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tion to say so, sir. They were good in the morning; I made them extempore this morning.

Well. How extempore?

Mat. I would I might be hanged else; ask Captain Bobadil. He saw me write them at the (pox on it) the Star yonder.

Step. Cousin, how do you like this gentleman's verses?

E. Kno. O, admirable! the best that ever I heard, coz!

Step. Body of Cæsar! they are admirable! The best that ever I 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.

Well. Sister Kitely, I marvel you get you not a servant, that can rhime, and do tricks too.

Dow. Oh, monster! Impudence itself! tricks! Come, you might practise your ruffian tricks somewhere else, and not here, I wuss. This is no tavern, nor drinking-school, to vent your exploits in.

Well. How now! whose cow has calved?

Dow. Marry, that has mine, sir. Nay, boy, never look askance at me for the matter; I will tell you of it: aye, sir, you and your companions; mend yourselves when I ha' done.

Well. My companions!

Dow. Yes, sir, your companions, so I say: I am not afraid of you nor them neither, your hangbys 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.

Well. 'Slight, stay, let us 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.

[They all draw, and they of the house make out to part them.] Dame. O, Jesu! murder! Thomas, Gasper! Bridg. Help, help, Thomas.

E. Kno. 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, gentlemen, by the body of St George, I'll not kill him.

[They offer to fight again, and are parted. Cash. Hold, hold, good gentlemen. Dow. You whoreson, bragging coistril!

Enter KITELY.

Kite. Why, how now, what's the matter?—
What's the stir here?

Put up your weapons, and put off this rage.
My wife and sister, they're the cause of this.
What, Thomas! where is the knave?

Cash. Here, sir.

Well. Come, let us go; this is one of my brother's ancient humours, this. [Exit.

Step. I am glad nobody was hurt by his ancient humour. [Exit. Kite. 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 them ere I sleep, perhaps ; especially Bob there: he that is all manner of shapes; and songs and sonnets, his fellow. But I'll follow them. [Exit.

Bridg. Brother, indeed, you are too violent, Too sudden in your humour. There was one a civil gentleman, And very worthily demeaned himself.

Kite. O, that was some love of yours, sister. Bridg. A love of mine! I would it were no worse, brother! You'd pay my portion sooner than you think for. [Exit.

Dame. Indeed, he seemed to be a gentleman of exceeding fair disposition, and of very excellent good parts. What a coil and stir is here!

[Exit.

Kite. Her love, by Heaven! my wife's minion! Death, these phrases are intolerable! Well, well, well, well, well, well!

It is too plain, too clear. Thomas, come hither. What, are they gone?

Cash. Ay, sir, they went in.
My mistress, and your sister-

Kite. Are any of the gallants within?
Cash. No, sir, they are all gone.
Kite. Art thou sure of it?
Cash. I can assure you, sir.

Kite. What gentleman was it that they prais ed so, Thomas?

Cash. One, they call him Master Kno'well, a handsome young gentleman, sir.

Kite. Aye, I thought so. My mind gave me as much.

I'll die but they have hid him in the house Somewhere; I will go and search. Go with me, Thomas;

Be true to me, and thou shalt find me a master. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Moorfields.

Enter E. KNO'Well, Well-BRED, and BRAIN

WORM.

E. Kno. Well, Brain-worm, perform this business happily, and thou makest a purchase of my love for ever.

Well. In faith, now let thy spirits use their best faculties; but at my hand, remember the message to my brother; for there is no other means to start him out of his house.

Brain. I warrant you, sir, fear nothing. I have a nimble soul has waked all forces of my phantasy by this time, and put them in true motion. What you have possessed me withal, I'll discharge it amply, sir. Make it no question. [Exit. Well. Forth, and prosper, Brain-worm. Faith,

Ned, how dost thou approve of my abilities in this device?

E. Kno. Troth, well, howsoever: but it will come excellent, if it take.

Well. 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 pretendest?

E. Kno. Friend, am I worth belief?

Well. 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. Kno. Nay, that, I am afraid, will be a question yet, whether I shall have her or no.

