NOw trust me, here's a goodly day toward. Musco, call vp my sonne Lorenzo: bid him rise: tell him, I haue some businesse to imploy him in.

I, I know that sir, I would not haue come else: how doeth my cousin, vncle?

Oh well, well, goe in and see; I doubt hee's scarce stirring yet.

Vncle, afore I goe in, can you tell me, and he haue • 're a booke of the sciences of hawking and hun • ing? I would fayne borrow it.

No wusse; but ile practise against next yeare: I haue bought me a hawke, and bels and all; I lacke nothing but a booke to keepe it by.

Nay looke you now, you are angrie vncle, why you know, and a man haue not skill in hawking and hunting now a daies, ile not giue a rush for him; hee is for no gentlemans company, and (by Gods will) I scorne it I, so I doe, to bee a consort for euerie hum-drum; hang them scroiles, ther's nothing in them in the world, what doe you talke on it? a gentleman must shew himselfe like a gentleman, vncle I pray you be not angrie, I know what I haue to do I trow, I am no nouice.

Welcome good friend, we doe not stand much vpon our gentilitie; yet I can assure you mine vncle is a man of a thousand pounde land a yeare; hee hath but one sonne in the world; I am his next heire, as simple as I stand here, if my cosen die: I haue a faire liuing of mine owne too beside.

And you should, here be them can perceiue it, and that quickly too: Go too, and they can giue it againe soundly, and need be.

Why sir let this satisfie you. Good faith I had no such intent.

By God, and I thought you had sir, I would talke with you.

And so I would sir, and you were out of mine vncle • ground, I can tell you.

Horson base fellow, by Gods lid, and't were not for shame, I would.

I crye you mercy, sir, I was requested by a gentleman of Florence (hauing some occasion to ride this way) to deliuer you this letter.

To me, sir? What doe you mean • ? I pray you remember your curt'sy.

To his deare and most elected friend, Signior Lorenzo di Pazzi. What might the gentlemans name be, sir, that sent it? Nay, pray you be couer'd.

Signior Prospero? A young gentleman of the family of Strozzi, is he not?

I, sir, the same: Signior Thorello, the rich Florentine merchant married his sister.

Sirha Lorenzo, I muse we cannot see thee at Florence: S'blood, I doubt, Apollo hath got thee to be his Ingle, that thou commest not abroad, to v • s • t thine old friends: well, take heede of him; hee may doe somewhat for his houshold seruants, or so; But for his Retayners, I am sure, I haue knowne some of them, that haue followed him, three, foure, fiue yeere together, scorning the world with their bare heeles, & at length bene g • ad for a shift, (though no cleane shift) to lye a whole winter, in halfe a sheete, cursing Charles wayne, and the rest • f the starres intolerably. But (quis contra diuos?) well; Sirha, sweete villayne, come and see me; but spend one minute in my compa • y, and 'tis inough: I thinke I haue a world of good le • ts for thee▪ oh sirha, I can shew thee two of the most perfect, rare, & absolute true Gulls, that euer thou saw'st, if thou wil • come. S'blood, inuent some famous •• morable lye, or other, to flap thy father in the mouth withall: thou hast bene father of a thousand, in thy dayes, 〈◊〉 could'st be no Poet else: any sciruy roguish excuse will serue; say thou com • st but to fetch wooll for thine Inke-borne. And then too, thy Father will say thy wits are a wooll-gathering. But it's no matter; the worse, the better. Any thing is good inough for the old man. Sirha, how 〈◊〉 thy Father should see this now? what would he think • of me? Well, (howeuer I write to thee) • reuerence him in my soule, for the generall good all Florence deliuers of him. Lorenzo, I coniure thee (by what, let me see) by the depth of our loue, by all the strange sights we haue seene in our dayes, (I or nights eyther) to come to me to Florence this day. Go to, you shall come, and let your Muses goe spinne for once. If thou wilt not, s'hart, what's your gods name? Apollo? I; Apollo If this melancholy rogue (Lorenzo here) doe not come, graunt, that he doe turne Foole presently, and neuer hereafter, be able to make a good Iest, or a blanke verse, but liue in more penurie of wit and Inuention, then eyther the Hall-Beadle, or Poet Nuntius.

Then Musco take this letter, and deliuer it vnto Lorenzo: but sirra, (on your life) take you no knowledge I haue open'd it.

Yes sir, (on my word) he opend it, & read the contents▪

It scarse contents me that he did so. But Musco didst thou obserue his countenance in the reading of it, whether hee were angrie or pleasde?

Marry sir because he charg'd mee (on my life) to tell no body that he opend it, which (vnlesse he had done) he wold neuer feare to haue it reueald.

Oh Musco, didst thou not see a fellow here in a whatsha-callum doublet; he brought mine vncle a letter euen now?

Horson Scanderbag rogue, oh that I had a horse; by Gods lidde i'de fetch him backe againe, with heaue and ho.

Why you may haue my masters bay gelding, and you will.

I by my troth; Musco, I pray thee help to trusse me a li • tle; nothing angers mee, but I haue waited such a while for him all vnlac'd and vntrust yonder, and now to see hee is gone the other way.

Nay to see, he stood vpon poynts with me too.

Like inough so; that was, because he saw you had so fewe at your hose.

What? Hast thou done? God a mercy, good Musco.

I marle, sir, you weare such ill-fauourd course stockings, hauing so good a legge as you haue.

Fo, the stockings be good inough for this time of the yeere; but Ile haue a payre of silke, e're it be long: I thinke, my legge would shewe well in a silke hose.

I afore God would it rarely well.

In sadnesse I thinke it would: I haue a reasonable good legge.

You haue an excellent good legge, sir: I pray you pardon me, I haue a little haste in, sir.

Here is a style indeed, for a mans sences to leape ouer, e're they come at it: why, it is able to breake the shinnes of any old mans patience in the world. My father reade this with patience? Then will I be made an Eunuch, and learne to sing Ballads. I doe not deny, but my father may haue as much patience as any other man; for hee vses to take phisicke, and oft taking phisicke, makes a man a very patient creature. But, Signior Prospero, had your swaggering Epistle here, arriued in my fathers hands, at such an houre of his patience, (I meane, when hee had tane phisicke) it is to bee doubted, whether I should haue read sweete villaynt here. But, what? My wise cousin; Nay then, Ile furnish our feast with one Gull more toward a messe; hee writes to mee of two, and here's one, that's three, Ifayth. Oh for a fourth: now, Fortune, or neuer Fortune.

Oh, now I see who he laught at: hee laught at some body in that letter. By this good light, and he had laught at me, I would haue told mine vncle.

Cousin Stephano: good morrow, good cousin, how fare you?

The better for your asking, I will assure you. I haue beene all about to seeke you; since I came I saw mine vncle; & ifaith how haue you done this great while? Good Lord, by my troth I am glad you are well cousin.

And I am as glad of your comming, I protest to you, for I am sent for by a priuate gentleman, my most speciall deare friend, to come to him to Florence this morning, and you shall go with me cousin, if it please you, not els, I will enioyne you no further then stands with your owne consent, and the condition of a friend.

Why cousin you shall command me and't were twise so farre as Florence to do you good; what doe you thinke I will not go with you? I protest.

Nay, nay, you shall not protest.

By God, but I will sir, by your leaue ile protest more to my friend then ile speake of at this time.

You speake very well sir.

Nay not so neither, but I speake to serue my turne.

