Every Man in his Humour [35]
what's the matter? what stir is here? Whence springs this quarrel? Piso, where is he? Put up your weapons, and put off this rage. My wife and sister, they are cause of this. What, Piso? where is this knave?
PIS. Here, sir.
PROS. Come, let's go: this is one of my brother's ancient humours, this.
STEP. I am glad nobody was hurt by this ancient humour.
[EXIT PROSPERO, LORENZO JU., MUSCO, STEPHANO, BOBADILLA, MATHEO.
THO. Why, how now, brother, who enforced this brawl?
GIU. A sort of lewd rake-hells, that care neither for God nor the devil. And they must come here to read ballads and roguery, and trash. I'll mar the knot of them ere I sleep, perhaps; especially Signior Pithagoras, he that's all manner of shapes: and songs and sonnets, his fellow there.
HES. Brother, indeed you are too violent, Too sudden in your courses, and you know My brother Prospero's temper will not bear Any reproof, chiefly in such a presence, Where every slight disgrace he should receive, Would wound him in opinion and respect.
GIU. Respect? what talk you of respect 'mongst such As had neither spark of manhood nor good manners? By God I am ashamed to hear you: respect? [EXIT.
HES. Yes, there was one a civil gentleman, And very worthily demeaned himself.
THO. Oh, that was some love of yours, sister.
HES. A love of mine? i'faith, I would he were No other's love but mine.
BIA. Indeed, he seem'd to be a gentleman of an exceeding fair disposition, and of very excellent good parts. [EXIT HESPERIDA, BIANCHA.
THO. Her love, by Jesu: my wife's minion, Fair disposition? excellent good parts? 'Sheart, these phrases are intolerable, Good parts? how should she know his parts? well, well, It is too plain, too clear: Piso, come hither. What, are they gone?
PIS. Ay, sir, they went in.
THO. Are any of the gallants within?
PIS. No sir, they are all gone.
THO. Art thou sure of it?
PIS. Ay, sir, I can assure you.
THO. Piso, what gentleman was that they praised so?
PISO. One they call him Signior Lorenzo, a fair young gentleman, sir.
THO. Ay, I thought so: my mind gave me as much: 'Sblood, I'll be hang'd if they have not hid him in the house, Some where, I'll go search, Piso, go with me, Be true to me and thou shalt find me bountiful. [EXEUNT.
SCENE V. -- ENTER COB, TO HIM TIB.
COB. What, Tib, Tib, I say.
TIB. How now, what cuckold is that knocks so hard? Oh, husband, is't you? What's the news?
COB. Nay, you have stunn'd me, i'faith; you have given me a knock on the forehead will stick by me: cuckold? 'Swounds, cuckold?
TIB. Away, you fool, did I know it was you that knock'd? Come, come, you may call me as bad when you list.
COB. May I? 'swounds, Tib, you are a whore.
TIB. 'Sheart, you lie in your throat.
COB. How, the lie? and in my throat too? do you long to be stabb'd, ha?
TIB. Why, you are no soldier?
COB. Mass, that's true, when was Bobadilla here? that rogue, that slave, that fencing Burgullion? I'll tickle him, i'faith.
TIB. Why, what's the matter?
COB. Oh, he hath basted me rarely, sumptuously: but I have it here will sauce him, oh. the doctor, the honestest old Trojan in all Italy, I do honour the very flea of his dog: a plague on him, he put me once in a villainous filthy fear: marry, it vanish'd away like the smoke of tobacco: but I was smok'd soundly first, I think the devil, and his good angel my guest: well, wife, or Tib, (which you will) get you in, and lock the door, I charge you; let nobody into you, not Bobadilla himself, nor the devil in his likeness; you are a woman; you have flesh and blood enough in you; therefore be not tempted; keep the door shut upon all comers.
TIB. I warrant you there shall nobody enter here without my consent.
COB. Nor with your consent, sweet Tib, and so I leave you.
TIB. It's more than you know, whether you leave me so.
COB. How?
TIB. Why, sweet.
