SCENE V.[1200

[_Enter_] KNOWELL.

_Know._ I cannot lose the thought yet of this letter Sent to my son; nor leave t’ admire[1201] the change Of manners, and the breeding of our youth Within the kingdom, since myself was one.— When I was young, he liv’d not in the stews, 5 Durst have conceiv’d a scorn, and utter’d it, On a gray head; age was authority Against a buffoon, and a man had then A certain reverence paid unto his years, That had none due unto his life: so much 10 The sanctity of some prevail’d for others. But now we all are fall’n; youth, from their fear, And age, from that which bred it, good example. Nay, would ourselves were not the first, e’en parents, 14 That did destroy the hopes in our own children; Or they not learn’d our vices in their cradles, And suck’d in our ill customs with their milk! Ere all their teeth be born, or they can speak, We make their palates cunning; the first words We form their tongues with, are licentious jests: Can it call “whore”? cry “bastard”? O, then, kiss it! 21 A witty child! Can’t swear? The father’s darling! Give it two plums. Nay, rather than ’t shall learn No bawdy song, the mother herself will teach it! But this is in the infancy, the days 25 Of the long coat; when it puts on the breeches, It will put off all this. Ay, it is like, When it is gone into the bone already! No, no; this dye goes deeper than the coat, Or shirt, or skin; it stains into the liver 30 And heart, in some: and, rather than it should not, Note what we fathers do! Look how we live! What mistresses we keep! at what expense! In our sons’ eyes, where they may handle our gifts, Hear our lascivious courtships, see our dalliance, Taste of the same provoking meats with us, 36 To ruin of our states! Nay, when our own Portion is fled, to prey on the remainder, We call them into fellowship of vice; Bait ’em with the young chamber-maid, to seal,[1202] And teach ’em all bad ways to buy affliction. 41 This is one path; but there are millions more, In which we spoil our own, with leading them. Well, I thank heaven, I never yet was he That travell’d with my son, before sixteen, 45 To shew him the Venetian courtesans; Nor read the grammar of cheating I had made, To my sharp boy, at twelve; repeating still The rule, _Get money; still, get money, boy; No matter by what means; money will do 50 More, boy, than my lord’s letter_. Neither have I Drest snails or mushrooms curiously before him, Perfum’d my sauces, and taught him how to make ’em; Preceding still, with my gray gluttony, At all the ord’naries, and only fear’d 55 His palates should degenerate, not his manners. These are the trade of fathers now; however, My son, I hope, hath met within my threshold None of these household precedents, which are strong And swift to rape youth to their precipice. 60 But let the house at home be ne’er so clean Swept, or kept sweet from filth, nay dust and cobwebs, If he will live abroad with his companions, In dung and leystals,[1203] it is worth a fear; Nor is the danger of conversing less 65 Than all that I have mention’d of example.

[_Enter_ BRAINWORM, _disguised as before_.]

_Brai._ [_Aside._] My master! nay, faith, have at you; I am flesht now, I have sped so well.— Worshipful sir, I beseech you, respect the estate of a poor soldier; I am asham’d of this base (70) course of life,—God’s my comfort—but extremity provokes me to ’t: what remedy?

_Know._ I have not for you, now.

_Brai._ By the faith I bear unto truth, gentleman, it is no ordinary custom in me, but (75) only to preserve manhood. I protest to you, a man I have been: a man I may be, by your sweet bounty.

_Know._ Pray thee, good friend, be satisfied.

_Brai._ Good sir, by that hand, you may do (80) the part of a kind gentleman, in lending a poor soldier the price of two cans of beer, a matter of small value: the king of heaven shall pay you, and I shall rest thankful. Sweet worship——

_Know._ Nay, an you be so importunate—— 85

_Brai._ Oh, tender sir I need will have its course; I was not made to this vile use. Well, the edge of the enemy could not have abated me so much: it’s hard when a man hath serv’d in his prince’s cause, and be thus (_Weeps_). (90) Honourable worship, let me derive a small piece of silver from you, it shall not be given in the course of time.[1204] By this good ground, I was fain to pawn my rapier last night for a poor supper; I had suck’d the hilts long before, I am a 95 pagan else. Sweet honour——

_Know._ Believe me, I am taken with some wonder, To think a fellow of thy outward presence, Should, in the frame and fashion of his mind, Be so degenerate, and sordid-base. 100 Art thou a man, and sham’st thou not to beg? To practise such a servile kind of life? Why, were thy education ne’er so mean, Having thy limbs, a thousand fairer courses Offer themselves to thy election. 105 Either the wars might still supply thy wants, Or service of some virtuous gentleman, Or honest labour; nay, what can I name, But would become thee better than to beg: But men of thy condition feed on sloth, 110 As doth the beetle on the dung she breeds in; Nor caring how the metal of your minds Is eaten with the rust of idleness. Now, afore me, whate’er he be, that should Relieve a person of thy quality, 115 While thou insist’st in this loose desperate course, I would esteem the sin not thine, but his.

_Brai._ Faith, sir, I would gladly find some other course, if so——

_Know._ Ay, you’d gladly find it, but you will not seek it. 121

_Brai._ Alas, sir, where should a man seek? In the wars, there’s no ascent by desert in these days; but——and for service, would it were as soon purchas’d,[1205] as wisht for! The air’s my 125 comfort.—[_Sighs_]—I know what I would say.

_Know._ What’s thy name?

_Brai._ Please you, Fitz-Sword, sir.

_Know._ Fitz-Sword! Say that a man should entertain thee now, 130 Wouldst thou be honest, humble, just, and true?

_Brai._ Sir, by the place and honour of a soldier——

_Know._ Nay, nay, I like not these affected oaths. Speak plainly, man, what think’st thou of my words? 135

_Brai._ Nothing, sir, but wish my fortunes were as happy as my service should be honest.

_Know._ Well, follow me; I’ll prove thee, if thy deeds Will carry a proportion to thy words. [_Exit._]

_Brai._ Yes, sir, straight; I’ll but garter (140) my hose. Oh that my belly were hoopt now, for I am ready to burst with laughing! never was bottle or hagpipe fuller. ’Slid, was there ever seen a fox in years to betray himself thus! Now shall I be possest of all his counsels; (145) and, by that conduit, my young master. Well, he is resolv’d to prove[1206] my honesty; faith, and I’m resolv’d to prove his patience: oh, I shall abuse[1207] him intolerably. This small piece of service will bring him clean out of love with (150) the soldier for ever. He will never come within the sign of it, the sight of a cassock,[1208] or a musket-rest again. He will hate the musters at Mile-end for it, to his dying day. It’s no matter, let the world think me a bad counterfeit, if I cannot give him the slip[1209] 155 at an instant. Why, this is better than to have staid his journey. Well, I’ll follow him. Oh, how I long to be employed! [_Exit._]