Every Man in his Humour [27]
You are in the right: 'Sblood, he means to catechise me, I think.
MUS. No, sir, I leave that to the Curate, I am none of that coat.
LOR. JU. And yet of as bare a coat; well, say, sir.
MUS. Faith, Signior, I am but servant to God Mars extraordinary, and indeed (this brass varnish being washed off, and three or four other tricks sublated) I appear yours in reversion, after the decease of your good father, Musco.
LOR. JU. Musco, 'sblood, what wind hath blown thee hither in this shape?
MUS. Your easterly wind, sir, the same that blew your father hither.
LOR. JU. My father?
MUS. Nay, never start, it's true, he is come to town of purpose to seek you.
LOR. JU. Sirrah Prospero, what shall we do, sirrah? my father is come to the city.
PROS. Thy father: where is he?
MUS. At a gentleman's house yonder by St. Anthony's, where he but stays my return; and then --
PROS. Who's this? Musco?
MUS. The same, sir.
PROS. Why, how com'st thou transmuted thus?
MUS. Faith, a device, a device, nay, for the love of God, stand not here, gentlemen, house yourselves, and I'll tell you all.
LOR. JU. But are thou sure he will stay thy return?
MUS. Do I live, sir? what a question is that!
PROS. Well, we'll prorogue his expectation a little: Musco, thou shalt go with us: Come on, gentlemen: nay, I pray thee, (good rascal) droop not, 'sheart, an our wits be so gouty, that one old plodding brain can outstrip us all. Lord, I beseech thee, may they lie and starve in some miserable spittle, where they may never see the face of any true spirit again, but be perpetually haunted with some church-yard hobgoblin in seculo seculorum
MUS. Amen, Amen. [EXEUNT.
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ACT III
SCENE I. -- ENTER THORELLO, AND PISO.
PIS. He will expect you, sir, within this half hour.
THO. Why, what's a clock?
PIS. New stricken ten.
THO. Hath he the money ready, can you tell?
PIS. Yes, sir, Baptista brought it yesternight.
THO. Oh, that's well: fetch me my cloak. [EXIT PISO. Stay, let me see; an hour to go and come, Ay, that will be the least: and then 'twill be An hour before I can dispatch with him; Or very near: well, I will say two hours; Two hours? ha! things never dreamt of yet May be contrived, ay, and effected too, In two hours' absence: well, I will not go. Two hours; no, fleering opportunity, I will not give your treachery that scope. Who will not judge him worthy to be robb'd, That sets his doors wide open to a thief, And shews the felon where his treasure lies? Again, what earthy spirit but will attempt To taste the fruit of beauty's golden tree, When leaden sleep seals up the dragon's eyes? Oh, beauty is a project of some power, Chiefly when opportunity attends her: She will infuse true motion in a stone, Put glowing fire in an icy soul, Stuff peasants' bosoms with proud Caesar's spleen, Pour rich device into an empty brain: Bring youth to folly's gate: there train him in, And after all, extenuate his sin. Well, I will not go, I am resolved for that. Go, carry it again: yet stay: yet do too, I will defer it till some other time.
[ENTER PISO. PIS. Sir. Signior Platano will meet you there with the bond.
THO. That's true: by Jesu, I had clean forgot it. I must go, what's a clock?
PIS. Past ten, sir.
THO. 'Heart, then will Prospero presently be here too, With one or other of his loose consorts. I am a Jew if I know what to say, What course to take, or which way to resolve. My brain (methinks) is like an hour-glass, And my imaginations like the sands Run dribbling forth to fill the mouth of time, Still changed with turning in the ventricle. What were I best to do? it shall be so. Nay, I dare build upon his secrecy. Piso.
PIS. Sir.
THO. Yet now I have bethought me too, I will not. Is Cob within?
PIS. I think he be, sir.
