E. Kno. Aye, believe me, may you, sir; and, in my conceit, our whole nation should sustain the loss by it, if it were so. Bob. Alas, no! What's a peculiar man to a nation? Not seen. E. Kno. O, but your skill, sir! Bob. Indeed, that might be some loss; but who respects it? I will tell you, sir, by the way of private, and under seal, I am a gentleman, and live here obscure, and to myself: but were I known to his majesty, and the lords, observe me, I would undertake, upon this poor head and life, for the public benefit of the state, not only to spare the entire lives of his subjects in general, but to save the one half, nay, three parts of his yearly charge in holding war, and against what enemy soever. And how would I do it, think you? E. Kno. Nay, I know not, nor can I conceive. Bob. Why thus, sir. I would select nineteen more to myself, throughout the land; gentlemen they should be, of good spirit, strong and able constitution; I would chuse them by an instinct, a character that I have; and I would teach these nineteen the special rules, as, your Punto, your Reverso, your Stoccata, your Imbroccata, your Passada, your Montanto; till they could all play very near, or altogether, as well as myself. This done, say the enemy were forty thousand strong; we twenty would come into the field the tenth of March, or thereabouts; and we would challenge twenty of the enemy; they could not, in their honour, refuse us! Well, we would kill them; challenge twenty more, kill them; twenty more, kill them; twenty more, kill them too; and thus would we kill every man his twenty a day, that's twenty score; twenty score, that's two hundred; two hundred a day, five days a thousand; forty thousand; forty times five, five times forty, two hundred days, kill them all up by computation. And this I will venture my poor gentleman-like carcase to perform, provided there be no treason practised upon us, by fair and discreet manhood, that is, civilly, by the sword. E. Kno. Why are you so sure of your hand, captain, at all times? Bob. Tut, never miss thrust, upon my reputation with you. E. Kno. I would not stand in Downright's state, then, an' you meet him, for the wealth of any one street in London. Bob. Why, sir, you mistake! If he were here now, by this welkin, I would not draw my weapon on him! Let this gentleman do his mind: but I will bastinado him, by the bright sun, wherever I meet him. Mat. Faith, and I'll have a fling at him, at my distance. Enter DOWNRIGHT, walking over the stage. E. Kno. God's so! look ye where he is; yonder he goes. Dow. What peevish luck have I, I cannot meet with these bragging rascals! Bob. It's not he, is it? E. Kno. Yes, faith, it is he! Mat. I'll be hanged then, if that were he. E. Kno. I assure you that was he. Step. Upon my reputation, it was he. Bob. Had I thought it had been he, he must not have gone so: but I can hardly be induced to believe it was he yet. E. Kno. That I think, sir. But see, he is come again! Dow. O, Pharaoh's foot! have I found you? Come, draw; to your tools. Draw, gipsey, or I'll thresh you. Bob. Gentleman of valour, I do believe in thee; hear me Dow. Draw your weapon, then. Bob. Tall man, I never thought on't till now; body of me! I had a warrant of the peace served on me even now, as I came along, by a waterbearer; this gentleman saw it, Master Matthew. [He beats him, and disarms him. MATTHEW Dow. 'Sdeath, you will not draw, then? Dow. Prate again, as you like this, you whoreson foist you. You will controul the point, you! Your consort is gone; had he staid, he had shared with you, sir. [Exit DowNRight. E. Kno. Twenty, and kill them; twenty more, kill them too. Ha, ha! Bob. Well, gentlemen, bear witness, I was bound to the peace, by this good day. E. Kno. No, faith, it's an ill day, captain; never reckon it other: but say you were bound to the peace; the law allows you to defend yourself; that will prove but a poor excuse. Bob. I cannot tell, sir. I desire good construction, in fair sort. I never sustained the like disgrace, by Heaven. Sure I was struck with a planet thence, for I had no power to touch my weapon. E. Kno. Aye, like enough, I have heard of many that have been beaten under a planet. Go, get you to a surgeon. 