(SCENE 2.)
Enter Lord Furnifall, Rudsbie, Goosecappe, Foulweather, Bullaker.
Fur. Nay, my gallants, I will tell you more.
All. Forth, good my Lord.
Fur. The evening came, and then our waxen starres
Sparkled about the heavenly Court of Fraunce,
When I then young and radiant as the sunne
Gave luster to those lamps, and curling thus
My golden foretoppe stept into the presence,
Where set with other princely Dames I found
The Countesse of Lancalier, and her neece,
Who as I told you cast so fix'd an eye
On my behaviours, talking with the King.
All. True, my good Lord.
Fur. They rose when I came in, and all the lights Burn'd dim for shame, when I stood up, and shin'd.
Foul. O most passionate description, sir Cutt.
Rud. True, of a candles end.
Goos. The passingst description of a candle that ever lived, sir Cutt.
Fur. Yet aym'd I not at them, nor seemed to note
What grace they did me, but found courtly cause
To talke with an accomplisht gentleman
New come from Italy; in quest of newes
I spake Italian with him.
Rud. What so young?
Fur. O rarissime volte cadono nel parlar nostro familiare.
Foul. Slid, a cood speake it, Knight, at three yeeres old.
Fur. Nay, gentle Captaine, doe not set me forth; I love it not, in truth I love it not.
Foul. Slight, my Lord, but truth is truth, you know.
Goos. I dare ensure your Lordship, Truth is truth, and I have heard in France, they speake French as well as their mother tongue, my Lord.
Fur. Why tis their mother tongue, my noble Knight.
But (as I tell you) I seem'd not to note
The Ladies notes of me, but held my talke,
With that Italionate Frenchman, and tooke time
(Still as our conference serv'd) to shew my Courtship
In the three quarter legge, and setled looke,
The quicke kisse of the top of the forefinger,
And other such exploytes of good Accost;
All which the Ladies tooke into their eyes
With such attention that their favours swarm'd
About my bosome, in my hart, mine eares,
In skarffes about my thighes, upon mine armes
Thicke on my wristes, and thicker on my hands,
And still the lesse I sought, the more I found.
All this I tell to this notorious end,
That you may use your Courtship with lesse care
To your coy mistresses; As when we strike
A goodly Sammon, with a little line,
We doe not tugge to hale her up by force,
For then our line wood breake, and our hooke lost;
But let her carelesse play alongst the streame,
As you had left her, and sheele drowne her selfe.
Foul. A my life a most rich comparison.
Goos. Never stirre if it be not a richer Caparison then my Lorde my Cosin wore at Tilt, for that was brodred with nothing but moone-shine ith the water, and this has Sammons in't; by heaven a most edible Caparison.
Ru. Odious thou woodst say, for Comparisons are odious.
Foul. So they are indeed, sir Cut., all but my Lords.
Goos. Be Caparisons odious, sir Cut; what, like flowers?
Rud. O asse they be odorous.[39]
Goos. A botts a that stincking word odorous, I can never hitt on't.
Fur. And how like you my Court-counsell, gallants, ha?
Foul. Out of all proportion excellent, my Lord; and beleeve it, for Emphaticall Courtship, your Lordship puts downe all the Lords of the Court.
Fur. No, good Captaine, no.
Foul. By France you doe, my Lord, for Emphaticall Courtship.
Fur. For Emphaticall Courtship indeed I can doe somewhat.
Foul. Then does your merry entertainment become you so festifally, that you have all the bravery of a Saint Georges Day about ye, when you use it.
Fur. Nay thats too much, in sadnesse, Captaine.
Goos. O good, my Lord, let him prayse you, what so ere it costs your Lordship.
Foul. I assure your Lordship, your merry behaviour does so festifally show upon you, that every high holliday, when Ladies wood be most beautifull, every one wishes to God she were turnd into such a little Lord as you, when y'are merry.
Goos. By this fire they doe my Lord, I have heard am.
Fur. Marry God forbid, Knight, they shood be turnd into me; I had rather be turnd into them, a mine honour.
Foul. Then for your Lordships quips, and quicke jests, why Gesta Romanorum were nothing to them, a my vertue.
Fur. Well, well, well, I will heare thee no more, I will heare thee no more, good Captaine. Tha's an excellent wit, and thou shalt have Crownes, a mine honour, and now Knights, and Captaine, the foole you told me off, do you all know him?
Goos. I know him best my Lord.
Fur. Doe you sir Gyles? to him then, good Knight, and be here with him and here, and here, and here againe; I meane paint him unto us sir Gyles, paint him lively, lively now, my good Knightly boy.
Goos. Why my good Lord? he will nere be long from us, because we are all mortall you know.
Fur. Very true.
Goos. And as soone as ever we goe to Dinner, and Supper together—
Rud. Dinner and supper together, whens that troe?
Goos. A will come you in amongst us, with his Cloake buttond, loose under his chinne.
Rud. Buttond loose, my Lord?
Goos. I my Lord, buttond loose still, and both the flaps cast over before both his shoulders afore him.
