SCENE I.

LAVERDURE's _lodging_.

_One knocks:_ LAVERDURE _draws the curtains, sitting on his bed, apparelling himself; his trunk of apparel standing by him._

_Lav._ Ho! Bidet, lackey.

_Enter_ BIDET, _with water and a towel._

_Bid._ Signior.

_Lav._ See who knocks. Look, you boy; peruse their habits; return perfect notice. La la, ly ro!

[_Exit_ BIDET, _and returns presently._

_Bid._ Quadratus.

_Lav._ Quadratus, _mon Dieu, ma vie!_ I lay not at my lodging to-night. I'll not see him now, on my soul: he's in his old perpetuana[422] suit. I am not within.

_Bid._ He is fair, gallant, rich, neat as a bridegroom, fresh as a new-minted sixpence; with him Lampatho Doria, Simplicius Faber. 11

_Lav._ And in good clothes?

_Bid._ Accoutred worthy a presence.

_Lav._ _Uds so:_ my gold-wrought waistcoat and nightcap! Open my trunk: lay my richest suit on the top, my velvet slippers, cloth-of-gold gamashes:[423] where are my cloth-of-silver hose? lay them----

_Bid._ At pawn, sir.

_Lav._ No, sir; I do not bid you lay them at pawn, sir.

_Bid._ No, sir, you need not, for they are there already.

_Lav._ _Mor du, garzone!_ Set my richest gloves, garters, hats, just in the way of their eyes. So let them in; observe me with all duteous respect: let them in. 23

_Enter_ QUADRATUS, LAMPATHO DORIA, _and_ SIMPLICIUS FABER.

_Qua._ Phoebus, Phoebe, sun, moon, and seven stars, make thee the dilling[424] of fortune, my sweet Laverdure, my rich French blood. Ha, ye dear rogue, hast any pudding[425] tobacco?

_Lam._ Good morrow, signor.

_Sim._ Monsieur Laverdure, do you see that gentleman? He goes but in black satin, as you see, but, by Helicon! he hath a cloth of tissue wit. He breaks a jest; ha, he'll rail against the court till the gallants--O God! he is very nectar; if you but sip of his love, you were immortal. I must needs make you known to him; I'll induce your love with dear regard. Signior Lampatho, here is a French gentleman, Monsieur Laverdure, a traveller, a beloved of Heaven, courts your acquaintance.

_Lam._ Sir, I protest[426] I not only take distinct notice of your dear rarities of exterior presence, but also I protest I am most vehemently enamour'd, and very passionately dote on your inward adornments and liabilities of spirit! I protest I shall be proud to do you most obsequious vassalage. 43

_Qua._ [_Aside._] Is not this rare, now? Now, by Gorgon's head, I gape, and am struck stiff in wonderment At sight of these strange beasts. Yon[427] chamlet[428] youth, Simplicius Faber, that hermaphrodite, _Party_[429] _per pale_, that bastard mongrel soul, Is nought but admiration and applause Of yon[430] Lampatho Doria, a fusty cask, 50 Devote to mouldy customs of hoary eld; Doth he but speak, "O tones of heaven itself!" Doth he once write, "O Jesu admirable!" Cries out Simplicius. Then Lampatho spits, And says, "faith 'tis good." But, O, to mark yon thing Sweat to unite acquaintance to his friend, Labour his praises, and endear his worth With titles all as formally trick'd forth As the cap of a dedicatory epistle. Then, sir, to view Lampatho: he protests, 60 Protests and vows such sudden heat of love, That O 'twere warmth enough of mirth to dry The stintless tears[431] of old Heraclitus,-- Make Niobe to laugh!

_Lam._ I protest I shall be proud to give you proof I hold a most religious affiance with your love.

_Lav._ Nay, gentle signior.

