Part 24
SWEET. Were it of greater moment than you speak of, noble sir, I hope you think me sufficient, and it shall be effectually performed. FRANK. JUN. I could wish your wife did not know it, coz; women’s tongues are not always tuneable; I may many ways requite it. SWEET. Believe me, she shall not, sir; which will be the hardest thing of all. FRANK. JUN. Pray you, despatch him then. SWEET. With the celerity a man tells gold to him. FRANK. JUN. He hits a good comparison. [_Aside._]—Give my waste-good your stuffs, and go with my cousin, sir; he’ll presently despatch you. RAL. Yes, sir. [_Gives stuffs to_ G. CRESSINGHAM. SWEET. Come with me, youth, I am ready for you in my more private chamber. [_Exeunt._ SWEETBALL _and_ RALPH. FRANK. JUN. Sirrah, go you shew your lady the stuffs, and let her choose her colour; away, you know whither.— Boy, prithee, lend me a brush i' the meantime.—Do you tarry all day now? G. CRES. That I will, sir, and all night too, ere I come again. [_Exit with the stuffs._ BOY. Here’s a brush, sir. [_Gives brush._ FRANK. JUN. A good child. SWEET. [_within_] What, Toby! BOY. Anon, sir. SWEET. [_within_] Why, when,[912] goodman picklock? BOY. I must attend my master, sir.—I come. FRANK. JUN. Do, pretty lad. [_Exit Boy._]—So, take water at Cole-Harbour:[913] An easy mercer, and an innocent[914] barber! [_Exit with the brush._
SCENE IV.
_Another room in_ SWEETBALL’S _house_.
_Enter_ SWEETBALL, RALPH, _and Boy_.
SWEET. So, friend; I'll now despatch you presently.— Boy, reach me my dismembering instrument, and let my cauterizer[915] be ready; and, hark you, snip-snap—— BOY. Ay, sir. SWEET. See if my _luxinium_,[916] my fomentation, be provided first; and get my rollers, bolsters,[917] and pledgets armed. [_Exit Boy._ RAL. Nay, good sir, despatch my business first; I should not stay from my shop. SWEET. You must have a little patience, sir, when you are a patient: if _præputium_ be not too much perished, you shall lose but little by it, believe my art for that. RAL. What’s that, sir? SWEET. Marry, if there be exulceration between _præputium_ and _glans_, by my faith, the whole _penis_ may be endangered as far as _os pubis_. RAL. What’s this you talk on, sir? SWEET. If they be gangrened once, _testiculi_, _vesica_, and all may run to mortification. RAL. What a pox does this barber talk on? SWEET. O fie, youth! _pox_ is no word of art; _morbus Gallicus_, or _Neapolitanus_, had been well: come, friend, you must not be nice; open your griefs freely to me. RAL. Why, sir, I open my grief to you, I want my money. SWEET. Take you no care for that; your worthy cousin has given me part in hand, and the rest I know he will upon your recovery, and I dare take his word. RAL. ’Sdeath, where’s my ware? SWEET. Ware! that was well; the word is cleanly, though not artful; your ware it is that I must see. RAL. My tabine[918] and cloth-of-tissue! SWEET. You will neither have tissue nor issue, if you linger in your malady; better a member cut off than endanger the whole microcosm. RAL. Barber, you are not mad? SWEET. I do begin to fear you are subject to _subeth_,[919] unkindly sleeps, which have bred oppilations in your brain; take heed, the _symptoma_ will follow, and this may come to frenzy: begin with the first cause, which is the pain of your member. RAL. Do you see my yard, barber? [_Holding up yard-measure._ SWEET. Now you come to the purpose; ’tis that I must see indeed. RAL. You shall feel it, sir: death, give me my fifty pounds or my ware again, or I'll measure out your anatomy by the yard! SWEET. Boy, my cauterizing iron red hot!
_Re-enter Boy with the iron._
BOY. ’Tis here, sir. SWEET. If you go further, I take my dismembering knife. RAL. Where’s the knight, your cousin? the thief and the tailor, with my cloth-of-gold and tissue? BOY. The gentleman that sent away his man with the stuffs is gone a pretty while since; he has carried away our new brush. SWEET. O that brush hurts my heart’s side! Cheated, cheated! he told me that your _virga_ had a burning fever. RAL. Pox on your _virga_, barber! SWEET. And that you would be bashful, and ashamed to shew your head. RAL. I shall so hereafter; but here it is, you see, yet, my head, my hair, and my wit; and here are my heels that I must shew to my master, if the cheaters be not found: and, barber, provide thee plasters, I will break thy head with every basin under the pole. [_Exit._ SWEET. Cool the _luxinium_,[920] and quench the cauterizer; I'm partly out of my wits, and partly mad; My razor’s at my heart: these storms will make My sweet-balls stink, my harmless basins shake. [_Exeunt._
ACT III. SCENE I.
