SCENE III. — AN APARTMENT AT THE COURT
ENTER MACILENTE, FASTIDIOUS, BOTH IN A NEW SUIT, AND CINEDO, WITH TOBACCO.
FAST. Well, now signior Macilente, you are not only welcome to the court,
but also to my mistress's withdrawing chamber — Boy, get me some tobacco.
I'll but go in, and shew I am here, and come to you presently, sir.
[EXIT.
MACI. What's that he said? by heaven, I mark'd him not:
My thoughts and I were of another world.
I was admiring mine own outside here,
To think what privilege and palm it bears
Here, in the court! be a man ne'er so vile,
In wit, in judgment, manners, or what else;
If he can purchase but a silken cover,
He shall not only pass, but pass regarded:
Whereas, let him be poor, and meanly clad,
Though ne'er so richly parted, you shall have
A fellow that knows nothing but his beef,
Or how to rince his clammy guts in beer,
Will take him by the shoulders, or the throat,
And kick him down the stairs. Such is the state
Of virtue in bad clothes! — ha, ha, ha, ha!
That raiment should be in such high request!
How long should I be, ere I should put off
To the lord chancellor's tomb, or the shrives' poste?
By heav'n, I think, a thousand, thousand year.
His gravity, his wisdom, and his faith
To my dread sovereign, graces that survive him,
These I could well endure to reverence,
But not his tomb; no more than I'd commend
The chapel organ for the gilt without,
Or this base-viol, for the varnish'd face.
RE-ENTER FASTIDIOUS.
FAST. I fear I have made you stay somewhat long, sir; but is my tobacco
ready, boy?
CIN. Ay, sir.
FAST. Give me; my mistress is upon coming, you shall see her presently,
sir. [PUFFS.] You'll say you never accosted a more piercing wit. — This
tobacco is not dried, boy, or else the pipe is defective. — Oh, your wits
of Italy are nothing comparable to her: her brain's a very quiver of
jests, and she does dart them abroad with that sweet, loose, and judicial
aim, that you would — here she comes, sir.
[SAVIOLINA LOOKS IN, AND DRAWS BACK AGAIN.
MACI. 'Twas time, his invention had been bogged else.
SAV. [WITHIN.] Give me my fan there.
MACI. How now, monsieur Brisk?
FAST. A kind of affectionate reverence strikes me with a cold shivering,
methinks.
MACI. I like such tempers well, as stand before their mistresses with fear
and trembling; and before their Maker, like impudent mountains!
FAST. By this hand, I'd spend twenty pound my vaulting horse stood here
now, she might see do but one trick.
MACI. Why, does she love activity?
CIN. Or, if you had but your long stockings on, to be dancing a galliard
as she comes by.
FAST. Ay, either. O, these stirring humours make ladies mad with desire;
she comes. My good genius embolden me: boy, the pipe quickly.
ENTER SAVIOLINA.
MACI. What! will he give her music?
FAST. A second good morrow to my fair mistress.
SAV. Fair servant, I'll thank you a day hence, when the date of your
salutation comes forth.
FAST. How like you that answer? is't not admirable?
MACI. I were a simple courtier, if I could not admire trifles, sir.
FAST. [TALKS AND TAKES TOBACCO BETWEEN THE BREAKS.] Troth, sweet lady, I
shall [PUFFS] — be prepared to give you thanks for those thanks, and —
study more officious, and obsequious regards — to your fair beauties. —
Mend the pipe, boy.
MACI. I never knew tobacco taken as a parenthesis before.
FAST. 'Fore God, sweet lady, believe it, I do honour the meanest rush in
this chamber for your love.
SAV. Ay, you need not tell me that, sir; I do think you do prize a rush
before my love.
MACI. Is this the wonder of nations!
FAST. O, by this air, pardon me, I said 'for' your love, by this light:
but it is the accustomed sharpness of your ingenuity, sweet mistress, to
[TAKES DOWNTHE VIOL, AND PLAYS] — mass, your viol's new strung, methinks.
MACI. Ingenuity! I see his ignorance will not suffer him to slander her,
which he had done notably, if he had said wit for ingenuity, as he meant it.
FAST. By the soul of music, lady — HUM, HUM.
SAV. Would we might hear it once.
FAST. I do more adore and admire your — HUM, HUM — predominant
perfections, than — HUM, HUM — ever I shall have power and faculty to
express — HUM.
SAV. Upon the viol de gambo, you mean?
FAST. It's miserably out of tune, by this hand.
SAV. Nay, rather by the fingers.
MACI. It makes good harmony with her wit.
FAST. Sweet lady, tune it. [SAVIOLINA TUNES THE VIOL.] — Boy, some tobacco.
MACI. Tobacco again! he does court his mistress with very exceeding good
changes.
FAST. Signior Macilente, you take none, sir?
MACI. No, unless I had a mistress, signior, it were a great indecorum for
me to take tobacco.
FAST. How like you her wit?
[TALKS AND TAKES TOBACCO BETWEEN AGAIN.
MACI. Her ingenuity is excellent, sir.
FAST. You see the subject of her sweet fingers there — Oh, she tickles it
so, that — She makes it laugh most divinely; — I'll tell you a good jest
now, and yourself shall say it's a good one: I have wished myself to be
that instrument, I think, a thousand times, and not so few, by heaven! —
MACI. Not unlike, sir; but how? to be cased up and hung by on the wall?
FAST. O, no, sir, to be in use, I assure you; as your judicious eyes may
testify. —
SAV. Here, servant, if you will play, come.
FAST. Instantly, sweet lady. — In good faith, here's most divine tobacco!
SAV. Nay, I cannot stay to dance after your pipe.
FAST. Good! Nay, dear lady, stay; by this sweet smoke, I think your wit
be all fire. —
MACI. And he's the salamander belongs to it.
SAV. Is your tobacco perfumed, servant, that you swear by the sweet smoke?
FAST. Still more excellent! Before heaven, and these bright lights, I
think — you are made of ingenuity, I —
MACI. True, as your discourse is. O abominable!
FAST. Will your ladyship take any?
SAV. O peace, I pray you; I love not the breath of a woodcock's head.
