SCENE I---A Room in KITELY'S House.
Dow. Well, sister, I tell you true; and you'll find it so in the end.
Dame K. Alas, brother, what would you have me to do? I cannot help it; you see my brother brings them in here; they are his friends.
Dow. His friends! his fiends. 'Slud! they do nothing but haunt him up and down like a sort of unlucky spirits, and tempt him to all manner of villainy that can be thought of. Well, by this light, a little thing would make me play the devil with some of them: an 'twere not more for your husband's sake than anything else, I'd make the house too hot for the best on 'em; they should say, and swear, hell were broken loose, ere they went hence. But, by God's will, 'tis nobody's fault but yours; for an you had done as you might have done, they should have been parboiled, and baked too, every mother's son, ere they should have come in, e'er a one of them.
Dame K. God's my life! did you ever hear the like? what a strange man is this! Could I keep out all them, think you? I should put myself against half a dozen men, should I? Good faith, you'd mad the patien'st body in the world; to hear you talk so, without any sense or reason.
Enter Mistress BRIDGET, Master MATHEW, and BOBADILL;
Mat. You say well, mistress, and I mean as well.
Dow. Hoy-day, here is stuff!
Wel. O, now stand close; pray Heaven, she can get him to read! he should do it of his own natural impudency.
Brid. Servant, what is this same, I pray you?
Mat. Marry, an elegy, an elegy, an odd toy--
Dow. To mock an ape withal! O, I could sew up his mouth, now.
Dame K. Sister, I pray you let's hear it.
Dow. Are you rhyme-given too?
Mat. Mistress, I'll read it if you please.
Brid. Pray you do, servant.
Dow. O, here's no foppery! Death! I can endure the stocks better.
E. Know. What ails thy brother? can he not hold his water at reading of a ballad?
Wel. O, no; a rhyme fu him is worse than cheese, or a bag-pipe; but mark; you lose the protestation.
Mat. Faith, I did it in a humour; I know not how it is; but please you come near, sir. This gentleman has judgment, he knows how to censure of a--pray you, sir, you can judge?
Step. Not I, sir; upon my reputation, and by the foot of Pharaoh!
Wel. O, chide your cousin for swearing.
E. Know. Not I, so long as he does not forswear himself.
Bob. Master Mathew, you abuse the expectation of your dear mistress, and her fair sister: fie! while you live avoid this prolixity.
Mat. I shall, sir, well; incipere dulce.
E. Know. How, insipere duke! a sweet thing to be a fool, indeed!
Wel. What, do you take incipere in: that sense?
E. Know. You do not, you! This was your villainy, to gull him with a motte.
Wel. O, the benchers' phrase: pauca verba, pauca verba!
E. Know. This is Hero and Leander.
Wel. O, ay: peace, we shall have more of this.
Wel. How like you that, sir? [Master Stephen shakes his head.
E. Know. 'Slight, he shakes his head like a bottle, to feel an there be any brain in it.
Mat. But observe the catastrophe, now:
E. Know. Well, I'll have him free of the wit-brokers, for he
Wel. O, forgive it him.
E. Know. A filching rogue, hang him!---and from the dead! it's
Wel. Sister, what have you here, verses? pray you let's see: who made these verses? they are excellent. good.
Mat. O, Master Wellbred, 'tis your disposition to say so, sir. They were good in the morning: I made them ex tempore this morning.
Wel. How! ex tempore?
Mat. Ay, would I might be hanged else; ask Captain Bobadill: he saw me write them, at the--pox on it!--the Star, yonder.
Brai. Can he find in his heart to curse the stars so?
E. Know. Faith, his are even with him; they have curst him enough already.
Step. Cousin, how do you like this gentleman's verses?
E. Know. O, admirable! the best that ever I heard, coz.
Step. Body O' Caesar, they are admirable! the best that I ever heard, as I am a soldier!
Dow. I am vext, I can hold ne'er a bone of me still: 'Heart, I think they mean to build and breed here.
