der you'd lose a thought upon such an animal! The most peremptory absurd clown of Christendom this day he is holden. I protest to you, as I am a gentleman and a soldier, I ne'er chang'd words with his like. By his discourse, he should eat nothing but hay. He was born for the manger, pannier, or packsaddle! He has not so much as a good phrase in his belly, but all old iron, and rusty proverbs! a good commodity for some smith to make hobnails of.

Mat. Ay, and he thinks to carry it away with his manhood still, where he comes. He brags he will gi' me the bastinado, as I hear.

Bob. How! He the bastinado! How came he by that word, trow?

Mat. Nay, indeed, he said cudgel me: I term'd it so, for my more grace.

Bob. That may be : for I was sure it was none of his word. But when? When said he so ?

Mat. Faith, yesterday, they say: a young gallant friend of mine, told me so.

Bob. By the foot of Pharoah, an' 'twere my case now, I should send him a challenge, presently. Come hither, shall challenge him. I'll show you a trick or two, you shall kill him with, at pleasure: the first stoccata, if you will, by this air.

you

Mat. Indeed you have absolute knowledge i'the mystery, I have heard, sir.

Bob. Of whom? Of whom ha' you heard it, I beseech you?

Mat. Troth, I have heard it spoken of hy divers, that you have very rare and un-in-one-breath-utterable skill, sir.

Bob. By Heaven, no, not I; no skill i'the earth: some small rudiments i'the science, as to know my time, distance, or so. I have profest it more for nobleman and gentleman's use than mine own practice, I assure you. I'll give you a lesson. Look you, sir, Exalt not your point above this state, at any hand; so, sir,

Come on! Oh, twine your body more about, that you may fall to a more sweet, comely, gentlemanlike, guard. So, indifferent. Hollow your body more, sir, thus. Now, stand fast o' your left leg; note your distance: keep your due proportion of time-Oh, you disorder your point most irregularly! Come, put on your cloak, and we'll go to some private place, where you are acquainted, some tavern, or so-and have a bit--What money ha' you about you, Mr. Matthew?

Mat. Faith, I ha' not past a two shillings, or so.

Bob. Tis somewhat with the least; but, come, we will have a bunch of radishes, and salt, to taste our wine; and a pipe of tobacco, to close the orifice of the stomach; and then we'll call upon young Wellbred. Perhaps we shall meet Corydon, his brother, there, and put him to the question. Come along, Mr. Matthew. [Exeunt.

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I.

A Warehouse, belonging to KITELY.

Enter KITELY, CASH, and DOWNRIGHT.

Kite. Thomas, come hither.

There lies a note within, upon my desk,

Here take my key-it is no matter, neither.
Where is the boy?

Cash. Within, sir, i'the warehouse.

Kite. Let him tell over straight that Spanish gold, And weigh it, with the pieces of eight. Do you See the delivery of those silver stuffs

To Master Lucar. Tell him, if he will,

He shall ha' the grograms at the rate I told him,
And I will meet him, on the Exchange, anon,

Cash. Good, sir.

[Exit.

Kite. Do you see that fellow, brother Downright ?
Down. Ay, what of him?

Kite. He is a jewel, brother.

I took him of a child, up, at my door,

And christened him; gave my own name, Thomas:
Since bred him at the hospital; Where proving
A toward imp, I call'd him home, and taught him
So much, as I have made him my cashier,
And find him, in his place, so full of faith,
That I durst trust my life into his hands.

Down. So would not I, in any bastard's, brother, As it is like, he is, although I knew

Myself his father. But you said you'd somewhat
To tell me, gentle brother. What is't? What is't?
Kite. Faith, I am very loth to utter it,

As fearing it may hurt your patience :

But that I know your judgment is of strength,
Against the nearness of affection-

Down. What need this circumstance? Pray you be direct.

Come to the matter, the matter,

Kite. Then, without further ceremony, thus.

My brother Wellbred, sir, I know not how,
Of late is much declin'd in what he was,
And greatly alter'd in his disposition.

When he came first to lodge here in my house,
Ne'er trust me, if I were not proud of him :
But now his course is so irregular,
So loose, affected, and depriv'd of grace;

He makes my house here, common, as a mart,
And here, as in a tavern or a stew,

He and his wild associates spend their hours,
In repetition of lascivious jests:

Swear, leap, drink, dance, and revel night by night,
Controll my servants: and, indeed, what not.

Down. 'Sdains, I know not what I should say to him i'the whole world! He values me at a crack'd three It will never out o'the farthings, for aught I see. flesh that's bred i'the bone! I have told him enough, one would think, if that would serve. Well, he knows what to trust to, for George. Let him spend, and spend, and domineer, till his heart ache; an' he think to be relieved by me, when he is got into one o' your city pounds, the counters, he has the wrong sow by the ear, i' faith, and claps his dish at a wrong man's door. I'll lay my hand on my halfpenny, ere I part with❜t to fetch him out, I'll assure him.

Kite. Nay, good brother, let it not trouble you, thus.

Down. 'Sdeath, he made me--I could eat my very spur leathers, for anger! But, why are you so tame? Why do not you speak to him, and tell him how he disquiets your house?

Kite. Oh, there are divers reasons to dissuade, bro-
ther;

But, would yourself vouchsafe to travail in it,
Though but with plain and easy circumstance,
It would both come much better to his sense,
And favour less of stomach, or of passion.
You are his elder brother, and that title
Both gives and warrants you authority:
Whereas, if I should intimate the least,
It would but add contempt to his neglect;
He would be ready, from his heat of humour,
To blow the ears of his familiars

With the false breath of telling what disgrace
And low disparagements I had put on him:

D

Whilst they, sir, to relieve him in the fable,
Make their loose comments upon ev'ry word,
Gesture, or look, I use; mock me all o'er;

Beget some slander, that shall dwell with me.
And what would that be, think you? Marry, this;
They would give out, because my wife is fair,
Myself but newly married, and my sister
Here sojourning a virgin in my house,
That I were jealous! Nay, as sure as death,
That they would say. And how that I had quarrell'd
My brother purposely, thereby to find

An apt pretext to banish them my house.

Down. Mass, perhaps so: they're like enough to do it.

Kite. Brother, they would, believe it so should But try experiments upon myself:

Lend scorn and envy opportunity

To stab my reputation and good name.

Enter MATTHEW and BOBADIL.

Mat. I will speak to him

Bob. Speak to him! Away! by the foot of Pharoah, shall not do him that grace.

you shall not; you

Kite. What is the matter, sirs?

Bob. The time of day to you, gentleman o'the house. Is Mr. Wellbred stirring?

Down. How then?-what should he do?

Bob. Gentleman of the house, it is you :-Is he within, sir?

Kite. He came not to his lodging to-night, sir, I assure you.

Down. Why, do you hear, you!

Bob. The gentleman citizen hath satisfied me; I'll talk to no scavenger.

[Exeunt BOB. and Mât.

Down. How, scavenger!-Stay, sir, stay!

Kite. Nay, brother Downright

Down. Heart! stand you away, an' you love me.