Part 15

_Host._ Come Gentlemen, This is the day that our great artist hath Promis'd to give all your severall suits satisfaction.

_Dancer._ Is he stirring?

_Host._ He hath been at his book these t[w]o hours.

_Pedant._ He's a rare Physitian.

_Host._ Why I'll tell you, Were _Paracelsus_ the German now Living, he'd take up his single rapier against his Terrible long sword, he makes it a matter of nothing To cure the gout, sore eyes he takes out as familiarly, Washes them, and puts them in again, As you'd blanch almonds.

_Tay._ They say he can make gold.

_Host._ I, I, he learnt it of Kelly in Germanny. There's not a Chymist In christendome can goe beyond him for multiplying.

_Pedant._ Take heed then; He get not up your daughters belly my Host.

_Host._ You are a merry Gentleman And the man of art will love you the better.

_Dancer._ Does he love mirth and crotchets?

_Host._ O he's the most courteous Physitian, You may drink or drab in's company freely, The better he knows how your disease grows, The better he knows how to cure it.

_Danc._ But I wonder my Host He has no more resort of Ladyes to him.

_Host._ Why Sir?

_Dan._ O divers of them have great beleif in conjurers: Lechery is a great help to the quality.

_Host._ He's scarce known to be in town yet, Ere long we shall have 'em come Hurrying hither in Fetherbeds.

_Dan._ How? bedridden?

_Host._ No sir, in fetherbeds that move upon 4 wheels in Spanish caroches.

_Ped._ Pray accquaint him we give attendance.

_Host._ I shall gentlemen; I would fain be rid Of these rascalls, but that they raise profit To my wine cellar. When I have made use of them sufficiently, I will intreat the conjurer to tye crackers to their tails, And send them packing.

_Enter Forobosco as in his Study._ (A paper)

_Foro._ Come hither mine Host, look here.

_Host._ What's that?

_Foro._ A challenge from my man.

_Host._ For breaking's pate?

_Foro._ He writes here if I meet him not I'th' Feild within this half hour, I shall hear more from him.

_Host._ O sir, minde your profit, Ne'er think of the rascall, here are the gentlemen.

_Foro._ 'Morrow my worthy clients, What are you all prepar'd of your questions; That I may give my resolution upon them?

_Omnes._ We are Sir.

_Pedant._ And have brought our mony.

_Foro._ Each then in order, And differ not for precedency.

_Dan._ I am buying of an office Sir, And to that purpose I would fain learn To dissemble cunningly.

_Foro._ Doe you come to me for that? you should rather Have gone to a cunning woman.

_Danc._ I sir but their Instructions are but like wom[e]n, Pretty well but not to the depth, as I'd have it: You are a conjurer, the devils Master, And I would learn it from you so exactly.

_Foro._ That the devill himself Might not go beyond you.

_Dane._ You are i'th' right Sir.

_Foro._ And so your mony for your purchase Might come in again within a 12 month.

_Danc._ I would be a Graduate sir, no freshman.

_F[e]ro._ Here's my hand sir, I will make you dissemble so methodically, As if the divell should be sent from the great Turk, In the shape of an Embassador To set all the Christian princes at variance.

_Danc._ I cannot with any modesty desire any more. There's your mony sir.

_Foro._ For the art of dissembling.

_Cox._ My suit sir will be news to you when I tell it.

_Foro._ Pray on.

_Cox._ I would set up a press here in Italy, To write all the Corantos for Christendome.

_Foro._ That's news indeed, And how would you imploy me in't?

_Cox._ Marry sir, from you I would gain my intelligence.

_Foro._ I conceive you, you would have me furnish you With a spirit to informe you.

_Cox._ But as quiet a Divell as the woman, The first day and a half after she's married, I can by no means indure a terrible one.

_Foro._ No, no, I'll qualifie him, He shall not fright you, It shall be the ghost of some lying Stationer, A Spirit shall look as if butter would not melt in his mouth. A new _Mercurius Gallo-belgicus_.

_Cox._ O there was a captain was rare at it.

_Foro._ Ne'er thinke of him, Though that captain writ a full hand gallop, And wasted indeed more harmeless paper than Ever did laxative Physick, Yet will I make you to out-scribble him, And set down what you please, The world shall better believe you.

_Cox._ Worthy sir I thank you, there's mony.

_Foro._ A new office For writing pragmaticall Curranto's.

_Pedant._ I am a school-master sir, And would fain conferre with you About erecting 4 new sects of religion at _Amsterdam_.

_Foro._ What the Divell should New sects of religion doe there?

