Every Man out of His Humour Part 33

PUNT. I will make thee stoop, thou abject.

SOG. Make him stoop, sir! Gentlemen, pacify him, or he'll be kill'd.

MACI. Is he so tall a man?

SOG. Tall a man! if you love his life, stand betwixt them. Make him stoop!

PUNT. My dog, villain, or I will hang thee; thou hast confest robberies, and other felonious acts, to this gentleman, thy Countenance --

SOG. I'll bear no witness.

PUNT. And without my dog, I will hang thee, for them.

[s.h.i.+FT KNEELS.

SOG. What! kneel to thine enemies!

s.h.i.+FT. Pardon me, good sir; G.o.d is my witness, I never did robbery in all my life.

RE-ENTER FUNGOSO.

FUNG. O, sir Puntarvolo, your dog lies giving up the ghost in the wood-yard.

MACI. Heart, is he not dead yet!

[ASIDE.

PUNT. O, my dog, born to disastrous fortune! pray you conduct me, sir.

[EXIT WITH FUNGOSO.

SOG. How! did you never do any robbery in your life?

MACI. O, this is good! so he swore, sir.

SOG. Ay, I heard him: and did you swear true, sir?

s.h.i.+FT. Ay, as I hope to be forgiven, sir, I never robbed any man; I never stood by the highwayside, sir, but only said so, because I would get myself a name, and be counted a tall man.

SOG. Now out, base viliaco! thou my Resolution! I thy Countenance! By this light, gentlemen, he hath confest to me the most inexorable company of robberies, and d.a.m.n'd himself that he did 'em: you never heard the like.

Out, scoundrel, out! follow me no more, I command thee; out of my sight, go, hence, speak not; I will not hear thee: away, camouccio!

[EXIT s.h.i.+FT.

MACI. O, how I do feed upon this now, and fat myself! here were a couple unexpectedly dishumour'd. Well, by this time, I hope, sir Puntarvolo and his dog are both out of humour to travel. [ASIDE.] -- Nay, gentlemen, why do you not seek out the knight, and comfort him? our supper at the Mitre must of necessity hold to-night, if you love your reputations.

FAST. 'Fore G.o.d, I am so melancholy for his dog's disaster -- but I'll go.

SOG. Faith, and I may go too, but I know I shall be so melancholy.

MACI. Tush, melancholy! you must forget that now, and remember you lie at the mercy of a fury: Carlo will rack your sinews asunder, and rail you to dust, if you come not.

[EXEUNT.

MIT. O, then their fear of Carlo, belike, makes them hold their meeting.

COR. Ay, here he comes; conceive him but to be enter'd the Mitre, and 'tis enough.

SCENE IV. -- A ROOM AT THE MITRE.

ENTER CARLO.

CAR. Holla! where be these shot-sharks?

ENTER DRAWER.

DRAW. By and by; you are welcome, good master Buffone.

CAR. Where's George? call me George hither, quickly.

DRAW. What wine please you have, sir? I'll draw you that's neat, master Buffone.

CAR. Away, neophite, do as I bid thee, bring my dear George to me: -- ENTER GEORGE.

Ma.s.s, here he comes.

GEORGE. Welcome, master Carlo.

CAR. What, is supper ready, George?

GEORGE. Ay, sir, almost: Will you have the cloth laid, master Carlo?

CAR. O, what else? Are none of the gallants come yet?

GEORGE. None yet, sir.

CAR. Stay, take me with you, George; let me have a good fat loin of pork laid to the fire, presently.

GEORGE. It shall, sir.

CAR. And withal, hear you, draw me the biggest shaft you have out of the b.u.t.t you wot of; away, you know my meaning, George; quick!

GEORGE. Done, sir.

[EXIT.

CAR. I never hungered so much for anything in my life, as I do to know our gallants' success at court; now is that lean, bald-rib Macilente, that salt villain, plotting some mischievous device, and lies a soaking in their frothy humours like a dry crust, till he has drunk 'em all up: Could the pummice but hold up his eyes at other men's happiness, in any reasonable proportion, 'slid, the slave were to be loved next heaven, above honour, wealth, rich fare, apparel, wenches, all the delights of the belly and the groin, whatever.

RE-ENTER GEORGE WITH TWO JUGS OF WINE.

GEORGE. Here, master Carlo.

CAR. Is it right, boy?

GEORGE. Ay, sir, I a.s.sure you 'tis right.

CAR. Well said, my dear George, depart: [EXIT GEORGE.] -- Come, my small gimblet, you in the false scabbard, away, so! [PUTS FORTH THE DRAWER, AND SHUTS THE DOOR.] Now to you, sir Burgomaster, let's taste of your bounty.