Every Man Out of His Humour

Edited by Randall Martin

INTRODUCTION

Every Man Out of His Humour was the first of Jonson’s single-authored plays to stir controversy. Its original reception in autumn 1599 was mixed, and this experience decisively shaped the course of Jonson’s future career as a playwright. His previous comedies, The Case Is Altered (1597–8) and Every Man In His Humour (1598), had won him a promising reputation at the Rose and Curtain Theatres respectively (W. D. Kay, 1969–70, 224–9). But while Every Man Out shared a similar title with its immediate predecessor and may have raised theatregoers’ expectations of the same kind of popular Elizabethan comedy, it was a challenging experiment in dramatic form and a theoretical manifesto. The opening performance by the Lord Chamberlain’s Men at the Globe Theatre provoked hostility and may have been censured by court officials (Dutton, 1996a, 70). Faced with such disapproval, Jonson was forced to revise the play’s ending substantially. Yet certain spectators admired the play’s boldness, spurring Jonson to publish an expanded version of Every Man Out – his first play to be printed – and to defend his artistic vision in an appendix which reproduced the original ending. When the play appeared in quarto in April 1600, ‘containing more than hath been publicly spoken or acted’, readers quickly bought it up. Two more editions were sold that year, and Every Man Out began to be appreciatively quoted, imitated, and burlesqued through much of the seventeenth century (Bradley & Adams, 1922; Kerr, 1912, 21–2, 35, 48, 123). The play’s stage-life continued more spasmodically, however, and did not last beyond the Restoration.

These conflicting experiences of theatrical uncertainty and reader esteem impelled Jonson to refashion his public identity as a reforming English dramatist. They also clarified his personal ambitions for literary fame and authorial independence through resistance to the collaborative relationships of professional theatrical production. Though a modern reader now receives the impression of a long, didactic, but sometimes witty and amusing Elizabethan satire, Every Man Out’s double identity as a printed dramatic text and an innovative stage comedy explains the divergent fortunes of its early reception history.

Every Man Out and its original readers

Much of the success of the 1600 quartos was due to the play’s innovative appeal as ‘comical satire’, a phrase which appeared on the title-page to announce a new dramatic structure in a conspicuously literary guise. Topical polemics, such as those circulated in the religious pamphlet wars of the 1580s, rediscovered interest in classical Roman satire, and impatience with the romantic idealism of earlier Elizabethan literature had come together to create a fashion for non-dramatic satire. Every Man Out intensifies the darker tendencies of these trends in being the harshest, most misogynistic, and most Juvenalian of Jonson’s three comical satires (the other two being Cynthia’s Revels (1600) and Poetaster (1601)), notwithstanding the play’s guiding allusions to the milder Roman satirist Horace, including a composite quotation from him in Latin on the title-page. Every Man Out’s aggressive urge to destroy and not merely laugh at eccentrics and misfits (i.e. ‘humours’), and its haughty arrogance towards dissenting spectators, mark a sharp break in tone and attitude from Jonson’s previous work (Kay, 1969–70, 226–9; R. B. Parker, 1977, 43–4; Ostovich, 1986, 69–83). The scholar-poet Asper opens the play brandishing a real or metaphorical whip, lashing the vices and corruptions of his age. His alter ego, the déclassé intellectual Macilente, continues to rage in this vein. He and Asper are two of the play’s four dramatic surrogates for Jonson (the other more distant stand-ins being the bibulous railer, Carlo Buffone, and the philosopher-critic, Cordatus). The play’s main action consists of Macliente intermittently lancing his corrosive envy by conducting a series of humiliating pranks on an assortment of gulls and fools in the course of a single day. Their social transgressions range in seriousness: from the benignly dotty (Puntarvolo’s make-believe chivalric interludes with his wife, and his fanciful gamble on a journey to Constantinople); to the idiotic (Brisk’s and Fungoso’s ludicrous fashion-mongering, Sogliardo’s crass social climbing, Shift’s pathetic huckstering, Deliro’s uxoriousness, Fallace’s lascivious snobbery, and Saviolina’s spurious intellectualism); to the contemptibly anti-social (Sordido’s miserly grain hoarding and patently absurd conversion to social justice).

Readers who bought copies of the original quartos presumably found the virulent drubbing of these humours amusing. Their enthusiasm was confirmed by Robert Allot’s inclusion of seven quotations from the play in his popular anthology, England’s Parnassus, or The Choicest Flowers of Our Modern Poets, published in 1600 while Every Man Out was still in print. By comparison, Every Man In supplied Allot with only two quotations. Both plays were later imitated by Lewis Machin’s Every Woman in Her Humour (1607) and parodied in John Day’s Humour Out of Breath (1607–8). The grasping farmer Sordido was still being vividly recalled by John Taylor the Water poet in 1639 (Bradley & Adams, 1922, 260–1; note to 3.2.0 SD).

The term ‘comical satire’ would have invited comparisons with the recent ban on formal satire ordered by the bishops of Canterbury and London, censors of the press, on 1 June 1599, and the public burning of proscribed books at the Guildhall which followed. Traditionally, scholars have understood this label to imply that Every Man Out was Jonson’s defiant and subversive response to the censors (O. J. Campbell, 1938, vii, 54). This depends partly on interpreting the ban as being directed chiefly against satire, however. As Lynda Boose has recently shown (drawing on previously neglected arguments by Arnold Davenport, editor of various satirical texts of the period), it was directed just as much at new levels of graphically sexualized and scatological content as at personally ‘scourging’ sallies by Hall, Marston, Guilpin, Nashe, and others (Boose, 1994, 185–200). From this perspective, it is notable that Every Man Out is characteristically disdainful towards women but not markedly erotic or scatological, thus suggesting Jonson meant to keep safely away from the blow of the new censorship law. David Riggs further observes that the play’s conspicuous references to ancient and modern writers – largely absent in Jonson’s earlier plays – function defensively by situating his work within a licensed tradition of classical authors, besides also distinguishing Every Man Out as a significant intellectual departure for Jonson as an aspiring literary playwright (1989, 58).

Jonson’s use of the term ‘comical’ also advertises the printed play’s orthodox pedigree, since comedy was traditionally paired with satire. In his classicizing treatise An Apology for Poetry (1595), Philip Sidney recalled Aristotle in defining a morally beneficial use of comedy as the purposeful exposure of common errors and vices to ridicule in order to correct them – a formula Every Man Out cites approvingly by way of Cicero at 3.1.415–17. Yet literary antagonisms of the 1590s and admiration for the more biting classical satirists Martial, Persius, and Juvenal had envenomed the relationship between comedy and satire, as had the malcontent’s fashionable deployment of violent metaphors borrowed from medicine, anatomy, and torture that figure prominently in the speeches of Asper, Macilente, and Carlo. It is tempting to hear their angry, often bitter language as a reflection of the personal dislocation felt by many educated but underemployed and socially powerless early modern writers, such as Jonson at this formative stage of his career (O. J. Campbell, 1938, 15–17; Randolph, 1941, 125–57; Riggs, 1989, 49–62). Professional rivals meanwhile excoriated the play’s alleged lack of satirical discrimination and abandonment of any pretence of ethical reform. King Rufus in Thomas Dekker’s Satiromastix (1601) condemned Horace (i.e. Jonson) as ‘he whose pen / Draws both corrupt and clear blood from all men, / Careless what vein he pricks’ (5.2.343–5; Dramatic Works, ed. Bowers, 1.383). John Weever’s The Whipping of the Satire (1601) complained: ‘had you been but so mean a philosopher as [to] have known mores sequuntur humores [moral behaviour results from observing ‘humours’], you would questionless have made better humours, if it had been but to better our manners, and not, instead of a moral medicine, to have given them a mortal poison’ (A4).

Jonson had pressed the distinctions between satire and comedy in other directions by having another of his spokesmen, the ‘author’s friend’ and choric presenter Cordatus, define Every Man Out as being somewhat like Vetus Comoedia, or Old Comedy. This term refers to ancient Greek comedy, in particular the drama of Aristophanes (Gum, 1969; Ostovich, EMO, 18–28), whose personally coded ‘satyr’ plays differ from the jollier sexual intrigue and situational farce of Roman New Comedy and its Jonsonian heirs, The Case Is Altered and Every Man In His Humour, and also from the wooings-in-disguise marriage plots of Elizabethan romantic comedy, which Cordatus coolly dismisses at 3.1.406ff. The estranging dynamic of Old Comedy further separates Every Man Out from the civic rituals and consensual values of London citizen comedy, even though its laughter at metropolitan follies such as tobacco smoking, outlandish fashions, and jealous merchants is similar (Gibbons, 1980, 57). And despite an abundance of named city sites and nearby towns familiar to contemporary London audiences, most notably Paul’s Walk (3.1), the ‘railing’ tone and unfamiliar dramaturgy of Old Comedy explain why both Cordatus and Macilente/Asper describe Every Man Out as ‘strange’ (i.e. foreign) and therefore challenging to popular tastes of the period (Induction, 225, Appendix B, 97). Jonson captures this dual sense of being both materially close to home and imaginatively far away in describing the London setting of his play as Insula Fortunata or ‘the Fortunate Island’ (Induction, 261 and n.). He similarly described his non-dramatic verse as ‘strange poems, which, as yet, / Had not their form touched by an English wit’ in his ‘Epistle to Elizabeth, Countess of Rutland’ (presented on New Year’s day, 1600; For., 12.81–2), by which he meant the epistolary verse-form modelled on Horace that was relatively new to English readers in the 1590s (Riggs, 1989, 67; Kay, 1995, 38). On the other hand Vetus Comoedia also suggests the completely naturalized comedy of late medieval and early Tudor morality drama, whose (im)morally motivated character-types recall Every Man Out’s singularly obsessed humours (Informations, 410; Nashe, Works, ed. McKerrow, 1.92, 100; Baskervill, 1911, 212; Doran, 1954, 169).

Given its Aristophanic inspiration, commentators have long debated the extent to which the play veils gibes at contemporary figures. Frederick Gard Fleay’s Biographical Chronicle of the English Drama, 1599–1642 (1891, 1.359–62) was typical of older attempts to detect personal identities behind virtually every figure in the play (e.g. Saviolina ‘is’ Elizabeth Cary, despite the fact she was only fourteen years old in 1599). Oscar James Campbell and the Oxford editors, Herford and Simpson, were equally representative of later resistance to seeing much if any personal satire in Every Man Out (O. J. Campbell, 1938, 13–14; H&S, 10.396–406). But searching reconsiderations by Matthew Steggle have partially revised this view by demonstrating Carlo’s connections with the scurrilous jester Charles Chester (Steggle, 1997, 525–6; 1998b, 24–9; 1999, 313–26). Clove, while not actually representing Jonson’s friend and sometime rival John Marston, certainly burlesques his idiosyncratic vocabulary and the mock-intellectual banter of Inns of Court revels, as Helen Ostovich has shown in her Revels edition (EMO, 33–5). Every Man Out’s parody of Marston may have initiated or escalated the so-called War of the Theatres at the turn of the century, as Jonson admitted in conversation with William Drummond (Informations, 216–18; Donaldson, 2001a, 131). But that Jonson does not personalize most of his satirical targets is unsurprising, since Elizabethan censors, like their ancient Roman counterparts, would not have tolerated the kind of personal abuse which characterizes Aristophanes’ highly political satires, as Jonson learnt after being briefly imprisoned for his involvement with Nashe and others in The Isle of Dogs (1597). His retrospective defence at the end of Poetaster, that ‘My books have still been taught / to spare the persons, and to speak the vices’, is in fact more applicable to Every Man Out than to Poetaster itself (Apologetical Dialogue, 82–3).

In his 1616 folio version of the play, Jonson dedicates Every Man Out to members of the Inns of Court, thus identifying the core of his original readership. Brian Parker and Helen Ostovich have argued that a coterie spirit of provocative wit and abrasive ridicule established by Inns-of-Court ‘commonings’ (competitive dialogues reinforcing a shared sense of privileged social and educational belonging) would have made the play’s biting sarcasm seem customary, and directed attention to its self-conscious verbal wit, legal parodies, and academic spoofs (R. B. Parker, 1977, 58; Ostovich, EMO, 28–38). The critical detachment required for such an urbane response is another aspect of Jonson’s revisionist agenda: as Cordatus says, the play hopes to move spectators and readers to ‘distilled’ (i.e. refined, discriminating) laughter. The framing Induction, Prologue, Grex, and the prose descriptions of the Characters in the printed edition all further serve this goal by distancing readers from the myopic perspectives of the gulls, and they cultivate the fiction that their pratfalls are fatally self-inflicted rather than authorially devised. The Inns of Court model of loosely organized verbal exchanges also explains Every Man Out’s almost complete lack of conventional narrative development and closure. Jonson instead describes the play as a ‘maze of humour’ (Appendix B, 97, and note). Marauding satirical aggression seeking to humiliate and wound (to the point of overkill, in the case of Puntarvolo’s Dog) becomes the play’s structural principle, and violent release replaces comic resolution (R. B. Parker, 1977, 57–60). If such forms of entertainment and cultural superiority were familiar and acceptable to the Inns community, they nonetheless created problems when judged by the imaginative expectations and emotional reactions of other members of the Elizabethan theatre-going public.

The 1599 ending

Jonson wrote Every Man Out for the new Globe Theatre, which opened in August or September 1599. The play alludes to Histriomastix at 3.1.148, which the Children of Paul’s revived on 13 November of that year, and was probably first performed sometime that autumn (Ostovich, EMO, 39). A possible allusion to a treason pamphlet issued in early 1599 (discussed below) also suggests that Jonson wrote the play not long afterwards. When Jonson published Every Man Out in April 1600, he included a prose appendix which explained that the ending in the main text was revised after the opening Globe performance. Originally the play had an extra scene and a different ‘catastrophe [i.e. final event in a neutral sense] or conclusion’, in which Macilente advanced to the court ‘with a purposed resolution (his soul, as it were, new dressed in envy) to malign at anything that should front him’. There he encountered Queen Elizabeth, represented by a stage (presumably boy) actor. At this point Jonson’s appendix description modulates into a stage direction:

suddenly, against expectation and all steel of his malice, the very wonder of her presence strikes him to the earth, dumb and astonished. From whence rising, and recovering heart, his passion thus utters itself. (Appendix A, 23–6)

Macilente makes a speech attributing his conversion from malicious envy to the Queen’s sublime virtues. She departs in a flourish of trumpets as the actor playing Macilente, now resuming the role of Asper, joins the Grex (or chorus) figures, Cordatus and Mitis, for a prose epilogue. Asper ends the play with the wish that the audience’s applause will ‘make lean Macilente as fat as Sir John Falstaff’, a final confirmation of Every Man Out’s intermittent allusions to all three recently staged Falstaff plays, Henry Ⅳ Parts One and Two and The Merry Wives of Windsor (instances are recorded in the Commentary, in particular the frequent verbal connections with Merry Wives).

This original conclusion proved to be controversial: ‘many seemed not to relish it’, Jonson reported, referring both to the ‘catastrophe’ and to the impersonation of the Queen by an actor (see Appendix A, 1–2n.). In a brief notice inserted between the character descriptions and the Induction near the beginning of the play, the quarto publisher William Holme (or perhaps Jonson himself) also attested that ‘many censures fluttered about’ the first performance of Every Man Out. But he emphasized that this criticism was not the fault of poor acting by the Chamberlain’s Men, nor was publication meant to ‘traduce’ the author by association with a play that had created an unfavourable public impression.

Why did Every Man Out fail to please certain Globe spectators? The possible answers to this question remain tentative yet are crucial for understanding Jonson’s responses to Every Man Out’s controversial reception at the Globe and his personal investment in its groundbreaking dramaturgy. Assessing the negative reactions generated by the play in performance in relation to its unqualified success with contemporary readers entails comparing the 1599 ending with Jonson’s three revised alternatives: one in the main text of the 1600 quarto (Q), and two more in his 1616 folio edition (F), a total of four distinct versions overall.

The revised quarto and folio endings

In the main (i.e. revised) quarto ending, Macilente is transformed out of his envious and malicious humour after he simply runs out of gulls to humiliate:

Why, here’s a change! Now is my soul at peace.

I am as empty of all envy now

As they of merit to be envied at . . .

(Appendix B, 82–4)

In the course of this dramatically undermotivated speech, Macilente returns to the role of Asper without changing his appearance, and swiftly closes the scene by wafting the ‘vapours’ away. Alone among the four alternative endings, this one reaches out to the ‘happier spirits in this fair-filled Globe’, thanking them for ‘judg[ing] [the play] / . . . with discerning thoughts’ and ‘true notions . . . / . . . of sweet poesy’. Their applause will ‘speak for our desert’ and ‘proclaim / Defiance to rebelling ignorance / And the green spirits of some tainted few’ (Appendix B). In the wake of both adversity and success following the first staging of Every Man Out, Jonson found what was to become the characteristically defiant voice of his dramatic art. Differentiating his work from entertainments ‘seasoned / For every vulgar palate’, he targeted the educated elite associated with the Inns of Court as his future ‘Kind patrons of our sports’.

The folio’s action and dialogue overall are substantially the same as the quarto’s. Jonson makes occasional minor revisions throughout in diction, spelling, and punctuation, and he alters details of prosody, scene division, stage directions, typography, and layout. Together these changes – similar to those in other revised folio plays – serve to monumentalize Every Man Out’s text, transforming it into a literary artefact distanced from its stage origins. They also subsume the play’s individuality as a daring experiment within the folio’s retrospectively classicizing and self-fashioning agenda, a project that enshrines Jonson’s ambitions to raise his stage-works into the category of dramatic literature, and to be recognized as the nation’s pre-eminent poet (Jowett, 1991; Donovan, 1991, 1999; Herendeen, 1991). A notice following the text (Appendix C, pp. 191–2) confirms that the Chamberlain’s Men first acted the play in 1599 and names several of the ‘principal comedians’, including Richard Burbage and John Heminges. (For further discussion of all the early editions and this edition’s choice of copy-text, see the Textual Essay.)

Jonson’s major revision in 1616, however, consisted of two more alternative endings centring on Macilente’s encounter with the Queen. The folio’s main text presents a severely shortened version of the quarto’s first (i.e. Jonson’s 1600 revised) transformation speech, ‘Why, here’s a change!’. It omits the fifty-line address to supportive Globe spectators discussed above. The brief prose dialogue between Macilente and Cordatus and Mitis is retained, however, as is the prose epilogue comparing Macilente and Falstaff, both of which appeared in the quarto’s appendix alternative (i.e. Jonson’s 1599 stage ending). The folio marks this version’s conclusion ‘the end.’ The folio’s main text thus represents a conflated reduction of the alternative endings presented separately in the quarto.

The folio then appends another version of Macilente’s concluding speech (the fourth overall): ‘Which, in the presentation before Queen E[lizabeth], was thus varied by Macilente’. Commentators have assumed this heading refers to an actual court performance. Jonson’s mention of ‘at the first playing’ in the quarto’s appendix implies that further public performances took place after the autumn 1599 opening, as do Macilente’s references to ‘this fair-filled Globe’ in his rewritten concluding speech. But unfortunately no records exist to confirm such public performances, which therefore remain hypothetical, as does a private performance of Every Man Out at court between Christmas and Candlemas 1599–1600. The Declared Accounts record a handsome payment of £30 to John Heminges on behalf of the Chamberlain’s Men for performances on 26 December, 6 January, and 3 February. But, regrettably, the Accounts again do not name any of the plays (Chambers, ES, 4.166). Moreover, Jonson may have temporarily left off writing for the Chamberlain’s Men by this point. Only after the Queen’s death do the Accounts identify Every Man Out at a single court performance on 8 January 1605 (Chambers, ES, 4.172). The folio’s heading could indicate that a version of this speech was indeed delivered at Christmas 1599–1600, or it could refer to the impersonated Queen when Macilente arrived at court in the original ending performed at the Globe. If this is the case, this version of Macilente’s speech may be Jonson’s retrospective attempt to rewrite the offending 1599 catastrophe while still preserving the germ of his original conception. For while it generally follows the staged script reproduced in the quarto’s Appendix, it changes wording in several places to reflect the Queen’s death in 1603 and the folio’s publication in 1616 (i.e. this speech could not have been the actual one used in a 1599–1600 court performance).

In relation to the quarto’s Appendix, this fourth version of the play’s ending is most revealing for what it does not say. It reflects or envisages a different kind of performance event, and perhaps not a live staging at all but an imaginary one. It omits a stage direction calling for Macilente to kneel, the concluding prose dialogue with Cordatus and Mitis, the epilogue, and a final exit direction. Most importantly, it removes any represented presence of or implied personal agency by Elizabeth, since Macilente’s transforming encounter with her at court is cut, as are the quarto’s first four lines which address her. In this speech Macilente does not threaten the court or the monarch, and Jonson removes any implication that she pardons his behaviour and actions. He thus safely distances the Queen’s internal (though metadramatic) involvement, but retains an abstractly legitimizing relationship between Macilente’s (and Asper’s) satirical idiom and the Queen’s authority. As originally conceived, such backing was crucial for the play’s artistic integrity and Jonson’s reputation, as Peter Womack and others observe, because otherwise Macilente’s abusive exposures of affected or transgressive humours remain an arbitrary agenda, without ultimate social foundations or moral responsibility (Womack, 1986, 58–9; W. D. Kay, 1995, 50–1; R. Miles, 1990, 46–50; J. G. Sweeney, 1985, 21–2). In the absence of validation for the play’s harsh satire or any rationale of constructive criticism, Every Man Out cannot fully escape the charge of being rather spitefully self-indulgent.

The original ending in performance

Dekker’s Satiromastix (1601) alleged that Jonson’s comical satires, presumably including Every Man Out, had been ‘misliked at court’ (5.2.325, Dramatic Works, ed. Bowers, 1.383). Macilente’s non-threatening and respectful distance from the Queen in all three revised endings suggests that the nature of the play’s original offence was not merely an over-bold impersonation of Elizabeth directly on stage, but also Jonson’s potentially alarming presentation of intended aggression towards the court by Macilente’s unrestrained malice. Prior to encountering Elizabeth, Macilente commits two unprovoked and topically resonant acts of physical violence. In the first and more significant of these, in 5.1, Macilente unexpectedly produces a cache of poison which he feeds to Puntarvolo’s pet greyhound before kicking the live animal offstage to die. The Dog’s death leads indirectly to the second violent act, in which Macilente abets the torture of Carlo Buffone by Puntarvolo and others as they hold Carlo down and seal his lips with hot wax. (The dialogue in 5.3 could suggest that Macilente holds the candle while Puntarvolo melts the wax.) While the potential seriousness of their assault may have been dispelled comically or farcically in performance, there is little or nothing in the dialogue itself to indicate this kind of affective displacement until after Carlo has been silenced. And as Matthew Steggle has demonstrated, Carlo satirizes a real person, Charles Chester, whose mouth was once sealed up with hard wax to revenge his notoriously aggressive and coarse ridicule (1999, 313–26). Following the converging satirical exposures of the city merchant Deliro, his shrewish wife Fallace, and her foppish lover Brisk, Macilente turns to the court, again in Jonson’s words, ‘with a purposed resolution . . . to malign at anything that should front him’, when he is immobilized by the Queen’s sudden appearance. In the politically sensitive context of the waning years of Elizabeth’s reign, this scenario of a secret poisoner, even one of a pet dog, threatening the Queen’s person but then being redeemed by her, must have appeared ill-advised, and it seems easy to imagine how it could have given rise to ‘many censures’ amongst Globe spectators.

There may also be a topical connection between Macilente’s violence and a real attempt to poison Elizabeth, which was reported and published in the year Jonson wrote Every Man Out. The case began two years earlier, in July 1597, when Edward Squire tried to kill the Queen by secretly applying a deadly poison to the pommel of her saddle. His attempt came to nothing, however, and was not revealed until May 1598, when Squire was captured and confessed to plotting with a Jesuit named Richard Walpole, whom he had met in Spain when he was temporarily held a prisoner there. Squire did not confess to carrying out the deed itself until October. Details of his examinations, subsequent trial, and the conspiracy story were written up in an anonymous pamphlet, now attributed to Francis Bacon, which was officially issued by the Queen’s printer, Christopher Barker, early in 1599:

A Letter written out of England . . . containing a true report of a strange conspiracy, contrived between Edward Squire, lately executed for the same treason as actor, and Richard Walpole a Jesuit, as deviser and suborner, against the person of the Queen’s Majesty.

In a passage that appears verbally to anticipate Jonson’s description of Macilente’s encounter with the Queen (see above and Appendix A), Bacon explains that Squire was convinced by Walpole to undertake the deed because he would not have to confront Elizabeth ‘in presence’, and therefore would not risk being awe-struck by her person:

which I think he [Walpole] spake [to Squire] as having heard that which is very true, of some conspirators, that having undertaken and vowed Her Majesty’s destruction, have nevertheless at the very instant of the access and opportunity, been stricken with astonishment, and had no power to execute their malice. (A3v–A4)

If Jonson recalled Bacon’s report as part of the inspiration for his original ending, he presumably did so in order to stage an exemplary demonstration of the Queen’s transcendent and transforming powers. But by retaining a secret poisoner as the subjugated villain, and by going a step further in having Elizabeth redeem Macliente, Jonson inadvertently added politically ambiguous and historically dangerous resonances to his intended coup de théâtre. It may be more than mere coincidence that John Weever’s Whipping of the Satire described Jonson’s play as ‘mortal poison’ (see passage above).

Squire’s bid to poison the Queen was not the first such attempt, moreover, that might have reminded contemporary spectators indirectly of Macilente. Only five years before, Dr Roderigo Lopez had been tried and executed on similar charges. Besides becoming ‘the most notorious case of Jewish criminality in Elizabethan England’ (J. Shapiro, 1996, 73, and illustration 10), Lopez became a byword for murder-by-poison in legal texts, political histories, and popular crime pamphlets for the next half century. Poisoning itself had long been regarded in England as the most shocking form of homicide. Because it was deliberate and relatively slow to show itself, it defined the offender’s actions legally as malice aforethought. These aggravating factors contrasted with the excuse of hot-bloodedness by which male felons were sometimes acquitted and which, in Every Man Out, might be said to mitigate Puntarvolo’s non-lethal revenge against the drunkenly scurrilous (and, not incidentally in terms of his scapegoat-function, the homoerotically inclined) Carlo. Poisoning was also often denounced as a foreign, particularly Italian, species of crime. Macilente’s name and his not irreproachable reputation as a continental traveller fit the popular English profile of poisoners such as Lopez and Squire.

Enter the Dog. Whither the play?

The extra-dramatic significance of Macilente’s threat to the Queen and its emotional impact in the theatre may also have been galvanized by his earlier aggression towards the Dog (Puntarvolo’s name for his pet greyhound), since the live animal’s role would have been experienced in very different ways by spectators at the Globe, on the one hand, and private readers, on the other. In the printed text, the physical impact of Macilente’s violence is imaginatively distanced: only a single stage direction, ‘Kicks him out’, appears in the quarto, while Macilente’s poisoning is implied by the dialogue (‘I’ll give you a dram shall shorten your voyage’). But in performance spectators would have understood much more than this. In terms of the stage action, they would have seen the character Macilente first reasserting control over an uncertain and perhaps struggling Dog, after the Groom has thrown him off, and then feeding him poison. In real time they would have seen the actor playing Macilente giving the greyhound some kind of treat in order to settle it down, a gesture it would have experienced as an act of kindness. The actor then immediately would have betrayed that gesture by kicking the dog away and exulting in its anticipated death.

Macilente’s duplicity at this moment draws acute attention to the play’s wider bisociation of two independent yet oscillating worlds: natural animal behaviour and the stage illusion of normative human activity (States, 1985, 33). The interplay of these phenomena is one of the most extraordinary – though hitherto under noticed – features of Every Man Out as a theatrical script. In a comic spirit, the Globe’s spectators had begun experiencing this double vision of the Dog’s unpredictable activity as a live animal and his artificial role as a scripted ‘character’ from the moment he first appears in 2.2. The Dog accompanies Puntarvolo for five scenes and is on stage for a remarkable quarter of the play (nearly half of act 2, nearly all of 3.1, 4.3, 4.5, and 5.1). His role is the longest of any live animal on the early modern English stage.

Every Man Out’s verbal dialogue does not make the same kind of comic capital out of the risk of a stage animal stepping outside its fictional role as Shakespeare does brilliantly with Crab in Two Gentlemen of Verona, the only other early modern play with a substantial canine role. But in having a live dog appear at such length, Jonson goes well beyond Shakespeare in experimenting with an audience’s amused anticipation of potential disruption and embarrassment. As Michael Dobson and Bruce Boehrer have each observed, Puntarvolo’s Dog is neither an actor nor a culturally conditioned over-the-top ‘humour’; he constantly threatens to compel the human performers to drop their dramatic roles to restrain natural spurts of waywardness (M. Dobson, 2000, 118–19; Boehrer, 2002, 145). Like the double consciousness created by Elizabethan boy actors such as the Children of Paul’s when they performed adult roles, the Dog introduces a structural element of self-parody to the play by humorously destabilizing the ‘whole enterprise of theatrical illusionism’ (States, 1985, 34). Moreover, while Puntarvolo’s greyhound is on a lead or under some human control throughout Every Man Out, in performance his appearance, gestures, reactions, or non-reactions all provide improvisable opportunities for quick-witted players, whose possibilities exist entirely beyond a playwright’s scripted control. In this regard Richard Beadle notes that the Dog (and perhaps his master, Puntarvolo) are clown’s parts related to an older tradition of impromptu performance closely associated with Will Kemp, the famous comic actor whose recent departure from the Lord Chamberlain’s Men is recalled at 4.5.118 (Beadle, 1994, 12–23; Boehrer, 2000, 271–95). Seen in the light of Jonson’s later campaign to restrict the autonomy of performers and theatre audiences in plays such as Bartholomew Fair, Every Man Out seems a surprising gamble (the magnitude of which Jonson later implicitly acknowledged by scripting much briefer and restricted roles for two live dogs, Block and Lollard, in The Staple of News, 5.4). The real and symbolic risks introduced by the Dog may also partially explain Jonson’s efforts otherwise to control spectators’ reception of his ideas in Every Man Out through the novel device of the choric Grex.

Puntarvolo’s Dog, though largely invisible in the printed dramatic text, inevitably turns into a major character on stage, and for Globe spectators was possibly the most strikingly comic experience of the performance. Depending on how the original audience responded to the Dog, Macilente’s unexpected and callous poisoning arguably clouded the satirical bubble that theoretically neutralized or mediated Every Man Out’s vindictiveness. The Dog’s relationship to an order of reality outside the fictional representations of the play may have inadvertently heightened spectators’ self-conscious awareness of the external significance of a poisoner’s threatened malice towards the Queen (Martin, 2005). The challenge of having a live dog on stage for such a long time and the shock of his untimely end may also explain why Every Man Out has remained unperformed since the late seventeenth century, in addition to conventionally cited reasons that the play is too pedantic, too literary, and its humour too restricted by now obscure cultural squabbles. After 1605 the only other recorded performance was at the Theatre-Royal in July 1675 (see Stage History).

Following Every Man Out’s contested performance at the Globe, Jonson moved to the newly reopened private Blackfriars Theatre to stage his next two comical satires. There the unified social atmosphere differed from the more diverse audiences of the public theatres, which included women, merchants, and servants – all targets of Macilente’s vitriol. Jonson had learnt from the play’s limited validation in performance and greater success in print that the educated, exclusively male, and self-consciously intellectual Inns of Court would be more sympathetic to his socially conservative values and high-minded artistic ambitions. As the revised closing speech by Macilente/Asper in the quarto attests, a targeted Inns-of-Court audience or readership also provided him, partly after the fact, with a conferred sense of privileged superiority to legitimize his satirical project of punishing idiocies of fashion and disordered social mobility. Originally he had envisaged locating this cultural authority in Every Man Out’s closing representation of Elizabeth and her masque-like catharsis of urban affectations, competitive self-promotion, and human pain. But in the absence of her sanction, the self-congratulating aggression of Asper/Macilente remains unpurged at the end of the play, leaving their ‘inward friend the author’ susceptible to moral and social disapproval by his theatre audience (W. D. Kay, 1995, 50). In his next two comical satires, Cynthia’s Revels and, to a lesser degree, Poetaster, Jonson continued to try to remedy this situation, making efforts to shield himself from such vulnerability and to redirect the implicit appeal for royal patronage he had inadvertently miscalculated in the original final scene of Every Man Out.

The Names of the Actors

ASPER: the presenter [and supposed author of the play, who also plays the role of Macilente]
GREX: [Asper’s friends:]
CORDATUS: [Asper’s spokesman] 5
MITIS
[PROLOGUE]
CARLO BUFFONE: [a common jester]
[Carlo’s BOY: his servant]
MACILENTE: [an envious scholar] 10
SOGLIARDO: [a country bumpkin and would-be gentleman, Sordido’s brother]
SORDIDO: [a rich farmer, Sogliardo’s brother, father of Fungoso and Fallace, and father-in-law of Deliro]
HIS HIND: [a farm labourer] 15
FUNGOSO: [an Inns of Court student, Sordido’s son, Fallace’s brother]
[His] TAILOR
[His] SHOEMAKER
[His] HABERDASHER
FASTIDIOUS BRISK: [a courtier, would-be lover of Saviolina] 20
CINEDO: his page
PUNTARVOLO: [a knight]
HIS LADY
[HER] WAITING-GENTLEWOMAN
[HIS] HUNTSMAN: 25
[HIS] SERVINGMEN, TWO
[HIS] DOG: [a live greyhound]
[HIS] CAT: [not a live animal]
DELIRO: [a merchant and moneylender, doting husband of Fallace]
FALLACE: [Deliro’s wife, Fungoso’s sister, and would-be mistress of 30 Brisk]
FIDO: their [Deliro and Fallace’s] servant
SHIFT: [a cavalier and pimp]
CLOVE: [a coxcomb]
ORANGE: [his friend, another coxcomb] 35
RUSTICI: [country people]
SAVIOLINA: [a court lady]
MUSICIANS
[NOTARY]
A GROOM: 40
[TWO] DRAWERS: [at the Mitre Tavern, the elder named GEORGE]
CONSTABLE and OFFICERS: [of the law]
[QUEEN ELIZABETH: portrayed by an actor]

[THE SCENE: INSULA FORTUNATA, THE FORTUNATE ISLAND]

[Characters]

ASPER, his character

He is of an ingenious and free spirit, eager and constant in reproof, without fear controlling the world’s abuses; one whom no servile hope of gain or frosty apprehension of danger can make to be a parasite, either to time, place, or opinion.

