Hans Beer-Pot his inuisible comedie, of see me, and see me not Actedin the Low Countries, by an honest company of health-drinkers.

See mee, and ſee mee not. Enter Hans Beerepotte ſinging a verſe or two of a Song, &c. YOunker, I come, your Father ſends me foorth, To ſell his corne, and bring him money in, Each day he walkes, and pryes, and lookes about With watchfull eyes, and euer in miſtruſt, Leaſt that my Dame,or I his truſty man, Should nimme from him, or put vp more then right; I by my Dame am watcht, and ſhee by him, And twixt them both in equall ballance hangs Poore Hans their man, their wakefull Argos eyes, Doe ſeldome winke, yet muſt I haue a tricke To make large meaſure, fill the buſhell full, And iogge it ſoft vnſeene, while they looke on, And ſtill cry out for more, the meaſures ſcant; And then the ouerplus. Cornelius within. What Hans, Come heere. Hans.

My Maſter calles, and I muſt needes be gone. Exit.

Enter Hanneke ſola. Han. As God doth bleſſe the earth with great encreaſe, And in great meaſure ſends vs ten for one: So muſt thoſe bleſſings carefully be kept, And not with wretchleſſe heed, let runne at large, For ſo huge heapes of wealth conſume to nought, And like fayre buildings vnrepayrde, decay. Yet muſt not beaſtly miching niggardize, Cauſe vs forget our ſelues, and thoſe that want, But giue releefe from our aboundant ſtore: We haue enough, our charge it is not great, One daughter ſhee's beſtowed richly, and Her portion payde, no penny more in debt, Two ſonnes beſides, and they prouided for; The yongſt at Schoole, the other trayles a Pyke, And for preferment lookes each day, each houre: What friendſhip fayles, his fathers purſe ſupplyes; He doth not want, nor ſhall, nor haue too much To pleaſe the fancies of vnbrideled youth: Mine husband bids him vſe his meanes, no doyt That he will ſend him, but alas poore I, Muſt licke my cream-pots, ſhake my winnow ſheet And all for coyne, and often ſend him ſome. Mine husband ſees and knowes, yet nothing ſayes, But is content with what he thinkes I doe; My man playes faſt and looſe, I ſee it too, And nothing ſay, for why, the knaue is true, And wrongs vs not one croſſe, but what he gets Is for my ſonnes, not for himſelfe, I am ſure. I ſee, but ſee not, giue him oft a ſhilling, Becauſe to doe for mine, he is ſo willing. What Hans? Enter Hans. Your ſeruant at commaund, To runne, to ride, to goe by day or night. Han. How now ſir ſauce, your tong ſo early glyb; What though the dayes be ſhort, theres time enough Ere night to make your pate ring noone. Hans. Indeed, Madame, you neuer ſaw me drunke as yet, So much as to forget that due reſpect I owe your ſeruice. Han. Well ſir, then be gone, Make haſte, diſpatch, and get you to the towne; Looke to your buſineſſe, what you buy and ſell; But ere you goe, take that and giue my ſonne. Han. The heauens bleſſe you miſtreſſe, that ſayre hand, Once more for the Se • ieant. Hann. Away you Knaue, Take that Dutch ſhilling, drinke mongſt your Comrades. Exit. Han • . Shees gone, the beſt that euer trode on ſhooe: I would not change my life to be Lord Mayor Of the thy crowne of London: my ſeruice 〈◊〉 freedome, labour but a pleaſure, 〈…〉 what I aske, but halfe a word, Tis done, ſhe knew my mind, I would I haue ſayd, That with the Serieant I muſt cracke a pot, But 〈◊〉 I could bringt out, ſhe ſtopt my mouth With Knaue and ſhilling too: well let her doot As often as ſhee will, See who gets moſt Of ſhee or I. He ſings. As I went to Walſingham, To that holy Land, Met I with an olde balde Mare, By the way as I came. Indeed you doe full little thinke, how I Am taken vp mongſt Souldiers in the towne; Hans Beere pot is a man of note, well knowne To all vnder the degree of Officers. But Serieant Goodfellow, I loue him beſt; And why? becauſe he loues my maſters ſonne▪ My Maſter loues him too, for his honeſty And neuer ſees him, but he giues him gold, And ſends him much prouiſion for his houſe; Heele drinke his cuppe, ſweares not & hates a whore, Which if he vſde, I am ſure my maſter Brookes not the company of any ſuch To haunt his ſonne: but with an angry frowne, Would looke vpon him: for he and Beeremonde Are the onely lads of all the Garriſon; I come my laddes, my markets once ore-paſt, At Flutterkins weele haue one brideling caſt. Exit. Enter Cornelius with his wife. Come wife, helpe me on with my bande: indeede This fayre morning inuites me take the paines To walke on foot, and ſee the towne, viſite My friends, & children, drinke ſome Spaniſh wine: And why, that wine? I am not yet growne olde, I can beſtride, a bouncing Gennet ſtill, And with mine arme to fruſh a ſturdie launce. Hann. Talke you no more of martiall exerciſe, Good Sir, but take you to your Country Farme, Keepe you at home, leaue that to younger blouds, Your ſonne is young enough, let him goe foorth, And proue his fortune mongſt thoſe armed troupes, I am contented, God his will be done. Corn. I thinke deere wife thou ſpeakſt more then thou thinkſt. Thou wouldſt be loath to aduenture him ſo much. Hann. Not I ſweet Sir, for God is God at ſea, And land, a God alwayes omnipotent; He can defend him from the gaping iawes Of roaring Canons mouth, that dreadfull flaſh Cannot come neere him, if it be his will; Yet if he die, ti's honours lofty bedde That ſhall entombe him, then I care the leſſe. Cor. Well ſpoke, braue Laſſe, I thinke faire Pallas ſhine, Begirt thy temples with her glorious rayes, At thy dayes birth, the wonder of thy ſexe. Hann. How now my Loue, what do you Court mee ſtill? This Phraſe befits not, twixt a man and wife, Tis time for you to leaue ſuch courting tearmes, Cor. What courting calſt thou them, thou rubſt me vp, To thinke vpon the times forepaſt, I ſaw In Englands Court ſo famous and renowmde Of great Elizaes bleſſed memory. That ayded ſo theſe troubled Netherlands With men and money; ſtill oh, oh ſtill me thinkes I ſee thoſe Worthies marching on earthes ſtage; The famous Eſſex, Norreis, Sidney too, And wiſeſt Ʋere, that held Oſtend ſo long, Gainſt hells foule mouth, and Spaniſh tyranny, As yet his complices can teſtifie. That ſaw his works beyond the bounds of witte, That now doe liue in noble fame and name; Whom Ile ore-paſſe, for feare I ſhould offend. Hann. Offend not then (my Spouſe) I counſell you, But leaue the mighty to their beſt contents, And paſſe in ſilence, what they haue to doe; Let vs not meddle with the Magiſtrate, But ſee, vnſeene, and hope for whats the beſt. Cor. What hath Apollos ſacred Oracle Infuſde thy Soule with high Diuinity, Or deeper iudgements, of I know not what, Made thee know more then thy fraile ſexe ſhould do I wonder: lets along, weele to the towne, Where I not doubt but I ſhall find your ſonne A drinking, not at's booke. Hann. What if you doe? The elder Prieſt forgets that he was Clerke, When you were young, you did as he now does. Cor. Tis true indeed, but yet Ile tell thee what, Twas ſtrange to ſee a younker once but drunke In Englands Kingdome, when I liued there, For to be drunke, was beggar like they ſayde, Now Beggars ſay they are drunke like Gentlemen, 〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉 As ſince I haue heard an old fantaſtique rime, That thus imports if I be not deceiude. Gentlemen are ſicke, and Parſons ill at eaſe, But Seruing men are drunke, and all haue one diſeaſe. Han. God bleſſe my ſon from ſuch baſe foolerie, As to delight in drinke, a beaſtly ſinne, Yet with a friend, to drinke a cuppe or more, Ile not finde fault, the times are now growne ſuch. Cor.