Wet. Sister, you have a simple servant here, that crowns your beauty with such encomiums and devices; you may see what it is to be the mistress of a wit, that can make your perfections so transparent, that every blear eye may look through them, and see him drowned over head and ears in the deep well of desire: Sister Kitely. I marvel you get you not a servant that can rhyme, and do tricks too.
Dow. O monster! impudence itself! tricks!
Dame K. Tricks, brother! what tricks?
Brid. Nay, speak, I pray you what tricks?
Dame K. Ay, never spare any body here; but say, what tricks.
Brid. Passion of my heart, do tricks!
Wel. 'Slight, here's a trick vied and revied! Why, you monkeys, you, what a cater-wauling do you keep! has he not given you rhymes and verses and tricks?
Dow. O, the fiend!
Wel. Nay, you lamp of virginity, that take it in snuff so, come, and cherish this tame poetical fury in your servant; you'll be begg'd else shortly for a concealment: go to, reward his muse. You cannot give him less than a shilling in conscience, for the book he had it out of cost him a teston at least. How now, gallants! Master Mathew! Captain! what, all sons of silence, no spirit?
Dow. Come, you might practise your ruffian tricks somewhere else, and not here, I wuss; this is no tavern or drinking-school, to vent your exploits in.
Wel. How now; whose cow has calved?
Dow. Marry, that has mine, sir.
Nay, boy, never look askance at me for the matter; I'll tell you of it, I, sir; you and your companions mend yourselves when I have done.
Wel. My companions!
Dow. Yes, sir, your companions, so I say; I am not afraid of you, nor them neither; your hang-byes here. You must have your poets and your potlings, your soldados and foolados to follow you up and down the city; and here they must come to domineer and swagger. Sirrah, you ballad-singer, and slops your fellow there, get you out, get you home; or by this steel, I'll cut off your ears, and that presently.
Wel. 'Slight, stay, let's see what he dare do; cut off his ears! cut a whetstone. You are an ass, do you see; touch any man here, and by this hand I'll run my rapier to the hilts in you.
Dow. Yea, that would I fain see, boy.
Brid. Help, help! Thomas!
Enter CASH and some of the house to part them.
E. Know. Gentlemen, forbear, I pray' you.
Bob. Well, sirrah, you Holofernes; by my hand, I will pink your flesh full of holes with my rapier for this; I will, by this good heaven! nay, let him come, let him come, gentlemen; by the body of St. George, I'll not kill him.
Gash. Here, sir.
Wel. Come, let's go: this is one of my brother's ancient humours, this.
Step. I am glad nobody was hurt by his ancient humour.
[Exeunt Wellbred, Stephen, E. Knowell, Bobadill, and Brainworm.
Kit. Why, how now, brother, who enforced this brawl?
Dow. A sort of lewd rake-hells, that care neither for God nor the devil And they must come here to read ballads, and roguery, and trash! I'll mar the knot of 'em ere I sleep, perhaps; especially Bob there, he that's all manner of shapes: and songs and sonnets, his fellow.
Dow. Respect! what talk you of respect among such, as have no spark
Kit. O, that was some love of yours, sister.
Dame K. Indeed he seem'd to be a gentleman of a very exceeding
Cash. Ay, sir, they went in. My mistress and your sister-
Kit. Are any of the gallants within?
Cash. No, sir, they are all gone.
Kit. Art thou sure of it---?
Cash. I can assure you, sir.
Kit. What gentleman was that they praised so, Thomas?
Cash. One, they call him Master Knowell, a handsome young gentleman, sir.
Cob. [knocks at the door.] What, Tib! Tib, I say!
Tib. [within.] How now, what cuckold is that knocks so hard?
O, husband! is it you? What's the news?
Cob. Nay, you have stunn'd me, i'faith; you have, given me a knock O' the forehead will stick by me. Cuckold! 'Slid, cuckold!
Tib. Away, you fool! did I know it was you that knocked? Come, come, you may call me as bad when you list.
Cob. May I? Tib, you are a whore.
Tib. You lie in your throat, husband.
Cob. How, the lie! and in my throat tool do you long to be stabb'd, ha?
Tib. Why, you are no soldier, I hope.