MACILENTE 5

A man well-parted, a sufficient scholar, and travelled, who, wanting that place in the world’s account which he thinks his merit capable of, falls into such an envious apoplexy, with which his judgement is so dazzled and distasted that he grows violently impatient of any opposite happiness in another.

PUNTARVOLO 10

A vainglorious knight, over-Englishing his travels and wholly consecrated to singularity; the very Jacob’s staff of compliment; a sir that hath lived to see the revolution of time in most of his apparel. Of presence good enough, but so palpably affected to his own praise that, for want of flatterers, he commends himself to the floutage of his own family. He deals upon returns and strange performances, 15 resolving, in despite of public derision, to stick to his own particular fashion, phrase, and gesture.

CARLO BUFFONE

A public, scurrilous, and profane jester, that, more swift that Circe, with absurd similes will transform any person into deformity. A good feast-hound or banquet-beagle 20 that will scent you out a supper some three mile off, and swear to his patrons (‘God damn me!’) he came in oars when he was but wafted over in a sculler. A slave that hath an extraordinary gift in pleasing his palate, and will swill up more sack at a sitting than would make all the guard a posset. His religion is railing, and his discourse ribaldry. They stand highest in his respect whom he studies most to 25 reproach.

FASTIDIOUS BRISK

A neat, spruce, affecting courtier; one that wears clothes well and in fashion, practiseth by his glass how to salute, speaks good remnants (notwithstanding the bass viol and tobacco), swears tersely and with variety, cares not what lady’s 30 favour he belies or great man’s familiarity. A good property to perfume the boot of a coach. He will borrow another man’s horse to praise and backs him as his own; or, for a need, on foot can post himself into credit with his merchant only with the jingle of his spur and the jerk of his wand.

DELIRO 35

A good doting citizen, who, it is thought, might be of the common council for his wealth. A fellow sincerely besotted on his own wife, and so rapt with a conceit of her perfections that he simply holds himself unworthy of her; and in that hoodwinked humour, lives more like a suitor than a husband, standing in as true dread of her displeasure as when he first made love to her. He doth sacrifice 40 twopence in juniper to her every morning before she rises, and wakes her with villainous out-of-tune music, which she, out of her contempt (though not out of her judgement) is sure to dislike.

FALLACE

Deliro’s wife and idol, a proud mincing peat, and as perverse as he is officious. She 45 dotes as perfectly upon the courtier as her husband doth on her, and only wants the face to be dishonest.

SAVIOLINA

A court lady whose weightiest praise is a light wit, admired by herself and one more, her servant Brisk. 50

SORDIDO

A wretched hobnailed chuff, whose recreation is reading of almanacs, and felicity, foul weather; one that never prayed but for a lean dearth, and ever wept in a fat harvest.

FUNGOSO 55

The son of Sordido, and a student; one that has revelled in his time and follows the fashion afar off, like a spy. He makes it the whole bent of his endeavours to wring sufficient means from his wretched father to put him in the courtier’s cut; at which he earnestly aims, but so unluckily, that he still lights short a suit.

SOGLIARDO 60

An essential clown, brother to Sordido, yet so enamoured of the name of a gentleman that he will have it though he buys it. He comes up every term to learn to take tobacco and see new motions. He is in his kingdom when he can get himself into company where he may be well laughed at.

SHIFT 65

A threadbare shark; one that never was soldier, yet lives upon lendings. His profession is skeldering and odling, his bank Paul’s, and his warehouse Picked-hatch. Takes up single testons upon oaths till doomsday. Falls under executions of three shillings and enters into five-groat bonds. He waylays the reports of services and cons them without book, damning himself he came new from them, 70 when all the while he was taking the diet in a bawdy house or lay pawned in his chamber for rent and victuals. He is of that admirable and happy memory that he will salute one for an old acquaintance that he never saw in his life before. He usurps upon cheats, quarrels, and robberies which he never did, only to get him a name. His chief exercises are taking the whiff, squiring a cockatrice, and making 75 privy searches for imparters.

CLOVE and ORANGE

An inseparable case of coxcombs, city-born; the Gemini or twins of foppery that, like a pair of wooden foils, are fit for nothing but to be practised upon. Being well flattered, they’ll lend money, and repent when they ha’ done. Their glory 80 is to feast players and make suppers; and in company of better rank, to avoid the suspect of insufficiency, will enforce their ignorance most desperately, to set upon the understanding of anything. Orange is the more humorous of the two, whose small portion of juice being squeezed out, Clove serves to stick him with commendations. 85

CORDATUS

The author’s friend, a man inly acquainted with the scope and drift of his plot; of a discreet and understanding judgement, and has the place of a moderator.

MITIS

Is a person of no action, and therefore we have reason to afford him no character. 90

[Advertisement] It was not near his thoughts that hath published this either to traduce the author or to make vulgar and cheap any the peculiar and sufficient deserts of the actors, but rather, whereas many censures fluttered about it, to give all leave and leisure to judge with distinction. 95

[Induction]

Inductio, sono secundo. GREX.

[Enter] ASPER, CORDATUS, [and] MITIS.

CORDATUS

Nay, my dear Asper –

mitis

Stay your mind –

asper

Away!

Who is so patient of this impious world

That he can check his spirit or rein his tongue?

Or who hath such a dead unfeeling sense

That heaven’s horrid thunders cannot wake? 5

To see the earth, cracked with the weight of sin,

Hell gaping under us, and o’er our heads

Black ravenous ruin with her sail-stretched wings

Ready to sink us down and cover us.

Who can behold such prodigies as these 10

And have his lips sealed up? Not I. My soul

Was never ground into such oily colours

To flatter vice and daub iniquity,

But with an armèd and resolvèd hand

I’ll strip the ragged follies of the time 15

Naked as at their birth –

cordatus

Be not too bold.

asper

You trouble me! – and with a whip of steel

Print wounding lashes in their iron ribs.

I fear no mood, stamped in a private brow,

When I am pleased t’unmask a public vice. 20

I fear no strumpet’s drugs nor ruffian’s stab,

Should I detect their hateful luxuries;

No broker’s, usurer’s, or lawyer’s grip,

Were I disposed to say, they’re all corrupt.

I fear no courtier’s frown, should I applaud 25

The easy flexure of his supple hams.

Tut, these are so innate and popular

That drunken Custom would not shame to laugh

In scorn at him that should but dare to tax ’em.

And yet, not one of these but knows his works, 30

Knows what damnation is, the devil, and hell;

Yet hourly they persist, grow rank in sin,

Puffing their souls away in perj’rous air,

To cherish their extortion, pride, or lusts.

mitis

Forbear, good Asper, be not like your name. 35

asper

Oh, but to such, whose faces are all zeal,

And, with the words of Hercules, invade

Such crimes as these, that will not smell of sin,

But seem as they were made of sanctity,

Religion in their garments, and their hair 40

Cut shorter than their eyebrows; when the conscience

Is vaster than the ocean, and devours

More wretches than the Counters –

mitis

Gentle Asper,

Contain your spirit in more stricter bounds,

And be not thus transported with the violence 45

Of your strong thoughts.

cordatus

Unless your breath had power

To melt the world and mould it new again,

It is in vain to spend it in these moods.

ASPER

I not observed this throngèd round till now. –

Gracious and kind spectators, you are welcome. 50

Apollo and the Muses feast your eyes

With graceful objects, and may our Minerva

Answer your hopes unto their largest strain.

Yet here, mistake me not, judicious friends,

I do not this to beg your patience, 55

Or servilely to fawn on your applause

Like some dry brain, despairing in his merit.

Let me be censured by th’austerest brow.

Where I want art or judgement, tax me freely.

Let envious critics with their broadest eyes 60

Look through and through me; I pursue no favour.

Only vouchsafe me your attentions,

And I will give you music worth your ears.

Oh, how I hate the monstrousness of time,

Where every servile imitating spirit, 65

Plagued with an itching leprosy of wit,

In a mere halting fury strives to fling

His ulcerous body in the Thespian spring,

And straight leaps forth a poet, but as lame

As Vulcan or the founder of Cripplegate. 70

mitis

In faith, this humour will come ill to some.

You will be thought to be too peremptory.

asper

‘This humour’? Good, and why ‘this humour’, Mitis?

Nay, do not turn, but answer.

mitis

Answer? What?

asper

I will not stir your patience, pardon me; 75

I urged it for some reasons, and the rather

To give these ignorant well-spoken days

Some taste of their abuse of this word ‘humour’.

cordatus

Oh, do not let your purpose fall, good Asper.

It cannot but arrive most acceptable, 80

Chiefly to such as have the happiness

Daily to see how the poor innocent word

Is racked and tortured.

mitis

Ay, I pray you, proceed.

asper

Ha? What? What is’t?

cordatus

For the abuse of humour.

asper

Oh, I crave pardon, I had lost my thoughts. 85

Why, humour (as ’tis, ens) we thus define it

To be a quality of air or water,

And in itself holds these two properties,

Moisture and fluxure. As for demonstration:

Pour water on this floor, ’twill wet and run; 90

Likewise, the air, forced through a horn or trumpet,

Flows instantly away and leaves behind

A kind of dew. And hence we do conclude

That what soe’er hath fluxure and humidity,

As wanting power to contain itself, 95

Is humour. So in every human body

The choler, melancholy, phlegm, and blood,

By reason that they flow continually

In some one part and are not continent,

Receive the name of humours. Now, thus far 100

It may by metaphor apply itself

Unto the general disposition,

As when some one peculiar quality

Doth so possess a man that it doth draw

All his affects, his spirits, and his powers 105

In their confluxions all to run one way.

This may be truly said to be a humour.

But that a rook in wearing a pied feather,

The cable hatband or the three-piled ruff,

A yard of shoe-tie or the Switzer’s knot 110

On his French garters, should affect a humour,

Oh, ’tis more than most ridiculous.

cordatus

He speaks pure truth. Now, if an idiot

Have but an apish or fantastic strain,

It is his humour.

asper

Well, I will scourge those apes, 115

And to these courteous eyes [Indicating the audience] oppose a mirror

As large as is the stage whereon we act,

Where they shall see the time’s deformity

Anatomized in every nerve and sinew,

With constant courage and contempt of fear. 120

mitis

Asper, I urge it as your friend, take heed:

The days are dangerous, full of exception,

And men are grown impatient of reproof.

ASPER

Ha, ha!

You might as well have told me yond is heaven, 125

This, earth, these, men, and all had moved alike.

Do not I know the times’ condition?

Yes Mitis, and their souls, and who they be

That either will or can except against me.

None but a sort of fools, so sick in taste 130

That they contemn all physic of the mind,

And, like galled camels, kick at every touch.

Good men and virtuous spirits that loath their vices

Will cherish my free labours, love my lines,

And with the fervour of their shining grace 135

Make my brain fruitful to bring forth more objects

Worthy their serious and intentive eyes.

But why enforce I this, as fainting? No,

If any here chance to behold himself,

Let him not dare to challenge me of wrong, 140

For if he shame to have his follies known,

First he should shame to act ’em. My strict hand

Was made to seize on vice, and, with a gripe,

Crush out the humour of such spongy souls

As lick up every idle vanity. 145

cordatus

Why, this is right furor poeticus!

[To the spectators] Kind gentlemen, we hope your patience

Will yet conceive the best, or entertain

This supposition: that a madman speaks.

asper

[Calling to players within] What, are you ready there? – Mitis, sit down, 150

And my Cordatus. [Calling to trumpeters] Sound, ho, and begin! –

I leave you two as censors to sit here,

Observe what I present, and liberally

Speak your opinions upon every scene

As it shall pass the view of these spectators. 155

[Calling within] Nay now, you’re tedious, sirs. For shame, begin! –

And Mitis, note me if in all this front

You can espy a gallant of this mark,

Who, to be thought one of the judicious,

Sits with his arms thus wreathed, his hat pulled here, 160

Cries ‘mew’ and nods, then shakes his empty head,

Will show more several motions in his face

Than the new London, Rome, or Nineveh,

And now and then breaks a dry biscuit jest,

Which, that it may more easily be chewed, 165

He steeps in his own laughter.

cordatus

Why, will that

Make it be sooner swallowed?

asper

Oh, assure you,

Or if it did not, yet as Horace sings,

Jejunus raro stomachus vulgaria temnit,

‘Mean cates are welcome still to hungry guests.’ 170

cordatus

’Tis true, but why should we observe ’em, Asper?

ASPER

Oh, I would know ’em, for in such assemblies

They’re more infectious than the pestilence;

And therefore I would give them pills to purge

And make ’em fit for fair societies. 175

How monstrous and detested is’t to see

A fellow that has neither art nor brain

Sit like an Aristarchus, or stark ass,

Taking men’s lines with a tobacco face

In snuff, still spitting, using his wried looks, 180

In nature of a vice, to wrest and turn

The good aspect of those that shall sit near him

From what they do behold! Oh, ’tis most vile.

mitis

Nay, Asper –

asper

Peace, Mitis, I do know your thought:

You’ll say, your audience will except at this. 185

Pish, you are too timorous and full of doubt.

Then he, a patient, shall reject all physic

’Cause the physician tells him you are sick;

Or, if I say that he is vicious,

You will not hear of virtue. Come, you’re fond. 190

Shall I be so extravagant to think

That happy judgements and composèd spirits

Will challenge me for taxing such as these?

I am ashamed –

cordatus

Nay, but good, pardon us,

We must not bear this peremptory sail, 195

But use our best endeavours how to please.

asper

Why, therein I commend your careful thoughts,

And I will mix with you in industry

To please. But whom? Attentive auditors,

Such as will join their profit with their pleasure, 200

And come to feed their understanding parts.

For these, I’ll prodigally spend myself

And speak away my spirit into air;

For these, I’ll melt my brain into invention,

Coin new conceits, and hang my richest words 205

As polished jewels in their bounteous ears.

But stay, I lose myself and wrong their patience.

If I dwell here, they’ll not begin, I see.

[To Cordatus and Mitis] Friends, sit you still, and entertain this troop

With some familiar and by-conference; 210

I’ll haste them sound. [To the spectators] Now, gentlemen, I go

To turn an actor and a humorist,

Where, ere I do resume my present person,

We hope to make the circles of your eyes

Flow with distillèd laughter. If we fail, 215

We must impute it to this only chance:

‘Art hath an enemy called ignorance.’ Exit.

CORDATUS

How do you like his spirit, Mitis?

mitis

I should like it much better if he were less confident.

cordatus

Why, do you suspect his merit? 220

mitis

No, but I fear this will procure him much envy.

cordatus

Oh, that sets the stronger seal on his desert. If he had no enemies, I

should esteem his fortunes most wretched at this instant.

mitis

You have seen his play, Cordatus. Pray you, how is’t?

CORDATUS

Faith, sir, I must refrain to judge. Only this I can say of it, ’tis strange, 225

and of a particular kind by itself, somewhat like Vetus Comoedia. A work that

hath bounteously pleased me; how it will answer the general expectation, I

know not.

mitis

Does he observe all the laws of comedy in it?

cordatus

What laws mean you? 230

mitis

Why, the equal division of it into acts and scenes, according to the Terentian

manner; his true number of actors; the furnishing of the scene with

Grex or chorus; and that the whole argument fall within compass of a day’s

efficiency.

cordatus

Oh, no, these are too nice observations. 235

mitis

They are such as must be received, by your favour, or it cannot be authentic.

cordatus

Troth, I can discern no such necessity.

mitis

No?

cordatus

No, I assure you, signor. If those laws you speak of had been delivered

us ab initio, and in their present virtue and perfection, there had been 240

some reason of obeying their powers. But ’tis extant that that which we call

comoedia was at first nothing but a simple and continued satire, sung by one

only person, till Susario invented a second, after him Epicharmus a third;

Phormus and Chionides devised to have four actors, with a prologue and

chorus, to which Cratinus, long after, added a fifth and sixth, Eupolis more, 245

Aristophanes more than they. Every man in the dignity of his spirit and

judgement supplied something. And, though that in him this kind of poem

appeared absolute and fully perfected, yet how is the face of it changed since,

in Menander, Philemon, Cecilius, Plautus, and the rest, who have utterly

excluded the chorus, altered the property of the persons, their names, and 250

natures, and augmented it with all liberty according to the elegancy and

disposition of those times wherein they wrote. I see not then but we should

enjoy the same licentia, or free power, to illustrate and heighten our invention

as they did, and not be tied to those strict and regular forms which the

niceness of a few – who are nothing but form – would thrust upon us. 255

mitis

Well, we will not dispute of this now. But what’s his scene?

cordatus

Marry, Insula Fortunata, sir.

MITIS

Oh, the Fortunate Island? Mass, he has bound himself to a strict law there.

cordatus

Why so?

mitis

He cannot lightly alter the scene without crossing the seas. 260

cordatus

He needs not, having a whole island to run through, I think.

mitis

No? How comes it, then, that in some one play we see so many seas,

countries, and kingdoms, passed over with such admirable dexterity?

cordatus

Oh, that but shows how well the authors can travail in their vocation,

and outrun the apprehension of their auditory. But leaving this, I would they 265

would begin once. This protraction is able to sour the best-settled patience

in the theatre.

Sound [trumpets] the third time.

MITIS

They have answered your wish, sir. They sound.

Enter PROLOGUE.

CORDATUS

Oh, here comes the Prologue. – Now, sir, if you had stayed a little

longer, I meant to have spoke your prologue for you, i’faith. 270

prologue

Marry, with all my heart, sir, you shall do it yet, and I thank you.

[He begins to leave.]

CORDATUS

Nay, nay, stay, stay, hear you?

Prologue

You could not have studied to ha’ done me a greater benefit at the

instant, for I protest to you, I am unperfect, and, had I spoke it, I must of

necessity have been out. 275

cordatus

Why, but do you speak this seriously?

Prologue

Seriously? Ay, God’s my help, do I, and esteem myself indebted to

your kindness for it.

cordatus

For what?

Prologue

Why, for undertaking the prologue for me. 280

cordatus

How? Did I undertake it for you?

PROLOGUE

Did you? I appeal to all these gentlemen whether you did or no. Come,

it pleases you to cast a strange look on’t now, but ’twill not serve.

cordatus

’Fore God, but it must serve, and therefore speak your prologue.

Prologue

An I do, let me die poisoned with some venomous hiss and never live 285

to look as high as the two-penny room again. Exit.

MITIS

He has put you to it, sir.

cordatus

’Sdeath, what a humorous fellow is this? [To the spectators] Gentlemen,

good faith, I can speak no prologue, howsoever his weak wit has had the

fortune to make this strong use of me here before you. But I protest – 290

Enter CARLO BUFFONE, with a BOY.

CARLO

Come, come, leave these fustian protestations. Away, come, I cannot

abide these grey-headed ceremonies. Boy, fetch me a glass, quickly; I may bid

these gentlemen welcome, give ’em a health here.

Exit Boy.

I mar’l whose wit ’twas to put a prologue in yond sackbut’s mouth. They

might well think he’d be out of tune, and yet you’d play upon him too. 295

cordatus

Hang him, dull block!

carlo

Oh, good words, good words, a well-timbered fellow, he would ha’ made

a good column an he had been thought on when the house was a-building.

Enter BOY with a glass [and wine].

Oh, art thou come? Well said. Give me, boy, fill. So. Here’s a cup of wine

sparkles like a diamond. Gentlewomen – I am sworn to put them in first – 300

and gentlemen, a round in place of a bad prologue. I drink this good draught

to your health here: canary, the very elixir and spirit of wine. (He drinks.) This

is that our poet calls Castalian liquor, when he comes abroad, now and then,

once in a fortnight, and makes a good meal among players, where he has

caninum appetitum. Marry, at home he keeps a good philosophical diet, beans 305

and buttermilk. An honest pure rogue, he will take you off three, four, five

of these, one after another, and look villainously when he has done, like a

one-headed Cerberus (he do’ not hear me, I hope) and then, when his belly is

well ballast and his brain rigged a little, he sails away withal, as though he

would work wonders when he comes home. He has made a play here, and 310

he calls it ‘Every Man Out of His Humour’. ’Sblood, an he get me out of the

humour he has put me in, I’ll ne’er trust none of his tribe again, while I live.

Gentles, all I can say for him is, you are welcome. I could wish my bottle here

amongst you, but there’s an old rule: ‘no pledging your own health’. Marry,

if any here be thirsty for it, their best way, that I know, is sit still, seal up their 315

lips, and drink so much of the play in at their ear. Exit [Carlo and Boy.]'

MITIS

What may this fellow be, Cordatus?

cordatus

Faith, if the time will suffer his description, I’ll give it you. He is one,

the author calls him Carlo Buffone, an impudent common jester, a violent

railer, and an incomprehensible epicure. One whose company is desired of 320

all men, but beloved of none. He will sooner lose his soul than a jest, and

profane even the most holy things to excite laughter. No honourable or

reverend personage whatsoever can come within the reach of his eye but is

turned into all manner of variety by his adulterate similes.

mitis

You paint forth a monster. 325

cordatus

He will prefer all countries before his native, and thinks he can never

sufficiently, or with admiration enough, deliver his affectionate conceit of

foreign atheistical policies. But stay, observe these. He’ll appear himself

anon.

Enter MACILENTE, solus.

MITIS

Oh, this is your envious man, Macilente, I think. 330

cordatus

The same, sir.

1.1

MACILENTE

Viri est, fortunae caecitatem facile ferre:

’Tis true, but stoic. Where in the vast world

Doth that man breathe that can so much command

His blood and his affection? Well, I see

I strive in vain to cure my wounded soul; 5

For every cordial that my thoughts apply

Turns to a corsive and doth eat it farther.

There is no taste in this philosophy;

’Tis like a potion that a man should drink,

But turns his stomach with the sight of it. 10

I am no such pilled cynic, to believe

That beggary is the only happiness,

Or, with a number of these patient fools,

To sing, ‘my mind to me a kingdom is’,

When the lank hungry belly barks for food. 15

I look into the world, and there I meet

With objects that do strike my bloodshot eyes

Into my brain; where, when I view myself –

Having before observed, this man is great,

Mighty, and feared, that loved and highly favoured, 20

A third thought wise and learnèd, a fourth rich

And therefore honoured, a fifth rarely featured,

A sixth admired for his nuptial fortunes –

When I see these, I say, and view myself,

I wish my optic instruments were cracked, 25

And that the engine of my grief could cast

Mine eyeballs, like two globes of wildfire, forth

To melt this unproportioned frame of nature.

Oh, they are thoughts that have transfixed my heart,

And often, i’the strength of apprehension, 30

Made my cold passion stand upon my face,

Like drops of sweat on a stiff cake of ice.

GREX

CORDATUS

This alludes well to that of the poet,

Invidus suspirat, gemit, incutitque dentes,

Sudat frigidus, intuens quod odit. 35

MITIS

Oh, peace: you break the scene.

1.2 Enter SOGLIARDO, with CARLO BUFFONE.

MACILENTE

Soft, who be these?

I’ll lay me down a while till they be passed. [He lies down.]

GREX

CORDATUS

Signor, note this gallant, I pray you.

MITIS

What is he?

CORDATUS

A tame rook. You’ll take him presently. List. 5

SOGLIARDO

Nay, look you, Carlo, this is my humour now: I have land and money,

my friends left me well, and I will be a gentleman whatsoever it cost me.

CARLO

A most gentlemanlike resolution.

SOGLIARDO

Tut, an I take an humour of a thing once, I am like your tailor’s

needle: I go through. But, for my name, signor, how think you? Will it not 10

serve for a gentleman’s name, when the ‘signor’ is put to it? Ha?

CARLO

Let me hear. How is’t?

SOGLIARDO

‘Signor Insulso Sogliardo’. Methinks it sounds well.

CARLO

Oh, excellent. Tut, an all fitted to your name, you might very well stand

for a gentleman. I know many Sogliardos gentlemen. 15

SOGLIARDO

Why, and for my wealth I might be a justice of peace.

CARLO

[Aside] Ay, and a constable for your wit.

SOGLIARDO

All this is my lordship you see here, and those farms you came by.

CARLO

Good steps to gentility too, marry. But Sogliardo, if you affect to be a

gentleman indeed, you must observe all the rare qualities, humours, and 20

complements of a gentleman.

SOGLIARDO

I know it, signor, and if you please to instruct, I am not too good to learn,

I’ll assure you.

CARLO

Enough, sir – [Aside] I’ll make admirable use in the projection of my

medicine upon this lump of copper here – I’ll bethink me for you, sir. 25

sogliardo

Signor, I will both pay you and pray you, and thank you and think

on you.

GREX

CORDATUS

Is not this purely good?

MACILENTE

[Aside] ’Sblood, why should such a prick-eared hind as this be rich?

Ha? A fool? Such a transparent gull that may be seen through? Wherefore 30

should he have land, houses, and lordships? Oh, I could eat my entrails and

sink my soul into the earth with sorrow!

CARLO

First, to be an accomplished gentlemen, that is, a gentleman of the time,

you must give o’er housekeeping in the country and live altogether in the city

amongst gallants, where, at your first appearance, ’twere good you turned 35

four or five hundred acres of your best land into two or three trunks of apparel

– you may do it without going to a conjurer – and be sure you mix yourself

still with such as flourish in the spring of the fashion, and are least popular;

study their carriage and behaviour in all; learn to play at primero and passage;

and, ever when you lose, ha’ two or three peculiar oaths to swear by, that no 40

man else swears; but above all, protest in your play, and affirm ‘Upon your

credit, as you are a true gentleman’ at every cast. You may do it with a safe

conscience, I warrant you.

SOGLIARDO

Oh, admirable rare! He cannot choose but be a gentleman that has

these excellent gifts. More, more, I beseech you. 45

CARLO

You must endeavour to feed cleanly at your ordinary, sit melancholy, and

pick your teeth when you cannot speak; and when you come to plays, be

humorous, look with a good starched face, and ruffle your brow like a new

boot, laugh at nothing but your own jests, or else as the noblemen laugh;

that’s a special grace you must observe. 50

SOGLIARDO

I warrant you, sir.

CARLO

Ay, and sit o’the stage and flout – provided you have a good suit.

SOGLIARDO

Oh, I’ll have a suit only for that, sir.

CARLO

You must talk much of your kindred and allies.

SOGLIARDO

Lies? No, signor, I shall not need to do so, I have kindred i’the city 55

to talk of. I have a niece is a merchant’s wife, and a nephew, my brother

Sordido’s son, of the Inns of Court.

CARLO

Oh, but you must pretend alliance with courtiers and great persons,

and ever when you are to dine or sup in any strange presence, hire a fellow with a

great chain – though it be copper, it’s no matter – to bring you letters, feigned 60

from such a nobleman or such a knight or such a lady, ‘To their worshipful,

right rare, and noble qualified friend or kinsman, Signor Insulso Sogliardo’

– give yourself style enough; and there, while you intend circumstances of

news, or inquiry of their health, or so, one of your familiars, whom you must

carry about you still, breaks it up, as ’twere in a jest, and reads it publicly at 65

the table; at which you must seem to take as unpardonable offence as if he

had torn your mistress’s colours, or breathed upon her picture; and pursue

it with that hot grace as if you would enforce a challenge upon it presently.

SOGLIARDO

Stay, I do not like that humour of challenge; it may be accepted.

But I’ll tell you what’s my humour now. I will do this: I will take occasion 70

of sending one of my suits to the tailor’s to have the pocket repaired, or so,

and there such a letter as you talk of, broke open and all, shall be left. Oh, the

tailor will presently give out what I am upon the reading of it, worth twenty

of your gallants.

CARLO

But then you must put on an extreme face of discontentment at your 75

man’s negligence.

SOGLIARDO

Oh, so I will, and beat him too. I’ll have a man for the purpose.

MACILENTE

[Aside] You may, you have land and crowns. O partial Fate!

CARLO

Mass, well remembered. You must keep your men gallant at the first: fine

pied liveries laid with good gold lace. There’s no loss in it; they may rip’t off 80

and pawn it, when they lack victuals.

SOGLIARDO

By’r Lady, that is chargeable, signor; ’twill bring a man in debt.

CARLO

Debt? Why, that’s the more for your credit, sir; it’s an excellent policy to

owe much in these days, if you note it.

SOGLIARDO

As how, good signor? I would fain be a politician. 85

CARLO

Oh, look where you are indebted any great sum, your creditor

observes you with no less regard than if he were bound to you for some huge benefit,

and will quake to give you the least cause of offence, lest he lose his money. I

assure you, in these times no man has his servant more obsequious and pliant

than gentlemen their creditors, to whom, if at any time, you pay but a moiety 90

or a fourth part, it comes more acceptedly than if you gave ’em a new-year’s

gift.

SOGLIARDO

I perceive you, sir. I will take up, and bring myself in credit, sure.

CARLO

Marry, this: always beware you commerce not with bankrupts, or poor

needy Ludgathians. They are impudent creatures, turbulent spirits; they care 95

not what violent tragedies they stir, nor how they play fast and loose with a

poor gentleman’s fortunes, to get their own. Marry, these rich fellows that

ha’ the world, or the better part of it, sleeping in their countinghouses, they

are ten times more placable, they. Either fear, hope, or modesty restrains

them from offering any outrages. But this is nothing to your followers. You 100

shall not run a penny more in arrearage for them, an you list, yourself.

SOGLIARDO

No? How should I keep ’em, then?

CARLO

Keep ’em? ’Sblood, let them keep themselves; they are no sheep, are they?

What? You shall come in houses where plate, apparel, jewels, and diverse

other pretty commodities lie negligently scattered, and I would ha’ those 105

mercuries follow me, I trow, should remember they had not their fingers for

nothing.

SOGLIARDO

That’s not so good, methinks.

CARLO

Why, after you have kept ’em a fortnight or so and showed ’em enough to

the world, you may turn ’em away and keep no more but a boy; it’s enough. 110

SOGLIARDO

Nay, my humour is not for boys. I’ll keep men, an I keep any, and

I’ll give coats, that’s my humour. But I lack a cullison.

CARLO

Why, now you ride to the city, you may buy one. I’ll bring you where you

shall ha’ your choice for money.

SOGLIARDO

Can you, sir? 115

CARLO

Oh, ay, you shall have one take measure of you and make you a coat of

arms to fit you of what fashion you will.

SOGLIARDO

By word of mouth, I thank you, signor. I’ll be once a little prodigal

in a humour, in faith, and have a most prodigious coat.

MACILENTE

[Aloud] Torment and death! Break head and brain at once 120

To be delivered of your fighting issue!

Who can endure to see blind Fortune dote thus?

To be enamoured on this dusty turf?

This clod? A whoreson puckfist? O God, God, God, God, etc.

I could run wild with grief now to behold 125

The rankness of her bounties that doth breed

Such bulrushes, these mushroom gentlemen,

That shoot up in a night to place and worship.

CARLO

[To Sogliardo, listening to Macilente] Let him alone, some stray, some stray.

SOGLIARDO

Nay, I will examine him before I go, sure. 130

CARLO

The lord of the soil has all wefts and strays here, has he not?

SOGLIARDO

Yes, sir.

CARLO

Faith, then I pity the poor fellow. [Aside] He’s fallen into a fool’s hands.

SOGLIARDO

[To Macilente] Sirrah, who gave you commission to lie in my lordship?

MACILENTE

Your lordship? 135

SOGLIARDO

How? My lordship? Do you know me, sir?

MACILENTE

I do know you, sir.

CARLO

[Aside] ’Sheart, he answers him like an echo.

SOGLIARDO

Why, who am I, sir?

MACILENTE

One of those that fortune favours. 140

CARLO

[Aside] The periphrasis of a fool. I’ll observe this better.

SOGLIARDO

That fortune favours? How mean you that, friend?

MACILENTE

I mean simply – that you are one that lives not by your wits.

SOGLIARDO

By my wits? No, sir, I scorn to live by my wits, I. I have better means,

I tell thee, than to take such base courses as to live by my wits. ’Sblood, dost 145

thou think I live by my wits?

MACILENTE

[To Carlo] Methinks, jester, you should not relish this well.

CARLO

[Aside] Ha! Does he know me?

MACILENTE

[To Carlo] Though yours be the worst use a man can put his wit to,

of thousands, to prostitute it at every tavern and ordinary, yet, methinks, 150

you should have turned your broadside at this, and have been ready with an

apology able to sink this hulk of ignorance into the bottom and depth of his

contempt.

CARLO

[Aside] ’Sblood, ’tis Macilente! [To Macilente] Signor, you are well encountered.

How is’t? [Aside to Macilente] Oh, we must not regard what he says, man. 155

A trout, a shallow fool. He has no more brain than a butterfly. A mere stuffed

suit. He looks like a musty bottle, new wickered; his head’s the cork, light,

light. [Aloud] I am glad to see you so well returned, signor.

MACILENTE

You are? Gramercy, good Janus.

SOGLIARDO

[Aside to Carlo] Is he one of your acquaintance? I love him the better 160

for that.

CARLO

[Aside to Sogliardo] God’s precious, come away, man, what do you mean?

An you knew him as I do, you’d shun him as you’d do the plague.

SOGLIARDO

[Aside to Carlo] Why, sir?

CARLO

[Aside to Sogliardo] Oh, he’s a black fellow. Take heed on him. 165

SOGLIARDO

[Aside to Carlo] Is he a scholar or a soldier?

CARLO

[Aside to Sogliardo] Both, both. A lean mongrel; he looks as if he were chap-fallen

with barking at other men’s good fortunes. ’Ware how you offend him;

he carries oil and fire in his pen, will scald where it drops; his spirit’s like

powder, quick, violent; he’ll blow a man up with a jest. I fear him worse than 170

a rotten wall does the cannon, shake an hour after at the report. Away, come

not near him.

SOGLIARDO

[Aside to Carlo] For God’s sake, let’s be gone. An he be a scholar, you

know I cannot abide him. I had as lief see a cockatrice, specially as cockatrices

go now. 175

CARLO

[To Macilente] What, you’ll stay, signor? This gentleman Sogliardo and I

are to visit the knight Puntarvolo, and from thence to the city. We shall meet

there.

Exeunt Carlo and Sogliardo.

MACILENTE

[Rises] Ay, when I cannot shun you, we will meet.

’Tis strange. Of all the creatures I have seen, 180

I envy not this Buffoon, for indeed

Neither his fortunes nor his parts deserve it;

But I do hate him as I hate the devil,

Or that brass-visaged monster, Barbarism.