Well wife, giue but an inch, hee takes an elue.

Han. What then? his nature, education, Compoſde him otherwiſe, you did your part To giue him learning, which will make him know The good from euill: but his blooming youth May be corrupted by bad company; But that he ſeekes not, loues not, flyes as much As in him lyes, I heard't with comfort too, Elſe would I not. Cor, My deare, what would you doe, Or not doe, Womens witleſſe wilfull will, Is ſtrange ſometimes, with reaſon limitleſſe. Hann

I will not tell you.

Cor.

Why?

Hann.

Becauſe I will not.

Cor. A reaſon reaſonleſſe, Women, Haue oft ſuch reaſon, for their wilfulneſſe, When as they ouerth wart their too kind husbands In things not meere indifferent, elſe Hann. What elſe? Somtimes we know more then our husbands think, And giue aduiſe worthy to be followde, Not to be ſcorned, or to be contemnde In weighty matters, matters of eſtate, As 〈…〉 wife to great 〈◊〉 ; and Neroes mother too, Another Agrippina, leſſe vertuous, But wiſe and politicke, one that knew much, And that great Queene, the Queene of Caria, Nauſolus wife, the wonder of her time. And ſhe whom former times nere paraleld, She whom you namde but now. Cor. O ſtay, my wife, Your mouth runs ore, ſhe makes all women proud; Are you ſo read in Romane Hiſtories? And I not know it: Welcome to the towne; Weele to your daughter ſtraight, ſheele be at home, I hope, where ere her thriuing husband be. Exeunt. Muſicke. Enter Paſquill. My backe thin cloathde, my belly thinner linde, Keepes out no colde, I like not I theſe plankes, But when my belly is full of double Beere; Oh then I ſleepe like to mine Hoſteſſe Pigges, And feele no colde, nor hardneſſe; Feather-beds, Stand further off, three ſtiuers and a halfe, The canne of Engliſh Beere: my money's ſpent; Pay dayes to morrow: tut, hangt, to day, Ile ſhifte, But yet were younker Harmants here; one can, My mornings draught were good; or if to day Hans Beere-pot come to towne: Oh furious Mars, Hees come, his Waggons yonder, now cock-ſure, For this whole day I am prouided for. Enter the Marchant, Maſter Garland, and clappe him on the ſhoulder. Good morrow Paſquill, where's my brother, where's That Younker? and the Serieant Goodfellow. Paſ. You are welcome ſir, what M. Garland? I'ſt you, you know my mind; one tooth is drie, Since yeſternight I haue not had one drinke; I am ſo colde. Gar.

Why doſt not anſwere me?

Paſ. What did you ſay? ſure I remember not; My wits want freſhing. Gar. I will thraſh them ſtreight With good ſtrong Beere, one cup will do no harm. Paſ.

Will driue cold out, and keep my belly warm.

Gar. What riming ſo earely, and thine eyes not Waſhed yet: but where is Younger Harmants? Where's his Companion, Serieant Goodfellow? Paſ Faſt a ſleepe, his troubled head is ſo vext With this worlds cares. Gar.

What both.

Paſq. The Serieant, him Lonely meane, lyes ſleeping yet within; Ile call him to you, if you will goe drinke. Gar.

Not elſe.

Paſ. Yes that I will, and more then that; Ile doe for you, or for your Brothers ſake; Like burning Drakes ile ſplit the empty ayre, And run through thicke or thin, at noon or night: If you commaund, poore Paſquill will obey. Gar.

Where didſt thou learn ſuch high ſtilde complements?

Paſ. Out from the ſmoaking of my Muſquets mouth Fetcht from the fragments of ſome Poetrie: My nimble Muſe comes from the Aquilone, And flaps her wings gainſt Auſters frothy beard; While Eurus blaſts doe pinch my tender ſides. And gentle Zephir, glads the Seamans heart; Driuing his ſhippe, croſſe Neptunes foaming front. Gar. How now turnde Poet, or turnde Coniurer; Stares not mine hayre: ſhall I be ſcarred hence: Ile make a circle leaſt Hobgoblin come, Paſ. You are diſpoſde to ieſt M. Ganland. I haue many ſuch conceites without booke. Gar. Of thine owne making ſure, they doe ſo well Concurre in ſweeteſt Diapaſon. Paſq. Die a pace on ſir: whats that? That's quite paſt The reach or Center of my ſhallow braine: But ſince with termes you thinke to put me down: Once more haue at you, ile not yeeld it ſo. Then did he make Heauens vault to rebound, With rounce, robble hobble, With riffe raffe, roaring, thwick, thwack, Thurlerie bouncing. Ga. O Heauens! why made you night to couer ſin? Had it been day, ſuch things had neuer beene. Paſ. Once more with patience, ſilence, & be ſtill: You ſhall haue Rhetoricke gainſt your will. Mount thee my Phlegon Muſe, and teſtifie How Saturne ſitting on an Ebon cloud, Diſroabde his Podex, white as Iuorie, And through the Welkin thundered all aloud. Gar. Reade thou my riddle, & take thou my fidle •• I met a man that wept and wailde, I greeu'd to ſee him how he aylde; He fared ſtrangely, in ſuch taking; He ſaid he was not of Gods making. Paſq. The Cuckow ſings not worth a groat, Becauſe ſhe neuer changeth note: The man you ſpeake of, young or olde, Indeed he is a plaine Cucquolde. Gar. O brains of a Burbate, wooll of an Owle: Where hadſt thou ſo much wit? now tell me thine. Paſ. My Grandame taught me, & I learnt by heart This riddle of Saturnes far-fetcht ſigh, But here me Sir, you know that honeſt man M. Flutterkin our Iouiall Hoaſt. Gar. Goe ſeeke my brother out, and then I will, Shew thee the way, and giue thee thy deſire. Paſq. I muſt not ſtirre without my Corporall Giues his conſent, I muſt not ſo offend For feare the varuels catch me by the feet. Gar. Goe to the Serieant, I dare warrant thee, And tell him that I ſtay to ſpeake with him. Pa. Swifter then thought, your errand ſhal be done Exit. Enter Serieant Good-fellow, and Paſquill, walking by the Guard dore. Serieant Goodfellow. Good morrow M. Garland, what abroad So earely, can you leaue ſo ſweet a Froe; By giſſe I ſweare, were I ſo fayrely wedde, This houre yet would I haue kept my bed. Ga. Good morrow Serieant, dreaming, yet not wakt You are miſtaken man, you ſee not well, Such ware's not daintie, though you thinke it deere, Where is enough, and market all the yeere. Ser. I am glad to ſee you in ſo pleaſant vaine; I hope we ſhall haue a merry day on't. Gar.