Well. 'Slid thou shalt have her; by this light, thou shalt.

E. Kno. Nay, do not swear.

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found me, sir; for I will be sworn I was going along in the street, thinking nothing, when (of a sudden) a voice calls, Mr Kno'well's man;' anoother cries, soldier;' and thus, half a dozen of them, till they had called me within a house, where I no sooner came, but out flew all their rapiers at my bosom, with some three or fourscore oaths to accompany them, and all to tell me, I was 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 me, and made an anatomy of me first, and so I told them), they locked me up into a room i' 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 escaped. But, sir, thus much I can assure you; for I heard it while II was locked up; there were a great many rich merchants, and brave citizens' wives with them, at a feast, and your son, Mr Edward, withdrew with one of them, and has appointed 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.

Well. By this hand, thou shalt have her. will go fetch her presently. Point but where to meet, and, as I am an honest man, I will bring her.

E. Kno. Hold, hold, be temperate.
Well. Why, by

what shall I swear by?

thou shalt have her, as I am

E. Kno. Pray thee, be at peace; I am satis-
fied, and do believe thou wilt omit no offered
occasion to make my desires complete.
Well. Thou shalt see, and know I will not.
[Exeunt.

Enter FORMAL and KNO'well.
Form. Was your man a soldier, sir?
Kno. Aye, a knave; I took him begging o' the
way,

This morning, as I came over Moorfields.

Enter BRAIN-WORM.

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Brain. Oh, 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.

Kno. How should that be! unless that villain,
Brain-worm,

Have told him of the letter, and discovered
All that I strictly charged him to conceal? "Tis so.
Brain. I am partly o' that faith; 'tis so, indeed.
Kno. But how should he know you to be my man?
Brain. Nay, sir, I cannot tell; unless it be by
the black art! Is not your son a scholar, sir?

Kno. Yes, but I hope his soul is not allied
Unto such hellish practice; if it were,
I had just cause to weep my part in him,
And curse the time of his creation.
But where didst thou find them, Fitz-Sword?
Brain. You should rather ask, where they

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Kno. Nor will I fail to break his match, I
doubt not.

Go thou along with justice Clement's man,
And stay there for me. At one Cob's house,
say'st thou ?

Brain. Aye, sir, there you shall have him.
[Exit KNO'WELL.] Yes! invisible! much wench,
or much son! 'Slight, when he has staid there
three or four hours, travailling with the expecta-
tion of wonders, and at length be delivered 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 before him in this shape. I have another
trick to act yet. [To FORMAL.] Sir, I make you
stay somewhat long.

Form. Not a whit, sir;

You have been lately in the wars, sir, it seems? Brain. Marry have I, sir, to my loss, and expence 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

Brain. 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 MileEnd.

Brain. No, I assure you, sir; why, at any time, when it please you, I shall be ready to discourse with you all I know; and more too, somewhat.

Form. No better time than now, sir. We will go to the Windmill, there we shall have a cup of neat grist, as we call it. I pray you, sir, let me request you to the Windmill.

Brain. I will follow you, sir, and make grist of you, if I have good luck. [Exeunt.

Enter MATTHEW, Edward Kno’WELL, BOBADIL, and STEPHEN.

done, say the enemy were forty thousand strong; very near, or altogether, as well as myself. This we twenty would come into the field the tenth Mat. Sir, did your eyes ever taste the like of March, or thereabouts; and we would chalclown of him, where we were to-day, Mr Well-lenge twenty of the enemy; they could not, in bred's half brother? I think the whole earth cannot shew his parallel, by this day-light.

E. Kno. We are now speaking of him. Captain Bobadil tells me he is fallen foul of you too. Mat. O aye, sir! he threatened me with the bastinado.

Bob. Aye, but chink 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. O, you do not give spirit enough to your motion; you are too tardy, too heavy! O, it must be done like lightning; hey!

[He practises at a post.

Mat. Rare captain! Bob. Tut, 'tis nothing, an't be done in apunto!

E. Kno. 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. They have assaulted me some three, four, five, six of them together, as I have walked alone in divers skirts of the town, where I have driven them before 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 policy not to go disarmed; for, though I be skilful, I may be oppressed with multitudes.