'Slid, an' these be your tricks, your passados, and your montantos, I'll none of them. Bob. I was planet-struck, certainly. [Exit. E. Kno. O, manners! that this age should bring forth such creatures! that nature should be at leisure to make them! Come, coz. Step. Mass, I'll have this cloak. E. Kno. God's will, 'tis Downright's. Step. Nay, it is mine now; another might have taken it up as well as I. I'll wear it, so I will. E. Kno. How, an' he see it? He'll challenge it, assure yourself. Step. Aye, but he shall not have it; I'll say I bought it. coz. E. Kno. Take heed you buy it not too dear, [Exeunt. SCENE III-A chamber in KITELY's House. Enter KITELY and CASH. Kite. Art thou sure, Thomas, we have pryed into all and every part throughout the house? Is there no by-place, or dark corner, has escaped our searches? Cash. Indeed, sir, none; there's not a hole or nook unsearched by us, from the upper loft unto the cellar. Kite. They have conveyed him, then, away, or hid him in some privacy of their own— -Whilst we were searching of the dark closet by my sister's chamber, didst thou not think thou heard'st a rustling on the other side, and a soft tread of feet? Cash. Upon my truth, I did not, sir; or if you did, it might be only the verinin in the wainscot; the house is old, and over-run with them. Kite. It is, indeed, Thomas-we should bane these rats-Dost thou understand me-we will they shall not harbour here; I'll cleanse my house from them, if fire or poison can effect itI will not be tormented thus-They gnaw my brain, and burrow in my heart-I cannot bear it. Cash. I do not understand you, sir! Good now, what is it disturbs you thus? Pray, be composed; these starts of passion have some cause, I fear, that touches you more nearly. Kite. Sorely, sorely, Thomas-it cleaves too close to me-Oh, me-[Sighs.] Lend me thy arm-so, good Cash. Cash. You tremble, and look pale! Let me call assistance. Kite. Why, nothing, nothing-I am not sick, yet more than dead; I have a burning fever in my mind, and long for that, which, having, would destroy me, Kite. Against his will! Ha! it may be soHe's young, and may be bribed for them-they've various means to draw the unwary in; if it be so, I'm lost, deceived, betrayed, and my bosom, my full-fraught bosom is unlocked and opened to mockery and laughter! Heaven forbid! He cannot be that viper; sting the hand, that raised and cherished him! Was this stroke added, I should be cursed-But it cannot be-no, it cannot be. Enter CASH. Cash. You are musing, sir. Kite. I ask your pardon, Cash-ask me not why I have wronged you, and am sorry-'tis Brain. An appendix to Justice Clement, vulgarly called his clerk. Kite. What are your wants with me? Kite. Do you not want to speak with me? Kite. What are the justice's commands? Brain. He doth not command, but entreats Master Kitely to be with him directly, having matters of some moment to communicate unto him. Kite. What can it be? Say, I'll be with him instantly, and if your legs, friend, go no faster than your tongue, I shall be there before you. Brain. I will. Vale! [Exit. Kite. 'Tis a precious fool, indeed!-I must go forth-But first, come hither, Thomas-I have admitted thee into the close recesses of my heart, and shewed thee all my frailties, passions, every thing. Cash. Believe me, 'tis your fancy's imposition; shut up your generous mind from such intruders -I'll hazard all my growing favour with you; I'll stake my present, my future welfare, that some base whispering knave-nay, pardon me, sir-hath, in the best and richest soil, sown seeds of rank and evil nature! O, my master, should they take root[Laughing within. Kite. Hark! hark! dost thou not hear! what think'st thou now? Are they not laughing at me? They are, they are. They have deceived the wittol, and thus they triumph in their infamy-But be assured you're heaping care and trouble This aggravation is not to be borne. [Laughing Upon a sandy base; ill-placed suspicion again. Hark, again !—Cash, do thou, unseen, Recoils upon yourself-She's chaste as comely! steal in upon them, and listen to their wanton Believe it, she is-Let your not note your huconference. Cash. I shall obey you, though against my will. [Erit. Be careful of thy promise, keep good watch. mour; Disperse the gloom upon your brow, and be Kite. I will then, Cash-thou comfortest me- | A wife may moderately use these pleasures, I'll drive these Fiend-like fancies from me, and be myself again. now. This change has gladdened me-Here's my mistress, And the rest; settle your reason to accost them. Kite. I will, Cash, I will Enter WELL-BRED, Dame KITELY, and BRIDGET. Well. What are you plotting, brother Kitely, That thus of late you muse alone, and bear Such weighty care upon your pensive brow? [Laughs. Kite. My care is all for you, good sneering brother; And well I wish, you'd take some wholesome counsel, And curb your headstrong humours; trust me, brother, You were to blame to raise commotions here, Well. No harm done, brother, I warrant you. What's a brave man unless he fight? Dame. Aye, but what harm might have come of it, brother? Well. What, schooled on both sides! Pr'ythee, Bridget, save me from the rod and lecture. [BRIDG. and WELL. retire. Kite. With what a decent modesty she rates