_An apartment in_ LORD BEAUFORT’S _house_.
_Enter_ MISTRESS GEORGE CRESSINGHAM _disguised as a page, and_ MISTRESS KNAVESBY.
MIS. G. CRES. You’re welcome, mistress, as I may speak it, But my lord will give’t a sweeter emphasis; I'll give him knowledge of you. [_Going._ MIS. KNA. Good sir, stay, Methinks it sounds sweetest upon your tongue; I'll wish you to go no further for my welcome. MIS. G. CRES. Mine! it seems you never heard good music, That commend a bagpipe: hear his harmony! MIS. KNA. Nay, good now, let me borrow of your patience, I'll pay you again before I rise to-morrow: If it please you[921]—— MIS. G. CRES. What would you, forsooth? MIS. KNA. Your company, sir. MIS. G. CRES. My attendance you should have, mistress, but that my lord expects it, and ’tis his due. MIS. KNA. And must be paid upon the hour? that’s too strict; any time of the day will serve. MIS. G. CRES. Alas, ’tis due every minute! and paid, ’tis due again, or else I forfeit my recognisance, the cloth I wear of his. MIS. KNA. Come, come; pay it double at another time, and ’twill be quitted; I have a little use of you. MIS. G. CRES. Of me, forsooth? small use can be made of me: if you have suit to my lord, none can speak better for you than you may yourself. MIS. KNA. O, but I am bashful. MIS. G. CRES. So am I, in troth, mistress. MIS. KNA. Now I remember me, I have a toy to deliver your lord that’s yet unfinished, and you may further me: pray you, your hands, while I unwind this skein of gold from you; ’twill not detain you long. [_Putting skein on_ MIS. G. CRESSINGHAM’S _hands_. MIS. G. CRES. You wind me into your service prettily: with all the haste you can, I beseech you. MIS. KNA. If it tangle not, I shall soon have done. MIS. G. CRES. No, it shall not tangle, if I can help it, forsooth. MIS. KNA. If it do, I can help it; fear not: this thing of long length you shall see I can bring you to a bottom. MIS. G. CRES. I think so too; if it be not bottomless, this length will reach it. MIS. KNA. It becomes you finely; but I forewarn you, and remember it, your enemy gain not this advantage of you; you are his prisoner then; for, look you, you are mine now, my captive manacled, I have your hands in bondage.[922] MIS. G. CRES. ’Tis a good lesson, mistress, and I am perfect in it; another time I'll take out this, and learn another: pray you, release me now. MIS. KNA. I could kiss you now, spite of your teeth, if it please me. MIS. G. CRES. But you could not, for I could bite you with the spite of my teeth, if it pleases me. MIS. KNA. Well, I'll not tempt you so far, I shew it but for rudiment. MIS. G. CRES. When I go a-wooing, I'll think on’t again. MIS. KNA. In such an hour I learnt it: say I should, In recompence of your hands' courtesy, Make you a fine wrist-favour of this gold, With all the letters of your name emboss’d On a soft tress of hair, which I shall cut From mine own fillet, whose ends should meet and close In a fast true-love knot, would you wear it For my sake, sir? MIS. G. CRES. I think not, truly, mistress; My wrists have enough of this gold already; Would they were rid on’t yet! pray you, have done; In troth, I'm weary. MIS. KNA. And what a virtue Is here express’d in you, which had lain hid But for this trial: weary of gold, sir? O that the close engrossers of this treasure Could be so free to put it off of hand! What a new-mended world would here be! It shews a generous condition[923] in you; In sooth, I think I shall love you dearly for’t. MIS. G. CRES. But if they were in prison, as I am, They would be glad to buy their freedom with it. MIS. KNA. Surely no; there are that, rather than release This dear companion, do lie in prison With it, yes, and will die in prison too. MIS. G. CRES. ’Twere pity but the hangman did enfranchise both.
_Enter_ LORD BEAUFORT.