FAST. Meaning my head, lady?
SAV. Not altogether so, sir; but, as it were fatal to their follies that
think to grace themselves with taking tobacco, when they want better
entertainment, you see your pipe bears the true form of a woodcock's head.
FAST. O admirable simile!
AV. 'Tis best leaving of you in admiration, sir.
[EXIT.
MACI. Are these the admired lady-wits, that having so good a plain song,
can run no better division upon it? All her jests are of the stamp March
was fifteen years ago. Is this the comet, monsieur Fastidious, that your
gallants wonder at so?
FAST. Heart of a gentleman, to neglect me afore the presence thus! Sweet
sir, I beseech you be silent in my disgrace. By the muses, I was never in
so vile a humour in my life, and her wit was at the flood too! Report it
not for a million, good sir: let me be so far endeared to your love.
[EXEUNT.
MIT. What follows next, signior Cordatus? this gallant's humour is almost
spent; methinks it ebbs apace, with this contrary breath of his mistress.
COR. O, but it will flow again for all this, till there come a general
drought of humour among our actors, and then I fear not but his will fall
as low as any. See who presents himself here!
MIT. What, in the old case?
COR. Ay, faith, which makes it the more pitiful; you understand where the
scene is?

[ [!-- H2 anchor --] ]

ACT IV

SCENE I. — A ROOM IN DELIRO'S HOUSE.
ENTER FUNGOSO, FALLACE FOLLOWING HIM.
FAL. Why are you so melancholy, brother?
FUNG. I am not melancholy, I thank you, sister.
FAL. Why are you not merry then? there are but two of us in all the
world, and if we should not be comforts one to another, God help us!
FUNG. Faith, I cannot tell, sister; but if a man had any true melancholy
in him, it would make him melancholy to see his yeomanly father cut his
neighbours' throats, to make his son a gentleman; and yet, when he has cut
them, he will see his son's throat cut too, ere he make him a true
gentleman indeed, before death cut his own throat. I must be the first
head of our house, and yet he will not give me the head till I be made so.
Is any man termed a gentleman, that is not always in the fashion? I would
know but that.
FAL. If you be melancholy for that, brother, I think I have as much cause
to be melancholy as any one: for I'll be sworn, I live as little in the
fashion as any woman in London. By the faith of a gentlewoman, beast that
I am to say it! I have not one friend in the world besides my husband.
When saw you master Fastidious Brisk, brother?
FUNG. But a while since, sister, I think: I know not well in truth. By
this hand I could fight with all my heart, methinks.
FAL. Nay, good brother, be not resolute.
FUNG. I sent him a letter, and he writes me no answer neither.
FAL. Oh, sweet Fastidious Brisk! O fine courtier! thou are he makest me
sigh, and say, how blessed is that woman that hath a courtier to her
husband, and how miserable a dame she is, that hath neither husband, nor
friend in the court! O sweet Fastidious! O fine courtier! How comely he
bows him in his court'sy! how full he hits a woman between the lips when
he kisses! how upright he sits at the table! how daintily he carves! how
sweetly he talks, and tells news of this lord and of that lady! how
cleanly he wipes his spoon at every spoonful of any whitemeat he eats! and
what a neat case of pick-tooths he carries about him still! O sweet
Fastidious! O fine courtier!
ENTER DELIRO AT A DISTANCE, WITH MUSICIANS.
DELI. See, yonder she is, gentlemen. Now, as ever you'll bear the name of
musicians, touch your instruments sweetly; she has a delicate ear, I tell
you: play not a false note, I beseech you.
MUSI. Fear not, signior Deliro.
DELI. O, begin, begin, some sprightly thing: lord, how my imagination
labours with the success of it! [THEY STRIKE UP A LIVELY TUNE.] Well
said, good i'faith! Heaven grant it please her. I'll not be seen, for
then she'll be sure to dislike it.
FAL. Hey — da! this is excellent! I'll lay my life this is my husband's
dotage. I thought so; nay, never play bo-peep with me; I know you do
nothing but study how to anger me, sir.
DELI. [COMING FORWARD.] Anger thee, sweet wife! why, didst thou not send
for musicians at supper last night thyself?
FAL. To supper, sir! now, come up to supper, I beseech you: as though
there were no difference between supper-time, when folks should be merry,
and this time when they should be melancholy. I would never take upon me
to take a wife, if I had no more judgment to please her.
DELI. Be pleased, sweet wife, and they shall have done; and would to fate
my life were done, if I can never please thee!
[EXEUNT MUSICIANS.
ENTER MACILENTE.
MACI. Save you lady; where is master Deliro?
DELI. Here, master Macilente: you are welcome from court, sir; no doubt
you have been graced exceedingly of master Brisk's mistress, and the rest
of the ladies for his sake.
MACI. Alas, the poor fantastic! he's scarce known
To any lady there; and those that know him,
Know him the simplest man of all they know:
Deride, and play upon his amorous humours,
Though he but apishly doth imitate
The gallant'st courtiers, kissing ladies' pumps,
Holding the cloth for them, praising their wits,
And servilely observing every one
May do them pleasure: fearful to be seen
With any man, though he be ne'er so worthy,
That's not in grace with some that are the greatest.
Thus courtiers do, and these he counterfeits,
But sets no such a sightly carriage
Upon their vanities, as they themselves;
And therefore they despise him: for indeed
He's like the zany to a tumbler,
That tries tricks after him, to make men laugh.
FAL. Here's an unthankful spiteful wretch! the good gentleman vouchsafed
to make him his companion, because my husband put him into a few rags, and
now see how the unrude rascal backbites him!
[ASIDE.
DELI. Is he no more graced amongst them then, say you?
MACI. Faith, like a pawn at chess: fills up a room, that's all.
FAL. O monster of men! can the earth bear such an envious caitiff?
[ASIDE.
DELI. Well, I repent me I ever credited him so much: but now I see what
he is, and that his masking vizor is off, I'll forbear him no longer. All
his lands are mortgaged to me, and forfeited; besides, I have bonds of his
in my hand, for the receipt of now fifty pounds now a hundred, now two
hundred; still, as he has had a fan but wagged at him, he would be in a new
suit. Well, I'll salute him by a serjeant, the next time I see him
i'faith, I'll suit him.