_Lam._ Let me not live else. I protest I will strain my utmost sinews in strengthening your precious estimate; I protest I will do all rights in all good offices that friendship can touch, or amplest virtue deserve. 71

_Qua._ I protest, believe him not; I'll beg thee, Laverdure, For a conceal'd idiot,[432] if thou credit him; He's a hyena,[433] and with civet scent Of perfumed words, draws to make a prey For laughter of thy credit. O this hot crackling love, That blazeth on an instant, flames me out On the least puff of kindness, with "protest, protest!" Catzo, I dread these hot protests, that press, Come on so fast. No, no! away, away! 80 You are a common friend, or will betray. Let me clip amity that's got with suit; I hate this whorish love that's prostitute.

_Lav._ Horn on my tailor! could he not bring home My satin taffeta or tissue suit, But I must needs be cloth'd in woollen thus? Bidet, what says he for my silver hose, And primrose satin doublet? God's my life! Gives he no more observance to my body?

_Lam._ O, in that last suit, gentle Laverdure, 90 Visit my lodging. By Apollo's front, Do but inquire my name. O straight they'll say, Lampatho suits himself in such a hose.

_Sim._ Mark that, Quadratus.

_Lam._ Consorts himself with such a doublet.

_Sim._ Good, good, good! O Jesu! admirable.

_Lav._ La la, ly ro, sir!

_Lam._ O Pallas! Quadratus, hark! hark! A most complete phantasma, a most ridiculous humour; prithee shoot him through and through with a jest; make him lie by the lee, thou basilisco[434] of wit. 101

_Sim._ O Jesu! admirably well spoken; angelical tongue!

_Qua._ Gnathonical coxcomb!

_Lam._ Nay, prithee, fut, fear not, he's no edge-tool; you may jest with him.

_Sim._ No edge-tool. Oh!

_Qua._ Tones of heaven itself.

_Sim._ Tones of heaven itself.

_Qua._ By blessedness, I thought so.

_Lam._ Nay, when?[435] when? 110

_Qua._ Why, thou pole-head![436] thou Janus! thou poltroon! thou protest! thou earwig that wrigglest into men's brains! thou dirty cur, that bemirest with thy fawning! thou----

_Lam._ Obscure me! or----

_Qua._ Signior Laverdure, by the heart of an honest man, this Jebusite--this, confusion to him! this worse than I dare to name--abuseth thee most incomprehensibly. Is this your protest of most obsequious vassalage? Protest to strain your utmost sum, your most---- 120

_Lam._ So Phoebus warm my brain, I'll rhyme thee dead. Look for the satire: if all the sour juice Of a tart brain can souse thy estimate, I'll pickle thee.

_Qua._ Ha! he mount Chirall[437] on the wings of fame! A horse! a horse! My kingdom for a horse![438] Look thee, I speak play-scraps. Bidet, I'll down, Sing, sing, or stay, we'll quaff, or anything. Rivo,[439] Saint Mark, let's talk as loose as air; Unwind youth's colours, display ourselves, 130 So that yon envy-starvèd cur may yelp And spend his chaps at our fantasticness.

_Sim._ O Lord, Quadratus!

_Qua._ Away, idolater! Why, you Don Kynsader![440] Thou canker-eaten rusty cur! thou snaffle To freer spirits! Think'st thou, a libertine, an ungyved breast, Scorns not the shackles of thy envious clogs? You will traduce us unto public scorn?

_Lam._ By this hand I will. 140

_Qua._ A foutra for thy hand, thy heart, thy brain! Thy hate, thy malice, envy, grinning spite! Shall a free-born, that holds antipathy----

_Lam._ Antipathy!

_Qua._ Ay, antipathy, a native hate Unto the curse of man, bare-pated servitude, Quake at the frowns of a ragg'd satirist-- A scrubbing railer, whose coarse, harden'd fortune, Grating his hide, galling his starvèd ribs, Sits howling at desert's more battle fate[441]-- Who out of dungeon of his black despairs, 150 Scowls at the fortune of the fairer merit.

_Lav._ Tut, via! Let all run glib and square.