Your turne? why cousin, a gentleman of so faire sort as you are, of so true cariage, so speciall good parts; of so deare and choice estimation; one whose lowest condition beares the stampe of a great spirit; nay more, a man so grac'd, guilded, or rather (to vse a more fit Metaph • r) tinfoyld by nature, (not that you haue a leaden constitution, couze, although perhaps a little inclining to that temper, & so the more apt to melt with pittie, when you fall into the fire of rage) but for your lustre onely, which reflects as bright to the world as an old Ale-wiues pewter againe a good time; and will you now (with nice modestie) hide such reall ornaments as these, and shadow their glorie as a Millaners wife doth her wrought stomacher, with a smoakie lawne or a blacke cipresse? Come, come, for shame doe not wrong the qualitie of your desert in so poore a kind: but let the Idea of what you are, be portraied in your aspect, that men may reade in your lookes; Here within this place is to be seene, the most admirable rare & accomplisht worke of nature; Cousin what think you of this?

Marry I do thinke of it, and I will be more melancholie, and gentlemanlike then I haue beene, I doe ensure you.

Why this is well: now if I can but hold vp this humor in him, as it is begun, Ca • so for Florence, match him & she can; Come cousin.

Ile follow you. Le. iu. Follow me? you must go before.

Must I? nay then I pray you shew me good cousin.

I thinke this be the house: what howgh?

Who's there? oh Signior Matheo. God giue you good morrow sir.

What? Cob? how doest thou good Cob? doest thou inhabite here Cob?

I sir, I and my lineage haue kept a poore house in our daies.

Thy lineage monsieur Cob? what lineage, what lineage?

Why sir, an ancient lineage, and a princely: mine ancetri • came from a kings loynes, no worse man; and yet no man neither, but Herring the king of fish, one of the monarches of the world I assure you. I doe fetch my pedegree and name from the first redde herring that was eaten in Adam, & Eues kitchin: his Cob was my great, great, mighty great grandfather.

Why mightie? why mightie?

Oh its a mightie while agoe sir, and it was a mightie great Cob.

How knowest thou that?

How know I? why his ghost comes to me euery night.

Oh vnsauorie iest: the ghost of a herring Cob.

I, why not the ghost of a herring Cob, as well as the ghost of Rashero Baccono, they were both broild on the coales: you are a scholler, vpsolue me that now.

Oh rude ignorance. Cob canst thou shew me, of a gē tleman, one Signior Bobadilla, where his lodging is?

Thy guest, alas? ha, ha.

Why do you laugh sir? do you not meane signior Bobadilla?

Cob I pray thee aduise thy selfe well: do not wrong the gentleman, and thy selfe too. I dare be sworne hee scornes thy house hee. 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 • hould'st giue it him.

I will not giue it him. Masse 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, and't please you to go vp sir, you shall find him with two cushions vnder his head, and his cloake wrapt about him, as though he had neither won nor lost, and yet I warrant hee ne're cast better in his life then hee hath done to night.

Why was he drunke?

Drunk sir? you heare not me say so; perhaps he swallow'd a tauerne token, or some such deuise sir; I haue nothing to doe withal: I deale with water and not with wine. Giue me my tankard there, ho. God be with you sir, its sixe a clocke: I should haue caried two turnes by this, what ho? my stopple come.

Lie in a waterbearers house, a gentleman of his note? well ile tell him my mind.

What Tib, shew this gentleman vp to Signior Bobadilla: oh and my house were the Brazen head now, faith it would eene crie moe fooles yet: you should haue some now, would take him to be a gentleman at the least; alas God helpe 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 braue gallants about the towne, such as my guest is, (oh my guest is a fine man) and they • lout him inuinciblie. He vseth euery day to a Marchāts house (where I serue water) one M. Thorellos; and here's the iest, he is in loue with my masters sister, and cals her mistres: and there he sits a whole afternoone sometimes, reading of these same abhominable, vile, (a poxe on them, I cannot abide them) rascally verses, Poetrie, poetrie, and speaking of E • terludes, t'will make a man burst to heare him: and the wenches, they doe so geere and ti • e at him; well, should they do as much to me, Ild forsweare them all, by the life of Pharoah, there's an oath: how many waterbearers shall you heare sweare such an oath? oh I haue a guest (he teacheth me) he doth sweare the best of any man christned: By Phoebus, By the life of Pharaoh, By the body of me, As I am gentleman, and a soldier: such daintie oathes; & withall he doth take this same filthie roaguish Tabacco the finest, and cleanliest; it wold do a man good to see the fume come forth at his nostrils: well, he owes me fortie shillings (my wife lent him out of her purse; by sixpence a time) besides his lodging; I would I had it: I shall haue it he saith next Action▪ Helter skelter, hang sorrow, care will kill a cat, vptailes all, and a poxe on the hangman.

Bobadilla discouers himselfe: on a bench; to him Tib.

Hostesse, hostesse.

What say you sir?

A cup of your small beere sweet hostesse.

Sir, ther's a gentleman below would speake with you.

A gentleman, (Gods so) I am not within.

My husband told him you were sir.

What ha plague? what meant he?

Signior Bobadilla.

Who's there? (take away the bason good hostesse) come vp sir.

He would desire you to come vp sir; you come into a cleanly house here.

God saue you sir, God saue you.

Signior Matheo, is't you sir? please you sit downe.

I thanke you good Signior, you may see, I am somewhat audacious.

Not so Signior, I was requested to supper yesternight▪ by a sort of gallants where you were wisht for, and drunke to I assure you.

Vouchsafe me by whom good Signior.

No haste sir, it is very well.

Bodie of me, it was so late ere we parted last night, I can scarse open mine eyes yet; I was but new risen as you came: how passes the day abroad sir? you can tell.

Faith some halfe houre to seuen: now trust me you haue an exceeding fine lodging here, very neat, and priuate.

I sir, sit downe I pray you: Signior Matheo (in any case) possesse no gentlemen of your acquaintance with notice of my lodging.

Who I sir? no.

Not that I neede to care who know it, but in regard I would not be so popular and generall, as some be.

True Signior, I conceiue you.

For do you see sir, by the hart of my selfe (except it be to some peculiar and choice spirits, to whom I am extraordinarily ingag'd, as your selfe, or so) I would not extend thus farre.

O Lord sir I resolue so.

What new booke haue you there? what? Go by Hier • • imo.

I, did you euer see it acted? is't not well pend?

Well pend: I would faine see all the Poets of our time pen such another play as that was; they I prate and swagger, and keepe a stirre of a • te and deuises, when (by Gods so) they are the most shallow pittifull fellowes that liue vpon the face of the earth againe.

Indeede, here are a number of fine speeches in this booke: Oh eyes, no eyes but fountaines fraught with teares; there's a conceit: Fountaines fraught with teares. Oh life, no life, but liuely forme of death: is't not excellent? Oh world, no world, but masse of publique wrongs; O Gods mee: confusde and fild with murther and misdeeds. Is't not simply the best that euer you heard? Ha, how do you like it?

Tis good.

Nay proceed, proceed, where's this? where's this?

This sir, a toy of mine owne in my nonage: but when will you come and see my studie? good faith I can shew you some verie good thinges I haue done of late: that boote becomes your legge passing well sir, me thinks.

So, so, it's a fashion gentlemen vse.

Masse sir, and now you speake of the fashion, Signior Prosperos elder brother and I are fallen out exceedingly: this other day I hapned to enter into some discourse of a hanger, which I assure you, both for fashion & workmanship was most beautifull and gentlemanlike; yet hee condemned it for the most pide and ridiculous that euer he saw.

Signior Giuliano, was it not? the elder brother?

I sir, he.

Hang him Rooke he? why he has no more iudgement then a malt horse. By S. George, I hold him the most peremptorie absurd clowne (one a them) in Christendome: I protest to you (as I am a gentleman and a soldier) I ne're talk't with the like of him: he ha's not so much as a good word in his bellie, all iron, iron, a good commoditie for a smith to make hobnailes on.

I, and he thinkes to carrie it away with his manhood still where he comes: he brags he will giue mee the bastinado, as I heare.

How, the bastinado? how came he by that word trow?

Nay indeed he said cudgill me; I tearmd it so for the more grace.