Rud. Both shoulders afore him?
Fur. From before him he meanes; forth good sir Gyles.
Goos. Like a potentate, my Lord?
Rud. Much like a Potentate indeed.
Goos. For all the world like a Potentate, sir Cut. ye know.
Rud. So Sir.
Goos. All his beard nothing but haire.
Rud. Or something else.
Goos. Or something else as you say.
Foul. Excellent good.
Goos. His Mellons, or his Apricocks, Orrenges alwaies in an uncleane hand-kerchiffe, very cleanely, I warrant you, my Lord.
Fur. A good neate foole, sir Gyles, of mine honour.
Goose. Then his fine words that he sets them in, concaticall, a fine Annisseede wench foole, upon ticket, and so forth.
Fur. Passing strange words beleeve me.
Goos. Knoth every man at the table, though he never saw him before, by sight, and then will he foole you so finely my Lord, that he will make your hart ake, till your eyes runne over.
Fur. The best that ever I heard, pray mercy, good Knight, for thy merry description. Captaine, I give thee twenty companies of commendations, never to be cashierd.
Enter Iacke, and Will on the other side.
Am. Save your Lordship.
Fur. My pretty cast-of Merlins,[40] what prophecies with your little maestershippes?
Ia. Things that cannot come to passe my Lord, the worse our fortunes.
Foul. Why, whats the matter Pages?
Rud. How now, my Ladies foysting[41] hounds.
Goos. M. Iacke, M. Ia. how do ye M. William? frolicke?
Wil. Not so frolicke, as you left us, sir Gyles.
Fur. Why wags, what news bring you a Gods name?
Ia. Heavy newes indeed, my Lord, pray pardon us.
Fur. Heavy newes? not possible your little bodies cood bring am then, unload those your heavy newes, I beseech ye.
Wil. Why my Lord the foole we tooke for your Lord: is thought too wise for you, and we dare not present him.
Goos. Slydd Pages, youle not cheates of our foole, wil ye?
Ia. Why, sir Gyles, hees too dogged, and bitter for you in truth; we shall bring you a foole to make you laugh, and he shall make all the World laugh at us.
Wil. I indeed, sir Gyles, and he knowes you so wel too.
Gyles. Know me? slight he knowes me no more then the begger knowes his dish.[42]
Ia. Faith he begs you to be content, sir Gyles, for he wil not come.
Goos. Beg me? slight, I wood I had knowne that, tother Day, I thought I had met him in Paules, and he had bin any body else but a piller, I wood have runne him through by heaven: beg me?
Foul. He begges you to be content, sir Gyles; that is, he praies you.
Goos. O does he praise me then I commend him.
Fur. Let this unsutable foole goe, sir Gyles; we will make shift without him.
Goos. That we wil, a my word, my Lord, and have him too for all this.
Wil. Doe not you say so, sir Gyles, for to tell you true that foole is dead.
Goos. Dead? slight that can not be, man; I know he wood ha writ to me ant had byn so.
Fur. Quick or dead, let him goe, sir Giles.
Ia. I, my Lord, for we have better newes for you to harken after.
Fur. What are they, my good Novations?
Ia. My Lord Momford intreates your Lordship, and these knights and captaine to accompany the Countesse Eugenia, and the other two Ladies, at his house at supper to night.
Wil. All desiring your Lo: to pardon them, for not eating your meat to night.
Fur. Withall my hart wagges, and thers amends; my harts, now set your courtshippe a' the last, a the tainters, and pricke up your selves for the Ladies.
Goos. O brave sir Cut: come lets pricke up the Ladies.
Fur. And will not the Knights two noble kinsemen be there?
Ia. Both will be there, my Lord.
Fur. Why theres the whole knot of us then, and there shall we knocke up the whole triplicitie of your nuptials.
Goos. Ile make my Lord my Cosin speake for me.
Foul. And your Lordship will be for me I hope.
Fur. With tooth and naile Captaine, a my Lord[ship].
Rud. Hang am Tytts! ile pommell my selfe into am.
Ia. Your Lo: your Cosin, sir Gyles, has promist the Ladies they shall see you sowe.
Goos. Gods me, wood I might never be mortall, if I doe not carry my worke with me.
Fur. Doe so sir Gyles, and withall use meanes
To taint their high blouds with the shafte of Love.
Sometimes a fingers motion wounds their mindes:
A jest, a jesture, or a prettie laugh:
A voyce, a present; ah, things done ith nicke
Wound deepe, and sure; and let flie your gold,
And we shall nuptialls have, hold, belly, hold.
Goos. O rare sir Cut. we shall eate nut-shells: hold, belly, hold!
[Exeunt.
Ia.—O pittifull Knight, that knowes not nuptialls from nut-shells!
Wil. And now Comme porte vous, monsieur!
Bul. Porte bien, vous remercy.
Ia. We may see it indeed, Sir, and you shall goe afore with us.
Bul. No good monsieurs.
Wil. Another Crashe in my Ladies Celler yfaith, monsieur.
Bul. Remercy de bon ceur, monsieurs.
[Exeunt.