Cob. O, must you be stabbed by a soldier? Mass, that's true! when was Bobadill here, your captain? that rogue. that foist, that fencing Burgullion? I'll tickle him, i'faith.
Tib. Why, what's the matter, trow?
Cob. O, he has basted me rarely, sumptuously! but I have it here in black and white, [pulls out the warrant.] for his black and blue shall pay him. O, the justice, the honestest old brave Trojan in London; I do honour the very flea of his dog. A plague on him, though, he put me once in a villanous filthy fear; marry, it vanished away like the smoke of tobacco; but I was smoked soundly first. I thank the devil, and his good angel, my guest. Well, wife, or Tib, which you will, get you in, and lock the door; I charge you let nobody in to you, wife; nobody in to you; those are my words: not Captain Bob himself, nor the fiend in his likeness. You are a woman, you have flesh and blood enough in you to be tempted; therefore keep the door shut upon all comers.
Tib. I warrant you, there shall nobody enter here without my consent.
Cob. Nor with your consent, sweet Tib; and so I leave you.
Tib. It's more than you know, whether you leave me so.
Tib. Why, sweet.
SCENE III.-A Room in the Windmill Tavern.
E. Know. Well, Brainworm, perform this business happily, and thou makest a purchase of my love for ever.
Wel. I'faith, now let thy spirits use their best faculties: but, at any hand, remember the message to my brother; for there's no other means to start him.
Brai. I warrant you, sir; fear nothing; I have a nimble soul has waked all forces of my phant'sie by this time, and put them in true motion. What you have possest me withal, I'll discharge it amply, sir; make it no question.
E. Know. Troth, well, howsoever; but it will come excellent if it take.
Wel. Take, man! why it cannot choose but take, if the circumstances miscarry not: but, tell me ingenuously, dost thou affect my sister Bridget as thou pretend'st?
E. Know. Friend, am I worth belief?
Wel. Come, do not protest. In faith, she is a maid of good ornament, and much modesty; and, except I conceived very worthily of her, thou should'st not have her.
E. Know. Nay, that I am afraid, will be a question yet, whether I shall have her, or no.
Wel. 'Slid, thou shalt have her; by this light thou shalt.
E. Know. Nay, do not swear.
Wel. By this hand thou shalt have her; I'll go fetch her presently. 'Point but where to meet, and as I am an honest man I'll bring her.
E. Know. Hold, hold, be temperate.
Wel. Why, by--what shall I swear by? thou shalt have her, as I am--
E. Know. Praythee, be at peace, I am satisfied; and do believe thou wilt omit no offered occasion to make my desires complete.
Wel. Thou shalt see, and know, I will not.
Form. Was your man a soldier, sir?
Know. Ay, a knave
Brai. Marry, peace be my comfort, where I thought I should have had little comfort of your worship's service.
Know. How so?
Brai. O, sir, your coming to the city, your entertainment of me, and your sending me to watch---indeed all the circumstances either of your charge, or my employment, are as open to your son, as to yourself.
Brai. I am partly O' the faith, 'tis so, indeed.
Know. But, how should he know thee to be my man?
Brai. Nay, sir, I cannot tell; unless it be by the black art. Is
Brai. You should rather ask where they found me, sir; for I'll be sworn, I was going along in the street, thinking nothing, when, of a sudden, a voice calls, Mr. Knowell's man! another cries, Soldier! and thus half a dozen of them, till they had call'd me within a house, where I no sooner came, but they seem'd men, and out flew all their rapiers at my bosom, with some three or four score oaths to accompany them; and all to tell me, I was but a dead man, if I did not confess where you were, and how I was employed, and about what; which when they could not get out of me, (as, I protest, they must have dissected, and made an anatomy of me first, and so I told them,) they lock'd me up into a room in the top of a high house, whence by great miracle (having a light heart) I slid down by a bottom of packthread into the street, and so 'scaped. But, sir, thus much I can assure you, for I heard it while I was lock'd up, there were a great many rich merchants and brave citizens' wives with them at a feast; and your son, master Edward, withdrew with one of them, and has 'pointed to meet her anon at one Cob's house a water-bearer that dwells by the Wall. Now, there your worship shall be sure to take him, for there he preys, and fail he will not.