That may bee, for I was sure it was none of his word: but when, when said he so?

Faith yesterday they say, a young gallant a friend of mine told me so.

By the life of Pharaoh, and't were my case nowe, I should send him a challenge presently: the bastinado? come hither, you shall challenge him; ile shew you a tricke or two, you shall kill him at pleasure, the first stockado if you will, by this ayre.

Indeed you haue absolute knowledge in the mistery, I haue heard sir.

Of whom? of whom I pray?

Faith I haue heard it spoken of diuers, that you haue verie rare skill sir.

By heauen, no, not I, no skill in the earth: some small science, know my time, distance, or so, I haue profest it more for noblemen and gentlemens vse, then mine owne practise I assure you. Hostesse, lend vs another bedstaffe here quickly: looke you sir, exalt not your point aboue this state at any hand, and let your poyneard maintaine your defence thus: giue it the gentleman. So sir, come on, oh twine your bodie more about, that you may come to a more sweet comely gentlemanlike guard; so indifferent. Hollow your bodie more sir, thus: now stand fast on your left leg, note your distance, keep your due proportion of time: oh you disorder your point most vilely.

How is the bearing of it now sir?

Oh out of measure ill, a well experienced man would passe vpon you at pleasure.

How meane you passe vpon me?

Why thus sir? make a thrust at me; come in vpon my time; controll your point, and make a full carriere at the bodie: the best practis'd gentlemen of the time terme it the passado, a most desperate thrust, beleeue it.

Well, come sir.

Why you do not manage your weapons with that facilitie and grace that you should doe, I haue no spirit to play with you, your dearth of iudgement makes you seeme tedious.

But one ve • y sir.

Faith I haue not past two shillings, or so.

Tis somewhat with the least, but come, when we haue done, weele call vp Signior Prospero; perhaps we shal meet with Coridon his brother there.

Piso, come hither: there lies a note within vpon my deske; here take my key: it's no matter neither, where's the boy?

Within sir, in the warehouse.

Let him tell ouer that Spanish gold, and weigh it, and do you see the deliuerie of those wares to Signior Bentiuol • : ile be there my selfe at the receipt of the money anon.

Verie good sir.

Brother, did you see that same fellow there?

I, what of him?

He is e'ene the honestest faithfull seruant, that is this day in Florence; (I speake a proud word now) and one that I durst trust my life into his hands, I haue so strong opinion of his loue, if need were.

God send me neuer such need: but you said you had somewhat to tell me, what is't?

You are too tedious, come to the matter, come to the matter.

Faith I know not what I should say to him: so God saue mee, I am eene at my wits end, I haue tolde him inough, one would thinke, if that would serue: well, he knowes what to trust to for me: let him spend, and spend, and domineere till his hart ake: & he get a peny more of me, Ile giue him this • are.

Nay good Brother haue patience.

I will speake to him.

Speake to him? away, by the life of Pharoah you shall not, you shall not do him that grace: the time of daye to you Gentleman: is Signior Prospero stirring?

How then? what should he doe?

Signior Thorello, is he within sir?

He came not to his lodging to night sir, I assure you.

Why do you heare? you.

This gentleman hath satisfied me, Ile talke to no Scauenger.

How Scauenger? stay sir stay.

Nay Brother Giuliano.

S'blood stand you away, and you loue me.

You shall not follow him now I pray you, Good faith you shall not.

Ha? Scauenger? well goe to, I say little, but, by this good day (God forgiue me I should sweare) if I put it vp so, say I am the rankest—that euer pist. S'blood and I swallowe this, Ile neere drawe my sworde in the sight of man againe while I liue; Ile • it in a Barne with Madge-owlet first, Scauenger? 'Hart and Ile goe neere to fill that hug • timbrell slop of yours with somewhat and I haue good lucke, your Garagantua breech cannot carry it away so.

Oh do not fret your selfe thus, neuer thinke o • 't.

These are my brothers consorts these, these are his Cumrades, his walking mates, hees a gallant, a Caueliero too, right hangman cut, God let me not liue, and I could not finde in my hart to swinge the whole ne • t of them, one after another, and begin with him first, I am grieu'd it should be said he is my brother, and take these courses, well he shall heare on't, and that tightly too, and I liue Ifaith.

Ile but giue order to my seruants for the dispatche of some busines and come to you presently.

Perhaps so sir, take heede some body haue not the • ▪ by the belly for walking so late in the euening.

Sister Hesperida, I pray you fetch downe the Rose water aboue in the closet: Sweete hart will you come in to breakfast.

And she haue ouer-heard me now?

I pray thee (good Musse) we stay for you.

By Christ I would not for a thousand crownes.

VVhat ayle you sweete hart, are you not well, speake good Musse.

Troth my head akes extreamely on a suddaine.

Oh Iesu!

How now? what?

Good Lord how it burnes? Musse keepe you warme, good truth it is this new disease, there's a number are troubled withall: for Gods sake sweete heart, come in out of the ayre.

I pray thee good sweet heart come in; the ayre will do you harme in troth.

S'blood, I cannot chuse but laugh to see my selfe translated thus, from a poore creature to a creator; for now must I create an intolerable sort of lies, or else my profession looses his grace, and yet the lie to a man of my coat, is as ominous as the 〈◊〉 oh sir, it holds for good policie to haue that outwardly in vilest estimation, that inwardly is most deare to vs: So much for my borrowed shape. Well, the troth is, my maister intends to follow his sonne drie-foot to Florence, this morning: now I knowing of this conspiracie, and the rather to insinuate with my young master, ( • or so must wee that are blew waiters, or men of seruice doe, or else perhaps wee may weare motley at the yeares end, and who weares motley you know:) I haue got me afore in this disguise, determining here to lie in ambuscado, & intercept him in the midway: If I can but get his cloake, his purse, his hat, nay any thing so I can stay his iourney, Rex Regum, I am made for euer ifaith: well, now must I practise to get the true garbe of one of these Launce-knights: my arme here, and my: Gods so, young master and his cousin.

So sir, and how then?

Gods foot, I haue lost my purse, I thinke.

How? lost your purse? where? when had you it?

I cannot tell, stay.

S'lid I am afeard they will know me, would I could get by them.

What? haue you it?

No, I thinke I was bewitcht, I.

Nay do not weep, a poxe on it, hang it let it go.

Oh it's here, nay and it had beene lost, I had not car'd but for a • et ring Marina • ent me.

A iet ring? oh the poesie, the poesie?

Fine ifaith: Though fancie sleepe, my loue is deepe: meaning that though I did not fancie her, yet shee loued mee dearely.

Most excellent.

And then I sent her another, and my poesie was; The deeper the sweeter, Ile be iudg'd by Saint Peter.

How, by S. Peter? I do not conceiue that.

Marrie, S. Peter to make vp the meeter.

Well, you are beholding to that Saint▪ 〈◊〉 help't you at your need; thanke him, thanke him.

Where hast thou seru'd?

May it please you Signior, in all the prouinces of Bohemia, Hungaria, Dalmatia, Poland, where not? I haue beene a poore seruitor by sea and land, any time this xiiij. yeares, and follow'd the fortunes of the best Commaunders in Christendome. I was twise shot at the taking of Aleppo, once at the reliefe of Vienna; I haue beene at America in the galleyes thrise▪ where I was most dangerously shot in the head, through both the thighes, and yet being thus maim'd I am voide of maintenance, nothing left me but my scarres, the noted markes of my resolution.

How will you sell this Rapier friend?

Faith Signior, I referre it to your owne iudgement; you are a gentleman, giue me what you please.

I assure you the blade may become the side of the best prince in Europe.

I, with a veluet scabberd.

Nay and't be mine it shall haue a veluet scabberd, that is flat, • 'de not weare it as'tis and you would giue me an angell.

At your pleasure Signior, nay it's a most pure Toledo.