MACI. Why, you may soon see him sir, for he is to meet signior Puntarvolo
at a notary's by the Exchange, presently; where he meant to take up, upon
return.
FAL. Now, out upon thee, Judas! canst thou not be content to backbite thy
friend, but thou must betray him! Wilt thou seek the undoing of any man?
and of such a man too? and will you, sir, get your living by the counsel
of traitors?
DELI. Dear wife, have patience.
FAL. The house will fall, the ground will open and swallow us: I'll not
bide here for all the gold and silver in heaven.
[EXIT WITH FUNGOSO.
DELI. O, good Macilente, let's follow and appease her, or the peace of my
life is at an end.
[EXIT.
MACI. Now pease, and not peace, feed that life, whose head hangs so
heavily over a woman's manger!
[EXIT.

SCENE II. — ANOTHER ROOM IN THE SAME.
ENTER FALLACE AND FUNGOSO RUNNING; SHE CLAPS TO THE DOOR.
FAL. Help me, brother! Ods body, an you come here I'll do myself a mischief.
DELI. [WITHIN.] Nay, hear me, sweet wife; unless thou wilt have me go, I
will not go.
FAL. Tut, you shall never have that vantage of me, to say, you are undone
by me. I'll not bid you stay, I. Brother, sweet brother, here's four
angels, I'll give you towards your suit: for the love of gentry, and as
ever you came of Christian creature, make haste to the water side, (you
know where master Fastidious uses to land,) and give him warning of my
husband's malicious intent; and tell him of that lean rascal's treachery.
O heavens, how my flesh rises at him! Nay, sweet brother, make haste: you
may say, I would have writ to him, but that the necessity of the time would
not permit. He cannot choose but take it extraordinarily from me: and
commend me to him, good brother; say, I sent you.
[EXIT.
FUNG. Let me see, these four angels, and then forty shillings more I can
borrow on my gown in Fetter Lane. — Well, I will go presently, say on my
suit, pay as much money as I have, and swear myself into credit with my
tailor for the rest.
[EXIT.

SCENE III. — ANOTHER ROOM IN THE SAME.
ENTER DELIRO AND MACILENTE.
DELI. O, on my soul you wrong her, Macilente. Though she be froward, yet
I know she is honest.
MACI. Well, then have I no judgment. Would any woman, but one that were
wild in her affections, have broke out into that immodest and violent
passion against her husband? or is't possible —
DELI. If you love me, forbear; all the arguments i' the world shall never
wrest my heart to believe it.
[EXEUNT.
COR. How like you the deciphering of his dotage?
MIT. O, strangely: an of the other's envy too, that labours so seriously
to set debate betwixt a man and his wife. Stay, here comes the knight
adventurer.
COR. Ay, and his scrivener with him.

SCENE IV. — PUNTARVOLO'S LODGINGS.
ENTER PUNTARVOLO, NOTARY, AND SERVANTS WITH THE DOG AND CAT.
PUNT. I wonder monsieur Fastidious comes not! But, notary, if thou please
to draw the indentures the while, I will give thee thy instructions.
NOT. With all my heart, sir; and I'll fall in hand with them presently.
PUNT. Well then, first the sum is to be understood.
NOT. [WRITES.] Good, sir.
PUNT. Next, our several appellations, and character of my dog and cat,
must be known. Shew him the cat, sirrah.
NOT. So, sir.
PUNT. Then, that the intended bound is the Turk's court in Constantinople;
the time limited for our return, a year; and that if either of us miscarry,
the whole venture is lost. These are general, conceiv'st thou? or if
either of us turn Turk.
NOT. Ay, sir.
PUNT. Now, for particulars: that I may make my travels by sea or land, to
my best liking; and that hiring a coach for myself, it shall be lawful for
my dog or cat, or both, to ride with me in the said coach.
NOT. Very good, sir.
PUNT. That I may choose to give my dog or cat, fish, for fear of bones; or
any other nutriment that, by the judgment of the most authentical
physicians where I travel, shall be thought dangerous.
NOT. Well, sir.
PUNT. That, after the receipt of his money, he shall neither, in his own
person, nor any other, either by direct or indirect means, as magic,
witchcraft, or other such exotic arts, attempt, practise, or complot any
thing to the prejudice of me, my dog, or my cat: neither shall I use the
help of any such sorceries or enchantments, as unctions to make our skins
impenetrable, or to travel invisible by virtue of a powder, or a ring, or
to hang any three-forked charm about my dog's neck, secretly conveyed into
his collar; (understand you?) but that all be performed sincerely, without
fraud or imposture.
NOT. So, sir.
PUNT. That, for testimony of the performance, myself am to bring thence a
Turk's mustachio, my dog a Grecian hare's lips, and my cat the train or
tail of a Thracian rat.
NOT. [WRITES.] 'Tis done, sir.
PUNT. 'Tis said, sir; not done, sir. But forward; that, upon my return,
and landing on the Tower-wharf, with the aforesaid testimony, I am to
receive five for one, according to the proportion of the sums put forth.
NOT. Well, sir.
PUNT. Provided, that if before our departure, or setting forth, either
myself or these be visited with sickness, or any other casual event, so
that the whole course of the adventure be hindered thereby, that then he is
to return, and I am to receive the prenominated proportion upon fair and
equal terms.
NOT. Very good, sir; is this all?
PUNT. It is all, sir; and dispatch them, good notary.
NOT. As fast as is possible, sir.
[EXIT.
ENTER CARLO.
PUNT. O Carlo! welcome: saw you monsieur Brisk?
CAR. Not I: did he appoint you to meet here?
PUNT. Ay, and I muse he should be so tardy; he is to take an hundred
pounds of me in venture, if he maintain his promise.
CAR. Is his hour past?
PUNT. Not yet, but it comes on apace.
CAR. Tut, be not jealous of him; he will sooner break all the
commandments, than his hour; upon my life, in such a case trust him.
PUNT. Methinks, Carlo, you look very smooth, ha!
