The World's Greatest Books — Volume 17 — Poetry and Drama
SCENE II.--BOBADILL'S _room, a mean chamber, in_ COB'S _house_.
BOBADILL _lying on a bench. Enter_ MATTHEW, _ushered in by_ TIB.
MATTHEW: 'Save you, sir; 'save you, captain.
BOBADILL: Gentle Master Matthew! Sit down, I pray you. Master Matthew in any case, possess no gentlemen of our acquaintance with notice of my lodging. Not that I need to care who know it! But in regard I would not be too popular and generally visited, as some are.
MATTHEW: True, captain, I conceive you.
BOBADILL: For do you see, sir, by the heart of valour in me except it be to some peculiar and choice spirit like yourself--but what new book have you there?
MATTHEW: Indeed, here are a number of fine speeches in this book.
"O eyes, no eyes, but fountains fraught with tears"--
There's a conceit! Another:
"O life, no life but lively form of death! O world, no world but mass of public wrongs"--
O the Muses! Is't not excellent? But when will you come to see my study? Good faith I can show you some very good things I have done of late. But, captain, Master Well-bred's elder brother and I are fallen out exceedingly.
BOBADILL: Squire Down-right, the half-brother was't not? Hang him rook! Come hither; you shall chartel him. I'll show you a trick or two you shall kill him with, at pleasure, the first staccato, if you will, by this air. Come, put on your cloak, and we'll go to some private place where you are acquainted, some tavern or so. What money ha' you about you?
MATTHEW: Faith, not past a two shillings or so.
BOBADILL: 'Tis somewhat with the least; but come, we will have a bunch of radish and salt to taste our wine, and after we'll call upon Young Well-bred.
[_Exeunt_.