TIPTOE

Doctor! Thou readest a lecture. Unto the family here, when is the day? I'll hear thee, and I'll ha'thee a Doctor, Thou shalt be one, thou hast a Doctors look! A ace disputative, of Salamanca. Thou hast good learning in thee, macte Fly. But Fly, why macte? What a Critique? But Fly, how camest thou to be here, committed Unto this Inn? Fly, Upon suspicion o'drinke, Sir, I was taken late one night, here, with the Tapster, And the under-officers, and so deposited. I will redeem thee, Fly, and place thee better, With a fair Lady. A Sovereign Lady. Thou shalt be the Bird To Sovereign Pru, Queen of our sports, her Fly, The Fly in household, and in ordinary; Bird of her care, and she shall wear thee there! A Fly of gold, enameled, and a schoole-Fly. What antiquated F ther's that, that talks? I'll set him up, then. Art thou the Dominus? Host real o'the house? and Cap of Maintenance? But why in Cuerpo? I hate to see and host, and old, in Cuerpo. Light, skipping hose and doublet, The horse boys garb! poor blank, and half blank Cuerpo, They relish not the gravity of and host, Who should be King at Arms, and ceremonies, In his own house! know all, to the goldweights. But I would do it my self, were I my Host, I would not speak unto a Cook of quality, Your Lordship's footman, or my Ladies Trundle, In Cuerpo! If a Dog but stayed below That were a dog of fashion, and well nosed, And could present himself; I would put on The Savoy chain about my neck; the ruff; And cuffs of Flanders; then the Naples hat; With the Room hatband; and the Florentine Agate; The Milan sword; the cloak of Genoa; set With Brabant buttons; all my given pieces: Except my gloves, the natives of Madrid, To entertain him in! and compliment With a tame cony, as with a Prince that sent it. Your Spanish host is never seen in Cuerpo, Without his Paramento's cloak, & sword. And with a long sword, bully bird? thy sense? But does he teach the Spanish way of Done Lewis? what call you him? Fart upon Euclid, he is stale, & antique, Gi'me the moderns. What was he? I marry, those, Had fencing names, what's become o'them? Done Lewis of Madrid, is the sole Master Now, of the world. Euclid a fencer, and in the Elysium! Do you assure me? For what? Host, Peremptory, You may be taken, But where? whence and you this? Did you hear him Bird? Stevinus? This may have credit, and chimes reason, this! If any man endanger Euclid, Bird, Observe, that had the honour to quit Europe This forty year, 'tis he. He put down Scaliger. Excuse him, Lord, he went of the same grounds. I mean, sweet Lord, the Mathematics. Basta! When thou knowest more, thou wilt take less, green honour. He had his circles, semicircles, quadrants— Cyclometria, I read — I could take the heart now. To write unto Done Lewis, into Spain, To make a progress to the Elysian fields, Next summer— This is thy Queen, that shall be, Bird, our Sovereign. What says old velvet-head? Who? he present? what? whom? And Host? A Groom? Divide the thanks with me? share in my glories? Lay up. I say no more. Ostler's? to usurp Upon my Sparta' or Province, as they say? No broom but mine? I dare speak out, as Cuerpo. And carry what I ask- I ask my rights & privileges, And though for form I please to cal't a suit, I have not been accustomed to repulse. I No Court opinions. My Lady is a Spinster, at the Law, And my petition is of right. It is for this poor learned bird. Professor in the Inn, here, of small matters: Hear him problematize. Or syllogize, elenchize. Bird of the Arts he is, and Fly by name! The Sovereign's honour is to cherish learning. In any thing industrious. Ther's nothing more domestic, Tame, or familiar then your Fly in Cuerpo. Come away. Buz, in their faces: Give them all the Buz, Dor in their ears, and eyes, Hum, Dor, and Buz! I will statuminate and under prop thee. If they scorn us, let us scorn them- Wee'll find The thoroughfare below, and Quaere him, Leave these relicts, Buz; they shall see that I, Spite of their jeares, dare drink, and with a Fly. Now you are i'the right! As i'the Tertiam o'the kitchen, your self Being a person, elegant in sauces, There to command, as prime Maestro