Every Man in His Humor Part 9

Step. Nay, an't be mine, it shall have a velvet scapbard, coz, that's flat; I'd not wear it, as it is, an you would give me an angel,

Brai. At your wors.h.i.+p's pleasure, sir; nay, 'tis a most pure Toledo.

Step. I had rather it were a Spaniard. But tell me, what shall I give you for it? An it had a silver hilt

E. Know. Come, come, you shall not buy it: hold, there's a s.h.i.+lling, fellow; take thy rapier.

Step. Why, but I will buy it now, because you say so; and there's another s.h.i.+lling, fellow; I scorn to be out-bidden. What, shall I walk with a cudgel, like Higginbottom, and may have a rapier for money.

E. Know. You may buy one in the city.

Step. Tut! I'll buy this i' the field, so I will: I have a mind to't, because 'tis a field rapier. Tell me your lowest price.

E. Know. You shall not buy it, I. say.

Step. By this money, but I will, though I give more than 'tis worth.

E. Know. Come away, you are a fool.

Step. Friend, I am a fool, that's granted; but I'll have it, for that word's sake. Follow me for your money.

Brai. At your service, sir.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.---Another Part of Moorfields.

Enter KNOWELL.

Know.

I cannot lose the thought yet of this letter, Sent to my son; nor leave t' admire the change Of manners, and the breeding of our youth Within the kingdom, since myself was one--- When I was young, he lived not in the stews Durst have conceived a scorn, and utter'd it, On a gray head; age was authority Against a buffoon, and a man had then A certain reverence paid unto his years, That had none due unto his life: so much The sanct.i.ty of some prevail'd for others.

But now we all are fallen; youth, from their fear, And age, from that which bred it, good example.

Nay, would ourselves were not the first, even parents, That did destroy the hopes in our own children; Or they not learn'd our vices in their cradles, And suck'd in our ill customs with their milk; Ere all their teeth be born, or they can speak, We make their palates cunning; the first words We form their tongues with, are licentious jests: Can it call wh.o.r.e? cry b.a.s.t.a.r.d? O, then, kiss it!

A witty child! can't swear? the father's darling!

Give it two plums. Nay, rather than't shall learn No bawdy song, the mother herself will teach it!--- But this is in the infancy, the days Of the long coat; when it puts on the breeches, It will put off all this: Ay, it is like, When it is gone into the bone already!

No, no; this dye goes deeper than the coat, Or s.h.i.+rt, or skin; it stains into the liver, And heart, in some; and, rather than it should not, Note what we fathers do! look how we live!

What mistresses we keep! at what expense, In our sons' eyes! where they may handle our gifts, Hear our lascivious courts.h.i.+ps, see our dalliance, Taste of the same provoking meats with us, To ruin of our states! Nay, when our own Portion is fled, to prey on the remainder, We call them into fellows.h.i.+p of vice; Bait 'em with the young chamber-maid, to seal, And teach 'em all bad ways to buy affliction.

This is one path: but there are millions more, In which we spoil our own, with leading them.

Well, I thank heaven, I never yet was he That travell'd with my son, before sixteen, To shew him the Venetian courtezans; Nor read the grammar of cheating I had made, To my sharp boy, at twelve; repeating still The rule, Get money; still, get money, boy; No matter by what means; money will do More, boy, than my lord's letter. Neither have I Drest snails or mushrooms curiously before him, Perfumed my sauces, and taught him how to make them; Preceding still, with my gray gluttony, At all the ord'naries, and only fear'd His palate should degenerate, not his manners.

These are the trade of fathers now; however, My son, I hope, hath met within my threshold None of these household precedents, which are strong, And swift, to rape youth to their precipice.

But let the house at home be ne'er so clean Swept, or kept sweet from filth, nay dust and cobwebs, If he will live abroad with his companions, In dung and leystals, it is worth a fear; Nor is the danger of conversing less Than all that I have mention'd of example.

Enter BRAIN WORM, disguised as before.