_Qua._ Uds fut! He coggs and cheats your simpler thoughts, My spleen's a-fire in the heat of hate; I bear these gnats that hum about our ears, And blister[442] our credits in obscured shades.

_Lav._ Pewte bougra! La, la, la! Tit! Shaugh! Shall I forbear to caper, sing, or vault? To wear fresh clothes, or wear perfumèd sweets? To trick my face, or glory in my fate? 160 T' abandon natural propensitudes? My fancy's humour?--for a stiff jointed, Tatter'd, nasty, taber-fac'd----Puh, la, la, ly ro!

_Qua._ Now, by thy lady's cheek, I honour thee, My rich free blood. O my dear libertine! I could suck the juice, the sirrup of thy lip, For thy most generous thought!--my Elysium!

_Lam._ O, sir, you are so square, you scorn reproof.

_Qua._ No, sir; should discreet Mastigophoros, Or the dear spirit acute Canaidus 170 (That Aretine, that most of me beloved, Who in the rich esteem I prize his soul, I term myself); should these once menace me, Or curb my humours with well-govern'd check, I should with most industrious regard, Observe, abstain, and curb my skipping lightness; But when an arrogant, odd, impudent, A blushless forehead, only out of sense Of his own wants, bawls in malignant questing At others' means of waving gallantry,-- 180 Pight foutra!

_Lam._ I rail at none, you well-squared signior.

_Qua._ I cannot tell; 'tis now grown fashion, What's out of railing's out of fashion. A man can scarce put on a tuck'd-up cap, A button'd frizado suit, scarce eat good meat, Anchovies, caviare, but he's satired And term'd fantastical by the muddy spawn Of slimy newts, when, troth, fantasticness-- That which the natural sophisters term 190 _Phantasia incomplexa_--is a function Even of the bright immortal part of man. It is the common pass, the sacred door, Unto the privy chamber of the soul; That barr'd, nought passeth past the baser court Of outward sense; by it th' inamorate Most lively thinks he sees the absent beauties Of his loved mistress; By it we shape a new creation Of things as yet unborn; by it we feed 200 Our ravenous memory, our intention feast: 'Slid he that's not fantastical's a beast.

_Lam._ Most fantastical protection of fantasticness.

_Lav._ Faith, 'tis good.

_Qua._ So't be fantastical 'tis wit's lifeblood.

_Lav._ Come, signior, my legs are girt.

_Qua._ Fantastically?

_Lav._ After a special humour, a new cut.

_Qua._ Why, then, 'tis rare, 'tis excellent. Uds fut! And I were to be hanged I would be choked Fantastically. He can scarce be saved 210 That's not fantastical: I stand firm to it.

_Lav._ Nay, then, sweet sir, give reason. Come on: when?[443]

_Qua._ 'Tis hell to run in common base of men.

_Lav._ Has not run thyself out of breath, bully?[444]

_Qua._ And I have not jaded thy ears more than I have tired my tongue, I could run discourse, put him out of his full pace. I could pour speech till thou criedst ho! but troth, I dread a glut; and I confess much love To freer gentry, whose pert agile spirits 220 Is too much frost-bit, numb'd with ill-strain'd snibs,[445] Hath tenter-reach'd[446] my speech. By Brutus' blood, He is a turf that will be slave to man; But he's a beast that dreads his mistress' fan.

_Lav._ Come, all mirth and solace, capers, healths, and whiffs;[447] To-morrow are my nuptials celebrate. All friends, all friends!

_Lam._ I protest----

_Qua._ Nay, leave protests; pluck out your snarling fangs. When thou hast means, be fantastical and sociable. Go to: here's my hand; and you want forty shillings, I am your Mecænas, though not _atavis edite regibus_. 233

_Lam._ Why, content, and I protest----

_Qua._ I'll no protest!

_Lam._ Well, and I do not leave these fopperies, do not lend me forty shillings, and there's my hand: I embrace you--love you--nay, adore thee; for by the juice of wormwood, thou hast a bitter brain!