Deed, Paſquill and I haue beene riming.

Ser. What? That prety Stripling, that mad Paſtie-cruſt, He rimeth beſt with lugge or Pewter-can, And oft doth quarrell with our honeſt Hoaſt For ſpiced Ale, that hiſſeth with a toſte: But let theſe matters paſſe, Ile tell you newes; Laſt night your brother and I fell flat out About an Argument we ſtifly helde Which ſeruice was beſt on horſebacke, or on foot: But what ſay you? Gar.

For Horſemen tooth and nayle.

Ser. He calde me aſſe, but ſince one predicament Containes vs both, I care not Ile not yeeld; You know hees learned, had I but ſo much, Ide make him fret, and ſtampe, and ſcratch his head; Doe you but ſecond me, ile vexe him yet. Paſ.

While you do talke, then I am ſure of drinke.

Gar.

Let Paſquill ſeeke him.

Ser. Sirra, make haſte, runne; My Captaine calde him, when I went to ſleepe. Paſ. I goe, I runne, I haſte, I skippe, I flye; With nimbler heeles then ere did Mercurie. Ser. Ah poti maia ſitis, how faſt he Runnes for the liquours ſake; now thinkes he, To ſtuffe his guts with Huffcappe Engliſh Beere; But heare me Sir, lets walke in the Church-yard Vntill he comes againe; for I muſt thinke My ſelfe of pro and con, whats to be done Againſt this luſty Younker; Oh hee's heere. Enter Younker Harmanis. Good morrow brother Garland, why did you Send Paſquill for me poſting in ſuch haſte; What is my Siſter ſicke, or your young ſonne, Or ſome miſfortune happened, that I know Not of as yet, vnto your houſe or goods, Or ſhippes at Sea: Speake, I am in ſuſpence. What? doe you foole me, flout me to my face; Is that for my good will? why then farewell. Gar. Be not ſo angry brother, I proteſt, I laugh not at you, but at Paſquill, what Sayde he to you, what meſſage did he bring? Youn. The foole comes gaping, ſets vp ſuch a throate, Staring ſo madly, as if foule Cerberus From pitchy Acheron, were come to affright Poore men on earth: or elſe ſome accident Of wonder ſtrange, worſe then a blazing ſtarre, Had made men gaze, I know not what to thinke: You ſent him for me, and I muſt come ſtreight: I muſt not ſtay; my Captaine askt him, what The matter was: if the towne were on fire: Theres fire in the towne, quoth he, quite out Of breath and wit, forgets to moue his cappe, Cryes out on's throat, that it was almoſt burnt With ſoote and ſmoake, and duſt I know not what: My Captaine gaue him twelue pence, bad him goe And waſh his face, he lookt ſo reechilie, Like Bacon hanging on the Chimnies roofe; Faring ſo ghaſtly, that we both did thinke, Him worſe then mad. Gar.

But whether is he gone?

Youn. Ile tell you, as we croſt the market place, He ſpyes my Fathers man, and then from me, He flings as faſt, as erſt did Hercules, Send that his faſteſt ſhafts to Neſſus ſide; When he from him ſtole Deianira fayre For whom he loſt his life: I ſaw my youth, And lookt behind, to ſee what they would doe; In at next Tap-houſe, round as Iuglers boxe, Went they two firſt, and then two Souldiers more. Ga. Why then your Captains piece is half conſumd By this; if he haue got ſuch company. Youn. Twill not belong, I am ſure, befort be drownde, Foure men foure Cans, whats that, but foure faire draughts. Ser. Yea for a Brewers horſe, not for his man: Oh my rumbling guts doe ake to thinke ont; A Canne a draught, I neuer ſawe't but once, And then I thought that man had burſt his guts; His eye-balls ſtarted, as the ſtrings were crackt; And though ſometimes I loue to drinke my pot, Strong drinke ſhould neuer more goe down with me, Before i'de ſwill ſo much at ſuch huge draughts; One ciuill glaſſe or two, that warms my bloud, It is enough, me thinkes. Younk. Why? now I know, Thou art not tong-tyde Serieant, els I thought It had been pawndith Lumbard for two doytes: Ile buy a Calues tongue for foure, thats good meate For them that loue it. Ser. Why? theres none but Calues Refuſe good meat, or offered curteſies, Yon.

Why? how now Serieant, do you cal me calfe?

Ser. No ſir, not I, but by chance ſpeake of them, As by the way you light vpon their tongues. Gar. So now the game begins: flie to him, giue Him not one ynche, let him weare gold that winnes It firſt: ſhrinke backe, I will neuer owne thee For a Serieant. Ser. Now we are two to one, I care not. Younk. What ſayſt, thou ſpeakſt Ebrew, Greeke, Or Engliſh, Welſh, I know not what thou meanſt. Ser.

Sauf voſtre grace, vous estes bien venuz.

Youn. Hangs the French Ideon at thy tongs end too Speake two words more, ile make thee Port-enſeigne Si ce iemais aduient, en ma puiſſance. Ser.

Perform your words, and then I ſweare, I wil.

Younk.

I will.

Ser.

Sweare firſt, ile not beleeue you elſe.

Younk.

Without an oath I will.

Ser. Why, heare you then; Admiranda canunt, ſed non credenda Poetae. Younk.

Thats Latine Serieant, wiſeman, thats not French.