Brai. My master! nay, faith, have at you; I am flesh'd now, I have sped so well. [Aside.] Wors.h.i.+pful sir, I beseech you, respect the estate of a poor soldier; lam ashamed of this base course of life,--G.o.d's my comfort--but extremity provokes me to't: what remedy?

Know. I have not for you, now.

Brai. By the faith I bear unto truth, gentleman, it is no ordinary custom in me, but only to preserve manhood. I protest to you, a man I have been: a man I may be, by your sweet bounty.

Know. Pray thee, good friend, be satisfied.

Brai. Good sir, by that hand, you may do the part of a kind gentleman, in lending a poor soldier the price of two cans of beer, a matter of small value: the king of heaven shall pay you, and I shall rest thankful: Sweet wors.h.i.+p--

Know. Nay, an you be so importunate

Brai. Oh, tender sir! need will have its course: I was not made to this vile use. Well, the edge of the enemy could not have abated me so much: it's hard when a man hath served in his prince's cause, and be thus. [Weeps.] Honourable wors.h.i.+p, let me derive a small piece of silver from you, it shall not be given in the course of time. By this good ground, I was fain to p.a.w.n my rapier last night for a poor supper; I had suck'd the hilts long before, am a pagan else: Sweet honour--

Know.

Believe me, I am taken with some wonder, To think a fellow of thy outward presence, Should, in the frame and fas.h.i.+on of his mind, Be so degenerate, and sordid-base.

Art thou a man? and sham'st thou not to beg, To practise such a servile kind of life?

Why, were thy education ne'er so mean, Having thy limbs, a thousand fairer courses Offer themselves to thy election.

Either the wars might still supply thy wants, Or service of some virtuous gentleman, Or honest labour; nay, what can I name, But would become thee better than to beg: But men of thy condition feed on sloth, As cloth the beetle on the dung she breeds in; Nor caring how the metal of your minds Is eaten with the rust of idleness.

Now, afore me, whate'er he be, that should Relieve a person of thy quality, While thou insist'st in this loose desperate course, I would esteem the sin not thine, but his.

Brai. Faith, sir, I would gladly find some other course, if so---

Know.

Ay, You'd gladly find it, but you will not seek it.

Brai. Alas, sir, where should a man seek? in the wars; there's no ascent by desert in these days; but--and for service, would it were as soon purchased, as wished for! the air's my comfort.--- [Sighs.]---l know what I would say.

Know. What's thy name?

Brai. Please you, Fitz-Sword, sir.

Know. Fitz-Sword!

Say that a man should entertain thee now, Wouldst thou be honest, humble, just, and true?

Brai. Sir, by the place and honour of a soldier---

Know. Nay, nay, I like not these affected oaths; speak plainly, man, what think'st thou of my words?

Brai. Nothing, sir, but wish my fortunes were as happy as my service should be honest.

Know.

Well, follow me; I'll prove thee, if thy deeds Will carry a proportion to thy words. [Exit.

Brai. Yes, sir, straight; I'll but garter my hose. Oh that my belly were hoop'd now, for I am ready to burst with laughing! never was bottle or bagpipe fuller. 'Slid, was there ever seen a fox in years to betray himself thus! now shall I be possest of all his counsels; and, by that conduit, my young master. Well, he is resolved to prove my honesty; faith, and I'm resolved to prove his patience: Oh, I shall abuse him intolerably. This small piece of service will bring him clean out of love with the soldier for ever. He will never come within the sign of it, the sight of a ca.s.sock, or a musket-rest again. He will hate the musters at Mile-end for it, to his dying day. It's no matter, let the world think me a bad counterfeit, if I cannot give him the slip at an instant: why, this is better than to have staid his journey: well, I'll follow him.

Oh, how I long to be employed!

[Exit.

ACT III

SCENE I.-The Old Jewry. A Room in the Windmill Tavern.

Enter Master MATHEW, WELLBRED, and BOBADILL.