Part 21

_Sil._ 'Twas want of knowledge, Sir, not duty, bred this, I would have made Suit else for your Lordships service.

_Soto._ In some sort I am satisfied now, mend your manners, But thou art a melancholy fellow, vengeance melancholy, And that may breed an insurrection amongst us; Go too, I'll lay the best part of two pots now Thou art in love, and I can guess with whom too, I saw the wench that twir'd and twinkled at thee, The other day; the wench that's new come hither, The young smug wench.

_Sil._ You know more than I feel Sir.

_Soto._ Go too, I'll be thy friend, I'll speak a good word for thee, And thou shalt have my Lordships countenance to her; May be I have had a snap my self, may be I, may be no, We Lords are allow'd a little more.

_Sil._ 'Tis fit, Sir; I humbly thank ye, you are too too tender of me, But what Sir, I beseech ye, was that paper, Your Lordship was so studiously imployed in, When ye came out a-doors?

_Soto._ Thou meanest this paper.

_Sil._ That Sir, I think.

_Soto._ Why, 'tis a Proclamation, A notable piece of villany, as ever thou heard'st in thy life, By mine honor it is.

_Sil._ How Sir? or what concerns it?

_Soto._ It comes ye from the Dutchess, a plaguy wise woman, To apprehend the body of one _Silvio_, As arrant a Rascal as ever pist against a post, And this same _Silvio_, or this foresaid rascal, To bring before her, live or dead; for which good service The man that brings him, has two thousand Duckets; Is not this notable matter now?

_Sil._ 'Tis so indeed, This Proclamation bears my bane about it; Can no rest find me? no private place secure me? But still my miseries like blood-hounds haunt me? Unfortunate young man, which way now guides thee, Guides thee from death? the Countrey's laid round for thee; Oh _Claudio_, now I feel thy blood upon me, Now it speaks loudly here, I am sure against me, Time now has found it out, and truth proclaim'd it, And Justice now cries out, I must die for it.

_Soto._ Hast thou read it?

_Sil._ Yes.

_Soto._ And dost thou know that _Silvio_.

_Sil._ I never saw him, Sir.

_Soto._ I have, and know him too, I know him as well as I know thee, and better, And if I light upon him, for a trick he plaid me once, A certain kind of dog-trick, I'll so fiddle him, Two thousand Duckets, I'll so pepper him, And with that money I'll turn Gentleman, Worth a brown Baker's dozen of such _Silvios_.

_Sil._ There is no staying here, this rogue will know me, And for the money sake betray me too; I must bethink me suddenly and safely.

_Enter Morris-dancers._

_Soto._ Mine own dear Lady, have-at-thy honey-comb, Now, for the honor of our Town, Boyes, trace sweetly.

[_Cry within of, Arm, Arm._

Wh[at] a vengeance ails this whobub: pox refuse 'em, Cannot they let us dance in our own defence here?

_Enter Farmer and Captain._

_Capt._ Arm, honest friends, arm suddenly and bravely, And with your antient resolutions follow me; Look how the Beacons show like Comets, your poor neighbors Run maddingly affrighted through the Villages; _Syenna's_ Duke is up, burns all before him, And with his sword, makes thousand mothers childless.

_Soto._ What's this to our Morris-dancers?

_Sil._ This may serve my turn.

_Soto._ There's ne'r a Duke in _Christendom_ but loves a May-game.

_Capt._ At a horse you were always ceaz'd, put your Son on him, And arm him well i' th' States name, I command ye; And they that dare go voluntary, shall receive reward.

_Soto._ I dare go no way, Sir, this is strange, Master Captain, You cannot be content to spoil our sport here, Which I do not think your Worship's able to answer, But you must set us together by the ears with I know not who too? We are for the bodily part o' th' dance.

_Cap._ Arm him suddainly, This is no time to fool, I shall return ye else, A rebel to the General, State, and Duchess, And how you'll answer then--

_Far._ I have no more Sons, Sir, This is my only boy; I beseech ye Master Captain.