Ser. You namde no language, bid me ſpeake two wordes, And you would doo't, ile be iudgde by all Here preſent, if the wager be not wonne. Ile get a ſtaffe, the colours they are mine. Gar. Tis well ſayde Serieant, I am on thy ſide, Ile beare thee witneſſe they are thine by right. Youn. Though I meant French, yet will I yeeld, I loſt; Take thou the colours, I beſtow them free, In my conceit, as ere did Emperour, Ser. I thanke your greatneſſe in conceit, I doe enioy them, and I reſt content. Gar. A good conceit, for now me thinks I ſee, The Serieant Enſeigne, onely in conceit Stept vp in place, and office of commaund; I ſee, but ſee not, what I hope to ſee; That once performde which now is but conceit. Ser. I thanke you M. Garland, your good word, Is euer preſt to doe an honeſt man good, For my preferment thinke you would disburſe A ſcore of pounds; or ſo, wert come to that, Rather then I ſhould fayle. Gar. Sure that I would; Thou ſhouldſt not want to furniſh thy conceites; If I haue golde and ſiluer at commaund, Tis ready: Serieant I would doe thee good; Get thou a place, trie thy friends, thou ſhalt ſee What I will doe. Ser. I thanke God and friends, tis done; I haue bethought me, you ſhall ſee ere long A Metamorphoſis of me reformde. Younk.

Tranſformde, thou wouldſt ſay.

Ser. Call you it transformde; Transformde, reformde; or call it how you will: I doe remember what I learn't at Schoole In Ouid: Oh theſe verſes made me whipte; In noua fert animus, mutatas dicere formas Corpora Dij caeptis, nam vos mutaſtis & illas, Aſpirate meis. Gar. Let thee alone Serieant, thou wilt be like To Paſquill, wilde as a Bucke, or Liueret Bred in March: this or be it not containes thee When thy braines flow with skilfull Poeſie; Haſt thou forgot what we came hither for. Youn. I like thee Serieant, when thou bringſt out paires Of Verſes; one and ſingles alone is not So good; as when by two and two in rankes, They march in order: then they pleaſe mine eares. Se. You want a fellow to my tother verſe, Doe you not. Youn. Yes marry doe I, make but one To wipe my mouth, like to the firſt, I ſweare, Ile giue thee a payre of good ſtagges leather gloues. Ser. A match tis done, ile fit you preſently; M. Garland will you ſee it performde? Gar.

Vpon mine honeſt word, I will.

Ser. Why then, I haue it by this time: ſince your mouth is cleane; My noble Younker, wipe your noſe with this; Sic faciunt ſtulti, quos gloria vexat inanis. Youn. You haue hit me home with your Rhinoceros Did neere make that, that famous learned Knight, Sir Philip Sidney, Scholers, ſouldiers pride Was his, not yours. Ser. What, though he made that verſe, Thoſe words were made before, he made them not; Twas well I hapt on his inuentions. Youn. Good wits doe iumpe, good witty, witles ſir: You hatch thoſe egges that other birds haue layde: I bid you make me one, by your owne wit. Ser. Why ſo I did, that which ſir Philip made, Is now grown olde, and like my Fathers gowne, Spunne, weaude, and made, boue foureſcore yeares agoe; But this I made is new: as freſh as May Or flowres in Iune, or egges, but this day ſprung, A plaine caſe Younker: ſir the gloues are mine Vpon your honeſt word: foreſtoe you dat, A marchants word, no price ſet downe, ile haue Them richly made, with golde and ſilken fringe. Younk. I think the Serieant is grown Mountebancke To cling by ſhifts, hey paſſe, paſſe, Italian grown; a ſharking Charlatan. Ser. Italian, Spaniſh, Engliſh, Dutch, or French; Sharke what you will, you ſhall not ſharke me out Of my ſtagges leather gloues with Charlatan: Your Glouer knowes my hand M. Garland, To morrow morning earely, Charlatan Goes for his gloues, looke to the payment ſir, Your honeſt words at ſtake; tis good I know, You'l keepe it ſure, a marchant breake his word, His credits gone, no not for twice ſo much. Gar. Go fetch thy gloues, ile ſee the Glouer payde: Brother, tis loſt, you ſhall pay me againe. Younk. Vpon condition I will be content, So he will make me but one true French verſe. Ser.

I will and if I can.

Gar. Yea, thats well ſayd; That can was well. Ser. I can and will; not for nought; My learning coſt me ſomething; and my wit Workes quicke and nimbly, if ought be to be got, The Romane Conſuls after victories, Did crowne with Bayes triumphant Conquerours. Set but a prize, auferre gloriam Infuſeth ſpirit to a working braine, Gar.

It ſhall be done, what iſt?

Ser.

Why what you will.

Gar.

A payre of Garters.

Ser. Garters? yea content. I want a payre; What gloues and garters too, I roſe on the right ſide to day I am ſure. Yo.

What time, a bargain wiſely made's halfe won.

Ser. Ere you can go to Flutterkins mine Hoaſt, And come againe, or elſe ile leeſe two faunes, Or Beere, or Claret wine, or Spaniſh wine. Youn.

Beere, what Beere, Scar-Beere?

Ser.

No of Engliſh Beere.

Youn. Ile not goe thither, I was there too late, Ere I can tell threeſcore diſtinctly: ſay A match; Ile tell them plainely, one by one. Ser.

Agreed, begin.

Youn.

Ile tell then, ſhall I?

Ser.

Yes.

Young.

One, two, three, foure.

Ser.

Ieſuis.

Youn. Seuen, eight. Nine, ten, eleuen, twelue, thirteen, foureteen, fifteene. Ser. Soft, you are too haſty for a pariſh Prieſt, I am ſure of your good word; fiue and ſixe Are loſt, are they nothing: tell rightly, tell on, And do your worſt: ſome honeſt French man lend Me but one hanſome word or two. Younk.

Thirty.

Ser. I. Gods me, halfe out, but two words yet, Voſtre. Gar.

Thou make a verſe, then ile bake in a well.

Ser.

There,s one word more, humble, nay treſhumble

Younk.

Fifty.

Ser. Seruiteur, life of my life, tis out: Be it what it will, ſtand on thine euen feet; Then gloues and garters both are quickly wonne. Youn.

Brother, you haue loſt.

Ser.

Then know I who muſt winne.