Oh, ’tis an open-throated, black-mouthed cur, 185

That bites at all, but eats on those that feed him;

A slave, that to your face will, serpent-like,

Creep on the ground as he would eat the dust,

And to your back will turn the tail and sting

More deadly than a scorpion. Stay, who’s this? 190

Now, for my soul, another minion

Of the old lady Chance’s. I’ll observe him.

[He watches unobserved.]

1.3 Enter SORDIDO with a prognostication [reading].

SORDIDO

Oh, rare, good, good, good, good, good! I thank my Christ, I thank my

Christ for it.

MACILENTE

[Aside] Said I not true? Doth not his passion speak

Out of my divination? Oh, my senses,

Why lose you not your powers and become 5

Dead, dull, and blunted with this spectacle?

I know him: ’tis Sordido, the farmer,

A boor, and brother to that swine was here.

SORDIDO

Excellent, excellent, excellent! As I would wish, as I would wish.

MACILENTE

[Aside] See how the strumpet Fortune tickles him, 10

And makes him swoon with laughter, ‘oh, oh, oh’!

SORDIDO

Ha, ha, ha! I will not sow my grounds this year. Let me see, what harvest

shall we have? June? July?

MACILENTE

[Aside] What is’t, a prognostication raps him so?

SORDIDO

[Reading]‘The twentieth, twenty-first, twenty-second days, rain and

wind’ – oh, good, good. ‘The twenty-third and twenty-fourth, rain and some

wind’ – good. ‘The twenty-fifth, rain’ – good still. ‘Twenty-sixth, twenty-seventh,

twenty-eighth, wind and some rain’. Would it had been rain and

some wind. Well, ’tis good, when it can be no better. ‘Twenty-ninth inclining

to rain’. Inclining to rain? That’s not so good, now. ‘Thirtieth and thirty-first, 20

wind and no rain’. No rain? ’Slid, stay, this is worse and worse. What says he

of St Swithin’s? Turn back. Look, ‘St Swithin’s’ – no rain?

MACILENTE

[Aside] Oh, here’s a precious, filthy, damnèd rogue,

That fats himself with expectation

Of rotten weather and unseasoned hours,25

And he is rich for it, an elder brother.

His barns are full, his ricks and mows well trod,

His garners crack with store. Oh, ’tis well, ha, ha, ha!

A plague consume thee and thy house!

SORDIDO

Oh, here! ‘St Swithin’s, the fifteenth day, variable weather, for the most 30

part, rain’ – good – ‘for the most part, rain’. Why, it should rain forty days

after now, more or less. It was a rule held afore I was able to hold a plough,

and yet here are two days, no rain. Ha! It makes me muse. We’ll see how the

next month begins, if that be better. ‘August: August first, second, third, and

fourth days, rainy and blustering’. This is well, now. ‘Fifth, sixth, seventh, 35

eighth, and ninth, rain, with some thunder’. Ay, marry, this is excellent; the

other was false printed, sure. ‘The tenth and eleventh, great store of rain’ – oh

good, good, good, good, good! ‘The twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth days,

rain’ – good still. ‘Fifteenth and sixteenth, rain’ – good still. ‘Seventeenth and

eighteenth, rain’ – good still. ‘Nineteenth and twentieth’ – good 40

still, good still, good still, good still, good still! ‘One-and-twentieth, some

rain’. Some rain? Well, we must be patient and attend the heavens’ pleasure. Would it

were more, though. ‘The one-and-twentieth, two-and-twentieth, three-and-twentieth,

great tempest of rain, thunder, and lightning.’

Oh, good again, past expectation good! 45

I thank my blessèd angel. Never, never

Laid I penny better out than this,

To purchase this dear book; not dear for price,

And yet of me as dearly prized as life,

Since in it is contained the very life, 50

Blood, strength, and sinews of my happiness.

Blest be the hour wherein I bought this book,

His studies happy that composed the book,

And the man fortunate that sold the book.

Sleep with this charm, and be as true to me 55

As I am joyed and confident in thee.

Enter a HIND to Sordido with a paper.

MACILENTE

[Aside] Ha, ha, ha! Is not this good? Is’t not pleasing, this?

Ha, ha! God’s – ha!

Is’t possible that such a spacious villain

Should live and not be plagued? Or lies he hid 60

Within the wrinkled bosom of the world

Where heaven cannot see him? ’Sblood, methinks

’Tis rare and admirable that he should breathe and walk,

Feed with digestion, sleep, enjoy his health,

And, like a boisterous whale swallowing the poor, 65

Still swim in wealth and pleasure. Is’t not strange?

Unless his house and skin were thunder-proof,

I wonder at it. Methinks now, the hectic,

Gout, leprosy, or some such loathed disease

Might light upon him, or that fire from heaven 70

Might fall upon his barns, or mice and rats

Eat up his grain, or else that it might rot

Within the hoary ricks, e’en as it stands.

Methinks this might be well, and after all

The devil might come and fetch him. Ay, ’tis true. 75

Meantime he surfeits in prosperity,

And thou, in envy of him, gnaw’st thyself.

Peace, fool, get hence, and tell thy vexèd spirit,

‘Wealth in this age will scarcely look on merit.’ Exit.

SORDIDO

Who brought this same, sirrah? 80

hind

Marry, sir, one of the justice’s men; he says ’tis a precept, and all their

hands be at it.

SORDIDO

Ay, and the prints of them stick in my flesh

Deeper than i’their letters. They have sent me

Pills wrapped in paper here that, should I take ’em, 85

Would poison all the sweetness of my book

And turn my honey into hemlock juice.

But I am wiser than to serve their precepts

Or follow their prescriptions. Here’s a device

To charge me bring my grain unto the markets. 90

Ay, much! When I have neither barn nor garner

Nor earth to hide it in, I’ll bring it, but till then,

Each corn I send shall be as big as Paul’s.

Oh, but (say some) the poor are like to starve.

Why, let ’em starve; what’s that to me? Are bees 95

Bound to keep life in drones and idle moths? No.

Why, such as these that term themselves the poor,

Only because they would be pitied,

But are indeed a sort of lazy beggars,

Licentious rogues and sturdy vagabonds, 100

Bred by the sloth of a fat plenteous year

Like snakes in heat of summer out of dung,

And this is all that these cheap times are good for;

Whereas a wholesome and penurious dearth

Purges the soil of such vile excrements, 105

And kills the vipers up.

HIND

Oh, but master,

Take heed they hear you not.

SORDIDO

Why so?

HIND

They will exclaim against you.

SORDIDO

Ay, their exclaims

Move me as much as thy breath moves a mountain.

Poor worms, they hiss at me, whilst I at home 110

Can be contented to applaud myself,

To sit and clap my hands and laugh and leap,

Knocking my head against my roof with joy

To see how plump my bags are and my barns.

Sirrah, go, hie you home, and bid your fellows 115

Get all their flails ready again’ I come.

HIND

I will, sir. Exit Hind.

SORDIDO

I’ll instantly set all my hinds to thrashing

Of a whole rick of corn, which I will hide

Under the ground, and with the straw thereof 120

I’ll stuff the outsides of my other mows.

That done, I’ll have ’em empty all my garners

And i’the friendly earth bury my store,

That, when the searchers come, they may suppose

All’s spent and that my fortunes were belied. 125

And to lend more opinion to my want,

And stop that many-mouthèd vulgar dog

Which else would still be baying at my door,

Each market day I will be seen to buy

Part of the purest wheat, as for my household, 130

Where, when it comes, it shall increase my heaps.

’twill yield me treble gain at this dear time,

Promised in this dear book. I have cast all.

Till then I will not sell an ear. I’ll hang first.

Oh, I shall make my prizes as I list! 135

My house and I can feed on peas and barley.

What though a world of wretches starve the while?

‘He that will thrive must think no courses vile.’ Exit.

GREX

CORDATUS

Now, signor, how approve you this? Have the humorists expressed

themselves truly or no? 140

MITIS

Yes, if it be well prosecuted. ’Tis hitherto happy enough. But methinks

Macilente went hence too soon. He might have been made to stay and speak

somewhat in reproof of Sordido’s wretchedness, now at the last.

CORDATUS

Oh, no, that had been extremely improper. Besides, he had continued

the scene too long with him as ’twas, being in no more action. 145

MITIS

You may enforce the length as a necessary reason, but for propriety the

scene would very well have borne it, in my judgement.

CORDATUS

Oh, worst of both. Why, you mistake his humour utterly, then.

MITIS

How? Do I mistake it? Is’t not envy?

CORDATUS

Yes, but you must understand, signor, he envies him not as he is a 150

villain, a wolf i’the commonwealth, but as he is rich and fortunate; for the

true condition of envy is dolor alienae felicitatis: to have our eyes continually

fixed upon another man’s prosperity – that is, his chief happiness – and to

grieve at that. Whereas if we make his monstrous and abhorred actions our

object, the grief we take then comes nearer the nature of hate than envy, as 155

being bred out of a kind of contempt and loathing in ourselves.

MITIS

So you’ll infer it had been hate, not envy in him, to reprehend the humour

of Sordido?

CORDATUS

Right, for what a man truly envies in another he could always love

and cherish in himself; but no man truly reprehends in another what he loves 160

in himself, therefore reprehension is out of his hate. And this distinction hath

he himself made in a speech there, if you marked it, where he says ‘I envy not

this Buffoon, but I hate him’.

MITIS

Stay, sir: ‘I envy not this Buffoon, but I hate him’. Why might he not as

well have hated Sordido as him? 165

CORDATUS

No, sir, there was subject for his envy in Sordido: his wealth. So was

there not in the other; he stood possessed of no one eminent gift, but a most

odious and fiend-like disposition that would turn charity itself into hate,

much more envy for the present.

2.1 Enter CARLO BUFFONE, SOGLIARDO, FASTIDIOUS BRISK, [and] CINEDO.

MITIS

You have satisfied me, sir. Oh, here comes the fool and the jester again,

methinks.

CORDATUS

’Twere pity they should be parted, sir.

MITIS

What bright-shining gallant’s that with them? The knight they went to?

CORDATUS

No, sir, this is one Monsieur Fastidious Brisk, otherwise called the 5

fresh Frenchified courtier.

MITIS

A humourist too?

CORDATUS

As humorous as quicksilver. Do but observe him. The scene is the

country still, remember.

FASTIDIOUS

Cinedo, watch when the knight comes, and give us word. 10

CINEDO

I will, sir. Exit.

FASTIDIOUS

How lik’st thou my boy, Carlo?

CARLO

Oh, well, well. He looks like a colonel of the pygmies’ horse, or one of these

motions in a great antique clock. He would show well upon a haberdasher’s

stall at a corner shop, rarely. 15

FASTIDIOUS

’Sheart, what a damned witty rogue’s this! How he confounds with

his similes!

CARLO

Better with similes than smiles. And whither were you riding now, signor?

FASTIDIOUS

Who, I? What a silly jest’s that? Whither should I ride but to the

court? 20

CARLO

Oh, pardon me, sir, twenty places more: your hot-house, or your –

FASTIDIOUS

By the virtue of my soul, this knight dwells in Elysium here.

CARLO

[Aside] He’s gone now; I thought he would fly out presently. These be our

nimble-sprited catsos that ha’ their evasions at pleasure, will run over a bog

like your wild Irish; no sooner started, but they’ll leap from one thing to 25

another like a squirrel – hey! – dance and do tricks i’their discourse, from fire

to water, from water to air, from air to earth, as if their tongues did but e’en

lick the four elements over, and away.

FASTIDIOUS

Sirrah Carlo, thou never saw’st my grey hobby yet, didst thou?

CARLO

No, ha’ you such a one? 30

FASTIDIOUS

The best in Europe, my good villain, thou’lt say when thou see’st

him.

CARLO

But when shall I see him?

FASTIDIOUS

There was a nobleman in the court offered me one hundred pound

for him, by this light. A fine little fiery slave, he runs like a – oh, excellent, 35

excellent! – with the very sound of the spur.

CARLO

How? The sound of the spur?

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, it’s your only humour now extant, sir. A good jingle, a good

jingle.

CARLO

[To Sogliardo] ’Sblood, you shall see him turn morris-dancer. He has got 40

him bells, a good suit, and a hobby-horse.

SOGLIARDO

[To Fastidious] Signor, now you talk of a hobby-horse, I know where

one is, will not be given for a brace of angels.

FASTIDIOUS

How is that, sir?

SOGLIARDO

Marry, sir, I am telling this gentleman of a hobby-horse. It was my 45

father’s indeed, and, though I say it –

CARLO

That should not say it. On, on.

SOGLIARDO

– He did dance in it with as good humour and as good regard as

any man of his degree whatsoever, being no gentleman. I have danced in it

myself too. 50

CARLO

Not since the humour of gentility was upon you, did you?

SOGLIARDO

Yes once; marry, that was but to show what a gentleman might do

in a humour.

CARLO

Oh, very good.

GREX

MITIS

Why, this fellow’s discourse were nothing but for the word humour. 55

CORDATUS

Oh, bear with him, an he should lack matter and words too, ’twere

pitiful.

SOGLIARDO

Nay, look you, sir, there’s ne’er a gentleman i’the country has the like

humours for the hobby-horse as I have. I have the method for the threading

of the needle, the – 60

CARLO

How, the method?

SOGLIARDO

Ay, the legerity for that, and the wehee, and the daggers in the nose,

and the travels of the egg from finger to finger – all the humours incident

to the quality. The horse hangs at home in my parlour. I’ll keep it for a

monument, as long as I live, sure. 65

CARLO

Do so, and when you die, ’twill be an excellent trophy to hang over your

tomb.

SOGLIARDO

Mass, and I’ll have a tomb, now I think on’t; ’tis but so much charges.

CARLO

Best build it in your lifetime, then; your heirs may hap to forget it else.

SOGLIARDO

Nay, I mean so, I’ll not trust to them. 70

carlo

No, for heirs and executors are grown damnably careless, specially since

the ghosts of testators left walking. [Aside to Fastidious] How like you him,

signor?

FASTIDIOUS

[Aside to Carlo] ’Fore heavens, his humour arrides me exceedingly.

CARLO

[Aside to Fastidious] ‘Arrides’ you? 75

FASTIDIOUS

[Aside to Carlo] Ay, pleases me. A pox on’t! I am so haunted at the court

and at my lodging with your refined choice spirits that it makes me

clean of another garb, another strain, I know not how. I cannot frame me to

your harsh vulgar phrase. ’Tis against my genius.

SOGLIARDO

Signor Carlo. [He talks to Carlo privately.] 80

GREX

CORDATUS

This is right to that of Horace: Dum vitant stulti vitia in contraria currunt.

So this gallant, labouring to avoid popularity, falls into a habit of affectation

ten thousand times more hateful than the former.

CARLO

[Aside to Sogliardo, indicating Fastidious] Who, he? A gull, a fool, no salt in

him i’the earth, man. He looks like a fresh salmon kept in a tub, he’ll be spent 85

shortly. His brain’s lighter than his feather already, and his tongue more

subject to lie than that’s to wag. He sleeps with a musk-cat every night, and

walks all day hanged in pomander chains for penance. He has his skin tanned

in civet to make his complexion strong and the sweetness of his youth lasting

in the sense of his sweet lady. A good empty puff, he loves you well, signor. 90

SOGLIARDO

[Aside to Carlo] There shall be no love lost, sir, I’ll assure you.

FASTIDIOUS

Nay, Carlo, I am not happy i’thy love, I see. Prithee suffer me to

enjoy thy company a little, sweet mischief. By this air, I shall envy this gentleman’s

place in thy affections, if you be thus private, i’faith.

Enter CINEDO.

How now, is the knight arrived? 95

CINEDO

No, sir. But ’tis guessed he will arrive presently, by his forerunners.

FASTIDIOUS

His hounds! By Minerva, an excellent figure, a good boy.

CARLO

You should give him a French crown for it; the boy would find two better

figures i’that, and a good figure of your bounty beside.

FASTIDIOUS

Tut, the boy wants no crowns. 100

CARLO

No crown. Speak i’the singular number, and we’ll believe you.

FASTIDIOUS

Nay, thou art so capriciously conceited now. Sirrah –

[Aside] damnation! – I have heard this knight, Puntarvolo, reported to be a gentleman

of exceeding good humour. Thou know’st him; prithee, how is his

disposition? I ne’er was so favoured of my stars as to see him yet. [To Cinedo] 105

Boy, do you look to the hobby?

CINEDO

Ay, sir, the groom has set him up.

FASTIDIOUS

’Tis well.

[Sogliardo talks aside with Cinedo.]

[To Carlo] I rid out of my way of intent to visit him, and take knowledge of his

– nay, good wickedness! – his humour, his humour. 110

CARLO

Why, he loves dogs, and hawks, and his wife well. He has a good riding

face, and he can sit a great horse. He will taint a staff well at tilt. When he is

mounted, he looks like the sign of the George, that’s all I know, save that,

instead of a dragon, he will brandish against a tree, and break his sword as

confidently upon the knotty bark as the other did upon the scales of the beast. 115

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, but this is nothing to that’s delivered of him. They say he has

dialogues and discourses between his horse, himself, and his Dog, and that

he will court his own lady as she were a stranger never encountered before.

CARLO

Ay, that he will, and make fresh love to her every morning.

[Indicating Sogliardo, talking to Cinedo] This gentleman has been a spectator of it.120

[To Sogliardo] Signor Insulso!

SOGLIARDO

[To Cinedo] I am resolute to keep a page – [To Carlo] say you, sir?

CARLO

You have seen Signor Puntarvolo accost his lady?

SOGLIARDO

Oh, ay, sir.

FASTIDIOUS

And how is the manner of it, prithee, good signor? 125

SOGLIARDO

Faith, sir, in very good sort. He has his humours for it, sir; as first,

suppose he were now to come from riding or hunting or so, he has his

trumpet to sound, and then the waiting gentlewoman she looks out, and

then he speaks, and then she speaks. Very pretty, i’faith, gentlemen.

FASTIDIOUS

Why, but do you remember no particulars, signor? 130

SOGLIARDO

Oh, yes, sir. First, the gentlewoman she looks out at the window.

CARLO

After the trumpet has summoned a parle? Not before?

SOGLIARDO

No sir, not before, and then says he – ha, ha, ha, ha! (etc.).

CARLO

What says he? Be not rapt so.

SOGLIARDO

Says he – ha, ha, ha, ha! (etc.). 135

FASTIDIOUS

Nay, speak, speak.

SOGLIARDO

Ha, ha, ha – says he, ‘God save you’ – ha, ha! (etc.).

CARLO

Was this the ridiculous motive to all this passion?

SOGLIARDO

Nay, that, that comes after, is – ha, ha, ha, ha! (etc.).

CARLO

Doubtless he apprehends more than he utters, this fellow, or else – 140

A cry of hounds within.

SOGLIARDO

List, list! They are come from hunting. Stand by, close under this

terrace, and you shall see it done better than I can show it.

CARLO

So it had need. ’Twill scarce poise the observation else.

SOGLIARDO

Faith, I remember all, but the manner of it is quite out of my head.

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, withdraw, withdraw! It cannot be but a most pleasing object. 145

[They move away to watch unobserved.]

2.2 Enter PUNTARVOLO, a HUNTSMAN with [a horn, and the DOG,] a greyhound.

PUNTARVOLO

Forester, give wind to thy horn. [The Huntsman blows his horn.]

Enough! By this, the sound hath touched the ears of the enclosed. Depart,

leave the Dog, and take with thee what thou hast deserved, the horn, and

thanks. [Exit Huntsman.]

CARLO

Ay, marry, there’s some taste in this. 5

FASTIDIOUS

Is’t not good?

SOGLIARDO

Ah, peace. Now above, now above!

The WAITING-GENTLEWOMAN appears at the window.

PUNTARVOLO

Stay! Mine eye hath, on the instant, through the bounty of the

window, received the form of a nymph. I will step forward three paces, of the

which I will barely retire one; and, after some little flexure of the knee, with 10

an erected grace, salute her. [He takes steps.] One, two, and three.

[He steps back and kneels.] Sweet lady, God save you.

GENTLEWOMAN

No, forsooth, I am but the waiting gentlewoman.

CARLO

He knew that before.

PUNTARVOLO

Pardon me: humanum est errare. 15

CARLO

He learned that of a puritan.

PUNTARVOLO

To the perfection of compliment (which is the dial of the thought ,

and guided by the sun of your beauties) are required these three projects: the

gnomon, the puntilios, and the superficies. The superficies is that we call ‘place’;

the puntilios, ‘circumstance’; and the gnomon, ‘ceremony’. In either of which, 20

for a stranger to err, ’tis easy and facile, and such am I.

CARLO

True, not knowing her horizon, he must needs err, which I fear he knows

too well.

PUNTARVOLO

What call you the lord of the castle, sweet face?

GENTLEWOMAN

The lord of the castle is a knight, sir: Signor Puntarvolo. 25

PUNTARVOLO

Puntarvolo? Oh.

CARLO

Now must he ruminate.

FASTIDIOUS

Does the wench know him all this while, then?

CARLO

Oh, do you know me, man? Why, therein lies the syrup of the jest. It’s a

project, a designment of his own, a thing studied and rehearsed as ordinarily 30

at his coming from hawking or hunting, as a jig after a play.

SOGLIARDO

Ay, e’en like your jig, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

’Tis a most sumptuous and stately edifice. What years is the

knight, fair damsel?

GENTLEWOMAN

Faith, much about your years, sir. 35

puntarvolo

What complexion, or what stature, bears he?

GENTLEWOMAN

Of your stature, and very near upon your complexion.

PUNTARVOLO

Mine is melancholy –

CARLO

So is the Dog’s, just.

PUNTARVOLO

– And doth argue constancy, chiefly in love. What are his 40

endowments? Is he courteous?

GENTLEWOMAN

Oh, the most courteous knight upon God’s earth, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

Is he magnanimous?

GENTLEWOMAN

As the skin between your brows, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

Is he bountiful? 45

CARLO

’Sblood, he takes an inventory of his own good parts!

GENTLEWOMAN

Bountiful? Ay, sir, I would you should know it; the poor are

served at his gate early and late, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

Is he learned?

GENTLEWOMAN

Oh, ay, sir, he can speak the French and Italian. 50

PUNTARVOLO

Then, he is travelled?

GENTLEWOMAN

Ay, forsooth, he hath been beyond-sea once or twice.

CARLO

As far as Paris, to fetch over a fashion and come back again.

PUNTARVOLO

Is he religious?

GENTLEWOMAN

Religious? I know not what you call religious, but he goes to 55

church, I am sure.

FASTIDIOUS

’Slid, methinks these answers should offend him.

CARLO

Tut, no. He knows they are excellent, and to her capacity that speaks ’em.

PUNTARVOLO

Would I might see his face.

CARLO

She should let down a glass from the window at that word, and request 60

him to look in’t.

PUNTARVOLO

Doubtless, the gentleman is most exact and absolutely qualified.

Doth the castle contain him?

GENTLEWOMAN

No, sir, he is from home, but his lady is within.

PUNTARVOLO

His lady? What, is she fair? Splendidious? And amiable? 65

gentlewoman

Oh, Jesu, sir!

PUNTARVOLO

Prithee, dear nymph, entreat her beauties to shine on this

side of the building. Exit Gentlewoman from the window.

CARLO

That he may erect a new dial of compliment, with his gnomons and his

puntilios. 70

FASTIDIOUS

Nay, thou art such another cynic now; a man had need walk

uprightly before thee.

CARLO

Heart, can any man walk more upright than he does? Look, look: as if he

went in a frame, or had a suit of wainscot on, and the Dog watching him lest

he should leap out on’t. 75

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, villain!

CARLO

Well, an e’er I meet him in the city, I’ll ha’ him jointed. I’ll pawn him in

Eastcheap among butchers else.

FASTIDIOUS

Peace! Who be these, Carlo?

Enter SORDIDO, with his son FUNGOSO. [Carlo, Fastidious, and Sogliardo continue to watch, unobserved.]

SORDIDO

[To Fungoso] Yonder’s your godfather; do your duty to him, son. 80

SOGLIARDO

[To Fastidious, indicating Sordido] This, sir? A poor elder brother of

mine, sir, a yeoman, may dispend some seven or eight hundred a year. That’s

his son, my nephew, there.

PUNTARVOLO

You are not ill-come, neighbour Sordido, though I have not yet

said welcome. What, my godson is grown a great proficient by this! 85

SORDIDO

I hope he will grow great one day, sir.

FASTIDIOUS

What does he study? The law?

SOGLIARDO

Ay, sir, he is a gentleman, though his father be but a yeoman.

CARLO

What call you your nephew, signor?

SOGLIARDO

Marry, his name is Fungoso. 90

CARLO

Fungoso? Oh, he looked somewhat like a sponge in that pinked doublet,

methought. Well, make much of him; I see he was never born to ride upon a

mule.

Enter [the WAITING-] GENTLEWOMAN above.

GENTLEWOMAN

My lady will come presently, sir.

SOGLIARDO

Oh, now, now. 95

PUNTARVOLO

Stand by, retire yourselves a space. Nay, pray you, forget not the

use of your hat. The air is piercing.

Sordido and Fungoso withdraw at the other part of the stage; meantime the LADY is come to the window.

FASTIDIOUS

What? Will not their presence prevail against the current of his

humour?

CARLO

Oh, no, it’s a mere flood, a torrent, carries all afore it. 100

PUNTARVOLO

What more than heavenly pulchritude is this?

What magazine or treasury of bliss?

Dazzle, you organs to my optic sense,

To view a creature of such eminence.

Oh, I am planet-struck, and in yond sphere 105

A brighter star than Venus doth appear!

FASTIDIOUS

How? In verse?

CARLO

An ecstasy, an ecstasy, man!

PUNTARVOLO’S LADY

Is your desire to speak with me, sir knight?

CARLO

He will tell you that anon; neither his brain nor his body are yet moulded 110

for an answer.

PUNTARVOLO

Most debonair and luculent lady, I decline me as low as the basis

of your altitude. [He bows to her.]

GREX

CORDATUS

He makes congees to his wife in geometrical proportions.

MITIS

Is’t possible there should be any such humourist? 115

CORDATUS

Very easily possible, sir. You see there is.

PUNTARVOLO

I have scarce collected my spirits, but lately scattered in the admiration

of your form; to which, if the bounties of your mind be any way

responsible, I doubt not but my desires shall find a smooth and secure passage.

I am a poor knight-errant, lady, that, hunting in the adjacent forest, 120

was by adventure in the pursuit of a hart brought to this place; which hart,

dear madam, escaped by enchantment. The evening approaching, myself

and servant wearied, my suit is to enter your fair castle and refresh me.

PUNTARVOLO’S LADY

Sir knight, albeit it be not usual with me, chiefly in the

absence of a husband, to admit any entrance to strangers, yet in the true 125

regard of those innated virtues and fair parts which so strive to express

themselves in you, I am resolved to entertain you to the best of my unworthy

power, which I acknowledge to be nothing, valued with what so worthy a

person may deserve. Please you but stay, while I descend.

She departs [with her Waiting-Gentlewoman], and Puntarvolo falls in with Sordido and his son [Fungoso].

PUNTARVOLO

Most admired lady, you astonish me. 130

CARLO

What? With speaking a speech of your own penning?

FASTIDIOUS

Nay, look! Prithee, peace.

CARLO

Pox on’t, I am impatient of such foppery.

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, let’s hear the rest.

CARLO

What? A tedious chapter of courtship, after Sir Lancelot and Queen 135

Guinevere? Away! I mar’l in what dull cold nook he found this lady out,

that, being a woman, she was blessed with no more copy of wit but to serve

his humour thus. ’Sblood, I think he feeds her with porridge, I; she could

ne’er have such a thick brain else.

SOGLIARDO

Why, is porridge so hurtful, signor? 140

CARLO

Oh, nothing under heaven more prejudicial to those ascending subtle

powers, or doth sooner abate that which we call acumen ingenii, than your

gross fare. Why, I’ll make you an instance: your city wives, but observe ’em.

You ha’ not more perfect true fools i’the world bred than they are generally;

and yet you see, by the fineness and delicacy of their diet – diving into the fat 145

capons, drinking your rich wines, feeding on larks, sparrows, potato-pies,

and such good unctuous meats – how their wits are refined and rarefied; and

sometimes a very quintessence of conceit flows from ’em, able to drown a

weak apprehension.

FASTIDIOUS

Peace, here comes the lady. 150

Enter [below, PUNTARVOLO’S] LADY with her [WAITING]- GENTLEWOMAN.

PUNTARVOLO’S LADY

God’s me, here’s company! Turn in again.

And seeing them, turns in again.

FASTIDIOUS

’Slight, our presence has cut off the convoy of the jest.

CARLO

All the better. I am glad on’t, for the issue was very perspicuous. Come,

let’s discover, and salute the knight.

Carlo and the other two [Fastidious and Sogliardo] step forth to Puntarvolo.

PUNTARVOLO

Stay, who be these that address themselves towards us? What, 155

Carlo? Now by the sincerity of my soul, welcome! [To Fastidious and Sogliardo]

Welcome, gentlemen. And how dost thou, thou grand scourge, or second

untruss of the time?

CARLO

Faith, spending my mettle in this reeling world, here and there, as

the sway of my affection carries me, and perhaps stumble upon a yeoman 160

fewterer, as I do now, or one of fortune’s mules laden with treasure, and an

empty cloak-bag following him, gaping when a bag will untie.

PUNTARVOLO

Peace, you bandog, peace! [Indicating Fastidious] What brisk

nymphadoro is that in the white virgin boot there?

CARLO

Marry, sir, one that I must entreat you take a very particular knowledge 165

of, and with more than ordinary respect: Monsieur Fastidious.

PUNTARVOLO

[To Fastidious] Sir, I could wish that for the time of your vouchsafed

abiding here, and more real entertainment, this my house stood on the muses’

hill, and these my orchards were those of the Hesperides.

FASTIDIOUS

I possess as much in your wish, sir, as if I were made lord of the 170

Indies, and I pray you believe it.

CARLO

[Aside] I have a better opinion of his faith than to think it will be so

corrupted.

SOGLIARDO

[To Sordido] Come, brother, I’ll bring you acquainted with gentlemen

and good fellows, such as shall do you more grace than – 175

SORDIDO

Brother, I hunger not for such acquaintance.

Carlo is coming toward them.

Do you take heed, lest –

SOGLIARDO

Husht! [To Carlo] My brother, sir, for want of education, sir, somewhat

nodding to the boor, the clown. But I request you in private, sir.

[Sogliardo and Carlo talk together.]

FUNGOSO

[Aside, observing Fastidious] By Jesu, it’s a very fine suit of clothes. 180

GREX

CORDATUS

Do you observe that, signor? There’s another humour has new

cracked the shell.

MITIS

What? He is enamoured of the fashion, is he?

CORDATUS

Oh, you forestall the jest.

[Fastidious and Puntarvolo talk together.]

FUNGOSO

[Aside] I mar’l what it might stand him in. 185

SOGLIARDO

[To Fungoso] Nephew?

FUNGOSO

[Aside] ’Fore God, it’s an excellent suit, and as neatly becomes him. –

What said you, uncle?

SOGLIARDO

When saw you my niece?

FUNGOSO

Marry, yesternight I supped there. [Aside] That kind of boot does very 190

rare too.

SOGLIARDO

And what news hear you?

FUNGOSO

[Aside] The gilt spur and all. Would I were hanged, but ’tis exceeding

good. – Say you?

SOGLIARDO

Your mind is carried away with somewhat else. I ask what news you 195

hear.

FUNGOSO

Troth, we hear none. [Aside] In good faith, I was never so pleased with

a fashion, days of my life. Oh, an I might have but my wish, I’d ask no

more of God now but such a suit, such a hat, such a band, such a doublet, such a

hose, such a boot, and such a – 200

SOGLIARDO

They say there’s a new motion of the city of Nineveh, with Jonas

and the whale, to be seen at Fleet Bridge. You can tell, cousin?

FUNGOSO

[Aside] Here’s such a world of question with him now! [To Sogliardo]

Yes, I think there be such a thing; I saw the picture. [Aside] Would he would

once be satisfied! Let me see, the doublet, say, fifty shillings the doublet, and 205

between three or four pound the hose. Then boots, the hat, and band: some

ten or eleven pound would do it all, and suit me for the heavens!

SOGLIARDO

I’ll see all those devices, an I come to London once.

FUNGOSO

[Aside] God’s lid, an I could compass it, ’twere rare. – Hark you, uncle.

SOGLIARDO

What says my nephew? 210

FUNGOSO

Faith, uncle, I’d ha’ desired you to have made a motion for me to my

father in a thing, that – walk aside and I’ll tell you, sir – No more but this:

there’s a parcel of law books, some twenty pounds’ worth, that lie in a place

for little more than half the money they cost, and I think for some twelve

pound or twenty mark I could go near to redeem ’em. There’s Plowden, Dyer, 215

Brooke, and Fitzherbert, divers such as I must have ere long; and you know I

were as good save five or six pound as not, uncle. I pray you, move it for me.

SOGLIARDO

That I will. When would you have me do it? Presently?

FUNGOSO

Oh, ay, I pray you, good uncle. [Aside, as Sogliardo goes to talk to Sordido]

God send me good luck! Lord, an’t be thy will, prosper it. O Jesu, now, now, 220

if it take – O Christ – I am made for ever!

FASTIDIOUS

[To Puntarvolo] Shall I tell you, sir, by this air, I am the most beholding

to that lord of any gentleman living. He does use me the most honourably,

and with the greatest respect, more indeed than can be uttered with any

opinion of truth. 225

PUNTARVOLO

Then, have you the Count Gratiato?

FASTIDIOUS

As true noble a gentleman, too, as any breathes. I am exceedingly

endeared to his love. By Jesu, I protest to you, signor, I speak it not gloriously

nor out of affectation, but there’s he, and the Count Frugale, Signor Illustre,

Signor Luculento, and a sort of ’em, that, when I am at the court, they do 230

share me amongst ’em. Happy is he can enjoy me most private. I do wish

myself sometime an ubiquitary for their love, in good faith.

CARLO

[Aside] There’s ne’er a one of these but might lie a week on the rack, ere

they could bring forth his name, and yet he pours them out as familiarly as if

he had seen ’em stand by the fire i’the presence, or ta’en tobacco with them 235

over the stage i’the lords’ room.

PUNTARVOLO

Then you must of necessity know our court-star there, that planet

of wit, Madonna Saviolina?