I had rather it were a Spaniard: but tell me, what shal I giue you for it? and it had a siluer hilt—

Come, come, you shall not buy it; holde there's a shilling friend, take thy Rapier.

Why but I will buy it now, because you say so: what shall I go without a rapier?

You may buy one in the citie.

Tut, ile buy this, so I will; tell me your lowest price.

You shall not I say.

By Gods lid, but I will, though I giue more then 'tis worth.

Come away, you are a foole.

Friend, ile haue it for that word: follow me.

At your seruice Signior.

My master: nay faith haue at you: I am flesht now I haue sped so well: Gentleman, I beseech you respect the estate of a poor soldier; I am asham'd of this base course of life (God's my comfort) but extremitie prouokes me to't, what remedie?

I haue not for you now.

By the faith I beare vnto God, gentleman, it is no o •• dinarie custome, but onely to preserue manhood. I protest to you, a man I haue bin, a man I may be, by your sweet bountie.

I pray thee good friend be satisfied.

Good Signior: by Iesu you may do the part of a kind gentleman, in lending a poore soldier the price of two cans of beere, a matter of small value, the King of heauen shall pay you, and I shall rest thankfull: sweet Signior.

Nay and you be so importunate—

Oh Lord sir, need wil haue his course: I was not made to this vile vse; well, the edge of the enemie could not haue abated me so much: it's hard when a man hath serued in his Princes cause and be thus. Signior, let me deriue a small peece of siluer from you, it shall not be giuen in the course of time, by this good ground, I was faine to pawne my rapier last night for a poore supper, I am a Pagan els: sweet Signior.

Faith signior, I would gladly finde some other course if so▪

I, you'ld gladly finde it, but you will not seeke it.

Alas • e sir, where should a man seeke? in the warres, there's no assent by desart in these dayes, but: and for seruice would it were as soone purchast as wisht for (Gods my comfort) I know what I would say.

Whats thy name.

Please you: Portensi • .

Signior: by the place and honor of a souldier.

Nay, nay, I like not these affected othes; Speake plainly man: what thinkst thou of my words?

Nothing signior, but wish my fortunes were as happy as my seruice should be honest.

Well follow me, ile prooue thee, if thy deedes Will cary a proportion to thy words.

Yes faith sir, we were at your lodging to seeke you too.

Oh I came not there to night.

Your brother deliuered vs as much.

Who Giuliano?

Ciuliano▪ Signior Prospero, I know not in what kinde you value me, but let me tell you this: as sure as God I do hold it so much out of mine honor & reputation, if I should but cast the least regard vpon such a dunghill of flesh; I protest to you (as I haue a soule to bee saued) I ne're saw any gentlemanlike part in him: and there were no more men liuing vpon the face of the earth, I should not fancie him by Phoebus.

Troth nor I, he is of a rusticall cut, I know not how: he doth not carrie himselfe like a gentleman.

Oh Signior Matheo, that's a grace peculiar but to a few; quos aequus amauit Iupiter.

I vnderstand you sir.

No question you do sir: Lorenzo; now on my soule welcome; how doest thou sweet raskall? my Genius? S'blood I shal loue Apollo, & the m • d Thespian girles the better while I • ue for this; my deare villaine, now I see there's some spirit in thee: Sirra these be they two I writ to thee of, nay what a drowsie humor is this now? why doest thou not speake?

Oh you are a fine gallant, you sent me a rare letter.

Why was't not rare?

Yes ile be sworne I was ne're guiltie of reading the like, match it in all Pli • ies familiar Epistles, and ile haue my iudgement burnd in the • are for a rogue, make much of thy vaine, for it is inimitable. But I marle what Camell it was, that had the cariage of it? for doubtlesse he was no ordinarie beast that brought it.

Why?

Why sayest thou? why doest thou thinke that any reasonable creature, especially in the morning, (the sober time of the day too) would haue taine my father for me?

S'blood you iest I hope?

Indeed the best vse we can turne it too, is to make a iest on't now: but ile assure you, my father had the prouing of your copy, some howre before I saw it.

What a dull slaue was this? But sirrah what sayd he to it yfaith?

Nay I know not what he said. But I haue a shrewd gesse what he thought.

What? what?

Mary that thou are a damn'd dissolute villaine, And I some graine or two better, in keeping thee company.

Tut that thought is like the Moone in the last quarter, twill change shortly: but sirrha, I pray thee be acquainted with my two Zanies heere, thou wilt take exceeding pleasure in them if thou hearst them once, but what strange peece of silence is this? the signe of the dumbe man?

Oh sir a ki • sman of mine, one that may make our Musique the fuller and he please, he hath his humor sir.

Oh what ist? what ist?

Nay: ile neyther do thy iudgement, nor his folly that wrong, as to prepare thy apprehension: ile leaue him to the mercy of the time, if you can take him: so.

My name is signior Stephano, sir, I am this Gentlemans cousin, sir his father is mine vnckle; sir, I am somewhat melancholie, but you shall commaund me sir, in whatsoeuer is incident to a Gentleman.

Signior, I must tell you this, I am no generall man, embrace it as a most high fauour, for (by the host of Egypt) but that I conceiue you, to be a Gentleman of some parts, I loue few words: you haue wit: imagine.

I truely sir, I am mightily giuen to melancholy.

Oh Lord sir, it's your only best humor sir, your true melancholy, breedes your perfect fine wit sir: I am melancholie my selfe diuers times sir, and then do I no more but take your pen and paper presently, and write you your halfe score or your dozen of sonnets at a sitting.

Masse then he vtters them by the grosse.

Truely sir and I loue such things out of measure.

I faith, as well as in measure.

Why I pray you signior, make vse of my studie, it's at your seruice.

I thanke you sir, I shalbe bolde I warrant you, haue you a close stoole there?

Faith sir, I haue some papers there, toyes of mine owne doing at idle houres, that you'le say there's some sparkes of wit in them, when you shall see them.

Would they were kindled once, and a good fire made, I might see selfe loue burnd for her heresie.

Cousin, is it well? am I melancholie inough?

Oh I, excellent.

Signior Bobadilla? why muse you so?

He is melancholy too.

Faith sir, I was thinking of a most honorable piece of seruice was perform'd to morow; being S Marks day: shalbe some tē years.

In what place was that seruice, I pray you sir?

So, I had as liefe as an angell I could sweare as well as that gentleman.

Then you were a seruitor at both it seemes.

Oh Lord sir: by Phaeton I was the first man that entred the breach, and had I not effected it with resolution, I had bene slaine if I had had a million of liues.

Indeed sir?

Nay & you heard him discourse you would say so: how like you him?

I assure you (vpon my saluation) 'tis true, and your selfe shall confesse.

You must bring him to the racke first.

Obserue me iudicially sweet signior: they had planted me a demy culuering, iust in the mouth of the breach; now sir (as we were to ascend) their master gunner (a man of no meane skill and courage, you must thinke) confronts me with his Linstock ready to giue fire; I spying his intendement, discharg'd my Petrinell in his bosome, and with this instrument my poore Rapier, ran violently vpon the Moores that guarded the ordinance, and put them pell-mell to the sword.

To the sword? to the Rapier signior.

Oh it was a good figure obseru'd sir: but did you all this signior without hurting your blade.

Without any impeach on the earth: you shall perceiue sir, it is the most fortunate weapon, that euer rid on a poore gentlemans thigh: shall I tell you sir, you talke of Mor • glay, Excaliber, Durindana, or so: tut, I lend no credit to that is reported of them, I know the vertue of mine owne, and therefore I dare the boldlier maintaine it.

A most perfect Toledo, I assure you signior.

I haue a countriman of his here.

Pray you let's see 〈◊〉 : yes faith it is.

This a Toledo▪ pis •• .

Why do you pish signior?