Brai. Ay, sir, there you shall have him. [Exit Knowell.] Yes-- invisible! Much wench, or much son! 'Slight, when he has staid there three or four hours, travailing with the expectation of wonders, and at length be deliver'd of air! O the sport that I should then take to look on him, if I durst! But now, I mean to appear no more afore him in this shape: I have another trick to act yet. O that I were so happy as to light on a nupson now of this justice's novice!--Sir, I make you stay somewhat long.
Form. Not a whit, sir. Pray you what do you mean, sir?
Brai. I was putting up some papers.
Form. You have been lately in the wars, sir, it seems.
Brai. Marry have I, sir, to my loss, and expense of all, almost.
Form. Troth, sir, I would be glad to bestow a bottle of wine on you, if it please you to accept it--
Brai. O, sir
Form. But to hear the manner of your services, and your devices in the wars; they say they be very strange, and not like those a man reads in the Roman histories, or sees at Mile-end.
Brai. No, I assure you, sir; why at any time when it please you, I shall be ready to discourse to you all I know;--and more too somewhat. [Aside.
Form. No better time than now, sir; we'll go to the Windmill: there we shall have a cup of neat grist, we call it. I pray you, sir, let me request you to the Windmill.
Brai. I'll follow you, sir;--and make grist of you, if I have good
Mat. Sir, did your eyes ever taste the like clown of him where we were to-day, Mr. Wellbred's half-brother? I think the whole earth cannot shew his parallel, by this daylight.
E. Know. We were now speaking of him: captain Bobadill tells me he is fallen foul of you too.
Mat. O, ay, sir, he threatened me with the bastinado.
Bob. Ay, but I think, I taught you prevention this morning, for that: You shall kill him beyond question; if you be so generously minded.
Mat. Indeed, it is a most excellent trick.
Bob. Tut! 'tis nothing, an't be not done in a--punto. E. Know. Captain, did you ever prove yourself upon any of our masters of defence here?
Mat. O good sir! yes, I hope he has.
Bob. I will tell you, sir. Upon my first coming to the city, after my long travel for knowledge, in that mystery only, there came three or four of them to me, at a gentleman's house, where it was my chance to be resident at that time, to intreat my presence at their schools: and withal so much importuned me, that I protest to you, as I am a gentleman, I was ashamed of their rude demeanour out of all measure: Well, I told them that to come to a public school, they should pardon me, it was opposite, in diameter, to my humour; but if so be they would give their attendance at my lodging, I protested to do them what right or favour I could, as I was a gentleman, and so forth.
E. Know. So, sir! then you tried their skill?
Bob. Alas, soon tried: you shall hear, sir. Within two or three days after, they came; and, by honesty, fair sir, believe me, I graced them exceedingly, shewed them some two or three tricks of prevention have purchased them since a credit to admiration: they cannot deny this; and yet now they hate me, and why? because I am excellent; and for no other vile reason on the earth.
E. Know. This is strange and barbarous, as ever I heard.
Bob. Nay, for a more instance of their preposterous natures; but note; sir. They have assaulted me some three, four, five, six of them together, as I have walked alone in divers skirts it'll town, as Turnbull, Whitechapel, Shoreditch, which were then my quarters; and since, upon the Exchange, at my lodging, and at my ordinary: where I have driven them afore me the whole length of a street, in the open view of all our gallants, pitying to hurt them, believe me. Yet all this lenity will not overcome their spleen; they will be doing with the pismire, raising a hill a man may spurn abroad with his foot at pleasure. By myself, I could have slain them all, but I delight not in murder. I am loth to bear any other than this bastinado for them: yet I hold it good polity not to go disarmed, for though I be skilful, I may be oppressed with multitudes.
E. Know. Ay, 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. Know. 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 her 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 her subjects in general; but to save the one half, nay, three parts of her yearly charge in holding war, and against what enemy soever. And how would I do it, think you?
E. Know. 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 choose 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 imbroccato, 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 kills them all up by computation. And this will I venture my poor gentlemanlike carcase to perform, provided there be no treason practised upon us, by fair and discreet manhood; that is, civilly by the sword.