THO. But he'll prate too, there's no talk of him. No, there were no course upon the earth to this, If I durst trust him; tut, I were secure, But there's the question
MUS. No, sir, I leave that to the Curate, I am none of that coat.
LOR. JU. And yet of as bare a coat; well, say, sir.
MUS. Faith, Signior, I am but servant to God Mars extraordinary, and indeed (this brass varnish being washed off, and three or four other tricks sublated) I appear yours in reversion, after the decease of your good father, Musco.
LOR. JU. Musco, 'sblood, what wind hath blown thee hither in this shape?
MUS. Your easterly wind, sir, the same that blew your father hither.
LOR. JU. My father?
MUS. Nay, never start, it's true, he is come to town of purpose to seek you.
LOR. JU. Sirrah Prospero, what shall we do, sirrah? my father is come to the city.
PROS. Thy father: where is he?
MUS. At a gentleman's house yonder by St. Anthony's, where he but stays my return; and then --
PROS. Who's this? Musco?
MUS. The same, sir.
PROS. Why, how com'st thou transmuted thus?
MUS. Faith, a device, a device, nay, for the love of God, stand not here, gentlemen, house yourselves, and I'll tell you all.
LOR. JU. But are thou sure he will stay thy return?
MUS. Do I live, sir? what a question is that!
PROS. Well, we'll prorogue his expectation a little: Musco, thou shalt go with us: Come on, gentlemen: nay, I pray thee, (good rascal) droop not, 'sheart, an our wits be so gouty, that one old plodding brain can outstrip us all. Lord, I beseech thee, may they lie and starve in some miserable spittle, where they may never see the face of any true spirit again, but be perpetually haunted with some church-yard hobgoblin in seculo seculorum
MUS. Amen, Amen. [EXEUNT.
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ACT III
SCENE I. -- ENTER THORELLO, AND PISO.
PIS. He will expect you, sir, within this half hour.
THO. Why, what's a clock?
PIS. New stricken ten.
THO. Hath he the money ready, can you tell?
PIS. Yes, sir, Baptista brought it yesternight.
THO. Oh, that's well: fetch me my cloak. [EXIT PISO. Stay, let me see; an hour to go and come, Ay, that will be the least: and then 'twill be An hour before I can dispatch with him; Or very near: well, I will say two hours; Two hours? ha! things never dreamt of yet May be contrived, ay, and effected too, In two hours' absence: well, I will not go. Two hours; no, fleering opportunity, I will not give your treachery that scope. Who will not judge him worthy to be robb'd, That sets his doors wide open to a thief, And shews the felon where his treasure lies? Again, what earthy spirit but will attempt To taste the fruit of beauty's golden tree, When leaden sleep seals up the dragon's eyes? Oh, beauty is a project of some power, Chiefly when opportunity attends her: She will infuse true motion in a stone, Put glowing fire in an icy soul, Stuff peasants' bosoms with proud Caesar's spleen, Pour rich device into an empty brain: Bring youth to folly's gate: there train him in, And after all, extenuate his sin. Well, I will not go, I am resolved for that. Go, carry it again: yet stay: yet do too, I will defer it till some other time.
[ENTER PISO. PIS. Sir. Signior Platano will meet you there with the bond.
THO. That's true: by Jesu, I had clean forgot it. I must go, what's a clock?
PIS. Past ten, sir.
THO. 'Heart, then will Prospero presently be here too, With one or other of his loose consorts. I am a Jew if I know what to say, What course to take, or which way to resolve. My brain (methinks) is like an hour-glass, And my imaginations like the sands Run dribbling forth to fill the mouth of time, Still changed with turning in the ventricle. What were I best to do? it shall be so. Nay, I dare build upon his secrecy. Piso.
PIS. Sir.
THO. Yet now I have bethought me too, I will not. Is Cob within?
PIS. I think he be, sir.
THO. But he'll prate too, there's no talk of him. No, there were no course upon the earth to this, If I durst trust him; tut, I were secure, But there's the question