A Fleming by Phoebus, ile buy them for a guilder a pece • and ile haue a thousand of them.

How say you cousin, I told you thus much.

VVhere bought you it sig • ior?

Of a scuruy rogue Souldier, a pox of God on him, he swore it was a Toledo.

A prouant Rapier, no better.

Masse I thinke it be indeed.

Tut now it's too late to looke on it, put it vp, put it vp.

VVell I will not put it vp, but by Gods foote, and ere I meete him—

Oh it is past remedie now sir, you must haue patience.

Horson conny-catching Raskall; oh I could eate the very hilts for anger.

A signe you haue a good Ostrich stomack Cousin.

A stomack? would I had him here, you should see and I had a stomacke.

It's better as 'tis: come gentlemen shall we goe?

A miracle cousin, looke here, looke here.

Oh, Gods lid, by your leaue, do you know me sir.

I sir, I know you by sigh • .

You sold me a Rapier, did you not?

Yes marry did I sir.

You said it was a Toled • ha?

True I did so.

But it is none.

No sir, I confesse it, it is none.

Gentlemen beare witnesse, he has con • est it. By Gods lid, and you had not confest it—

Nay I haue done cousin.

Why you haue done like a Gentleman, he ha's confest it, what would you more?

Sirra how doost thou like him.

Oh its a pretious good foole, make much on him: I can compare him to nothing more happely, then a Barbers virginals; for euery one may play vpon him.

Gentleman, shall I intreat a word with you?

With all my heart sir, you haue not another Toledo to sell, haue yee?

You are pleasant, your name is signior Lorenzo as I take it.

You are in the right: S'bloud he meanes to catechize me I thinke.

No sir, I leaue that to the Curate, I am none of that coate.

And yet of as bare a coate; well, say sir.

Faith signior, I am but seruant to God Mars extraordinarie, and indeed (this brasse varnish being washt off, and three or foure other tricks sublated) I appeare yours in reuersion, after the decease of your good father, Musco.

Musco, s'bloud what winde hath blowne thee hither in this shape.

Your Easterly winde sir, the same that blew your father hither.

My father?

Nay neuer start, it's true, he is come to towne of purpose to seeke you.

Sirra Prospero: what shall we do sirra, my father is come to the city.

Thy father: where is he?

At a Gentlemans house yonder by Saint A • thonies▪ where he but stayes my returne; and then—

Who's this? Musco?

The same sir.

Why how comst thou trans-muted thus?

Faith a deuise, a deuise, nay for the loue of God, stand not here Gentlemen, house your selues and ile tell you all.

But art thou sure he will stay thy returne?

Do I liue sir? what a question is that?

Well wee'le prorogue his expectation a little: Musc • thou • halt go with vs: Come on Gentlemen: nay I pray thee (good raskall) droope not, s'hart and our wits be so gowty, that one old plodding braine can out-strip vs all, Lord I beseech thee, may they lie and starue in some miserable spittle, where they may neuer see the face of any true spirit againe, but bee perpetually haunted with some church-yard Hobgoblin in s • cul • secul • rum.

Amen, Amen.

He will expect you sir within this halfe houre.

Why what's a clocke?

New striken ten.

Hath he the money ready, can you tell?

Yes sir, Baptista brought it yesternight.

Sir, signior Platano wil meet you there with the bo • d.

Past ten sir.

Sir.

Yet now I haue bethought me to, I wil not. Is Cob within?

I thinke he be sir.

Sir, if a seruants zeale and humble duetie may bee term'd loue, you are possest of it.

I haue a matter to impart to thee, but thou must be secret, Piso.

Sir for that—

Reueale it sir?

Nay, I do not think thou wouldst, but if thou shouldst:

Sir, then I were a villaine: Disclaime in me for euer if I do.

Not yet sir, but I will, so please you.

At your pleasure sir.

I pray you search the bookes gainst I returne For the receipts twixt me and Platan • .

I will sir.

And heare you: if my brother Prospero Chance to bring hither any gentlemen Ere I come backe: let one straight bring me word.

Very well sir.

Forget it not, nor be not you out of the way.

I will not sir.

Or whether he come or no, if any other, Stranger or els? faile not to send me word.

Yes sir.

Haue care I pray you and remember it.

I warrant you sir.

But Piso, this is not the secret I told thee of.

No sir, I suppose so.

Nay beleeue me it is not.

I do beleeue you sir.

By heauen it is not, that's enough. Marrie, I would not thou shouldst vtter it to any creature liuing. Yet I care not.

Fasting dayes: what tell you me of your fasting dayes▪ would they were all on a light fire for mee: they say the world shall be consum'd with fire and brimstone in the latter day: but I would we had these ember weekes, and these villanous fridaies burnt in the meane time, and then—

Why • ow now C • b, what moues thee to this choller? ha?

Coller fir • swounds I scorn • your coller, I sir am no colliers horse sir, neuer ride me with your coller, and you doe, ile shew you a iades tricke.

Oh you'le slip your head out of the coller: why Cob you mistake me.

Nay I haue my rewme, and I be angrie as well as another, sir.

Thy rewme; thy humor man, thou mistakest.

Humor? macke, I thinke it bee so indeed: what is this humor? it's some rare • hing I warrant.

Marrie ile tell thee what it is (as tis generally receiued in these daies) it is a monster bred in a man by selfe loue, and affectation, and fed by folly.

How? must be 〈◊〉

Oh I▪ humor is nothing if it • e not • ed, why, didst thou 〈◊〉 heare of that? it's a common phrase, Feed my 〈◊〉 .

Ile none on it: humor, auaunt, I know you not, be gon. Let who will make hungry meales for you, it shall not bee I: Feed you quoth 〈◊〉 blood I haue much adoe to feed my self, especially on these 〈…〉 daies • oo, and't had beene any other day but a fasting day▪ 〈…〉 on them all for mee: by this light one might haue done God good seruice and haue drown'd them 〈◊〉 in the floud two or three hundred thousand year •• ago, oh I do stomacke them hugely: I haue a mawe now, and't were for 〈◊〉 Be • isses horse.

Marrie that, that will make any man out of loue with them, I thinke: their bad conditions and you wil needs know: First, they are of a Flemmish breed I am sure on't, for they raūe vp more butter then all the daies of the weeke beside: next, they stinke of fish miserably: Thirdly, they'le keep a man deuoutly hungry all day, & at night send him supperlesse to bed.

Indeed these are faults Cob.

Nay and this were all, 'twere something, but they are the onely knowne enemies to my generation. A fasting day no sooner comes, but my lineage goes to racke, poore Cobbes they smoake for it, they melt in passion, and your maides too know this, and yet would haue me turne Hannibal, and eat my owne fish & blood:Pul • so▪ a red Herri •• my princely couze, feare nothing; I haue not the heart to deuoure you, and I might bee made as rich as Golias: oh that I had roome for my teares, I could weep salt water enough now to preserue the liues of ten thousand of my kin: but I may curse none but these filthy Almanacks; for and't were not for them, these daies of persecution would ne're bee knowne. Ile be hang'd and some Fishmongers sonne doe not make on'them, and puts in more fasting daies then hee should doe, because he would vtter his fathers dried stockfish.

S'oule peace, thou'lt be beaten like a stockfish else: here is Signior Math •• . Now must I looke out for a messenger to my Master.

Beshrew me, but it was an absolute good iest, and exceedingly well caried.

I and our ignorance maintained it as well, did it not?

Yes faith, but was't possible thou should'st not know him?

