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Slep. Not you, sir ! you were not best, sir ; an' you should, here be them can perceive it, and

[The Letter.] that quickly too: go to. And they can give it

Why, Ned, I beseech thee, bast thou foreagain soundly too, an' need be.

sworn all thy friends i’ the Old Jewry? or dost Serr. Why, sir, let this satisfy you: good faith,

*thou think us all Jews that inhabit there? Yet I had no such intent.

<if thou dost, come over, and but see our fripSlep. Sir, an' I thought you had, I would talk pery; change an old shirt for a whole smock with you, and that presently.

• with us: Do not conceive that antipathy beSero. Good master Stephen, so you may, sir,

tween us and liogsden, as was between Jews at your pleasure.

and hog's-flesh. Leave thy vigilant father alone, ślep. And so I would, sir, good my saucy

to number over his green apricots, evening and companion, an' you were out of my uncle's morning, o’the north-west wall: an' I had been ground, I can tell you ; though I do not stand

• bis son, I had saved him the labour long since; upon my gentility neither, in it.

• if taking in all the young wenches that pass by, Kno. Cousin ! cousin! will this ne'er be left? at the back door, and coddling every kernel of Step. Whoreson, base fellow? a mechanical • the fruit for them would have served. But priserving man? By this cudgel, an' 'twere not for thee, come over to me, quickly, this morning : shame, I would

* I have such a present for thee! Our Turkey Kno. What would you do, you peremptory gull?company never sent the like to the Grand SigIf you cannot be quiet, get you hence.

nior. One is a rhimer, sir, o' your own batch, You see the bonest man demeans himself your own leven; but doth think himself poetModestly towards you, giving no reply

major o' the town; willing to be shewn, and To your unseasoned, quarrelling, rude fashion: * worthy to be seen.— The other-I will not venAnd still you huff it, with a kind of carriage,

'ture his description with you till you come, beAs void of wit as of humanity.

cause I would have you make hither with an Go, get you in! 'fore Heaven, I am ashamed appetite. If the worst of them be not worth Thou hast a kinsman's interest in me.

your journey, draw your bill of charges, as in.

(Exit STEPHEN. conscionable as any Guild-hall verdict will give Sero. I pray, sir, is this master Kno'well's ‘it you, and you shall be allowed your viaticum. house?

From the Windmill.' Kro. Yes, marry, is it, sir.

Sert. I should inquire for a gentleman here, From the Burdello, it might come as well; one master Edward Kno'well: do you know any The Spittal, or Pict-hatch. Is this the man, such, sir, I pray you?

My son hath sung so, for the happiest wit, kno. I should forget myself else, sir.

The choicest brain, the times have sent us forth? Sert. Are you the gentleman? cry your mer

I know not what he may be in the arts; , sir : I was required by a gentleman in the city, Nor what in schools: but, surely, for his manners, as I rode out at this end of the town, to deliver I judge him a profane and dissolute wretch: you this letter, sir.

Worse, by possession of such great good gifts, Kno. To me, sir ? What do you mean? Pray Being the master of so loose a spirit. you remember your court'sie. [To his most seleci. Why, what unhallowed ruffian would have writ ed friend, master EDWARD KNO'WELL.] What In such a scurrilous manner to a friend? might the gentleman's name be, sir, that sent it? Why should be think, I tell my apricots ? Nay, pray you be covered.

Or play the Ilesperian dragon with my fruit, Sere. One master Well-bred, sir.

To watch it? Well, my son, I thought Kno. Master Well-bred! A young gentleman, 1 You'd had more judgment to have made election is he not?

Of your companions, than to have ta'en on trust Serr. The same, sir; master Kitely married Such petulant, jeering gainesters, that can spare tuis sister: the rich merchant in the old Jewry. No argument, or subject from their jest. Kno. You say very true. Brain-worm! But I perceive, affection makes a fool

Of any man, too much the father. Brain-worm,

Brain. Sir.
Kno. Make this honest friend drink here.- Brain. Sir.
Pray you go in.