_Soto._ I am a rank coward too, to say the truth, Sir, I never had good luck at buffets neither.

_Far._ Here's vorty shillings, spare the child.

_Cap._ I cannot.

_Soto._ Are ye a man? will ye cast away a _May_-Lord? Shall all the wenches in the Countrey curse ye?

_Sil._ An't please you Captain, I'll supply his person, 'Tis pity their old custom should be frighted, Let me have Horse, and good Arms, I'll serve willingly, And if I shrink a foot of ground, Hell take me.

_Cap._ A promising Aspect, face full of courage, I'll take this man, and thank ye too.

_Far._ There's for thee, 'Tis in a clout, but good old Gold.

_Sil._ I thank ye Sir.

_Far._ Goe saddle my fore-horse, put his feather on too, He'll praunce it bravely, friend, he fears no Colours, And take the Armor down, and see him dizin'd.

_Soto._ Farewel, and if thou cary'st thy self well in this matter, I say no more, but this, there must be more _May_-Lords, And I know who are fit.

_Sil._ Dance you, I'll fight, Sir.

_Cap._ Away, away.

_Sil._ Farewel, I am for the Captain. [_Exit._

_Far._ Now to this matter again my honest fellows, For if this goe not forward, I foresee friends, This war will fright our neighbors out o' th' villages; Cheer up your hearts, we shall hear better news, boys.

_Hob._ Surely I will dance no more, 'tis most ridiculous, I find my wives instructions now mere verities, My learned wives, she often hath pronounc'd to me My safety _Bomby_, defie these sports, thou art damn'd else, This Beast of _Babylon_, I will never back again, His pace is sure prophane, and his lewd Wi-hees, The Sons of _Hymyn_ and _Gymyn_, in the wilderness.

_Far._ Fie neighbor _Bomby_, in your fits again, Your zeal sweats, this is not careful, neighbor, The Hobby-horse, is a seemly Hobby-horse.

_Soto._ And as pretty a beast on's inches, though I say it.

_Hob._ The Beast is an unseemly, and a lewd Beast, And got at _Rome_ by the Popes Coach-Horses, His mother was the Mare of ignorance.

_Soto._ Cobler thou ly'st, and thou wert a thousand Coblers. His mother was an honest Mare, and a Mare of good credit, I know the Mare, and if need be, can bring witness; And in the way of honesty I tell thee, Scorn'd any Coach-Horse the Pope had: thou art foolish, And thy blind zeal makes thee abuse the Beast.

_Hob._ I do defie thee, and thy foot-cloth too, And tell thee to thy face, this prophane riding I feel it in my conscience, and I dare speak it, This un-edified ambling, hath brought a scourge upon us, This Hobby-horse sincerity we liv'd in War, and the sword of slaughter: I renounce it, And put the beast off; thus, the beast polluted, And now no more shall hop on high _Bomby_, Follow the painted pipes of high pleasures, And with the wicked, dance the devils measures; Away thou pamper'd jade of vanity, Stand at the Livery of lewd delights now, And eat the provinder of prick-ear'd folly, My dance shall be to the pipe of persecution.

_Far._ Will you daunce no more neighbor?

_Hob._ Surely no, Carry the Beast to his Crib: I have renounc'd him And all his works.

_Soto._ Shall the Hobby-horse be forgot then? The hopeful Hobby-horse, shall he lye founder'd? If thou do'st this, thou art but a cast-away Cobler: My anger's up, think wisely, and think quickly, And look upon the _quondam_ beast of pleasure, If thou dost this (mark me, thou serious Sowter) Thou Bench-whistler of the old tribe of toe-pieces, If thou dost this, there shall be no more shooe-mending, Every man shall have a special care of his own soul: And in his pocket carry his two Confessors, His Yugel, and his Nawl: if thou dost this--

_Far._ He will dance again for certain.

_Hob._ I cry out on't, 'Twas the fore-running sin brought in those Tilt-staves, They brandish 'gainst the Church, the devil calls _May_-poles.