Fore God not I, and I might haue beene ioind patten with one of the nine worthies for knowing him. S'blood man, he had so writhe • himselfe into the habit of one of your poore Dispar • i • 's here, your decaied, ruinous, worme-eaten gentlem • n of the round: such as haue vowed to sit on the skirts of the city, let your Prouost & his half dozen of halberders do what they can; and haue translated begging out of the olde hackney pace, to a fine easy amble, and made it runne as smooth of the toung, as a shoue-groat shilling, into the likenes of one of these leane Pirgo's, had hee moulded himselfe so perfectly, obseruing euerie tricke of their action, as varying the accent: swearing with an Emphasis. Indeed all with so speciall and exquisite a grace, that (hadst thou seene him) thou wouldst haue sworne he might haue beene the Tamberlaine, or the Agamemnon on the rout.

I cannot tell, but (vnles a man had iuggled begging all his life time, and beene a weauer of phrases from his infancie, for the apparrelling of it) I thinke the world cannot produce his Riuall.

Why, doest thou not know him? he is the Go •• alioner • of the state here, an ex • ellent rare ciuilian, and a great scholler, but the onely mad merry olde fellow in Europe: I shewed him you the other day.

Oh I remember him now; Good faith, and he hath a very strange presence me thinkes, it shewes as if he stoode out of the ranke from other men. I haue heard many of his iests in Padua: they say he will commit a man for taking the wall of his horse.

Body of me: here's the remainder of seuen pound, since yesterday was seuen night. It's your right Trinidad • : did you neuer take any, signior?

Signior beleeue me, (vpon my relation) for what I tel you, the world shall not improue. I haue been in the Indies (where this herbe growes) where neither my selfe, nor a dozen Gentlemen more (of my knowledge) haue receiued the taste of any other nutriment, in the world, for the space of one and twentie weekes, but Tabacco onely. Therefore it cannot be but 'tis most diuine. Further, take it in the nature, in the true kinde so, it makes an Antidote, that (had you taken the most de • dly poysonous simple in all Florence, it should expell it, and clarifie you, with as much ease, as I speak. And for your greene wound, your Bals •• um, and your—are all meere gull • ries, and trash to it, especially your Trinidado: your 〈◊〉 is good too: I could say what I know of the vertue of it, for the exposing of rewmes, raw humors, crudities, obstructions, with a thousand of this kind; but I professe my selfe no quacke-saluer: only thus much: by H • rcul • s I doe holde it, and will affirme it (before any Prince in Europe) to be the most soueraigne, and pretious herbe, that euer the earth tendred to the vse of man.

By gods dey • es: I marle what pleasure of felicitie they haue in taking this rogish Tabacco: it's good for nothing but to choake a man, and fill him full of smoake, and imbers: there were foure died out of one house last weeke with taking of it, and two more the bell went for yester-night, one of them (they say) will ne're scape it, he voyded a bushell of • oote yester-day, vpward and downeward. By the stockes; and there were no wiser men then I, I'ld haue it present death, man or woman, that should but deale with a Tabacco pipe; why, it will sti • le them all in the'nd as many as vse it; it's little better then rats bane.

A horson filthy slaue, a turd, an excrement. Body of Cesar, but that I scorne to let forth so meane a spirit, i'ld haue stab'd him to the earth.

Oh he sweares admirably: (by this faire heauen:) Body of Cesar: I shall neuer doe it, sure (vpon my saluation) no I haue not the right grace.

Oh this Gentleman doth it rarely too, but nothing like the other. By this ayre, as I am a Gentleman: by Phoebus.

Oh let's follow them: signior Matheo is gone to salute his mistresse, sirra now thou shalt heare some of his verses, for he neuer comes hither without some shreds of poetrie: Come signior Stephano, Musco.

I, he lacks nothing but a little light stuffe, to draw them out withall, and he were rarely fitted to the time.

God's my iudge, I saw no body to be kist, vnlesse they would haue kist the post, in the middle of the warehouse; for there I left them all, at their Tabacco with a poxe.

Nay, soft and faire, I haue egges on the spit; I cannot go yet sir: now am I for some diuers reasons hammering, hammering reuenge: oh for three or foure gallons of vineger, to sharpen my wits: Reuenge, vineger reuenge, russet reuenge; nay, and hee had not lyne in my house, t'would neuer haue greeu'd me; but being my guest, one that ile bee sworne, my wife ha's lent him her smocke off her backe, while his owne shirt ha beene at washing: pawnd her neckerchers for cleane bands for him: sold almost all my platters to buy him Tabacco; and yet to see an ingratitude wretch: strike his host; well I hope to raise vp an host of furies for't: here comes M. Doctor.

I sir, at the signe of the water-tankerd, hard by the greene lattice: I haue p • ide scot and lott • there any time this eighteene yeares.

No god's my comfort, I meane your worships warrant, for one that hath wrong'd me sir: his armes are at too much libertie, I would faine haue them bound to a treatie of peace, and I could by any meanes compasse it.

No sir; but I goe in danger of my death euery hour • by his meanes; and I die within a twelue-moneth and a day, I may sweare, by the lawes of the land, that he kil'd me.

Good: But wherefore did he beate you sirra? how began the quarrel twixt you? ha: speake truly knaue, I aduise you.

What? a tankard-bearer, a thread-bare rascall, a begger, a slaue that neuer drunke out of better thē pispot mettle in his life, and he to depraue, and abuse the vertue of an herbe, so generally receyu'd in the courts of princes, the chambers of nobles, the bowers of sweete Ladies, the cabbins of souldiers: Peto away with him, by gods passion, I say, goe too.

Nay but good Signior: heare me a word, heare me a word, your cares are nothing; they are like my cap, soone put on, and as soone put off. What? your sonne is old inough, to gouerne himselfe; let him runne his course, it's the onely way to make him a stay'd man: if he were an vnthrift, a ruffian, a drunkard or a licentious liuer, then you had reason: you had reason to take care: but being none of these, Gods passion, and I had twise so many cares, as you haue, I'ld drowne them all in a cup of sacke: come, come, I muse your parcell of a souldier returnes not all this while.

Alasse brother, what would you haue me to doe? I cannot helpe it; you see, my brother Pr • spero he brings them in here, they are his friends.

His friends? his friends? s'blood they do nothing but haunt him vp and downe like a sorte of vnlucky Sprites, and tempt him to all maner of villany, that can be thought of; well, by this light, a little thing would make me play the deuill with some of them; and't were not more for your husbands sake, then any thing else, I'ld make the house too hot for them; they should say and sweare, Hell were broken loose, e're they went: But by gods bread, 'tis no bodies fault but yours: for and you had done as you might haue done, they should haue beene damn'd e're they should haue come in, e're a one of them.

God's my life; did you euer heare the like? what a strange man is this? could I keepe out all them thinke you? I should put my selfe against halfe a dozen men? should I? Good faith you'ld mad the patient'st body in the world, to heare you talke so, without any sense or reason.

Seruant (in troth) you are too prodigall of your wit • treasure; thus to powre it foorth vpon so meane a subiect, as my worth?

Fayth I did it in an h • mor: I know not how it is, b • t please you come neare signior: this gentleman hath i • dgement, he knowes how to cens • re of a▪—I pray you • ir▪ you can iudge.

How like you that signior, 〈◊〉 he shakes his head like a bo • tle, to feele and there be any brayne in it.

I vvould I might be damnd els: aske signior Bo • adill • . He sawe me vvrite them, 〈◊〉 the: (pox • on it) the Miter yonder.

Well, and the Pope knew hee curst the Miter it vvere enough to haue him excommunicated • ll the Ta • erns in the towne.

Sblood heares a trick • vied, and reuied: why you monkies you? vvhat a cat • er waling do you keepe? has he not giuen you rymes, and verses, and trickes.

N • y, you lampe of virginitie, that take it in snuffe so: come and cherish this tame poetical • ury in your seruant, youle be begd else shortly for a concealement: go to, rewarde his muse, you cannot giue him lesse then a shilling in conscience▪ for the booke he had it out of cost him a te • ton at the least, how now gallants, L • renzo, s •• gnior Bobadill • ? vvhat all sonnes of scilence? no spirite.

