STEPHEN

NO wusse; but I'll practice against next year uncle: I have bought me a hawk, and a hood, and Bells', and all; I lack nothing but a book to keep it by. Nay, look you now, you are angry, uncle: why you know, an'a man have not skill in the hawking, and hunting-languages now a days, I'll not give a rush for him. They are more studied then the Greek , or the Latin. He is for no gallants company without them. And by gads lid I scorn it, I, so I do, to be a consort for every hum drum , hang them scroyles, there's nothing in them, in the world. What do you talk on it? Because I dwell at Hogsden , I shall keep company with none but the archers of Finsbury ? or the citizens, that come a ducking to Islington ponds? A fine jest i'faith! Slid a gentleman must show himself Like a gentleman. Uncle, I pray you be not angry, I know what I have to do, I trow, I am no novice. What would you have me do? Nay, we do' not stand much on our gentility, friend; yet, you are welcome, and I assure you mine uncle, here, is a man of a thousand a year, Middlesex land: he has but one son in all the world, I am his next heir (at the common law) master STEPHEN, as simple as I stand here, if my cossen die (as there's hope he will) I have a pretty living of mine own too, beside, hard-by here. In good time, sir? why! and in a very good time, sir. You do not stout, friend, do you? Not you sir? you were not best, sir; and you should, here be them can perceive it, and that quicky to: go to. And they can give it a gain soundly to, and need be. Sir, and I thought you had, I would talk with you, and that presently. And so I would sir, good my fancy companion! and you were out of mine uncle's ground, I can tell you; though I do not stand upon my gentility neither in't. Whoreson base fellow! a mechanical servingman! By this cudgel, and it were not for shame, I would— Oh, BRAINWORM, didst thou not see a fellow here in a what-sha'-call-him doublet! he brought mine uncle a letter even now. Oh, I have such a mind to beat him—Where is he? canst thou tell? Gone? which way? when went he! how long since? And, I stayed in the fields! horson scander-bag rogue! O that I had but a horse to fetch him back again. But, I have no boots, that's the spite on't. No faith, it's no boot to follow him, now: let him eene go, and hang. pray thee, help to truss me, a little. He dos so vex me— By my faith, and so I will, now thou tellest me on't: How dost thou Like my leg, BRAINWORM? Foh, the stockings be good enough, now summer is coming on, for the dust: I'll have a pair of silk, again'winter, that I go to dwell in the town. I think my leg would show in a silk-hose. In sadness, I think it would: I have a reasonable good leg. Another time will serve, BRAINWORM. Gramercy for this. Slid, I hope, he laughs not at me, and he do — Oh, now I see, who he laughed at. He laughed at somebody in that letter. By this good light, and he had laughed at me — Yes, a little. I thought, you had laughed at me, cossen. Why, then— I am satisfied, it is sufficient. Sir, that's all one, an't were; you shall command me, twice so far as More-gate to do you good, in such a matter. Do you think I would leave you? I protest— By my fackins, but I will, by your leave; I'll protest more to my friend, then I'll speak off, at this time. Nay, not so neither, you shall pardon me: but I speak, to serve my turn. Why, I do think of it; and I will be more proud, and melan choly, and gentlemanlike, then I have been: I'll ensure you. I'll follow you. Nay, and I must, I will. Pray you, show me, good cousin. I Think, this be the house: what, hough? God's-foot, I have lost my purse, I think. I cannot tell, stay. No, I think I was bewitched, I— O, it's here: no, and it had been lost, I had not cared, but for a jet ring mistress MARRY sent me. Fine, i'faith! Though fancy sleep, my love is deep. Meaning that though I did not fancy her, yet she loved me dearly. And then, I sent her another, and my poesy was: The deeper, the sweeter, I'll be judged by S to . PETER. Marry, S to . PETER, to make up the meeter. How will you fell this rapier, friend? True, I am a gentleman, I know that friend: but what though? I pray you say, what would you ask? Nay, and it be mine, it shall have a velvet scabbard, Couss, that's flat: I'de not wear it as it's, and you would give me and angel. I had rather it were a Spaniard ! but tell me, what shall I give you for it? And it had a silver hilt— Why, but I will buy it now, because you say so, and there's and other shilling, fellow. I scorn to be out-bidden. What, shall I walk with a cudgel, Like Higgin-Bottom? and may have a rapier, for money? Tut, I'll buy this i'the field, so I will, I have a mind to't, be cause it's a field rapier. Tell me your lowest price. By this money, but I will, though I give more then it's worth. Friend, I am a fool, that's granted: but I'll have it, for that words sake. Follow me, for your money. My name is M r . STEPHEN, sir, I am this gentleman's own cousin, sir, his father is mine uncle, sir, I am somewhat melancholy, but you shall command me, sir, in what soever is incident to a gentleman. I, truly, sir, I am mightily given to melancholy. Truly sir, and I love such things, out of measure. I thank you sir, I shall be bold, I warrant you; have you a stool there, to be melancholy' upon? Cousin, is it well? am I melancholy enough? So, I had as lief, as and angel, I could swear as well as that gentleman! So, I do.) I mar'le whither it be a Toledo , or no? I have a countryman of his, here. Why do you pish, Captain? Of a souruie rogue soldier (a hundred of lice go with him) he swore it was a Toledo. Well, I will put it up, but by—(I have forgotten the Captains oath, I thought to have sworn by it) and ere I meet him— Horson connie-catching rascal! I could eat the very hilts for anger! A stomach? would I had him here, you should see, and I had a stomach. O, gods lid, by your leave, do you know me, sir? You sold me a rapier, did you not? You said, it was a Toledo , would? But, it is none? Do you confess it? gentlemen, bear witness, he has confessed it. By gods will, and you had not confessed it— Nay, I have done, cousin. Yet, by his leave, he is a rascal, under his savour, do you see? No truly, sir? but I'll learn to take it now, since you come mend it, so. O, he swears admirably! (by PHARAOS foot) (body of Caesar) I shall never do it, sure (upon mine honour, and by Saint GEORGE) no, I have not the right grace. None, I thank you, sir. Oh, this gentleman do's it, rarely too! but nothing Like the other. By this air, as I am a gentleman: by— As I have somewhat to be saved, I protest— I sir! upon my reputation— I protest, as I am a gentleman, but no soldier, indeed— I sir, that's true: Cousin, may I swear, as I am a soldier, by that? Then, as I am a gentleman, and a soldier, it is divine tobacco! BRAINWORM? Where? Is this BRAINWORM? Not I, body of me, by this air, S. GEORGE, and the foot of PHARAO. Not I, sir: upon my reputation, and, by the foot of PHARAO. Cousin, how do you Like this gentleman's verses? Body of Caesar! they are admirable! The best, that ever I herd, as I am a soldier. I am glad, no body was hurt by his ancient humour. Upon my reputation, it was he. Mass, I'll have this cloak. Nay, it's mine now, another might have taken up, aswell as I: I'll wear it, so I will. I, but he shall not have it; I'll say, I bought it. Me, friend? I am no DOWNRIGHT, I. I am master STEPHEN, you do not well, to arrest me, I tell you, truly: I am in no bodies bonds, nor books, I, would you should know it. A plague on you heartily, for making me thus afraid afore my time. Your cloak, sir? I bought it, even now, in open market. Sir, I bought it, and I'll keep it. I, that I will. Arrest me, I scorn it. There, take your cloak, I'll none ou't. Why, is not here your cloak? what would you have? Must I go? Why, sir. I hope you cannot hang me for it. Can he, fellow? Why, then, let him do his worst, I am resolute. NAy, but stay, stay, give me leave: my chair, sirrah. You, master KNO'WELL, say you went thither to meet your son. A gentleman, sir? O, uncle! God's my witness, uncle, I am wronged here monstrously, he charges me with stealing of his cloak, and would I might never stir, if I did not find it in the street, by chance. And, you said, I stole it; nay, now my uncle is here, I'll do well enough, with you. Oh yes, uncle. BRAINWORM ha been with my cossen EDWARD, and I, all this day. Nothing, but eene come to see how you do, uncle. I, I know that sir, I would not ha'come else. How do my coussin EDWARD, uncle? Uncle, afore I go in, can you tell me, and he have ere a book of the sciences of hawking, and hunting? I would feign borrow it. And what shall I do? I'll do my best.