CAR. Why, I came but now from a hot-house; I must needs look smooth.
PUNT. From a hot-house!
CAR. Ay, do you make a wonder on't? why, it is your only physic. Let a
man sweat once a week in a hot-house, and be well rubb'd, and froted, with
a good plump juicy wench, and sweet linen, he shall ne'er have the pox.
PUNT. What, the French pox?
CAR. The French pox! out pox: we have them in as good a form as they,
man; what?
PUNT. Let me perish, but thou art a salt one! was your new-created
gallant there with you, Sogliardo?
CAR. O porpoise! hang him, no: he's a leiger at Horn's ordinary, yonder;
his villainous Ganymede and he have been droning a tobacco-pipe there ever
since yesterday noon.
PUNT. Who? signior Tripartite, that would give my dog the whiffe?
CAR. Ay, he. They have hired a chamber and all, private, to practise in,
for the making of the patoun, the receipt reciprocal, and a number of other
mysteries not yet extant. I brought some dozen or twenty gallants this
morning to view them, as you'd do a piece of perspective, in at a key-hole;
and there we might see Sogliardo sit in a chair, holding his snout up like
a sow under an apple-tree, while the other open'd his nostrils with a
poking-stick, to give the smoke a more free delivery. They had spit some
three or fourscore ounces between 'em, afore we came away.
PUNT. How! spit three or fourscore ounces?
CAR. Ay, and preserv'd it in porrengers, as a barber does his blood, when
he opens a vein.
PUNT. Out, pagan! how dost thou open the vein of thy friend?
CAR. Friend! is there any such foolish thing in the world, ha? 'slid I
never relished it yet.
PUNT. Thy humour is the more dangerous.
CAR. No, not a whit, signior. Tut, a man must keep time in all; I can oil
my tongue when I meet him next, and look with a good sleek forehead; 'twill
take away all soil of suspicion, and that's enough: what Lynceus can see
my heart? Pish, the title of a friend! it's a vain, idle thing, only
venerable among fools; you shall not have one that has any opinion of wit
affect it.
ENTER DELIRO AND MACILENTE.
DELI. Save you, good sir Puntarvolo.
PUNT. Signior Deliro! welcome.
DELI. Pray you, sir, did you see master Fastidious Brisk? I heard he was
to meet your worship here.
PUNT. You heard no figment, sir; I do expect him at every pulse of my watch.
DELI. In good time, sir.
CAR. There's a fellow now looks like one of the patricians of Sparta;
marry, his wit's after ten i' the hundred: a good bloodhound, a
close-mouthed dog, he follows the scent well; marry, he's at fault now,
methinks.
PUNT. I should wonder at that creature is free from the danger of thy tongue.
CAR. O, I cannot abide these limbs of satin, or rather Satan indeed, that
will walk, like the children of darkness, all day in a melancholy shop,
with their pockets full of blanks, ready to swallow up as many poor
unthrifts as come within the verge.
PUNT. So! and what hast thou for him that is with him, now?
CAR. O, d—n me! immortality! I'll not meddle with him; the pure element
of fire, all spirit, extraction.
PUNT. How, Carlo! ha, what is he, man?
CAR. A scholar, Macilente; do you not know him? a rank, raw-boned
anatomy, he walks up and down like a charged musket, no man dares encounter
him: that's his rest there.
PUNT. His rest! why, has he a forked head?
CAR. Pardon me, that's to be suspended; you are too quick, too apprehensive.
DELI. Troth, now I think on't, I'll defer it till some other time.
MACI. Not by any means, signior, you shall not lose this opportunity, he
will be here presently now.
DELI. Yes, faith, Macilente, 'tis best. For, look you, sir, I shall so
exceedingly offend my wife in't, that —
MACI. Your wife! now for shame lose these thoughts, and become the master
of your own spirits. Should I, if I had a wife, suffer myself to be thus
passionately carried to and fro with the stream of her humour, and neglect
my deepest affairs, to serve her affections? 'Slight, I would geld myself
first.
DELI. O, but signior, had you such a wife as mine is, you would —
MACI. Such a wife! Now hate me, sir, if ever I discern'd any wonder in
your wife yet, with all the speculation I have: I have seen some that have
been thought fairer than she, in my time; and I have seen those, have not
been altogether so tall, esteem'd properer women; and I have seen less
noses grow upon sweeter faces, that have done very well too, in my
judgment. But in good faith, signior, for all this, the gentlewoman is a
good, pretty, proud, hard-favour'd thing, marry not so peerlessly to be
doted upon, I must confess: nay, be not angry.
DELI. Well, sir, however you please to forget yourself, I have not
deserv'd to be thus played upon; but henceforth, pray you forbear my house,
for I can but faintly endure the savour of his breath, at my table, that
shall thus jade me for my courtesies.
MACI. Nay, then, signior, let me tell you, your wife is no proper woman,
and by my life, I suspect her honesty, that's more, which you may likewise
suspect, if you please, do you see? I'll urge you to nothing against your
appetite, but if you please, you may suspect it.
DELI. Good sir.
[EXIT.
MACI. Good, sir! now horn upon horn pursue thee, thou blind, egregious
dotard!
CAR. O, you shall hear him speak like envy. — Signior Macilente, you saw
monsieur Brisk lately: I heard you were with him at court.
MACI. Ay, Buffone, I was with him.
CAR. And how is he respected there? I know you'll deal ingenuously with
us; is he made much of amongst the sweeter sort of gallants?
MACI. Faith, ay; his civet and his casting-glass
Have helpt him to a place amongst the rest:
And there, his seniors give him good slight looks,
After their garb, smile, and salute in French
With some new compliment.
CAR. What, is this all?
MACI. Why say, that they should shew the frothy fool
Such grace as they pretend comes from the heart,
He had a mighty windfall out of doubt!
Why, all their graces are not to do grace
To virtue or desert; but to ride both
With their gilt spurs quite breathless, from themselves.
'Tis now esteem'd precisianism in wit,
And a disease in nature, to be kind
Toward desert, to love or seek good names.
Who feeds with a good name? who thrives with loving?