Kno. Is the fellow gone, that brought this letter? [Ércunl BRAIN-WORM and Servant. Brain. Yes, sir, a pretty while since. This letter is directed to my son :

Kno. And where's your young master? Yet I am Edward Kno'well too, and may,

Brain. In his chamber, sir. With the safe conscience of good manners, use

Kno. Ile spake not with the fellow, did he? The fellow's error to my satisfaction.

Brain. No, sir, he saw him not. Well, I will break it ope (old men are curious) Kno. Take you this letter, and deliver it to my Be it but for the style's sake, and the phrase,

son; To see if both do answer my son's praises,

But with no notice, that I've opened it, on your Who is almost grown the idolater

life. of this young Well-bred: What have wc here? Brain. O lord, sir, that were a jest indeed! What's this?

Kno. I am resolved I will not stop his journey;

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Nor practise any violent means to stay

tellst me on't. How dost thou like my leg, The unbridled course of youth in him; for that, Brain-worm? Restrained, grows more impatient; and in kind, Brain. A very good leg, master Stephen; but Like to the eager, but the gen'rous greyhound, the woollen stocking does not recommend it so Who, ne'er so little from his game withheld, well. Turns head, and leaps up at his holder's throat. Step. Foh, the stockings be good enough now There is a way of winning, more by love, summer is coming on, for the dust: I will have a And urging of the modesty, than fear:

pair of silk against winter, that I go to dwell in Force works on servile natures, not the free. the town. I think my leg would shew in a silk He, that's compelled to goodness, may be good; hose. But, 'tis but for that fit: where others, drawn Brain. Believe me, master Stephen, rarely well. By softness, and example, get a habit.

Step. In sadness, I think it would ; I have a Then, if they stray, but warn them; and the same reasonable good leg. They would for virtue do, they'll do for shame. Brain. You have an excellent good leg, master

[Exeunt. Stephen ; but I cannot stay to praise it longer

now; and I am very sorry fort. [Erit. SCENE II.-Young KNO'WELL's Study. Step. Another time will serve, Brain-worm.-

Gra-mercy for this.
E. Kno. Did he open it, say'st thou?

Enter Young KNO'WELL.
Brain. Yes, o'my word, sir, and read the con- E. Kno. Ha, ha, ha!

Step. 'Slid! I hope he laughs not at me; an' E. Kno. That scarce contents me. What coun- he dotenance, pray thee, made he in the reading of it? E. Kno. Here was a letter, indeed, to be interWas he angry, or pleased ?

cepted by a man's father, and do him good with Brain. Nay, sir, I saw him not read it, nor him! He cannot but think most virtuously both open it, I assure your worship.

of me and the sender, sure, that make the careE. Kno. No! how know'st thou, then, that he ful coster-monger of him in our familiar epistles. did either!

Well, if he read this with patience, I'll be gelt, Brain. Marry, sir, because he charged me, on and troll ballads for Mr John Trundle yonder, my life, to tell nobody that he opened it: which, the rest of my mortality. It is true, and likely, unless he had done, he would never fear to have my father may have as much patience as another it revealed.

man; for he takes much physic; and oft taking E. Kno. That's true: well, I thank thee, Brain physic makes a man very patient. But would worm.

[Erit. your packet, master Wellbred, had arrived at

him in such a minute of his patience; then we Enter Muster STÉPHEN.

had known the end of it, which now is doubtful, Step. Oh! Brain-worm, did'st thou not see a and threatens—what? my wise consin! nay, fellow here, in a what sha'-call him doublet? He then, I'll furnish our feast with one gull more to brought mine uncle a letter e'en now.

ward the mess. He writes to me of a brace, and Brain. Yes, master Stephen, what of him? here's one, that's three! O, for a fourth! ForStep: Oh! I ha' such a mind to beat him tune! if ever thou'lt use thine eyes, I entreat where is he can'st thou tell?

thee Brain. Faith, he is not of that mind: he is Step. 0, now I see who he laughed at. He gone, master Stephen.

laughed at somebody in that letter. By this good Step. Gone! which way? when went he? how light, an' he had laughed at me long since ?