him! My heart's at ease, and she shall see it isHow art thou, wife? Thou look'st both gay and comely. In troth thou dost-I'm sent for out, my dear, But I shall soon return-Indeed, my life, Business, that forces me abroad, grows irksome. I could content me with less gain and 'vantage, To have thee more at home; indeed I could. Dame. Your doubts, as well as love, may breed these thoughts. Kite. That jar untunes me. What dost thou say? Doubt thee! Aside. I should as soon suspect myself—No, no, | Which numbers and the time give sanction to, Without the smallest blemish on her name. Kite. And so she may-And I'll go with thee, child; I will indeed-I'll lead thee there myself, Dame. Why, were you ever so? Kite. What! Ha! never-ha, ha, ha! There's not the smallest spark remaining— Ha, ha! Cob, where are you, Cob? Ha, ha!— [WELL-BRED and BRIDGET come forward. Well. What have you done to make your husband part so merry from you? He has of late been little given to laughter. Dame. He laughed indeed, but seemingly without mirth. His behaviour is new and strange. He is much agitated, and has some whimsy in his head, that puzzles mine to read it. Well. 'Tis jealousy, good sister, and writ so largely, that the blind may read it; have you not. perceived it yet? Dame. If I have, 'tis not always prudent, that my tongue should betray my eyes; so far my wisdom tends, good brother, and little more I boast-But what makes him ever calling for Cob so? I wonder how he can employ him. Well. Indeed, sister, to ask how he employs Cob, is a necessary question for you, that are his wife, and a thing not very easy for you to be satisfied in-But this I'll assure you, Cob's wife is an excellent bawd, sister, and oftentimes your husband haunts her house; marry, to what end I cannot altogether accuse him. Imagine you, what you think convenient. But I have known fair hides have foul hearts ere now, sister. Dame. Never said you truer than that, brother; so much I can tell you for your learning. O, ho! is this the fruit of his jealousy? I thought some game was in the wind, he acted so much tenderness but now; but I'll be quit with him.— Thomas! Enter CASH. Fetch your hat, and go with me: I'll get my hood, and out the backward-way. I would to fortune I could take him there! I'd return him his own, I warrant him! I'd fit him for his jealousy! [Exeunt. Well. Ha, ha! so e'en let them go; this may make sport anon-What, Brain-worm? Enter BRAIN-WORM. Brain. I saw the merchant turn the corner, and came back to tell you, all goes well; wind and tide, my master. Well. But how got'st thou this apparel of the justice's man? Brain. Marry, sir, my proper fine penman would needs bestow the grist o' me at the Windmill, to hear some martial discourse, where I so marshalled him, that I made him drunk with admiration; and because too much heat was the cause of his distemper, I stript him stark naked, as he lay along asleep, and borrowed his suit to deliver this counterfeit message in, leaving a rusty armour, and an old brown bill, to watch him 'till my return; which shall be, when I have pawned his apparel and spent the better part of the money, perhaps. Well. Well, thou art a successful merry knave, Brain-worm; his absence will be subject for more mirth. I pray thee return to thy young master, and will him to meet me and my sister Bridget at the Tower instantly; for here, tell him, the house is so stored with jealousy, there is no room for love to stand upright in. We must get our fortunes committed to some large prison, say and then the Tower, I know no better air, nor where the liberty of the house may do us more present service. Away. [Exit BRAIN. Bridg. What, is this the engine, that you told me of? What farther meaning have you in the plot? Well. That you may know, fair sister-in-law, how happy a thing it is to be fair and beautiful. Bridg. That touches not me, brother. Well. That's true; that's even the fault of it; for, indeed, beauty stands a woman in no stead, unless it procure her touching-Well, there's a dear and well-respected friend of mine, sister, stands very strongly and worthily affected towards you, and hath vowed to inflame whole bonfires of zeal at his heart, in honour of your perfections. I have already engaged my promise to bring you, where you shall hear him confirm much more. Ned Kno'well is the man, sister.