L. BEAU. Selenger, where are you? MIS. G. CRES. E'en here, my lord.—Mistress, pray you, my liberty; you hinder my duty to my lord. L. BEAU. [_taking off his hat_] Nay, sir, one courtesy shall serve us both At this time; you are busy, I perceive; When next your leisure[924] serves you, I'd employ you. MIS. G. CRES. You must pardon me, my lord; you see I am entangled here.—Mistress, I protest I'll break prison, if you free me not: take you no notice? MIS. KNA. O, cry your honour mercy!—You are now at liberty, sir. [_Releasing her hands._ MIS. G. CRES. And I'm glad on’t; I'll ne’er give both my hands at once again to a woman’s command; I'll put one finger in a hole rather. L. BEAU. Leave us. MIS. G. CRES. Free leave have you, my lord, so I think you may have.—Filthy beauty, what a white witch thou art! [_Exit._ L. BEAU. Lady, you’re welcome. MIS. KNA. I did believe[925] it from your page, my lord. L. BEAU. Your husband sent you to me? MIS. KNA. He did, my lord; With duty and commends unto your honour, Beseeching you to use me very kindly, By the same token your lordship gave him grant Of a new lease of threescore pounds a-year, Which he and his should forty years enjoy. L. BEAU. The token’s true; and for your sake, lady, ’Tis likely to be better’d; not alone the lease, But the fee-simple may be his and yours. MIS. KNA. I have a suit unto your lordship too, Only myself concerns. L. BEAU. ’Twill be granted, sure, Though it outvalue thy husband’s. MIS. KNA. Nay, ’tis small charge; Only your good will and good word, my lord. L. BEAU. The first is thine confirm’d; the second, then, Cannot stay long behind. MIS. KNA. I love your page, sir. L. BEAU. Love him! for what? MIS. KNA. O the great wisdoms that Our grandsires had! do you ask me reason for’t? I love him ’cause I like him, sir. L. BEAU. My page! MIS. KNA. In mine eye he is a most delicate youth, But in my heart a thing that it would bleed for. L. BEAU. Either your eye’s blinded or your remembrance broken; Call to mind wherefore you came hither, lady. MIS. KNA. I do, my lord; for love; and I'm in profoundly. L. BEAU. You trifle, sure; do you long for unripe fruit? 'Twill breed diseases in you. MIS. KNA. Nothing but worms In my belly, and there’s a seed to expel them; In mellow, falling fruit I find no relish. L. BEAU. ’Tis true the youngest vines yield[926] the most clusters, But the old ever the sweetest grapes. MIS. KNA. I can taste of both, sir; But with the old I am the soonest cloy’d, The green keep still an edge on appetite. L. BEAU. Sure you’re a common creature. MIS. KNA. Did you doubt it? Wherefore came I hither else? did you think That honesty only had been immur’d for you, And I should bring it as an offertory Unto your shrine of lust? As ’twas, my lord, ’Twas meant to you, had not the slippery wheel Of fancy[927] turn’d when I beheld your page; Nay, had I seen another before him In mine eyes better grace, he had been forestall’d; But as it is—all my strength cannot help— Beseech you, your good will and good word, my lord; You may command him, sir; if not affection, Yet his body; and I desire but that: Do it, and I'll command myself your prostitute. L. BEAU. You’re a base strumpet! I succeed my page! MIS. KNA. O, that’s no wonder, my lord; the servant oft Tastes to his master of the daintiest dish He brings to him: beseech you, my lord—— L. BEAU. You’re a bold mischief; and to make me your spokesman, Your procurer to my servant! MIS. KNA. Do you shrink at that? Why, you’ve done worse without the sense of ill, With a full, free conscience of a libertine: Judge your own sin; Was it not worse, with a damn’d broking-fee To corrupt a[928] husband, ’state him a pander To his own wife, by virtue of a lease Made to him and your bastard issue, could you get ’em? What a degree of baseness call you this? ’Tis a poor sheep-steal[er] provok’d by want Compar’d unto a capital traitor: the master To his servant may be recompens’d, but the husband To his wife never. L. BEAU. Your husband shall smart for this. [_Exit._ MIS. KNA. Hang him, do! you have brought him to deserve it; Bring him to the punishment, there I'll join with you; I loathe him to the gallows! hang your page too; One mourning-gown shall serve for both of them. This trick hath kept mine honesty secure; Best soldiers use policy: the lion’s skin Becomes the body not[929] when ’tis too great, But then the fox’s may sit close and neat. [_Exit._
SCENE II.
_A Street._
_Enter_ SWEETBALL, FLESH-HOOK, _and_ COUNTERBUFF.
