SCENE III.

_To him_ MEANWELL, ANDREW.

AND. God save you, tutors both!

MEAN. Fie, Andrew, fie! What, kiss your hand! You smell not compliment.

HEAR. Besides you come too near, when you salute. Your breath may be discover'd; and you give Advantage unto him you thus accost To shake you by the hand: which often doth Endanger the whole arm. Your gallant's, like The crystal glass, brittle; rude handling cracks him. To be saluted so were to be wounded: His parts would fall asunder like unto Spill'd quicksilver. An ear, an eye, a nose, Would drop, like summer fruit from shaken trees.

MEAN. For the same reason, I'd not have you dance. Some courtiers, I confess, do use it; but They are the sounder sort; those foolish ones That have a care of health, which you shall not, If you'll be rul'd by me. The hazard's great: 'Tis an adventure, an exploit, no[123] piece Of service for a gentleman, to caper.

HEAR. A gallant's like a leg of mutton boil'd By a Spanish cook: take him but by the one end, And shake him, all the flesh falls from the bones, And leaves them bare immediately.

AND. I would Not be a leg of mutton here.

HEAR. I saw In France a monsieur, only in the cutting Of one cross caper, rise a man, and come Down, to th' amazement of the standers-by, A true extemporary skeleton; And was straight read on.[124]

AND. Sure, this man, Good tutor, was quite rotten.

MEAN. See how you Betray your breeding now. Quite rotten! 'Tis Rottenness, perhaps, in footmen or in yeomen:

'Tis tenderness in gentlemen; they are A little over-boil'd, or so.

HEAR. He is A churl, a hind, that's wholesome; some raw thing That never was at London: one in whom The clown is too predominant. Refin'd People feel Naples in their bodies; and An ache i' th' bones at sixteen passeth now For high descent: it argues a great birth. Low bloods are never worthy such infection.

AND. Ay, but my father bid me I should live Honest, and say my prayers; that he did.

HEAR. If that you cannot sleep at any time, we do Allow you to begin your pray'rs, that so A slumber may seize on you.

MEAN. But as for Your living honest, 'twere to take away A trade i' th' commonwealth! the surgeons' Benefit would go down. You may go on In foolish chastity, eat only salads, Walk an unskilful thing, and be to learn Something the first night of your wife; but that's To marry out of fashion.

AND. Here's no proofs, No doctrines, nor no uses. Tutor, I Would fain learn some religion.

HEAR. Religion! Yes, to become a martyr, and be pictur'd With a long label out o' your mouth, like those In Fox's book;[125] just like a juggler drawing Riband out of his throat.

AND. I must be gone.

MEAN. Obedience is the first step unto science: Stay, and be wise.

AND. Indeed, I dare not stay; The clyster works you sent to purge gross humours. [_Exit._

MEAN. Being you will not take your lecture out, Good-morrow to y', good Andrew. This soft fool Must swim in's father's wealth! It is a curse That fortune justly makes the city's lot; The young fool spends whate'er the old knave got. [_Exit_ MEANWELL.