E. Kno. How now, cousin Stephen, melanBrain. He is rid hence. He took horse at the choly? street door.

Siep. Yes, a little. I thought you had laughed Step. And I staid i' the fields ! whoreson, scan- at me, cousin. derberg rogue ! O that I had but a horse to fetch E. Kno. Why, what an' I had, coz, what would him back again!

you ha' done? Brain. Why, you may ha' my mistress's geld- Step. By this light, I would ha' told mine uning to save your longing, sir.

cle. Step. But I ha' no boots, that's the spite on't. E. Kno. Nay, if you would ha' told your un

Brain. Why, a fine wisp of hay, roled hard, cle, I did laugh at you, coz. master Stephen.

Step. Did you, indeed? Step. No, faith, it's no boot to follow him now; E. Kno. Yes, indeed. let him e'en go and hang. Prithee, help to truss Slep. Why, then me a little. He does so vex me

E. Kno. What then? Brain. You'll be worse vexed when you are Step. I am satisfied; it is sufficient. trussed, master .Stephen. Best keep unbraced, E. Kno. Why, be so, gentle coz. And I pray and walk yourself till you be cold; your choler you, let me entrcat a courtesy of you. I am sent may founder you else.

for this morning, by a friend' i' the Old Jewry, to Step. By my faith, and so I will, now thou I come to him : 'tis but crossing o'er the field to

Moor-gate : will you bear me company? I pro- Mat. Thy lineage, monsieur Cob? What litest, it is not to draw you into bond, or any plot neage? What lineage? against the state, coz.

Cob. Why, sir, an ancient lineage and a princeStep. Şir, that's all one, an' 'twere; you shall ly, Mine ancestry came from a king's belly, no command me, twice as far as Moor-gate, to do worse man: and yet no man neither (by your you good, in such a matter. Do you think I worship's leave, I did lye in that,) but Herring would leave you? I protest

the king of fish, (from his belly I proceed) one o E. Kno. No, no, you shall not protest, coz. the monarchs o' the world I assure you. The

Step. By my fackins, but I will by your leave; first red herring that was broil'd in Adam and I will protest more to my friend, than I will Eve's kitchen, do I fetch my pedigree from, by speak of at this time.

the Harrot's book. His Cob was my great-greatE. Kno. You speak very well, coz.

mighty-great grandfather. Step. Nay, not so, neither; you shall pardon Mat. Why mighty? Why mighty? I pray thee. me: but I speak to serve my turn.

Cob. Oh, it was a mighty while ago, sir, and a E. Kno. Your turn, coz! Do you know what mighty great Cob. you say? A gentleman of your sort, parts, car- Mat. How know'st thou that? riage, and estimation, to talk of your turn in this Cob. How know I? why, I smell his ghost, ever company, and to me, alone, like a water-bearer and anon. at a conduit ! fie! a wight, that, hitherto, his Mat. Smell a ghost? Oh unsavoury jest ! and every step hath left the stamp of a great foot be the ghost of a herring, Cob? hind him, at every word the savour of a strong Cob. Aye, sir, with favour of your worship's spirit; and he! this man, so graced, so gilded, nose, Mr Matthew, why not the ghost of a heror, to use a more fit metaphor, so tin-foild by na- ring-cob, as well as the ghost of Rasher-bacon? ture, as not ten house-wives' pewter (again' a Mat. Roger Bacon thou wouldst say? good time) shews more bright to the world than Cob. I say Rasher-Bacon. They were both he! and he (as I said last, so I say again, and broil'd o’th coals; and a man may smell broiled still shall say it) this man! to conceal such real meat, I hope ? You are a scholar ; upsolve me ornaments as these, and shadow their glory, as that now. a milliner's wife does her wrought stomacher, with Mat. Oh, raw ignorance ! Cob, canst thou a smoky lawn, or a black cypress ? Oh, coz! it shew me of a gentleman, one Captain Bobadil, cannot be answered, go not about it. Drake's old where his lodging is? ship, at Deptford, may sooner circle the world Cob. O, my guest, sir, you mean! again. Come, wrong not the quality of your de- Mut. Thy guest! Alas! ha, ha. sert, with looking downward, coz; but hold up Cob. Why do you laugh, sir? Do you not mean your head, so; and let the idea of what you are Captain Bobadil? be pourtrayed in your face, that men may read Mat. Cob, pray thee, advise thyself well : do in your physiognomy, 'here, within this place, is not wrong the gentleman and thyself too. I dare to be seen the true, rare, and accomplished mon- be sworn he scorns thy house. He! he lodge ster, or miracle of nature,' which is all one. What in such a base, obscure place as thy house ! Tut, think you of this, coz?