SWEET. Now, Flesh-hook, use thy talon, set upon his right shoulder; thy sergeant, Counterbuff, at the left; grasp in his jugulars; and then let me alone to tickle his _diaphragma_. FLESH. You are sure he has no protection, sir? SWEET. A protection to cheat and cozen! there was never any granted to that purpose. FLESH. I grant you that too, sir; but that use has been made of ’em. COUN. Marry has there, sir; how could else so many broken bankrupts play up and down by their creditors' noses, and we dare not touch ’em? SWEET. That’s another case, Counterbuff; there’s privilege to cozen, but here cozenage went before, and there’s no privilege for that: to him boldly, I will spend all the scissors in my shop, but I'll have him snapt. COUN. Well, sir, if he come within the length of large mace once, we’ll teach him to cozen. SWEET. Marry, hang him! teach him no more cozenage, he’s too perfect in’t already; go gingerly about it; lay your mace on gingerly, and spice him soundly. COUN. He’s at the tavern, you say? SWEET. At the Man in the Moon, above stairs; so soon as he comes down, and the bush[930] left at his back, Ralph is the dog behind him; he watches to give us notice: be ready then, my dear bloodhounds; you shall deliver him to Newgate, from thence to the hangman: his body I will beg of the sheriffs, for at the next lecture I am likely to be the master of my anatomy; then will I vex every vein about him; I will find where his disease of cozenage lay, whether in the _vertebræ_ or in _os coxendix_;[931] but I guess I shall find it descend from _humore_, through the _thorax_, and lie just at his fingers'-ends.
_Enter_ RALPH. RAL. Be in readiness, for he’s coming this way, alone too; stand to’t like gentlemen and yeomen: so soon as he is in sight, I'll go fetch my master. SWEET. I have had a conquassation in my _cerebrum_ ever since the disaster, and now it takes me again; if it turn to a megrim, I shall hardly abide the sight of him. RAL. My action of defamation shall be clapt on him too; I will make him appear to’t in the shape of a white sheet, all embroidered over with _peccavis_: look about, I'll go fetch my master. [_Exit._
_Enter_ FRANKLIN _junior_.
COUN. I arrest you, sir. FRANK. JUN. _Ha! qui va là? que pensez-vous faire, messieurs? me voulez-vous dérober? je n’ai point d’argent; je suis un pauvre gentilhomme François._ SWEET. Whoop! pray you, sir, speak English; you did when you bought cloth-of-gold at six _nihils_ a-yard, when Ralph’s _præputium_ was exulcerated. FRANK. JUN. _Que voulez-vous? me voulez-vous tuer? les François ne sont point ennemis: voilà ma bourse; que voulez-vous d’avantage?_ COUN. Is not your name Franklin, sir? FRANK. JUN. _Je n’ai point de joyaux que cestui-ci, et c’est à monsieur l’ambassadeur; il m’envoie à ses affaires, et vous empêchez mon service._ COUN. Sir, we are mistaken, for ought I perceive.
_Enter_ WATER-CAMLET _with_ RALPH, _hastily_.
W.-CAM. So, so; you have caught him, that’s well.—How do you, sir? FRANK. JUN. _Vous semblez être un homme courtois, je vous prie entendez mes affaires; il y a ici deux ou trois canailles qui m’ont assiégé, un pauvre étranger, qui ne leur ai fait nul mal; ni donné mauvaise parole, ni tiré mon épée; l’un me prend par une épaule, et me frappe deux livres pesant; l’autre me tire par le bras, il parle je ne sais quoi: je leur ai donné ma bourse, et s’ils ne me veulent point laisser aller, que ferai-je, monsieur?_ W.-CAM.. This is a Frenchman, it seems, sirs. COUN. We can find no other in him, sir; and what that is we know not. W.-CAM.. He’s very like the man we seek for, else my lights go false. SWEET. In your shop[932] they may, sir, but here they go true; this is he. RAL. The very same, sir; as sure as I am Ralph, this is the rascal. COUN. Sir, unless you will absolutely challenge him the man, we dare not proceed further. FLESH. I fear we are too far already. W.-CAM.. I know not what to say to’t.
_Enter_ MARGARITA.