Gar. Ile not beleeue you, I will haue it ſcande, Let them that know ſpeake true: is it good French. Youn. Ie ſuis voſtre treſhumble ſeruiteur. The verſe is true, conſiſting of fiue feet; The caſe is plaine in common lawe: no booke Can ſaue you: Serieant thou haſt won; the garters They are thine. Ser. Younker, tis well; and your gloues too; Both gloues and garters, they are fayrely wonne; Scratch not your head, its but a Iacobin At moſt; Come let vs in to Flutterkins, A cuppe and toſte will doe me now no hurt. Younk. Why then farewell, I care not I for Beere, My Captaine gaue me ſome Canarie wine: The Churle he ſhall not ride the Gentleman. Ser. You ſhall not flinch, if that your cap be wool, You ſhall along; What, would you leaue vs ſo; Turnde Micher, that were not tollerable. Younk. I will goe with thee, doe but promiſe mee, Rightly to conſtrue thoſe lines of Ouids, Which thou readſt but now. Ser. I will, then let vs hence; I thanke great Ioue that bleſt me ſo this day; How others ſpeed, I beare the prize away. Exeunt. Enter Hans and Paſquill. Paſ. This way he went, and here they were ere while, But now they are fledde like birds that cut the ayre, With clipping wings, and leaue no trace behind. But Hans my noſe is quicke and ſharpe of ſent, Like thoſe great Beares in noua Zembla found, Whoſe ſmelling ſence was better then their ſight. I cannot ſee, but ſmell where they are gone. Hans. Whether doſt thou thinke? ſtreight to Flutterkins, My iouiall Hoaſt that longs to ſee my face, My beauteous face, my proper phyſnomie; I ſoone deſpatcht, ſolde all my corne at once, And bought my meate. Paſq. As ſtreight as Circes vvande, Not looking backe, as oft Meander doth, Hans. What of Meander? now my things be done, I care not, ile goe where thou wilt; lets on; But whats Meander? man, or mayde, or wife. Paſq. A riuer foole, didſt neuer ſee a play, Or heare theſe verſes which I haue by heart. Whats he that talketh of the bankes of Poe, And of the milk-white ſwans that in Meander ſwam Ile downe from hence and ſcoure the Stygian lake: To raiſe a fiend ſhall make his ſoule to quake. Hanſ. O terrible, my Miſtreſſe ſent you that, And bid you drinke it, not to hoorde it vp. Paſ.

An Engliſh ſhilling: hey; did ſhe indeed?

Hans.

Why Widgin, thinkſt thou I would giue thee't elſe?

Paſ. Ile drinke her health vpon my bended knees, Vntill the Welkin roare, and ground lookes blew; Two ſhillings haue I, not one penny ſpent; I bleſſe my ſtarres, good fortune ſet me free; This dayes mine owne. He skippes, or capers. Hans. Take heed, your ſupple ioynts Are tender, Bones are ſoone thruſt out: a vvrinch Comes quickly. Paſq. I am free from poxe, good face. Hans. If they be free from thee, it skils the leſſe: Doe you remember, how you ſerude me once, When to the Leaguer I was ſent from home With ſome prouiſion to my maſters ſonne; You brought me to a vvhore, a Leaguer vvhore; Such ſtuffe blinde Polipheme would loath to touch: An wholeſome piece, I neere loude Mutton ſince. Neere bluſh for ſhame. Paſq. Twas for thine honeſty; Now its on record, tis prooud, tis paſt the tutch. Hans. Can you accuſe me? no, and ſpeake but true. Paſ. I ſaw no hurt, ile ſayt, and ſweare it too: But good cauſe why; thou couldſt nor go, nor ſtand Thou wert ſo drunke: vnfit for Venus game, A cart became thee better then a Coach. Hans. Why thou telſt all, thou mightſt haue hid ſome part, And no I haue ſhamde me ſo fore company, But ile requite you, if I liue ten dayes. It was no maruell, I will tell thee reſt. As through the campe I paſt in ſtrange amaze, Driuing mine Aſſe before me with his load; I thought to be deuoured Aſſe and all By hungry ſouldiers, they did looke ſo thinne: My heeles they were flung vp, and headlong I, Fell on a Sutlers hut a fortnights ſpace, I had no legs, nor could I quit that place. Paſq. What wert thou ſhot? Hans. And lamde: you know too well, The grieuous moane our Alips made for me, Alaſſe, poore gyrle, ſhe thought I had been ſlaine, But had the Bullet hit me, as the winde, Poor Beere-pot had been ſquaſht, theſe hanſom lims Had flowne in pieces, nor ſplinter left vnbroke. Paſ. That had been pitty, which way went the ſhot Hans, To Callais as I thinke, or further off, I ſcapt I am ſure, that dreadfull malling knocke. Paſ. O hold my head my thumbe begins to ake, From hence to France if this be not a lye. Hans. Is that good manners for to take my tale, Out of my mouth, before I make an end. Paſ. I haue no manners: had I ſuch an one As Amptill is, to which ſeuen Parkes belong, I would keepe thee to be my worſhips foole. Hans.

Why? where is Amptill.

Paſ. In the Fayery land. Where men eate mutton, pigge, and gooſe, and beefe, Rabbets and chickens, partridge, pheaſants, quailes, And drinke rich wine, that France or Spaine ſends in, And ſtrong March Beere, of fiue or ſixe yeeres old, But on with thy tale. Hans. Ile hang thee firſt, The Fayery land, wheres that? I am with child, Good Paſquill tell me quickely, elſe I die; My mind is rauiſht from this lower Orbe, Paſ. Tis not farre of, weele goe to Flutterkins, And talke more on't. Hans, Why then thou winſt my heart, I long to ſeet, to taſte ſuch wine, ſuch cheere, But more, I long for ſuch vnheard of Beere. Exeunt. Enter the Moore ſinging a verſe or two of a Song. If that I ſpeake my language naturall, I thinke theres few that vnderſtands it here: Its Hebers tongue left with the Abderites; Heſtron, pangaeon, cacobomboton, Aphnes halenon, Mydras, myphraſman, tyltura, pantha, teman, Hogdon, camthompos, parathaſta pidarda laronta, Clastriae campharides, bulgida bartra bela. I am a Moore borne in Numedia, Parcht with the ſuns extreame and ſcorching heate; My mothers name Abdela Sydan hight, My Father was Don Ian de Ʋechia, A noble Spaniard, braue Caſtilian: I ſerude the King of ſwart Numidia, And did commaund ten thouſand barbarous horſe For two whole yeares; and then my fathers loue Drew me from thence to ſeeke mount Atlas out; And ſo to Spaine: my Marchant playde the iade, And hoyſted ſayles for great Byzantiums towne; From whence I ranne, and ſo through Germanie, With vveary ſteps I poaſted to this place. If that you aske my name, and faine would know, It is Don Abendaraes Quixot, A Spaniard, Moore, halfe Turke, halfe Chriſtian, How ere my fleſh eſcapte the whizzing ſhot, My tatterde doublet ſure, eſcaped not. He ſings. Exit. Enter Ioaſh Flutterkin. Good Wine, good Beere, they ſay, it needs no buſh; Yet haue I lookt abroad, and no man comes; I haue ore-peerde the market hill quite round, My goodly front, mine eyes, my neateſt bearde. My well fed corps: vvhy, theſe are Adamants To draw mens minds to lend me many a looke, But yet (none heares) all paſſe, none ſteps aſide, The ſoaring Falcon ſtoopes not at my lure, But clippes her wings, flees on, heedes not her prey, I ſee no Younker, nor no Serieant yet; But Hans is buſie with his maſters corne, His Markets done, I am ſure he will be here, O theres a man liues brauely, keepes an houſe, Releeues the poore, his gates be neuer ſhut; His tables free, theres meat for honeſt men: He liude in England, learnt that countryes guiſe, For Hoſpitality, few ſuch be here: Yet frugall too, was neuer prodigall, Spends nothing more, but what he well may ſpare, He borrowes nought, nor lends on vſurie: Yet hath ynough. Enter Younker. Marchant, and the Serieant. Younk. Mine Hoaſt, vvhat all alone? And market day, why this is wondrous ſtrange. Flut. My noble Younker: Welcome Gentlemen, I want ſuch gueſts, heeres beere was neuer drunke, Freſh ſet a broach: puts downe the Diamont For liuely ſparkling: of tranſparent view, More cleare then amber, or faire orient pearle, Fetcht from the fartheſt Inde, Younk.