_Qua._ You, Simplicius, wolt leave that staring fellow, Admiration, and adoration of thy acquaintance, wilt? A scorn! out; 'tis odious. Too eager a defence argues a strong opposition; and too vehement a praise draws a suspicion of others' worthy disparagement. 245 Set[448] tapers to bright day, it ill befits; Good wines can vent themselves, and not good wits?

_Sim._ Good truth, I love you; and with the grace of Heaven, I'll be very civil and----

_Qua._ Fantastical. 250

_Sim._ I'll be something; I have a conceal'd humour in me; and 'twere broach'd 'twould spurt i'faith.

_Qua._ Come then, Saint Mark, let's be as light as air, As fresh and jocund as the breast of May. I prithee, good French knight, good plump-cheek'd chub, Run some French passage. Come, let's see thy vein-- Dances, scenes, and songs, royal entertain.

_Lav._ Petit lacque, page, page, Bidet, sing! Give it the French jerk--quick, spart, lightly--ha! Ha, here's a turn unto my Celia![449] 260

_Qua._ Stand stiff! ho, stand! take footing firm! stand sure! For if thou fall before thy mistress Thy manhood's damn'd. Stand firm! Ho! good! so, so!

_The Dance and Song._

_Lav._ Come, now, via, aloune,[450] to Celia.

_Qua._ Stay, take an old rhyme first; though dry and lean, 'Twill serve to close the stomach of the scene.

_Lav._ This is thy humour to berhyme us still; Never so slightly pleased, but out they fly.

_Qua._ They are mine own, no gleanèd poetry; My fashion's known. Out, rhyme; take't as you list: 270 A fico[451] for the sour-brow'd Zoilist!

Music, tobacco, sack, and sleep, The tide of sorrow backward keep. If thou art sad at others' fate, _Rivo_,[452] drink deep, give care the mate. On us the end of time is come, Fond fear of that we cannot shun; Whilst quickest sense doth freshly last, Clip time about, hug pleasure fast. The sisters ravel out our twine, 280 He that knows little 's most divine. Error deludes; who'll beat this hence,-- Naught's known but by exterior sense? Let glory blazon others' deed, My blood than breath craves better meed. Let twattling fame cheat others' rest, I am no dish for rumour's feast. Let honour others' hope abuse, I'll nothing have, so nought will lose. I'll strive to be nor great nor small, 290 To live nor die; fate helmeth[453] all. When I can breathe no longer, then Heaven take all: there put Amen.

How is't? how is't?

_Lav._ Faith, so, so; _tellement, quellement;_ As 't please opinion to current it.

_Qua._ Why, then, via! let's walk.

_Lav._ I must give notice to an odd pedant, as we pass, of my nuptials: I use him, for he is obscure, and shall marry us in private. I have many enemies, but secresy is the best evasion from envy. 300

_Qua._ Holds it to-morrow?

_Lav._ Ay firm, absolute.

_Lam._ I'll say amen if the priest be mute.

_Qua._ Epithalamiums will I sing, my chuck. Go on--spend freely--out on dross, 'tis muck.

[_Exeunt._

[422] A sort of coarse cloth.--"By this heaven I wonder at nothing more than our gentlemen ushers, that will suffer a piece of serge or _perpetuana_ to come into the presence."--_Cynthia's Revels_, iii. 2.

[423] "A kind of loose drawers or stockings worn outside the legs over the other clothing."--_Halliwell._

[424] "Mignon.--A minion, favourite wanton, _dilling_, darling."--_Cotgrave._

[425] _Pudding_ tobacco is frequently mentioned by the dramatists. Cf. _Cynthia's Revels_, ii. 1:--"Never kneels but to pledge healths, nor prays but for a pipe of _pudding-tobacco_." Probably it was tobacco compressed into a solid shape.

