The False One Part 7

_Sep._ The powdering of this head too--

_Sce._ If thou hast it, I'le tell thee all the Gumms in sweet _Arabia_ Are not sufficient, were they burnt about thee, To purge the scent of a rank Rascal from thee.

_Ant._ I smell him now: fie, how the Knave perfumes him, How strong he scents of Traitor!

_Dol._ You had an ill Millener, He laid too much of the Gum of Ingrat.i.tude Upon your Coat, you should have washt off that Sir, Fie, how it choaks! too little of your loyaltie, Your honesty, your faith, that are pure Ambers; I smell the rotten smell of a hired Coward, A dead Dog is sweeter.

_Sep._ Ye are merry Gentlemen, And by my troth, such harmless mirth takes me too, You speak like good blunt Souldiers; and 'tis well enough: But did you live at Court, as I do, Gallants, You would refine, and learn an apter language; I have done ye simple service on your _Pompey_, You might have lookt him yet this brace of twelve months And hunted after him, like foundred Beagles, Had not this fortunate hand--

_Ant._ He brags on't too: By the good G.o.ds, rejoyces in't; thou wretch Thou most contemptible Slave.

_Sce._ Dog, mangy Mongrel, Thou murdring mischief, in the shape of Souldier To make all Souldiers hatefull; thou disease That nothing but the Gallows can give ease to.--

_Dol._ Thou art so impudent, that I admire thee, And know not what to say.

_Sep._ I know your anger And why you prate thus: I have found your melancholy: Ye all want mony, and you are liberal Captains, And in this want will talk a little desperately: Here's gold, come share; I love a brave Commander: And be not peevish, do as _Caesar_ does: He's merry with his wench now, be you jovial, And let's all laugh and drink: would he have partners?

I do consider all your wants, and weigh 'em, He has the Mistris, you shall have the maids, I'le bring 'em to ye, to your arms.

_Ant._ I blush, All over me, I blush, and sweat to hear him: Upon my conscience, if my arms were on now Through them I should blush too: pray ye let's be walking.

_Sce._ Yes, yes: but e're we goe, I'le leave this lesson, And let him study it: first Rogue, then Pander, Next Devil that will be; get thee from mens presence, And where the name of Souldier has been heard of Be sure thou live not: to some hungry desert Where thou canst meet with nothing but thy conscience, And that in all the shapes of all thy vill[anie]s Attend thee still, where bruit Beasts will abhor thee, And even the Sun will shame to give thee light, Goe hide thy head: or if thou think'st it fitter Goe hang thy self.

_Dol._ Hark to that clause.

_Sce._ And that speedily, That nature may be eas'd of such a Monster. [_Exit._

_Sep._ Yet all this moves not me: nor reflects on me: I keep my gold still, and my confidence, Their want of breeding makes these fellows murmur, Rude valors, so I let 'em pa.s.s; rude honours: There is a wench yet, that I know, affects me And company for a King: a young plump villain, That when she sees this gold, she'l leap upon me.

_Enter_ Eros.

And here she comes: I am sure of her at midnight, My pretty _Eros_ welcom.

_Eros_. I have business.

_Sep._ Above my love, thou canst not.

_Eros_. Yes indeed Sir, Far, far above.

_Sep._ Why, why so coy? 'pray ye tell me We are alone.

_Eros_. I am much asham'd we are so.

_Sep._ You want a new Gown now, & a handsom Petticoat, A Skarf, and some odd toyes: I have gold here ready, Thou shal[t] have any thing.

_Eros_. I want your absence: Keep on your way, I care not for your company.

_Sep._ How? how? you are very short: do you know me _Eros_?

And what I have been to ye?

_Eros_. Yes I know ye: And I hope I shall forget ye: Whilst you were honest I lov'd ye too.

_Sep._ Honest? come prethee kiss me.

_Eros_. I kiss no knaves, no Murderers, no Beasts, No base betrayers of those men that fed 'em, I hate their looks; and though I may be wanton, I scorn to nourish it with b.l.o.o.d.y purchase, Purchase so foully got; I pray ye unhand me I had rather touch the plague, than one unworthy: Goe seek some Mistris that a horse may marry, And keep her company, she is too good for ye. [_Exit._

_Sep._ Marry this goes near; now I perceive I am hatefull, When this light stuff can distinguish, it grows dangerous, For mony, seldom they refuse a Leper: But sure I am more odious, more diseas'd too:

_Enter three lame_ Souldiers.

It sits cold here; what are these? three poor Souldiers?

Both poor and lame: their misery may make 'em A little look upon me, and adore me, If these will keep me company, I am made yet.

_1 Sol._ The pleasure _Caesar_ sleeps in, makes us miserable, We are forgot, our maims and dangers laugh'd at; He Banquets, and we beg.

_2 Sol._ He was not wont To let poor Souldiers that have spent their Fortunes, Their Bloods, and limbs, walk up and down like vagabonds.

_Sep._ Save ye good Souldiers: good poor men, heaven help ye: You have born the brunt of war, and shew the story,

_1 Sol._ Some new commander sure.

_Sep._ You look (my good friends) By your thin faces, as you would be Suitors.

_2 Sol._ To _Caesar_, for our means, Sir.

_Sep._ And 'tis fit Sir.

_3 Sol._ We are poor men, and long forgot.

_Sep._ I grieve for it: Good Souldiers should have good rewards, and favours, I'le give up your pet.i.tions, for I pity ye, And freely speak to _Caesar_.

_All_. O we honour ye.

_1 Sol._ A good man sure ye are: the G.o.ds preserve ye.

_Sep._ And to relieve your wants the while, hold Soldiers, Nay 'tis no dream: 'tis good gold: take it freely, 'Twill keep ye in good heart.

_2 Sol._ Now goodness quit ye.

_Sep._ I'le be a friend to your afflictions, And eat, and drink with ye too, and we'l be merry: And every day I'le see ye.

_1 Sol._ You are a Souldier, And one sent from the G.o.ds, I think.

_Sep._ I'le cloth ye, Ye are lame, and then provide good lodging for ye: And at my Table, where no want shall meet ye.

_Enter_ Sceva.

_All_. Was never such a man.