Every Man in His Humor - BestLightNovel.com
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Clem. A soldier! take down my armour, my sword quickly. A soldier speak with me! Why, when, knaves? Come on, come on; [arms himself]
hold my cap there, so; give me my gorget, my sword: stand by, I will end your matters anon.--Let the soldier enter.
[Exit Servant.
Enter BOBADILL, followed by MATHEW.
Now, sir, what have you to say to me? Bob. By your wors.h.i.+p's favour--
Clem. Nay, keep out, sir; I know not your pretence. You send me word, sir, you are a soldier: why, sir, you shall be answer'd here: here be them that have been amongst soldiers. Sir, your pleasure.
Bob. Faith, sir, so it is, this gentleman and myself have been most uncivilly wrong'd and beaten by one Downright, a coa.r.s.e fellow, about the town here; and for mine own part, I protest, being a man in no sort given to this filthy humour of quarrelling, he hath a.s.saulted me in the way of my peace, despoiled me of mine honour, disarmed me of my weapons, and rudely laid me along in the open streets, when I not so much as once offered to resist him.
Clem. O, G.o.d's precious! is this the soldier? Here, take my armour off quickly, 'twill make him swoon, I fear; he is not fit to look on't, that will put up a blow.
Mat. An't please your wors.h.i.+p, he was bound to the peace.
Clem. Why, an he were, sir, his hands were not bound, were they?
Re-enter Servant.
Serv. There's one of the varlets of the city, sir, has brought two gentlemen here; one, upon your wors.h.i.+p's warrant.
Clem. My warrant!
Serv. Yes, sir; the officer says, procured by these two.
Clem. Bid him come in. [Exit Servant.] Set by this picture.
Enter DOWNRIGHT, STEPHEN, and BRAINWORM, disguised as before.
What, Master Downright! are you brought in at Mr. Freshwater's suit here?
Dow. I'faith, sir, and here's another brought at my suit.
Clem. What are you, sir?
Step. A gentleman, sir. O, uncle!
Clem. Uncle! who, Master Knowell?
Know. Ay, sir; this is a wise kinsman of mine.
Step. G.o.d's my witness, uncle, I am wrong'd here monstrously, he charges me with stealing of his cloak, and would I might never stir, if I did not find it in the street by chance.
Dow. O, did you find it now? You said you bought it erestwhile.
Step. And you said, I stole it: nay, now my uncle is here, I'll do well enough with you.
Clem. Well, let this breathe awhile. You that have cause to complain there, stand forth: Had you my warrant for this gentleman's apprehension?
Bob. Ay, an't please your wors.h.i.+p.
Clem. Nay, do not speak in pa.s.sion so: where had you it?
Bob. Of your clerk, sir.
Clem. That's well! an my clerk can make warrants, and my hand not at them! Where is the warrant-officer, have you it?
Brai. No, sir; your wors.h.i.+p's man, Master Formal, bid me do it for these gentlemen, and he would be my discharge.
Clem. Why, Master Downright, are you such a novice, to be ser'ved and never see the warrant?
Dow. Sir, he did not serve it on me.
Clem. No! how then?
Dow. Marry, sir, he came to me, and said he must serve it, and he would use me kindly, and so--
Clem. O, G.o.d's pity, was it so, sir? He must serve it! Give me my long sword there, and help me off. So, come on, sir varlet, I must cut off your legs, sirrah; [Brainworm kneels.] nay, stand up, I'll use you kindly, I must cut off your legs, I say.
[Flourishes over him with his long sword.
Brai. O, good sir, I beseech you; nay, good master justice!
Clem. I must do it, there is no remedy; I must cut off your legs, sirrrah, I must cut off your ears, you rascal, I must do it: I must cut off your nose, I must cut off your head.
Brai. O, good your wors.h.i.+p!
Clem. Well, rise; how dost thou do now? dost thou feel thyself well? hast thou no harm?
Brai. No, I thank your good wors.h.i.+p, sir.
Clem. Why so! I said I must cut off thy legs, and I must cut off thy arms, and I must cut off thy head; but I did not do it: so you said you must serve this gentleman with my warrant, but you did not serve him. You knave, you slave, you rogue, do you say you must, sirrah! away with him to the jail; I'll teach you a trick for your must, sir.
Brai. Good sir, I beseech you, be good to me.
Clem. Tell him he shall to the jail; away with him, I say.
Brai. Nay, sir, if you will commit me, it shall be for committing more than this: I will not lose by my travail any grain of my fame, certain.
[Throws off his serjeant's gown.
Clem. How is this?
Know. My man Brainworm!
Step. O, yes, uncle; Brainworm has been with my cousin Edward and I all this day.
Clem. I told you all there was some device.
Brai. Nay, excellent justice, since I have laid myself thus open to you, now stand strong for me; both with your sword and your balance.
Clem. Body O' me, a merry knave! give me a bowl of sack: if he belong to you, Master Knowell, I bespeak your patience.