Who can provide feast for his own desires,
With serving others? — ha, ha, ha!
'Tis folly, by our wisest worldlings proved,
If not to gain by love, to be beloved.
CAR. How like you him? is't not a good spiteful slave, ha?
PUNT. Shrewd, shrewd.
CAR. D—n me! I could eat his flesh now; divine sweet villain!
MACI. Nay, prithee leave: What's he there?
CAR. Who? this in the starched beard? it's the dull stiff knight
Puntarvolo, man; he's to travel now presently: he has a good knotty wit;
marry, he carries little on't out of the land with him.
MACI. How then?
CAR. He puts it forth in venture, as he does his money upon the return of
a dog and cat.
MACI. Is this he?
CAR. Ay, this is he; a good tough gentleman: he looks like a shield of
brawn at Shrove-tide, out of date, and ready to take his leave; or a dry
pole of ling upon Easter-eve, that has furnish'd the table all Lent, as he
has done the city this last vacation.
MACI. Come, you'll never leave your stabbing similes: I shall have you
aiming at me with 'em by and by; but —
CAR. O, renounce me then! pure, honest, good devil, I love thee above the
love of women: I could e'en melt in admiration of thee, now. Ods so, look
here, man; Sir Dagonet and his squire!
ENTER SOGLIARDO AND SHIFT.
SOG. Save you, my dear gallantos: nay, come, approach, good cavalier:
prithee, sweet knight, know this gentleman, he's one that it pleases me to
use as my good friend and companion; and therefore do him good offices: I
beseech you, gentles, know him, I know him all over.
PUNT. Sir, for signior Sogliardo's sake, let it suffice, I know you.
SOG. Why, as I am a gentleman, I thank you, knight, and it shall suffice.
Hark you, sir Puntarvolo, you'd little think it; he's as resolute a piece
of flesh as any in the world.
PUNT. Indeed, sir!
SOG. Upon my gentility, sir: Carlo, a word with you; do you see that same
fellow, there?
CAR. What, cavalier Shirt?
SOG. O, you know him; cry you mercy: before me, I think him the tallest
man living within the walls of Europe.
CAR. The walls of Europe! take heed what you say, signior, Europe's a
huge thing within the walls.
SOG. 'Tut, an 'twere as huge again, I'd justify what I speak. 'Slid, he
swagger'd even now in a place where we were — I never saw a man do it more
resolute.
CAR. Nay, indeed, swaggering is a good argument of resolution. Do you
hear this, signior?
MACI. Ay, to my grief. O, that such muddy flags,
For every drunken flourish should achieve
The name of manhood, whilst true perfect valour,
Hating to shew itself, goes by despised!
Heart! I do know now, in a fair just cause,
I dare do more than he, a thousand times;
Why should not they take knowledge of this, ha!
And give my worth allowance before his?
Because I cannot swagger. — Now, the pox
Light on your Pickt-hatch prowess!
SOG. Why, I tell you, sir; he has been the only 'Bid-stand' that ever kept
New-market, Salisbury-plain, Hockley i' the Hole, Gadshill, and all the
high places of any request: he has had his mares and his geldings, he,
have been worth forty, threescore, a hundred pound a horse, would ha'
sprung you over the hedge and ditch like your greyhound: he has done five
hundred robberies in his time, more or less, I assure you.
PUNT. What, and scaped?
SOG. Scaped! i'faith, ay: he has broken the gaol when he has been in
irons and irons; and been out and in again; and out, and in; forty times,
and not so few, he.
MACI. A fit trumpet, to proclaim such a person.
CAR. But can this be possible?
SHIFT. Pardon me, my dear Orestes; causes have their quiddits, and 'tis
ill jesting with bell-ropes.
CAR. How! Pylades and Orestes?
SOG. Ay, he is my Pylades, and I am his Orestes: how like you the conceit?
CAR. O, 'tis an old stale interlude device; no, I'll give you names
myself, look you; he shall be your Judas, and you shall be his elder-tree
to hang on.
MACI. Nay, rather let him be captain Pod, and this his motion: for he
does nothing but shew him.
CAR. Excellent: or thus; you shall be Holden, and he your camel.
SHIFT. You do not mean to ride, gentlemen?
PUNT. Faith, let me end it for you, gallants: you shall be his
Countenance, and he your Resolution.
SOG. Troth, that's pretty: how say you, cavalier, shall it be so?
CAR. Ay, ay, most voices.
SHIFT. Faith, I am easily yielding to any good impressions.
SOG. Then give hands, good Resolution.
CAR. Mass, he cannot say, good Countenance, now, properly, to him again.
PUNT. Yes, by an irony.
MACI. O, sir, the countenance of Resolution should, as he is, be
altogether grim and unpleasant.
ENTER FASTIDIOUS BRISK.
FAST. Good hours make music with your mirth, gentlemen, and keep time to
your humours! — How now, Carlo?
PUNT. Monsieur Brisk? many a long look have I extended for you, sir.
FAST. Good faith, I must crave pardon: I was invited this morning, ere I
was out of my bed, by a bevy of ladies, to a banquet: whence it was almost
one of Hercules's labours for me to come away,
but that the respect of my promise did so prevail with me. I know they'll
take it very ill, especially one, that gave me this bracelet of her hair
but over night, and this pearl another gave me from her forehead, marry she
— what! are the writings ready?
PUNT. I will send my man to know. Sirrah, go you to the notary's, and
learn if he be ready: leave the dog, sir.
[EXIT SERVANT.
FAST. And how does my rare qualified friend, Sogliardo? Oh, signior
Macilente! by these eyes, I saw you not; I had saluted you sooner else, o'
my troth. I hope, sir, I may presume upon you, that you will not divulge
my late check, or disgrace, indeed, sir.
MACI. You may, sir.
CAR. He knows some notorious jest by this gull, that he hath him so
obsequious.
SOG. Monsieur Fastidious, do you see this fellow there? does he not look
like a clown? would you think there were any thing in him?
FAST. Any thing in him! beshrew me, ay; the fellow hath a good ingenious
face.
SOG. By this element he is as ingenious a tall man as ever swagger'd about
London: he, and I, call Countenance and Resolution; but his name is
cavalier Shift.