E. Know. Why, are you so sure of your hand, captain, at all times?
Bob. Tut! never miss thrust, upon my reputation with you.
E. Know. I would not stand in Downright's state then, an you meet him, for the wealth of anyone street in London.
Bob. Why, sir, you mistake me: 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.
E. Know. 'Od's, so, look where he is! yonder he goes.
Bob. It is not he, is it?
E. Know. Yes, faith, it is he.
Mat. I'll be hang'd then if that were he.
E. Know. Sir, keep your hanging good for some greater matter, for I assure you that were 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. Know. That I think, sir.
Dow. O, Pharaoh's foot, have I found you? Come, draw to your tools;
Bob. Gentleman of valour, I do believe in thee; hear me--
Dow. Draw your weapon then.
Bob. Tall man, I never thought on it till now--Body of me, I had a warrant of the peace served on me, even now as I came along, by a water-bearer; this gentleman saw it, Master Mathew.
Dow. 'Sdeath! you will not draw then?
Dow. Prate again, as you like this, you whoreson foist you! You'll control the point, you! Your consort is gone; had he staid he had shared with you, sir.
Bob. Well, gentlemen, bear witness, I was bound to the peace, by this good day.
E. Know. 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 sustain'd the like disgrace, by heaven! sure I was struck with a planet thence, for I had no power to touch my weapon.
E. Know. Ay, 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 passadoes, and your montantos, I'll none of them. [Exit Bobadill.] 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. Know. 'Od's will, 'tis Downright's.
Step. Nay, it's mine now, another might have ta'en it up as well:
E. Know. How an he see it? he'll challenge it, assure yourself.
Step. Ay, but he shall not have it: I'll say I bought it.
E. Know. Take heed you buy it not too dear, coz.
SCENE IV.-A Room in KITELY'S House.
Wel. No harm done, brother, I warrant you: since there is no harm done, anger costs a man nothing; and a tall man is never his own man till he be angry. To keep his valour in obscurity, is to keep himself as it were in a cloak bag. What's a musician, unless he play? What's a tall man unless he fight? For, indeed, all this my wise brother stands upon absolutely; and that made me fall in with him so resolutely.
Dame K. Ay, but what harm might have come of it, brother?
Wel. Might, sister? so might the good warm clothes your husband wears be poisoned, for any thing he knows: or the wholesome wine he drank, even now at the table.
Wel. O strange humour! my very breath has poison'd him.
Wel. Is a fit simile a toy? will he be poison'd with a simile? Brother Kitely, what a strange and idle imagination is this! For shame, be wiser. O' my soul there's no such matter.
Kit. Am I not sick? how am I then not poison'd? Am I not poison'd? how am I then so sick?
Dame K. If you be sick, your own thoughts make you sick.
Wel. His jealousy is the poison he has taken.
Brai. Master Kitely, my master, justice Clement salutes you; and desires to speak with you with all possible speed.
Kit. No time but now, when I think I am sick, very sick! well, I will wait upon his worship. Thomas! Cob! I must seek them out, and set them sentinels till I return. Thomas! Cob! Thomas!
Brai. Marry, sir, my proper fine pen-man would needs bestow the grist on me, at the Windmill, to hear some martial discourse; where I so marshall'd 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 pawn'd his apparel, and spent the better part O' the money, perhaps.
Wel. Well, thou art a successful merry knave, Brainworm: his absence will be a. good 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 up'right in. We must get our fortunes committed to some larger prison, say; and than the Tower, I know no better air, nor where the liberty of the house may do us more present service. Away.
Re-enter KITELY, talking aside to CASH.
Cash. As truth's self, sir.
Kit. Why, I believe thee: Where is Cob, now? Cob!
Wel. 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 K. Never said you truer than that, brother, so much I can tell you for your learning. Thomas, fetch your cloak and go with me.
Brid. That touches not me, brother.
