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COB. Why do you laugh, sir? do you not mean Signior Bobadilla?
MAT. Cob, I pray thee advise thyself well: do not wrong the gentleman, and thyself too. I dare be sworn he scorns thy house; he! he lodge in such a base obscure place as thy house? Tut, I know his disposition so well, he would not lie in thy bed if thou'dst give it him.
COB. I will not give it him. Ma.s.s, I thought somewhat was in it, we could not get him to bed all night. Well sir, though he lie not on my bed, he lies on my bench, an't please you to go up, sir, you shall find him with two cus.h.i.+ons under his head, and his cloak wrapt about him, as though he had neither won nor lost, and yet I warrant he ne'er cast better in his life than he hath done to-night.
MAT. Why, was he drunk?
COB. Drunk, sir? you hear not me say so; perhaps he swallow'd a tavern token, or some such device, sir; I have nothing to do withal: I deal with water and not with wine. Give me my tankard there, ho! G.o.d be with you, sir; it's six o'clock: I should have carried two turns by this, what ho! my stopple, come.
MAT. Lie in a water-bearer's house, a gentleman of his note?
Well, I'll tell him my mind.
[EXIT.]
COB. What, Tib, shew this gentleman up to Signior Bobadilla: oh, an my house were the Brazen head now, faith it would e'en cry moe fools yet: you should have some now, would take him to be a gentleman at least; alas, G.o.d help the simple, his father's an honest man, a good fishmonger, and so forth: and now doth he creep and wriggle into acquaintance with all the brave gallants about the town, such as my guest is, (oh, my guest is a fine man!) and they flout him invincibly. He useth every day to a merchant's house, (where I serve water) one M. Th.o.r.ello's; and here's the jest, he is in love with my master's sister, and calls her mistress: and there he sits a whole afternoon sometimes, reading of these same abominable, vile, (a pox on them, I cannot abide them!) rascally verses, Poetry, poetry, and speaking of Interludes, 'twill make a man burst to hear him: and the wenches, they do so jeer and tihe at him; well, should they do as much to me, I'd forswear them all, by the life of Pharaoh, there's an oath: how many water-bearers shall you hear swear such an oath? oh, I have a guest, (he teacheth me) he doth swear the best of any man christened. By Phoebus, By the life of Pharaoh, By the body of me, As I am gentleman, and a soldier: such dainty oaths; and withal he doth take this same filthy roguish tobacco, the finest and cleanliest; it would do a man good to see the fume come forth at his nostrils: well, he owes me forty s.h.i.+llings, (my wife lent him out of her purse; by sixpence a time,) besides his lodging; I would I had it: I shall have it, he saith, next Action. Helter skelter, hang sorrow, care will kill a cat, up-tails all, and a pox on the hangman.
[EXIT.]
[BOBADILLA DISCOVERS HIMSELF; ON A BENCH; TO HIM TIB.]
BOB. Hostess, hostess.
TIB. What say you, sir?
BOB. A cup of your small beer, sweet hostess.
TIB. Sir, there's a gentleman below would speak with you.
BOB. A gentleman? (G.o.d's so) I am not within.
TIB. My husband told him you were, sir.
BOB. What a plague! what meant he?
MAT. Signior Bobadilla.
[MATHEO WITHIN.]
BOB. Who's there? (take away the bason, good hostess) come up, sir.
TIB. He would desire you to come up, sir; you come into a cleanly house here.
MAT. G.o.d save you, sir, G.o.d save you.
[ENTER MATHEO.]
BOB. Signior Matheo, is't you, sir? please you sit down.
MAT. I thank you, good Signior, you may see I am somewhat audacious.
BOB. Not so, Signior, I was requested to supper yesternight by a sort of gallants, where you were wished for, and drunk to, I a.s.sure you.
MAT. Vouchsafe me by whom, good Signior.
BOB. Marry, by Signior Prospero, and others; why, hostess, a stool here for this gentleman.
MAT. No haste, sir, it is very well.
BOB. Body of me, it was so late ere we parted last night, I can scarce open mine eyes yet; I was but new risen as you came; how pa.s.ses the day abroad, sir? you can tell.
MAT. Faith, some half hour to seven: now trust me, you have an exceeding fine lodging here, very neat, and private.
BOB. Ay, sir, sit down. I pray you, Signior Matheo, in any case possess no gentlemen of your acquaintance with notice of my lodging.
MAT. Who? I, sir? no.
BOB. Not that I need to care who know it, but in regard I would not be so popular and general as some be.
MAT. True, Signior, I conceive you.
BOB. For do you see, sir, by the heart of myself, (except it be to some peculiar and choice spirits, to whom I am extraordinarily engaged, as yourself, or so,) I could not extend thus far.
MAT. O Lord, sir! I resolve so.
BOB. What new book have you there? What? "Go by Hieronymo."
MAT. Ay, did you ever see it acted? is't not well penned?
BOB. Well penned: I would fain see all the Poets of our time pen such another play as that was; they'll prate and swagger, and keep a stir of art and devices, when (by G.o.d's so) they are the most shallow, pitiful fellows that live upon the face of the earth again.
MAT. Indeed, here are a number of fine speeches in this book: "Oh eyes, no eyes, but fountains fraught with tears;" there's a conceit: Fountains fraught with tears. "Oh life, no life, but lively form of death;" is't not excellent? "Oh world, no world, but ma.s.s of public wrongs;" O G.o.d's me: "confused and filled with murder and misdeeds." Is't not simply the best that ever you heard?
Ha, how do you like it?
BOB. 'Tis good.
MAT. "To thee, the purest object to my sense, The most refined essence heaven covers, Send I these lines, wherein I do commence The happy state of true deserving lovers.
If they prove rough, unpolish'd, harsh, and rude, Haste made that waste; thus mildly I conclude."
BOB. Nay, proceed, proceed, where's this? where's this?
MAT. This, sir, a toy of mine own in my non-age: but when will you come and see my study? good faith, I can shew you some very good things I have done of late: that boot becomes your leg pa.s.sing well, sir, methinks.
BOB. So, so, it's a fas.h.i.+on gentlemen use.
MAT. Ma.s.s, sir, and now you speak of the fas.h.i.+on, Signior Prospero's elder brother and I are fallen out exceedingly: this other day I happened to enter into some discourse of a hanger, which, I a.s.sure you, both for fas.h.i.+on and workmans.h.i.+p was most beautiful and gentlemanlike; yet he condemned it for the most pied and ridiculous that ever he saw.
BOB. Signior Giuliano, was it not? the elder brother?
MAT. Ay, sir, he.