I know his disposition so well, he would not lie Step. Why, I do think of it; and I will be more in thy bed, if thou would'st give it him. proud, and melancholy, and gentleman-like, than Cob. I will not give it him, though, sir. Mass, I have been, I'll assure you.

I thought somewhat was in it we could not get E Kno. Why, that's resolute, master Stephen! him to-bed, all night! Well, sir, though he lies Now, if I can but hold him up to his height, as not on my bed, he lies on my bench. And if it it is happily begun, it will do well for a suburb- please you to go in, sir; you shall find him with humour: we may hap have a match with the city, two cushions under his head, and his cloak wrile and play him for forty pounds. Come, coz. ped about him, as though he had neither won nor Step. I'll follow you.

lost; and yet, I warrant, he never cast better in E. Kno. Follow me? you must go before. his life, than he has done to-night.

Slep. Nay, an' I must, I will. Pray you shew Mat. Why, was he drunk? me, good cousin.

(Ereunt. Cob. Drunk, sir! you hear not me say so.

Perhaps he swallowed a tavern-token, or some SCENE III.-The Street before COB's House. such device, sir: I have nothing to do withal. I Enter Master MATTHEW,

deal with water, and not with wine. Give ine my

tankard there, hoa. God be with you, sir, it is Mat. I think this be the house. What, hoa! six o'clock: I should have carried two turns by Enter Cob, from the House.

this. What hoa ! my stopple! come.

Mat. Lie in a water-bearer's house ! A genCob. Who is there? 0, Master Matthew! give tleman of his havings! Well, I'll tell him my min ; your worship good morrow.

Cob. What, Tib ! shew this gentleman up to Mat. What, Cob! How dost thou, good Cob? | the captain.--[TiB shews Master Mat. into the Dost thou inhabit here, Cob?

house.] Oh, an my house were the Brazenhead! Cob. Ay, sir, I and my lineage ha' kept a poor | Faith, it would e'en speak mo fools yet. You house here in our days.

should have some now, would take this Mr Mat

as some are.

thew to be a gentleman at the least. His father Mat. Faith, some half hour to seven. Now, is an honest man, a worshipful fish-monger, and trust me, you have an exceeding fine lodging here, so forth ; and now does he creep, and wriggle very neat, and private ! into acqua intance with all the brave gallants about Bob. Ay, sir : sit down. I pray you, Master the town, such as my guest is. O, my guest is a Matthew, in any case, possess no gentleman of fine man! and they flout him invincibly. He our acquaintance with notice of my lodging. useth every day to a merchant's house (where I Mat. Who? I, sir! No. serve water) one Master Kitely's i'th' Old Jewry; Boh. Not that I need to care who know it, and here's the jest, he's in love with my master's for the cabin is convenient; but in regard I sister, Mistress Bridget, and calls her mistress : would not be too popular and generally visited, and there he will sit you a whole afternoon, sometimes reading o' these same abominable, vile, (a Mat. True, captain, I conceive you. pox on 'em! I cannot abide 'em) rascally verses, Bob. For, do you see, sir, by the heart of povetry, poyetry, and speaking of enterludes, valour in me, except it be to some peculiar and twill make a man burst to hear him. And the choice spirits, to whom I am extraordinarily engawenches, they so jear and ti-hee at him—well, ged, as yourself, or so, I could not extend thus far. should they do so much to me, I'd forswear them Mut. O lord, sir, I resolve so. all by the foot of Pharaoh. There's an oath! Bob. I confess, I love a cleanly and quiet priHow many water-bearers shall you hear swear vacy, above all the tumult and roar of fortune. such an oath? Oh, I have a guest, (he teaches what new book ha' you there? Read it. What ! me) he does swear the legiblest of any man chris-Go by, Hieronymo?" tened: by St George-the foot of Pharaoh- Mai. Aye, did you ever see it acted ? Is't not the body o' me,-as I am a gentleman, and a well penn'd! soldier; such dainty oaths! and withall, he does Bob. Well penn'd! I would fain see all the take this same filthy roguish tobacco, the finest poets of these times pen such another play as and cleanliest ! it would do a man good to see the that was! They'll prate and swagger, and keep a fume come forth at's tonnels ! Well, he owes me stir of art and devices, when, as I am a gentleforty shillings, my wife lent him out of her purse man, read 'em, they are the most shallow, piby six-pence a time, besides his lodging. I would tiful, barren fellows, that live upon the face of I had it! I shall ha' it, he says, the next action. the earth again. Helter skelter, hang sorrow, care 'll kill a cat, up- Mat. Indeed, here are a number of fine speechtails all, and a louse for the hangman. [Erit. es in this book. "Oh eyes, no eyes, but fountains