deal Campo, Chief Master of the palate, for that Tertiam: Or the Cook under you, because you are the Marshal; And the next officer i'the field, to the Host. Then for the cellar, you have young Anon ne, Is a rare fellow, what's his other name? Sir Pierce, I'll ha'him a Cavalier. Sir Pierce Anon, will Pierce us a new hogshead! And then your thoroughfare, l g here, his Alferez: And able officer, giu'me thy beard, round Jug, I take thee by this handle, and do love One of thy inches! I'the chambers, Jordan, here. He is the Done, deal Campo o'the beds. And for the stables, what's his name? Maestro deal Campo, Peck! his name is curt, A monosyllabe, but commands the horse well. Bring up the troops, Or call sweet Fly, it's and exact Militia, And thou and exact professor, Lipsius Fly, Thou shalt be called, and Iouse: lack Ferret, welcome, Old Trenchmaster, and Colonel o'the Pioneers, What canst thou bolt us now? a Coney? or two Out of Thom: Trundles burrow, here, the Coach? This is the master of the carriages! How is thy driving Thom: good, as it? I am taken with the family, here, fine fellows? Viewing the muster roll. The Fly's a rare bird, in his profession! Let's sip a private pint with him, I would have him Quit this light sign of the light heart, my bird: And lighter house. It is not for his tall And growing gravity so Cedar-like, To be the second to and Host in Cuerpo, That knows no elegancies, use his own Dictamen, and his Genius, I would have him Fly high, and strike at all. Here's young Anon, too. White. My brisk Anon. Do so Pierce. Who's that? Who's that? Old Jordan, good! A comely vessel, and a necessary. New-scour'd he is: Here's to thee, Martial Fly. In milk, my young Anon says. Well said, bold professor. Well argued Cavalier, What Burst? Your better man, the Geno'way Proverb say, Men are not made of steel. Though they be Spanish iron Who? lug's? And knows the General this? I'll see the Bat, and Huffl . What? Pox, go get you gone then. Trundle shall stay. Come, I will see the flicker mouse, my Fly. I do not Like your Burst, Bird; He is saucy: Some Shopkeeper he was? I knew it. A broke-winged Shopkeeper? I nose them, straight. He had no Father, I warrant him, that durst own him; Some foundling in a stall, or the Church porch; Brought up it'he Hospital; and so bound Prentice; Then Master of a shop; then 'one o'th Inquest; Then breaks out Bankrupt; or starts Alderman: The original of both is a Church-porch— Good faith, of most! O'your shop Citizens, th'are rud Animals! And let'hem get but ten mile out a town Th'out swagger all the wapentake. A Saxon word, to signify the hundred. To the health o'the Bursts. It is sufficient. To drink to you is sufficient. That you shall give security to pledge me. I rather choose to thirst: and will thirst ever, Then leave that cream of nations, vn-cry'd up. Perish all wine, and gust of wine. I wrek not, but I spilled it. Do not provoke my patient blade. It sleep's, And would not hear thee: Huffle, thou art rude, And dost not know the Spanish composition. Valour. Prudence. Justice, Religion. And of grauida'd He carries such a dose of it in his looks, Actions, and gestures, as it breeds respect, To him, from Savages, and reputation With all the sons of men. Hee'll borrow money on the stroke of his beard! Or turn off his Mustaccio! His mere cuello, Or Ruff about his neck is a Bill of Exchange In any Bank, in Europe! Not a Merchant That fees his gate, but straight will furnish him Upon his pa e! Huffle, you do shuffle: —to them: Stuff, Pinnacia. A well-trimmed Lady! By your sweet favour Lady, The'are here, have been at Seville i'their days, And at Madrid too! In your protection, he is safe, sweet Lady. So shall you be, in mine. Of what? Huffling Hodge, be quiet. Bird o'the Vespers, Vespertilio, Burst; You are a Gentleman, of the first head, But that head may be broke, as all the Body is— Burst, if you tie not up your Huffle, quickly. This steel here rides not, on this thigh, in vain. I will not discompose my self, for Hu e. If man Should follow the dictamen of his passion, He could not escape— There are the horse, come, Fly. What's he? Why Tipto's?