_Pedant._ I assure you I would get A great deal of money by it.

_Foro._ And what are the 4 new sects Of religion you would plant there?

_Ped._ Why that's it I come about sir, 'Tis a Divel of your raising must invent 'em, I confess I am too weak to compass it.

_Foro._ So sir, then you make it a matter of no difficulty To have them tolerated.

_Pedant._ Trouble not your self for that, Let but your Divel set them a foot once. I have Weavers, and Ginger-bread makers, And mighty _Aquavitæ-men_, shall set them a going.

_Foro._ This is somewhat difficult, And will aske some conference with the divell.

_Ped._ Take your own leasure sir, I have another business too, because I mean To leave _Italy_, and bury my self in those neather parts Of the low countries.

_Foro._ What's that sir.

_Ped._ Marry I would fain make 9 dayes to the week, for the more ample benefit of the captain.

_Foro._ You have a shrewd pate sir.

_Ped._ But how this might be compass'd?

_Foro._ Compass'd easily; tis but making A new Almanack, and dividing the compass Of the year into larger penny-worths, As a Chandler with his compass makes A Geometrick proportion of the _Holland_ cheese He retailes by stivers. But for getting of it licenc'd?

_Ped._ Trouble not your self with that sir, There's your mony.

_Foro._ For four new sects of religions, And 9 dayes to the week.

_Ped._ To be brought in at general pay-dayes, Write I beseech you.

_Foro._ At generall pay-dayes.

_Taylor._ I am by profession a Taylor, You have heard of me.

_Foro._ Yes sir, and will not steal from you The least part of that commendation I have heard utter'd.

_Taylor._ I take measure of your worth sir, And because I will not afflict you with any large bill Of circumstances, I will snip off particulars. I would fain invent some strange And exquisite new fashions.

_Foro._ Are you not travel'd sir.

_Tay._ Yes sir, but have observ'd all we can see Or invent, are but old ones with new names to'em, Now I would some way or other grow more curious.

_Foro._ Let me see; to devise new fashions-- Were you never in the Moon?

_Tay._ In the Moon tavern! yes sir, often.

_Foro._ No, I do mean in the new world, In the world that's in the Moon yonder.

_Tay._ How? a new world 'ith' moon?

_Foro._ Yes I assure you.

_Tay._ And peopled?

_Foro._ O most fantastically peopled.

_Tay._ Nay certain then there's work for taylors?

_Foro._ That there is I assure you.

_Tay._ Yet I have talked with a Scotch taylor That never discover'd so much to me, Though he has travell'd far, and was a pedlar in _Poland_.

_Foro._ That was out of his way, This lies beyond _China_: You would study new fashions you say? Take my councell, make a voyage, And discover that new world.

_Tay._ Shall I be a moon-man?

_Foro._ I am of opinion, the people of that world (If they be like the nature of that climate they live in) Do vary the fashion of their cloaths oftener than any Quick-silver'd nation in Europe.

_Tay._ Not unlikely, but what should that be we call The man in the moon then?

_Foro._ Why 'tis nothing but an Englishman That stands there stark naked, With a pair of sheers in one hand, And a great bundle of broad cloath in the other (Which resembles the bush of thorns) Cutting out of new fashions.

_Taylor._ I have heard somewhat like this, But how shall I get thither?

_Foro._ I'll make a new compass shall direct you.

_Tay._ Certain?

_Foro._ Count me else for no man of direction.

_Tay._ There's 20 duckats in hand, at my return I'll give you a 100.

_Foro._ A new voyage to discover new fashions.

_Mul._ I have been a traveller too sir, That have shewed strange beasts in Christendome, And got money by them, but I find the trade to decay. Your Camelion, or East-Indian hedg-hog Gets very little mony, and your Elephant devours So much bread, brings in so little profit, His keeper were better every morning Cram 15 Taylors with white manchet: I would have some new spectacle, And one that might be more attractive.

_Foro._ Let me see, were you ever in _Spain_?

_Mule._ Not yet Sir.

_Foro._ I would have you go to _Madrill_, and against some great festivall, when the court lies there, provide a great and spacious Eng[li]sh Oxe, and rost him whole, with a pudding in's bely; that would be the eighth wonder of the world in those parts I assure you.

_Mule._ A rare project without question.

_Foro._ Goe beyond all their garlike _olle padridoes_, though you sod one in _Garguentuas_ couldron, bring in more money, then all the monsters of _Affrick_.

_Host._ Good Sir do your best for him; he's of my acquaintance, and one if ye knew him--

_Foro._ What is he?

