SEBASTIAN

Sirrah, no more of your French shrugs J advice you, If you be lousy, shift your self. I say to 'th purpose. Sirrah, do not conjure me with your French furies. I doga vou, Rascal: Leave me your rotten language, and tell me plainly And quickly sirrah, left I crack your French crown, What your good Master means: I have maintained You and your Monsieur, as I take it Lancelot These two years at your ditty vous, your jours: Jour me no more, for not another penny Shall pass my purse. What Tom, boy, welcome with all my heart boy, Welcome in-faith, thou hast gladded me at soul boy, Infinite glad I am, I have prayed too, Thomas For you wild Thomas, Tom, I thank thee heartily For coming home. How's this? Humh, humh, Discretion? is it come to that? the boy's spoiled. A pox of travel, I say. Prithee no more; t'is scurvy; ther's thy sister Undone without redemption: he eats with picks Utterly spoiled, his spirit baffell'd in him. How have I find that this affliction Should light so heavy on me. I have no more sons; And this no more mine own, no spark of nature Allows him mine now, he's grown tame: my grand curse Hang over his head that thus transformed thee: travel? I'll send my horse to travel next: we monsieur, Now will my most canonical deer neighbours Say I have found my son, and rejoice with me Because he has mewed his mad tricks off. I know not, But I am sure; this Monsieur, this fine gentleman Will never be in my books Like mad Thomas, I must go seek and heir, for my inheritance Must not turn secretary: my name and quality Has kept my land three hundred years in madness, And it slip now, may it sink. Exit. Sirrah, I say still you have spoiled your Master: leave your stiches: I say thou hast spoiled thy master. Marry thou hast taught him Like and arrant rascal, First to read perfectly: which on my blessing I warned him from: for I knew if he read once, He was a lost man. Secondly, sir Lancelot, Sir lousy Lancelot, you have suffered him Against my power first, then against my precept, To keep that simpering sort of people company, That sober men call civil: mark you that Sir? It does not please my worship, Nor shall not please my worship: third and lastly, Which if the law were here, I would hang thee for, (However I will lame thee) Like a villain, Thou hast wrought him Clean to forget what it's to do a mischief, A handsome mischief, such as thou knewest I loved well. My servants all are found now, my drink sowrd, Not a horse pawned, nor played away: no warrants Come for the breach of peace. Men travel with their money, and nothing meets they: I was accursed to send thee, thou Wertenberg ever Leaning to laziness, and lose of spirit, Thou sleptest still Like a cork upon the water, Your worship knows, I ever was accounted The most deboshed, and please you to remember, Every day drunk too, for your worships credit, I broke the Butlers head too. No base Palliard J do remember yet that anslaight, thou wast beaten, And fledst before the Butler: a black Jack Playing upon thee furiously, J saw it: I saw thee scattered rogue, behold thy Master. Tom, when is the horserace? You will be there? Spoiled for ever, The cocking holds at Derby, and there will be Jack Wild-oats, and Will Purser. Yes, I will marry again: but Monsieur Thomas, What say you to the gentleman that challenged you Before he went, and the fellow you fell out with? Any woman: I care not of what colour, or complexion, Any that can bear children: rest you merry. Exit. NEver persuade me, I will marry again What should I leave my state to, pins & poking sticks To Farthingales, and frownces, to fore-horses And a old leather bawdy house behind'en To thee? Where, what is he? Who is he Like? Thou liest, thou hast marred him, Thou, and thy prayer books: I do disclaim him: Did not I take him singing yesternight A godly Ballad, to a godly tune too, And had a catechizme in's pocket Damsel, One of your deer disciples, I perceive it? When did he ride abroad since he came over? What Tavern h S he used to? what hings done That shows a man, and mettle? when was my house At such a shame before, to creep to bed At ten a clock, and twelve, for want of company? No singing, nor no dancing, nor no drinking? Thou thinkest not of these scandals; when, and where Has he but showed his sword of late. Would thou Wertenberg ashes On that condition; but believe it gossip You shall know you have wrong. He is lost, and spoiled I am resolved my rooffe Shall never harbour him: and for your Minion I'll keep you close enough, least you break lose And do more mischief; get you in: who waits. Exit. Dor. Seek the Boy: and bid him wait My pleasure in the morning: mark what house He is in, and what he do's: and truly tell me. If you do, isle hang you. Exeunt. AT Valentines house so merry? So gameson dost thou say? Ballads, and Fiddles too? Did he do devises? Come sir, what can you say? is there any hope yet You Master may return? Is he the old Tom? Go forward. Handle me that. Good, good. Good still. y'faith a fine Boy. Excellent good still. There eat, and grow again, I am pleased. If this be true, thou little tyny page This tale that thou tellest me Then on thy back will I presently hang A handson new Levery: But if this be false, thou little tyney page As false it well may be Then with a cudgel of four foot long I'll beat thee from head to toe. Enter Servant. Will the boy come. Time tries all there. To be short Thomas Because I feel a scruple in my conscience Concerning the demeanour, and a main one