CLOSE

For mine own partly It does not trouble me so much, that you Have broke up house; for hospitality Went out of fashion with crop-doublets And cod-peeces: but I that have worn out So many liveries under the worshipful Old Gentleman your father. I do not Stand upon wages, Sir, I will not leave you. As other mortals do; yet I'll not play The thief, that is a course by which a man May soon ascend the ladder of preferment: But I never loved these climbing trees. I cannot Cheat, though I have herd there is and art, A devilish deal of knowledge in the dice; And if men wonot partly with money, some Will fetch it out o'th' bones: but the best casting Is in a Tavern, when the wine and reckoning Come up together; some do spin a living by't: And there are many secret ways for Servingmen To live, it is not wages does maintain All of our Tribe, Sir; and especially Those that have Mistress's. I pray let me be one of your buttons still then, I am not half worn out; you know what mould I'm made off, I did ever honest service; And though my fellow Vermin can forsake Your falling house, I do not fear the rafters; By this hand, Sir, I'll wait upon you, though Like great men's servants, I do live on nothing But looks, and the air of commendations. Pray give me leave to wet my lips with these My fellows, sorrow has made but a dry proverb, I must toth' Tavern, and condole a quart. I shall, Sir. Enter Playfare. You speak not To me, Sir, I am a servant still indeed; With them the case is altered, they are Master's, For they want services. Do not you know what all this signifies? My master housekeeping. His house, Sir, has a superscription, And is directed to his loving friend Will pay the rend, you'll hardly know me now, I have no fellow. All? Roll up your selves in paper-liveries, and Be drawn at the next Lottery; I won't Forsake my certainty for all your projects, If it should fail I shall find some of you Sneaking in Paul's behind a pillar, with A zealous prayer, some Gentleman would read The bedroll of your commendation, And pity a very serviceable fellow, That would feign wait on him, but wants a cloak: Go, prosper with your project. Exeunt. Now heaven deliver me, what have I seen? This monster once was shown i'th' fair, or such Another furred Baboon for all the world, Dost know him? Why do I ask such a question? He's such a thing the Devil would not own's Acquaintance. Hornet? Nay then, my wonder's over, and the Devil be but such another, they May be sworn brother's; yes, and divide hell Betwixt em. The beast, that Heaven be thanked, has left you, Hornet but I would news for you. I know not what's the trick on't, nor themselves yet; But he has a project to employ they all Let me alone, I'll work her Sir Like wax, To print what form you please upon her, it's A Loving Crone already to me, I Will speak her fair, and in my drink may marry her. A word of thy mouth does it, I am weary Of these indentures, Like a fool, I was In hope he should have married Mistress Frances. The fitter for her husband, and my master. Which if I do, thou shalt have all. Why all that I can beg, borrow, or steal From him; what should he do with so much riches? I'll prompt my mistress, after the first year, To put him to his pension; he should pay For's very diet, and after a month or two, For every time he comes all oft. My most exquisite Varges, How I do love thy documents; but he's here, I'll not be seen with thee, farewell, we'll talk The rest at night over a Sack-posset. Exit Close. This is the thing, Sir, that must carry away The garland, they have given him a cup Or two of Sack, and has the prettiest humour, He does so whistle out his compliment: He wears his feather Like the Captain of A Country Term, and would become a horse-collar Rarely; I do not think, but were he put to it, With little switching, he would draw the cart well. Virginia Tobacco grows here, Sir. A very precious Widgin: Gramercy Sack. Ask that now? Of wild oats; I herd you had much To sow still. He keeps his oath. And he, sweet Lady, being his father's issue, must run nam turally. He'll run himself out of all. Do ye know what you would done? he's you rival, invite him? But when you're beaten: lay him over the face, he sha'not wrong you. I had a great mind to have him beaten; But he's not valiant, but at meals; would I Were hired to Beatrice him handsomely after dinner, And make him thank me for't; I'll have a plot Upon your precious body, my sweet Sir. Exit. What ails my Master's sweet-he rt, she frighted? I met and asked her for my Master, and She turned tail Like a hound had lost the scent; There's something in the wind, my three piled worship Are you there with my Lady o'th' Larder, Now in that posture? do not they two look Like A fine Brick house and a thatched Bairn in the Country, Laying their heads together? they have spied me. Your worship may trust me a bed with— I Have had a itch this great while, si , a kind Of longing to be one of your appurtenances: I have some faults, and I'll confess they; I have A humour now and then, when I am asked A question, to tell true, though I be chid for't; And I do not love blows; you may sooner Beatrice My brains out, than a word of flattery: I cannot batten upon commendation, Without my wages, nor be valiant Upon small Beer; I am not overmuch Given to be drunk, but I've a trick o'th Dutchman, To do your business as well drunk as sober: I have not impudence enough to pimp For you, but I have a gift I can say nothing: I was born upon Shrovetuesday, and shall be Now and then given to rebellion: My flesh will once a year rise at a Chambermaid; If none such take me down, I shall in malice And deep revenge, fling out upon Mayday, Among the Prentices, without fear or wit. I told him, sir, You lay in a chamber o'th tother side, The house, whither he is gone with his sword drawn, And curses of themselves able to kill you: You did affront him once, and now his Mistress Has quite neglected him, for your love, he thinks: He'll make you and example to all Rivals; I'll bring your clothes hereafter, yet your fear And running, sir, will keep you warm enough. Death, is he not behind you? this way, good sir. Exeunt. He is a rogue that watches, for my partly. Good Sir. Where? But are you in earnest, Gentlemen? If there be no remedy. I have a companion hereabout: where are you Sir? Here; these good men will help us to a lodging. For certain, my master only Belongs to me, if you would speak with him, He's gone to Mistress Bellamies, Sir; In the mean time, please you to understand, I Close follow my master, and shall feed still, Although my fellows here are become blanks, And do want filling. Without her knowledge? So, so, I shall not keep the door. Let me alone to give you notice who Stirs about house. Enter Hartwell. Go your ways, A foolish Knave and Bawd, that do want nothing But carting; I would sooner see that triumph, Than all the Pageans, a day after Simon And Jude, when the fine City goes a feasting. O Sir, I have news; yes, they are gone, brave news; Your Gentlewoman can hold out no longer; This night there will be a stratagem: Old Madam Humpe a pomp, the Nurse, has promised To admit the Country Gentleman, when all Are a bed, into her chamber; yes, your Mistress: I'm o'th' plot, to lie Perdue, and give The word, if any Firelock approach The rest; imagine if he have not art to Persuade her to the feat with him, yet there Be tricks, and he may be surprised in the Chamber, And she may be compelled to marry him in Her own defence; there have been such devises. She is betrayed to't, sir. And I had meant it, I never had told you this: can you make use Of this intelligence? I promised to be his. With ease, he'll go to bed betimes, to avoid Suspicion; that's a partly of our design. Tell me your purpose, and let my wit Dispose of him. And you fallen to prayers With good love, look about us, I shall suspect You won't thrive; you should go to a wench, As Gentlemen to Oysters, without ceremony Or saying grace; devotion will spoil all. What, at this time a night? All people are a bed, the very Owls Are in their dead sleep; or if we could Be admitted, would you venture a this fashion, And publish your disgrace, proclaim your self Coward, and lay some imputation Upon the place you came from, where your Hope's May yet be fair for marriage? This brunt over. To meet some Drunkard now were comfortable, Whose eyes inflamed might serve for torches, Or he might spit flapdragons from his fire Of Sack, and light us: But no sober man, Considering what case you are in, sir, By my consent should see you. Where, where? a firedrake. I have herd some such things use to walk the fields. Pray, pray with as much strength As if you had no land, or were confined To my annuity: Now I fear no spirits; This riches makes us cowards; Hide your self, I will go nearer. Sir, where are you? You're a dead man. It's my Master with a dark Lanthorn, that pursues us: By This darkness, it's his voice, wrap your self up, And roll into some ditch, flight will betray us. It's he indeed, and more than I expected: The matters do not fadge well with his Mistress. Sir. One that has taken pains for you to night: I am Close. I wait upon My charge; I led your Rival a procession In's shirt, persuading him you had resolved To cut his throat else; he's hard by at's prayers, And thinks you have pursued him. You won't kill him basely? Why then There is no fear but he'll live long enough; I'll undertake he never shall go provided To fight with-thee; and for other satisfaction, Name it, and take it; so I'll fetch him to you. Whither now? That binds my attendance, sir. I cannot see i'th'darke with spectacles, And mine own eyes have lost him o'the luddaine; Well, I must hope the best; What shall I do With my hen-hearted lover, that would give Half his estate his cold fit were well over: I shall make work for the Phys tians: Candles and Cullices will never restore him; If he but escape with life, I am not sorry, He may be a soldier, and endure the trenches; I put him first to the becoming sufferance: But what are these? and army of horns and Halberds? Upon my conscience, the Watch; I thought The fields had not been haunted with these goblins: I cannot run; If I should squat, and they find me There were no mercy but Bridewell, Or some such lovely place; I am resolved To cast away a few good words upon they, A leg and worshipping; the Constable That leads the rusty Regiment will quit me, I pass the gates wilt often, and so may The devil if he pay the Porter; bless you: My Master's what a clock is't? Your worship may do much. At Islington, and please you, about business. To prison. I follow, Sir, I cannot leave you in adversity; All this is for your health, clean straw is warm, sir; You have the benefit of being naked: I shall have work to morrow in the woollen. Well, sir, it's easily granted. Well said Ierouinte. It's enough for you to know her, sir, And me to acknowledge. Sunk, I think.