_Host._ He was once a man of infinite letters.

_Foro._ A Scholar?

_Host._ No sir, a packet carrier, which is alwaies a man of many letters, you know: then he was Mule-driver, now he's a gentleman, and feeds monsters.

_Foro._ A most ungratefull calling.

_Mule._ There's money for your direction; the price of the Oxe Sir?

_Foro._ A hundred French crowns, for it must be a _Lincolne_-shire Oxe, and a prime one: For a rare and monstrous spectacle, to be seen at _Madrill_.

_Enter Clown, Hostess, and Bianca._

_Hostes._ Pray forbear sir, we shall have a new quarrell.

_Clow._ You durst not meet me 'ith field, I am therefore come to spoyl your market.

_Foro._ What's the newes with you sir.

_Clow._ Gentlemen, you that come hither to be most abominably cheated, listen, and be as wise as your planet will suffer you, keep your mony, be not gul'd, be not laught at.

_Pedant._ What means this? would I had my mony again in my pocket.

_Host._ The fellow is full of malice, do not mind him.

_Clow._ This profest cheating rogue was my master, and I confess my self a more preternotorious rogue than himself, in so long keeping his villainous counsell.

_Foro._ Come, come, I will not hear you.

_Clow._ No couz'ner, thou wouldest not hear me, I do but dare thee to suffer me to speak, and then thou and all thy divells spit fire, and spout _Aqua fortis_.

_Foro._ Speak on, I freely permit thee.

_Clow._ Why then know all you simple animals, you whose purses are ready to cast the calf; if they have not cast it already, if you give any credit to this jugling rascal, you are worse than simple widgins, and will be drawn into the net by this decoy duck, this tame cheater.

_Foro._ Ha, ha, ha, pray mark him.

_Clow._ He does profess Physicke, and counjuring; for his Physick; he has but two medicines for all manner of diseases; when he was i'th' low countryes, he us'd nothing but butter'd beer, colour'd with Allegant, for all kind of maladies, and that he called his catholick med'cine; sure the Dutch smelt out it was butter'd beer, else they would never have endur'd it for the names sake: then does he minister a grated Dogs turd instead of Rubarb, many times of Unicornes horn, which working strongly with the conceit of the Patient, would make them bescummer to the height of a mighty purgation.

_Foro._ The rogue has studied this invective.

_Clow._ Now for his conjuring, the witches of _Lapland_ are the divells chare-women to him, for they will sell a man a wind to some purpose; he sells wind, and tells you fortie lyes over and over.

_Hostess._ I thought what we should find of him.

_Host._ Hold your prating, be not you an heretick.

_Clow._ Conjure! I'll tell you, all the divells names he calls upon are but fustion names, gather'd out of welch heraldry; in breif, he is a rogue of six reprieves, four pardons of course, thrice pilloried, twice sung _Lacrymæ_ to the Virginalls of a carts tail, h'as five times been in the _Gallies_, and will never truely run himself out of breath, till he comes to the gallowes.

_Foro._ You have heard worthy gentlemen, what this lying, detracting rascall has vomited.

_Tay._ Yes certain, but we have a better trust in you, for you have ta'en our money.

_Foro._ I have so, truth is he was my servant, and for some chastisement I gave him, he does practise thus upon me; speak truely sirra, are you certain I cannot conjure?

_Clow._ Conjure! ha, ha, ha.

_Foro._ Nay, nay, but be very sure of it.

_Clow._ Sure of it? why I'll make a bargain with thee, before all these gentlemen, use all thy art, all thy roguery, and make me do any thing before al this company I have not a mind to, I'll first give thee leave to claime me for thy bond slave, and when thou hast done hang me.

_Foro._ 'Tis a match, sirra, I'll make you caper i'th' air presently.

_Clow._ I have too solid a body, and my belief is like a Puritans on Good-Friday, too high fed with capon.

_Foro._ I will first send thee to Green-land for a haunch of venison, just of the thickness of thine own tallow.

_Clow._ Ha, ha, ha, I'll not stir an inch for thee.

_Foro._ Thence to _Amboyna_ i'th' _East-Indies_, for pepper to bake it.

_Clow._ To _Amboyna_? so I might be pepper'd.

_Foro._ Then will I conveigh thee stark naked to _Develing_ to beg a pair of _brogs_, to hide thy mountainous buttocks.

_Clow._ And no doublet to 'em?