Wel. That's true; that's even the fault of it; for indeed, beauty stands a woman in no stead, unless it procure her touching.--But, sister, whether it touch you or no. it touches your beauties; and I am sure they will abide the touch; an they do not, a plague of all ceruse, say I! and it touches me too in part, though not in the--Well, there's a dear and respected friend of mine, sister, stands very strongly and worthily affected toward 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 Knowell is the man, sister: there's no exception against the party. You are ripe for a husband; and a minute's loss to such all 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?
Brid. Faith, I had very little confidence in mine 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.
Wel. What' s that, sister?
Brid. Marry, of the squire.
Wel. No matter if it did, I would be such an one for my friend. But see, who is return'd to hinder us!
Brid. I think she be gone forth, sir.
Kit. How! is my wife gone forth? whither, for God's sake?
Brid. She's gone abroad with Thomas.
Brid. I know not, sir.
Wel. I'll tell you, brother, Whither I suspect she's gone;
Kit. Whither, good brother?
Wel. To Cob's house, I believe: but, keep my counsel.
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's 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, laid on strongly, borne most patiently; and that's all.
Mat. Ay, but would any man have offered it in Venice, as you say? Bob. Tut! I assure you, no: you shall have there your nobilis, your gentilezza, come in bravely upon your reverse, stand you close, stand you firm, stand you fair, save your retricato with his left leg, come to the assalto with the right, thrust with brave steel, defy your base wood! But wherefore do I awake this remembrance? I was fascinated, by Jupiter; fascinated, but I will be unwitch'd 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's speak to him.
Bob. Agreed, do you speak,
Mat. Save you, sir.
Brai. With all my heart, sir.
Mat. Sir, there is one Downright hath abused this gentleman and myself, and we determine to make our amends by law: now, if you would do us the favour to procure a warrant to bring him afore your master, you shall be well considered, I assure you, sir.
Brai. 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?
Brai. Faith, sir, the thing is extraordinary, and the gentleman may be of great account; yet, be he 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 radish: let's find him some pawn.
Bob. Pawn! we have none to the value of his demand.
Mat. O, yes; I'll pawn this jewel in my ear, and you may pawn your silk stockings, and pull up your boots, they will ne'er be mist: it must be done now.
Bob. Well, an there be no remedy, I'll step aside and pull them off.
Brai. I am content, sir; I will get you the What's his name, say you? Downright?
Mat. Ay, ay, George Downright.
Brai. What manner of man is he?
Mat. A tall big man, sir; he goes in a cloak most commonly of silk-russet, laid about with russet lace.
Brai. 'Tis very good, sir.
Mat. Here, Sir, here's my jewel.
Bob. [returning.] And here are my stockings.
Brai. Well, gentlemen, I'll procure you this warrant presently; but who will you have to serve it?
Mat. That's true, captain: that must be considered.
Bob. Body O' me, I know not; 'tis service of danger.
Brai. Why, you were best get one O' the varlets of the city, a serjeant: I'll appoint you one, if you please.
Mat. Will you, sir? why, we can wish no better.
Bob. We'll leave it to you, sir.
Brai. This is rare! Now will I go and pawn this cloak of the justice's man's at the broker's, for a varlet's suit, and be the varlet myself; and get either more pawns, or more money of Downright, for the arrest.
Tib. [within.] I am within, sir; what's your pleasure?
Know. To know who is within beside yourself.
Tib. Why, sir, you are no constable, I hope?
Tib. O' God's name, sir!
Know. Go to: come tell me, is not young Knowell here?
Tib. Young Knowell! I know none such, sir, o' mine honesty.
Tib. The constable! the man is mad, I think.
Enter Dame KITELY and CASH.
Cash. Ho! who keeps house here?
Dame K. Knock, Thomas, hard.
Cash. Ho, goodwife!
Tib. What mean these questions, pray ye?
Dame K. So strange you make it! is not my husband here?
Know. Her husband!
Dame K. My tried husband, master Kitely?
Tib. I hope he needs not to be tried here.
Dame K. No, dame, he does it not for need, but pleasure.
Tib. Neither for need nor pleasure is he here.
Know. This is but a device to balk me withal:
Dame K. [spies her husband, and runs to him.]
Know. She cannot counterfeit thus palpably.
Dame K. Out, I defy thee, I, dissembling wretch!