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 Lation? 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

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 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 wea pon on him! Let this gentleman do his mind: but I will bastinado him, by the bright sun, whereever 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 runs away.]

Dow. 'Sdeath, you will not draw, then?
Bob. Hold, hold, under thy favour, forbear.

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.

close to me-Oh me-[Sighs.] Lend me thy arm --so, good Cash.

Cash. You tremble, and look pale! Let me call assistance.

-Alas!

Kite. Not for ten thousand worldsalas! it is not in medicine to give me ease—here,

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 your-here it lies. self; 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 wea

pon.

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 bought it.

say

I

E. Kno. Take heed you buy it not too dear, [Exeunt,

coz.

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 bye-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 heardst 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 vermin 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

Cash. What, sir?

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.

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-This aggravation is not to be borne. [Laughing again.] Hark, again!--Cash, do thou, unseen, steal in upon them, and listen to their wanton conference.

Cash. I shall obey you, though against my will. [Exit.

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 gone.

Cash, If you suspect my faith

Kite. I do not-say no more--and, for my sake, let it die and be forgotten-Have you seen your mistress, and heard--whence was that noise?

Cash. Your brother, Master Well-bred, is with them, and I found them throwing out their mirth on a very truly ridiculous subject; it is one Formal, as he stiles himself, and he appertains, so he phrases it, to Justice Clement, and would speak with you.

Kite. With me! Art thou sure it is the justice's clerk? Where is he?

Enter BRAIN-WORM as FORMAL. Who are you, friend?

Brain. An appendix to Justice Clement, vulgarly called his clerk.

Kite. What are your wants with me?
Brain. None.

Kite. Do you not want to speak with me?
Brain. No, but my master does.

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.

Be careful of thy promise, keep good watch.
Wilt thou be true, my Thomas?

Cash. As truth's self, sir

But be assured you're heaping care and trouble
Upon a sandy base; ill-placed suspicion
Recoils upon yourself--She's chaste as comely!
Believe it, she is—Let her not note your hu-

mour;

Disperse the gloom upon your brow, and be
As clear as her unsullied honour.

Kite. I will, then, Cash-thou comfortest me--
I'll drive these

Fiend-like fancies from me, and be myself again.
Think'st thou, she has perceived my folly? "Twere
Happy, if she had not-She has not-
They, who know no evil, will suspect none.

Cash. True, sir, nor has your mind a blemish

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,
And hurt the peace and order of my house.

Well. No harm done, brother, I warrant you.
Since there is no harm done, anger costs
A man nothing, and a brave 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 brave
Musician unless he play?

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.

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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!
I should as soon suspect myself--No, no,
My confidence is rooted in thy merit,

[Aside.

So fixed and settled, that, wert thou inclined
To masks, to sports, and balls, where lusty youth
Leads up the wanton dance, and the raised pulse
Beats quicker measures, yet I could with joy,
With heart's ease and security-not but
I had rather thou should'st prefer thy home,
And me, to toys and such like vanities.

Dame. But sure, my dear,

A wife may moderately use these pleasures, 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,
And be the foremost reveller. I'll silence
The sneers of Envy, stop the tongue of Slander;
Nor will I more be pointed at, as one
Disturbed with jealousy-

Dame. Why, were you ever so?

Kite. What!-Ha! never-ha, ha, ha!
She stabs me home. [Aside.] Jealous of thee!
No, do not believe it-Speak low, my love,
Thy brother will overhear us-No, no, my dear.
It could not be, it could not be-for-for-
What is the time now? I shall be too late-
No, no, thou may'st be satisfied

There's not the smallest spark remaining—
Remaining! What do I say? There never was,
Nor can, nor ever shall be-so be satisfied—
Is Cob within there? Give me a kiss,
My dear; there, there, now we are reconciled---
I'll be back immediately-Good-bye, good-bye-
Ha! ha! jealous, I shall burst my sides with

laughing,

Ha, ha! Cob, where are you, Cob? Ha, ha!— [Exit.

[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

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