_Foro._ No sir, I intend to send you of a sleeveless errand; but before you vanish, in regard you say I cannot conjure, and are so stupid, and opinionated a slave, that neither I, nor my art can compell you to do any thing that's beyond your own pleasure, the gentlemen shall have some sport, you cannot endure a cat sirra?

_Clow._ What's that to thee Jugler?

_Foro._ Nor you'll do nothing at my entreaty?

_Clow._ I'll be hang'd first.

_Foro._ Sit Gentlemen, and whatsoever you see, be not frighted.

_Hostess._ Alas I can endure no conjuring.

_Host._ Stir not wife.

_Bian._ Pray let me go sir, I am not fit for these fooleryes.

_Host._ Move not daughter.

_For._ I wil make you dance a new dance call'd leap-frog.

_Clow._ Ha, ha, ha.

_For._ And as naked as a frog.

_Clow._ Ha, ha, ha, I defie thee.

[Forobosco _looks in a book, strikes with his wand, Musick playes_.

_Enter 4. Boyes shaped like Frogs, and dance._

_P[e]dant._ Spirits of the water in the likeness of frogs.

_Tay._ He has fisht fair believe me.

_Mule._ See, see, he sweats and trembles.

_Foro._ Are you come to your quavers?

_Clow._ Oh, ho, ho.

_Foro._ I'll make you run division on that o'r ere I leave you; looke you, here are the playfellowes that are so indear'd to you; come sir, first uncase, and then dance, nay I'll make him dance stark naked.

_Host._ Oh let him have his shirt on and his _Mogols_ breeches, here are Women ith' house.

_Foro._ Well for their sakes he shall.

[_Clown teares off his doublet, making strange faces as_ _if compel'd to it, falls into the Dance._

_Tay._ He dances, what a lying rogue was this to say the gentleman could not conjure!

_Foro._ He does prettily well, but 'tis voluntary, I assure you, I have no hand in't.

_Clow._ As you are a Counjurer, and a rare Artist, free me from these couplets; of all creatures I cannot endure a Frog.

_Foro._ But your dancing is voluntary, I can compell you to nothing.

_Hostes._ O me, daughter, lets take heed of this fellow, he'll make us dance naked, an' we vex him. [--_Exeunt Hostess and Bianca._

_Foro._ Now cut capers sirra, I'll plague that chine of yours.

_Clow._ Ho, ho, ho, my kidneys are rosted. I drop away like a pound of butter rosted.

_Tayl._ He will dance himself to death.

_Foro._ No matter I'll sell his fat to the Pothecaries, and repair my injury that way.

_Host._ Enough in conscience.

_Foro._ Well, at your entreaty vanish. And now I wil only make him break his neck in doing a _sommerset_, and that's all the revenge I mean to take of him.

_Clow._ O gentlemen, what a rogue was I to belye so an approved Master in the noble dark science? you can witness, this I did only to spoyle his practise and deprive you of the happyness of injoying his worthy labors; rogue that I was to do it, pray sir forgive me.

_Foro._ With what face canst thou ask it?

_Clow._ With such a face as I deserve, with a hanging look, as all here can testifie.

_Foro._ Well gentlemen, that you may perceive the goodness of my temper, I will entertain this rogue againe in hope of amendment, for should I turn him off, he would be hang'd.

_Clow._ You may read that in this foul coppy.

_Foro._ Only with this promise, you shall never cozen any of my patients.

_Clow._ Never.

_Foro._ And remember hence forward, that though I cannot conjure, I can make you dance sirra, go get your self into the cottage again.

_Enter Cæsario._

_Clow._ I will never more dance leap-Frog: now I have got you into credit, hold it up, and cozen them in abundance.

_Foro._ Oh rare rascall. [--_Exit Clown._

_Cesar._ How now, a _Frankford_ mart here, a Mountebank, and his worshipfull auditory?

_Host._ They are my guests Sir.

_Cesar._ A ---- upon them, shew your jugling tricks in some other room.

_Host._ And why not here Sir?

_Cesar._ Hence, or sirra I shall spoil your figure flinging, and all their radicall questions.

_Omnes._ Sir we vanish. [_Exeunt. Manet Host. & Cesar._

_Host. Signior Cesario_, you make bold with me, And somewhat I must tell you to a degree Of ill manners: they are my guests, and men I live by, And I would know by what authority You command thus far.

_Cesar._ By my interest in your daughter.

_Host._ Interest do you call't? as I remember I never put her out to Usury on that condition.

_Cesar._ Pray thee be not angry.