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, Lord, sir, my mistress!

PUNTARVOLO

Is she your mistress? 240

FASTIDIOUS

Faith, here be some slight favours of hers, sir, that do speak it,

she is: as this scarf, sir, or this ribbon in mine ear, or so. This feather grew in her

sweet fan sometimes, though now it be my poor fortunes to wear it as you

see, sir – slight, slight, a foolish toy.

PUNTARVOLO

Well, she is the lady of a most exalted and ingenious spirit. 245

FASTIDIOUS

Did you ever hear any woman speak like her? Or enriched with a

more plentiful discourse?

CARLO

Oh, villainous! Nothing but sound, sound, a mere echo. She speaks as she

goes ’tired, in cobweb lawn, light, thin; good enough to catch flies withal.

PUNTARVOLO

Oh, manage your affections! 250

FASTIDIOUS

[To Carlo] Well, if thou be’st not plagued for this blasphemy one

day –

PUNTARVOLO

Come, regard not a jester. It is in the power of my purse to make

him speak well or ill of me.

FASTIDIOUS

Sir, I affirm it to you, upon my credit and judgement, she has the 255

most harmonious and musical strain of wit that ever tempted a true ear; and

yet to see, a rude tongue will profane heaven.

PUNTARVOLO

I am not ignorant of it, sir.

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, it flows from her like nectar, and she doth give it that sweet,

quick grace and exornation in the composure that, by this good heaven, 260

she does observe as pure a phrase and use as choice figures in her ordinary

conferences as any be i’the Arcadia.

CARLO

Or rather in Greene’s works, whence she may steal with more security.

SORDIDO

[To Fungoso] Well, if ten pound will fetch ’em, you shall have it, but I’ll

part with no more. 265

FUNGOSO

I’ll try what that will do, if you please.

SORDIDO

Do so, and when you have ’em, study hard.

FUNGOSO

Yes, sir. [Aside] An I could study to get forty shillings more now! Well,

I will put myself into the fashion, as far as this will go presently.

SORDIDO

I wonder it rains not! The almanac says we should have store of rain 270

today.

PUNTARVOLO

[To Fastidious] Why, sir, tomorrow I will associate you to the court

myself, and from thence to the city about a business, a project I have. I will

expose it to you, sir. Carlo I am sure has heard of it.

CARLO

What’s that, sir? 275

PUNTARVOLO

I do intend, this year of jubilee, to travel; and because I will not

altogether go upon expense, I am determined to put forth some five thousand

pound to be paid me five for one, upon the return of myself, my wife, and my

Dog from the Turk’s court in Constantinople. If all or either of us miscarry

in the journey, ’tis gone; if we be successful, why, there will be twenty-five 280

thousand pound to entertain time withal. Nay, go not, neighbour Sordido.

Stay tonight and help to make our society the fuller. Gentlemen, frolic. Carlo?

What? Dull now?

CARLO

I was thinking on your project, sir, an you call it so. Is this the Dog goes

with you? 285

PUNTARVOLO

This is the Dog, sir.

CARLO

He do’ not go barefoot, does he?

PUNTARVOLO

Away, you traitor, away.

CARLO

Nay, afore God, I speak simply. He may prick his foot with a thorn and be

as much as the whole venture is worth. Besides, for a dog that never travelled 290

before, it’s a huge journey to Constantinople. I’ll tell you now, an he were

mine, I’d have some present conference with a physician, what antidotes

were good to give him, and preservatives against poison, for assure you, if

once your money be out, there’ll be divers attempts made against the life of

the poor animal. 295

PUNTARVOLO

Thou art still dangerous.

FASTIDIOUS

[To Sogliardo] Is Signor Deliro’s wife your kinswoman?

SOGLIARDO

Ay, sir, she is my niece, my brother’s daughter here, and my

nephew’s sister.

SORDIDO

Do you know her, sir? 300

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, God, sir, Signor Deliro her husband is my merchant.

FUNGOSO

[To Sordido, indicating Fastidious] Ay, I have seen this gentleman there

often.

FASTIDIOUS

I cry you mercy, sir. Let me crave your name, pray you.

FUNGOSO

Fungoso, sir. 305

FASTIDIOUS

Good Signor Fungoso, I shall request to know you better, sir.

FUNGOSO

I am her brother, sir.

FASTIDIOUS

In fair time, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

Come, gentlemen, I will be your conduct.

FASTIDIOUS

[To Fungoso] Nay, pray you, sir; we shall meet at Signor Deliro’s 310

often.

SOGLIARDO

You shall ha’ me at the heralds’ office, sir, for some week or so, at

my first coming up. Come, Carlo. Exeunt.

GREX

MITIS

Methinks, Cordatus, he dwelt somewhat too long on this scene; it hung

i’the hand. 315

CORDATUS

I see not where he could have insisted less, and t’have made the

humours perspicuous enough.

MITIS

True, as his subject lies; but he might have altered the shape of argument

and explicated ’em better in single scenes.

CORDATUS

That had been single indeed. Why, be they not the same persons in 320

this as they would have been in those? And is it not an object of more state to

behold the scene full, and relieved with variety of speakers to the end, than

to see a vast empty stage and the actors come in one by one, as if they were

dropped down with a feather into the eye of the audience?

MITIS

Nay, you are better traded with these things than I, and therefore I’ll 325

subscribe to your judgement. Marry, you shall give me leave to make

objections.

CORDATUS

Oh, what else? It’s the special intent of the author you should do

so, for thereby others that are present may as well be satisfied who happily

would object the same you do. 330

MITIS

So, sir, but when appears Macilente again?

Enter MACILENTE, DELIRO, FIDO, with [flowers,] herbs, and perfumes.

CORDATUS

Marry, he stays but till our silence give him leave. Here he comes, and

with him Signor Deliro, a merchant, at whose house he is come to sojourn.

Make your own observation now, only transfer your thoughts to the city with

the scene, where, suppose they speak. 335

2.3

DELIRO

I’ll tell you by and by, sir.

Welcome, good Macilente, to my house

To sojourn even forever, if my best

In cates and every sort of good entreaty

May move you stay with me.

Deliro turns to his boy [Fido and signals], and [Fido] falls a-strewing of flowers.

MACILENTE

I thank you, sir, 5

[Aside] And yet the muffled Fates, had it pleased them,

Might have supplied me from their own full store

Without this word, ’I thank you’, to a fool.

I see no reason why that dog called Chance

Should fawn upon this fellow more than me. 10

I am a man, and I have limbs, flesh, blood,

Bones, sinews, and a soul as well as he.

My parts are every way as good as his;

If I said better, why, I did not lie.

Natheless, his wealth, but nodding on my wants, 15

Must make me bow and cry, ’I thank you, sir’.

DELIRO

[To Fido] Dispatch. Take heed your mistress see you not.

FIDO

I warrant you, sir. Exit Fido.

DELIRO

Nay, gentle friend, be merry, raise your looks

Out of your bosom. I protest, by heaven, 20

You are the man most welcome in the world.

MACILENTE

‘I thank you, sir’. [Aside] I know my cue, I think!

Enter FIDO with two censers.

FIDO

Where will you have ’em burn, sir?

DELIRO

Here, good Fido.

What? She did not see thee?

FIDO

No, sir.

DELIRO

That’s well.

Strew, strew, good Fido, the freshest flowers. So. 25

MACILENTE

What means this, Signor Deliro?

DELIRO

[To Fido] Cast in more frankincense. Yet more. Well said. –

Oh, Macilente, I have such a wife,

So passing fair, so passing-fair unkind,

And of such worth and right to be unkind, 30

Since no man can be worthy of her kindness.

MACILENTE

What, can there not?

DELIRO

No, that is sure as death,

No man alive. I do not say ‘is not’

But ‘cannot possibly be worth’ her kindness.

Nay, that is certain; let me do her right. 35

How said I? ‘Do her right’? As though I could!

As though this dull gross tongue of mine could utter

The rare, the true, the pure, the infinite rights

That sit, as high as I can look, within her.

MACILENTE

This is such dotage as was never heard. 40

DELIRO

Well, this must needs be granted.

MACILENTE

Granted, quoth you?

DELIRO

Nay, Macilente, do not so discredit

The goodness of your judgement to deny it,

For I do speak the very least of her;

And I would crave and beg no more of heaven, 45

For all my fortunes here, but to be able

To utter first, in fit terms, what she is,

And then the true joys I conceive in her.

MACILENTE

Is’t possible she should deserve so well

As you pretend?

DELIRO

Ay, and she knows so well 50

Her own deserts that, when I strive t’enjoy them,

She weighs the things I do with what she merits;

And, seeing my worth outweighed so in her graces,

She is so solemn, so precise, so froward,

That no observance I can do to her 55

Can make her kind to me. If she find fault,

I mend that fault, and then she says I faulted

That I did mend it. Now, good friend, advise me

How I may temper this strange spleen in her.

MACILENTE

You are too amorous, too obsequious, 60

And make her too assured she may command you.

When women doubt most of their husband’s loves,

They are most loving. Husbands must take heed

They give no gluts of kindness to their wives,

But use them like their horses, whom they feed 65

Not with a manger-full of meat together,

But half a peck at once, and keep them so

Still with an appetite to that they give them.

He that desires to have a loving wife

Must bridle all the show of that desire. 70

Be kind, not amorous, nor bewraying kindness

As if love wrought it, but considerate duty.

‘Offer no love-rites, but let wives still seek them,

For when they come unsought, they seldom like them.’

DELIRO

Believe me, Macilente, this is gospel. 75

Oh, that a man were his own man so much

To rule himself thus! I will strive, i’faith,

To be more strange and careless; yet I hope

I have now taken such a perfect course

To make her kind to me and live contented 80

That I shall find my kindness well returned,

And have no need to fight with my affections.

She late hath found much fault with every room

Within my house. One was too big, she said,

Another was not furnished to her mind, 85

And so through all. All which I have altered.

Then here she hath a place, on my back side,

Wherein she loves to walk, and that, she said,

Had some ill smells about it. Now this walk

Have I, before she knows it, thus perfumed 90

With herbs and flowers, and laid in divers places,

As ’twere on altars consecrate to her,

Perfumèd gloves and delicate chains of amber

To keep the air in awe of her sweet nostrils.

This have I done, and this I think will please her. 95

Behold, she comes.

Enter FALLACE.

FALLACE

Here’s a sweet stink indeed!

What, shall I ever be thus crossed and plagued

And sick of husband? Oh, my head doth ache,

As it would cleave asunder with these savours!

All my rooms altered, and but one poor walk 100

That I delighted in, and that is made

So fulsome with perfumes that I am feared –

My brain doth sweat so! – I have caught the plague.

DELIRO

Why, gentle wife, is now thy walk too sweet?

Thou said’st of late it had sour airs about it, 105

And found’st much fault that I did not correct it.

FALLACE

Why an I did find fault, sir?

DELIRO

Nay, dear wife;

I know thou hast said thou hast loved perfumes,

No woman better.

FALLACE

Ay, long since, perhaps,

But now that sense is altered. You would have me, 110

Like to a puddle or a standing pool,

To have no motion nor no spirit within me.

No, I am like a pure and sprightly river

That moves forever, and yet still the same,

Or fire that burns much wood, yet still one flame. 115

DELIRO

But yesterday, I saw thee at our garden

Smelling on roses and on purple flowers;

And since, I hope, the humour of thy sense

Is nothing changed.

FALLACE

Why, those were growing flowers,

And these within my walk are cut and strewed. 120

DELIRO

But yet they have one scent.

FALLACE

Ay, have they so?

In your gross judgement. If you make no difference

Betwixt the scent of growing flowers and cut ones,

You have a sense to taste lamp-oil, i’faith.

And with such judgement have you changed the chambers, 125

Leaving no room that I can joy to be in

In all your house; and now my walk and all

You smoke me from, as if I were a fox,

And long, belike, to drive me quite away.

Well, walk you there, and I’ll walk where I list. 130

DELIRO

What shall I do? Oh, I shall never please her.

MACILENTE

[Aside] Out on thee, dotard! What star ruled his birth

That brought him such a star? Blind Fortune still

Bestows her gifts on such as cannot use them.

How long shall I live ere I be so happy 135

To have a wife of this exceeding form?

DELIRO

[To Fido] Away with ’em! Would I had broke a joint

When I devised this that should so dislike her.

Away, bear all away!

Fido bears all away [and exit].

FALLACE

Ay, do, for fear

Aught that is there should like her. Oh, this man, 140

How cunningly he can conceal himself

As though he loved! Loved? Nay, honoured and adored!

DELIRO

Why, my sweetheart?

FALLACE

Sweetheart? Oh, better still!

And asking, why? Wherefore? And looking strangely,

As if he were as white as innocence. 145

Alas, you’re simple, you. You cannot change,

Look pale at pleasure, and then red with wonder.

No, no, not you.

I did but cast an amorous eye e’en now

Upon a pair of gloves that somewhat liked me, 150

And straight he noted it, and gave command

All should be ta’en away.

DELIRO

Be they my bane, then.

[Calling] What, sirrah, Fido!

Enter FIDO.

Bring in those gloves again

You took from hence.

FALLACE [To Fido]

’Sbody, sirrah, but do not.

Bring in no gloves to spite me. If you do – 155

[Exit Fido.]

DELIRO

Ay me, most wretched. How am I misconstrued!

MACILENTE

[Aside] Oh, how she tempts my heartstrings with her eye,

To knit them to her beauties, or to break!

What moved the heavens, that they could not make

Me such a woman, but a man, a beast, 160

That hath no bliss like to others? Would to God,

In wreak of my misfortunes, I were turned

To some fair water-nymph, that, set upon

The deepest whirlpit of the ravenous seas,

My adamantine eyes might headlong hale 165

This iron world to me, and drown it all.

Enter FUNGOSO in Brisk’s suit.

GREX

CORDATUS

Behold, behold, the translated gallant!

MITIS

Oh, he is welcome.

FUNGOSO

[To Deliro and Fallace] God save you brother, and sister. [To Macilente]

God save you, sir. [To Fallace] I have commendations for you out i’the country. 170

[Aside] I wonder they take no knowledge of my suit. – Mine uncle Sogliardo

is in town. Sister, methinks you are melancholy. Why are you so sad? I think

you took me for Master Fastidious Brisk, sister, did you not?

FALLACE

Why should I take you for him?

FUNGOSO

Nay, nothing, I was lately in Master Fastidious his company, and 175

methinks we are very like.

DELIRO

You have a fair suit, brother. God give you joy on’t.

FUNGOSO

Faith, good enough to ride in, brother; I made it to ride in.

FALLACE

Oh, now I see the cause of his idle demand was his new suit.

DELIRO

[Aside to Fungoso] Pray you, good brother, try if you can change her mood. 180

FUNGOSO

[Aside to Deliro] I warrant you, let me alone. I’ll put her out of her

dumps. [To Fallace] Sister, how like you my suit?

FALLACE

Oh, you are a gallant in print now, brother.

FUNGOSO

Faith, how like you the fashion? It’s the last edition, I assure you.

FALLACE

I cannot but like it to the desert. 185

FUNGOSO

Troth, sister, I was fain to borrow these spurs. I ha’ left my gown in

gage for ’em. Pray you, lend me an angel.

FALLACE

Now, beshrew my heart, then.

FUNGOSO

Good truth, I’ll pay you again at my next exhibition. I had but bare

ten pound of my father, and it would not reach to put me wholly into the 190

fashion.

FALLACE

I care not.

FUNGOSO

I had spurs of mine own before, but they were not jinglers. Monsieur

Fastidious will be here anon, sister.

FALLACE

You jest! 195

FUNGOSO

Never lend me penny more, while you live, then, and that I’d be loath

to say, in truth.

FALLACE

When did you see him?

FUNGOSO

Yesterday; I came acquainted with him at Sir Puntarvolo’s. Nay, sweet

sister – 200

MACILENTE

[Aside] I fain would know of heaven, now, why yond fool

Should wear a suit of satin. He? That rook?

That painted jay with such a deal of outside?

What is his inside, trow? Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Good heaven, give me patience! 205

A number of these popinjays there are

Whom, if a man confer and but examine

Their inward merit with such men as want,

Lord, Lord, what things they are!

FALLACE

[Giving Fungoso money] Come, when will you pay me again, now? 210

FUNGOSO

Oh, God, sister!

Enter FASTIDIOUS BRISK in a new suit.

MACILENTE

[Aside] Here comes another.

FASTIDIOUS

Save you, Signor Deliro. How dost thou, sweet lady? Let me kiss

thee.

FUNGOSO

How? A new suit? Ay me! 215

DELIRO

And how does Master Fastidious Brisk?

FASTIDIOUS

Faith, live in court, Signor Deliro, in grace, I thank God, both of the

noble masculine and feminine. I must speak with you in private by and by.

DELIRO

When you please, sir.

FALLACE

Why look you so pale, brother? 220

FUNGOSO

’Slid, all this money is cast away now.

MACILENTE

[Aside] Ay, there’s a newer edition come forth.

FUNGOSO

’Tis but my hard fortune. Well, I’ll have my suit changed. I’ll go fetch

my tailor presently, but first I’ll devise a letter to my father. Ha’ you any pen

and ink, sister? 225

FALLACE

What would you do withal?

FUNGOSO

I would use it. ’Slight, an it had come but four days sooner, the fashion!

Exit.

FASTIDIOUS

There was a countess gave me her hand to kiss today, i’the presence,

’did me more good, by Jesu, then – and yesternight sent her coach twice to my

lodging to entreat me accompany her, and my sweet mistress, with some two 230

or three nameless ladies more. Oh, I have been graced by ’em beyond all aim

of affection! This’s her garter my dagger hangs in. And they do so commend

and approve my apparel, with my judicious wearing of it, it’s above wonder.

FALLACE

Indeed, sir, ’tis a most excellent suit, and you do wear it as

extraordinary. 235

FASTIDIOUS

Why, I’ll tell you now, in good faith, and by this chair – which,

by the grace of God, I intend presently to sit in – I had three suits in one

year made three great ladies in love with me. I had other three undid three

gentlemen in imitation, and other three gat three other gentlemen widows

of three thousand pound a year. 240

DELIRO

Is’t possible?

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, believe it, sir, your good face is the witch and your apparel the

spells that bring all the pleasures of the world into their circle.

FALLACE

Ah, the sweet grace of a courtier!

MACILENTE

[Aside] Well, would my father had left me but a good face for my 245

portion yet; though I had shared the unfortunate wit that goes with it, I had

not cared. I might have passed for somewhat i’the world then.

FASTIDIOUS

[To Deliro] Why, assure you, signor, rich apparel has strange virtues:

it makes him that hath it without means, esteemed for an excellent wit; he

that enjoys it with means, puts the world in remembrance of his means; it 250

helps the deformities of nature and gives lustre to her beauties; makes continual

holiday where it shines; sets the wits of ladies at work that otherwise

would be idle; furnisheth your two-shilling ordinary; takes possession of

your stage at your new play; and enricheth your oars, as scorning to go with

your scull. 255

macilente

Pray you, sir, add this: it gives respect to your fools, makes many

thieves, as many strumpets, and no fewer bankrupts.

FALLACE

Out, out, unworthy to speak where he breatheth!

FASTIDIOUS

[To Deliro] What’s he, signor?

DELIRO

A friend of mine, sir. 260

FASTIDIOUS

By heaven, I wonder at you citizens, what kind of creatures you are.

DELIRO

Why, sir?

FASTIDIOUS

That you can consort yourselves with such poor seam-rent fellows.

FALLACE

He says true.

DELIRO

Sir, I will assure you, however you esteem of him, he’s a man worthy of 265

regard.

FASTIDIOUS

Why? What has he in him of such virtue to be regarded? Ha?

DELIRO

Marry, he is a scholar, sir.

FASTIDIOUS

Nothing else?

DELIRO

And he is well travelled. 270

FASTIDIOUS

He should get him clothes. I would cherish those good parts of

travel in him, and prefer him to some nobleman of good place.

DELIRO

Sir, such a benefit should bind me to you forever in my friend’s right,

and I doubt not but his desert shall more than answer my praise.

FASTIDIOUS

Why, an he had good clothes, I’d carry him to the court with me 275

tomorrow.

DELIRO

He shall not want for those, sir, if gold and the whole city will furnish

him.

FASTIDIOUS

You say well, sir. Faith, Signor Deliro, I am come to have you play

the alchemist with me, and change the species of my land into that metal you 280

talk of.

DELIRO

With all my heart, sir. What sum will serve you?

FASTIDIOUS

Faith, some three or fourscore pound.

DELIRO

Troth, sir, I have promised to meet a gentleman this morning in Paul’s,

but upon my return I’ll dispatch you. 285

fastidious

I’ll accompany you thither.

DELIRO

As you please, sir, but I go not thither directly.

FASTIDIOUS

’Tis no matter, I have no other designment in hand, and therefore

as good go along.

DELIRO

[Aside] I were as good have a quartan fever follow me now, for I shall ne’er 290

be rid of him. [Calling within] Bring me a cloak there, one! [Aside] Still, upon

his grace at the court am I sure to be visited. I was a beast to give him any

hope. Well, would I were in, that I am out with him once, and – Come, Signor

Macilente, I must confer with you as we go. – Nay, dear wife, I beseech thee

forsake these moods, look not like winter thus. Here, take my keys, open my 295

counting houses, spread all my wealth before thee, choose any object that

delights thee. If thou wilt eat of the spirit of gold, and drink dissolved pearl

in wine, ’tis for thee.

FALLACE

So, sir.

DELIRO

Nay, my sweet wife. 300

FALLACE

Good Lord! How you are perfumed in your terms and all! Pray you leave

us.

DELIRO

Come, gentlemen.

FASTIDIOUS

Adieu, sweet lady. Exeunt all but Fallace.

FALLACE

Ay, ay, let thy words ever sound in mine ears, and thy graces disperse 305

contentment through all my senses. Oh, how happy is that lady above other

ladies that enjoys so absolute a gentleman to her servant! A countess give him

her hand to kiss! Ah, foolish countess, he’s a man worthy – if a woman may

speak of a man’s worth – to kiss the lips of an empress.

Enter FUNGOSO, with his TAILOR.

FUNGOSO

What, is Master Fastidious gone, sister? 310

FALLACE

Ay, brother. [Aside] He has a face like a cherubin.

FUNGOSO

God’s me, what luck’s this! I have fetched my tailor and all. Which

way went he, sister? Can you tell?

FALLACE

Not I, in good faith. [Aside] And he has a body like an angel.

FUNGOSO

How long is’t since he went? 315

FALLACE

Why, but e’en now. Did you not meet him? [Aside] And a tongue able to

ravish any woman i’the earth.

FUNGOSO

Oh, for God’s sake! [To the Tailor] I’ll please you for your pains. [To Fallace]

But e’en now, say you? [To the Tailor] Come, good sir. [Aside] ’Slid, I had

forgot it too. [To Fallace] Sister, if anybody ask for mine uncle Sogliardo, they 320

shall ha’ him at the heralds’ office yonder by Paul’s. Exit, with his Tailor.

FALLACE

Well, I will not altogether despair. I have heard of a citizen’s wife has

been beloved of a courtier, and why not I? Heigh ho. Well, I will into my

private chamber, lock the door to me, and think over all his good parts one

after another. 325Exit.

GREX

MITIS

Well, I doubt this last scene will endure some grievous torture.

CORDATUS

How? You fear ’twill be racked by some hard construction?

MITIS

Do not you?

CORDATUS

No, in good faith. Unless mine eyes could light me beyond sense, I

see no reason why this should be more liable to the rack than the rest. You’ll 330

say perhaps the city will not take it well, that the merchant is made here to

dote so perfectly upon his wife, and she again to be so fastidiously affected as

she is.

MITIS

You have uttered my thought, sir, indeed.

CORDATUS

Why, by that proportion, the court might as well take offence at him 335

we call the courtier, and with much more pretext, by how much the place

transcends and goes before in dignity and virtue. But can you imagine that

any noble or true spirit in the court – whose sinewy and altogether unaffected

graces very worthily express him a courtier – will make any exception at the

opening of such an empty trunk as this Brisk is? Or think his own worth 340

impeached by beholding his motley inside?

MITIS

No sir, I do not.

CORDATUS

No more, assure you, will any grave wise citizen or modest matron

take the object of this folly in Deliro and his wife, but rather apply it as the foil

to their own virtues; for that were to affirm that a man writing of Nero should 345

mean all emperors, or speaking of Machiavel, comprehend all statesmen, or

in our Sordido, all farmers, and so of the rest; than which, nothing can be

uttered more malicious and absurd. Indeed there are a sort of these narrow-eyed

decipherers, I confess, that will extort strange and abstruse meanings

out of any subject, be it never so conspicuous and innocently delivered. But 350

to such – where’er they sit concealed – let them know the author defies them

and their writing-tables, and hopes no sound or safe judgement will infect

itself with their contagious comments, who indeed come here only to pervert

and poison the sense of what they hear, and for naught else.

MITIS

Stay, what new mute is this that walks so suspiciously? 355

3.1 Enter Cavalier SHIFT, with two si quises in his hand.

CORDATUS

Oh, marry, this is one for whose better illustration we must desire

you to presuppose the stage the middle aisle in Paul’s, and that, the west end

of it.

MITIS

So, sir, and what follows?

CORDATUS

Faith, a whole volume of humour, and worthy the unclasping. 5

MITIS

As how? What name do you give him first?

CORDATUS

He hath shift of names, sir; some call him Apple-John, some Signor

Whiff. Marry, his main standing name is Cavalier Shift; the rest are but as

clean shirts to his natures.

MITIS

And what makes he in Paul’s now? 10

CORDATUS

Troth, as you see, for the advancement of a si quis or two, wherein he

has so varied himself, that if any one of ’em take, he may hull up and down

i’the humorous world a little longer.

MITIS

It seems, then, he bears a very changing sail?

CORDATUS

Oh, as the wind, sir. Here comes more. 15

Enter ORANGE.

SHIFT

This is rare. I have set up my bills without discovery.

ORANGE

What? Signor Whiff? What fortune has brought you into these west

parts?

SHIFT

Troth, signor, nothing but your rheum. I have been taking an ounce of

tobacco hard by here with a gentleman, and I am come to spit private in 20

Paul’s. God save you, sir.

ORANGE

Adieu, good Signor Whiff. [He walks aside.]

Enter CLOVE.

CLOVE

Master Apple-John! You are well met. When shall we sup together, and

laugh and be fat with those good wenches? Ha?

SHIFT

Faith, sir, I must now leave you upon a few humours and occasions. But 25

when you please, sir. Exit.

CLOVE

Farewell, sweet Apple-John. I wonder there are no more store of gallants

here?

GREX

MITIS

What be these two, signor?

CORDATUS

Marry, a couple, sir, that are mere strangers to the whole scope of our 30

play, only come to walk a turn or two i’this scene of Paul’s by chance.

They [Orange and Clove] walk together.

ORANGE

Save you, good Master Clove.

CLOVE

Sweet Master Orange.

GREX

MITIS

How? Clove and Orange?

CORDATUS

Ay, and they are well met, for ’tis as dry an orange as ever grew. 35

Nothing but salutation, and ‘Oh, God, sir!’, and ‘It pleases you to say so, sir’.

One that can laugh at a jest for company with a most plausible and extemporal

grace, and some hour after in private ask you what it was. The other, Monsieur

Clove, is a more spiced youth. He will sit you a whole afternoon sometimes

in a bookseller’s shop reading the Greek, Italian, and Spanish, when he 40

understands not a word of either. If he had the tongues to his suits, he were

an excellent linguist.

CLOVE

Do you hear this reported for certainty?

ORANGE

Oh, good sir!

Enter PUNTARVOLO, [and] CARLO, [with] two SERVINGMEN following, one leading the DOG [and one holding the Cat in a bag].

PUNTARVOLO

[To the Servingmen] Sirrah, take my cloak, and you, sir knave, follow 45

me closer. If thou losest my Dog, thou shalt die a dog’s death; I will hang

thee.

CARLO

Tut, fear him not, he’s a good lean slave, he loves a dog well, I warrant

him. I see by his looks, ay, mass, he’s somewhat like him. [Aside to Servingman]

’Sblood, poison him, make him away with a crooked pin or somewhat, man; 50

thou mayst have more security of thy life. [To Puntarvolo] And so, sir, what?

You ha’ not put out your whole venture yet, ha’ you?

PUNTARVOLO

No, I do want yet some fifteen or sixteen hundred pounds. But

my lady, my wife, is out of her humour; she does not now go.

CARLO

No? How then? 55

PUNTARVOLO

Marry, I am now enforced to give it out, upon the return of myself,

my Dog, and my Cat.

CARLO

Your cat? Where is she?

PUNTARVOLO

My squire has her there in the bag. [To Servingman] Sir, look to her.

– How lik’st thou my change, Carlo? 60

CARLO

Oh, for the better, sir, your Cat has nine lives, and your wife ha’ but one.

PUNTARVOLO

Besides, she will never be seasick, which will save me so much in

conserves. When saw you Signor Sogliardo?

CARLO

I came from him but now; he is at the heralds’ office yonder. He requested

me to go afore and take up a man or two for him in Paul’s, against his 65

cognizance was ready.

PUNTARVOLO

What? Has he purchased arms, then?

CARLO

Ay, and rare ones too, of as many colours as e’er you saw any fool’s coat in

your life. I’ll go look among yond bills an I can fit him with legs to his arms.

PUNTARVOLO

With legs to his arms! Good, I will go with you, sir. 70

They go to look upon the bills.

Enter FASTIDIOUS, DELIRO, and MACILENTE.

FASTIDIOUS

Come, let’s walk in the Mediterraneum. I assure you, sir, I am not the

least respected among ladies, but let that pass. Do you know how to go into

the presence, sir?

MACILENTE

Why, on my feet, sir.

FASTIDIOUS

No, on your head, sir, for ’tis that must bear you out, I assure you; 75

as thus, sir: you must first have an especial care so to wear your hat, that it

oppress not confusedly this your predominant or foretop, because when you

come at the presence door, you may, with once or twice stroking up your

forehead thus, enter with your predominant perfect, that is, standing up

stiff. 80

MACILENTE

As if one were frighted?

FASTIDIOUS

Ay, sir.

MACILENTE

Which indeed, a true fear of your mistress should do, rather than

gum water, or whites of eggs, is’t not so, sir?

FASTIDIOUS

An ingenious observation. Give me leave to crave your name, sir. 85

DELIRO

His name is Macilente, sir.

FASTIDIOUS

Good Signor Macilente, if this gentleman, Signor Deliro, furnish

you as he says he will with clothes, I will bring you tomorrow by this time

into the presence of the most divine and acute lady of the court. You shall

see sweet silent rhetoric and dumb eloquence speaking in her eye; but when 90

she speaks herself, such an anatomy of wit, so sinewized and arterized, that

’tis the goodliest model of pleasure that ever was to behold. Oh, she strikes

the world into admiration of her – Oh, oh, oh! – I cannot express ’em, believe

me.

MACILENTE

Oh, your only admiration is your silence, sir. 95

PUNTARVOLO

’Fore God, Carlo, this is good. Let’s read ’em again: ‘If there be

any lady or gentlewoman of good carriage that is desirous to entertain, to her

private uses, a young, straight, and upright gentleman of the age of five-

or six-and-twenty, at the most, who can serve in the nature of a gentleman

usher and hath little legs of purpose, and a black satin suit of his own to go 100

before her in (which suit, for the more sweetening, now lies in lavender), and

can hide his face with her fan, if need require, or sit in the cold at the stair foot

for her as well as another gentleman, let her subscribe her name and place,

and diligent respect shall be given.’ This is above measure excellent, ha?

CARLO

[Indicating another bill] No, this, this, here’s a fine slave. 105

PUNTARVOLO

[Reads] ‘If this city or the suburbs of the same do afford any young

gentleman of the first, second, or third head, more or less, whose friends

are but lately deceased and whose lands are but new come to his hands,

that (to be as exactly qualified as the best of our ordinary gallants are) is

affected to entertain the most gentlemanlike use of tobacco – as, first, to give 110

it the most exquisite perfume, then to know all the delicate sweet forms for

the assumption of it (as also the rare corollary and practice of the Cuban

ebullition, Euripus, and whiff) which he shall receive or take in here at

London and evaporate at Uxbridge, or farther, if it please him – if there be

any such generous spirit that is truly enamoured of these good faculties, may 115

it please him, but (by a note of his hand) to specify the place or ordinary where

he uses to eat and lie, and most sweet attendance with tobacco and pipes of

the best sort shall be ministered. Stet quaeso candide lector.’ Why this is without

parallel, this!

CARLO

Well, I’ll mark this fellow for Sogliardo’s use presently. 120

PUNTARVOLO

Or rather, Sogliardo for his use.

CARLO

Faith, either of ’em will serve. They are both good properties. I’ll design

the other a place too, that we may see him.

PUNTARVOLO

No better place than the Mitre, that we may be spectators with

you, Carlo. 125

Enter SOGLIARDO.

Soft, behold who enters here. Signor Sogliardo! God save you.

SOGLIARDO

Save you, good Sir Puntarvolo. Your Dog’s in health, sir, I see. –

How now, Carlo?

CARLO

We have ta’en simple pains to choose you out followers here.

PUNTARVOLO

Come hither, signor. 130

They show him [Sogliardo] the bills.

CLOVE

[Aside to Orange] Monsieur Orange, yond gallants observes us. Prithee, let’s

talk fustian a little and gull ’em, make ’em believe we are great scholars.

ORANGE

Oh, Lord, sir!

CLOVE

Nay, prithee let’s, by Jesu. You have an excellent habit in discourse.

ORANGE

It pleases you to say so, sir. 135

CLOVE

By this church, you ha’, la! Nay, come, begin. Aristotle in his Daemonologia

approves Scaliger for the best navigator in his time, and in his Hypercritiques

he reports him to be Heautontimorumenos. You understand the Greek, sir?

ORANGE

Oh, God, sir!

MACILENTE

[Aside] For society’s sake he does. Oh, here be a couple of fine tame 140

parrots.

CLOVE

[Aloud] Now, sir, whereas the ingenuity of the time and the soul’s synderisis

are but embryons in nature, added to the paunch of esquiline and the intervallum

of the zodiac, besides, the ecliptic line being optic and not mental, but by the

contemplative and theoric part thereof, doth demonstrate to us the vegetable 145

circumference and the ventosity of the tropics, and whereas our intellectual

or mincing capriole, according to the Metaphysics, as you may read in Plato’s

Histriomastix – you conceive me, sir?