_Soto._ Take up your Horse again, and girth him to ye, And girth him handsomely, good neighbor _Bomby_.

_Hob._ I spit at him.

_Soto._ Spit in the Horse face, Cobler? Thou out of tune, _Psalm_-singing slave; spit in his visnomy?

_Hob._ I spit again, and thus I rise against him: Against this Beast: that signify'd destruction. Fore-shew'd i'th' falls of Monarchies.

_Soto._ I'th' face of him? Spit such another spit by this hand Cobler I'll make ye set a new piece o' your nose there, Tak't up I say, and dance without more bidding, And dance as you were wont: you have been excellent And art still, but for this new nicity, And your wives learned Lectures: take up the Hobby-horse Come, 'tis a thing thou hast lov'd with all thy heart _Bomby_, And would'st do still but for the round-breech'd brothers: You were not thus in the morning: tak't up I say, Do not delay but do it: you know I am officer; And I know 'tis unfit all these good fellows Should wait the cooling of your zealous porridge; Chuse whether you will dance, or have me execute: I'll clap your neck i' th' stocks, and th[e]re I'll make ye Dance a whole day, and dance with these at night too, You mend old shooes well, mend your old manners better, And suddenly see you leave off this sincereness. This new hot Batch, borrowed from some brown Baker, Some learned brother, or I'll so bait ye for't, Take it quickly up.

_Hob._ I take my persecution, And thus I am forc'd a by-word to my brethren.

_Soto._ Strike up, strike up: strike merrily.

_Far._ To it roundly, Now to the harvest feast: then sport again boyes. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Silvio, _arm'd_.

_Sil._ What shall I do? live thus unknown, and base still? Or thrust my self into the head o' th' Battel? And there like that I am, a Gentleman, And one that never fear'd the face of danger, (So in her angry eyes s[h]e carried honor) Fight nobly, and (to end my cares) die nobly?

Song within.

Silvio _go on, and raise thy noble mind_ _To noble ends; fling course base thoughts behind_: Silvio, _thou Son of everliving fame,_ _Now aim at virtue, and a Noble Name_. Silvio _consider, Honor is not won,_ _Nor virtue reach'd, till some brave thing be done_: _Thy Countrey calls thee now; she burns, and bleeds,_ _Now raise thy self, young man, to noble deeds._ _Into the battel_ Silvio, _there seek forth_ _Danger, and blood, by them stands sacred worth._

What heavenly voice is this that follows me? This is the second time 't has waited on me, Since I was arm'd, and ready for the battel; It names me often, steels my heart with courage.

_Enter_ Belvidere _deformed_.

And in a thousand sweet notes comforts me; What Beldam's this? how old she is, and ugly, Why does she follow me?

_Bel._ Be not dismaid Son, I wait upon thee for thy good, and honor, 'Twas I that now sung to thee, stirr'd thy mind up, And rais'd thy spirits to the pitch of nobleness.

_Sil._ Though she be old, and of a crooked carkass, Her voice is like the harmony of Angels.

_Bel._ Thou art my darling, all my love dwels on thee The Son of virtue, therefore I attend thee; Enquire not what I am, I come to serve thee, For if thou be'st inquisitive, thou hast lost me: A thousand long miles hence my dwelling is, Deep in a Cave, where but mine own, no foot treads, There by mine Art, I found what danger (_Silvio_) And deep distress of heart, thou wert grown into, A thousand Leagues I have cut through empty air, Far swifter than the sayling rack that gallops Upon the wings of angry winds, to seek thee. Sometimes o'er a swelling tide, on a Dolphins back I ride, Sometimes pass the earth below, and through the unmoved Center go; Sometimes in a flame of fire, like a Meteor I aspire, Sometimes in mine own shape, thus, when I help the virtuous, Men of honourable minds, command my Art in all his kinds; Pursue the noble thought of War, from thy Guard I'll not be far, Get thee worship on thy foe, lasting Fame is gotten so. Single _Syennas_ Duke alone, hear thy friends, thy Countrey groan, And with thy manly arm strike sure, then thou hast wrought thine own free cure.

