Scene III A Room in Matheo’s House
Enter Matheo, Lodovico, and Orlando disguised as a Serving-man.
Mat. Let who will come, my noble chevalier, I can but play the kind host, and bid ’em welcome.
Lod. We’ll trouble your house, Matheo, but as Dutchmen do in taverns, drink, be merry, and be gone.
Orl. Indeed, if you be right Dutchmen, if you fall to drinking, you must be gone.
Mat. The worst is, my wife is not at home; but we’ll fly high, my generous knight, for all that: there’s no music when a woman is in the concert.
Orl. No; for she’s like a pair of virginals,
Always with jacks at her tail.
Enter Astolfo, Carolo, Beraldo and Fontinell.
Lod. See, the covey is sprung.
Ast., Car., &c. Save you, gallants.
Mat. Happily encountered, sweet bloods.
Lod. Gentlemen, you all know Signor Candido, the linen-draper, he that’s more patient than a brown baker, upon the day when he heats his oven, and has forty scolds about him.
Ast., Car., &c. Yes, we know him all, what of him?
Lod. Would it not be a good fit of mirth, to make a piece of English cloth of him, and to stretch him on the tenters, till the threads of his own natural humour crack, by making him drink healths, tobacco,293 dance, sing bawdy songs, or to run any bias according as we think good to cast him?
Car. ’Twere a morris-dance worth the seeing.
Ast. But the old fox is so crafty, we shall hardly hunt him out of his den.
Mat. To that train I ha’ given fire already; and the hook to draw him hither, is to see certain pieces of lawn, which I told him I have to sell, and indeed have such; fetch them down, Pacheco.
Orl. Yes, sir, I’m your water-spaniel, and will fetch any thing—but I’ll fetch one dish of meat anon shall turn your stomach, and that’s a constable. [Aside and exit.
Enter Bots ushering in Mistress Horseleech.
Ast., Ber., Fon. How now? how now?
Car. What gally-foist294 is this?
Lod. Peace, two dishes of stewed prunes,295 a bawd and a pander. My worthy lieutenant Bots; why, now I see thou’rt a man of thy word, welcome.—Welcome Mistress Horseleech: pray, gentlemen, salute this reverend matron.
Mis. H. Thanks to all your worships.
Lod. I bade a drawer send in wine, too: did none come along with thee, grannam, but the lieutenant?
Mis. H. None came along with me but Bots, if it like your worship.
Bots. Who the pox should come along with you but Bots.
Enter two Vintners with wine.
Ast., Car., &c. Oh brave! march fair.
Lod. Are you come? that’s well.
Mat. Here’s ordnance able to sack a city.
Lod. Come, repeat, read this inventory.
1st Vint. Imprimis, a pottle of Greek wine, a pottle of Peter-sameene,296 a pottle of Charnico,297 and a pottle of Leatica.298
Lod. You’re paid?
2nd Vint. Yes, Sir. [Exeunt Vintners.
Mat. So shall some of us be anon, I fear.
Bots. Here’s a hot day towards: but zounds, this is the life out of which a soldier sucks sweetness! when this artillery goes off roundly, some must drop to the ground: cannon, demi-cannon, saker, and basilisk.299
Lod. Give fire, lieutenant.
Bots. So, so: Must I venture first upon the breach? to you all, gallants: Bots sets upon you all. [Drinks.
Ast., Car., &c. It’s hard, Bots, if we pepper not you, as well as you pepper us.
Enter Candido.
Lod. My noble linen-draper!—some wine!—Welcome old lad!
Mat. You’re welcome, signor.
Cand. These lawns, sir?
Mat. Presently; my man is gone for them: we ha’ rigged a fleet, you see here, to sail about the world.
Cand. A dangerous voyage, sailing in such ships.
Bots. There’s no casting over board yet.
Lod. Because you are an old lady, I will have you be acquainted with this grave citizen, pray bestow your lips upon him, and bid him welcome.
Mis. H. Any citizen shall be most welcome to me:—I have used to buy ware at your shop.
Cand. It may be so, good madam.
Mis. H. Your prentices know my dealings well; I trust your good wife be in good case: if it please you, bear her a token from my lips, by word of mouth. [Kisses him.
Cand. I pray no more; forsooth, ’tis very well,
Indeed I love no sweetmeats:—Sh’as a breath
Stinks worse than fifty polecats. [Aside.] Sir, a word,
Is she a lady?
Lod. A woman of a good house, and an ancient, she’s a bawd.
Cand. A bawd? Sir, I’ll steal hence, and see your lawns
Some other time.
Mat. Steal out of such company? Pacheco, my man is but gone for ’em: Lieutenant Bots, drink to this worthy old fellow, and teach him to fly high.
Lod., Ast., &c. Swagger: and make him do’t on his knees.
Cand. How, Bots? now bless me, what do I with Bots?
No wine in sooth, no wine, good Master Bots.