-There's no exception against the party; you are ripe for a husband, and a minute's loss to such an occasion is a great trespass in a wise beauty. What say you, sister? On my soul, he loves you; will you give him the meeting? Bridg. Faith, I had very little confidence in my own constancy, brother, if I durst not meet a man but this motion of yours savours of an old knight adventurer's servant a little too much, methinks. Well. What's that, sister! Bridg. Marry, of the go-between. Well. No matter if it did; I would be such a one for my friend. But see, who is returned to hinder us. Enter KITELY. Kite. What villany is this? Called out on a false message! This was some plot; I was not sent for. Bridget, where's your sister? Bridg. I think she be gone forth, sir. Kite. How is my wife gone forth? Whither, for Heaven's sake? Bridg. She's gone abroad with Thomas. He hath discovered all unto my wife; Bridg. I know not, sir. Well. I'll tell you, brother, whither I suspect she's gone. Kite. Whither, good brother? Well. To Cob's house, I believe; but keep my counsel. Kite. I will, I will. To Cob's house! Does she haunt there? She's gone on purpose now to cuckold me, With that lewd rascal, who, to win her favour, Hath told her all-Why would you let her go? Well. Because she's not my wife: if she were, I'd keep her to her tether. Kite. So, so; now 'tis plain. I shall go mad With my misfortunes; now they pour in tor rents. I'm bruted by my wife, betrayed by my servant, Mocked at by my relations, pointed at by my neighbours, Despised by myself. There is nothing left, now, But to revenge myself first, next hang myself; And then-all my cares will be over. [Exit. Bridg. He storms most loudly; sure you have gone too far in this. Well. "Twill all end right, depend upon it.But let us lose no time; the coast is clear; away, away; the affair is worth it, and cries haste. Bridg. I trust me to your guidance, brother, and so fortune for us. [Exeunt. SCENE I.-Stocks-Market. Enter MATTHEW and BOBADIL. ACT V. Mat. I WONDER, captain, what they will say of my going away? ha! Bob. Why, what should they say? but as of a discreet gentleman; quick, wary, respectful of nature's fair lineaments, and that is all. Mat. Why so! but what can they say of your beating? Bob. A rude part, a touch with soft wood, a kind of gross battery used, lain on strongly, borne most patiently, and that is all. But wherefore do I wake their remembrance? I was fascinated, by Jupiter! fascinated; but I will be unwitched, and revenged by law. Mat. Do you hear? Is it not best to get a warrant, and have him arrested, and brought before justice Clement ? Bob. It were not amiss; would we had it! Mat. Why, here comes his man; let us speak to him. Bob. Agreed. Do you speak. Enter BRAIN-WORM as FORMAL, Mat. Save you, sir. Brain. With all my heart, sir! Mat. Sir, there is one Downright hath abused this gentleman and myself, and we determine to make ourselves amends by law; now, if you would do us the favour to procure a warrant to bring him before your master, you shall be well considered of, I assure you, sir. Brain. Sir, you know my service is my living; such favours as these, gotten of my master, is his only preferment, and therefore you must consider me, as I may make benefit of my place. Mat. How is that, sir? Brain. Faith, sir, the thing is extraordinary, and the gentleman may be of great account. Yet, be what he will, if you will lay me down a brace of angels in my hand, you shall have it; otherwise not. Mat. How shall we do, captain? He asks a brace of angels; you have no money? Bob. Not a cross, by fortune. Mat. Nor I, as I am a gentleman, but twopence left of my two shillings in the morning for wine and raddish. Let us find him some pawn. Bob. Pawn! we have none to the value of his demand. Mat. O, yes, I can pawn my ring here. Bob. And harkee, he shall have my trusty Toledo too. I believe I shall have no service for it to-day. Mat. Do you hear, sir? We have no store of money at this time, but you shall have good pawns; look you, sir, I will pledge this ring, and | Kno. O here it is; I have found it now-Hoa, who is within here? [TIB appears at the window. Tib. I am within, sir, what is your pleasure? Kno. To know who is within besides yourself. Tib. Why, sir, you are no constable, I hope? Kno. O, fear you the constable? Then I doubt not you have some guests within deserve that fear-I'll fetch him straight. Tib. For Heaven's sake, sir Kno. Go to, come tell me, is not young Knowell here ? Tib. Young Kno'well! I know none such, sir, on my honesty. Kno. Your honesty, dame! It flies too lightly from you. There is no way but fetch the constable. Tib. The constable; the man is mad, I think. Enter CASH and Dame KITELY. Cash. Hoa! who keeps house here? Kno. O, this is the female copesmate of my son. Now shall I meet him straight. [Aside. Dame. Knock, Thomas, hard. Cash. Hoa! good wife. Tib. Why, what is the matter with you? Dame. Why, woman, grieves it you to ope the door? Belike you get something to keep it shut. Tib. What mean these questions, pray you? Dame. So strange you make it! Is not my hus band here! |