ORANGE

Oh, Lord, sir!

CLOVE

Then coming to the pretty animal, as reason long since is fled to animals, 150

you know, or indeed for the more modelizing or enamelling or rather

diamondizing of your subject, you shall perceive the hypothesis or galaxia,

whereof the meteors long since had their initial inceptions and notions, to

be merely Pythagorical, mathematical, and aristocratical; for look you, sir,

there is ever a kind of concinnity and species – [Aside to Orange] let us turn to 155

our former discourse, for they mark us not.

[They walk aside.]

FASTIDIOUS

Mass, yonder’s the knight Puntarvolo.

DELIRO

And my cousin Sogliardo, methinks.

MACILENTE

[Aside] Ay, and his familiar that haunts him, the devil with a shining

face. 160

DELIRO

Let ’em alone; observe ’em not.

Sogliardo, Puntarvolo, [and] Carlo walk.

sogliardo

Nay, I will have him, I am resolute for that. By this parchment,

gentlemen, I have been so toiled among the harrots yonder, you will not

believe. They do speak i’the strangest language, and give a man the hardest

terms for his money, that ever you knew. 165

CARLO

But ha’ you arms? Ha’ you arms?

SOGLIARDO

I’faith, I thank God I can write myself gentleman now. Here’s my

patent [Showing them a document]. It cost me thirty pound, by this breath.

PUNTARVOLO

A very fair coat, well charged and full of armoury.

SOGLIARDO

Nay, it has as much variety of colours in it as you have seen a coat 170

have. How like you the crest, sir?

PUNTARVOLO

I understand it not well. What is’t?

SOGLIARDO

Marry, sir, it is your boar without a head, rampant.

PUNTARVOLO

A boar without a head. That’s very rare.

CARLO

[Aside to Puntarvolo] Ay, and rampant too. Troth, I commend the herald’s 175

wit, he has deciphered him well: a swine without a head, without brain, wit,

anything indeed, ramping to gentility. [To Sogliardo] You can blazon the rest,

signor, can you not?

SOGLIARDO

Oh, ay, I have it in writing here of purpose. It cost me two shillings

the tricking. 180

CARLO

Let’s hear, let’s hear.

PUNTARVOLO

[Aside to Carlo] It is the most vile, foolish, absurd, palpable, and

ridiculous escutcheon that ever this eye survised.

They salute [Fastidious, Deliro, and Macilente]

as they meet in the walk.

Save you, good Monsieur Fastidious.

CARLO

Silence, good knight. [To Sogliardo] On, on. 185

SOGLIARDO

[Reads] ‘Gyrony of eight pieces, azure and gules, between three plates

a chevron engrailed checky, or, vert, and ermins, on a chief argent between two

ann’lets sables, a boar’s head proper’.

CARLO

How’s that? On a chief argent?

SOGLIARDO

‘On a chief argent, a boar’s head proper between two ann’lets sables’. 190

CARLO

’Slud, it’s a hog’s cheek and puddings in a pewter field, this.

SOGLIARDO

How like you them, signor?

PUNTARVOLO

Let the word be: Not without mustard. Your crest is very rare, sir.

CARLO

[Aside] A frying pan to the crest had had no fellow.

[Fastidious, Deliro, and Macilente approach again.] Here they shift [strolling companions:] Fastidious mixes with Puntarvolo; Carlo and Sogliardo; Deliro and Macilente; Clove and Orange: four couple.

FASTIDIOUS

[To Carlo] Entreat your poor friend to walk off a little, signor, I will 195

salute the knight.

CARLO

[To Sogliardo] Come, lap’t up, lap’t up.

FASTIDIOUS

[To Puntarvolo] You are right well encountered, sir. How does your

fair Dog?

PUNTARVOLO

In reasonable state, sir. What citizen is that you were consorted 200

with? A merchant of any worth?

FASTIDIOUS

’Tis Signor Deliro, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

Is it he? Save you, sir.

[They] salute [as they walk by each other].

DELIRO

Good Sir Puntarvolo.

MACILENTE

[Aside] Oh, what copy of fool would this place minister to one 205

endowed with patience to observe it!

CARLO

[To Sogliardo] Nay, look you, sir, now you are a gentleman, you must carry a

more exalted presence, change your mood and habit to a more austere form,

be exceeding proud, stand upon your gentility, and scorn every man. Speak

nothing humbly, never discourse under a nobleman; though you ne’er saw 210

him but riding to the Star Chamber, it’s all one. Love no man, trust no man,

speak ill of no man to his face, nor well of any man behind his back. Salute

fairly on the front, and wish ’em hangedupon the turn. Spread yourself

upon his bosom publicly, whose heart you would eat in private. These be

principles; think on ’em, I’ll come to you again presently. 215Exit Carlo.

Sogliardo mixes with Puntarvolo and Fastidious.

PUNTARVOLO

[To Servingman] Sirrah, keep close, yet not so close; thy breath will

thaw my ruff.

Enter FUNGOSO with his TAILOR.

SOGLIARDO

[To Fungoso] Oh, good cousin, I am a little busy. How does my niece?

I am to walk with a knight here.

FUNGOSO

[To Tailor, indicating Fastidious] Oh, he is here. Look you, sir, that’s the 220

gentleman.

TAILOR

What, he i’the blush-coloured satin?

FUNGOSO

Ay, he sir, though his suit blush, he blushes not. Look you, that’s the

suit, sir. I would have mine such a suit without difference: such stuff, such a

wing, such a sleeve, such a skirt, belly, and all. Therefore, pray you, observe 225

it. Have you a pair of tables?

[The Tailor writes notes.]

FASTIDIOUS

[To Puntarvolo] Why, do you see, sir? They say I am fantastical. Why,

true, I know it, and I pursue my humour still in contempt of this censorious

age. ’Slight, an a man should do nothing but what a sort of stale judgements

about this town will approve in him, he were a sweet ass. I’d beg him, i’faith. 230

I ne’er knew any more find fault with a fashion than they that knew not how

to put themselves into’t. For mine own part, so I please mine own appetite, I

am careless what the fusty world speaks of me. Puh!

FUNGOSO

[To the Tailor] Do you mark how it hangs at the knee there?

TAILOR

I warrant you, sir. 235

FUNGOSO

For God’s sake do, note all. Do you see the collar, sir?

TAILOR

Fear nothing. It shall not differ in a stitch, sir.

FUNGOSO

Pray God it do not. You’ll make these linings serve, and help me to a

chapman for the outside, will you?

TAILOR

I’ll do my best, sir. You’ll put it off presently? 240

fungoso

Ay. Go with me to my chamber, you shall have it. But make haste of

it, for the love of Christ, for I’ll sit i’my old suit or else lie a-bed and read the

Arcadia till you have done.

Exit with Tailor.

Enter CARLO.

CARLO

[To Fastidious, Puntarvolo, and Sogliardo] Oh, if ever you were struck with

a jest, gallants, now, now! I do usher the most strange piece of military 245

profession that ever was discovered in Insula Paulina.

FASTIDIOUS

Where? Where?

PUNTARVOLO

What is he for a creature?

CARLO

A pimp, a pimp, that I have observed yonder, the rarest superficies of a

humour. He comes every morning to empty his lungs in Paul’s here, and 250

offers up some five or six hecatombs of faces and sighs, and away again.

Here he comes – nay, walk, walk, be not seen to note him, and we shall have

excellent sport.

Enter SHIFT, [who] walks by, and uses action to his rapier.

PUNTARVOLO

’Slid, he vented a sigh e’en now, I thought he would have

blown up the church. 255

CARLO

Oh, you shall have him give a number of those false fires ere he depart.

FASTIDIOUS

See now he is expostulating with his rapier. Look, look!

CARLO

Did you ever in your days observe better passion over a hilt?

PUNTARVOLO

Except it were in the person of a cutler’s boy, or that the fellow

were nothing but vapour, I should think it impossible. 260

CARLO

See, again, he claps his sword o’the head, as who should say, ‘well, go to!’

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, violence! I wonder the blade can contain itself, being so

provoked.

CARLO

[Reciting] ‘With that, the moody squire thumped his breast,

And reared his eyen to heaven for revenge.’ 265

SOGLIARDO

Troth, an you be gentlemen, let’s make ’em friends, and take up the

matter between his rapier and he.

CARLO

Nay, if you intend that, you must lay down the matter, for this rapier,

it seems, is in the nature of a hanger-on, and the good gentleman would

happily be rid of him. 270

FASTIDIOUS

By my faith, and ’tis to be suspected. I’ll ask him.

MACILENTE

[To Deliro] Oh, here’s rich stuff. For Christ’ sake, let us go.

A man would wish himself a senseless pillar

Rather than view these monstrous prodigies:

Nil habet in foelix paupertas durius in se, 275

Quam quod ridiculos homines facit.

Exit with Deliro.

[Fastidious approaches Shift, while the others observe at a distance.]

FASTIDIOUS

Signor.

SHIFT

At your service.

FASTIDIOUS

Will you sell your rapier?

CARLO

[Observing Shift’s reaction] ’Sblood, he is turned wild upon the question! He 280

looks as he had seen a sergeant.

SHIFT

Sell my rapier? Now God bless me!

PUNTARVOLO

Amen.

SHIFT

You asked me if I would sell my rapier, sir?

FASTIDIOUS

I did indeed. 285

SHIFT

Now Lord have mercy upon me!

PUNTARVOLO

Amen I say still.

SHIFT

’Slud, sir, what should you behold in my face, sir, that should move you,

as they say, sir, to ask me, sir, if I would sell my rapier?

FASTIDIOUS

Nay, let me pray you, sir, be not moved. I protest I would rather 290

have been silent than any way offensive, had I known your nature.

SHIFT

[Remonstrating] Sell my rapier? God’s lid! Nay, sir, for mine own part as

I am a man that has served in causes, or so, so I am not apt to injure any

gentleman in the degree of falling foul. But sell my rapier? I will tell you, sir,

I have served with this foolish rapier where some of us dare not appear in 295

haste. I name no man, but let that pass. Sell my rapier? Death to my lungs!

This rapier, sir, has travelled by my side, sir, the best part of France and the

Low Country. I have seen Flushing, Brill, and the Hague with this rapier,

sir, in My Lord of Leicester’s time, and by God’s will, he that should offer

to dis-rapier me now, I would – [Quietly] Look you, sir, you presume to be a 300

gentleman of good sort, and so likewise your friends here. If you have any

disposition to travel, for the sight of service or so, one, two, or all of you, I can

lend you letters to divers officers and commanders in the Low Countries that

shall for my cause do you all the good offices that shall pertain or belong to

gentlemen of your – [Pleading directly] Please you to show the bounty of your 305

mind, sir, to impart some ten groats or half a crown to our use, till our ability

be of growth to return it, and we shall think ourself – [Loudly, as Fastidious

turns away and rejoins the others] ’Sblood, sell my rapier?

SOGLIARDO

[To Fastidious] I pray you, what said he, Signor? He’s a proper man.

FASTIDIOUS

Marry, he tells me, if I please to show the bounty of my mind, to 310

impart some ten groats to his use or so.

PUNTARVOLO

Break his head, and give it him.

CARLO

I thought he had been playing on the Jew’s trump, I.

[Shift approaches Fastidious.]

SHIFT

[Remonstrating] My rapier? No sir, my rapier is my guard, my defence, my

revenue, my honour! – [Aside to Fastidious] if you cannot impart, be secret, I 315

beseech you – [Remonstrating] and I will maintain it, where there is a grain

of dust or a drop of water! – [Aside to Fastidious] Hard is the choice when

the valiant must eat their arms or clem. – [Remonstrating] Sell my rapier?

[Addressing his rapier] No, my dear, I will not be divorced from thee yet, I have

ever found thee true as steel, and – [Aside to Fastidious] you cannot impart, sir? 320

– [To the others] God save you, gentlemen – [Aside to Fastidious] nevertheless, if

you have a fancy to it, sir –

FASTIDIOUS

Prithee, away! [To the others] Is Signor Deliro departed?

CARLO

[Ignoring his question] Ha’ you seen a pimp outface his own wants better?

SOGLIARDO

I commend him, that can dissemble them so well. 325

PUNTARVOLO

True, and having no better a cloak for it than he has, neither.

FASTIDIOUS

God’s precious, what mischievous luck is this! Adieu, gentlemen.

PUNTARVOLO

Whither in such haste, Monsieur Fastidious?

FASTIDIOUS

After my merchant, Signor Deliro, sir.

CARLO

[To the others] Oh, hinder him not; he may hap lose his tide. A good flounder, 330

i’faith. Exit [Fastidious].

Orange and Clove call Shift aside.

ORANGE

Hark you, Signor Whiff, a word with you.

CARLO

How? Signor Whiff?

ORANGE

What was the difference between that young gallant that’s gone and

you, sir? 335

SHIFT

No difference. He would ha’ giv’n me five pound for my rapier, and I

refused it, that’s all.

CLOVE

Oh, was it no otherwise? We thought you had been upon some terms.

SHIFT

No other than you saw, sir.

CLOVE

Adieu, good Master Apple-John. 340

Exeunt Orange and Clove.

carlo

How? Whiff, and Apple-John too? Heart, what’ll you say if this be the

appendix or label to both yond indentures?

PUNTARVOLO

It may be.

CARLO

Resolve us of it, Janus, thou that look’st every way, or thou, Hercules, that

hast travelled all countries. 345

PUNTARVOLO

Nay, Carlo, spend not time in invocations now, ’tis late.

CARLO

[To Shift] Signor, here’s a gentleman desirous of your name, sir.

SHIFT

Sir, my name is Cavalier Shift. I am known sufficiently in this walk, sir.

CARLO

Shift? I heard your name varied e’en now, as I take it.

SHIFT

True, sir, it pleases the world (as I am her excellent tobacconist) to give me 350

the style of Signor Whiff; as I am a poor esquire about the town here, they

call me Master Apple-John. Variety of good names does well, sir.

CARLO

Ay, and good parts to make those good names, out of which I imagine

yond bills to be yours.

SHIFT

Sir, if I should deny the scriptures, I were worthy to be banished the middle 355

aisle for ever.

CARLO

I take your word, sir; this gentleman has subscribed to ’em, and is most

desirous to become your pupil. Marry, you must use expedition. – Signor

Insulso Sogliardo, this is the professor.

SOGLIARDO

In good time, sir. [Shift doffs his hat.] – Nay, good sir, house your head. 360

Do you profess these sleights in tobacco?

SHIFT

I do more than profess, sir, and if you please to be a practitioner, I will

undertake in one fortnight to bring you that you shall take it plausibly in

any ordinary, theatre, or the tilt-yard if need be, the most popular assembly

that is. 365

puntarvolo

But you cannot bring him to the whiff so soon?

SHIFT

Yes, as soon, sir; he shall receive the one, two, and three whiff, if it please

him, and upon the receipt take his horse, drink his three cups of canary, and

expose one at Hounslow, a second at Staines, and a third at Bagshot.

CARLO

Bow-wow! 370

SOGLIARDO

You will not serve me, sir, will you? I’ll give you more than

countenance.

SHIFT

Pardon me, sir, I do scorn to serve any man.

CARLO

Who? He serve? ’Sblood, he keeps high men and low men, he; he has a fair

living at Fulham. 375

SHIFT

But in the nature of a fellow, I’ll be your follower if you please.

SOGLIARDO

Sir, you shall stay and dine with me, and if we can agree, we’ll not

part in haste. I am very bountiful to men of quality. Where shall we go,

signor?

PUNTARVOLO

Your Mitre is your best house. 380

SHIFT

I can make this Dog take as many whiffs as I list, and he shall retain or

effume them at my pleasure.

PUNTARVOLO

By your patience. [To the Servingmen] Follow me, fellows.

SOGLIARDO

Sir Puntarvolo!

PUNTARVOLO

Pardon me, my Dog shall not eat in his company for a million. 385

Exit Puntarvolo with his followers.

CARLO

Nay, be not you amazed, Signor Whiff, whate’er that stiff-necked gentleman

says.

SOGLIARDO

No, for you do not know the humour of the Dog as we do. Where

shall we dine, Carlo? I would fain go to one of these ordinaries, now I am a

gentleman. 390

CARLO

So you may; were you never at none yet?

SOGLIARDO

No, faith, but they say there resorts your most choice gallants.

CARLO

True, and the fashion is, when any stranger comes in amongst ’em, they

all stand up and stare at him, as he were some unknown beast brought out of

Afric. But that’ll be helped with a good adventurous face. You must be impudent 395

enough, sit down, and use no respect. When anything’s propounded

above your capacity, smile at it, make two or three faces, and ’tis excellent;

they’ll think you have travelled, though you argue a whole day in silence thus,

and discourse in nothing but laughter, ’twill pass. Only now and then give

fire, discharge a good full oath, and offer a great wager, ’twill be admirable. 400

SOGLIARDO

I warrant you, I am resolute. [To Shift] Come, good signor, there’s

a poor French crown for your ordinary. [Giving money.]

SHIFT

It comes well, for I had not so much as the least portcullis of coin before.

Exeunt.

GREX

MITIS

I travail with another objection, signor, which I fear will be enforced

against the author, ere I can be delivered of it. 405

CORDATUS

What’s that, sir?

MITIS

That the argument of his comedy might have been of some other nature,

as of a Duke to be in love with a Countess, and that Countess to be in love

with the Duke’s son, and the son to love the lady’s waiting maid; some such

cross-wooing, with a clown to their servingman, better then to be thus near 410

and familiarly allied to the time.

CORDATUS

You say well, but I would fain hear one of these autumn-judgements

define once quid sit comoedia? If he cannot, let him content himself with

Cicero’s definition (till he have strength to propose to himself a better),

who would have a comedy to be imitatio vitae, speculum consuetudinis, imago 415

veritatis; a thing throughout pleasant and ridiculous, and accommodated to

the correction of manners. If the maker have failed in any particle of this,

they may worthily tax him, but if not, why, be you (that are for them) silent,

as I will be for him, and give way to the actors.

3.2 Enter SORDIDO with a halter about his neck.

SORDIDO

Nay, God’s precious, if the weather and the season be so respectless

that beggars shall live as well as their betters, and that my hunger and thirst

for riches shall not make them hunger and thirst with poverty, that my sleeps

shall be broken and their hearts not broken, that my coffers shall be full and

yet care, theirs empty and yet merry, ’tis time that a cross should bear flesh 5

and blood, since flesh and blood cannot bear this cross.

GREX

MITIS

What, will he hang himself?

CORDATUS

Faith, ay, it seems his prognostication has not kept touch with him,

and that makes him despair.

MITIS

Beshrew me, he will be out of his humour then indeed. 10

SORDIDO

Tut, these star-monger knaves, who would trust ’em? One says ‘dark

and rainy’ when ’tis as clear as crystal, another says ‘tempestuous blasts and

storms’ and ’twas as calm as a milk bowl. Here be sweet rascals for a man

to credit his whole fortunes with. You sky-staring coxcombs, you; you fat

brains, out upon you! You are good for nothing but to sweat night-caps and 15

make rug-gowns dear. You, learned men, and have not a legion of devils à

votre service, à votre service? By heaven, I think I shall die a better scholar than

they. But soft, how now, sirrah?

Enter a HIND with a letter.

HIND

Here’s a letter come from your son, sir.

SORDIDO

From my son, sir? What would my son, sir? Some good news, no doubt. 20

[He reads] the letter.

‘Sweet and dear father:

Desiring you first to send me your blessing, which is more worth to

me than gold or silver, I desire you likewise to be advertised that this Shrovetide,

contrary to custom, we use always to have revels, which is indeed dancing, and

makes an excellent show, in truth, especially if we gentlemen be well-attired, 25

which our seniors note, and think the better of our fathers the better we are

maintained; and that they shall know if they come up and have anything to

do in the law. Therefore, good father, these are, for your own sake as well

as mine, to re-desire you that you let me not want that which is fit for the

setting-up of our name in the honourable volume of gentility, that I may say 30

to our calumniators with Tully, Ego sum ortus domus meae, tu occasus tuae. And

thus, not doubting of your fatherly benevolence, I humbly ask you blessing,

and pray God to bless you.

Yours, if his own.’

How’s this? ‘Yours, if his own’? Is he not my son, except he be his own son? 35

Belike this is some new kind of subscription the gallants use. [To the Hind]

Well, wherefore dost thou stay, knave? Away, go.

Exit [Hind].

Here’s a letter indeed! Revels? And benevolence? Is this a weather to send

benevolence? Or is this a season to revel in? ’Slid, the devil and all takes part

to vex me, I think. This letter would never have come now else, now, now, 40

when the sun shines and the air thus clear. ’Soul, if this hold, we shall shortly

have an excellent crop of corn spring out of the highways; the streets and

houses of the town will be hid with the rankness of the fruits that grow there

in spite of good husbandry. Go to, I’ll prevent the sight of it, come as quickly

as it can, I will prevent the sight of it. I have this remedy, heaven. Stay, I’ll try 45

the pain thus a little.

[He climbs up, attaches the halter, and pulls at his neck.]

Oh, nothing, nothing. Well now, shall my son gain a benevolence by my

death? Or anybody be the better for my gold or so forth? No. Alive, I kept it

from ’em, and dead my ghost shall walk about it and preserve it; my son and

daughter shall starve ere they touch it. I have hid it as deep as hell from the 50

sight of heaven, and to it I go now.

Falls off.

Enter RUSTICI, five or six, one after another.

FIRST RUSTIC

Ay me, what pitiful sight is this! Help, help, help!

SECOND RUSTIC

How now, what’s the matter?

FIRST RUSTIC

Oh, here’s a man has hanged himself. Help to get him again.

[First Rustic cuts down the halter.]

SECOND RUSTIC

Hanged himself? ’Slid, carry him afore a justice, ’tis chance-medley, 55

on my word.

THIRD RUSTIC

How now, what’s here to do?

FOURTH RUSTIC

How comes this?

SECOND RUSTIC

One has executed himself contrary to the order of law, and by

my consent he shall answer’t. 60

FIFTH RUSTIC

Would he were in case to answer it.

[Sordido begins to revive.]

FIRST RUSTIC

Stand by. He recovers. Give him breath.

SORDIDO

Oh!

FIFTH RUSTIC

[To First Rustic] Mass, ’twas well you went the footway, neighbour.

FIRST RUSTIC

Ay, an I had not cut the halter. 65

SORDIDO

How? Cut the halter? Ay me, I am undone, I am undone!

SECOND

Rustic Marry, if you had not been undone, you had been hanged, I can

tell you.

SORDIDO

You threadbare horsebread-eating rascals, if you would needs

have been meddling, could you not have untied it, but you must cut it? And in the 70

midst too? Ay me!

FIRST RUSTIC

Out on me, ’tis the caterpillar Sordido! How cursed are the poor,

that the viper was blessed with this good fortune?

[The other Rustics turn against the First Rustic.]

SECOND RUSTIC

Nay, how accurst art thou, that art cause to the curse of the

poor! 75

THIRD RUSTIC

Ay, and to save so wretched a caitiff!

FOURTH RUSTIC

Cursed be thy fingers that loosed him!

FOURTH RUSTIC

Some desperate fury possess thee, that thou may’st hang thyself

too!

FIFTH RUSTIC

Never mayest thou be saved, that saved so damned a monster! 80

SORDIDO

[Aside] What curses breathe these men? How have my deeds

Made my looks differ from another man’s,

That they should thus detest and loath my life?

Out on my wretched humour! It is that

Makes me thus monstrous in true human eyes. 85

[To the Rustics] Pardon me, gentle friends. I’ll make fair ’mends

For my foul errors past, and twenty-fold

Restore to all men what with wrong I robbed them.

My barns and garners shall stand open still

To all the poor that come, and my best grain 90

Be made alms-bread to feed half-famished mouths.

Though hitherto amongst you I have lived

Like an unsavoury muckhill to myself,

Yet now my gather’d heaps, being spread abroad,

Shall turn to better and more fruitful uses. 95

[Indicating the First Rustic] Bless then this man. Curse him no more for

saving

My life and soul together. Oh, how deeply

The bitter curses of the poor do pierce!

I am by wonder changed. Come in with me

And witness my repentance. Now I prove, 100

‘No life is blest that is not graced with love.’ Exit.

SECOND RUSTIC

Oh, miracle! See when a man has grace.

THIRD RUSTIC

Had’t not been pity so good a man should have been cast away?

SECOND RUSTIC

Well, I’ll get our clerk put his conversion in the chronicle.

FOURTH RUSTIC

Do, for I warrant him he’s a virtuous man. 105

FIRST RUSTIC

Oh, God, how he wept, if you marked it! Did you see how the tears

trilled?

FIFTH RUSTIC

Yes, believe me, like master vicar’s bowls upon the green, for all

the world.

THIRD OR FOURTH RUSTIC

[To the First Rustic] Oh, neighbour, God’s blessing 110

o’your heart, neighbour, ’twas a good grateful deed!

Exeunt.

GREX

CORDATUS

How now, Mitis? What’s that you consider so seriously?

MITIS

Troth, that which doth essentially please me: the warping condition of

this green and soggy multitude. But in good faith, signor, your author hath

largely outstripped my expectation in this scene, I will liberally confess it. 115

For when I saw Sordido so desperately intended, I thought I had had a hand

of him then.

CORDATUS

What? You supposed he should have hung himself indeed?

MITIS

I did, and had framed my objection to it ready, which may yet be very

fitly urged, and with some necessity; for though his purposed violence lost 120

th’effect and extended not to death, yet the intent and horror of the object

was more than the nature of a comedy will in any sort allow.

CORDATUS

Ay? What think you of Plautus in his comedy called Cistellaria there,

where he brings in Alcestimarchus with a drawn sword ready to kill himself,

and, as he is e’en fixing his breast upon it, to be restrained from his resolved 125

outrage by Silenium and the Bawd? Is not his authority of power to give our

scene approbation?

MITIS

Sir, I have this your only evasion left me, to say: I think it be so indeed,

your memory is happier than mine. But I wonder what engine he will use to

bring the rest out of their humours? 130

CORDATUS

That will appear anon. Never preoccupy your imagination withal.

Let your mind keep company with the scene still, which now removes itself

from the country to the court. Here comes Macilente and Signor Brisk freshly

suited. Lose not yourself, for now the epitasis or busy part of our subject is in

action. 135

3.3 Enter MACILENTE, [and FASTIDIOUS] BRISK [in new suits], [and] CINEDO with tobacco. [A viola da gamba hanging up.]

FASTIDIOUS

Well now, Signor Macilente, you are not only welcome to the court,

but also to my mistress’s withdrawing-chamber. [To Cinedo] Boy, get me some

tobacco.

[Cinedo makes a pipe ready.]

[To Macilente] I’ll but go in and show I am here, and come to you presently, sir.

Exit.

MACILENTE

[Aside] What’s that he said? By heaven, I marked him not; 5

My thoughts and I were of another world.

I was admiring mine own outside here,

To think what privilege and palm it bears

Here in the court. Be a man ne’er so vile

In wit, in judgement, manners, or what else, 10

If he can purchase but a silken cover,

He shall not only pass, but pass regarded,

Whereas let him be poor and meanly clad,

Though ne’er so richly parted, you shall have

A fellow that knows nothing but his beef 15

Or how to rinse his clammy guts in beer,

Will take him by the shoulders or the throat

And kick him down the stairs. Such is the state

Of virtue in bad clothes – Ha, ha, ha, ha! –

That raiment should be in such high request! 20

How long should I be ere I should put off

To my lord chancellor’s tomb or the shrieve’s posts?

By heaven, I think, a thousand thousand year.

His gravity, his wisdom, and his faith

To my dread sovereign – graces that survive him – 25

These I could well endure to reverence,

But not his tomb, no more than I’ll commend

The chapel organ for the gilt without,

Or this bass viol for the varnished face.

Enter FASTIDIOUS.

FASTIDIOUS

In faith, I have made you stay somewhat long, sir. [To Cinedo] But is 30

my tobacco ready, boy?

CINEDO

Ay, sir.

FASTIDIOUS

Give me. [To Macilente] My mistress is upon coming, you shall see

her presently, sir. ([He puffs] tobacco.) You’ll say you never accosted a more

piercing wit. This tobacco is not dried, boy, or else the pipe’s defective. 35

[He returns the pipe. Cinedo mends it.] Oh, your wits of Italy are nothing comparable

to her; her brain’s a very quiver of jests, and she does dart them abroad with

that sweet loose and judicial aim that you would – Here she comes, sir.

Enter SAVIOLINA.

MACILENTE

[Aside] ’Twas time. His invention had been bogged else.

SAVIOLINA

[Calling offstage] Give me my fan there. 40

And [she] goes in again.

MACILENTE

How now, Monsieur Brisk?

FASTIDIOUS

A kind of affectionate reverence strikes me with a cold shivering,

methinks.

MACILENTE

I like such tempers well, as stand before their mistresses with fear

and trembling, and before their Maker like impudent mountains. 45

FASTIDIOUS

By Jesu, I’d spend twenty pound my vaulting horse stood here now,

she might see me do but one trick!

MACILENTE

Why, does she love activity?

CINEDO

Or if you had but your long stockings on to be dancing a galliard, as she

comes by. 50

fastidious

Ay, either. Oh, these stirring humours make ladies mad with desire.

She comes. My good genius embolden me! Boy, the pipe quickly.

Enter SAVIOLINA.

MACILENTE

[Aside] What, will he give her music?

FASTIDIOUS

A second good morrow to my fair mistress.

SAVIOLINA

Fair servant, I’ll thank you a day hence, when the date of your salutation 55

comes forth.

FASTIDIOUS

[To Macilente] How like you that answer? Is’t not admirable?

MACILENTE

I were a simple courtier if I could not admire trifles, sir.

FASTIDIOUS

Troth, sweet lady, I shall (tobacco) be prepared to give you thanks

for those thanks, and (tobacco) study more officious and obsequious regards 60

(tobacco) to your fair beauties (tobacco). – Mend the pipe, boy. [He returns the

pipe.]

MACILENTE

[Aside] I ne’er knew tobacco taken as a parenthesis before.

FASTIDIOUS

’Fore God, sweet lady, believe it, I do honour the meanest rush in

this chamber for your love. 65

SAVIOLINA

Ay, you need not tell me that, sir. I do think you do prize a rush before

my love.

MACILENTE

[Aside] Is this the wonder of nations?

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, by Jesu, pardon me, I said ‘for your love’, by this light; but it is

the accustomed sharpness of your ingenuity, sweet mistress to – mass, your 70

viol’s new strung, methinks.

[Fastidious] takes down the viol.

MACILENTE

[Aside] Ingenuity? I see his ignorance will not suffer him to slander

her, which he had done most notably, if he had said ‘wit’ for ‘ingenuity’, as

he meant it.

FASTIDIOUS

By the soul of music, lady (hum, hum). 75

SAVIOLINA

Would we might hear it once.

FASTIDIOUS

I do more adore and admire your (hum, hum) predominant perfections

than (hum, hum) ever I shall have power and faculty to express (hum).

SAVIOLINA

Upon the viol da gamba, you mean?

FASTIDIOUS

It’s miserably out of tune, by this hand. 80

SAVIOLINA

Nay, rather by the fingers.

MACILENTE

[Aside] It makes good harmony with her wit.

FASTIDIOUS

Sweet lady, tune it. [He gives her the viol.] Boy, some tobacco.

MACILENTE

[Aside] Tobacco again? He does court his mistress with very exceeding

good changes. 85

FASTIDIOUS

Signor Macilente, you take none, sir? (Tobacco.)

MACILENTE

No, unless I had a mistress, Signor, it were a great indecorum for

me to take tobacco.

FASTIDIOUS

How like you her wit? (Tobacco.)

MACILENTE

Her ingenuity is excellent, sir. 90

FASTIDIOUS

[Indicating Saviolina tuning the viol] You see the subject of her sweet

fingers there? (Tobacco.) Oh, she tickles it so that (tobacco) she makes it laugh

most divinely. (Tobacco.) I’ll tell you a good jest now, and yourself shall say it’s

a good one: I have wished myself to be that instrument, I think, a thousand

times, and not so few, by heavens. (Tobacco.) 95

MACILENTE

Not unlike, sir, but how? To be cased up and hung by on the wall?

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, no sir, to be in use, I assure you, as your judicious eyes may

testify. (Tobacco.)

SAVIOLINA

[Offering the viol] Here, servant, if you will play, come.

FASTIDIOUS

Instantly, sweet lady. ([He continues to puff] tobacco.) In good faith, 100

here’s most divine tobacco.

SAVIOLINA

Nay, I cannot stay to dance after your pipe.

FASTIDIOUS

Good – nay, dear lady, stay. By this sweet smoke, I think your wit

be all fire. (Tobacco.)

MACILENTE

[Aside] And he’s the salamander that lives by it. 105

SAVIOLINA

Is your tobacco perfumed, sir, that you swear by the sweet smoke?

FASTIDIOUS

Still more excellent. Before God and these bright heavens, I think

(Tobacco) you are made of ingenuity, I. (Tobacco.)

MACILENTE

[Aside] True, as your discourse is. Oh, abominable!

FASTIDIOUS

Will Your Ladyship take any? 110

SAVIOLINA

Oh, peace, I pray you. I love not the breath of a woodcock’s head.

FASTIDIOUS

Meaning my head, lady?

SAVIOLINA

Not altogether so, sir. But, as it were fatal to their follies that think to

grace themselves with taking tobacco when they want better entertainment,

you see your pipe bears the true form of a woodcock’s head. 115

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, admirable simile!

SAVIOLINA

’Tis best leaving of you in admiration, sir.

Exit Saviolina.

MACILENTE

[Aside] Are these the admired lady-wits, that, having so good a

plainsong, can run no better division upon it? ’Sheart, all her jests are of

the stamp March was fifteen years ago. – Is this the comet, Monsieur Fastidious, 120

that your gallants wonder at so?

FASTIDIOUS

Heart of a gentleman, to neglect me afore presence thus! Sweet sir,

I beseech you be silent in my disgrace. By Jesu, I never was in so vile a humour

in my life. And her wit was at the flood too. Report it not for a million, good

sir, let me be so far endeared to your love. 125

Exeunt.

GREX

MITIS

What follows next, Signor Cordatus? This gallant’s humour is almost

spent, methinks; it ebbs apace, with this contrary breath of his mistress.

CORDATUS

Oh, but it will flow again, for all this, till there come a general drought

of humour among all our actors, and then I fear not but his will fall as low as

any. See who presents himself here! 130

MITIS

What, i’the old case?

