Every Man in His Humor Part 7

So would not I in any b.a.s.t.a.r.d's, brother, As it is like he is, although I knew Myself his father. But you said you had somewhat To tell me, gentle brother: what is't, what is't?

Kit.

Faith, I am very loath to utter it, As fearing it may hurt your patience: But that I know your judgment is of strength, Against the nearness of affection---

Dow.

What need this circ.u.mstance? pray you, be direct.

Kit.

I will not say how much I do ascribe Unto your friendship, nor in what regard I hold your love; but let my past behaviour, And usage of your sister, [both] confirm How well I have been affected to your---

Dow.

You are too tedious; come to the matter, the matter.

Kit.

Then, without further ceremony, thus.

My brother Wellbred, sir, I know not how, Of late is much declined in what he was, And greatly alter'd in his disposition.

When he came first to lodge here in my house, Ne'er trust me if I were not proud of him: Methought he bare himself in such a fashion, So full of man, and sweetness in his carriage, And what was chief, it shew'd not borrow'd in him, But all he did became him as his own, And seem'd as perfect, proper, and possest, As breath with life, or colour with the blood.

But now, his course is so irregular, So loose, affected, and deprived of grace, And he himself withal so far fallen off From that first place, as scarce no note remains, To tell men's judgments where he lately stood.

He's grown a stranger to all due respect, Forgetful of his friends; and not content To stale himself in all societies, He makes my house here common as a mart, A theatre, a public receptacle For giddy humour, and deceased riot; And here, as in a tavern or a stews, He and his wild a.s.sociates spend their hours, In repet.i.tion of lascivious jests, Swear, leap, drink, dance, and revel night by night, Control my servants; and, indeed, what not?

Dow. 'Sdeins, I know not what I should say to him, in the whole world! He values me at a crack'd three-farthings, for aught I see.

It will never out of the flesh that's bred in the bone. I have told him enough, one would think, if that would serve; but counsel to him is as good as a shoulder of mutton to a sick horse. Well!

he knows what to trust to, for George: let him spend, and spend, and domineer, till his heart ake; an he think to be relieved by me, when he is got into one O' your city pounds, the counters, he has the wrong sow by the ear, i'faith; and claps his dish at the wrong man's door: I'll lay my hand on my halfpenny, ere I part with it to fetch him out, I'll a.s.sure him.'

Kit. Nay, good brother, let it not trouble you thus.

Dow. 'Sdeath! he mads me; I could eat my very spur leathers for anger! But, why are you so tame? why do you not speak to him, and tell him how he disquiets your house?

Kit.

O, there are divers reasons to dissuade me.

But, would yourself vouchsafe to travail in it (Though but with plain and easy circ.u.mstance), It would both come much better to his sense, And savour less of stomach, or of pa.s.sion.

You are his elder brother, and that t.i.tle Both gives and warrants your authority, Which, by your presence seconded, must breed A kind of duty in him, and regard: Whereas, if I should intimate the least, It would but add contempt to his neglect, Heap worse on ill, make up a pile of hatred, That in the rearing would come tottering down, And in the ruin bury all our love.

Nay, more than this, brother; if I should speak, He would be ready, from his heat of humour, And overflowing of the vapour in him, To blow the ears of his familiars With the false breath of telling what disgraces, And low disparagement's, I had put upon him.

Whilst they, sir, to relieve him in the fable, Make their loose comments upon every word, Gesture, or look, I use; mock me all over, From my flat cap unto my shining shoes; And, out of their impetuous rioting phant'sies, Beget some slander that shall dwell with me.

And what would that be, think you? marry, this: They would give out, because my wife is fair, Myself but lately married; and my sister '.

Here sojourning a virgin in my house, That I were jealous I---nay, as sure as death, That they would say: and, how that I had quarrell'd, My brother purposely, thereby to find An apt pretext to banish them my house.

Dow. Ma.s.s, perhaps so; they're like enough to do it.