COB. Tut, sweet or sour, thou art a flower. Keep close thy door, I ask no more. [EXEUNT.
SCENE
PIS. Here, sir.
PROS. Come, let's go: this is one of my brother's ancient humours, this.
STEP. I am glad nobody was hurt by this ancient humour.
[EXIT PROSPERO, LORENZO JU., MUSCO, STEPHANO, BOBADILLA, MATHEO.
THO. Why, how now, brother, who enforced this brawl?
GIU. A sort of lewd rake-hells, that care neither for God nor the devil. And they must come here to read ballads and roguery, and trash. I'll mar the knot of them ere I sleep, perhaps; especially Signior Pithagoras, he that's all manner of shapes: and songs and sonnets, his fellow there.
HES. Brother, indeed you are too violent, Too sudden in your courses, and you know My brother Prospero's temper will not bear Any reproof, chiefly in such a presence, Where every slight disgrace he should receive, Would wound him in opinion and respect.
GIU. Respect? what talk you of respect 'mongst such As had neither spark of manhood nor good manners? By God I am ashamed to hear you: respect? [EXIT.
HES. Yes, there was one a civil gentleman, And very worthily demeaned himself.
THO. Oh, that was some love of yours, sister.
HES. A love of mine? i'faith, I would he were No other's love but mine.
BIA. Indeed, he seem'd to be a gentleman of an exceeding fair disposition, and of very excellent good parts. [EXIT HESPERIDA, BIANCHA.
THO. Her love, by Jesu: my wife's minion, Fair disposition? excellent good parts? 'Sheart, these phrases are intolerable, Good parts? how should she know his parts? well, well, It is too plain, too clear: Piso, come hither. What, are they gone?
PIS. Ay, sir, they went in.
THO. Are any of the gallants within?
PIS. No sir, they are all gone.
THO. Art thou sure of it?
PIS. Ay, sir, I can assure you.
THO. Piso, what gentleman was that they praised so?
PISO. One they call him Signior Lorenzo, a fair young gentleman, sir.
THO. Ay, I thought so: my mind gave me as much: 'Sblood, I'll be hang'd if they have not hid him in the house, Some where, I'll go search, Piso, go with me, Be true to me and thou shalt find me bountiful. [EXEUNT.
SCENE V. -- ENTER COB, TO HIM TIB.
COB. What, Tib, Tib, I say.
TIB. How now, what cuckold is that knocks so hard? Oh, husband, is't you? What's the news?
COB. Nay, you have stunn'd me, i'faith; you have given me a knock on the forehead will stick by me: cuckold? 'Swounds, cuckold?
TIB. Away, you fool, did I know it was you that knock'd? Come, come, you may call me as bad when you list.
COB. May I? 'swounds, Tib, you are a whore.
TIB. 'Sheart, you lie in your throat.
COB. How, the lie? and in my throat too? do you long to be stabb'd, ha?
TIB. Why, you are no soldier?
COB. Mass, that's true, when was Bobadilla here? that rogue, that slave, that fencing Burgullion? I'll tickle him, i'faith.
TIB. Why, what's the matter?
COB. Oh, he hath basted me rarely, sumptuously: but I have it here will sauce him, oh. the doctor, the honestest old Trojan in all Italy, I do honour the very flea of his dog: a plague on him, he put me once in a villainous filthy fear: marry, it vanish'd away like the smoke of tobacco: but I was smok'd soundly first, I think the devil, and his good angel my guest: well, wife, or Tib, (which you will) get you in, and lock the door, I charge you; let nobody into you, not Bobadilla himself, nor the devil in his likeness; you are a woman; you have flesh and blood enough in you; therefore be not tempted; keep the door shut upon all comers.
TIB. I warrant you there shall nobody enter here without my consent.
COB. Nor with your consent, sweet Tib, and so I leave you.
TIB. It's more than you know, whether you leave me so.
COB. How?
TIB. Why, sweet.
COB. Tut, sweet or sour, thou art a flower. Keep close thy door, I ask no more. [EXEUNT.
SCENE