_Enter Bianca and Hostess._

I am come to make thee happy, and her happy: She's here; alas my pretty soul, I am come To give assurance that's beyond thy hope, Or thy beleif, I bring repentance 'bout me, And satisfaction, I will marry thee.

_Bianca._ Ha?

_Cesar._ As I live I will, but do not entertain't With too quick an apprehension of joy, For that may hurt thee, I have heard some dye of't.

_Bian._ Do not fear me.

_Cesar._ Then thou think'st I feign This protestation, I will instantly Before these testifie my new alliance, Contract my self unto thee, then I hope We may be more private.

_Host._ But thou shalt not sir, For so has many a maiden-head been lost, and many a bastard gotten.

_Ces._ Then to give you the best of any assurance in the world, Entreat thy father to go fetch a Preist Wee will instantly to bed, and there be married.

_Bian._ Pride hath not yet forsaken you I see, Though prosperity has.

_Host._ Sir you are too confident To fashion to your self a dream of purchase When you are a begger.

_Ces._ You are bold with me.

_Hostes._ Doe we not know your value is cried down Fourscore i'th' hundred.

_Bian._ Oh sir I did love you With such a fixed heart, that in that minute Wherein you slighted, or contemn'd me rather, I took a vow to obey your last decree, And never more look up at any hope Should bring me comfort that way: and though since Your Foster-mother, and the fair _Clarissa_ Have in the way of marriage despis'd you, That hath not any way bred my revenge, But compassion rather. I have found So much sorrow in the way to a chaste wedlock That here I will set down, and never wish To come to'th' journies end. Your suit to mee Henceforth be ever silenc'd.

_Cesar._ My _Bianca_.

_Hostes._ Henceforward pray forbear her and my house: She's a poor virtuous wench, yet her estate May weigh with yours in a gold balance.

_Host._ Yes, and her birth in any Heralds office in Christendom.

_Hostes._ It may prove so: When you'll say, you have leapt a Whiting. [_Exit._

_Enter Baptista and Mentivole._

_Ces._ How far am I grown behind hand with fortune!

_Bap._ Here's _Cesario_! My son Sir, is to morrow to be married Unto the fair _Clarissa_.

_Ces._ So.

_Ment._ Wee hope you'll be a guest there.

_Ces._ No I will not grace your triumph so much.

_Bap._ I will not tax your breeding. But it alters not your birth Sir, fare you well.

_Ment._ Oh Sir, doe not greive him, He has too much affliction already. [_Exeunt._

_Enter a Sailor._

_Ces._ Every way scorn'd and lost, Shame follow you For I am grown most miserable.

_Sail._ Sir do you know a Ladies son in town here They cal _Cesario_?

_Cesar._ There's none such I assure thee.

_Sail._ I was told you were the man.

_Cesar._ What's that to thee?

_Sail._ A ---- on't. You are melancholy, will you drink Sir?

_Cesar._ With whom?

_Sail._ With me Sir; despise not this pitch'd Canvas; the time was we have known them lin'd with Spanish Duckets; I have news for you:

_Cesar._ For me!

_Sail._ Not unless you'll drink; We are like our Sea provision, once out of pickle, We require abundance of drink; I have news to tell you, That were you Prince, Would make you send your mandate To have a thousand bonfires made i'th' City And pist out agen with nothing but Greek wine.

_Cesar._ Come, I will drink with thee howsoever.

_Sail._ And upon these terms I will utter my mind to you. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Alberto, Prospero, Juliana and Sailors._

_Sail._ Shall we bring your necessaries ashore my Lord?

_Alb._ Do what you please, I am land-sick, worse by far Than ere I was at sea.

_Pros._ Collect your self.

_Alber._ O my most worthy _Prospero_, my best friend, The noble favor I receiv'd from thee In freeing me from the Turks I now accompt Worse than my death; for I shall never live To make requitall; what do you attend for?

_Sail._ To understand your pleasure.

_Alber._ They do mock me; I do protest I have no kind of pleasure In any thing i'th' world, but in thy friendship, I must ever except that.

_Pros._ Pray leave him, leave him.---- [_Exeunt Sailors._

_Alber._ The news I heard related since my landing Of the division of my Family, How is it possible for any man To bear't with a set patience?

_Pros._ You have suffer'd Since your imprisonment more waighty sorrows.

_Alber._ I, then I was man of flesh and blood, Now I am made up of fire, to the full height Of a deadly Calenture; O these vild women That are so ill preservers of mens honors, They cannot govern their own honesties. That I should thirty and odd winters feed My expectation of a noble heir, And by a womans falshood find him now A fiction, a mere dream of what he was; And yet I love him still.