SIR VAUGHAN

Why then Sir quiontilian Shorthose, I will step into mistress Bride, and Widow Miniver, shall go upon M. Bridegroom. I will usher you mistress widow. Drink that shilling Ma. Peeter Flash, in your guts and belly. I pray mistress Minevers, let us all see that point for our better understanding. In my soul and conscience, and well favoured enough to be a Lady: here is sir ntilian Sorthose, and here is sir Adam Prickshaft, a sentleman of a very good brain, and well headed: you see he shoots his bolt seldom, but when Adam lets go, he hits: and here is sir Vaughan ap Rees, and I believe if God sud take us all from his mercy, as I hope he will not yet; we all three love you, at the bottom of our bel lies, and our hearts: and therefore mistress Miniver, if you please, you shall be knighted by one of us, whom you fallen de sire to put into your device and mind. By Sesu and if I find any crowing over you, & he were a cock (come out as far as in Turkeys country) 'tis pos sible to cut his comb off. I pray do so, Musicians bestir your singers, that you may have us Pray all stand bore, as well men as women: Sir Adam is best you hide your head for fear your wise brains take key-colde: on afore Sir Kintilian; Sentlemen fallen in before he Ladies, in seemly order and fashion; so this is come you. A simple life! by Sesu 'tis the life of a fool, a sim ple life! Peter Salamanders draw out the pictures of all the joint stools, & Ladies fit down upon their wooden faces. Patience Captain Tucky, let me absolve him; I mean he shall prick, prick your head or sconce a little with his goose-quils, for he shall make another Thalimum, or cross ticks, or some Polinoddyes, with a few Nappy-grams in them that shall lift up hair, and set it and end, with his learned and hearty commendations. By God 'tis the best tongue, I can buy for love or money. Peeter you go too fast for Mistress pride: so, gin gerly, gingerly; I muse why Sir Adam Prickeshaft sticks so short behind? Sesu plesse us all in our five senses a piece, what mean ye sir Kintilian Sorthose to stand so much on a dozen stools, here be not breeches enough to hide a dozen stools, unless you wiss some of us preake his sins. Sir Adam Prickshaft has hit the clout Master Peter Flash, I will grope about Sir Quin tilian, for his terminations touching and considering you. I hope in God a mighty, I shall fill your stomach Master Peter: What two upon one Sentlemen; Mistress Miniver, much good doo't you Sir Adam. As good seere as would make any hungry man (and a were in the vilest prison in the world) eat and he had any stomach: One word Sir Quintilian in hugger mugger; here is a Sentleman of yours, Master Peter Flash, is tesirous to have his blue coat pulled over his ears; and— Why then Peter Flash I will set my four marks a year, and a blue coat upon you. Are you come Master Horace, you sent me the Copy of your letters countenance, and I did write and read it; your wits truly have done very valiantly: 'tis a good inditements, you would put in enough for her would you not? No, though he has a very bade face for a soldier, yet he has as desperate a wit as ever any Scholar went to cuffs for; 'tis a Sentleman Poet, he has made rhymes called Thalamimums, for M. Pridegroome, on vrd widow. Mistress Miniver, one vrde in your corner here; I desire you to break my arms here, and read this Paper, you shall feel my minds and affections in it, at full and at large. 'Tis true, but at wrong weapons Sir Adam; will you be and Ass Mistress Minivers? Come M, Horace, I will go pull out the Ladies. Ladies I am to put a very easy suit upon you all, and to desire you to fill your little pellies at a dinner of plums behind noon; there be Suckets, and Marmilads, and Mar chants, and other long white plums that feign would kiss your delicate and sweet lips; I indite you all together, and you especially my Lady Pride; what do you say for your sells? for I indite you all. Say Sentlewomen will you stand to me too? God a mighty plesse your faces, and make your peauties last, when we are all dead and rotten:—you all will come. Pray God that Horace be in his right wits to rail now. Master Horace, Master Horace, when I pray to God, and desire in hipocrit es that bald Sir Adam's were her, then, then, then begin to make you ra less at the poverty and beggarly want of hair. M. Bubo fit there, you and I will think upon our ends at the Tables: M. Horace, put your learned body into the amid of these Ladies; so 'tis no matter to speak graces at nun tions, because we are all passed grace since dinner. Hemeanes balde-pates mistress Mini ers. True M. Horace, for a bald reason, is a reason that has no hairs vpon't, a scurvy scalded reason. Welcome M. Tucca, fit