_Sil._ Some _Sybel_ sure, some soul heaven loves, and favours. And lends her their free powers, to work their wonders? How she incites my courage!

_Bel. Sylvio_, I knew thee many daies ago, Foresaw thy love to _Belvidere_, the Dutchess daughter, and her Heir; Knew she lov'd thee, and know what past; when you were found i' th' Castle fast In one anothers arms; forsaw the taking of ye and the Law And so thy innocence I loved, the deepest of my skill I proved; Be rul'd by me, for to this hour, I have dwelt about thee with my power.

_Sil._ I will, and in the course of all observe thee, For thou art sure an Angel [good] sent to me.

_Bel._ Get thee gone then to the fight, longer stay but robs thy right; When thou grow'st weary I'll be near, then think on beauteous _Belvidere_, For every precious thought of her, I'll lend thine honor a new spurre; When all is done, meet here at night; Go and be happy in the fight.

[_Exit._

_Sil._ I certainly believe I shall do nobly, And that I'll bravely reach at too, or die. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Claudio, _and_ Penurio.

_Cla._ Is she so loving still?

_Pen._ She is mad with Love, As mad as ever unworm'd dog was, Signior, And does so weep, and curse, for your prevention, Your crosses in your love; it frets me too, I am fall'n away to nothing, to a spindle, Grown a meer man of mat, no soul within me, Pox o' my Master, Sir, will that content ye?

_Cla._ This rogue but cozens me, and she neglects me, Upon my life there are some other gamesters, Nearer the wind than I, and that prevents me, Is there no other holds acquaintance with her? Prethee be true, be honest, do not mock me, Thou knowest her heart, no former interest She has vow'd a favour too? and cannot handsomely Go off, but by regaining such a friendship? There are a thousand handsome men, young, wealthy, That will not stick at any rate, nor danger, To gain so sweet a prize; nor can I blame her, If where she finds a comfort, she deal cunningly, I am a stranger yet.

_Pen._ Ye are all she looks for, And if there be any other, she neglects all, And all for you: I would you saw how grievously And with what hourly lamentations.

_Cla._ I know thou flatter'st me; tell me but truth, Look here, look well, the best meat in the Dukedom, The rarest, and the choicest of all Diets, Th[is] will I give thee, but to satisfie me; That is, not to dissemble; this rare Lobster, This Pheasant of the Sea, this dish for Princes, And all this thou shalt enjoy, eat all thy self, Have good _Greek_ Wine, or any thing belongs to it, A wench, if it desire one.

_Pen._ All this, Signior?

_Cla._ All, and a greater far than this.

_Pen._ A greater?

_Cla._ If thou deserve by telling truth.

_Pen._ A wench too?

_Cla._ Or any thing, but if you play the knave now, The cozening knave, besides the loss of this, In which thou hast parted with a paradise, I ne'er will give thee meat more, not a morsel, No smell of meat by my means shall come near thee, Nor name of any thing that's nourishing, But to thy old part _Tantalus_ again, Thou shalt return, and there snap at a shadow.

_Pen._ Upon this point, had I intended Treason, Or any thing might call my life in question, Follow'd with all the tortures time could think on, Give me but time to eat this lovely Lobster, This Alderman o'th' Sea, and give me Wine to him, I would reveal all, and if that all were too little, More than I knew; _Bartello_ holds in with her, The Captain of the Cittadel, but you need not fear him, His tongue's the stiffest weapon that he carries. He is old, and out of use; there are some other, Men, young enough, handsome, and bold enough, Could they come but to make their game once, but they want Sir, They want the _unde quare_, they are laid by then.

_Enter_ Bartello.

You only are the man shall knock the nail in--

_Bar._ How now _Penurio_?

_Pen._ Your worship's fairly met, Sir. You shall hear further from me, steal aside, Sir.

_Cla._ Remember your Master for those Chains.