PUNT. Cavalier, you knew signior Clog, that was hang'd for the robbery at
Harrow on the hill?
SOG. Knew him, sir! why, 'twas he gave all the directions for the action.
PUNT. How! was it your project, sir?
SHIFT. Pardon me, Countenance, you do me some wrong to make occasions
public, which I imparted to you in private.
SOG. God's will! here are none but friends, Resolution.
SHIFT. That's all one; things of consequence must have their respects;
where, how, and to whom. — Yes, sir, he shewed himself a true Clog in the
coherence of that affair, sir; for, if he had managed matters as they were
corroborated to him, it had been better for him by a forty or fifty score
of pounds, sir; and he himself might have lived, in despight of fates, to
have fed on woodcocks, with the rest: but it was his heavy fortune to
sink, poor Clog! and therefore talk no more of him.
PUNT. Why, had he more aiders then?
SOG. O lord, sir! ay, there were some present there, that were the Nine
Worthies to him, i'faith.
SHIFT. Ay, sir, I can satisfy you at more convenient conference: but, for
mine own part, I have now reconciled myself to other courses, and profess a
living out of my other qualities.
SOG. Nay, he has left all now, I assure you, and is able to live like a
gentleman, by his qualities. By this dog, he has the most rare gift in
tobacco that ever you knew.
CAR. He keeps more ado with this monster, than ever Banks did with his
horse, or the fellow with the elephant.
MACI. He will hang out his picture shortly, in a cloth, you shall see.
SOG. O, he does manage a quarrel the best that ever you saw, for terms and
circumstances.
FAST. Good faith, signior, now you speak of a quarrel, I'll acquaint you
with a difference that happened between a gallant and myself; sir
Puntarvolo, you know him if I should name him signior Luculento.
PUNT. Luculento! what inauspicious chance interposed itself to your two
loves?
FAST. Faith, sir, the same that sundered Agamemnon and great Thetis' son;
but let the cause escape, sir: he sent me a challenge, mixt with some few
braves, which I restored, and in fine we met. Now, indeed, sir, I must
tell you, he did offer at first very desperately, but without judgment:
for, look you, sir, I cast myself into this figure; now he comes violently
on, and withal advancing his rapier to strike, I thought to have took his
arm, for he had left his whole body to my election, and I was sure he could
not recover his guard. Sir, I mist my purpose in his arm, rash'd his
doublet-sleeve, ran him close by the left cheek, and through his hair. He
again lights me here, — I had on a gold cable hatband, then new come up,
which I wore about a murey French hat I had, — cuts my hatband, and yet it
was massy goldsmith's work, cuts my brims, which by good fortune, being
thick embroidered with gold twist and spangles, disappointed the force of
the blow: nevertheless, it grazed on my shoulder, takes me away six purls
of an Italian cut-work band I wore, cost me three pound in the Exchange but
three days before.
PUNT. This was a strange encounter.
FAST. Nay, you shall hear, sir: with this we both fell out, and breath'd.
Now, upon the second sign of his assault, I betook me to the former manner
of my defence; he, on the other side, abandon'd his body to the same danger
as before, and follows me still with blows: but I being loth to take the
deadly advantage that lay before me of his left side, made a kind of
stramazoun, ran him up to the hilts through the doublet, through the shirt,
and yet miss'd the skin. He, making a reverse blow, — falls upon my
emboss'd girdle, I had thrown off the hangers a little before — strikes
off a skirt of a thick-laced satin doublet I had, lined with four taffatas,
cuts off two panes embroidered with pearl, rends through the drawings-out
of tissue, enters the linings, and skips the flesh.
CAR. I wonder he speaks not of his wrought shirt.
FAST. Here, in the opinion of mutual damage, we paused; but, ere I
proceed, I must tell you, signior, that, in this last encounter, not having
leisure to put off my silver spurs, one of the rowels catch'd hold of the
ruffle of my boot, and, being Spanish leather, and subject to tear,
overthrows me, rends me two pair of silk stockings, that I put on, being
somewhat a raw morning, a peach colour and another, and strikes me some
half inch deep into the side of the calf: he, seeing the blood come,
presently takes horse, and away: I, having bound up my wound with a piece
of my wrought shirt —
CAR. O! comes it in there?
FAST. Rid after him, and, lighting at the court gate both together,
embraced, and march'dhand in hand up into the presence. Was not this
business well carried?
MACI. Well! yes, and by this we can guess what apparel the gentleman wore.
PUNT. 'Fore valour, it was a designment begun with much resolution,
maintain'd with as much prowess, and ended with more humanity. —
RE-ENTER SERVANT.
How now, what says the notary?
SERV. He says, he is ready, sir; he stays but your worship's pleasure.
PUNT. Come, we will go to him, monsieur. Gentlemen, shall we entreat you
to be witnesses?
SOG. You shall entreat me, sir. — Come, Resolution.
SHIFT. I follow you, good Countenance.
CAR. Come, signior, come, come.
[EXEUNT ALL BUT MACILENTE.
MACI. O, that there should be fortune
To clothe these men, so naked in desert!
And that the just storm of a wretched life
Beats them not ragged for their wretched souls,
And, since as fruitless, even as black, as coals!
[EXIT.
MIT. Why, but signior, how comes it that Fungoso appeared not with his
sister's intelligence to Brisk?
COR. Marry, long of the evil angels that she gave him, who have indeed
tempted the good simple youth to follow the tail of the fashion, and
neglect the imposition of his friends. Behold, here he comes, very
worshipfully attended, and with good variety.

SCENE V. — A ROOM IN DELIRO'S HOUSE
ENTER FUNGOSO IN A NEW SUIT, FOLLOWED BY HIS TAILOR, SHOEMAKER, AND
HABERDASHER.
FUNG. Gramercy, good shoemaker, I'll put to strings myself..
[EXIT SHOEMAKER.] — Now, sir, let me see, what must you have for this hat?
HABE. Here's the bill, sir.
FUNG. How does it become me, well?
TAI. Excellent, sir, as ever you had any hat in your life.