How now mine Hoſte?

Gar. Spare ſo much curteſie, leſt we ſuſpect Some hidden craft. Flut. In me? you know me well, Plaine Flutterkin, a downe, right dealing man, I haue no guardes to ſet me brauely out; But what I thinke I ſpeake, and freely too, Without deceit or ſimulation. Ga.

Why then two cans of your beſt Engliſh beere

Flut.

It ſhall be done with much celerity.

He goeth out for Beere. Youn. Come Serieant, I muſt haue conſtruction Of Ouids verſes, ile not bate an ace Before you drinke, I will not ſtay ſo long. Ser. You are too haſty, ſpare me yet a while, And then ile fit you. Younk. Pray thee quicke, diſpatch, I haue ſome buſineſſe calls me ſoone from hence. Ser.

Thinke you I cannot, am I ſuch a foole?

Younk.

I know not truly, but I loue to learne,

Ser. Why then giue eare, take heed, & marke me well, You often watch to take me at the worſt; But Ile barre that, Ile haue no cunning tricke. Fert animus; my mind prouokes me: Dij Coeptis aſpirate meis: Yee gods Bleſſe my proceedings: dicere, to ſpeake Of: Corpora mutatas: Bodies changde, In noua formas: to new ſhapes: nam vos Mutaſtis & illas: for you tranſformde Thoſe bodyes ſtrangely; yea and altered ſore Their ſhapes to that they neuer had before. Youn. That ſame addition, addes life to the reſt, And wipes poore Priſcians head, thats fouly broke: Ser.

Why, iſt not right?

Younk.

Yes, there's none can mend it.

Ser. And now ſir, for our other argument, Ile not giue of, before I am ſatiſfied. Gar. Flye to him Serieant, I will take thy part, To ſerue on horſebacke, is beſt ſeruice ſtill, I will maintaine it, while I liue one day. Yon. Gainſt him and you, but giue me leaue to ſpeak, Ile ſhew my reaſons what I thinke are fit. Enter Paſquill and Hans, and Flutterkin followes them with a Canne of Beere in eyther hand. Paſq.

They are here before vs.

Hans. We come in time, Here comes mine hoaſt propt vp between two cans. Hans.

Tha'ts well, all good.

Youn. A payre of prety youthes; Shew me but one ſixe pence Paſquill, then Ile ſay, Thoul't quickly thriue. Paſq. Why, that I can, ſee there. There's foure, and all vnſpent. beleeue your eyes. Youn. God bleſſe mine eyes, but Hans what newes at home. How fares my Parents, are they both in health? Hans. They ſend their bleſſing, but your mothers, it Is to be felt: tis leaquer on de tangde, It cleaues faſt to your palmes: nay ſir, tis gold, The pureſt mettall that the earth affoords. Youn.

Fill out ſome Beere mine Hoaſt.

Flut. Heeres to that hand; That bleſt you ſo with croſſes of that kind. Ser.

It ſhall be pledgde.

Paſ.

Hang him ſayes nay.

Hans.

Not I.

Gar. Nor I, nor hee, but with as good a will, As ere I came from Schoole, with leaue to play. Flut. Then giue me leaue I will begin this round; This ſwelling cuppe I will drinke liuely out, Not one word more, before I ſeet about. Youn. In this ile pleaſe you, but ile drinke no more. They drinke round, the Younker and Serieant riſe from the Table, The queſtion which I proſecute is this, If horſe or foot ſhould haue preheminence: They are needfull both, to make an armie vp: Yet thoſe great Armies which the Tartars vſde, Were all of horſe; ſo were the Perſians Till later times the Engliſh Shirleis taught The vſe of foot, and how to entrench a Campe. What can they doe but in ſuch huge, vaſte plaines, As are Tyrauna, and that Coſſoua So oft made red with Turkes & Chriſtians bloud, And great Pharſalia famous for the fight Twixt Pompey and Caeſar worthy Warriours both, Both which did ſtriue for Romes ſole Monarchie. On mountaines, bogs or woods, or broken rockes: Where are your horſe, ore-turnde and ſwallowed vp What can they doe againſt a ſtand of Pykes, Well linde with ſhot in ſuch vantageous place. Ser. But what ſay you vnto that Perſian Prince That beat the Turke with thirty thouſand horſe, Selim the firſt, the bloudieſt Ottoman Of all his race; who brought into the field Two hundred thouſand ſtrong of horſe and foot. Youn. Indeed you touch me now, that hiſtory, Makes much for you, that Sophy Iſmael, Did meet the tyrant in the open field, Whoſe multitudes did thinke to ſwallow him With open iawes, like to a mighty whale: But as an anker he ſtucke in his throat; And made him kecke and ſhrinke, to quit himſelfe. Gar. As how good brother, I deſire to heare: This likes me well: mine hoſt I drinke to you. Flut. I thanke you ſir, you ſhall not go vnpledgde: Here Paſquill, Hans, you two ſhall haue your ſhares: Both.

We thanke you both, we mean not to refuſe.

