promise no such change! What should I fear then?
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

Sir, if a servant's
Duty, with faith, may be called love, you are
More than in hope, you are possessed of it.

KITELY

I thank you, heartily, Thomas; gi' me your hand;
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

Sir, for that--

KITELY

Nay, hear me out. Think I esteem you, Thomas,
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

How? I reveal it?

KITELY

Nay,
I do not think thou would'st; but if thou should'st:
'Twere a great weakness.

CASH

A great treachery.
Give it no other name.

KITELY

Thou wilt not do't, then?

CASH

Sir, if I do, mankind disclaim me, ever.

KITELY
[Aside]

He will not swear, he has some reservation,
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

Not yet, sir, but I will,
Please you--

KITELY

No, Thomas, I dare take thy word.
But; if thou wilt swear, do, as thou think'st good;
I am resolved without it; at thy pleasure.

CASH

By my soul's safety then, sir, I protest.
My tongue shall ne'er take knowledge of a word
Delivered me in nature of your trust.

KITELY

It's too much, these ceremonies need not,
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--

[Aside]

But whether his oath can bind him, yea or no,
Being not taken lawfully? Ha? Say you?

I will ask counsel, ere I do proceed--
Thomas, it will be now too late to stay,
I'll spy some fitter time soon, or tomorrow.

CASH

Sir, at your pleasure.

KITELY

I will think. And, Thomas,
I pray you search the books 'gainst my return,
For the receipts 'twixt me and Traps.

CASH

I will, sir.

KITELY

And, hear you, if your mistress' brother, Wellbred,
Chance to bring hither any gentlemen
Ere I come back: let one straight bring me word.

CASH

Very well, sir.

KITELY

To the Exchange; do you hear?
Or here in Coleman Street, to Justice Clement's.
Forget it not, nor be not out of the way.

CASH

I will not, sir.

KITELY

I pray you have a care on't.
Or whether he come or no, if any other,
Stranger or else, fail not to send me word.

CASH

I shall not, sir.

KITELY

Be't your special business
Now, to remember it.

CASH

Sir. I warrant you.

KITELY

But, Thomas, this is not the secret, Thomas,
I told you of.

CASH

No, sir. I do suppose it.

KITELY

Believe me, it is not.

CASH

Sir. I do believe you.

KITELY

By heaven, it is not, that's enough. But, Thomas,
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.

[Aside]

No greater hell, than to be slave to fear.

[Exit]
CASH

'Locked up in silence, midnight, buried here'.
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?

COB

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.

[Exeunt]