Bots. Gray-beard, goat’s pizzle: ’tis a health, have this in your guts, or this, there [Touching his sword.] I will sing a bawdy song, sir, because your verjuice face is melancholy, to make liquor go down glib. Will you fall on your marrowbones, and pledge this health? ’Tis to my mistress, a whore.
Cand. Here’s ratsbane upon ratsbane, Master Bots;
I pray, sir, pardon me: you are a soldier,
Press me not to this service, I am old,
And shoot not in such pot-guns.300
Bots. Cap. I’ll teach you.
Cand. To drink healths, is to drink sickness—gentlemen.
Pray rescue me.
Bots. Zounds, who dare?
Lod., Ast., &c. We shall ha’ stabbing then?
Cand. I ha’ reckonings to cast up, good Master Bots.
Bots. This will make you cast ’em up better.
Lod. Why does your hand shake so?
Cand. The palsy, signor, danceth in my blood.
Bots. Pipe with a pox, sir, then, or I’ll make your blood dance—
Cand. Hold, hold, good Master Bots, I drink. [Kneels.301
Ast., Lod., &c. To whom?
Cand. To the old countess there. [Drinks.
Mis. H. To me, old boy? this is he that never drunk wine! Once again to’t.
Cand. With much ado the poison is got down,
Though I can scarce get up; never before
Drank I a whore’s health, nor will never more.
Re-enter Orlando with lawns.
Mat. Hast been at gallows?
Orl. Yes, sir, for I make account to suffer to day.
Mat. Look, signor; here’s the commodity.
Cand. Your price?
Mat. Thus.302
Cand. No: too dear: thus.
Mat. No: O fie, you must fly higher: yet take ’em home, trifles shall not make us quarrel, we’ll agree, you shall have them, and a pennyworth; I’ll fetch money at your shop.
Cand. Be it so, good signor, send me going.
Mat. Going? a deep bowl of wine for Signor Candido.
Orl. He would be going.
Cand. I’ll rather stay than go so: stop your bowl.
Enter Constable and Billmen.
Lod. How now?
Bots. Is’t Shrove-Tuesday, that these ghosts walk?303
Mat. What’s your business, sir?
Const. From the duke: you are the man we look for, signor. I have warrant here from the duke, to apprehend you upon felony for robbing two pedlars: I charge you i’th’ duke’s name go quickly.
Mat. Is the wind turned? Well: this is that old wolf, my father-in-law:—seek out your mistress, sirrah.
Orl. Yes, Sir,—as shafts by piecing are made strong,
So shall thy life be straightened by this wrong. [Aside and exit.
Lod., Ast., &c. In troth, we are sorry.
Mat. Brave men must be crossed; pish, it’s but fortune’s dice roving against me. Come, sir, pray use me like a gentleman; let me not be carried through the streets like a pageant.
Const. If these gentlemen please, you shall go along with them.
Lod., Ast., &c. Be’t so: come.
Const. What are you, sir?
Bots. I, sir? sometimes a figure, sometimes a cipher, as the State has occasion to cast up her accounts: I’m a soldier.
Const. Your name is Bots, is’t not?
Bots. Bots is my name; Bots is known to this company.
Const. I know you are, sir: what’s she?
Bots. A gentlewoman, my mother.
Const. Take ’em both along.
Bots. Me, sir?
Billmen. Ay, sir!
Const. If he swagger, raise the street.
Bots. Gentlemen, gentlemen, whither will you drag us?
Lod. To the garden house. Bots, are we even with you?
Const. To Bridewell with ’em.
Bots. You will answer this.
Const. Better than a challenge. I’ve warrant for my work, sir.
Lod. We’ll go before.
Const. Pray do.—
[Exeunt Matheo with Lodovico, Astolfo, Carolo, Beraldo, and Fontinell; Bots and Mistress Horseleech, with Billmen.
Who, Signor Candido? a citizen
Of your degree consorted thus, and revelling
In such a house?
Cand. Why, sir? what house, I pray?
Const. Lewd, and defamed.
Cand. Is’t so? thanks, sir: I’m gone.
Const. What have you there?
Cand. Lawns which I bought, sir, of the gentleman that keeps the house.
Const. And I have warrant here,
To search for such stol’n ware: these lawns are stol’n.
Cand. Indeed!
Const. So he’s the thief, you the receiver:
I’m sorry for this chance, I must commit you.
Cand. Me, sir, for what?
Const. These goods are found upon you,
And you must answer’t.
Cand. Must I so?
Const. Most certain.
Cand. I’ll send for bail.
Const. I dare not: yet because
You are a citizen of worth, you shall not
Be made a pointing stock, but without guard,
Pass only with myself.
Cand. To Bridewell too?
Const. No remedy.
Cand. Yes, patience: being not mad,
They had me once to Bedlam, now I’m drawn
To Bridewell, loving no whores.
Const. You will buy lawn! [Exeunt.