Know. Why, hear you, sir.
Know. What lunacy is this, that haunts this man?
Kit. Come, will you go?
Dame K. Go! to thy shame believe it.
Cob. Why, what's the matter here, 'what's here to do?
Cob. 'Slid, in my house, my master Kitely! who wrongs you in
Cob. How, bawd! is my house come to that? Am I preferr'd thither?
Know. Friend, know some cause, before thou beat'st thy wife.
Cob. Why, is there no cause?
Cob. Nay, she shall go.
Tib. Nay, I will go. I'll see an you may be allowed to make a bundle of hemp of your right and lawful wife thus, at every cuckoldy knave's pleasure. Why do you not go?
Kit. A bitter quean! Come, we will have you tamed.
SCENE IX.---A Street.
Brai. Well. of all my disguises yet, now am I most like myself, being in this serjeant's gown. A man of my present profession never counterfeits, till he lays hold upon a debtor, and says, he rests him; for then he brings him to all manner of unrest. A kind of little kings we are, bearing the diminutive of a mace, made like a young artichoke, that always carries pepper and salt in itself. Well, I know not what danger I undergo by this exploit; pray Heaven I come well off!
Mat. See, I think, yonder is the varlet, by his gown.
Bob. Let's go in quest of him.
Mat. 'Save you, friend! 'are not you here by appointment of justice Clement's man?
Brai. Yes, an't please you, sir; he. told me, two gentlemen had will'd him to procure a warrant from his master, which I have about me, to be served on one Downright.
Mat. It is honestly done of you both; and see where the party comes you must arrest; serve it upon him quickly. afore he be aware.
Bob. Bear back, master Mathew.
Enter STEPHEN in DOWNRIGHT'S cloak.
Brai. Master Downright, I arrest you in the queen's name, and must carry you afore a justice by virtue of this warrant:
Step. Me, friend! I am no Downright, I; I am master Stephen; You do not well to arrest me, I tell you, truly; I am in nobody's bonds nor books, I would you should know it. A plague on you heartily, for making me thus afraid afore my time!
Brai. Why, now you are deceived, gentlemen.
Bob. He wears such a cloak, and that deceived us: but see, here a' comes indeed; this is he; officer.
Dow. Why how now, signior gull! are you turn'd filcher of late! Come, deliver my cloak.
Step. Your cloak, sir! I bought it even now, in open market.
Brai. Master Downright, I have a warrant I must serve upon you, procured by these two gentlemen.
Dow. These gentlemen! these rascals!
Dow. I obey thee. What must I do, officer?
Brai. Go before master justice Clement; to answer that they can object against you, sir: I will use you kindly, sir.
Mat. Come, let's before, and make the justice, captain.
Bob. The varlet's a tall man, afore heaven!
Dow. Gull, you'll give me my cloak.
Step. Sir, I bought it, and I'll keep it.
Dow. You will?
Step. Ay, that I will.
Dow. Officer, there's thy fee, arrest him.
Brai. Master Stephen I must arrest you.
Step. Arrest me! I scorn it. There, take your cloak, I'll none on't.
Dow. Nay, that shall not serve your turn now, sir. Officer, I'll go with thee to the justice's; bring him along.
Step. Why, is not here your cloak? what would you have?
Dow. I'll have you answer it, sir.
Brai. Sir, I'll take your word, and this gentleman's too, for his appearance.
Dow. I'll have no words taken: bring him along.
Brai. Sir, I may choose to do that, I may take bail.
Dow. 'Tis true, you may take bail, and choose at another time: but you shall not now, varlet: bring him along, or I'll swinge you.
Brai. Sir, I pity the gentleman's case: here's your money again.
Dow. 'Sdeins, tell not me of my money; bring him away, I say.
Brai. I warrant you he will go with you of himself, sir.
Dow. Yet more ado?
Brai. I have made a fair mash on't;
Step. Must I go?
Brai. I know no remedy, master Stephen.
Dow. Come along afore me here; I do not love your hanging look behind.
Step. Why, sir, I hope you cannot hang me for it: can he, fellow?
Brai. I think not, sir; it is but a whipping matter, sure.