Come you might practise your Ruff • an trickes somewhere else, and not heare I wisse: this is no Tauerne, nor no place for such exploites.

Nay boy, neuer looke askaunce at me for the matter; ile tell you o • it by Gods bread? I, and you and your compan • ons mend your selues when I haue done.

I your companions • ir, so I say? Sblood I am not affrayed of you nor them ne • ther, you must haue your Poets, & your caueleeres, & your fooles follow you vp and downe the citie, and heare they must come to dominee • e and swagger? sirha, you Ballad singer, and Sl • ps your fellow there, get you out; get you out: or (by the will of God) Ile cut of your eares, goe to.

Sblood stay, lets see what he dare do: cut of his eares you are an asse, touch any man heare, and by the Lord ile run my rapier to the hilts in thee.

Well sirrah, you Hollofernus: by my hand I will pinck thy flesh full of holes with my rapier for this, I will by this good heauen: nay let him come, let him come, gentlemen by the body of S. George ile not kill him.The • ffer t • figh • againe and are parted.

A sorte of lewd rakehelles, that care neither for God nor the Diuell, And they must come heare to read Ballads and Rogery' and Trash, Ile marre the knot of them ere I sleepe perhaps: especially signior Pit • agorus, he thats al manner of shapes: and Songs and sonne • s, his fellow there.

Nay you h • ue stonnd me I fayth? you hue giuen me a knocke on the forehead, will sticke by me: cuckold? Swoundes cuckolde?

Oh he hath basted me rarely, sumptiously: but I haue it heare vvill s • use him, oh the doctor, the honestest old Troian in all Italy, I do honour the very • lea of his dog: a plague on him he 〈◊〉 me once in a villanous filthy feare: marry it vanisht away 〈…〉 smook • of To •• cco: but I vvas smookt soundly first, I thanke the Diuell, and his good Angell my guest: vvell vvife: or Tib (vvhich you vvill) get you in, and locke the doore I charge you, let no body into you: not Bobbadilla himselfe; nor the di • ell in his likenesse; you are a vvoman; you haue flesh and blood enough in you; therefore be not tempted; keepe the doore shut vpon all cummers.

I wa • rant you sir, •• are nothing I haue a nimble soule that hath wakt all my imaginatiue forces by this time, and put then▪ in true motion: vvhat you haue poss • st me withall? • le discharge it amply sir. Make no question.

Take man: vvhy it cannot chuse▪ but take▪ if the circumstances miscarry not, but tell me zealo • sly: dost tho • affect my sister Hesperida as thou pretendest?

Come do not pro • est I beleeue thee: I fayth she is • virgine of good • rnament, and much modestie, vn esse I conc • iud very w • rthely o • her, thou shouldest not haue her.

By S. Marke thou shalt haue her: ile go fetch her presently, poynt but where to meete, and by this hand ile bring her?

I pray the haue patience I am satisfied: Prosp • ro omit no off • red occasion, that may make my desires compleate I beseech thee.

Doe you here?Cob beates his wife. did I not charge you keepe your do • es shut here, and do you let them lieopen for all cōmers, do you scratch.

Nay, I will go, ile see and you may be aloud to beate your poore wife thus at euery cucko • dly knaues pleasure, the Diuell and the Pox t • ke you all for me: vvhy doe you not goe now.

Well of all my disguises yet now am I most like my selfe beeing in this va • lets suit, a man of my presen • profession neuer counterfeites till he lay holde vpon a debtor, and sayes he rests him, for then he bringes him to al manner of vnrest; A kinde of little kings vve are, bearing the diminitiue of a mace made like a young Hartechocke that alwayes car • ies Pepper and salte in it selfe, well I know not what danger I vnder go by this exploi • e, pray God I come vvell of.

Yes and please you sir, he told me two gentlemen had wild him to procure an arest vpon one signior Giulliano by a vvarrant from his maister, vvhich I haue about me.

It is honestly done of you both, and see where hee coms you must arest, vppon him for Gods sake before hee beware.

Signior Giulli •• o? am I signior Giulliano? I am one signior Stephano I tell you, and you do not vvell by Gods slid to arest me, I tell you truely; I am not in your maisters bookes, I would you should vvell know I: and a plague of God on you for making me afrayd thus.

You must goe before maister doctor Clement sir, to answere what these gentlemen will obiect agaynst you, harke you sir, I will vse you kindely.

Weele be euen with you sir, come signior Bobadilla▪ weele goe before and prepare the doctor: varlet looke to hi • .

Nay that shal • not serue your turne, varlet, bring him away, ile go • with thee now to the doctors, and carry him along.

Nay but stay, stay giue me leaue; my chayre sirha? you signior Lorenzo say you vvent thether to meete your sonne.

Why this is a meare tricke, a deuise; you are gulled in this most grosly: alasse poore vvench vvert thou beaten for this, how now • irha vvhats the matter? Enter one of the Do. men.

A Souldier? fetch me my armour, my sworde, quickly a souldier speake vvith me, vvhy vvhen knaues,—come on, come on, hold my cap there, so; giue me my gorget, my sword stand by • vvill end your matters anone; let the souldier enter, now sir vvhat haue you to say to me?

Nay keepe out sir, I know not your pretence, you send me vvord • ir you are a souldier, vvhy sir you shall bee answered here, here be them haue beene amongst sould •• rs. Sir your pleasure.

Fayth sir so it is: this gentleman and my selfe haue beene most violently vvronged by one signior Giullian • : a gallant of the citie here and for my owne part I protest, beeing a man in no sorte giuen to this filthy humor of quarreling, he hath asaulted me in the vvay of my peace: dispoyld me of mine honor, disarmd me of my vveapons, a • d beaten me in the open streetes: vvhen I not so much as once offered to resist him.

Oh Gods precious is this the souldier? here take my armour quickly, twill make him swoone I feare; he is not fit to looke on't, that vvill put vp a blow.

Bid him come in, set by the picture: now sir, what? signior Giulliano? ist you that are arested at • ignior freshwaters suit here.

Gods my vvitnesse my vn •• e, I am vvrongd here monstrously, he chargeth me vvith stealing of his cloake, & vvould I might neuer stir, if I did not finde it in the street by chance.

Well let this breath a while; you that haue cause t • complaine there, stand foorth; had you a vvarrant for thi • arrest.

Thats vvell and my clarke can make vvarrants, and my hand not at them; vvhere is the vvarrant? varlet ha •• you it?

Oh Gods pittie, vvas it so sir, he must arrest you: gi • e me my long sworde there: helpe me of; so, come on sir varlet, I must cut of your legges si • ha; nay stand vp ile vse you kindly; I mu •• cut of your legges I say.

Why so I sayd I must cut of thy legges, and I must • ut of thy armes, and I must cut of thy head: but I did not do it: so you sayd you must arrest this gentleman, but you did not arrest him you knaue, you sl • ue, you rogue, do you say you must arrest sirha: away with him to the iayle, ile teach yo • a • r •• ke for your must.

Nay sblood before I goe to prison, ile put on my olde brasen face, and disclaime in my vocation▪ Ile discouer thats flat, and I be committed, it shall be for the committing of more 〈◊〉 then this, hang 〈…〉 I loos • the least graine of my fam • .

Fayth sir afore I goe to this house of bondage, I haue a case to vnfolde to your worshippe: which (that it may appeare more playne vnto your worshippes view) I do thus first of all vncase, & appeare in mine owne proper nature, seruant to this gentleman: and known • by the name of Musco.

Nay good M. Doctor since I ha • e layd my selfe thus open to your worship: now stand strong for me, till the progresse of my tale be ended, and then if my vvit do not deserue your countenance: Slight throw it on a dogge, and let me goe hang my selfe.

Body of me a merry knaue, giue me a boule of Sack, signior Lorenzo, I bespeak your patience in perticuler, marry your eares ingenerall, here knaue, Doctor Clement drinkes to thee.