fraught with tears !'- There's a conceit! FounSCENE IV.- A Room in Cob's House. BOBA- tains fraught with tears ! ‘Oh, world, no world,

DIL discovered upon a bench. TiB enters to him. but mass of public wrongs !'-A third, Con. Bob. Hostess, hostess !

fus'd and fill'd with murder and misdeeds!-A Tib. What say you, sir?

fourth !-Oh, the muses !' Is't not excellent? Bob. A cup o' thy small-beer, sweet hostess. Is't not simply the best that ever you heard, cap

Tib. Sir, there's a gentleman below would tain; Ha! how do you like it? speak with you.

Bub. 'Tis good. Bob. A gentleman !'ods so, I'm not within. Mat. [Reads.] • To thee, the purest object of Tib. My husband told him you were, sir.

my sense, Bob. What a plague-what meant he? • The most refined essence Heaven covers, Mat. (l'ithin.) Captain Bobadil!

• Send I these lines, wherein I do commence Bob. Who's there?- Take away the bason, The happy state of turtle-billing lovers.' good hostess. Come up, sir.

* If they prove rough, unpolished, harsh, and rude, Tib. He would desire you to come up, sir. You * Haste made the waste. Thus mildly I conclude. come into a cleanly house here.

Bob. "Tis good; proceed, proceed. Where's this?

Mat. This, sir ? a toy o'mine own, in my nonEnter Master MATTHEW.

age: the infancy of my muses. But, when will Alat. 'Save you, sir; 'save you, captain. you come and see my study? Good faith, I can

Bob. Gentle Master Matthew! is it you, sir ? shew you some very good things, I have done of Please you, sit down.

late---That boot becomes your leg passing well, Mat. Thank you, good captain: you may see captain, methinks. I am somewhat audacious.

Bob. So, so; it's the fashion gentlemen now use. Bob. Not so, sir. I was requested to supper, Mat. Troth, captain, and now you speak o' last night, by a sort of gallants, where you were the fashion, Master Well-bred's elder brother wished for, and drank to, I assure you.

and I are fallen out exceedingly: this other day, Mat. Vouchsafe me by whom, good captain. I happened to enter into some discourse of a Bob, Marry, by young Well-bred, and others. hanger, which, I assure you, both for fashion and Why, hostess! a stool here for this gentleman. workmanship, was most peremptory-beautiful, Mat. No haste, sir, 'tis very well.

and gentleman-like; yet he condemned, and criBob. Body of me! It was so late ere we part- ed it down, for the most pied and ridiculous that ed last night, I can scarce open my eyes yet : 1

ever he saw. was but new risen as you came. How passes Bob. 'Squire Downright, the half-brother, was't the day abroad, sir? can you tell?


