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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

(Ereunt. Stephen; but I cannot stay to praise it longer

now; and I am very sorry for't. [Erit. SCENE II.— Young Kno’well's Study. Step. Another time will serve, Brain-worm.-Enter EDWARD KNO’well and 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! tents.

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 .

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

him in such a minute of his patience; then we Enter Master STEPHEN.

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 cousin ! nay, fellow here, in a what sha'-call him doublet? He then, I'll furnish our feast with one gull more tobroaght 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?

theeBrain. Faith, he is not of that mind: he is Step. O, 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 ! whorcson, 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? Bruin. 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

Bruin. Why, a fine wisp of hay, rolled hard; cle, I did laugh at you, coz. master Stephen

Slep: 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 Step. 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 entreat a courtesy of you. I am sent you else.

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

worm,

may founder

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Moor-gate: will you bear me company? I pro Mat. Thy lineage, monsieur Cob? What li-
test, 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. Sir, 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 bath 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-foil'd 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 Mat. 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 wraj and play him for forty pounds. Come, coz. ped about him, as though he had neither won nor Step. r'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 Dlat. 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) aster Matthew.

deal with water, and not with wine. Give me 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

this. What hoa! my stopple! come, Enter Cob, from the House.

Mat. Lie in a water-bearer's house! A genCob. Who is there? O, 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 ntance 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 Mai. Who? I, sir! No. serve water) one Master Kitely's i'th' Old Jewry; Bob. 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 Mut. 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 then Mat. 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 tun:ult and roar of fortune. such an oath? Oh, I have a guest, (he teaches What new book ha' you there? Read it. What ! me) lie does swear the legiblest of any man chris Go by, Hieronymo?" tened: by St George the foot of Pharaoh Mat. 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 Bób. 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. [Exit. 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, 'ConBob. 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

сир

o'thy small-beer, sweet hostess. Is't not simply the best that ever you heard, capTib. Sir, there's a gentleman below would tain ; Ha! how do you like it? speak with you.

Beb. '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. [Within.) 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 MATTIIEW.

age: the infancy of my muses. But, when will Nat. '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 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, alut. 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 : I ever he saw, was but new risen as you camne. How passes Bob. 'Squire Downright, the balf-brother, was't the day abroad, sir? can you tell?

not?

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 holden. I body 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. most irregularly ! He was born for the manger, pannier, or pack Mat. 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, name it a passada; Bob 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 judg., none of his word. But when when said he so? ment renders you tedious. Mat. Faith, yesterday, they say: a young gal

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

Bob. Venue! Fy! most gross denomination Bob. 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 Alat. 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.

ha'

you breath-utterable skill, sir.

about you, master Matthew ? Bob. By Heaven, no, not I; no skill i' the 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 own 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; lead 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. band, and let your poniard maintain your de

What money

or so.

ACT II.

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

gold,

And weigh it, with the pieces of eight. Do you Enter KITELY, CASH, and DOWNRIGIIT.

See the delivery of those silver stuffs 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 keyIt is no matter, nei. And I will meet him, on the Exchange, anon. ther.

Cask. 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?

Kite. He is a jewel, brother.

mineer, till his heart ache; an' he think to be I took him of a child, up, at my door,

relieved by me, when he is got into one of your And christened him; gave him my own name, city-ponds, the counters, he has the wrong sow Thomas;

by the ear, i'faith, and claps his dish at a wrong Since bred him at the hospital; where proving inan's door. I'll lay my hand o' my halfpenny, A toward imp, I called him home, and taught him ere I part with it, to fetch him out, I'll assure So much, as I have made him my cashier, him. And given him, who had none, a surname, Cash ; Kite. Nay, good brother, let it not trouble you And find him, in his place, so full of faith, thus. That I durst trust my life into his hands.

Down. 'Sdeath, he mads me I could eat my Down. So would not I, in any bastard's, bro- very spur-leathers, for anger ! But, why are you ther,

so tame? Why do not you speak to him, and tell As, it is like, he is, although I knew

him how he disquiets your house? Myself his father. But you said you'd somewhat Kite. O, there are divers reasons to dissuade, To tell me, gentle brother; what is't? what is't?

brother; Kite. Faith, I am very loth to utter it, But, would yourself vouchsafe to travail in it, As fearing it may hurt your patience :

Though but with plain and easy circumstance, But that, I know, your judgment is of strength, It would both come much better to his sense, Against the nearness of affection

And savour less of stomach, or of passion. Down. What need this circumstance? Pray You are his elder brother, and that title you, be direct.

Both gives and warrants your authority, Kite. I will not say how much I do ascribe Which, by your presence seconded, must breed Unto your friendship; nor, in what regard A kind of duty in him, and regard : I hold your love; but, let my past behaviour, Whereas, if I should intimate the least, And usage of your sister, but confirm

It would but add contempt to his neglect, How well I've been affected to your

Heap worse on ill, make up a pile of hatred, Down. You are too tedious; come to the mat- That, in the rearing, would come tottering down, ter, the matter.

And in the ruin bury all our love. Kite. Then, without further ceremony, thus. Nay, more than this, brother; if I should speak, My brother Well-bred, sir, I know not how, He would be ready, from his heat of humour, Of late, is much declined in what he was, And overflowing of the vapour in him, And greatly altered in his disposition.

To blow the ears of his familiars When he came first to lodge, here, in my house, With the false breath of telling what disgraces Ne'er trust me, if I were not proud of him : And low disparagements I had put upon him. Methought he bare himself in such a fashion, Whilst they, sir, to relieve him in the fable, So full of man, and sweetness in his carriage. Make their loose comments upon every word, And, what was chief, it shewed not borrowed in Gesture, or look, I use; mock me all o'er, him,

From my flat cap, unto my shining shoes ; But all he did became him as his own,

And, out of their impetuous rioting phantasies, And seemed as perfect, proper, and possest,

Beget some slander that shall dwell with me. As breath with life, or colour with the blood : And what would that be, think you? Marry, this : But now his course is so irregular,

They would give out, because my wife is fair, So loose, affected, and deprived of grace, Myself but newly married, and my sister And he himself, withall, so far fallen off

Here sojourning a virgin in my house, From that first place, as scarce no note remains, That I were jealous ! Nay, as sure as death, To tell men's judgments where he lately stood. That they would say: and how that I had quarHe's grown a stranger to all due respect;

relled Forgetful of his friends; and, not content My brother purposely, thereby to find To stale himself in all societies,

An apt pretext to banish them my house. He makes my house, here, common as a mart, Down. Mass, perhaps so : they're like enough A theatre, a public receptacle

to do it. For giddy humour, and diseased riot :

Kite. Brother, they would, believe it : sa And here, as in a tavern or a stew,

should I, He and his wild associates spend their hours Like one of these penurious quack-salvers, In repetition of lascivious jests :

But set the bills up to mine own disgrace, Swear, leap, drink, dance, and revel night by And try experiments upon myself; night,

Lend scorn and envy opportunity Controul my servants; and, indeed, what not ! To stab my reputation and good name.

Down. 'Sdains, I know not what I should say to him in the whole world! he values me at a

Enter MATTHEW and BOBADIL. cracked three-farthings, for aught I see. It will Mat. I will speak to himnever out of the flesh, that's bred in the bone ! Bob. Speak to him! Away! by the foot of I have told him enough, one would think, if that Pharoah, you shall not ; you shall not do him wonld serve. Well! he knows what to trust to, that grace. The time of day to you, gentleman for George. Let him spend and spend, and do- of the house. Is Mr Well-bred stirring

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