Every Man in His Humour Part 6

BOB. Hang him, rook! he! why, he has no more judgment than a malt-horse. By St. George, I hold him the most peremptory absurd clown (one a them) in Christendom: I protest to you (as I am a gentleman and a soldier) I ne'er talk'd with the like of him: he has not so much as a good word in his belly, all iron, iron, a good commodity for a smith to make hob-nails on.

MAT. Ay, and he thinks to carry it away with his manhood still where he comes: he brags he will give me the bastinado, as I hear.

BOB. How, the bastinado? how came he by that word, trow?

MAT. Nay, indeed, he said cudgel me; I termed it so for the more grace.

BOB. That may be, for I was sure it was none of his word: but when, when said he so?

MAT. Faith, yesterday, they say, a young gallant, a friend of mine, told me so.

BOB. By the life of Pharaoh, an't were my case now, I should send him a challenge presently: the bastinado! come hither, you shall challenge him; I'll shew you a trick or two, you shall kill him at pleasure, the first stoccado if you will, by this air.

MAT. Indeed, you have absolute knowledge in the mystery, I have heard, sir.

BOB. Of whom? of whom, I pray?

MAT. Faith, I have heard it spoken of divers, that you have very rare skill, sir.

BOB. By heaven, no, not I, no skill in the earth: some small science, know my time, distance, or so, I have profest it more for n.o.blemen and gentlemen's use than mine own practise, I a.s.sure you.

Hostess, lend us another bed-staff here quickly: look you, sir, exalt not your point above this state at any hand, and let your poniard maintain your defence thus: give it the gentleman. So, sir, come on, oh, twine your body more about, that you may come to a more sweet comely gentlemanlike guard; so indifferent. Hollow your body more, sir, thus: now stand fast on your left leg, note your distance, keep your due proportion of time: oh, you disorder your point most vilely.

MAT. How is the bearing of it now, sir?

BOB. Oh, out of measure ill, a well-experienced man would pa.s.s upon you at pleasure.

MAT. How mean you pa.s.s upon me?

BOB. Why, thus, sir: make a thrust at me; come in upon my time; control your point, and make a full career at the body: the best-practis'd gentlemen of the time term it the pa.s.sado, a most desperate thrust, believe it.

MAT. Well, come, sir.

BOB. Why, you do not manage your weapons with that facility and grace that you should do, I have no spirit to play with you, your dearth of judgment makes you seem tedious.

MAT. But one venue, sir.

BOB. Fie! venue, most gross denomination as ever I heard: oh, the stoccado while you live, Signior, not that. Come, put on your cloak, and we'll go to some private place where you are acquainted, some tavern or so, and we'll send for one of these fencers, where he shall breathe you at my direction, and then I'll teach you that trick; you shall kill him with it at the first if you please: why, I'll learn you by the true judgment of the eye, hand, and foot, to control any man's point in the world; Should your adversary confront you with a pistol, 'twere nothing, you should (by the same rule) control the bullet, most certain, by Phoebus: unless it were hail-shot: what money have you about you, sir?

MAT. Faith, I have not past two shillings, or so.

BOB. 'Tis somewhat with the least, but come, when we have done, we'll call up Signior Prospero; perhaps we shall meet with Coridon his brother there.

[EXEUNT.]

ACT I. SCENE IV.

ENTER Th.o.r.eLLO, GIULIANO, PISO.

THO. Piso, come hither: there lies a note within, upon my desk; here, take my key: it's no matter neither, where's the boy?

PIS. Within, sir, in the warehouse.

THO. Let him tell over that Spanish gold, and weigh it, and do you see the delivery of those wares to Signior Bentivole: I'll be there myself at the receipt of the money anon.

PIS. Very good, sir.

[EXIT PISO.]

THO. Brother, did you see that same fellow there?

GIU. Ay, what of him?

THO. He is e'en the honestest, faithful servant that is this day in Florence; (I speak a proud word now;) and one that I durst trust my life into his hands, I have so strong opinion of his love, if need were.

GIU. G.o.d send me never such need: but you said you had somewhat to tell me, what is't?

THO. Faith, brother, I am loath to utter it, As fearing to abuse your patience, But that I know your judgment more direct, Able to sway the nearest of affection.

GIU. Come, come, what needs this circ.u.mstance?

THO. I will not say what honour I ascribe Unto your friendship, nor in what dear state I hold your love; let my continued zeal, The constant and religious regard, That I have ever carried to your name, My carriage with your sister, all contest, How much I stand affected to your house.

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

THO. Then (without further ceremony) thus.

My brother Prospero (I know not how) Of late is much declined from 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 was not proud of him: Methought he bare himself with such observance, So true election and so fair a form: 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 innate, Unto the mind, as colour to 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 his first place, that 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 as common as a Mart, A Theatre, a public receptacle For giddy humour, and diseased riot, And there, (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, and dance, and revel night by night, Control my servants: and indeed what not?

GIU. Faith, I know not what I should say to him: so G.o.d save me, I am e'en at my wits' end, I have told him enough, one would think, if that would serve: well, he knows what to trust to for me: let him spend, and spend, and domineer till his heart ache: an he get a penny more of me, I'll give him this ear.

THO. Nay, good brother, have patience.

GIU. 'Sblood, he mads me, I could eat my very flesh for anger: I marle you will not tell him of it, how he disquiets your house.

THO. 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 grief and discontent.

You are his elder brother, and that t.i.tle Confirms and warrants your authority: Which (seconded by your aspect) will 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, rear a huge pile of hate, That in the building would come tottering down, And in her ruins bury all our love.

Nay, more than this, brother; if I should speak, He would be ready in the heat of pa.s.sion, To fill the ears of his familiars, With oft reporting to them, what disgrace And gross disparagement I had proposed him.

And then would they straight back him in opinion, Make some loose comment upon every word, And out of their distracted phantasies, Contrive some slander, that should 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: nay, as sure as death, Thus they would say: and how that I had wrong'd My brother purposely, thereby to find An apt pretext to banish them my house.

GIU. Ma.s.s, perhaps so.

THO. Brother, they would, believe it: so should I (Like one of these penurious quack-salvers) But try experiments upon myself, Open the gates unto mine own disgrace, Lend bare-ribb'd envy opportunity To stab my reputation, and good name.

[ENTER BOBA. AND MAT.]