_Pen._ They are ready, Sir.

_Bart._ What young thing's this? by his habit he's a Merchant; I fear he trades my way too, you dryed dog-fish, What bait was that?

_Pen._ Who Sir, the thing went hence now? A notable young whelp.

_Bart._ To what end sirrah?

_Pen._ Came to buy Chains and Rings, is to be married, An Asse, a Coxcomb, h'as nothing in's house Sir; I warrant you think he came to see my Mistriss?

_Bart._ I doubt it shrewdly.

_Pen._ Away, away 'tis foolish; He has not the face to look upon a Gentlewoman, A poor skim'd thing, his Mothers maids are fain, Sir To teach him how to kiss, and against he is married, To shew him on which side the stirrop stands.

_Bart._ That's a fine youth.

_Pen._ Thou wouldst hang thy self, that thou hadst half his power, Thou empty Potgun.

_Bart._ Am I come fit _Penurio_?

_Pen._ As fit as a fiddle, My Master's now abroad about his business.

_Bart._ When thou cam'st to me home to day, I half suspected My wife was jealous, that she whispered to thee.

_Pen._ You deserve well the whilst, there's no such matter, She talk'd about some toyes my Master must bring to her, You must not know of.

_Bart._ I'll take no noat _Penurio_.

_Pen._ No, nor you shall not, till yo[u] have it soundly. This is the bravest _Capitano Pompo_.

_Enter_ Isabella.

But I shall pump ye anon, Sir.

_Isab._ Oh my _Bartello_.

_Bart._ Ye pretty Rogue; you little Rogue, you sweet Rogue, Away _Penurio_, go and walk i'th' Horse-Fair.

_Isab._ You do not love me?

_Bart._ Thou liest, thou little rascal; There sirrah, to your Centry.

_Pen._ How the Colt itches. I'll help ye to a Curry-comb shall claw ye. [_Exit._

_Isab._ And how much dost thou love me?

_Bart._ Let's go in quickly, I'll tell thee presently, I'll measure it to thee.

_Isab._ No busses first? sit o' my knee, my brave boy, My valiant boy; do not look so fiercely on me, Thou wilt fright me with thy face; come buss again Chick, Smile in my face you mad thing.

_Bart._ I am mad indeed wench, Precious, I am all o' fire.

_Isab._ I'll warm thee better.

_Bar._ I'll warm thee too, or I'll blow out my bellows; Ha, ye sweet rogue, you loving rogue, a boy now, A Soldier I will get shall prove a fellow.

_Enter_ Jaquenet _and_ Penurio.

_Jaq._ Mistriss, look to your self, my Master's coming.

_Bar._ The devil come, and go with him.

_Pen._ The devil's come indeed, he brings your wife, Sir.

_Isab._ We are undone, undone then.

_Bar._ My wife with him? Why this is a dismal day.

_Pen._ They are hard by too, Sir.

_Bar._ I must not, dare not see her.

_Isab._ Nor my Husband, For twenty thousand pound.

_Bar._ That I were a Cat now, Or any thing could run into a Bench-hole, Saint _Anthonies_ Fire upon the rogue has brought her; Where shall I be? just i'th' nick o'th' matter! When I had her at my mercy! think for heaven sake, My wife, all the wild furies hell has.

_Pen._ Up the Chimney.

_Bar._ They'll smoke me out there presently.

_Isab._ There, there, it must be there, We are all undone else: it must be up the Chimney.

_Bar._ Give me a Ladder.

_Isab._ You must use your Art, Sir, Alas, we have no Ladders.

_Bar._ Pox o'thy Husband, Does he never mend his house?

_Pen._ No, nor himself neither: Up nimbly, Sir, up nimbly.

_Bar._ Thou know'st I am fat, Thou merciless lean rogue.

_Pen._ Will ye be kill'd? For if he take ye--

_Bar._ Lend me thy shoulder.

_Pen._ Soft, Sir, You'll tread my shoulder-bones into my sides else, Have ye fast hold o'th' barrs?

