SNARL

And all desire to live long, and healthy; But ambition and luxury will not permit it. Who, he? the most besotted on his beauty; He studies nothing but to court himself; No Music but the harmony of his limbs; No work of art but his own symmetry, Allures his sense to admiration. And then he comes forth so bathed in perfumes, Had you no sense to guide you, but your nose, You'd think him a Muske-cat, he smells as rank, As th'extreame unction of two funerals. There was and age When Juno was a maid, and Iov had no beard, When miserable Atlas was not oppressed With such a sort of Dieties, and each Dined by himself: before Ushers and Pages Swarmed so, and Banquets, and your Masques came up Riding in Coaches, visiting, and Titles, So many Plays, and Puritan preachings, That women might be chaste; now it's impossible: Now should I find such a prodigious faith, I'de honour't with a sacrifice. Then I pronounce The destruction of Bedlam, and all mad folks Shall be thy patients. That's a cure Worse then any disease. I can as soon Believe a fire may be extinct with oil, Or a Fever cold with drinking of Sack. One that feeds all men's humours that feed him, Can apprehend their jests, before they speak them, And with a forced laughter play the Midwife. To bring them forth, and carries still in store A Plaudite, when they break wind, or urine. He fits his Master right, although he never Took measure of him, and though he has not been Far from home, yet will lie Like a Traveller. Hee'll rather vex you with officiousness Then you shall pass unsaluted: his business Is only to be busy, and his tongue's still walking, Though himself be one of the worst movables: A confused lump leavened with knavery. Stand by a little, and let's hear his discourse. To what purpose, I wonder, should Nature create this fellow? He is good for nothing else, but to maintain The mutiny of the Paunch, against the members. Keep him from his Whore, and his Sack, and you Detain him from his centre. How the rank Rascal Is overgrown with flesh and villainy? Very likely. HOw now Ardelio, what? so melancholy? Why what's the matter? 'Tis much, The strange activity that some men have To dispatch business. Yes, and what then? They are Like to be well edified. But how if you should chance to meet Diana? Take heed of her, it is a testy Girl, A professed Virgin. Phil. It's my ambition To meet with her, to both my limbs with her, In the same Well, shoot in her bow, dance with her, And get the foremost of her troop with child, And turn the rape on Jupiter. Fine i'faith. Yet his face Is hatched with impudence, threefold thick. But with no danger Of life and hope. And I Will stay at home, and write their annals for them. Mine in my pocket. Ther's one sure has been hurt with a Gronieado. Your wits, and credit were both lost before. Come, there's no remedy. I hold it fit, your Worship should examine What they did there so late, I think no less. I know not What you mean, but I mean as your Worship means. I did perceive they had been quarrelling. An't please you sir, here's one has brought a Letter. He says, from one Mistress Millescent, The contents will inform you. My Lord Philautus, if I may presume To congratulate your Honours safe return, I must confess, I do it with my heart, And all your friends long to participate Your happy presence. Master Fidelio, no less to you. I see you happy in your Mistress favour: And thats as much, as I can wish to you. I have been busy, In projecting for them, they must all be married. I have seen the interlude of the Leager: And we have played the Justice, and the Constable: I will not prepossess you with the sport, But I will show you such ascene of laughter. Your servant Ardelio. 'Tis the notorioust mixture of a villain, That ever yet was bred under the dunghill Of servitude. He has more whores at command, Then you have horses. He has stables for them, His private vawting houses. Ever your Lordship's true and faithful servant. But I dare. Have you been partners all this while in mischief, And now fallen out, who shall be the most knave? I mean to search your house For ammunition, no otherwise, Which I suspect you send unto the Leager. We'll have her new cast. Come, bring them away. Al's one To me, but you must satisfy the Law. Well, a word with you, Master Trimalchio, and the rest. You were as good know it at first, as at last. You are not the first, that have been deceived. Nay, should I hear a man that should abuse her In that, I would defend her with my sword. But she and you must call this man your father. Come, you have Been carried hood winkt through this business. Nor is the day yet clear before you. Mark me; I'll open but one leaf in all the book, And you shall see the whole discovery. Come sir, unease. And I the Constable. Your arrow is one of the same quiver too. There is other preposterous dealing too; Fornature cannot find her self amongst them, There's such effeminacy in both sexes, They cannot be distinguished asunder; And for your times and seasons of all ages; Your best Astrologer cannot discern them, Not Spring from Autumn; you shall have a Lady, Whose cheek is Like a scrue, and every rinkle Would look Like a furrow, yet with a garnish Is so filled up and play tread, that it looks As fresh as a new painted tavern only Such men as smell so, I suspect their favour. There want not some, that seek to flatter him; For great men's vices are esteemed as virtues. It is not well to say so, but by this light, I am of his mind too. No Sir: Thats too deep a mystery for me to profess. I spend my own revenues, only I have And itching humour to see fashions. Why they do hold here the same Maxim still; That to dissemble, is the way to live: But promotion hangs all upon one chain, And thats of gold; he that intends to climb, Must get up by the links; and those are tied Together, with the thread of my Lords favour. No more, stand by, here comes the Parasite. That is Narcissus, and this is his Echo. Sir I have borough four men before your Worship, I found last night, at midnight, in the streets, Raising a tumult. Stay here a little, they are gone to Church, And will return in couples. First, Trimalchio, That Giant in conceit, thinks he is ma cht To some great heir, but shall embrace a cloud In stead of Juno. Then her waiting woman, Her Iris, reflects upon Capritio, And for my piece of fragmentary Courtship, My Miscellany Gentleman, it's his lot To be cast upon Quartilla with Agurtes In his old Justiceship. All these march together, Like the seven deadly sins, and behind them, Comes Antolicus, the clarke of the company. Nay, her own natural father, flesh and bone, I hope shee'l not deny it.