FUNG. Nay, you'll say so all.
HABE. In faith, sir, the hat's as good as any man in this town can serve
you, and will maintain fashion as long; never trust me for a groat else.
FUNG. Does it apply well to my suit?
TAI. Exceeding well, sir.
FUNG. How lik'st thou my suit, haberdasher?
HABE. By my troth, sir, 'tis very rarely well made; I never saw a suit sit
better, I can tell on.
TAI. Nay, we have no art to please our friends, we!
FUNG. Here, haberdasher, tell this same.
[GIVES HIM MONEY.
HABE. Good faith, sir, it makes you have an excellent body.
FUNG. Nay, believe me, I think I have as good a body in clothes as another.
TAI. You lack points to bring your apparel together, sir.
FUNG. I'll have points anon. How now! Is't right?
HABE. Faith, sir, 'tis too little' but upon farther hopes — Good morrow
to you, sir.
[EXIT.
FUNG. Farewell, good haberdasher. Well now, master Snip, let me see your
bill.
MIT. Me thinks he discharges his followers too thick.
COR. O, therein he saucily imitates some great man. I warrant you, though
he turns off them, he keeps this tailor, in place of a page, to follow him
still.
FUNG. This bill is very reasonable, in faith: hark you, master Snip —
Troth, sir, I am not altogether so well furnished at this present, as I
could wish I were; but — if you'll do me the favour to take part in hand,
you shall have all I have, by this hand.
TAI. Sir —
FUNG. And but give me credit for the rest, till the beginning of the next
term.
TAI. O lord, sir —
FUNG. 'Fore God, and by this light, I'll pay you to the utmost, and
acknowledge myself very deeply engaged to you by the courtesy.
TAI. Why, how much have you there, sir?
FUNG. Marry, I have here four angels, and fifteen shillings of white
money: it's all I have, as I hope to be blest
TAI. You will not fail me at the next term with the rest?
FUNG. No, an I do, pray heaven I be hang'd. Let me never breathe again
upon this mortal stage, as the philosopher calls it! By this air, and as I
am a gentleman, I'll hold.
COR. He were an iron-hearted fellow, in my judgment, that would not credit
him upon this volley of oaths.
TAI. Well, sir, I'll not stick with any gentleman for a trifle: you know
what 'tis remains?
FUNG. Ay, sir, and I give you thanks in good faith. O fate, how happy I
am made in this good fortune! Well, now I'll go seek out monsieur Brisk.
'Ods so, I have forgot riband for my shoes, and points. 'Slid, what luck's
this! how shall I do? Master Snip, pray let me reduct some two or three
shillings for points and ribands: as I am an honest man, I have utterly
disfurnished myself, in the default of memory; pray let me be beholding to
you; it shall come home in the bill, believe me.
TAI. Faith, sir, I can hardly depart with ready money; but I'll take up,
and send you some by my boy presently. What coloured riband would you have?
FUNG. What you shall think meet in your judgment, sir, to my suit.
TAI. Well, I'll send you some presently.
FUNG. And points too, sir?
TAI. And points too, sir.
FUNG. Good lord, how shall I study to deserve this kindness of you sir!
Pray let your youth make haste, for I should have done a business an hour
since, that I doubt I shall come too late.
[EXIT TAILOR.]
Now, in good faith, I am exceeding proud of my suit.
COR. Do you observe the plunges that this poor gallant is put to, signior,
to purchase the fashion?
MIT. Ay, and to be still a fashion behind with the world, that's the sport.
COR. Stay: O, here they come from seal'd and deliver'd.

SCENE VI. — PUNTARVOLO'S LODGINGS.
ENTER PUNTARVOLO, FASTIDIOUS BRISK IN A NEW SUIT, AND SERVANTS WITH THE DOG.
PUNT. Well, now my whole venture is forth, I will resolve to depart shortly.
FAST. Faith, sir Puntarvolo, go to the court, and take leave of the ladies
first.
PUNT. I care not, if it be this afternoon's labour. Where is Carlo?
FAST. Here he comes.
ENTER CARLO, SOGLIARDO, SHIFT, AND MACILENTE.
CAR. Faith, gallants, I am persuading this gentleman [POINTS TO SOGLIARDO]
to turn courtier. He is a man of fair revenue, and his estate will bear
the charge well. Besides, for his other gifts of the mind, or so, why they
are as nature lent him them, pure, simple, without any artificial drug or
mixture of these two threadbare beggarly qualities, learning and knowledge,
and therefore the more accommodate and genuine. Now, for the life itself —
FAST. O, the most celestial, and full of wonder and delight, that can be
imagined, signior, beyond thought and apprehension of pleasure! A man
lives there in that divine rapture, that he will think himself i' the ninth
heaven for the time, and lose all sense of mortality whatsoever, when he
shall behold such glorious, and almost immortal beauties; hear such
angelical and harmonious voices, discourse with such flowing and ambrosial
spirits, whose wits are as sudden as lightning, and humorous as nectar; oh,
it makes a man all quintessence and flame, and lifts him up, in a moment,
to the very crystal crown of the sky, where, hovering in the strength of
his imagination, he shall behold all the delights of the Hesperides, the
Insulae Fortunatae, Adonis' Gardens, Tempe, or what else, confined within
the amplest verge of poesy, to be mere umbrae, and imperfect figures,
conferred with the most essential felicity of your court.
MACI. Well, this ecomium was not extemporal, it came too perfectly off.
CAR. Besides, sir, you shall never need to go to a hot-house, you shall
sweat there with courting your mistress, or losing your money at primero,
as well as in all the stoves in Sweden. Marry, this, sir, you must ever be
sure to carry a good strong perfume about you, that your mistress's dog may
smell you out amongst the rest; and, in making love to her, never fear to
be out; for you may have a pipe of tobacco, or a bass viol shall hang o'
the wall, of purpose, will put you in presently. The tricks your
Resolution has taught you in tobacco, the whiffe, and those sleights, will
stand you in very good ornament there.
FAST. Ay, to some, perhaps; but, an he should come to my mistress with
tobacco (this gentleman knows) she'd reply upon him, i'faith. O, by this
bright sun, she has the most acute, ready, and facetious wit that — tut,
there's no spirit able to stand her. You can report it, signior, you have
seen her.