CORDATUS

I’faith, which makes it the more pitiful. You understand where the

scene is?

4.1 Enter FUNGOSO, FALLACE following him.

FALLACE

Why are you so melancholy, brother?

FUNGOSO

I am not melancholy, I thank you, sister.

FALLACE

Why are you not merry, then? There are but two of us in all the world,

and if we should not be comforts to one another, God help us.

FUNGOSO

Faith, I cannot tell, sister, but if a man had any true melancholy in him, 5

it would make him melancholy to see his yeomanly father cut his neighbours’

throats to make his son a gentleman; and yet when he has cut ’em, he will

see his son’s throat cut too, ere he make him a true gentleman indeed, before

death cut his own throat. I must be the first head of our house, and yet he

will not give me the head till I be made so. Is any man termed a gentleman 10

that is not always i’the fashion? I would know but that.

FALLACE

If you be melancholy for that, brother, I think I have as much cause to

be melancholy as one, for I’ll be sworn I live as little in the fashion as any

woman in London. By the bible of heaven (beast that I am to say it), I have not

one friend i’the world besides my husband. When saw you Master Fastidious 15

Brisk, brother?

FUNGOSO

But a while since, sister, I think; I know not well, in truth. By God’s

lid, I could fight with all my heart, methinks.

FALLACE

Nay, good brother, be not resolute.

FUNGOSO

I sent him a letter, and he writes me no answer neither. 20

FALLACE

O sweet Fastidious Brisk! O fine courtier! Thou art he mak’st me sigh

and say, how blessed is that woman that hath a courtier to her husband!

And how miserable a dame she is that hath neither husband nor friend in

the court! O sweet Fastidious, O fine courtier! How comely he bows him in

his curtsy! How full he hits a woman betwixt the lips when he kisses! How 25

upright he sits at the table! How daintily he carves! How sweetly he talks and

tells news of this lord and of that lady! How cleanly he wipes his spoon at

every spoonful of any whitemeat he eats, and what a neat case of picktooths

he carries about him still! O sweet Fastidious, O fine courtier!

Enter DELIRO with MUSICIANS.

DELIRO

See, yonder she is, gentlemen. Now, as ever you’ll bear the name of 30

musicians, touch your instruments sweetly. She has a delicate ear, I tell you;

play not a false note, I beseech you.

MUSICIAN

Fear not, Signor Deliro.

DELIRO

Oh, begin, begin, some sprightly thing.

[The Musicians play.]

Lord, how my imagination labours with the success of it! Well said. Good, 35

i’faith! Heaven grant it please her. I’ll not be seen, for then she’ll be sure to

dislike it.

[He hides himself.]

FALLACE

[Hearing the music] Heyday, this is excellent. I’ll lay my life this is my

husband’s dotage. [She spies Deliro.] I thought so. Nay, never play

peekaboo with me. I know you do nothing but study how to anger me, sir. 40

DELIRO

Anger thee, sweet wife? Why, didst thou not send for musicians to supper

last night thyself?

FALLACE

To supper, sir? Now come up to supper, I beseech you! As though there

were no difference between suppertime when folks should be merry and this

time when they would be melancholy! I would never take upon me to take 45

a wife if I had no more judgement to please her.

DELIRO

Be pleased, sweet wife, and they shall ha’ done. [He motions to the Musicians

to stop playing and leave.] And would to Christ my life were done, if I can never

please thee! Exit Musicians.

Enter MACILENTE.

MACILENTE

God save you, lady. Where is Master Deliro? 50

deliro

Here, Master Macilente. You’re welcome from the court, sir. No doubt

you have been graced exceedingly of Master Brisk’s mistress, and the rest of

the ladies, for his sake.

MACILENTE

Alas, the poor fantastic, he’s scarce known

To any lady there, and those that know him 55

Know him the simplest man of all they know,

Deride and play upon his amorous humours,

Though he but apishly doth imitate

The gallant’st courtiers, kissing ladies’ pumps,

Holding the cloth for them, praising their wits, 60

And servilely observing every one

May do them pleasure, fearful to be seen

With any man, though he be ne’er so worthy,

That’s not in grace with some that are the greatest.

Thus courtiers do, and these he counterfeits, 65

But sets not such a sightly carriage

Upon their vanities as they themselves,

And therefore they despise him; for indeed

He’s like a zany to a tumbler,

That tries tricks after him to make men laugh. 70

FALLACE

[Aside] Here’s an unthankful spiteful wretch! The good gentleman

vouchsafed to make him his companion, because my husband put him into

a few rags, and now see how the unrude rascal backbites him.

DELIRO

Is he no more graced amongst ’em then, say you?

MACILENTE

Faith, like a pawn at chess: fills up a room, that’s all. 75

FALLACE

[Aside] Oh, monster of men! Can the earth bear such an envious caitiff?

DELIRO

Well, I repent me I e’er credited him so much. But, now I see what he

is and that his masking visor is off, I’ll forbear him no longer. All his lands

are mortgaged to me, and forfeited. Besides, I have bonds of his in my hand

for the receipt of now twenty pound, now thirty, now twenty-five. Still, as he 80

has had a fan but wagged at him, he would be in a new suit. Well, I’ll salute

him by a sergeant the next time I see him, i’faith, I’ll suit him.

MACILENTE

Why, you may soon see him, sir, for he is to meet Signor Puntarvolo

at a notary’s by the Exchange, presently, where he means to take up upon

return. 85

FALLACE

Now, out upon thee, Judas! Canst thou not be content to backbite thy

friend, but thou must betray him? Wilt thou seek the undoing of any man?

And of such a man too? [To Deliro] And will you, sir, get your living by the

counsel of traitors?

DELIRO

Dear wife, have patience. 90

FALLACE

The house will fall, the ground will open and swallow us! I’ll not bide here

for all the gold and silver in heaven. Exit.

DELIRO

Oh, good Macilente, let’s follow and appease her, or the peace of my life

is at an end. Exit.

MACILENTE

Now peas, and not peace, feed that life whose head hangs so heavily 95

over a woman’s manger! Exit.

Enter FALLACE running, at another door, and claps it to.

FALLACE

Help me, brother! [To Deliro, within] God’s body, an you come here, I’ll

do myself a mischief!

DELIRO

(Within) Nay, hear me, sweet wife, unless thou wilt have me go, I will not

go. 100

fallace

Tut, you shall ne’er ha’ that vantage of me, to say you are undone by

me. I’ll not bid you stay, I. [Giving Fungoso money] Brother, sweet brother,

here’s four angels I’ll give you toward your suit. For the love of Jesu, and

as ever you came of Christian creature, make haste to the water-side – you

know where Master Fastidious uses to land – and give him warning of my 105

husband’s intent, and tell him of that lean rascal’s treachery. O Jesu, how my

flesh rises at him! Nay, sweet brother, make haste. You may say I would have

writ to him, but that the necessity of the time would not suffer it – he cannot

choose but take it extraordinarily from me – and commend me to him, good

brother. Say I sent you. 110Exit.

FUNGOSO

Let me see: these four angels, and then forty shillings more I can

borrow on my gown in Fetter Lane – well, I will go presently, say on my suit,

pay as much money as I have, and swear myself into credit with my tailor for

the rest. Exit.

4.2 Enter DELIRO, with MACILENTE, speaking as they pass over the stage.

DELIRO

Oh, on my soul, you wrong her, Macilente.

Though she be froward, yet I know she is honest.

MACILENTE

Well, then have I no judgement. Would any woman, but one that

were wild in her affections, have broke out into that immodest and violent

passion against her husband? Or is’t possible – 5

DELIRO

If you love me, forbear. All the arguments i’the world shall never wrest

my heart to believe it. Exeunt.

GREX

CORDATUS

How like you the deciphering of his dotage?

MITIS

Oh, strangely, and of the other’s envy too, that labours so seriously to set

debate betwixt a man and his wife. Stay, here comes the knight adventurer. 10

CORDATUS

Ay, and his scrivener with him.

4.3 Enter PUNTARVOLO, [and] NOTARY, with SERVINGMEN [leading the DOG and holding the Cat].

PUNTARVOLO

I wonder Monsieur Fastidious comes not! But notary, if thou

please to draw the indentures the while, I will give thee the theory.

NOTARY

With all my heart, sir, and I’ll fall in hand with ’em presently.

PUNTARVOLO

Well then, first, the sum is to be understood.

NOTARY

[Writing down Puntarvolo’s instructions] Good, sir. 5

PUNTARVOLO

Next, our several appellations, and character of my Dog and Cat,

must be known. [To Servingman] Show him the Cat, sirrah.

NOTARY

So, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

Then, that the intended point is the Turk’s court in

Constantinople; the time limited for our return, a year; and that if either 10

of us miscarry, the whole venture is lost – these are general, conceiv’st thou?

– or if either of us turn Turk.

NOTARY

Ay, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

Now for particulars: that I may make my travels by sea or land, to

my best liking; and that, hiring a coach for myself, it shall be lawful for my 15

Dog and Cat to ride with me in the said coach.

NOTARY

Very good, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

That I may choose not to give my Dog or Cat fish, for fear of

bones, or any other nutriment that, by the judgement of the most authentical

physicians where I travel, shall be thought dangerous. 20

NOTARY

Well, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

That, after the receipt of his money, he shall neither in his own person,

nor any other, either by direct or indirect means, as magic, witchcraft, or

other such exotic arts, attempt, practice, or complot anything to the prejudice

of me, my Dog, or my Cat; neither shall I use the help of any such sorceries 25

or enchantments, as unctions, to make our skins impenetrable, or to travel

invisible by virtue of a powder or a ring, or to hang any three-forked charm

about my Dog’s neck, secretly conveyed into his collar – understand you? –

but that all be performed sincerely, without fraud or imposture.

NOTARY

So, sir. 30

PUNTARVOLO

That, for testimony of the performance, myself am to bring thence a

Turk’s mustachio, my Dog a hare’s lip, and my Cat the train or tail of a rat.

NOTARY

’Tis done, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

’Tis said, sir, not done, sir. But forward. That upon my return and

landing on the Tower Wharf with the aforesaid testimony, I am to receive 35

five for one, according to the proportion of the sums put forth.

NOTARY

Well, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

Provided that, if before our departure or setting-forth, either

myself or these be visited with sickness or any other casual event, so that the

whole course of the adventure be hindered thereby, that then, he is to return, 40

and I am to receive the prenominated proportion, upon fair and equal terms.

NOTARY

Very good, sir. Is this all?

PUNTARVOLO

It is all, sir, and dispatch them, good notary.

NOTARY

As fast as is possible, sir. Exit.

Enter CARLO.

PUNTARVOLO

Oh, Carlo, welcome. Saw you Monsieur Brisk? 45

CARLO

Not I. Did he appoint you to meet here?

PUNTARVOLO

Ay, and I muse he should be so tardy. He is to take an hundred

pounds of me in venture, if he maintain his promise.

CARLO

Is his hour past?

PUNTARVOLO

Not yet, but it comes on apace. 50

CARLO

Tut, be not jealous of him; he will sooner break all the ten commandments

than his hour. Upon my life in such a case, trust him.

PUNTARVOLO

Methinks, Carlo, you look very smooth? ha?

CARLO

Why, I come but now from a hothouse, I must needs look smooth.

PUNTARVOLO

From a hothouse? 55

CARLO

Ay, do you make a wonder on’t? Why, it’s your only physic. Let a man

sweat once a week in a hothouse, and be well rubbed and frotted with a good

plump juicy wench, and sweet linen, he shall ne’er ha’the pox.

PUNTARVOLO

What? the French pox?

CARLO

The French pox? Our pox! ’Sblood, we have ’em in as good form as they, 60

man, what?

PUNTARVOLO

Let me perish, but thou art a villain. Was your new-created gallant

there with you? Sogliardo?

CARLO

Oh, porpoise, hang him, no! He’s a ledger at Horn’s Ordinary, yonder.

His villainous Ganymede and he ha’been droning a tobacco pipe there, ever 65

sin’ yesterday noon.

PUNTARVOLO

Who, Signor Tripartite, that would give my Dog the whiff?

CARLO

Ay, he. They have hired a chamber and all, private, to practise in, for the

making of the patun, the receipt reciprocal, and a number of other mysteries,

not yet extant. I brought some dozen or twenty gallants this morning to view 70

’em, as you’d do a piece of perspective in at a key-hole, and there we might see

Sogliardo sit in a chair, holding his snout up like a sow under an apple-tree,

while th’other opened his nostrils with a poking-stick to give the smoke a

more free delivery. They had spit some three or fourscore ounces between

’em afore we came away. 75

PUNTARVOLO

How! Spit three or fourscore ounces?

CARLO

Ay, and preserved it in porringers, as a barber does his blood when he

pricks a vein.

PUNTARVOLO

Out, pagan! How dost thou prick the vein of thy friend!

CARLO

Friend? Is there any such foolish thing i’the world? Ha? ’Slid, I ne’er 80

relished it yet.

PUNTARVOLO

Thy humour is the more dangerous.

CARLO

No not a whit, signor. Tut, a man must keep time in all. I can oil my

tongue when I meet him next and look with a good slick forehead; ’twill take

away all soil of suspicion, and that’s enough. What Lynceus can see my heart? 85

Pish, the title of a friend, it’s a vain idle thing, only venerable among fools.

You shall not have one that has any opinion of wit affect it.

Enter DELIRO and MACILENTE.

DELIRO

Save you, good Sir Puntarvolo.

PUNTARVOLO

Signor Deliro! Welcome.

DELIRO

Pray you, sir, did you see Master Fastidious Brisk? I heard he was to meet 90

Your Worship here.

PUNTARVOLO

You heard no figment, sir. I do expect him every minute my watch

strikes.

DELIRO

In good time, sir.

[He walks aside with Macilente.]

CARLO

[Indicating Deliro] There’s a fellow now, looks like one of the patricians 95

of Sparta. Marry, his wit’s after ten i’the hundred. A good bloodhound, a

close-mouthed Dog, he follows the scent well. Marry, he’s at a fault now,

methinks.

PUNTARVOLO

I should wonder at that creature is free from the danger of thy

tongue. 100

CARLO

Oh, I cannot abide these limbs of satin, or rather Satan indeed, that’ll

walk like the children of darkness all day in a melancholy shop, with their

pockets full of blanks, ready to swallow up as many poor unthrifts as come

within the Verge.

PUNTARVOLO

So, and what hast thou for him that is with him now? 105

CARLO

Oh, damn me, immortality! I’ll not meddle with him, the pure element

of fire, all spirit, extraction.

PUNTARVOLO

How, Carlo? Ha, what is he, man?

CARLO

A scholar, Macilente; do you not know him? A lank raw-boned anatomy,

he walks up and down like a charged musket, no man dares encounter him. 110

That’s his rest there.

PUNTARVOLO

His rest? Why, has he a forked head?

CARLO

Pardon me, that’s to be suspended. You are too quick, too apprehensive.

[They walk aside; Deliro and Macilente return.]

DELIRO

[To Macilente] Troth, now I think on’t, I’ll defer it till some other time.

MACILENTE

God’s precious, not by any means, signor, you shall not lose this 115

opportunity. He will be here presently now.

DELIRO

Yes, faith, Macilente, ’tis best. For look you, sir, I shall so exceedingly

offend my wife in’t that –

MACILENTE

Your wife? Now for shame, lose these thoughts and become the

master of your own spirits. Should I, if I had a wife, suffer myself to be thus 120

passionately carried to and fro with the stream of her humour? And neglect

my deepest affairs to serve her affections? ’Sblood, I would geld myself first.

DELIRO

Oh, but signor, had you such a wife as mine is, you would –

MACILENTE

Such a wife? Now God hate me, sir, if ever I discerned any wonder

in your wife yet, with all the speculation I have. I have seen some that ha’ 125

been thought fairer than she, in my time; and I have seen those ha’ not been

altogether so tall, esteemed proper women; and I have seen less noses grow

upon sweeter faces, that have done very well too, in my judgement. But in

good faith, signor, for all this, the gentlewoman is a good pretty-proud hard-favoured

thing, marry, not so peerlessly to be doted upon, I must confess. 130

Nay be not angry.

DELIRO

Well, sir, how ever you please to forget yourself, I have not deserved to

be thus played upon. But henceforth, pray you forbear my house, for I can

but faintly endure the savour of his breath at my table that shall thus jade

me for my courtesies. 135

MACILENTE

Nay then, signor, let me tell you, your wife is no proper woman, by

Jesu, and I suspect her honesty, that’s more, which you may likewise suspect,

if you please. Do you see? I’ll urge you to nothing against your appetite, but,

if you please, you may suspect it.

DELIRO

Good, sir. 140Exit.

MACILENTE

‘Good, sir’? Now horn upon horn pursue thee, thou blind egregious

dotard!

CARLO

[Aside to Puntarvolo] Oh, you shall hear him speak like Envy. – Signor

Macilente, you saw Monsieur Brisk lately? I heard you were with him at the

court. 145

MACILENTE

Ay, Buffone, I was with him.

CARLO

And how is he respected there? I know you’ll deal ingeniously with us. Is

he made of amongst the sweeter sort of gallants?

MACILENTE

Faith, ay, his civet and his casting glass

Have helped him to a place amongst the rest, 150

And there his seniors give him good slight looks

After their garb, smile and salute in French

With some new compliment.

CARLO

What, is this all?

MACILENTE

Why, say that they should show the frothy fool

Such grace as they pretend comes from the heart, 155

He had a mighty windfall, out of doubt.

Why, all their graces are not to do grace

To virtue or desert, but to ride both

With their gilt spurs quite breathless from themselves.

’Tis now esteemed precisianism in wit 160

And a disease in nature to be kind

Toward desert, to love or seek good names.

Who feeds with a good name? Who thrives with loving?

Who can provide feast for his own desires

With serving others? Ha, ha, ha! 165

’Tis folly by our wisest worldlings proved,

If not to gain by love, to be beloved.

CARLO

[To Puntarvolo] How like you him? Is’t not a good spiteful slave? Ha?

PUNTARVOLO

Shrewd, shrewd.

CARLO

Damn me, I could eat his flesh now, divine sweet villain. 170

MACILENTE

Nay, prithee leave. [Drawing Carlo aside] What’s he there?

CARLO

[Aside to Macilente] Who? This i’the starched beard? It’s the dull stiff knight

Puntarvolo, man. He’s to travel now, presently; he has a good knotty wit,

marry, he carries little on’t out of the land with him.

[They walk aside still.]

MACILENTE

How then? 175

CARLO

He puts it forth in venture, as he does his money, upon the return of a

dog and cat.

MACILENTE

Is this he?

CARLO

Ay, this is he, a good tough gentleman; he looks like a chine of brawn at

Shrovetide, out of date and ready to take his leave, or a dry poll of ling upon 180

Easter-Eve, that has furnished the table all Lent, as he has done the city this

last vacation.

MACILENTE

Come, you’ll never leave your stabbing similes. I shall ha’ you aiming

at me with ’em by and by, but –

CARLO

Oh, renounce me then! Pure, honest, good devil, I love thee above the love 185

of women: I could e’en melt in admiration of thee now. God’s so, look here,

man, Sir Dagonet and his squire.

Enter SOGLIARDO and SHIFT.

SOGLIARDO

Save you, my dear gallantos. [To Shift] Nay, come, approach, good

cavalier. [To Puntarvolo] Prithee, sweet knight, know this gentleman; he’s one

that it pleases me to use as my good friend and companion, and therefore do 190

him good offices. – I beseech you, gentles, know him.

PUNTARVOLO

Sir, for Signor Sogliardo’s sake, let it suffice I know you.

SOGLIARDO

Why, by Jesu, I thank you, knight, and it shall suffice. Hark you, Sir

Puntarvolo, you’d little think it, he’s as resolute a piece of flesh as any’s i’the

world. 195

PUNTARVOLO

Indeed, sir?

SOGLIARDO

Upon my gentility, sir. – Carlo, a word with you. [Indicating Shift] Do

you see that same fellow there?

CARLO

What? Cavalier Shift?

SOGLIARDO

Oh, you know him. Cry you mercy! Before God, I think him the 200

tallest man living within the walls of Europe.

CARLO

The walls of Europe! Take heed what you say, signor. Europe’s a huge

thing within the walls.

SOGLIARDO

Tut, an ’twere as huge again, I’d justify what I speak. ’Slid, he

swaggered e’en now in a place where we were. I never saw a man do it more 205

resolute.

CARLO

Nay, indeed, swaggering is a good argument of resolution. [To Macilente]

Do you hear this, signor?

MACILENTE

Ay, to my grief. [Aside] Oh, that such muddy flags,

For every drunken flourish, should achieve 210

The name of manhood, whilst true perfect valour,

Hating to show itself, goes by despised!

’Sblood, I do know now, in a fair just cause,

I dare do more than he, a thousand times.

Why should not they take knowledge of this, ha? 215

And give my worth allowance before his?

Because I cannot swagger. Now the pox

Light on your Picked-hatch prowess!

SOGLIARDO

Why, I tell you, sir, he has been the only bid-stand that ever was,

kept Newmarket, Salisbury Plain, Hockley-i’the-Hole, Gad’s Hill, all the high 220

places of any request. He has had his mares and his geldings, he, ha’ been

worth forty, threescore, a hundred pound a horse, would ha’ sprung you over

hedge and ditch like your greyhound. He has done five hundred robberies

in his time, more or less, I assure you.

PUNTARVOLO

What? And scaped? 225

SOGLIARDO

Scaped! I’faith, ay. He has broken the gaol when he has been in irons

and irons, and been out and in again, and out and in, forty times and not so

few, he.

MACILENTE

[Aside] A fit trumpet to proclaim such a person.

CARLO

But can this be possible? 230

SHIFT

Why ’tis nothing, sir, when a man gives his affections to it.

SOGLIARDO

Good Pylades, discourse a robbery or two, to satisfy these gentlemen

of thy worth.

SHIFT

Pardon me, my dear Orestes, causes have their quiddits, and ’tis ill jesting

with bell-ropes. 235

CARLO

How? Pylades and Orestes?

SOGLIARDO

Ay, he is my Pylades, and I am his Orestes. How like you the conceit?

CARLO

Oh, it’s an old stale interlude device. No, I’ll give you names myself: look

you, he shall be your Judas, and you shall be his elder tree to hang on.

MACILENTE

Nay, rather, let him be Captain Pod, and this his motion, for he does 240

nothing but show him.

CARLO

Excellent! Or thus: you shall be Holden,

and he your camel.

SHIFT

You do not mean to ride, gentlemen? Faith, let me end it for you, gallants: you shall be his Countenance,

PUNTARVOLO

and he your Resolution. 245

SOGLIARDO

Troth, that’s pretty. How say you, cavalier, shall’t be so?

CARLO

Ay, ay, most voices.

SHIFT

Faith, I am eas’ly yielding to any good impressions.

SOGLIARDO

Then give hands, good Resolution.

CARLO

Mass, he cannot say good Countenance now, properly, to him again. 250

puntarvolo

Yes, by an irony.

MACILENTE

Oh, sir, the countenance of Resolution should, as he’s altogether

grim and unpleasant.

Enter [FASTIDIOUS] BRISK.

FASTIDIOUS

Good hours make music with your mirth, gentlemen, and keep

time to your humours. How now, Carlo? 255

PUNTARVOLO

Monsieur Brisk! Many a long look have I extended for you, sir.

FASTIDIOUS

Good faith, I must crave pardon. I was invited this morning, ere I

was out of my bed, by a bevy of ladies to a banquet, whence it was almost one

of Hercules’ labours for me to come away, but that the respect of my promise

did so prevail with me. I know they’ll take it very ill, especially one that gave 260

me this bracelet of her hair but overnight, and this pearl another gave me

from her forehead; marry, she – What, are the writings ready?

PUNTARVOLO

I will send my man to know. [To Servingman] Sirrah, go you to the

notary’s and learn if he be ready. Leave the Dog, sir.

Exit Servingman.

FASTIDIOUS

And how does my rare qualified friend, Sogliardo? Oh, Signor 265

Macilente! By these eyes, I saw you not, I had saluted you sooner else, on

my troth. [Aside to Macilente] I hope, sir, I may presume upon you that you will

not divulge my late check or disgrace, indeed, sir.

MACILENTE

You may, sir.

CARLO

[Aside] ’Sheart, he knows some notorious jest by this gull, that he hath 270

him so obsequious.

SOGLIARDO

Monsieur Fastidious, do you see this fellow there? [Indicating Shift]

Does he not look like a clown? Would you think there’s anything in him?

FASTIDIOUS

Anything in him? Beshrew me, ay, the fellow hath a good ingenious

face. 275

sogliardo

By this element, he is an ingenious tall man as ever swaggered about

London. He and I call Countenance and Resolution, but his name is Cavalier

Shift.

PUNTARVOLO

[To Shift] Cavalier, you knew Signor Clog, that was hanged for the

robbery at Harrow-on-the-hill? 280

SOGLIARDO

Knew him, sir! Why, ’twas he gave all the directions for the action.

PUNTARVOLO

[To Shift] How? Was’t your project, sir?

SHIFT

[To Sogliardo] Pardon me, Countenance, you do me some wrong to make

that public, which I imparted to you in private.

SOGLIARDO

God’s will, here are none but friends, Resolution. 285

SHIFT

That’s all one. Things of consequence must have their respects, where,

how, and to whom. [To Puntarvolo] Yes, sir, he showed himself a true clog in

the coherence of that affair, sir; for if he had managed matters as they were

corroborated to him, it had been better for him by a forty or fifty score of

pounds, sir, and he himself might ha’ lived, in despite of Fate, to have fed 290

on woodcocks with the rest. But it was his heavy fortunes to sink, poor Clog,

and therefore talk no more of him.

PUNTARVOLO

Why, had he more agents, then?

SOGLIARDO

Oh, God, sir, ay, there were some present there that were the Nine

Worthies to him, i’faith. 295

SHIFT

Ay, sir, I can satisfy you at more convenient conference. But, for mine own

part, I have now reconciled myself to other courses, and profess a living out

of my other qualities.

SOGLIARDO

[To the others] Nay, he has left all now, I assure you, and is able

to live like a gentleman by his quality. By this Dog, he has the most rare gift in 300

tobacco that ever you knew.

CARLO

[To Macilente] ’Sheart, he keeps more ado with this monster than ever

Banks did with his horse, or the fellow with the elephant.

MACILENTE

[To Carlo] He will hang out his picture shortly in a cloth, you shall

see. 305

SOGLIARDO

Oh, he does manage a quarrel the best that ever you saw, for terms

and circumstances.

FASTIDIOUS

Good faith, signor, now you speak of a quarrel, I’ll acquaint you

with a difference that happened between a gallant and myself. Sir Puntarvolo,

you know him if I should name him: Signor Luculento. 310

PUNTARVOLO

Luculento! What inauspicious chance interposed itself betwixt

your two loves?

FASTIDIOUS

Faith, sir, the same that sundered Agamemnon and great Thetis’

son. But let the cause escape, sir. He sent me a challenge, mixed with some

few braves, which I restored, and in fine we met. Now indeed, sir, I must 315

tell you, he did offer at first very desperately, but without judgement; for

look you, sir, I cast myself into this figure. [He strikes a fencing pose.] Now he

comes violently on, and, withal advancing his rapier to strike, I thought to

have took his arm, for he had left his whole body to my election, and I was

sure he could not recover his guard. Sir, I missed my purpose in his arm, 320

rashed his doublet sleeve, ran him close by the left cheek, and through his

hair. He again lights me here – I had a gold cable hatband then new come up,

which I wore about a murrey French hat I had – cuts my hatband (and yet it was

massy, goldsmith’s work), cuts my brims, which, by good fortune, being

thick-embroidered with gold twist and spangles, disappointed the force of 325

the blow; nevertheless, it grazed on my shoulder, takes me away six purls of

an Italian cutwork band I wore, cost me three pounds in the Exchange but

three days before.

PUNTARVOLO

This was a strange encounter.

FASTIDIOUS

Nay, you shall hear, sir. With this we both fell out and breathed. 330

Now, upon the second sign of his assault, I betook me to the former manner

of my defence. He, on the other side, abandoned his body to the same danger

as before, and follows me still with blows. But I, being loath to take the deadly

advantage that lay before me of his left side, made a kind of stramazoun, ran

him up to the hilts, through the doublet, through the shirt, and yet missed 335

the skin. He, making a reverse blow, falls upon my embossed girdle – I had

thrown off the hangers a little before – strikes off a skirt of a thick-laced satin doublet

I had, lined with some four taffetas, cuts off two panes embroidered

with pearl, rends through the drawings-out of tissue, enters the linings, and

skips the flesh. 340

CARLO

[Aside to Macilente] I wonder he speaks not of his wrought shirt.

FASTIDIOUS

Here, in the opinion of mutual damage, we paused. But, ere I

proceed, I must tell you, signor, that in this last encounter, not having leisure

to put off my silver spurs, one of the rowels catched hold of the ruffle of my

boot, and, being Spanish leather and subject to tear, overthrows me, rends 345

me two pair of silk stockings that I put on – being somewhat a raw morning,

a peach colour and another – and strikes me some half-inch deep into the

side of the calf. He, seeing the blood come, presently takes horse and away. I,

having bound up my wound with a piece of my wrought shirt –

CARLO

[Aside to Macilente] Oh, comes it there? 350

FASTIDIOUS

– Rid after him, and, lighting at the court-gate both together,

embraced and marched hand in hand up into the presence.

MACILENTE

[Aside to Carlo] Well, by this we can guess what apparel the gentlemen

wore.

PUNTARVOLO

’Fore God, it was a designment begun with much resolution, 355

maintained with as much prowess, and ended with more humanity.

His SERVINGMAN enters.

How now, what says he?

The notary says he is ready, sir; he stays but Your Worship’s pleasure.

PUNTARVOLO

[To Fastidious] Come, we will go to him, monsieur. Gentlemen,

shall we entreat you to be witnesses? 360

SOGLIARDO

You shall entreat me, sir. Come, Resolution.

SHIFT

I follow you, good Countenance.

CARLO

[To Macilente] Come signor, come, come.

MACILENTE [aside]

Oh, that there should be fortune

To clothe these men, so naked in desert, 365

And that the just storm of a wretched life

Beats ’em not ragged for their wretched souls,

And since as fruitless, even as black as coals! Exeunt.

GREX

MITIS

Why, but signor, how comes it that Fungoso appeared not with his sister’s

intelligence to Brisk? 370

CORDATUS

Marry, long of the evil angels that she gave him, who have indeed

tempted the good simple youth to follow the tail of the fashion and neglect the

imposition of his friends. Behold, here he comes, very worshipfully attended,

and with good variety.

4.4 Enter FUNGOSO with TAILOR, SHOEMAKER, and HABERDASHER.

FUNGOSO

Gramercy, good shoemaker. I’ll put to strings myself.

Exit Shoemaker.

FUNGOSO

[To Haberdasher] Now, sir, let me see, what must you have for this hat?

HABERDASHER

Here’s the bill, sir.

FUNGOSO

How does’t become me? Well?

TAILOR

Excellent, sir, as ever you had any hat in your life. 5

HABERDASHER

Nay, faith, sir, the hat’s as good as any man i’this town can serve

you, and will maintain fashion as long, ne’er trust me for a groat else.

FUNGOSO

Does it apply well to my suit?

TAILOR

Exceeding well, sir.

FUNGOSO

How lik’st thou my suit, haberdasher? 10

HABERDASHER

By my troth, sir, ’tis very rarely well made. I never saw a suit sit

better, I can tell on.

TAILOR

Nay, we have no art to please our friends, we.

FUNGOSO

[Giving money] Here, haberdasher, tell this same.

HABERDASHER

Good faith, sir, it makes you have an excellent body. 15

fungoso

Nay, believe me, I think I have as good a body in clothes as another.

TAILOR

You lack points to bring your apparel together.

FUNGOSO

I’ll have points anon. [Indicating the money] How now, is’t right?

HABERDASHER

Faith, sir, ’tis too little, but upon farther hopes. Good morrow

to you, sir. 20

Exit Haberdasher.

FUNGOSO

Farewell, good haberdasher. Well now, Master Snip, let me see your

bill.

GREX

MITIS

Methinks he discharges his followers too thick.

CORDATUS

Oh, therein he saucily imitates some great man. I warrant you,

though he turns off them, he keeps this tailor in place of a page to follow him 25

still.

FUNGOSO

This bill is very reasonable, in faith. Hark you, Master Snip. Troth, sir,

I am not altogether so well furnished at this present as I could wish I were.

But, if you’ll do me the favour to take part in hand, you shall have all I have,

by Jesu. 30

TAILOR

Sir –

FUNGOSO

– And but give me credit for the rest, till the beginning of the next

term.

TAILOR

Oh, Lord, sir –

FUNGOSO

– ’Fore God and by his light, I’ll pay you to the utmost, and acknowledge 35

myself very deeply engaged to you, by this hand.

TAILOR

Why, how much have you there, sir?

FUNGOSO

Marry, I have here four angels and fifteen shillings of white money;

it’s all I have, as ’hope to be saved.

TAILOR

You will not fail me at the next term with the rest? 40

fungoso

No. An I do, pray God I be hanged. Let me never breathe again upon

this mortal stage, as the philosopher calls it. By this air, and as I am a gentleman,

I’ll hold.

GREX

CORDATUS

He were an iron-hearted fellow, in my judgement, that would not

credit him upon these monstrous oaths. 45

TAILOR

Well, sir, I’ll not stick with any gentleman for a trifle. You know what

’tis remains?

FUNGOSO

Ay, sir, and I give you thanks, in good faith. O God, how happy am I

made in this good fortune! Well, now I’ll go seek out Monsieur Brisk. God’s

so! I have forgot ribbon for my shoes, and points. ’Slid, what luck’s this! How 50

shall I do? Master Snip, pray let me reduct some two or three shillings for

points and ribbon. By Jesu, I have utterly disfurnished myself in the default

of memory. Pray, le’ me be beholding to you; it shall come home i’the bill,

believe me.

TAILOR

Faith, sir, I can hardly depart with money, but I’ll take up and send you 55

some by my boy presently. What coloured ribbon would you have?

FUNGOSO

What you shall think meet, i’your judgement, sir, to my suit.

TAILOR

Well, I’ll send you some presently.

FUNGOSO

And points too, sir?

