|Every Man in his Humour.||
Mat. Faith, some half Hour to seven: Now trust|
me, you have an exceeding fine Lodging here, very
neat, and private!
Bob. I Sir: sit down, I pray you. Mr. Matthew (in
any case) possess no Gentlemen of our acquaintance,
with notice of my Lodging.
Mat. Who? I Sir? no.
Bob. Not that I need to care who know it, for the
Cabbin is convenient, but in regard I would not be
too popular, and generally visited, as some are.
Mat. True, Captain, I conceive you.
Bob. For, do you see, Sir, by the heart of valour in
me, (except it be to some peculiar and choice spirits,
to whom I am extraordinarily ingag'd, as your self, or
so) I could not extend thus far.
Mat. O Lord, Sir, I resolve so.
Bob. I confess, I love a cleanly and quiet privacy,
above all the tumult, and roar of fortune. What
new Book ha' you there? What! Go by, Hieronymo!
Mat. I, did you ever see it acted? is't not well pend?
Bob. Well pend? I would fain see all the Poets, of
these times, pen such another Play as that was! they'll
prate and swagger, and keep a stir of Art and De-
vices, when (as I am a Gentleman) read 'em, they
are the most shallow, pittiful, barren Fellows, that
live upon the face of the Earth, again!
Mat. Indeed, here are a number of fine Speeches in
this Book! O Eyes, no Eyes, but Fountains fraught with
Tears! There's a conceit! Fountains fraught with
Tears! O life, no life, but lively form of death! Another!
O World, no World, but mass of publick wrongs! A third!
Confuss'd and fill'd with murder, and misdeeds! A fourth!
O, the Muses! Is't not excellent? Is't not simply the
best that ever you heard, Captain? Ha? How do you
Bob. 'Tis good.
Mat. To the, the purest object to my sense,
The most refined Essence Heaven covers,
Send I these Lines, wherein I do commence
The happy state of Turtle-billing Lovers.
If they prove rough, un-polish't, harsh, and rude,
Haste make the waste. Thus, mildly, I conclude.
Bob. Nay, proceed, proceed. Where's this?
Mat. This, Sir? a Toy o' mine own, in my nonage:
|[Bobadill is making him ready all this while.
the infancy of my Muses! 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, passing well, Captain, methinks!
Bob. So, so, It's the fashion, Gentlemen now use?
Mat. Troth, Captain, and now you speak o' the Fa-
shion, Master Well-bred's elder Brother, and I, are faln
out exceedingly: this other day, I hapned to enter
into some discourse of a Hanger, which I assure you,
both for Fashion, and Work-man-ship, was most pe-
remptory-beautiful, and Gentleman-like! Yet he con-
demn'd, and cry'd it down for the most pyed and
ridiculous that ever he saw.
Bob. Squire Down-right? the half-Brother, was't not?
Mat. I Sir, he.
Bob. Hang him, rook, hee! why he ha's no more
judgment than a Malt-horse. By S. George, I wonder
youl'd lose a thought upon such an animal: the most
peremptory absurd clown of Christendom, this day, he is
holden. I protest to you, as I am a Gentleman and a
Soldier, I ne'r chang'd words, with his like. By his dis-
course, he should eat nothing but Hay. He was born
for the Manger, Pannier, or Pack-saddle! He has not so
much as a good Phrase in his Belly, but all old Iron, and
rusty Proverbs! a good Commodity for some Smith to
make Hob-nails of.
Mat. I, and he thinks to carry it away with his Man-
hood still, where he comes. He brags he will gi' me the
bastinado, as I hear.
Bob. How! He the bastinado! how came he by that
Mat. Nay, indeed, he said Cudgel me; I term'd it so,
for my more grace.
Bob. That may be: for I was sure it was none of his
word. But, when? when said he so?
Mat. Faith, yesterday, they say: a young Gallant, a
Friend of mine told me so.
Bob. By the Foot of Pharaoh, and 't were my case
now, I should send him a chartel presently. The bastina-
do! A most proper, and sufficient dependance, warranted
by the great Caranza. Come hither. You shall chartel him.
Ile shew you a trick or two, you shall kill him with, at
pleasure: the first stoccata, if you will, by this Air.
Mat. Indeed, you have absolute knowledge i' the my-
stery, I have heard, Sir.
Bob. Of whom? of whom ha' you heard it, I be-
Mat. Troth, I have heard it spoken of divers, that you
have very rare, and un-in-one-breath-utter-able skill, Sir.
Bob. By Heaven, no, not I; no skill i' the Earth: some
small rudiments i' the Science, as to know my time, di-
stance, or so. I have profest it more for Noblemen, and
Gentlemens use, than mine own practice, I assure you.
Hostess, accommodate us with another Bed-staff here,
quickly: Lend us another Bed-staff. The Woman does
not understand the words of Acton. Look you, Sir
Exalt not your point above this state, at any hand, and
let your poynard maintain your defence, thus: (give
it the Gentleman, and leave us) so, Sir. Come on: O,
twine your body more about, that you may fall to a
more sweet, comly, gentleman-like guard, so indifferent.
Hollow your body more Sir, thus. Now, stand fast o'
your left Leg, note your Distance, keep your due pro-
portion of Time Oh, you disorder your point,
Mat. How is the bearing of it, now, Sir?
Bob. O, out of measure ill! A well experienc'd hand
would pass upon you at pleasure.
Mat. How mean you, Sir, pass upon me?
Bob. Why thus, Sir (make a thrust at me) come in
upon the answer, controul your Point, and make a full
carreer at the Body. The Best-practis'd Gallants of the
Time, name it the passada: a most desperate thrust, be-
Mat. Well, come, Sir.
Bob. Why, you do not manage your Weapon with a-
ny facility or grace to invite me! I have no Spirit to play
with you. Your dearth of Judgment renders you
Mat. But one venue, Sir.
Bob. Venue! Fie. Most gross denomination, as ever I
heard. O, the stoccata, while you live, Sir. Note that.
Come, put on your Cloak, and we'll go to some private
place, where you are acquainted, some Tavern, or so
and have a bit I'le send for one of these Fencers, and
he shall breath you, by my direction; and, then, I will
teach you your trick. You shall kill him with it, at the
first, if you please. Why, I will learn you by the true
judgment of the Eye, Hand, and Foot, to controul any
Enemies Point i' the World. Should your Adversary con-
front you with a Pistol, 'twere nothing, by this hand;
you should, by the same Rule, controul his Bullet, in a
Line; except it were Hail-shot, and spred. What Mo-
ney ha' you about you, Master Matthew?
Mat. Faith, I ha' not past two Shillings, or so.
Bob. 'Tis somewhat with the least: but come. We
will have a bunch of Radish, and Salt, to taste our
Wine; and a Pipe of Tabacco, to close the Orifice of the
Stomach: and then we'll call upon young Wellbred.
Perhaps we shall meet the Coridon, his Brother there, and
put him to the question.