Act I
Scene I.—In Knowell's house. Enter Knowell, with a letter from Well-Bred to Young Knowell.
Knowell: This letter is directed to my son.
Yet I will break it open.
What's here? What's this?
(Reads) "Why, Ned, I beseech thee, hast thou forsworn
all thy friends i' the Old Jewry? Dost thou
think us all Jews that inhabit there yet? If thou dost,
come over and but see our frippery. Leave thy vigilant
father alone, to number over his green apricots evening
and morning, o' the north-west wall. Prythee, come over
to me quickly this morning; I have such a present for
thee! One is a rhymer, sir, o' your own batch, but doth
think himself a poet-major of the town; the other, I
will not venture his description till you come."
Why, what unhallowed ruffian would have writ
In such a scurrilous manner to a friend!
Why should he think I tell my apricots?
[Enter Brain-Worm.
Take you this letter, and deliver it my son,
But with no notice I have opened it, on your life.
[Exeunt. Then, enter Young Knowell, with the letter, and Brain-Worm.
Young Knowell: Did he open it, say'st thou?
Brain-Worm: Yes, o' my word, sir, and read the contents. For he charged me on my life to tell nobody that he opened it, which unless he had done he would never fear to have it revealed.
[Young Knowell moves apart to read the letter. Enter Stephen. Knowell laughs.
Stephen: 'Slid, I hope he laughs not at me; an he do——
Knowell: Here was a letter, indeed, to be intercepted by a man's father! Well, if he read this with patience—— (Seeing Stephen) What, my wise cousin! Nay, then, I'll furnish our feast with one gull more. How now, Cousin Stephen—melancholy?
STEPHEN: Yes, a little. I thought you had laughed at me, cousin.
Knowell: Be satisfied, gentle coz, and, I pray you, let me entreat a courtesy of you. I am sent for this morning by a friend in the Old Jewry: will you bear me company?
Stephen: Sir, you shall command me twice as far.
Knowell: Now, if I can but hold him up to his height!
Scene II.—Bobadill's room, a mean chamber, in Cob's house. Bobadill lying on a bench. Enter Matthew, ushered in by Tib.
Matthew: 'Save you, sir; 'save you, captain.
Bobadill: Gentle Master Matthew! Sit down, I pray you. Master Matthew in any case, possess no gentlemen of our acquaintance with notice of my lodging. Not that I need to care who know it! But in regard I would not be too popular and generally visited, as some are.
Matthew: True, captain, I conceive you.
Bobadill: For do you see, sir, by the heart of valour in me except it be to some peculiar and choice spirit like yourself—but what new book have you there?
Matthew: Indeed, here are a number of fine speeches in this book.
"O eyes, no eyes, but fountains fraught with tears"—
There's a conceit! Another:
"O life, no life but lively form of death!
O world, no world but mass of public wrongs"—
O the Muses! Is't not excellent? But when will you come to see my study? Good faith I can show you some very good things I have done of late. But, captain, Master Well-bred's elder brother and I are fallen out exceedingly.
Bobadill: Squire Down-right, the half-brother was't not? Hang him rook! Come hither; you shall chartel him. I'll show you a trick or two you shall kill him with, at pleasure, the first staccato, if you will, by this air. Come, put on your cloak, and we'll go to some private place where you are acquainted, some tavern or so. What money ha' you about you?
Matthew: Faith, not past a two shillings or so.
Bobadill: 'Tis somewhat with the least; but come, we will have a bunch of radish and salt to taste our wine, and after we'll call upon Young Well-bred.
[Exeunt.