[426] From numerous passages it appears that it was regarded as a piece of affectation to use the word _protest_. See Dyce's _Shakesp. Glossary_.

[427] Ed. 1. "You."

[428] Chamlet (or camlet) was a mixed stuff of wool and silk.

[429] "'_Party per pale_' is a term in heraldry denoting that the field or ground on which the figures that make up a coat of arms are represented, is divided into two equal parts by a perpendicular line; and Quadratus means that the external appearances of the two sexes are, in Simplicius, divided with equal exactness."--_Dilke._

[430] Old eds. "you."

[431] I beseech the reader to make "tears" equivalent to a dissyllable and not pronounce "Heracl[=i]tus" as "Heracl[)i]tus."

[432] Formerly it was in the sovereign's power to grant to any petitioner the care of the person and estates of a subject who had been legally proved to be an idiot.

[433] Marston has made a slip here: he has confused the hyena with the panther. "The panther or pardal," says Topsel, "smelleth most sweetly, which savour he hath received from a divine gift, and doth not only feel the benefit of it himself, but also bewray it unto other beasts; for when he feeleth himself to be hungry and stand in need of meat, then doth he get up into some rough tree, and by his savour or sweet smell, draweth unto him an innumerable company of wild goats, harts, roes, and hinds, and such other beasts, and so upon a sudden leapeth down upon them when he espieth his convenient time. And Solinus saith that the sweetness of his savour worketh the same effect upon them in the open fields, for they are so mightily delighted with his spotted skin and fragrant smell that they always come running unto him from all parts, striving who shall come nearest to him to be satisfied with the sight; but when once they look upon his fierce and grim face they all are terrified and turn away" (_History of Four-footed Beasts_, ed. 1658, p. 451).

[434] The name of a piece of ordnance.

[435] An exclamation of impatience.

[436] Tadpole.--"Cavesot. A _pole-head_ or bull-head; the little black vermine whereof toads and frogs do come."--_Cotgrave._

[437] Dilke reads "cheval," and Mr. J. R. Lowell (in _My Study Windows_) approves of the emendation. I suspect that "Chirall" is a corruption of the name of some horse famous in one of the old romances.--_Curtal_ (= docked horse) would be preferable to _cheval_.

[438] We have had in _Parasitaster_ (p. 212) a travesty of this line of _Richard III_. So in the _Scourge of Villainy_:-- "A man! a man! a kingdom for a man!"

Again in _Eastward Ho_:-- "A boat! a boat! a full hundred marks for a boat!"

[439] A bacchanalian exclamation of uncertain origin.

[440] _Kinsader_ was the pseudonym under which Marston published his _Scourge of Villainy_.

[441] If the text is not corrupt, "more battle fate" must mean "more prosperous fortune." _Battle_ and _batful_, applied to land, had the meaning--_fertile_, _fruitful_.

[442] Old eds. "and sting-blister."--I suspect that Marston first wrote "stinge," and afterwards corrected it into "blister,"--the printer keeping both words.

[443] See note 2, p. 348.

[444] A familiar form of address.

[445] Snubs.

[446] Ed. 1. "tender-reach'd."

[447] A particular manner of smoking tobacco. In the Character of the Persons prefixed to _Every Man out of his Humour_ it is said of Cavaliero Shift--"His chief exercises are _taking the whiff_, squiring a cockatrice, &c." We learn from the _Gull's Horn-book_ (Dekker's _Works_, ed. Grosart, ii. 242) that it was part of a gallant's education to be skilled in _taking the whiff_.

[448] "With taper light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish Is wasteful and ridiculous excess."--_King John_, iv. 2.

[449] Old eds. "Lucea."

[450] A corruption of Fr. _allons_. Cf. Nashe's _Have with you to Saffron_--"_Alloune, alloune_, let us march!" (_Works_, ed. Grosart, iii. 163.)

[451] See Dyce's _Shakesp. Glossary_.

[452] A bacchanalian exclamation.

[453] Ed. 2. "helpeth."