Every Man in His Humor Part 22

E. Know. Take heed you buy it not too dear, coz.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-A Room in KITELY'S House.

Enter KITELY, WELLBRED, Dame KITELY, and BRIDGET,

Kit.

Now, trust me, brother, you were much to blame, T' incense his anger, and disturb the peace Of my poor house, where there are sentinels That every minute watch to give alarms Of civil war, without adjection Of your a.s.sistance or occasion.

Wel. No harm done, brother, I warrant you: since there is no harm done, anger costs a man nothing; and a tall man is never his own man till he be angry. To keep his valour in obscurity, is to keep himself as it were in a cloak bag. What's a musician, unless he play? What's a tall man unless he fight? For, indeed, all this my wise brother stands upon absolutely; and that made me fall in with him so resolutely.

Dame K. Ay, but what harm might have come of it, brother?

Wel. Might, sister? so might the good warm clothes your husband wears be poisoned, for any thing he knows: or the wholesome wine he drank, even now at the table.

Kit.

Now, G.o.d forbid! O me! now I remember My wife drank to me last, and changed the cup, And bade me wear this cursed suit to-day.

See, if Heaven suffer murder undiscover'd!

I feel me ill; give me some mithridate, Some mithridate and oil, good sister, fetch me: O, I am Sick at heart, I burn. I burn.

If you will save my life, go fetch it me.

Wel. O strange humour! my very breath has poison'd him.

Brid.

Good brother be content, what do you mean?

The strength of these extreme conceits will kill you.

Dame K.

Beshrew your heart, blood, brother Wellbred, now, For putting such a toy into his head!

Wel. Is a fit simile a toy? will he be poison'd with a simile?

Brother Kitely, what a strange and idle imagination is this! For shame, be wiser. O' my soul there's no such matter.

Kit. Am I not sick? how am I then not poison'd? Am I not poison'd?

how am I then so sick?

Dame K. If you be sick, your own thoughts make you sick.

Wel. His jealousy is the poison he has taken.

Enter BRAINWORM, disguised in FORMAL'S clothes.

Brai. Master Kitely, my master, justice Clement salutes you; and desires to speak with you with all possible speed.

Kit. No time but now, when I think I am sick, very sick! well, I will wait upon his worship. Thomas! Cob! I must seek them out, and set them sentinels till I return. Thomas! Cob! Thomas!

[Exit. Wel.

This is perfectly rare, Brainworm; [takes him aside.] but how got'st thou this apparel of the justice's man?

Brai. Marry, sir, my proper fine pen-man would needs bestow the grist on me, at the Windmill, to hear some martial discourse; where I so marshall'd him, that I made him drunk with admiration; and, because too much heat was the cause of his distemper, I stript him stark naked as he lay along asleep, and borrowed his suit to deliver this counterfeit message in, leaving a rusty armour, and an old brown bill to watch him till my return; which shall be, when I have p.a.w.n'd his apparel, and spent the better part O' the money, perhaps.

Wel. Well, thou art a successful merry knave, Brainworm: his absence will be a good subject for more mirth. I pray thee return to thy young master, and will him to meet me and my sister Bridget at the Tower instantly; for here, tell him the house is so stored with jealousy, there is no room for love to stand up'right in. We must get our fortunes committed to some larger prison, say; and than the Tower, I know no better air, nor where the liberty of the house may do us more present service. Away.

Exit Brai.

Re-enter KITELY, talking aside to CASH.

Kit.

Come hither, Thomas. Now my secret's ripe, And thou shalt have it: lay to both thine ears.

Hark what I say to thee. I must go forth, Thomas; Be careful of thy promise, keep good watch, Note every gallant, and observe him well, That enters in my absence to thy mistress: If she would shew him rooms, the jest is stale, Follow them, Thomas, or else hang on him, And let him not go after; mark their looks; Note if she offer but to see his band, Or any other amorous toy about him; But praise his leg, or foot: or if she say The day is hot, and bid him feel her hand, How hot it is; O, that's a monstrous thing!

Note me all this, good Thomas, mark their sighs, And if they do but whisper, break 'em off: I'll bear thee out in it. Wilt thou do this?

Wilt thou be true, my Thomas?

Cash. As truth's self, sir.

Kit. Why, I believe thee: Where is Cob, now? Cob!

[Exit.

Dame K. He's ever calling for Cob: I wonder how he employs Cob so.

Wel. Indeed, sister, to ask how he employs Cob, is a necessary question for you that are his wife, and a thing not very easy for you to be satisfied in; but this I'll a.s.sure you, Cob's wife is an excellent bawd, sister, and oftentimes your husband haunts her house; marry, to what end? I cannot altogether accuse him; imagine you what you think convenient: but I have known fair hides have foul hearts ere now, sister.

Dame K. Never said you truer than that, brother, so much I can tell you for your learning. Thomas, fetch your cloak and go with me.

[Exit Gash.] I'll after him presently: I would to fortune I could take him there, i'faith, I'd return him his own, I warrant him!

[Exit.

Wel. So, let 'em go; this may make sport anon. Now, my fair sister-in-law, that you knew but how happy a thing it were to be fair and beautiful.

Brid. That touches not me, brother.

Wel. That's true; that's even the fault of it; for indeed, beauty stands a woman in no stead, unless it procure her touching.--But, sister, whether it touch you or no. It touches your beauties; and I am sure they will abide the touch; an they do not, a plague of all ceruse, say I! and it touches me too in part, though not in the--Well, there's a dear and respected friend of mine, sister, stands very strongly and worthily affected toward you, and hath vowed to inflame whole bonfires of zeal at his heart, in honour of your perfections. I have already engaged my promise to bring you where you shall hear him confirm much more. Ned Knowell is the man, sister: there's no exception against the party. You are ripe for a husband; and a minute's loss to such all occasion, is a great trespa.s.s in a wise beauty. What say you, sister? On 'my soul he loves you; will you give him the meeting?

Brid. Faith, I had very little confidence in mine own constancy, brother, if I durst not meet a man; but this motion of yours savours of an old knight adventurer's servant a little too much, methinks.

Wel. What' s that, sister?

Brid. Marry, of the squire.

Wel. No matter if it did, I would be such an one for my friend. But see, who is return'd to hinder us!

Reenter KITELY.

Kit.

What villainy is this? call'd out on a false message!

This was some plot; I was not sent for.---Bridget, Where is your sister?

Brid. I think she be gone forth, sir.

Kit. How! is my wife gone forth? whither, for G.o.d's sake?

Brid. She's gone abroad with Thomas.