and shoot into the r bel lie some Sugar pellets. Then M. Horace you played the partly of and honest man. God bless us, will be drunk with nittigrams now. Vddes blood you scald gouty Captain, why come you to set encumbrances here between the Ladies. Sblud, I, what continued ̄ putations can you lay to his ge? answer, or by See u I'll canvas your coxcomb Tucky. Cumrade by Sesu call me Cumrade again, and isle Cumrade you about the sins and shoulders; ownds, what come you to smell out here? did you not dine and feed hor ribly well to day at dinner, but you come to munch h ere, and give us winter-plums? I pray depart, go marse, marse, marse out a doors. Will you amble Hobbyhorse, will you trot and amble? Peter Salamander, tie up your great and your little sword, by Sesu I'll go sing him while 'tis hight, I'll beat five pound out of his leather pilch: Master Horace, let your wits inhabit in your right places; if I fallen sansomely upon that Widow, I have some cossens Garman at Court, shall beget you the reversion of the Master of the Kings Revels, or else be his Lord of Misrule now at Christmas: Come Ladies, whoreson Straggling Captain, I'll pound him. Upon him? go too, go too Peter Sal mander; hold, in Gods name hold; I will kill him to his face, because I mean he shall answer for I ; being and eyewitness; one vrde Captain Tucky. L ave your fetches and your fegaries, you tough leather-jerkins; leave your quandaries, and tricks, and draw upon me you're best: you conny-catch Widow Miniver-caps for five pounds, and say 'tis for me to cry Mum, and make me run up and down in dishonours, and discredites; is't not true, you winke-a-pipes rascal? is not true? By Sesu, I would not the mercy to fallen upon him now: M. Tucky, did widow Minivers partly quietly from her gold, because you lied and said it was for me? Captain Tucky, I will pay back her 5. l . (unless you be damned in lies) & hold you, I pray you pocket up this; by the cross a this sword & dagger, Captain you shall take it. Done Peter, put up your S eeter. At me? will he ling the cudgels of his wit to me? Turn you into a fools coat; I mean I will go solus, or in solitaries alone; ounds yare best give better words, or I'll turn you away indeed; where is Captain Tucky? come Horace; get you home Peter. By your favour Master Tucky, his bald rea sons are wide above two hairs, I besees you pardon me Ladies, that I thrust in so malepartly among you, for I did but Much he e, and see how this cruel Poet did handle bald heads. I am glad M. Horace, to see you walking. By Sesu, as blunt as a Welsh bag-pudding. Hold, lence, the puppet-teach speaks. You remember Horace they will punk, and pincke, and pump you, and they catch you by the coxcomb: on I pray, one lash, a little more. And Jewels Master Horace, must be hanged you know. To conclude, 'tis after this manners, because Ma. Horace is ambition, and does conspire to be more hie and tall as God a migh e made him, wee'll Can ry his terrible, per son to Court, and there before his Masestie Dub, or what you call it, dip his Muse in some liquour, and Christian him, or die him, into colours of a Poet. Call upon God a mighty, and no Muses, your Muse I warrant is otherwise occupied, there is no de ling with your Muse now, therefore I pray marse, marse, marse, oundes your Moose? News? God 'tis as urse news as I can desire to bring about me: our unhandsome-faced Poet does play at bo-peepes with your Grace, and cries all-hidde as boys do. Drunkerds I hold my life. Go too, I pray Captain Tucca, give us all leave to do our business before the King. Horace and Bubo, pray send and answer into his Masesties ears, why you go thus in Ovid's Morter-Morphesis and strange fashions of apparel. By Sesu so you shall M. Bubo; flay off this hairy skin M. Horace, so, so, so, untruss, untruss. Yes indeed ant please your Grace, he does sup up that abominable name. Master Afinius Bubo, you shall swear as little as you can, one oath shall dam up your Innocent mouth. Trudge then, pay your legs for Fees, and be dis sarg'd. 