Ser. Yea, toot and ſpare not, it will be your owne, Good drink breeds blood, & bloud makes able men Youn. This warlike Prince diuides his troups in two The right hand battle he himſelfe did leade, The left, his vaſſall namde Vſtan Oghlie, When Turkes diuided they did doe the like, And ſo eſcapte the thundering Ordinance. Vnhappy Vſtan could not get ſo cleare As did his Maſter, for the Canon ſhot Fell mongſt his troupes, and did him greater harme. This dreadleſſe Prince with valour brauely armde, Fals on amayne, with Turkiſh routes encloſde On euery ſide, and from each ſide he ſends Such fiery balles, as made them know his force. They forwards ride, and backewards ſend their ſhot On eyther hand, no place from them was free, He onward flings, amongſt the • anizars, The chiefeſt guard that this grand Seigneur hath, And driues them backe within their ſtrongeſt hold, Amongſt their packes, and Camels bound with chaines, No words, nor blowes, nor fayreſt promiſes Could make them budge, or moue, or ſtirre one foot. The wounded Prince, that fainted bleeding ſore, Vnable ſcarce to keepe his Courſers backe, Perceyuing this, with ſlow pac'te ſteps retirde, And wheelde about, leauing his richeſt tents Vnto theyr ſpoyles, that durſt not ſtirre to ſee, For three dayes ſpace, what was become of him. In this I yeelde, the worlds beſt ſeruice knowne That euer Horſemen did, themſelues alone. Ser. Well Younker, haue I catcht you. I am glad Of any thing, wherewith to ſtop your mouth. Youn. Nay ſoft, good Serieant, what can Horſemen doe, Before a towne, when we beleaguer it. They'l ſcale the walles, paſſe trenches, giue aſſaults, Or enter breaches, yes I warrant you. Ser. They ſcoure the Countrey, bring rich booties in, While we lye ſtaruing here, they liue at eaſe, Eate, drinke and ſleepe. Youn. The more they anſwere for: When they ride ſtrugling forth for lawleſſe ſpoyle, Wee keepe our works in daunger night and day, No ſpoyled peaſant cryes on vs for's goods, Nor rauiſht mayde, for loſt Virginity, Nor wronged wife for forc't diſhoneſty. Gar.

What? would you haue no Horſemen then,

Younk. Not ſo. Miſtake me not, but ile not yeeld them chiefe, Each body well compoſde, it doth conſiſte Of diuers members, framde by art, yet naturall; The body where are lodgde the chiefeſt parts, I liken it vnto the Infanterie; The exteriour parts to the Cauallerie. The heart commaunds, the members execute; So they to vs, not we to them giue way. Ser. But where they are alone, all abſolute: What they can doe, againſt your ſelfe you proude. Youn. Why thats Barbarian, and not Chriſtian-like, Where multitude preuayles, not diſcipline, And in ſuch places, as I namde before; As witneſſe are thoſe three dayes cruell fight Huniades maintaind gainſt mighty Amurath The ſecond: in Coſſo • as fatall plaines. He kept an hill with thirty thouſand men; Ten thouſand horſe, the reſt were all on foot Againſt the Turkes that lay like Graſhoppers, Filling thoſe plaines, eight miles in compaſſe round: This little handfull, roulde and turnde about, On that hils top in ſtrong and cloſe array, Flamde like a Candle mongſt a world of flyes, That burnt themſelues, ere they could put it out: At length with trauell tyrde, with blows & wounds All rent and torne, choakt vp with ſmoake & ſtench Of bodies dead: match, poulder, bullets ſpent This light did glimmer, flaſht, and ſo went out▪ Gar.

What did the horſmen there, did none eſcape?

Yon. They quit their horſe, and made them as a wal For their defence, and fought it out on foot, Almoſt to the laſt man, ſome few eſcapte; And ſwamme the riuer, got into a wood Among the which, Huniades was one The halfe beat conquering Turks had all enough, Stood ſtill and gazde, and glad to ſee him gone. Ser. Was not the Seigneur proude, ons victory, Reioycing much at his Hungarian ſpoyles. Youn So proude, he mournd: was ſicke with griefe and hate, Of this his Conqueſt, at ſo deare a rate. Gar. This likes me well, but ere you doe proceed, Ile drinke to you: now am I for the foot, Heeres to you all, my noble Fantaſſines. Paſq. Sir, one health more, your Fathers health, I meane, That good olde man, he muſt not be forgot. Youn.

Drink't out I pray thee, I will haue no more.

Paſ. Were you a Younker, made of beaten golde, You ſhould haue this; What nor your Fathers health? Youn. No, not his health▪ to drinke away mine owne▪ But drinke to Hans, I ſee by his lips hee's drie; He wants it, I doe not, heele drinke for me, Or to the Serieant, he can get no drinke. Paſq. Nor him, nor he, ile drinke to none but you, Ile keepe my man, I learn't that tricke at Schoole. Youn. Am I your man, god Bacchus, toſſepot Knight, Would glaſſe and drinke were both beſides thy guts; I tell thee, ile no more. Flutt. Come Paſquill, I Will pledge thee, I can yet hold out, two cups, Two ſlaſhes on the legs will not be felt. I am as ſtrong as Hercules neere out. Ser. Why how now Hans? what Planet ſtrucke? quite mute, Or Bagge-pype-like, not ſpeake before thou art full, Not one wiſe word; why, where is all thy mirth. Hans. Nor ſo, nor ſo, I can ſpeake yet, if neede, I heare, I ſee, yet nothing ſay at all: Mine Hoaſt hath learn't, to play at Foxe mine hoaſt; He will grow kind, we ſhall haue drinke inough. Flutt. Enough my Ladde, wilt drinke an Ocean? Me thinks a Whirle-poole cannot ore drinke me. Ser. Yet am I ſtill for horſe a Kingly fight. Oh finely mounted, what a pleaſure tis A troupe of braue Launcers, a ſtately ſhew, Youn. More ſhew then ſeruice, for our good Dragons, Doe wheele about vntoucht, and gall their ſides, Nor doe our Pykemen care a ſtraw for them: Thoſe troupes are good for execution, To ſpoyle a Kingdome, waſte or hauocke all: Wheres no reſiſtance, or at leaſt ſmall head, Or elſe to runne, when as a battels loſt, But for a ſtrength, a braue battalion Of Pikes and ſhot, empald two hundred ſquare, And flanckt with carts and packes on eyther ſide: Your horſemen may goe whiſtle, where are they, This yron wall is impenetrable. Witnes that battell was at Varna fought, A ſhame to Chriſtians for their breach of truce. Ser.