_Bar._ A vengeance barr 'em.

_Isab._ Patience good Captain, Patience: quickly, quickly.

_Bar._ Do you think I am made of smoke?

_Pen._ Now he talks of smoke, What if my Master should call for fire?

_Bar._ Will ye Martyr me?

_Isab._ He must needs have it.

_Bar._ Will ye make me Bacon?

_Isab._ We'll do the best we can, are all things ready?

_Pen._ All, all, I have 'em all.

[_Isab._] Go let 'em in then, Not a word now on your life.

_Bar._ I hang like a Meteor.

_Enter_ Lopez _and_ Rhodope.

_Lop._ You are welcome Lady.

_Rho._ You are too too courteous, But I shall make amends, fair _Isabella_.

_Isab._ Welcome my worthy friend, most kindly welcome.

_Rho._ I hear on't, and I'll fit him for his foolery.

_Lop._ Some Sweet meats wife: some Sweet meats presently.

_Bart._ Oh my sowre sauce.

_Lop._ Away quick _Isabella_. [_Exit_ Isab. Did you hear him?

_Rho._ Yes, yes, perfectly, proceed, Sir.

_Lop._ Speak loud enough: Dare ye at length but pity me?

_Rho._ 'Faith Sir, you have us'd so many reasons to me, And those so powerfully--

_Lop._ Keep this kiss for me.

_Bar._ And do I stand and hear this?

_Rho._ This for me, Sir, This is some comfort now: Alas my Husband-- But why do I think of so poor a fellow, So wretched, so debauch'd?

_Bar._ That's I, I am bound to hear it.

_Rho._ I dare not lye with him, he is so rank a Whoremaster.

_Lop._ And that's a dangerous point.

_Rho._ Upon my conscience, Sir, He would stick a thousand base diseases on me.

_Bar._ And now must I say nothing.

_Lop._ I am sound Lady.

_Rho._ That's it that makes me love ye.

_Lop._ Let's kiss again then.

_Rho._ Do, do.

_Bar._ Do, the Devil And the grand Pox do with ye.

_Lop._ Do ye hear him? well--

_Enter_ Penurio _and_ Isabella.

Now, what's the news with you?

_Pen._ The sound of War, Sir, Comes still along: The Duke will charge the City, We have lost they say.

_Lop._ What shall become of me then, And my poor wealth?

_Bar._ Even hang'd, I hope.

_Rho._ Remove your Jewels presently, And what you have of wealth into the Cittadel, There all's secure.

_Lop._ I humbly thank ye Lady: _Penurio_, get me some can climb the Chimney, For there my Jewels are, my best, my richest, I hid 'em, fearing such a blow.

_Pen._ Most happily: I have two boys that use to sweep foul Chimneys, Truly I brought 'em, Sir, to mock your worship, For the great Fires ye keep, and the full Diet.

_Lop._ I forgive thee knave, where are they?

_Pen._ Here Sir, here: Monsieur _Black_, will your small worship mount?

_Enter two Boys._

_1 Boy._ Madam è be com to creep up into your Chimney, and make you

[_Boy sings._

Cleane, as any Lady in de world: Ma litla, litla frera, and è, Chanta, frere, chanta.

_Pen._ Come Monsieur, mountè, mountè, mount Monsieur Mustard-pot.

[_Boy sings._

_1 Boy._ Monsieur è have dis for votra barba, ple ta vou Monsieur.

_Pen._ Mountà Monsieur, mountà dere be some fine tings.

_1 Boy._ [M]e will creep like de Ferret Monsieur.

_Pen._ Dere in the Chimney. [_The Boy above singing._

_1 Boy._ He be de sheilde due shauson, Madam.

[_Boy goes in behind the Arras._

_Pen._ There's a Bird's nest, I wou'd have ye climb it Monsieur, Up my fine singing Monsieur: that's a fine Monsieur.

_Lop._ Watch him, he do not steal.

_Pen._ I warrant ye Sir.