Mat. Ay, sir, George Downright.

fence, thus ; (Enter Hostess with a bedstaff.] Bob. Hang him, rook! He ! why, he has no Give it the gentleman, and leave us. So, sir. more judgment than a malt horse. By St. Come on! O, twine your body more about, that George, I wonder you'd lose one thought upon you may fall to a more sweet, comely, gentlesuch an animal ! the most peremptory absurd man-like guard. So, indifferent. Hollow your clown of Christendom, this day, he is bolden. Ibody more, sir, thus. Now, stand fast o' your protest to you, as I am a gentleman and a sol- left leg; note your distance; keep your due prodier, I ne'er changed words with his like. By portion of time-Oh, you disorder your point his discourse, he should eat nothing but hay. inost irregularly ! He was born for the manger, pannier, or pack- Mut. How is the bearing of it now, sir? saddle! He has not so much as a good phrase in Bob. Oh, out of measure ill! a well experienhis belly, but all old iron and rusty proverbs! a ced hand would pass upon you at pleasure. good commodity for some smith to make hob- Mat. How mean you, sir, pass upon me? nails of

Bob. Why thus, sir,—(make a thrust at me) Mat. Ay, and he thinks to carry it away with come in upon the answer, controul your point, his manhood still, where he comes. He brags he and make a full career at the body. The best will gi' me the bastinado, as I hear.

practis'd gallants of the time, nam it a passada ; Bib. How! he the bastinado! how came he a most desperate thrust, believe it! by that word, trow?

Mat. Well, come sir! Mat. Nay, indeed, he said cudgel me; I term- Bob. Why, you do not manage your weapon ed it so, for my more grace.

with any grace or facility to invite me! I have Bob. That may be: for I was sure, it was no spirit to play with you. Your dearth of judgnone of his word. But when? when said he so ? ment renders you tedious. Mat, Faith, yesterday, they say: a young gal

Mut. But one venue, sir. lant, a friend of mine, told me so.

Bob. Venue! Fy! most gross denomination Bab. By the foot of Pharaoh, an' 'twere my as ever I heard. Oh, the stoccata, while you case, now, I should send him a challenge, pre- live, sir: note that. Come, put on your cloak, sently. The bastinado! A most proper, and and we'll go to a private place, where you are sufficient dependence, warranted by the great acquainted, some tavern, or so--and have a bit-Caranza. Come hither, you shall challenge him; I'll send for one of those fencers, and he shall I'll shew you a trick or two, you shall kill him breathe you, by my direction ; and then I will with, at pleasure : the first stoccata, if you will, teach you your trick. You shall kill him with it by this air.

at the first, if you please. Why, I will learn you Mat. Indeed, you have absolute knowledge i' by the true judgment of the eye, hand, and foot, the mystery, I have heard, sir.

to controul any enemy's point i'th' world. Should Bob. Of whom? Of whom ha' you heard it, your adversary confront you with a pistol, 'twere I beseech you?

nothing, by this hand! You should by the same Met. Troth, I have heard it spoken of by rule, controul his bullet in a line, except it were divers, that you have very rare and un-in-one- hail-shot, and spread. What money ha' you breath-utterable skill, sir.

about you, master Matthew ? Bob. By Heaven, no, not I; no skill ithe Mat. Faith, I have not past a two shillings, earth! some small rudiments i' the science, as to know my time, distance, or so. I have profest it

Bob. 'Tis somewhat with the least: but come, more for noblemen and gentlemen's use than we will have a bunch of raddishes, and salt, to mine ovn practice, I assure you. Hostess, ac- taste our wine ; and a pipe of tobacco, to close commodate us with another bedstaff here, quick- the orifice of the stomach: and then we will call ly; lend us another bedstaff! The woman does upon young Well-bred. Perhaps we shall meet not understand the words of action. Look you, the Corydon, his brother, there, and put him to sir : exalt not your point above this state, at any the question.

(Ereunt, hand, and let your poniard maintain your de

or so.


Kite. Let him tell over, straight, that Spanish SCENE I.-A Warchouse belonging to KITELY.


And weigh it, with the pieces of eight. Do you Enter KiteLY, CASH, and DOWNRIGHT.

See the delivery of those silver stutts Kite. Thomas, come hither.

To Master Lucar. Tell him, if he will, There lies a note within, upon my desk ; He shall have the grograns at the rate I told him, Here, take my key- It is no matter, nei- And I will meet him, on the Exchange, anon. ther.

Cush. Good, sir.

[Erit. Where is the boy?

Kite. Do you see that fellow, brother Downright? Cash. Within, sir, in the warehouse.

Down. Ay, what of him?


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