TAILOR

And points too, sir. 60

FUNGOSO

Good lord, how shall I study to deserve this kindness of you, sir! Pray

let your youth make haste, for I should have done a business an hour since,

that I doubt I shall come too late. Exit Tailor.

Now in good truth, I am exceeding proud of my suit! Exit.

GREX

CORDATUS

Do you observe the plunges that this poor gallant is put to, signor, 65

to purchase the fashion?

MITIS

Ay, and to be still a fashion behind with the world, that’s the sport.

CORDATUS

Stay. Oh, here they come from ‘sealed and delivered’.

4.5 Enter PUNTARVOLO, FASTIDIOUS BRISK, [and] SERVINGMEN with the DOG [and Cat].

PUNTARVOLO

Well, now my whole venture is forth, I will resolve to depart

shortly.

FASTIDIOUS

Faith, Sir Puntarvolo, go to the court, and take leave of the ladies

first.

PUNTARVOLO

I care not if it be this afternoon’s labour. Where is Carlo? 5

FASTIDIOUS

Here he comes.

Enter CARLO, SOGLIARDO, SHIFT, and MACILENTE.

CARLO

Faith, gallants, I am persuading this gentleman [Indicating Sogliardo] to

turn courtier. He is a man of fair revenue, and his estate will bear the charge

well. Besides, for his other gifts of the mind, or so, why, they are as nature

lent him ’em: pure, simple, without any artificial drug or mixture of these 10

two threadbare beggarly qualities, learning and knowledge, and therefore

the more accommodate and genuine. Now, for the life itself –

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, the most celestial, and full of wonder and delight that can be

imagined, signor, beyond all thought and apprehension of pleasure! A

man lives there in that divine rapture, that he will think himself i’the third15

heaven for the time, and lose all sense of mortality whatsoever. When he shall

behold such glorious and almost immortal beauties, hear such angelical and

harmonious voices, discourse with such flowing and ambrosian spirits –

whose wit’s as sudden as lightning and humorous as nectar – Oh, it makes

a man all quintessence and flame, and lifts him up in a moment to the very 20

crystal crown o’the sky, where, hovering in the strength of his imagination,

he shall behold all the delights of the Hesperides, the Insulae Fortunatae,

Adonis’ gardens, Tempe, or what else confined within the amplest verge

of poesy to be mere umbrae and imperfect figures, conferred with the most

essential felicity of your court. 25

MACILENTE

[To Carlo] Well, this encomium was not extemporal; it came too

perfectly off.

CARLO

[To Sogliardo] Besides, sir, you shall never need to go to a hothouse; you shall

sweat there with courting your mistress, or losing your money at primero, as

well as in all the stoves in Flanders. Marry this, sir, you must ever be sure to 30

carry a good strong perfume about you, that your mistress’s dog may smell

you out amongst the rest; and, in making love to her, never fear to be out,

for you may have a pipe of tobacco, or a bass viol shall hang o’the wall of

purpose, will put you in presently. The tricks your Resolution has taught

you in tobacco – the whiff, and those sleights – will stand you in very good 35

ornament there.

FASTIDIOUS

Ay, to some, perhaps. But, an he should come to my mistress with

tobacco, this gentleman knows [Indicating Macilente] she’d reply upon him,

i’faith. Oh, by this bright sun, she has the most acute, ready, and facetious

wit, that – tut, there’s no spirit able to stand her. [To Macilente] You can report 40

it, signor, you have seen her.

PUNTARVOLO

Then can he report no less out of his judgement, I assure him.

MACILENTE

Troth, I like her well enough, but she’s too self-conceited, methinks.

FASTIDIOUS

Ay, indeed, she’s a little too self-conceited; an ’twere not for that

humour, she were the most-to-be-admired lady in the world. 45

PUNTARVOLO

Indeed it is a humour that takes from her other excellencies.

MACILENTE

Why, it may easily be made to forsake her, in my thought.

FASTIDIOUS

Easily, sir? Then are all impossibilities easy.

MACILENTE

You conclude too quick upon me, signor. What will you say if I

make it so perspicuously appear now that yourself shall confess nothing 50

more possible?

FASTIDIOUS

Marry, I will say, I will both applaud you and admire you for it.

PUNTARVOLO

And I will second him.

MACILENTE

Why, I’ll show you, gentlemen. Carlo come hither.

Macilente, Carlo, Puntarvolo, and Brisk whisper.

SOGLIARDO

[To Shift] Good faith, I have a great humour to the court. What thinks 55

my Resolution? Shall I adventure?

SHIFT

Troth, Countenance, as you please; the place is a place of good reputation

and capacity.

SOGLIARDO

Oh, my tricks in tobacco, as Carlo says, will show excellent there.

SHIFT

Why, you may go with these gentlemen now and see fashions, and after, 60

as you shall see correspondence.

SOGLIARDO

You say true. You will go with me, Resolution?

SHIFT

I will meet you, Countenance, about three or four of clock. But to say

to go with you, I cannot, for, as I am Apple John, I am to go before the

cockatrice you saw this morning, and therefore pray present me excused, 65

good Countenance.

SOGLIARDO

Farewell, good Resolution, but fail not to meet.

SHIFT

As I live. Exit Shift.

They [Macilente, Carlo, Puntarvolo, and Brisk] break silence.

PUNTARVOLO

Admirably excellent.

MACILENTE

If you can but persuade Sogliardo to the court, there’s all now. 70

CARLO

Oh, let me alone, that’s my task. [Carlo takes Sogliardo aside.]

FASTIDIOUS

Now, by Jesu, Macilente, it’s above measure excellent; ’twill be the

only courtly exploit that ever proved courtier ingenious.

PUNTARVOLO

Upon my soul, it puts the lady quite out of her humour, and we

shall laugh with judgement. 75

carlo

[Returning] Come, the gentleman was of himself resolved to go with you,

afore I moved it.

MACILENTE

Why then, gallants, you two and Carlo go afore to prepare the jest.

Sogliardo and I will come some while after you.

CARLO

Pardon me, I am not for the court. 80

PUNTARVOLO

That’s true, Carlo comes not at the court, indeed. Well, you shall

leave it to the faculty of Monsieur Brisk and myself; upon our lives, we will

manage it happily. Carlo shall bespeak supper at the Mitre against we come

back, where we will meet and dimple our cheeks with laughter at the success.

CARLO

Ay, but will you all promise to come? 85

PUNTARVOLO

Myself shall mansuete it for them. He that fails, let his reputation

lie under the lash of thy tongue.

Enter FUNGOSO [in his new suit].

CARLO

God’s so, look who comes here.

SOGLIARDO

What, nephew?

FUNGOSO

Uncle, God save you. Did you see a gentleman, one Monsieur Brisk, a 90

courtier? He goes in such a suit as I do.

SOGLIARDO

[Indicating Fastidious] Here is the gentleman, nephew, but not in

such a suit.

FUNGOSO

Another suit! He swoons.

SOGLIARDO

How now, nephew? 95

FASTIDIOUS

[To Fungoso] Would you speak to me, sir?

CARLO

Ay, when he has recovered himself, poor poll.

PUNTARVOLO

Some rosa solis.

MACILENTE

[To Fungoso] How now, signor?

FUNGOSO

I am not well, sir. 100

MACILENTE

Why, this it is to dog the fashion.

CARLO

Nay, come, gentlemen, remember your affairs; his disease is nothing but

the flux of apparel.

PUNTARVOLO

[To Servingmen] Sirs, return to the lodging. Keep the Cat safe; I’ll

be the Dog’s guardian myself. 105

Exeunt Servingmen [with the Cat].

SOGLIARDO

Nephew, will you go to the court with us? These gentlemen and I

are for the court. Nay, be not so melancholy.

FUNGOSO

By God’s lid, I think no man in Christendom has that rascally fortune

that I have.

MACILENTE

Faith, your suit is well enough, signor. 110

FUNGOSO

Nay, not for that I protest, but I had an errand to Monsieur Fastidious,

and I have forgot it.

MACILENTE

Why, go along to the court with us and remember it, come. – Gentlemen,

you three take one boat, and Sogliardo and I will take another; we

shall be there instantly. 115

FASTIDIOUS

Content. [To Fungoso] Good sir, vouchsafe us your pleasance.

PUNTARVOLO

Farewell Carlo; remember.

CARLO

I warrant you; would I had one of Kemp’s shoes to throw after you.

PUNTARVOLO

Good fortune will close the eyes of our jest. Fear not, and we shall

frolic. 120Exeunt.

GREX

MITIS

This Macilente, signor, begins to be more sociable on a sudden, methinks,

than he was before. There’s some portent in’t, I believe.

CORDATUS

Oh, he’s a fellow of a strange nature. Now does he, in this calm of his

humour, plot and store up a world of malicious thoughts in his brain, till he

is so full with ’em that you shall see the very torrent of his envy break forth, 125

and against the course of all their affections oppose itself so violently that

you will almost have wonder to think how ’tis possible the current of their

dispositions shall receive so quick and strong an alteration.

MITIS

Ay, marry, sir, this is that on which my expectation has dwelt all this while;

for I must tell you, signor, though I was loath to interrupt the scene, yet I 130

made it a question in mine own private discourse how he should properly

call it Every Man Out of His Humour when I saw all his actors so strongly pursue

and continue their humours.

CORDATUS

Why, therein his art appears most full of lustre, and approacheth

nearest the life, especially when in the flame and height of their humours 135

they are laid flat; it fills the eye better and with more contentment. How

tedious a sight were it to behold a proud exalted tree lopped and cut down by

degrees, when it might be felled in a moment! And, to set the axe to it before

it came to that pride and fulness, were as not to have it grow.

MITIS

Well, I shall long till I see this fall you talk of. 140

CORDATUS

To help your longing, signor, let your imagination be swifter than a

pair of oars, and, by this, suppose Puntarvolo, Brisk, Fungoso, and the Dog

arrived at the court gate and going up to the great chamber. Macilente and

Sogliardo, we’ll leave them on the water till possibility and natural means

may land ’em. Here come the gallants; now prepare your expectation. 145

5.1 Enter PUNTARVOLO, FASTIDIOUS BRISK, FUNGOSO, and the DOG.

PUNTARVOLO

Come, lordings. [To Fungoso] Signor, you are sufficiently

instructed?

FASTIDIOUS

Who, I, sir?

PUNTARVOLO

[Indicating Fungoso] No, this gentleman. But stay, I take thought

how to bestow my Dog. He is no competent attendant for the presence. 5

FASTIDIOUS

Mass, that’s true indeed, knight. You must not carry him into the

presence.

PUNTARVOLO

I know it, and I, like a dull beast, forgot to bring one of my

cormorants to attend me.

FASTIDIOUS

Why, you’re best leave him at the porter’s lodge. 10

PUNTARVOLO

Not so. His worth is too well known amongst them to be

forthcoming.

FASTIDIOUS

’Slight, how’ll you do then?

PUNTARVOLO

I must leave him with one that is ignorant of his quality, if I will

have him to be safe. And see, here comes one that will carry coals, ergo, will 15

hold my Dog.

Enter a GROOM with a basket [of coals].

My honest friend, may I commit the tuition of this Dog to thy prudent care?

GROOM

You may if you please, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

Pray thee, let me find thee here at my return; it shall not be long

till I will ease thee of thy employment and please thee. [To the others] Forth, 20

gentles.

FASTIDIOUS

Why, but will you leave him with so slight command, and infuse

no more charge upon the fellow?

PUNTARVOLO

Charge? No, there were no policy in that; that were to let him

know the value of the gem he holds, and so to tempt frail nature against her 25

disposition. [To the Groom] No, pray thee let thy honesty be sweet and short.

GROOM

Yes, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

[To the others] But hark you, gallants, and chiefly Monsieur Brisk:

when we come in eyeshot or presence of this lady, let not other matters carry

us from our project, but, if we can, single her forth to some place. 30

FASTIDIOUS

I warrant you.

PUNTARVOLO

And be not too sudden, but let the device induce itself with good

circumstance. On.

FUNGOSO

Is this the way? Good truth, here be fine hangings.

Exeunt Puntarvolo, Brisk, [and] Fungoso.

GROOM

Honesty, sweet and, short? Marry it shall, sir, doubt you not. For even 35

at this instant if one would give me twenty pounds, I would not deliver him:

there’s for the sweet. But now, if any man come offer me but twopence,

he shall have him: there’s for the short now. ’Sblood, what a mad humorous

gentleman is this to leave his Dog with me. I could run away with him now

an he were worth anything. Well, I pray God send him quickly again. 40

Enter MACILENTE and SOGLIARDO.

MACILENTE

Come on, signor, now prepare to court this all-witted lady, most

naturally and like yourself.

SOGLIARDO

Faith, an you say the word, I’ll begin to her in tobacco.

MACILENTE

Oh, fie on’t. No, you shall begin with ‘How does my sweet lady’, or

‘Why are you so melancholy, madam?’ Though she be very merry, it’s all one. 45

Be sure to kiss your hand often enough. Pray for her health and tell her how

‘more than most fair’ she is. Screw your face at one side thus [He demonstrates]

and protest. Let her fleer and look askance and hide her teeth with her fan

when she laughs a fit, to bring her into more matter; that’s nothing. You

must talk forward – though it be without sense, so it be without blushing – 50

’tis most courtlike and well.

SOGLIARDO

But shall I not use tobacco at all?

MACILENTE

Oh, by no means. ’Twill but make your breath suspected and that

you use it only to confound the rankness of that.

SOGLIARDO

Nay, I’ll be advised, sir, by my friends. 55

MACILENTE

God’s my life, see where Sir Puntar’s Dog is!

GROOM

[Aside] I would the gentleman would return for his follower here. I’ll

leave him to his fortunes else.

MACILENTE

[Aside] ’Sheart, ’twere the only true jest in the world to poison him

now. Ha! By God’s will, I’ll do it, if I could but get him of the fellow. – Signor 60

Sogliardo, walk aside, and think upon some device to entertain the lady with.

SOGLIARDO

So I do, sir.

Sogliardo walks off, meditating.

MACILENTE

[To the Groom] How now, mine honest friend? Whose dog-keeper art

thou?

GROOM

Dog-keeper, sir? I hope I scorn that, i’faith. 65

MACILENTE

Why, dost thou not keep a dog?

GROOM

Sir, now I do, and now I do not. (Throws off the Dog.) I think this be sweet

and short. Make me his dog-keeper? And exit.

MACILENTE

This is excellent above expectation. [To the Dog] Nay, stay, sir. You’d be

travelling, but I’ll give you a dram shall shorten your voyage. [He feeds the 70

Dog poison.] Here. So sir, I’ll be bold to take my leave of you. Now to the Turk’s

court in the devil’s name, for you shall never go on God’s name.

[Macilente] kicks him [the Dog] out.

Sogliardo! Come.

SOGLIARDO

I ha’ it, i’faith now, will sting it.

MACILENTE

Take heed you leese it not, Signor, ere you come there. Preserve it. 75

Exeunt.

GREX

CORDATUS

How like you this first exploit of his?

MITIS

Oh, a piece of true envy. But I expect the issue of the other device.

CORDATUS

Here they come, will make it appear.

5.2 Enter PUNTARVOLO, SAVIOLINA, FASTIDIOUS BRISK, [and] FUNGOSO.

SAVIOLINA

Why, I thought, Sir Puntarvolo, you had been gone your voyage?

PUNTARVOLO

Dear and most amiable lady, your divine beauties do bind me to those

offices, that I cannot depart when I would.

SAVIOLINA

’Tis most courtlike spoken, sir, but how might we do to have a sight

of your Dog and cat? 5

FASTIDIOUS

His Dog’s in the court, lady.

SAVIOLINA

And not your cat? How dare you trust her behind you, sir?

PUNTARVOLO

Troth, madam, she hath sore eyes and she doth keep her chamber.

Marry, I have left her under sufficient guard. There are two of my hinds to

attend her. 10

SAVIOLINA

I’ll give you some water for her eyes. When do you go, sir?

PUNTARVOLO

Certes, sweet lady, I know not.

FASTIDIOUS

He doth stay the rather, madam, to present your acute judgement

with so courtly and well-parted a gentleman, as yet Your Ladyship hath never

seen. 15

SAVIOLINA

What’s he, gentle Monsieur Brisk? [Indicating Fungoso] Not that

gentleman?

FASTIDIOUS

No, lady, this is a kinsman of Justice Silence.

PUNTARVOLO

Pray, sir, give me leave to report him: he’s a gentleman, lady, of that

rare and admirable faculty, as I protest I know not his like in Europe. 20

He is exceedingly valiant, an excellent scholar, and so exactly travelled that

he is able in discourse to deliver you a model of any prince’s court in the

world; speaks the languages with that purity of phrase and facility of accent

that it breeds astonishment; his wit, the most exuberant and (above wonder)

pleasant of all that ever entered the concave of this ear! 25

FASTIDIOUS

’Tis most true, lady; marry, he is no such excellent proper man.

PUNTARVOLO

His travels have changed his complexion, madam.

SAVIOLINA

Oh, Sir Puntarvolo, you must think every man was not born to have

my servant Brisk’s feature.

PUNTARVOLO

But that which transcends all, lady, he doth so peerlessly imitate 30

any manner of person for gesture, action, passion, or whatever –

FASTIDIOUS

Ay, especially a rustic or a clown, madam, that it is not possible for

the sharpest-sighted wit in the world to discern any sparks of the gentleman

in him, when he does it.

SAVIOLINA

Oh, Monsieur Brisk, be not so tyrannous to confine all wits within 35

the compass of your own. Not find the sparks of a gentleman in him, if he be

a gentleman?

FUNGOSO

No, in truth, sweet lady, I believe you cannot.

SAVIOLINA

Do you believe so? Why, I can find sparks of a gentleman in you, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

Ay, he is a gentleman, madam, and a reveller. 40

FUNGOSO

Indeed, I think I have seen Your Ladyship at our revels.

SAVIOLINA

Like enough, sir. But would I might see this wonder you talk of. May

one have a sight of him for any reasonable sum?

PUNTARVOLO

Yes, madam, he will arrive presently.

SAVIOLINA

What, and shall we see him clown it? 45

FASTIDIOUS

I’faith, sweet lady, that you shall. See, here he comes.

Enter MACILENTE with SOGLIARDO.

PUNTARVOLO

This is he; pray observe him, lady.

SAVIOLINA

Beshrew me, he clowns it properly indeed.

PUNTARVOLO

Nay, mark his courtship.

SOGLIARDO

How does my sweet lady? [Taking her hand] Hot and moist? Beautiful 50

and lusty? Ha?

SAVIOLINA

Beautiful, an it please you, sir, but not lusty.

SOGLIARDO

Oh, ho, lady, it pleases you to say so, in truth. And how does my sweet

lady? In health? Bona-roba, quaeso que novelles? Que novelles, sweet creature?

SAVIOLINA

Oh, excellent! Why, gallants, is this he that cannot be deciphered? 55

They were very blear-witted, i’faith, that could not discern the gentleman in

him.

PUNTARVOLO

But do you, in earnest, lady?

SAVIOLINA

Do I, sir? Why, if you had any true court-judgement in the carriage

of his eye, and that inward power that forms his countenance, you might 60

perceive his counterfeiting as clear as the noonday. Alas – nay, if you would

have tried my wit indeed, you should never have told me he was a gentleman,

but presented him for a true clown indeed, and then have seen if I could have

deciphered him.

FASTIDIOUS

’Fore God, Her Ladyship says true, knight. But does he not affect 65

the clown most naturally, mistress?

PUNTARVOLO

Oh, she cannot but affirm that, out of the bounty of her

judgement.

SAVIOLINA

Nay, out of doubt he does well for a gentleman to imitate. But I

warrant you, he becomes his natural carriage of the gentleman much better 70

than his clownery.

FASTIDIOUS

’Tis strange, in truth, Her Ladyship should see so far into him.

PUNTARVOLO

Ay, is’t not?

SAVIOLINA

Faith, as easily as may be. Not decipher him, quoth you?

FUNGOSO

Good sadness, I wonder at it. 75

MACILENTE

Why, has she deciphered him, gentlemen?

PUNTARVOLO

Oh, most miraculously, and beyond admiration.

MACILENTE

Is’t possible?

FASTIDIOUS

She hath given most infallible signs of the gentleman in him, that’s

certain. 80

SAVIOLINA

Why, gallants, let me laugh at you a little. Was this your device to try

my judgement in a gentleman?

MACILENTE

Nay, lady, do not scorn us. Though you have this gift of perspicacy

above others, what if he should be no gentleman now, but a clown indeed,

lady? 85

PUNTARVOLO

How think you of that? Would not Your Ladyship be out of your

humour?

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, but she knows it is not so.

SAVIOLINA

What if he were not a man, ye may as well say? Nay, if Your Worships

could gull me so indeed, you were wiser than you are taken for. 90

MACILENTE

In good faith, lady, he is a very perfect clown, both by father and

mother, that I’ll assure you.

SAVIOLINA

Oh, sir, you are very pleasurable.

MACILENTE

Nay, do but look on his hand, and that shall resolve you. [Showing

Sogliardo’s hand] Look you, lady, what a palm here is. 95

SOGLIARDO

Tut, that was with holding the plough.

MACILENTE

The plough! Did you discern any such thing in him, madam?

FASTIDIOUS

Faith, no, she saw the gentleman as bright as at noonday, she; she

deciphered him at first.

MACILENTE

Troth, I am sorry Your Ladyship’s sight should be so suddenly 100

struck.

SAVIOLINA

Oh, you’re goodly beagles! [She begins to leave.]

FASTIDIOUS

What, is she gone?

SOGLIARDO

Nay stay, sweet lady! Que novelles? Que novelles?

SAVIOLINA

Out, you fool you! 105Exit Saviolina.

FUNGOSO

She’s out of her humour, i’faith.

FASTIDIOUS

Nay, let’s follow it while ’tis hot, gentlemen.

PUNTARVOLO

Come, on mine honour, we’ll make her blush in the presence. My

spleen is great with laughter.

MACILENTE

Your laughter will be a child of a feeble life, I believe, sir. [To Fungoso] 110

Come, signor, your looks are too dejected, methinks. Why mix you not mirth

with the rest?

FUNGOSO

By God’s will, this suit frets me at the soul. I’ll have it altered tomorrow

sure. Exeunt.

Enter SHIFT.

SHIFT

I am come to the court to meet with my Countenance, Sogliardo. Poor men 115

must be glad of such countenance, when they can get no better. Well, need

may insult upon a man, but it shall never make him despair of consequence.

The world will say ‘’tis base’. Tush, base! ’Tis base to live under the earth, not

base to live above it, by any means.

Enter PUNTARVOLO, FASTIDIOUS [brisk], SOGLIARDO, FUNGOSO, [and] MACILENTE.

FASTIDIOUS

The poor lady is most miserably out of her humour, i’faith. 120

PUNTARVOLO

There was never so witty a jest broken at the tilt of all the court

wits christened!

MACILENTE

[Aside] Oh, this applause taints it foully.

SOGLIARDO

I think I did my part in courting. [Noticing Shift] Oh, Resolution!

PUNTARVOLO

[Looking for the Groom] Ay me, my Dog! 125

MACILENTE

Where is he?

FASTIDIOUS

God’s precious, go seek for the fellow, good signor.

[Fastidious] sends away Fungoso.

PUNTARVOLO

Here, here I left him.

MACILENTE

Why, none was here when we came in now but Cavalier Shift; inquire

of him. 130

FASTIDIOUS

[To Shift] Did you see Sir Puntarvolo’s Dog here, cavalier, since you

came?

SHIFT

His Dog, sir? He may look his Dog, sir; I see none of his Dog, sir.

MACILENTE

[To Puntarvolo] Upon my life, he hath stolen your Dog, sir, and been

hired to it by some that have ventured with you. You may guess by his 135

peremptory answers.

PUNTARVOLO

Not unlike, for he hath been a notorious thief by his own confession.

[To Shift] Sirrah, where’s my Dog?

SHIFT

Charge me with your Dog, sir? I ha’ none of your Dog, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

Villain, thou liest! 140

SHIFT

Lie, sir? ’Sblood, y’are but a man, sir.

PUNTARVOLO

Rogue and thief, restore him!

SOGLIARDO

Take heed, Sir Puntarvolo, what you do. He’ll bear no coals, I can

tell you, of my word.

MACILENTE

[Aside] This is rare. 145

SOGLIARDO

[To Puntarvolo] It’s mar’l he stabs you not. By this light, he hath

stabbed forty for forty times less matter, I can tell you, of my knowledge.

PUNTARVOLO

I will make thee stoop, thou abject.

[Puntarvolo and Shift threaten each other.]

SOGLIARDO

Make him stoop, sir? Gentlemen, pacify him or he’ll be killed!

MACILENTE

Is he so tall a man? 150

SOGLIARDO

Tall a man? If you love his life, stand betwixt ’em. Make him stoop!

PUNTARVOLO

[To Shift] My Dog, villain, or I will hang thee! Thou hast confessed

robberies and other felonious acts to this gentleman, thy Countenance –

SOGLIARDO

I’ll bear no witness.

PUNTARVOLO

– And without my Dog I will hang thee for them! 155

Shift kneels.

SOGLIARDO

What? Kneel to thine enemy?

SHIFT

Pardon me, good sir. God is my judge, I never did robbery in all my life.

Enter FUNGOSO.

FUNGOSO

Oh, Sir Puntarvolo, your Dog lies giving up the ghost in the woodyard.

MACILENTE

[Aside] ’Sblood, is he not dead yet?

PUNTARVOLO

Oh, my Dog born to disastrous fortune! Pray you conduct me, sir. 160

Exit Puntarvolo with Fungoso.

sogliardo

[To Shift] How? Did you never do any robbery in your life?

MACILENTE

[Aside] Oh, this is good. [To Sogliardo] So he swore, sir.

SOGLIARDO

Ay, I heard him. And did you swear true, sir?

SHIFT

Ay, as God shall have part of my soul, sir, I ne’er robbed any man, I; never

stood by the highway side, sir, but only said so, because I would get myself a 165

name and be counted a tall man.

SOGLIARDO

Now out, base viliaco! Thou, my Resolution? I, thy Countenance? By

this light, gentlemen, he hath confessed to me the most inexorable company

of robberies, and damned himself that he did ’em; you never heard the like.

Out, scoundrel, out, follow me no more, I command thee! Out of my sight, 170

go, hence, speak not! I will not hear thee! Away, camouccio! [Exit Shift.]

MACILENTE

[Aside] Oh, how I do feed upon this now, and fat myself! Here were a

couple unexpectedly dishumoured. Well, by this time, I hope, Sir Puntarvolo

and his Dog are both out of humour to travel. – Nay, gentlemen, why do you

not seek out the knight and comfort him? Our supper at the Mitre must of 175

necessity hold tonight, if you love your reputations.

FASTIDIOUS

’Fore God, I am so melancholy for his Dog’s disaster, but I’ll go.

SOGLIARDO

Faith, and I may go too, but I know I shall be so melancholy.

MACILENTE

Tush, melancholy? You must forget that now, and remember you

lie at the mercy of a fury: Carlo will rack your sinews asunder and rail you to 180

dust, if you come not. Exeunt.

GREX

MITIS

Oh, then their fear of Carlo, belike, makes them hold their meeting.

CORDATUS

Ay, here he comes. Conceive him but to be entered the Mitre, and ’tis

enough.

5.3 Enter CARLO. [A table and chairs are brought on.]

CARLO

Holla! Where be these shot-sharks?

Enter DRAWER.

DRAWER

By and by. –You’re welcome, good Master Buffone.

CARLO

Where’s George? Call me George hither quickly.

DRAWER

What wine please you have, sir? I’ll draw you that’s neat, Master

Buffone. 5

CARLO

Away, neophyte, do as I bid. Bring my dear George to me.

Enter GEORGE.

Mass, here he comes.

GEORGE

Welcome, Master Carlo.

CARLO

What, ’s supper ready, George?

GEORGE

Ay, sir, almost. Will you have the cloth laid, Master Carlo? 10

CARLO

Oh, what else? Are none of the gallants come yet?

GEORGE

None yet, sir. [He begins to go.]

CARLO

Stay, take me with you, George. Let me have a good fat loin of pork laid

to the fire presently.

GEORGE

It shall, sir. 15

CARLO

And withal, hear you, draw me the biggest shaft you have out of the butt

you wot of. Away, you know my meaning, George, quick.

GEORGE

Done, sir. Exit.

CARLO

’Sblood, I never hungered so much for thing in my life as I do to know our

gallants’ success at the court. Now is that lean bald-rib Macilente, that salt 20

villain, plotting some mischievous device, and lies a-soaking in their frothy

humours like a dry crust, till he has drunk ’em all up. Could the kex but hold

up’s eyes at other men’s happiness in any reasonable proportion, ’slid, the

slave were to be loved next heaven, above honour, wealth, rich fare, apparel,

wenches, all the delights of the belly and the groin, whatever. 25

Enter GEORGE [bringing wine in a jug and two cups].

GEORGE

Here, Master Carlo.

CARLO

Is’t right, boy?

GEORGE

Ay sir, I assure you ’tis right.

CARLO

Well said, my dear George, depart. [Exit George.]

Come, my small gimlet, you in the false scabbard, away! 30

[Carlo] puts forth the Drawer and shuts the door.

So. Now to you, Sir Burgomaster, let’s taste of your bounty.

GREX

MITIS

What, will he deal upon such quantities of wine alone?

CORDATUS

You shall perceive that, sir.

He [Carlo] drinks.

CARLO

Ay, marry sir, here’s purity. Oh, George, I could bite off thy nose for this

now! Sweet rogue, he has drawn nectar, the very soul of the grape. I’ll wash 35

my temples with some on’t presently, and drink some half-a-score draughts.

’Twill heat the brain, kindle my imagination; I shall talk nothing but crackers

and firework tonight. So, sir, please you to be here, sir, and I here. So.

He sets the two cups asunder, and first drinks with the one and pledges with the other.

GREX

CORDATUS

This is worth the observation, signor.

CARLO

with the first cup Now, sir, here’s to you, and I present you with so much 40

of my love. [He drinks.]

CARLO

with the second cup I take it kindly from you, sir, (Drinks) and will return

you the like proportion, but withal, sir, remembering the merry night we

had at the countess’s – you know where, sir.

CARLO FIRST CUP

By Jesu, you do put me in mind now of a very necessary 45

office which I will propose in your pledge, sir: the health of that honourable

countess, and the sweet lady that sat by her, sir.

CARLO SECOND CUP

I do vail to it with reverence. (Drinks.) And now, signor,

with these ladies, I’ll be bold to mix the health of your divine mistress.

CARLO FIRST CUP

Do you know her, sir? 50

CARLO SECOND CUP

Oh, lord, sir, ay, and in the respectful memory and mention

of her, I could wish this wine were the most precious drug in the world.

CARLO FIRST CUP

Good faith, sir, you do honour me in’t exceedingly. (Drinks.)

GREX

MITIS

Whom should he personate in this, signor?

CORDATUS

Faith, I know not, sir; observe, observe him. 55

CARLO SECOND CUP

If it were the basest filth or mud that runs in the channel,

I am bound to pledge it, by God, sir (Drinks.) And now, sir, here is again a

replenished bowl, sir, which I will reciprocally return upon you to the health

of the Count Frugale.

CARLO FIRST CUP

The Count Frugale’s health, sir? I’ll pledge it on my knees, by 60

Jesu. [He kneels and drinks.]

CARLO SECOND CUP

Will you, sir? I’ll drink it on my knees, then, by the

Lord. ([He kneels and] drinks.)

GREX

MITIS

Why, this is strange.

CORDATUS

Ha’ you heard a better drunken dialogue? 65

CARLO SECOND CUP

Nay, do me right, sir.

CARLO FIRST CUP

So I do, in good faith.

CARLO SECOND CUP

Good faith, you do not; mine was fuller.

CARLO FIRST CUP

Why, by Jesu, it was not.

CARLO SECOND CUP

By Jesu, it was, and you do lie. 70

CARLO FIRST CUP

Lie, sir?

CARLO SECOND CUP

Ay, sir.

CARLO FIRST CUP

’Swounds, you rascal!

CARLO SECOND CUP

Oh, come, stab if you have a mind to it.

CARLO FIRST CUP

Stab? Dost thou think I dare not? 75

CARLO

(In his own person) Nay, I beseech you gentlemen, what means this? Nay,

look, for shame, respect your reputations.

[Carlo] overturns wine, pot, cups, and all.

Enter MACILENTE.

MACILENTE

Why, how now, Carlo, what humour’s this?

CARLO

Oh, my good mischief, art thou come? Where are the rest? Where are the

rest? 80

MACILENTE

Faith, three of our ordnance are burst.

CARLO

Burst? How comes that?

MACILENTE

Faith, overcharged, overcharged.

CARLO

But did not the train hold?

MACILENTE

Oh, yes, and the poor lady is irrecoverably blown up. 85

CARLO

Why, but which of the munition is miscarried, ha?

MACILENTE

Imprimis, Sir Puntarvolo; next, the Countenance, and Resolution.

CARLO

How? How, for the love of God?

MACILENTE

Troth, the Resolution is proved recreant, the Countenance hath

changed his copy, and the passionate knight is shedding funeral tears over 90

his departed Dog.

CARLO

What’s his Dog, dead?

MACILENTE

Poisoned, ’tis thought. Marry, how, or by whom, that’s left for some

cunning woman here o’the Bankside to resolve. For my part, I know nothing,

more than that we are like to have an exceeding melancholy supper of it. 95

CARLO

’Slife, and I had purposed to be extraordinarily merry. I had drunk off a

good preparative of old sack here. But will they come, will they come?

MACILENTE

They will assuredly come. Marry, Carlo, as thou lov’st me, run over

’em all freely tonight, and especially the knight. Spare no sulphurous jest

that may come out of that sweaty forge of thine, but ply ’em with all manner 100

of shot: minion, saker, culverine, or anything what thou wilt.

CARLO

I warrant thee, my dear case of petronels, so I stand not in dread of thee,

but that thou’lt second me.

MACILENTE

Why, my good German tapster, I will.

CARLO

[Calling] What, George! [He sings] ‘Lomtero, lomtero!, etc.’ ([and] danceth). 105

[Enter GEORGE.]

GEORGE

Did you call, Master Carlo?

CARLO

More nectar, George. [He sings.] ‘Lomtero! etc.’

GEORGE

Your meat’s ready, sir, an your company were come.

CARLO

Is the loin o’pork enough?

GEORGE

Ay, sir, it is enough. 110[Exit.]