MAR. _Bon jour, bon jour, gentilhommes._ SWEET. How now? more news from France? FRANK. JUN. _Cette femme ici est de mon pays.—Madame, je vous prie leur dire mon pays; ils m’ont retargé,[933] je ne sais pourquoi._ MAR. _Etes-vous de France, monsieur?_ FRANK. JUN. _Madame, vrai est, que je les ai trompés, et suis arrêté, et n’ai nul moyen d'échapper qu’en changeant mon langage: aidez-moi en cette affaire; je vous connois bien, où vous tenez un bordeau; vous et les votres en serez de mieux._ MAR. _Laissez faire à moi. Etes-vous de Lyons, dites-vous?_ FRANK. JUN. _De Lyon, ma chère dame._ MAR. _Mon cousin! je suis bien aise de vous voir en bonne disposition._ [_Re-enter_ FRANK. JUN. _Ma cousine!_ W.-CAM.. This is a Frenchman sure. SWEET. If he be, ’tis the likest an Englishman that ever I saw, all his dimensions, proportions; had I but the dissecting of his heart, in _capsula cordis_ could I find it now; for a Frenchman’s heart is more quassative and subject to tremor than an Englishman’s. W.-CAM.. Stay, we’ll further inquire of this gentlewoman.—Mistress, if you have so much English to help us with—as I think you have, for I have long seen you about London—pray, tell us, and truly tell us, is this gentleman a natural Frenchman or no? MAR. Ey, begar, de Frenchman, born _à Lyons_, my cozin. W.-CAM.. Your cousin? if he be not your cousin, he’s my cousin, sure. MAR. Ey connosh his _père_, what you call his fadre; he sell _poissons_. SWEET. Sell poisons? his father was a ’pothecary then. MAR. No, no, _poissons_,—what you call fish, fish. SWEET. O, he was a fishmonger. MAR. _Oui, oui._ W.-CAM.. Well, well, we are mistaken, I see; pray you, so tell him, and request him not to be offended; an honest man may look like a knave, and be ne’er the worse for’t: the error was in our eyes, and now we find it in his tongue. MAR. _J'essayerai encore une fois, monsieur cousin, pour votre sauveté; allez-vous en; votre liberté est suffisante: je gagnerai le reste pour mon devoir, et vous aurez votre part à mon école; j’ai une fille qui parle un peu François; elle conversera avec vous à la Fleur-de-Lis en Turnbull Street.[934] Mon cousin, ayez soin de vous-même, et trompez ces ignorans._ FRANK. JUN. _Cousin, pour l’amour de vous, et principalement pour moi, je suis content de m’en aller: je trouverai votre école; et si vos écoliers me sont agréables, je tirerai à l'épée seule; et si d’aventure je la rompe, je payerai dix sous; et pour ce vieux fol, et ces deux canailles, ce poulain snip-snap, et l’autre bonnet rond, je les verrai pendre premier que je les vois._ [_Exit._ W.-CAM.. So, so, she has got him off, but I perceive much anger in his countenance still.—And what says he, madam? MAR. Moosh, moosh anger; but ey connosh heer lodging shall cool him very well; dere is a kinswomans can moosh allay heer heat and heer spleen; she shall do for my saka, and he no trobla you. W.-CAM.. [_giving money_] Look, there is earnest, but thy reward’s behind; come to my shop, the Holy Lamb in Lombard Street: thou hast one friend more than e’er thou hadst. MAR. Tank u, monsieur, shall visit u; ey make all pacifie: _à votre service très humblement_,—tree, four, five fool of u. [_Aside, and exit._ W.-CAM.. What’s to be done now? COUN. To pay us for our pains, sir; and better reward us, that we may be provided against further danger that may come upon ’s for false imprisonment. W.-CAM.. All goes false, I think. What do you, neighbour Sweetball? SWEET. I must phlebotomise, sir, but my almanac says the sign is in Taurus; I dare not cut my own throat; but if I find any precedent that ever barber hanged himself, I'll be the second example. RAL. This was your ill _luxinium_,[935] barber, to cause all to be cheated. COUN. What say you to us, sir? W.-CAM.. Good friends, come to me at a calmer hour, My sorrows lie in heaps upon me now: What you have, keep; if further trouble follow, I'll take it on me: I would be press’d to death. COUN. Well, sir, for this time we’ll leave you. SWEET. I will go with you, officers; I will walk with you in the open street, though it be a scandal to me; for now I have no care of my credit, a cacokenny[936] is run all over me. [_Exeunt._ SWEETBALL, FLESH-HOOK, _and_ COUNTERBUFF. W.-CAM.. What shall we do now, Ralph? RAL. Faith, I know not, sir: here comes George, it may be he can tell you. W.-CAM.. And there I look for more disaster still; Yet George appears in a smiling countenance.
_Enter_ GEORGE.