Kit.

Brother, they would, believe it; so should I, Like one of these penurious quack-salvers, But set the bills up to mine own disgrace, And try experiments upon myself; Lend scorn and envy opportunity To stab my reputation and good name-- Enter Master MATHEW struggling with BOBADILL.

Mat. I will speak to him.

Bob. Speak to him! away! By the foot of Pharaoh, you shall not! you shall not do him that grace.--The time of day to you, gentleman O'

the house. Is master Wellbred stirring?

Dow. How then? what should he do?

Bob. Gentleman of the house, it is to you: is he within, sir?

Kit. He came not to his lodging to-night, sir, I a.s.sure you.

Dow. Why, do you hear? you!

Bob.

The gentleman citizen hath satisfied me; I'll talk to no scavenger. [Exeunt Bob. and Mat.

Dow. How! scavenger! stay, sir, stay!

Kit. Nay, brother Downright.

Dow. 'Heart! stand you away, an you love me.

Kit. You shall not follow him now, I pray you, brother, good faith you shall not; I will overrule you.

Dow. Ha! scavenger! well, go to, I say little: but, by this good day (G.o.d forgive me I should swear), if I put it up so, say I am the rankest cow that ever pist. 'Sdeins, an I swallow this, I'll ne'er draw my sword in the sight of Fleet-street again while I live; I'll sit in a barn with madge-howlet, and catch mice first.

Scavenger! heart!--and I'll go near to fill that huge tumbrel-slop of yours with somewhat, an I have good luck: your Garagantua breech cannot carry it away so.

Kit. Oh, do not fret yourself thus: never think on't.

Dow. These are my brother's consorts, these! these are his camerades, his walking mates! he's a gallant, cavaliero too, right hangman cut! Let me not live, an I could not find in my heart to swinge the whole gang of 'em, one after another, and begin with him first. I am grieved it should be said he is my brother, and take these courses: Well, as he brews, so shall he drink, for George, again. Yet he shall hear on't, and that tightly too, an I live, i'faith.

Kit.

But, brother, let your reprehension, then, Run in an easy current, not o'er high Carried with rashness, or devouring choler; But rather use the soft persuading way, Whose powers will work more gently, and compose The imperfect thoughts you labour to reclaim; More winning, than enforcing the consent.

Dow. Ay, ay, let me alone for that, I warrant you.

Kit.

How now! [Bell rings.] Oh, the bell rings to breakfast.

Brother, I pray you go in, and bear my wife company till I come; I'll but give order for some despatch of business to my servants.

[Exit Downright. Enter COB, with his tankard.

Kit.

What, Cob! our maids will have you by the back, i'faith, for coming so late this morning.

Cob.

Perhaps so, sir; take heed somebody have not them by the belly, for walking so late in the evening. [Exit.

Kit.

Well; yet my troubled spirit's somewhat eased, Though not reposed in that security As I could wish: but I must be content, Howe'er I set a face on't to the world.

Would I had lost this finger at a venture, So Wellbred had ne'er lodged within my house.

Why't cannot be, where there is such resort Of wanton gallants, and young revellers, That any woman should be honest long.

Is't like, that factious beauty will preserve The public weal of chast.i.ty unshaken, When such strong motives muster, and make head Against her single peace? No, no: beware.

When mutual appet.i.te doth meet to treat, And spirits of one kind and quality Come once to parley in the pride of blood, It is no slow conspiracy that follows.

Well, to be plain, if I but thought the time Had answer'd their affections, all the world Should not persuade me but I were a cuckold.

Marry, I hope they have not got that start; For opportunity hath balk'd them yet, And shall do still, while I have eyes and ears To attend the impositions of my heart.

My presence shall be as an iron bar, 'Twixt the conspiring motions of desire: Yea, every look or glance mine eye ejects Shall check occasion, as one doth his slave, When he forgets the limits of prescription.

Enter Dame KITELY and BRIDGET.