And therefore Like a Father would be satisfied, Get up to that window there, and presently Like a most complete Gentleman, come from Tripoli. You Rogue Lancelet, You lying rascal. Sirrah, sirrah. Lancelot du Lake Get you upon adventurers: cast your coat And make your exit. And you too presently. Bid my maid servant come: and bring my daughter I will have one shall please me. Exit sir. Bring me the money there: here M. Thomas, I pray fit down, you are no more my son now, Good gentleman be covered This money I do give you, because of whilom You have been thought my son, and by myself too, And some things done Like me: you are now another There is two hundred pound, a civil some For a young civil man: much land and Lordship Will as I take it now, but prove temptation To dread you from your settled, and sweet carriage. Nay I beseech you cover. It shall, to my use To mine again: do you see sir: good fine gentleman, I give no brooding money for a Scrivener, Mine is for present traffic, and so isle use it. For the main cause Mounsieur I sent to treat with you about, behold it; Behold that piece of story work, and view it I want a right heir to inherir me, Not my estate alone, but my conditions, From which you are revolted, therefore dead, And I will break my back, but I will get one. There, among those Damsels, In mine own tribe: I know their qualities Which cannot fail to please me: for their beauty's A matter of a three farthings, makes all perfect, A little beer, and beeffe broth: they are found too. Stand all a breast: now gentle M. Thomas Before I choose, you having lived long with me, And happily sometime with some of these too, Which fault I never frowned upon: pray show me (For fear we confound our Genealogies) Which have you laid aboard? speak your mind freely Have you had copulation with that Damsel? Stand you a side then: how with her sir? Retire you too: speak forward M. Thomas. With all that's somewhat large. With all Thomas. A sign thou art mine own yet, In again all: and to your several functions. Exit. Maids. What say you to young Luce, my neighbours daughter, She was too young I take it, when you traveled; Some twelve year old? A pretty answer, to cut of long discourse, For I have many yet to ask you of, Where I can choose, and nobly, hold up your finger When you are right: what say you to Valeria; Whose husband lies a dying now? why two, And in that form? A witty moral: have at you once more Thomas, The sisters of St. Albans, all five; that boy, Dat's mine own boy. There needs none man: A straw on pardon: prithee needs no pardon: I'll ask no more, nor think no more of marriage, For Oh my conscience I shall be thy Cuckold: Ther's some good yet left in him: bear your self well, You may recover me, ther's twenty pound sir, I see some sparkles which may flame again, You may eat with me when you please, you know me. What, are you grown so corn said goody You will not know your Father: what vaga'res Have you in hand, what out leaps, dirty heals That at these hours of night you must be gadding, And through the Orchard take your private passage; What, is the breeze in your breech, or has your brother Appointed you and hour of meditation How to demean himself: get you to bed, drab Or isle so crab your shoulders: you demure slut You civil dish of sliced beef get you in. Is't even so Dame Have at you with a night spell then. St. Geoge, St. George, our Ladies knight He walks by day, so do's he by night, And when he had her found He her Beatrice, and her bound, Until to him her troth she plighted, She would not stir from him that night. Up with your nose sir, I do not bleed, 'twas a found knock she gave me, A plaguy mankind gi le, how my brains totters? Well, go thy ways, thou hast God one thousand pound more With this dog trick, Mine own true spirit in her too, Who wouldst thou make me believe it was, the devil? He? if it be so, I'll put thee in my Will, and ther's and end on't. No more words then, we'll watch him: thou'lt not believe Lance, How heartily glad I am. No more words, but watch him. Exeunt. Why that's my daughter, rogue, dost thou not see her Kissing that fellow there, there in that corner? Now, now, now they agree o'th match too. Hang Boots sir, Why they'll wear breeches too. Why now they kiss again, there I knew 'twas she, and that her crafty stealing Out the back way must needs have such a meaning. Why dost thou follow me? Thou rascal slave hast thou not twice abused me? Hast thou not spoiled the boy? by thine own covenant, Wouldst thou not now be hanged? Thou sayest right Lance, And ther's my hand once more. Didst thou hear that? And he shall marry her, for it seems she likes him, And their first boy shall be my heir. Come, follow close, I'll see the end she aims at, And if he be a handsome fellow Lancelot, jat, it's done, and all my state is settled. Exeunt. Peace, let my joy work easily Would, boy: art there my boy: mine own boy, Tom. boy, Home Lance, and strike a fresh piece, of wine, the towns ours, A notable brave boy. I'll give thee five hundred pound more for that word. I'll bar that first. Ther's all boy, The keys of all I have, come, let's be merry, For now I see thou art right. Only to see my son, my son good Lancelot Your Master, and my son: body Oh me sir, No money, no more money Monsieur Lancelot, Not a deneere, sweet Signior: bring the person, The person of my boy, my boy Tom: Monsieur Thomas, Or get you gone again, du gata whee sir, Bassa mi cum, good Lancelot, valetote. My boy, or nothing.