Indeede this is it will make a man speake freely. But to the poynt, know then that I Musc • (beeing somewhat more t • usted of my maister then reason required a • d knowing his intent to Fl • rence) did assume the habit of a poore souldier in wants, and minding by some meanes to intercept his iorney in the mid way, tw • xt the grandg and the city, I encountred him, where begging of him in the most accomplisht and true garbe (as they tearme it) contrarie to al expectation, he reclaimed me from that bad course of life; entertayned me into 〈◊〉 se •• ice, imployed me in his business possest me with his secrets, which I no sooner had receiued▪ but (seeking my young maister, and finding him at this gentlemans house) I reuealed all mos • amply: this done, by the d • uise of signior Pros • ero, and him together, I returnd ( • s the Rauen did to the Arke) to mine olde maist • r againe, told him he should finde his sonne in what maner he knows, at one Cobs house, where indeede he neuer ment to come, now my maister lie to maintayne the iest, went thether, and ieft me with your vvorships clarke: vvho being of a most fine supple disposition (as most of your clarkes are) proffers me the wine, which I h • d the grace to accept very easily, and to the tauerne we went: there after much ceremonie, I made him drunke in kindenesse, stript him to his shurt, and leauing him in that coole vayne, departed, frolicke, courtier like, hauing obtayned a suit: which suit fitting me exceedingly well, I put on, and vsurping your m • ns phrase & action, caried a message to Signior Thorello in your name: vvhich message vvas meerely deuised but to procure his absence, while signior Prospero might make a conueiance of Hesperida to my maister.

Stay, fill me the boule agayne, here; twere pittie of his life vvould not cherish such a spirite: I drinke to thee, fill him wine, why now do you perceiue the tricke of it.

Sirha goe vvar • e them •• ther presently before me: and if the hower of your fellowe • resurrection become bring him to. But forwarde, forwarde, vvhen thou hadst beene at Thorre ••• s.

M • rry sir (comming along the streete) these two g •• tlemen meet me, • nd very strongly supposing me to be yo •• vvorship • scribe, 〈◊〉 me to pro • ure th • m a vvarr •• t, for the arrest of signior 〈◊〉 , I promist them vpon some paire • f silke stockins or a iewell, or so, to do it, and to get a varlet of the citie to serue it, vvhich varlet I appoynted should meete them vpon the Realto 〈◊〉 such an houre, th • y no sooner gone, b • t I in a meere hope of more g • ine by signior Gi • lli • n • , went to one of S •• ans old Ingles • broker, & there pa • nd your man • liuerie, for a varlets suite, vvhich here vvith my selfe, I offer vnto your vvorships consideration.

Well giue me thy hand: Proh. superi ing • nium 〈◊〉 quis n • scit Ho • erum. Il • i • s 〈◊〉 si l • tuisset op •• ? I admire thee I honor thee, and if thy maister, or • ny man here be angry with thee, I shall suspect his wit while I know him for it, do • you heare Signior Thorell • , Signior Lorenz • , and the rest of my good friendes, I pray you let me haue peace when they come, I h •• e sent for the two gallants and Hesperida, Gods marry I musi haue yo • friendes, how now? what noyseis there?

Marry 〈◊〉 hung in the roome where they stript me, and I borrowed it of on of the drawers, now in the euening to come home in, because I was loth to come through the street in my shurt.

Well disarme him, but its no matter let him stand by, who be these? oh young gal • ants; welcome, welcome, and you Lady, nay neuer scatter such amazed lookes amongst vs, Qui nil potest sperare desperet nihil.

Faith M. Doctor thats euen I, my hopes are smal, and my dispaire shal be as little. Brother, sister, brother what cloudy, cloudy? and will 〈◊〉 sunshine on these lookes appeare, well since there is such a tempest towarde, ile be the porpuis, ile daunce: wench be of good cheare, thou hast a cloake for the rayne yet, where is he? S'hart how now, the picture of the prodigal, go to ile haue the calfe drest for you at my charges.

Well sonne L • renzo, this dayes worke of yours hath much deceiued my hopes, troubled my peace, and stretcht my patience further then became • he spirite of dutie.

Nay Gods pitie signior Lorenzo you shal vrge it no more come since you are here, ile haue the disposing o • all, but first signior Giulliano at my request take your cloake agayn • .

Stay now let me see, oh signior Snow • liuer I had almost forgotten him, and your Genius there, what doth he suffer for a good conscience to? doth he beare his crosse with patience.

What; al this verse, body of me he carries a whole realme; a common wealth of paper in his hose, lets see some of his sub • ects.

I Lorenzo, but election is now gouernd altogether by the influence of humor, which insteed of those holy flames that should direct and light the soule to eternitie, hurles foorth nothing bu • smooke and congested vapours, that stifle her vp, & berea • e her of al sight & motion. But she must haue store of Ell • bor • , giuen her to purge these grosse obstructions: oh thats well sayd, giue me thy torch, come lay this stuffe together. So, giue fire? there, see, see, how our Poets glory shines brighter, and brighter, still, still it incr •• seth, oh now its at the highest, and now it declines as fast: you may see gallants, Sic transit gloria mundi. Well now my two Signior out sides, stand foorth, and l • nd me your large 〈◊〉 , to • sentence, to a sentence: first you signior shall this night to the cage, and so shall you sir, from thence to morrow mor • ing, you signior shall be carried to the market crosse, and be there bound: and so shall yo • sir, in a large motlie coate, with • rodde at yo • r girdle; and you in an olde suite of sa • kcloth, •• d the ashes of your papers (saue the ashes sirha) shall mourne all day, and at night both together sing some ballad of repentance very pitteously, which you shall make to the t •• e of Wh • list t • lead • and a souldiers life, Sirha bil man, imbrace you this torch, and light the gentlemen to their lodgings, and because we tender their safetie, you shall watch them to night, you are prouided for the purpose▪ away and looke to your charge with an open eye sirha.

Yes and you sir: I had lost a sheepe and he h • d no • bleated, I must haue you all friends: but first a worde wit • you young gallant, and you Lady.

Wel brother Prospero by this good light that shines here I am loth to kindle fresh coles, but and you had come in my walke within these two houres I had giuen you that you should not haue clawne of agayne in hast, by Iesus I had done it, I am the arrenst rogue that euer bre • thd else, but now beshrew my hart if I beare you any malice in the earth.

Fayth I did it but to hould vp a iest: and helpe my sister to a husband, but brother Thor • llo, and sister, you haue a spice of the yealous yet both of you, (in your hose I meane,) come do not dwell vpon your anger so much, lets all be smoth fore headed once agayne.

He playes vpon my fore head, brother Giulliano, I pray you tell me one thing I shall aske you: is my foreheade any thing rougher then it was wont to be.

Nay if it were not, I do not care: do not weepe I pray thee sweete Biancha, nay so now? by Iesus I am not iealous, but resolued I haue the faythfulst wife in Italie.

None but this gentleman: to whom in my owne person I owe all dutie and affection: but most seriously intreate pardon, for whatsoeuer hath past in these occurrants, that might be contrarie to his most desired content.

Well then I coniure you all here to put of all discontentment, first you Signior L • renz • your cares; you, and you, your iealosie: you your anger, and you your wit sir: and for a peace offering, heres one willing to be sacrifised vppon this aulter: say d • you approue my motion?

VVhy then I wish them all ioy, and now to make our euening happinesse more full: this night you shall be all my guestes: where weele inioy the very spirite of mirth, and carouse to the health of this Heroick spirite, whom to honor the more I do inuest in my owne robes, desiring you two Giulliano, and Pr • spero, to be his supporters, the trayne to follow, my selfe will leade • , vsherd by my page here with this honorabl • verse. Claudite iam riuos pueri sat pr • ta biberunt.