'Tis not your sting of conscience, is it? Secondly, when you bid all your friends to the marriage of a poor couple, that is to say: your Wits and necessities, alias dictus, to the rifling of your Muse: alias, your Muses upsitting: alias a Poets Whitson-Ale; you shall swear that within three days after, you shall not abroad, in Bookbinders shops, brag that your Vize-royes or Tri butorie-Kings, have done homage to you, or paid quar terage. In brieflynes, when you Sup in Tauer es, a amongst your betters, you shall swear not to dip your Manners in too much sauce, nor at Table to fling Epi grams, Emblems, or Play-speeches about you (like Hailstones) to keep you out of the terrible danger of the Shot, upon pain to fit at the upper end of the Table, a'th left hand of Carlo Buffon: swear all this, by A pollo and the eight or nine Muses. Play out your rubbers in Gods name, by Sesu I'll boul more in your Alley, Iddow. I trust mistress Miniver you have all a honest woman should have? God bless your Majesty, and send you to be along King William Rufus over us, when he sees his times & pleasures. By Sesu 'tis no libel, for here is my hand to it. Right, to spit bitterly upon baldness, or the thinness of hair; you all eat down Plumbs to sweeten your mouth, and here is a good Ansell to defend you: Peter Sa lamander follow me. Ownds, five pound in my name to Mum a bout withal. Oundes me that's treason: clip? horribl treasons, See u hold my hands; clip? he baits mousetraps for my life. Silence, pray let all v des be strangled, or held fast between your teeth. Sir Adam, and Ape? ther's no more reason in and Ape, than in a very plain Monkey; for and Ape has no tail, but we all know, or 'tis our duty to know, love has two tails; In my sudsment, if love be a beast, that beast is a bounce of Read dis; for a bounce of Reddis is wise meat without Mutton, and so is love. And Master Captain Tucca said wisely too, love is a Rebato indeed: a Rebato must be poked; now many women wear Rebates, and many that wear Re batoes— My brains has a little fine quawme come un der it, and therefore Sir Adam, and Sir Quintilian, and mistress Miniver caps God bo'y. Master Horace, your inventions do her no good in the Universalities; yet here is two shillings for your wits; nay by Sesu you shall take it if't were more: yonder bald Adam's, is put my nose from his joint; but Adam I will be even to you: this is my cogitations, I will indite the Ladies & Miniver caps to a dinner of Plumbs, and I shall desire you M. Horace, to speak or rail; you can rail I hope in God a mighty. Ladies and Sentlemen, you are almost all well come, to this swe to nuncions of Plums. My interpretations is that almost all are well come, because I indited a brace or two more that is not come, I am sorry my Lady Pride is not among you. Nay uds blood, their endue is to be a the right hair as I am, and that was not in his fingers to give, but in God a Mighties: Well, I will hire that humorous and fantastical Poet Master Horace, to break your bald pate Sir Adam. Right, Peter is my Salamander; what of him? but Peter is never burned: how now? so, go too now. Ounds Captain you have put all Poetry to the dint of sword, blow wind about him: Ladies for our Lords sake you that have smocks, tear off pieces to shoot through his oundes: Is he dead and buried is he? pull his nose, pinch, rub, rub, rub, rub. Whom? the Composer, the Prince of Poets, Ho raze, Horace, he's departed: in Gods name and the Kings I sarge you to ring it out from all our ears, for Horaces body is departed: Master hue and cry shall—God bless King Williams, I cry you mercy and ask forgiveness, for mine eyes did not find in their hearts to look upon your Ma iestie. Inprimis, you shall swear by Phœbus and the half S re M ses lacking one not to swear to hang your self, if you thought any Man, Ooman or Silde, could write Plays and , as well-fauo ed ones as your self. You shall swear not to bombast out a new Play, with the old linings of Jests, stolen from the Tem ples Revels. More eouer and Inpri is, when a Knight or Sentlemen of vrship, does give you his passe-p to, to tram vail in and out to his Company, and gives you money for Gods sake; I trust in Sesu, you will swear (tooth and nail) not to make sealde and wry-mouth Jests upon his Knighthood, will you not? I am glad, our Majesty will take any thing at my hands; my words trust in Sesu, are spoken between my soul and body together, and have neither Felonies nor treasons a bout them, I hope. Good words sir Vaughan? thats by interpertation in english, you r best give good words sir Vaughan: God and his Ansells bless me, what ails his majesty to be so tedious and difficult in his right minds now, I hold my life that file ras call-rymer Horace hath puzd and puzd above a hundred merry tales and lice, into his great and princely ears: by God and he use it, his being Phœbus priest cannot save him, if he were his Sapline too idem press upon his coxcomb: good lord bless me out of his majesty's cellar: King Williams, I hope 'tis none of fences to make a supplication to God a mighty for your long life: for by shesu I have no meaning in't in all the world, unless rascals be here that will have your grace take shalke for she's, and unless Horace has sent lie e to your majesty. As hard-fauourd a fellow as your majesty has seen in a summer's day: he does pen, an't please your grace, toys that will not please your grace; 'tis a Poet, we call them Bards in our Country, sings ballads and rhymes, and I was mighty sealous, that his Ink which is black and full of gall, had bro ught my name to your majesty, and so lifted up your hie and princely collar. Mistress Miniver: Perdy by this Miniver cap, and according to his masesties leave too, you shall be put in among These Ladies, & dance ere long I trest in God, the saking of the seetes. I can tell you Master Flash, and you follow me I go very fast, I think in my conscience, I am one of the light est knights in England. 