MACILENTE

Pork? ’Sheart, what dost thou with such a greasy dish? I think

thou dost varnish thy face with the fat on’t, it looks so like a glue-pot.

CARLO

True, my raw-boned rogue, and if thou wouldst farce thy lean ribs with it

too, they would not, like ragged laths, rub out so many doublets as they do.

But thou know’st not a good dish, thou. Oh, it’s the only nourishing meat in 115

the world. No marvel, though, that saucy stubborn generation the Jews were

forbidden it; for what would they ha’ done, well pampered with fat pork,

that durst murmur at their Maker out of garlic and onions? ’Sblood, fed with

it, the whoreson strummel-patched, goggle-eyed grumbledories would ha’

gigantomachized. 120

[Enter GEORGE with wine and cups.]

Well said, my sweet George! Fill, fill. [George serves the wine, and exit.]

GREX

MITIS

This savours too much of profanation.

CORDATUS

O, servetur ad imum, qualis ab incepto processerit, et sibi constet. The necessity

of his vein compels a toleration; for, bar this, and dash him out of humour

before his time. 125

CARLO

’Tis an axiom in natural philosophy: what comes nearest the nature of

that it feeds, converts quicker to nourishment, and doth sooner essentiate.

Now, nothing in flesh and entrails assimulates or resembles man more than

a hog or swine. (Drinks.)

MACILENTE

True, and he, to requite their courtesy, oftentimes doffeth off his 130

own nature and puts on theirs, as when he becomes as churlish as a hog, or

as drunk as a sow. But to your conclusion. (Drinks.)

CARLO

Marry, I say, nothing resembling man more than a swine, it follows,

nothing can be more nourishing; for indeed, but that it abhors from our nice

nature, if we fed one upon another, we should shoot up a great deal faster, 135

and thrive much better. I refer me to your Long Lane cannibals, or such like.

But since ’tis so contrary, pork, pork, is your only feed.

MACILENTE

I take it your devil be of the same diet; he would ne’er ha’ desired to

been incorporated into swine else.

Enter PUNTARVOLO, FASTIDIOUS, SOGLIARDO, [and] FUNGOSO.

Oh, here comes the melancholy mess. Upon ’em, Carlo, charge, charge! 140

CARLO

’Fore God, Sir Puntarvolo, I am sorry for your heaviness. Body o’me,

a shrewd mischance. Why, had you no unicorn’s horn, nor bezoar’s stone

about you? Ha?

PUNTARVOLO

Sir, I would request you be silent.

MACILENTE

[Aside to Carlo] Nay, to him again. 145

CARLO

[To Puntarvolo] Take comfort, good knight, if your cat ha’ recovered her

cataract, fear nothing; your Dog’s mischance may be holpen.

FASTIDIOUS

Say how, sweet Carlo, for so God mend me, the poor knight’s moans

draw me into fellowship of his misfortunes. But be not discouraged, good

Sir Puntarvolo. I am content your adventure shall be performed upon your 150

cat.

MACILENTE

[Aside] I believe you, musk-cod, I believe you; for rather than thou

wouldst make present repayment, thou wouldst take it upon his own bare

return from Calais.

CARLO

[Overhearing, aside to Macilente] Nay, God’s life, he’d be content, so he were 155

well rid out of his company, to pay him five for one at his next meeting him

in Paul’s. [To Puntarvolo] But for your Dog, Sir Puntar, if he be not outright

dead, there is a friend of mine, a quacksalver, shall put life in him again,

that’s certain.

FUNGOSO

Oh no, that comes too late. 160

MACILENTE

[To Puntarvolo, indicating Carlo] God’s precious, knight, will you suffer

this?

PUNTARVOLO

[Calling] Drawer, get me a candle and hard wax, presently.

SOGLIARDO

[Calling] Ay, and bring up supper, for I am so melancholy.

CARLO

[To Sogliardo] Ah, signor, where’s your Resolution? 165

SOGLIARDO

Resolution! Hang him, rascal! Oh Carlo, if you love me, do not

mention him.

CARLO

Why, how so? How so?

SOGLIARDO

Oh, the arrant’st crocodile that ever Christian was acquainted with.

By Jesu, I shall think the worse of tobacco while I live, for his sake. I did think 170

him to be as tall a man –

MACILENTE

[Aside to Carlo] Nay, Buffone, the knight, the knight.

CARLO

[To the others, baiting Puntarvolo] ’Sblood, he looks like an image carved out

of box, full of knots. His face is, for all the world, like a Dutch purse, with

the mouth downward; his beard’s the tassels, and he walks – let me see – 175

as melancholy as one o’the Master’s side in the Counter. – Do you hear, Sir

Puntar?

PUNTARVOLO

Sir, I do entreat you no more, but enjoin you to silence, as you

affect your peace.

CARLO

Nay, but dear knight, understand (here are none but friends, and such as 180

wish you well) I would ha’ you do this now: flay me your Dog presently (but

in any case, keep the head), and stuff his skin well with straw, as you see these

dead monsters at Bartholomew Fair –

PUNTARVOLO

I shall be sudden, I tell you.

CARLO

– Or, if you like not that, sir, get me somewhat a less Dog and clap into 185

the skin. Here’s a slave about the town here, a Jew, one Johan, or a fellow that

makes periwigs, will glue it on artificially, it shall ne’er be discerned; besides,

’twill be so much the warmer for the hound to travel in, you know –

MACILENTE

Sir Puntarvolo, ’sdeath, can you be so patient?

CARLO

– Or thus, sir: you may have, as you come through Germany, a familiar 190

for little or nothing shall turn itself into the shape of your Dog, or anything –

what you will – for certain hours –

[Puntarvolo draws his sword and threatens him.]

God’s my life, knight, what do you mean? You’ll offer no violence, will you?

Hold, hold!

PUNTARVOLO

’Sblood, you slave, you bandog you! 195

[Enter DRAWER with a candle and sealing wax.]

CARLO

As you love God, stay the enraged knight, gentlemen!

PUNTARVOLO

By my knighthood, he that stirs in his rescue, dies. – Drawer, be

gone. [Exit Drawer.]

CARLO

Murder, murder, murder!

PUNTARVOLO

Ay, are you howling, you wolf?–Gentlemen, as you tender your 200

lives, suffer no man to enter till my revenge be perfect. Sirrah Buffone, lie

down. Make no exclamations, but down.

[Carlo shifts; Puntarvolo threatens him further.]

Down, you cur, or I will make thy blood flow on my rapier hilts!

CARLO

Sweet knight, hold in thy fury, and, ’fore God, I’ll honour thee more than

the Turk does Mahomet. 205

PUNTARVOLO

Down, I say!

[Carlo submits. Knocking within.]

Who’s there?

CONSTABLE

(Within) Here’s the constable! Open the doors!

CARLO

Good Macilente –

PUNTARVOLO

Open no door! If the Adelantado of Spain were here, he should 210

not enter. On. Help me with the light, gentlemen.

[He melts the wax. Knocking within.]

You knock in vain, sir officer.

CARLO

[To Macilente] Et tu, Brute.

PUNTARVOLO

Sirrah, close your lips, or I will drop it in thine eyes, by heaven.

CARLO

Oh! Oh! 215

They seal up his lips.

CONSTABLE

[Within] Open the door, or I will break it open!

MACILENTE

[Calling] Nay, good constable, have patience a little, you shall come

in presently; we have almost done.

PUNTARVOLO

[To Carlo] So, now, are you out of your humour, sir? Shift, gentlemen. 220

They [Puntarvolo, Macilente, Sogliardo, and Fastidious Brisk] all draw [their weapons] and [leaving Carlo,] exeunt [except Fungoso, who hides under the table].

Enter CONSTABLE with OFFICERS, and stay [FASTIDIOUS] BRISK.

CONSTABLE

Lay hold upon this gallant, and pursue the rest.

FASTIDIOUS

Lay hold on me, sir? For what?

CONSTABLE

Marry, for your riot here, sir, with the rest of your companions.

FASTIDIOUS

My riot! God’s my judge, take heed what you do. Carlo, did I offer

any violence? 225

CONSTABLE

Oh, sir, you see he is not in case to answer you, and that makes you

so peremptory.

FASTIDIOUS

Peremptory? ’Slife! I appeal to the drawers if I did him any hard

measure.

Enter GEORGE [and DRAWER].

GEORGE

They are all gone. There’s none of them will be laid any hold on. 230

CONSTABLE

[To Fastidious] Well, sir, you are like to answer till the rest can be

found out.

FASTIDIOUS

’Sblood, I appeal to George here.

CONSTABLE

Tut, George was not here. [To the Officers] Away with him to the

Counter, sirs. [To Carlo] Come, sir, you were best get yourself dressed 235

somewhere.

Exeunt [Officers, Fastidious Brisk, Constable, and Carlo]. Manent two Drawers.

GEORGE

Good Lord, that Master Carlo could not take heed, and knowing what

a gentleman the knight is if he be angry!

DRAWER

A pox on ’em, they have left all the meat on our hands! Would they

were choked with it for me! 240

Enter MACILENTE.

MACILENTE

What, are they gone, sirs?

GEORGE

Oh, here’s Master Macilente.

MACILENTE

[Noticing the table] Sirrah George, do you see that concealment there?

That napkin under the table?

GEORGE

[Recognizing who it is] God’s so, Signor Fungoso! 245

MACILENTE

He’s a good pawn for the reckoning; be sure you keep him here, and

let him not go away till I come again, though he offer to discharge all. I’ll

return presently. [Exit.]

GEORGE

[To the other Drawer] Sirrah, we have a pawn for the reckoning.

DRAWER

What? Of Macilente? 250

GEORGE

No, look under the table.

FUNGOSO

[Aside] I hope all be quiet now. If I can get but forth of this street, I care

not.

[He] looks out [from] under the table.

Masters, I pray you tell me, is the constable gone?

GEORGE

What? Master Fungoso? 255

FUNGOSO

Was’t not a good device, the same of me, sirs?

GEORGE

Yes, faith. Ha’ you been here all this while?

FUNGOSO

Oh, God, ay. Good sirs, look an the coast be clear. I’d fain be going.

GEORGE

All’s clear, sir, but the reckoning, and that you must clear and pay before

you go, I assure you. 260

FUNGOSO

I pay? ’Slight, I ate not a bit since I came into the house yet.

DRAWER

Why, you may when you please, sir. ’Tis all ready below that was

bespoken.

FUNGOSO

Bespoken? Not by me, I hope?

GEORGE

By you, sir? I know not that, but ’twas for you and your company, I am 265

sure.

FUNGOSO

My company? ’Slid, I was an invited guest, so I was.

DRAWER

Faith, we have nothing to do with that, sir. They’re all gone but you,

and we must be answered, that’s the short and the long on’t.

FUNGOSO

Nay, if you will grow to extremities, my masters, then would this pot, 270

cup, and all were in my belly, if I have a cross about me.

GEORGE

What, and have such apparel? Do not say so, signor, that mightily

discredits your clothes.

FUNGOSO

By Jesu, the tailor had all my money this morning, and yet I must be

fain to alter my suit too. Good sirs, let me go; ’tis Friday night, and, in good 275

truth, I have no stomach in the world to eat anything.

DRAWER

That’s no matter, so you pay, sir.

FUNGOSO

Pay? God’s light, with what conscience can you ask me to pay that I

never drank for?

GEORGE

Yes sir, I did see you drink once. 280

FUNGOSO

By this cup, which is silver, but you did not. You do me infinite wrong.

I looked in the pot once indeed, but I did not drink.

DRAWER

Well, sir, if you can satisfy my master, it shall be all one to us.

One calls George within.

[Replying] By and by! Exeunt.

GREX

CORDATUS

Lose not yourself now, signor. 285

5.4 Enter MACILENTE and DELIRO.

MACILENTE

Tut, sir, you did bear too hard a conceit of me in that, but I will

now make my love to you most transparent, in spite of any dust of suspicion

that may be raised to dim it; and henceforth, since I see it is so against your

humour, I will never labour to persuade you.

DELIRO

Why, I thank you, signor. But what’s that you tell me may concern my 5

peace so much?

MACILENTE

Faith, sir, ’tis thus. Your wife’s brother, Signor Fungoso, being at

supper tonight at a tavern with a sort of gallants, there happened some

division amongst ’em, and he is left in pawn for the reckoning. Now, if ever

you look that time shall present you with a happy occasion to do your wife 10

some gracious and acceptable service, take hold of this opportunity, and

presently go and redeem him; for being her brother, and his credit so amply

engaged as now it is, when she shall hear – as he cannot himself, but he must

out of extremity report it – that you came and offered yourself so kindly, and

with that respect of his reputation, ’slud, the benefit cannot but make her 15

dote, and grow mad of your affections.

DELIRO

Now, by heaven, Macilente, I acknowledge myself exceedingly indebted

to you by this kind tender of your love, and I am sorry to remember that I

was ever so rude to neglect a friend of your worth. [Calling offstage] Bring me

shoes and a cloak there! [To Macilente] I was going to bed if you had not come. 20

What tavern is it?

MACILENTE

The Mitre, sir.

DELIRO

Oh. [Calling] Why, Fido, my shoes! – Good faith, it cannot but please her

exceedingly.

Enter FALLACE [and FIDO with shoes and cloak].

FALLACE

Come, I mar’l what piece of nightwork you have in hand now, that you 25

call for your cloak and your shoes. [Indicating Macilente] What, is this your

pander?

DELIRO

Oh, sweet wife, speak lower. I would not he should hear thee for a

world –

FALLACE

Hang him, rascal! I cannot abide him for his treachery, with his wild 30

quickset beard there. Whither go you now with him?

DELIRO

No ‘whither with him’, dear wife; I go alone to a place from whence I will

return instantly. [Aside to Macilente] Good Macilente, acquaint not her with it

by any means; it may come so much the more accepted. Frame some other

answer. [To Fallace] I’ll come back immediately. 35

Exit Deliro [and Fido].

fallace

[Calling after Deliro] Nay, an I be not worthy to know whither you go,

stay till I take knowledge of your coming back.

MACILENTE

Hear you, Mistress Deliro.

FALLACE

So, sir, and what say you?

MACILENTE

Faith, lady, my intents will not deserve this slight respect, when 40

you shall know ’em.

FALLACE

Your intents? Why, what may your intents be, for God’s sake?

MACILENTE

Troth, the time allows no circumstance, lady. Therefore know this

was but a device to remove your husband hence and bestow him securely,

whilst, with more conveniency, I might report to you a misfortune that hath 45

happened to Monsieur Brisk. [Fallace looks worried.] Nay, comfort, sweet lady.

This night, being at supper, a sort of young gallants committed a riot, for

the which he only is apprehended and carried to the Counter, where, if your

husband and other creditors should but have knowledge of him, the poor

gentleman were undone for ever. 50

FALLACE

Ay me, that he were!

MACILENTE

Now, therefore, if you can think upon any present means for his

delivery, do not forslow it. A bribe to the officer that committed him will do

it.

FALLACE

Oh, God, sir, he shall not want for a bribe. Pray you, will you commend 55

me to him, and say I’ll visit him presently?

MACILENTE

No, lady, I shall do you better service in protracting your husband’s

return, that you may go with more safety.

FALLACE

Good truth, so you may. Farewell, good sir. Exit [Macilente].

Lord, how a woman may be mistaken in a man! I would have sworn upon all 60

the testaments in the world he had not loved Master Brisk. [Calling] Bring me

my keys there, maid! – Alas, good gentleman, if all I have i’this earthly world

will pleasure him, it shall be at his service. Exit.

GREX

MITIS

How Macilente sweats i’this business, if you mark him!

CORDATUS

Ay, you shall see the true picture of spite anon. Here comes the pawn 65

and his redeemer.

5.5 Enter DELIRO [and] FUNGOSO, [with GEORGE the] drawer following them.

DELIRO

Come, brother, be not discouraged for this, man. What?

FUNGOSO

No, truly, I am not discouraged. But I protest to you, brother, I have

done imitating any more gallants either in purse or apparel, but as shall

become a gentleman for good carriage or so.

DELIRO

You say well. [To George] This is all i’the bill here, is’t not? 5

GEORGE

Ay, sir.

DELIRO

There’s your money; tell it. [To Fungoso] And brother, I am glad I met with

so good occasion to show my love to you.

FUNGOSO

I will study to deserve it, in good truth, an I live.

DELIRO

[To George] What, is’t right? 10

GEORGE

Ay, sir, and I thank you.

FUNGOSO

Let me have a capon’s leg saved, now the reckoning is paid.

GEORGE

You shall, sir. Exit.

Enter MACILENTE.

MACILENTE

Where’s Signor Deliro?

DELIRO

Here, Macilente. 15

MACILENTE

[Aside to Deliro] Hark you, sir, ha’ you dispatched this same?

DELIRO

Ay, marry, have I.

MACILENTE

Well, then, I can tell you news: Brisk is i’the Counter.

DELIRO

I’the Counter?

MACILENTE

’Tis true, sir, committed for the stir here tonight. Now would I have 20

you send your brother home afore, with the report of this your kindness done

him to his sister, which will so pleasingly possess her, and out of his mouth

too, that i’the meantime you may clap your action on Brisk, and your wife –

being in so happy a mood – cannot entertain it ill by any means.

DELIRO

’Tis very true, she cannot indeed, I think. 25

MACILENTE

Think? Why, it’s past thought. You shall never meet the like opportunity,

I assure you.

DELIRO

I will do it. [To Fungoso] Brother, pray you go home afore – this gentleman

and I have some private business – and tell my sweet wife I’ll come presently.

FUNGOSO

I will, brother. 30

macilente

[To Fungoso] And signor, acquaint your sister how liberally and out

of his bounty your brother has used you – do you see? – made you a man

of good reckoning, redeemed that you never were possessed of, credit, gave

you as gentlemanlike terms as might be, found no fault with your coming

behind the fashion, nor nothing. 35

FUNGOSO

Nay, I am out of those humours now.

MACILENTE

Well, if you be out, keep your distance, and be not made a shot-clog

no more. [To Deliro] Come, Signor, let’s make haste. Exeunt.

5.6 Enter [FASTIDIOUS] BRISK and FALLACE.

FALLACE

Oh, Master Fastidious, what pity is’t to see so sweet a man as you are,

in so sour a place!

And kisses him.

GREX

CORDATUS

As upon her lips, does she mean?

MITIS

Oh, this is to be imagined the Counter, belike?

FASTIDIOUS

Troth, fair lady, ’tis first the pleasure of the fates, and next of the 5

constable, to have it so; but I am patient and indeed comforted the more in

your kind visitation.

FALLACE

Nay, you shall be comforted in me more than this, if you please, sir.

I sent you word by my brother, sir, that my husband laid to ’rest you this

morning; I know not whether you received it or no. 10

FASTIDIOUS

No, believe it, sweet creature, your brother gave me no such

intelligence.

FALLACE

Oh, the Lord!

FASTIDIOUS

But has your husband any such purpose?

FALLACE

Oh, God, Master Brisk, yes, and therefore be presently discharged; for 15

if he come with his actions upon you – Lord deliver you! – you are in for

one half-a-score year. He kept a poor man in Ludgate, once, twelve year for

sixteen shillings. Where’s your keeper? For God’s love, call him, let him take

a bribe and dispatch you. Lord, how my heart trembles! Here are no spies, are

there? 20

FASTIDIOUS

No, sweet mistress. Why are you in this passion?

FALLACE

Oh, Christ, Master Fastidious, if you knew how I took up my husband

today when he said he would arrest you, and how I railed at him that persuaded

him to’t, the scholar there (who, on my conscience, loves you now),

and what care I took to send you intelligence by my brother, and how I gave 25

him four sovereigns for his pains, and now, how I came running out hither

without man or boy with me, so soon as I heard on’t, you’d say I were in

a passion indeed – your keeper, for God’s sake! Oh, Master Brisk, as ’tis in

Euphues, ‘Hard is the choice, when one is compelled either by silence to die

with grief, or by speaking to live with shame.’ 30

FASTIDIOUS

Fair lady, I conceive you, and may this kiss assure you that, where

adversity hath, as it were, contracted, prosperity shall not –

Enter DELIRO [and] MACILENTE.

God’s light, your husband!

FALLACE

Oh, me!

DELIRO

Ay! is’t thus? 35

MACILENTE

Why, how now, Signor Deliro? Has the wolf seen you? Ha? Hath

Gorgon’s head made marble on you?

DELIRO

Some planet strike me dead!

MACILENTE

Why, look you, sir, I told you you might have suspected this long

afore, had you pleased, and ha’ saved this labour of admiration now, and 40

passion, and such extremities as this frail lump of flesh is subject unto. Nay,

why do you not dote now, signor? Methinks you should say it were some

enchantment, deceptio visus, or so, ha? If you could persuade yourself it were

a dream now, ’twere excellent. Faith, try what you can do, signor. It may be

your imagination will be brought to it in time; there’s nothing impossible. 45

FALLACE

Sweet husband?

DELIRO

Out, lascivious strumpet! Exit Deliro.

MACILENTE

What? Did you see how ill that stale vein became him afore, of ‘sweet

wife’ and ‘dear heart’? And are you fallen just into the same now, with ‘sweet

husband’? Away, follow him! Go, keep state! What? Remember you are a 50

woman: turn impudent. Gi’ him not the head, though you gi’ him the horns.

Away! Exit Fallace.

And yet methinks you should take your leave of enfants-perdus here, your

forlorn hope. How now, Monsieur Brisk? What? Friday at night? And in

affliction too? And yet your pulpamenta? Your delicate morsels? I perceive 55

the affection of ladies and gentlewomen pursues you wheresoever you go,

monsieur.

FASTIDIOUS

Now, in good faith, and as I am gentle, there could not have come

a thing i’this world to have distracted me more than the wrinkled fortunes

of this poor dame. 60

MACILENTE

Oh, yes, sir, I can tell you a thing will distract you much better,

believe it. Signor Deliro has entered three actions against you, three actions,

monsieur. Marry, one of them – I’ll put you in comfort – is but three thousand

mark, and the other two some five thousand pound together. Trifles, trifles.

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, God, I am undone! 65

MACILENTE

Nay, not altogether so, sir. The knight must have his hundred pound

repaid; that’ll help too. And then sixscore pound for a diamond, you know

where. These be things will weigh, monsieur; they will weigh.

FASTIDIOUS

Oh, Jesu!

MACILENTE

What, do you sigh? This it is to kiss the hand of a countess, to have 70

her coach sent for you, to hang poniards in ladies’ garters, to wear bracelets

of their hair, and for every one of these great favours to give some slight jewel

of five hundred crowns or so. Why ’tis nothing! Now, monsieur, you see the

plague that treads o’the heels of your foppery. Well, go your ways in. Remove

yourself to the twopenny ward quickly to save charges, and there set up your 75

rest to spend Sir Puntar’s hundred pound for him. Away, good Pomander,

go!

Exit [Fastidious] Brisk.

[Enter a player impersonating QUEEN ELIZABETH.] Suddenly, against
expectation and all steel of his [Macilente’s] malice, the very wonder of
her presence strikes him to the earth dumb, and astonished.
From whence rising and recovering heart, his passion thus utters itself:

MACILENTE

Blessèd, divine, unblemished, sacred, pure,

Glorious, immortal, and indeed immense –

Oh, that I had a world of attributes 80

To lend or add to this high majesty!

Never till now did object greet mine eyes

With any light content, but in her graces

All my malicious powers have lost their stings.

Envy is fled my soul at sight of her, 85

And she hath chased all black thoughts from my bosom,

Like as the sun doth darkness from the world.

My stream of humour is run out of me;

And as our city’s torrent, bent t’infect

The hallowed bowels of the silver Thames, 90

Is checked by strength and clearness of the river

Till it hath spent itself e’en at the shore,

So in the ample and unmeasured flood

Of her perfections are my passions drowned,

And I have now a spirit as sweet and clear 95

As the most rarefied and subtle air;

With which, and with a heart as pure as fire,

Yet humble as the earth, do I implore,

He kneels.

O heaven, that she, whose figure hath effected

This change in me may never suffer change 100

In her admired and happy government!

May still this island be called Fortunate,

And rugged Treason tremble at the sound

When Fame shall speak it with an emphasis!

Let foreign Policy be dull as lead, 105

And pale Invasion come with half a heart

When he but looks upon her blessèd soil;

The throat of War be stopped within her land,

And turtle-footed Peace dance fairy rings

About her court, where never may there come 110

Suspect or danger, but all trust and safety.

Let Flattery be dumb, and Envy blind

In her dread presence; Death himself admire her,

And may her virtues make him to forget

The use of his inevitable hand. 115

Fly from her, Age. Sleep, Time, before her throne!

Our strongest wall falls down when she is gone.

[Exit Queen Elizabeth.]

Here the trumpets sound a flourish, in which time Macilente converts himself to them that supply the place of Grex, and speaks:

GREX

MACILENTE

How now, sirs? How like you it? Has’t not been tedious?

CORDATUS

Nay, we ha’ done censuring now.

MITIS

Yes, faith. 120

MACILENTE

How so?

CORDATUS

Marry, because we’ll imitate your actors, and be out of our humours.

Besides, here are those [Indicating the audience] round about you, of more

ability in censure than we, whose judgements can give it a more satisfying

allowance; we’ll refer you to them. 125

MACILENTE

Ay? Is’t e’en so? [To the spectators] Well, gentlemen, I should have gone

in and returned to you as I was, Asper, at the first. But by reason the shift

would have been somewhat long, and we are loath to draw your patience any

farther, we’ll entreat you to imagine it. And now, that you may see I will be

out of humour for company, I stand wholly to your kind approbation, and, 130

indeed, am nothing so peremptory as I was in the beginning. Marry, I will

not do as Plautus in his Amphitryo, for all this: Summi Iovis causa, plaudite (beg

a plaudit for God’s sake). But if you, out of the bounty of your good liking,

will bestow it, why, you may in time make lean Macilente as fat as Sir John

Falstaff. 135Exeunt.

Non ego ventosae plebis suffragia venor.

Appendix A Jonson’s Defence of the Original 1599 Ending

Jonson’s defence appears in an appendix which follows his revised ending printed in the main text of Q (see Appendix B). It is not included in F.

It had another catastrophe or conclusion at the first playing, which

(διὰ τὸ τὴν βασίλισσαν προσωποποιεῖσθαι) many seemed not to relish it, and therefore ’twas

since altered. Yet, that a right-eyed and solid reader may perceive it was not so

great a part of the heaven awry as they would make it, we request him but to look

down upon these following reasons: 5

1. There hath been precedent of the like presentation in divers plays, and is

yearly in our city pageants or shows of triumph.

2. It is to be conceived that Macilente, being so strongly possessed with envy

(as the poet here makes him), it must be no slight or common object that

should effect so sudden and strange a cure upon him 10

as the putting him clean out of his humour.

3. If his imagination had discoursed the whole world over for an object,

it could not have met with a more proper, eminent, or worthy figure than

that of Her Majesty’s, which his election (though boldly, yet respectively)

used to a moral and mysterious end. 15

4. His greediness to catch at any occasion that might express his affection to

his sovereign may worthily plead for him.

5. There was nothing, in his examined opinion, that could more near or

truly exemplify the power and strength of her invaluable virtues than

the working of so perfect a miracle on so opposed a spirit, who not only 20

persisted in his humour, but was now come to the court with a purposed

resolution (his soul, as it were, new dressed in envy) to malign at anything

that should front him. When suddenly, against expectation and all steel of

his malice, the very wonder of her presence strikes him to the earth, dumb

and astonished. From whence rising, and recovering heart, his passion 25

thus utters itself.

Q’s appendix continues with Macilente’s speech and his prose epilogue with Cordatus and Mitis, as at 5.6.78ff. of this edition.

Appendix B

Jonson’s revised version of his original 1599 ending continues in the main text of Q 1600 after 5.6.77:

MACILENTE

Why, here’s a change! Now is my soul at peace. 82

I am as empty of all envy now

As they of merit to be envied at;

My humour, like a flame, no longer lasts 85

Than it hath stuff to feed it, and their virtue,

Being now raked up in embers of their folly,

Affords no ampler subject to my spirit.

I am so far from malicing their states

That I begin to pity ’em; it grieves me 90

To think they have a being. I could wish

They might turn wise upon it and be saved now,

So heaven were pleased. But let them vanish, vapours.

And now with Asper’s tongue (though not his shape):

Kind patrons of our sports, you that can judge 95

And, with discerning thoughts, measure the pace

Of our strange muse in this her maze of humour,

You, whose true notions do confine the forms

And nature of sweet poesy, to you

I tender solemn and most duteous thanks 100

For your stretched patience and attentive grace.

We know – and we are pleased to know so much –

The cates that you have tasted were not seasoned

For every vulgar palate, but prepared

To banquet pure and apprehensive ears. 105

Let then their voices speak for our desert;

Be their applause the trumpet to proclaim

Defiance to rebelling ignorance

And the green spirits of some tainted few,

That (spite of pity) betray themselves 110

To scorn and laughter, and, like guilty children,

Publish their infancy before their time

By their own fond exception. Such as these,

We pawn ’em to your censure (till time, wit,

Or observation set some stronger seal 115

Of judgement on their judgements), and entreat

The happier spirits in this fair-filled Globe

(So many as have sweet minds in their breasts,

And are too wise to think themselves are taxed

In any general figure, or too virtuous 120

To need that wisdom’s imputation)

That with their bounteous hands they would confirm

This as their pleasure’s patent; which, so signed,

Our lean and spent endeavours shall renew

Their beauties with the spring to smile on you. 125

[Exit.]

FINIS

Appendix C The Folio Endings

Like Q 1600, the 1616 folio text contains two different endings. Each one varies the endings presented separately in Q.

(1) The first ending occurs in the main text. It is a shortened and altered version of Q’s main text (i.e. Jonson’s revised version of his original 1599 ending), continuing after 5.6.81:

MACILENTE

Why, here’s a change! Now is my soul at peace. 82

I am as empty of all envy now

As they of merit to be envied at;

My humour, like a flame, no longer lasts 85

Than it hath stuff to feed it, and their folly,

Being now raked up in their repentant ashes,

Affords no ampler subject to my spleen.

I am so far from malicing their states

That I begin to pity ’em; it grieves me 90

To think they have a being. I could wish

They might turn wise upon it and be saved now,

So heaven were pleased. But let them vanish, vapours.

Gentlemen, how like you it? Has’t not been tedious?

GREX

CORDATUS

Nay, we ha’ done censuring now. 95

MITIS

Yes, faith.

MACILENTE

How so?

CORDATUS

Marry, because we’ll imitate your actors, and be out of our humours.

Besides, here are those [Indicating the audience] round about you, of more

ability in censure than we, whose judgements can give it a more satisfying 100

allowance; we’ll refer you to them.

MACILENTE

Ay? Is’t e’en so? [To the spectators] Well, gentlemen, I should have

gone in and returned to you as I was, Asper, at the first. But by reason the

shift would have been somewhat long, and we are loath to draw your patience

farther, we’ll entreat you to imagine it. And now, that you may see I will be 105

out of humour for company, I stand wholly to your kind approbation, and,

indeed, am nothing so peremptory as I was in the beginning. Marry, I will not

do as Plautus in his Amphitryo, for all this: Summi Iovis causa, plaudite (beg

a plaudit for God’s sake). But if you, out of the bounty of your good liking,

will bestow it, why, you may in time make lean Macilente as fat as Sir John 110

Falstaff.

THE END

(2) The second folio ending appears on a separate page (175) following passage (1) above:

Which, in the presentation before Queen Elizabeth, was thus varied by Macilente:

Never till now did object greet mine eyes 82

With any light content, but in her graces

All my malicious powers have lost their stings.

Envy is fled my soul at sight of her, 85

And she hath chased all black thoughts from my bosom,

Like as the sun doth darkness from the world.

My stream of humour is run out of me;

And as our city’s torrent, bent t’infect

The hallowed bowels of the silver Thames, 90

Is checked by strength and clearness of the river

Till it hath spent itself e’en at the shore,

So in the ample and unmeasured flood

Of her perfections are my passions drowned,

And I have now a spirit as sweet and clear 95

As the most rarefied and subtle air;

With which, and with a heart as pure as fire,

Yet humble as the earth, do I implore,

O heaven, that she, whose presence hath effected

This change in me, may suffer most late change 100

In her admired and happy government.

May still this Island be called Fortunate,

And rugged Treason tremble at the sound

When Fame shall speak it with an emphasis!

Let foreign Polity be dull as lead, 105

And pale Invasion come with half a heart

When he but looks upon her blessèd soil;

The throat of War be stopped within her land,

And turtle-footed Peace dance fairy rings

About her court, where never may there come 110

Suspect or danger, but all trust and safety.

Let Flattery be dumb, and Envy blind

In her dread presence; Death himself admire her,

And may her virtues make him to forget

The use of his inevitable hand. 115

Fly from her, Age. Sleep, Time, before her throne!

Our strongest wall falls down when she is gone.

Appendix D Jonson’s Dedication to the 1616 Folio edition

TO THE NOBLEST NURSERIES OF HUMANITY AND LIBERTY

IN THE KINGDOM,

The Inns of Court.

I understand you, gentlemen, not your houses, and a worthy succession of you,

to all time, as being borne the judges of these studies. When I wrote this poem, 5

I had friendship with divers in your societies, who, as they were great names in

learning, so they were no less examples of living. Of them and then (that I say

no more), it was not despised. Now that the printer, by a doubled charge, thinks

it worthy a longer life than commonly the air of such things doth promise, I am

careful to put it a servant to their pleasures who are the inheritors of the first 10

favour borne it. Yet I command it lie not in the way of your more noble and useful

studies to the public, for so, I shall suffer for it. But when the gown and cap is off

and the lord of liberty reigns, then, to take it in your hands perhaps may make

some bencher, tincted with humanity, read and not repent him.

By your true honourer, 15

Ben Jonson

Appendix E

The Colophon in the 1616 Folio Text

This comical satire was first

acted in the year

1599

by the then Lord Chamberlain

His Servants. 5

The principal comedians were:

RICHARD BURBAGE JOHN HEMINGES

AUGUSTINE PHILLIPS HENRY CONDELL

WILLIAM SLY THOMAS POPE

With the allowance of the Master of Revels. 10

The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Ben Jonson

Every Man Out of His Humour (1599)

Edited by Randall Martin

INTRODUCTION

Every Man Out and its original readers

The 1599 ending

The revised quarto and folio endings

The original ending in performance

Enter the Dog. Whither the play?

[Characters]