PUNT. Then can he report no less, out of his judgment, I assure him.
MACI. Troth, I like her well enough, but she's too self-conceited, methinks.
FAST. Ay, indeed, she's a little too self-conceited; an 'twere not for
that humour, she were the most-to-be-admired lady in the world.
PUNT. Indeed, it is a humour that takes from her other excellences.
MACI. Why, it may easily be made to forsake her, in my thought.
FAST. Easily, sir! then are all impossibilities easy.
MACI. You conclude too quick upon me, signior. What will you say, if I
make it so perspicuously appear now, that yourself shall confess nothing
more possible?
FAST. Marry, I will say, I will both applaud and admire you for it.
PUNT. And I will second him in the admiration.
MACI. Why, I'll show you, gentlemen. — Carlo, come hither.
[MACI., CAR., PUNT., AND FAST. WHISPER TOGETHER.
SOG. Good faith, I have a great humour to the court. What thinks my
Resolution? shall I adventure?
SHIFT. Troth, Countenance, as you please; the place is a place of good
reputation and capacity.
SOG. O, my tricks in tobacco, as Carlo says, will show excellent there.
SHIFT. Why, you may go with these gentlemen now, and see fashions; and
after, as you shall see correspondence.
SOG. You say true. You will go with me, Resolution?
SHIFT. I will meet you, Countenance, about three or four o'clock; but, to
say to go with you, I cannot; for, as I am Apple-John, I am to go before
the cockatrice you saw this morning, and therefore pray, present me
excused, good Countenance.
SOG. Farewell, good Resolution, but fail not to meet.
SHIFT. As I live.
[EXIT.
PUNT. Admirably excellent!
MACI. If you can but persuade Sogliardo to court, there's all now.
CAR. O, let me alone, that's my task.
[GOES TO SOGLIARDO.
FAST. Now, by wit, Macilente, it's above measure excellent; 'twill be the
only court-exploit that ever proved courtier ingenious.
PUNT. Upon my soul, it puts the lady quite out of her humour, and we shall
laugh with judgment.
CAR. Come, the gentleman was of himself resolved to go with you, afore I
moved it.
MACI. Why, then, gallants, you two and Carlo go afore to prepare the jest;
Sogliardo and I will come some while after you.
CAR. Pardon me, I am not for the court.
PUNT. That's true; Carlo comes not at court, indeed. Well, you shall
leave it to the faculty of monsieur Brisk, and myself; upon our lives, we
will manage it happily. Carlo shall bespeak supper at the Mitre, against
we come back: where we will meet and dimple our cheeks with laughter at
the success.
CAR. Ay, but will you promise to come?
PUNT. Myself shall undertake for them; he that fails, let his reputation
lie under the lash of thy tongue.
CAR. Ods so, look who comes here!
ENTER FUNGOSO.
SOG. What, nephew!
FUNG. Uncle, God save you; did you see a gentleman, one monsieur Brisk, a
courtier? he goes in such a suit as I do.
SOG. Here is the gentleman, nephew, but not in such a suit.
FUNG. Another suit!
SOG. How now, nephew?
FAST. Would you speak with me, sir?
CAR. Ay, when he has recovered himself, poor Poll!
PUNT. Some rosa-solis.
MACI. How now, signior?
FUNG. I am not well, sir.
MACI. Why, this it is to dog the fashion.
CAR. Nay, come, gentlemen, remember your affairs; his disease is nothing
but the flux of apparel.
PUNT. Sirs, return to the lodging, keep the cat safe; I'll be the dog's
guardian myself.
[EXEUNT SERVANTS.
SOG. Nephew, will you go to court with us? these gentlemen and I are for
the court; nay, be not so melancholy.
FUNG. 'Slid, I think no man in Christendom has that rascally fortune that
I have.
MACI. Faith, you suit is well enough, signior.
FUNG. Nay, not for that, I protest; but I had an errand to monsieur
Fastidious, and I have forgot it.
MACI. Why, go along to court with us, and remember it; come, gentlemen,
you three take one boat, and Sogliardo and I will take another; we shall be
there instantly.
FAST. Content: good sir, vouchsafe us your pleasance.
PUNT. Farewell, Carlo: remember.
CAR. I warrant you: would I had one of Kemp's shoes to throw after you.
PUNT. Good fortune will close the eyes of our jest, fear not; and we shall
frolick.
[EXEUNT.
MIT. This Macilente, signior, begins to be more sociable on a sudden,
methinks, than he was before: there's some portent in it, I believe.
COR. O, he's a fellow of a strange nature. Now does he, in this calm of
his humour, plot, and store up a world of malicious thoughts in his brain,
till he is so full with them, that you shall see the very torrent of his
envy break forth like a land-flood: and, against the course of all their
affections, oppose itself so violently, that you will almost have wonder to
think, how 'tis possible the current of their dispositions shall receive so
quick and strong an alteration.
MIT. Ay, marry, sir, this is that, on which my expectation has dwelt all
this while; for I must tell you, signior, though I was loth to interrupt
the scene, yet I made it a question in mine own private discourse, how he
should properly call it "Every Man out of his Humour", when I saw all his
actors so strongly pursue, and continue their humours?
COR. Why, therein his art appears most full of lustre, and approacheth
nearest the life; especially when in the flame and height of their humours,
they are laid flat, it fills the eye better, and with more contentment.
How tedious a sight were it to behold a proud exalted tree kept and cut
down by degrees, when it might be fell'd in a moment! and to set the axe
to it before it came to that pride and fulness, were, as not to have it
grow.
MIT. Well, I shall long till I see this fall, you talk of.
COR. To help your longing, signior, let your imagination be swifter than a
pair of oars: and by this, suppose Puntarvolo, Brisk, Fungoso, and the
dog, arrived at the court-gate, and going up to the great chamber.
Macilente and Sogliardo, we'll leave them on the water, till possibility
and natural means may land them. Here come the gallants, now prepare your
expectations.

[ [!-- H2 anchor --] ]