'Tis passing well, I pray Master Horace walk a little beside your self, I will turn upon you incontinent. You bear the face of and honest man, for you blush passing well Peter, I will quench the flame out of your name, and you shall be christened Peter Salamander. Pray stop and fill your mouths, and give M. Ho raze all your ears. Beside you must for swear to venture on the stage, when your Play is ended, and to exchange curtezies, and compliments with Gallants in the Lords rooms, to make all the house rise up in Arms, and to cry that's Horace, that's he, that's he, that's he, that pens and purges Humours and diseases. Peter Salamanders wine, I beseech you Master Asinius Bubo, not to swear so deeply, for there comes no fruit of your oaths; here Ladies, I put you all into one cor ners together, you shall all drink of one cup. Mistress Minivers, pray be lusty, wood Sir Adam's Prickshaft stuck by you. For five pounds you cheating scab, for 5. pounds, not for me. The same M. Horace, he that has but a remnant or parcel of hair, his crown is clipped and pared away; me thinks 'tis and excellent quality to be bald; for and there stuck a nose and two nyes in his pate, he might wear two faces un der one hood. Then Mistress Miniver S. Adam's Prickshaft must not hit you; Peter take up all the clothes at the table and the Plums. Why then widow, I'll tell you by word a mouth my devices. Foh? oundes you make him urse than old her ring: foh? by Sesu I think he's as tidy, and as tall a Poet as e ver drew out a long verse. By Sesu, 'tis best you give good vrdes too, least I b ate out your tongue, and make your vrde never to be taken more; do you hear, five pounds, five pounds Tucky. Peter, leave coming behind me, I pray any lon her for you and I must partly Peter. Oundes make him prove these intollera bilities. Two vrds Horace about your ears: how changed nce it passes, that you bid God b yg to and one to trade of building Symneys, and laying down Bricks, for a worse handicraft nes to make nothing but rai es; your Mu e leans upon no thing but filthy rotten ails, such as stand on Poule's head, how chance? You lie S r varlet sir llaine, I am sir Salamanders, ounds, is my man Master Peter Salamanders face as urse as mine? Sentlemen, all and Ladies, and you say once or twice Amen, I will lap this little Silde, this Booby in his blankets again. Ounds did you see him, I pray let all his Masesties most excellent dogs, be set at liberties, and have their freedoms to smell him out. He's reprehended and taken, by Sesu I rejoice we ry near as much as if I had discovered a Newfound Land, or the North and East Indies. Has a very sufficient name, and is a man has do God and his Country as good and as hight Service (in conque ring this vile Monster-Poet) as ever did S. George his horse back about the Dragon. You shall swear by Phœbus (who is your Po ets good Lord and Master,) that hereafter you will not hire Horace, to give you poesies for rings, or handkerchers, or knives which you understand not, nor to write your Love letters; which you (in turning of a hand) set your marks up on, as your own: nor you shall not carry Latin Poets about you, till you can write and read English at most; and lastly that you shall not call Horace your Ningle. Now Master Horace, you must be a more horrible swearer, for your oath must be (Like your wits) of many col lours; and Like a Brokers book of many parcels. Moreover you shall not fit in a Gallery, when your Comedies and Interludes have entered their Actions, and there make vile and bade faces at every line, to make Sentlemen have and eye to you, and to make Players afraid to take your partly. Thirdly, and last of all saving one, when your Plays are misse-likt at Court, you shall not cry Mew Like a Pusse-cat, and say you are glad you write out of the Courtiers Element. The same would worser still, it is your own another day, M. Horace, admonitions is good meat. Hold I pray, hold, by See u I have put up on my head, a fi e device, to make you laugh, 'tis not your fools Cap Master Horace, which you covered your Po etasters in, but a fine trick, would, would is jumbling in my brain.