Why? what was that? twixt whom, what was there don •

Gar. He payes you Serieant now, you'r well moſt gone. Come Ile goe home, Ile ſtay no longer here. This Beere hath pepper, it beginnes to bite. Ser. Yet ſtay a while, and Ile waite on you home, I muſt needs heare an end of this diſcourſe. Younk. The Cardinall Iulian mooude this luckleſſe Warre, Cauſing the King and States of Hungarie To breake their truce; which they had ſolemne ſworne; The Pope diſpenc't with them, ſo would not God, If he be witneſſe: he wils faith be kept Without exception, be it with Infidels, As this was here; the ſequell proude it true, In manner thus: Huniades that mannadgde all, Diſlikte this warre: yet Vladiſlaus This youthfull King, eggde on by Iulian, Would needs breake faith with mighty Amurath, And neere to Varna both their armies met, Where he ſo plac't his battels as a Lake, Flanckt the left ſide; a wood was on the reere: And on the right hand all their waggons went: Had they kept ſo, Byzantium had beene ours: And Greece once more it had beene Chriſtendome; The battels ioynd, and after furious charge, The Turkes turnde backe, like birds with ſcarlions ſcarde; So dreadfull were thoſe well knowne colours which Huniades did beare: he giues them chaſe, Heedes not the meaner troupes; but at hard heeles, Followes the fearefull Amurath: meane while The warlike Prieſt, more happy at his booke Doth quit his ſtrength, falls on, thinks all is woone, Some chace the Turkes, while others ſeeke for prey, And ſpoyle theyr tents: they rued this greedineſſe. This when the Turkes perceyude, they ſoone rallide, And chac't them now, by whom they erſt were chac'de. Here dyes the periurde King, the luckleſſe Prieſt Falls in a ditch, and there was choakt with mudde. Ser.

Where was the Generall? what did he this while?

Youn. His warlike troupes, ſtood firme both horſe and foote: Helde on his chace, none durſt gainſt him make head: But when he ſaw all loſt, with watred eyes, True ſignals of his griefe, all ſafe retirde, And watcht the Seigneur till he left thoſe bounds. Gar. Why, this was ſtrange, Oh fie on periury, Ile not beleeue ſpenſations of the Pope, Had that foule Cardinall, choakt in's mothers wombe, This ſhamefull loſſe had ſcaped Chriſtendome. Ser. Thats true ſir, pray drinke one cup to me, Deed I am drye. Gar. I care not, ſoes not I. Filt vp, drinkte out, you are an honeſt man. How doſt Paſquill, perceiu'ſt thou nothing yet. Paſ. All well ſit; nothing: I am pretily well, And ſoes mine hoaſt, I thinke his braines doe crow. Youn. But leauing theſe to come neere to our times, And nearer home, Ile giue you one for al. When Henry th'eight of famous memory, Wan Bolleigue from the French: neere Ardres town A great Commaunder lighted from his horſe, When gainſt the Engliſh they were to make head, And ſerude on foot, vſing ſuch friendly ſpeech: You are the men I loue, this like I beſt; With you ile liue and dye: Let me aske this; What ſeruice euer did the horſe alone, In theſe our Belgicke warres, without the foot? Can they endure hunger, thirſt or want, Or march in cold, or heate, like to the foot: Theyle dye like dogs, and you muſt eate them vp; Or theyle eate you. Cornelius diſcouers himſelfe. His man creepes behind mine Hoaſt Flutterkin. and ſlippes out behind him. Why whats the matter there? Ser. Well Younker well, I will with you diſpence, Ile yeeld the foot the chiefe preheminence. Enter Cornelius. He reeles againſt him. Flut.

Your Worſhips welcome, you do grace mine houſe.

Corn. Thanks, good mine Hoaſt, is Phoebus paſt his height, Or be times changde, iſt Noone beforte be night? Your houſe is altered, its growne a Schoole Of good diſcourſe; of martiall diſcipline. Ser.

Wilt pleaſe you ſir to drinke?

Corn. Some Claret Wine; No Beere, I ſeldome vſe to drinke twixt meales, Obſerue good dyet, to preſerue mine health. Drinke faſting in the morning ſtrong March Beere, Small Beere at Meales, and when my ſtomackes rawe, A Cuppe of Spaniſh Wine: Eate light Suppers, Neere ſit vp late at night: and riſe betimes; Oft walke abroad, and vſe much exerciſe: Theſe midnight Reuels, Surfets, Wine, and Whores, And priuate quarrels, haue deuourde more men Then haue the wars of late. Ser. Sir, heeres a Chayre, Pleaſe you to ſit and take Tobaccho with vs. Cor. Not I good Serieant, Ile no Trinidade, My noſe ſhall not be reeyde, nor guts dyde blacke, That daintie likes me not, that wholeſome Weede, Makes fulſome ſmell: a dying hound would choake With Belgicke fire, and with Spaniſh ſmoake. Gar.

You can endure the ſmell ſir?

Corn. Wondrous well, But not to take it; It doth purge mine head, And makes me ſneeze, as though I tookt my ſelfe. Its well done Serieant, you haue helde him vp With good diſcourſe: All times not loſt, I ſee, Nor yet ill ſpent: place makes not men or good Or bad, its lewdneſſe, ill condition, As vice or vertue doth in men abound; Vertue from Heauen, Vice it comes from Hell, And dragges mens ſoules where monſtrous Furies dwell. Flutterkin brings Wine, and drinkes to him. Pleaſe you ſir, I will drinke one hearty draught Vnto your Worſhips welcome to the towne; In generous Claret, ſparkling; this for me, The onely drinke. He drinkes. Cor. Drinkt out. — I thanke you kindly. To drinke one hearty draught, will doe me good. Flut. Yea twenty, if you will, heeres Wine enough. The towne is full, good lyquor wais it round, Cor. The Moate thou meaneſt; thou ſpeakſt in Metaphors: You haue been buſie, I perceyue the cuppe Workes his reuenge, for ioaling it ſo oft. Ser.

A little ſir, one ciuill cuppe or two.

Cor. That ciuill cup breedes inciuility. When wine ſomtimes makes men be not themſelus How doſt thou Paſquill, I am glad thou art well? Paſ.

I thanke you ſir, I want but Holydayes.

Cor.

What doſt thou worke ſo hard?

Paſ. Pay-dayes I meane, To make one meet another, and ſhake hands, On euen termes, is all that I care for. Cor.

Tis well thou leadeſt a merry life.

Paſq. Thanke God. My Miſtreſſe, and you ſir: you are my friends You make me drinke, when others will not doot. Cor. What news mine hoſt, I like your humor wel Tis merry harmeles, free without offence: But wheres my man, was not he here to day. Paſ. He was indeed, but went before you came About his buſineſſe. Cor. Since you might haue ſayd; I ſaw him when he ſlinkte behind mine hoaſt Paſ. Gods bleſſing on your hart, what ere you thinke You find no fault. Flut. What newes ſir? did you aske? Here is ſmall newes: our Church-men diſagree About opinions, which nere troubles me: I am a man, I hope, beleeues the right, Theres but one God, one true religion; One way to heauen, two or three to hell, If they teach right, according to Gods word. I will beleeue them, otherwiſe ile chuſe. Cor. Why thats wel ſaid, indeed thoſe deep diſputes Are fitter for the Vniuerſities To be diſcuſt within the Colledge walles Amongſt the learned, not to come abroad In open Pulpits mongſt the meaner ſort, Whoſe faith is weak, whoſe iudgment cannot reach Vnto the depth of things: the Magiſtrate, Whoſe ſword I dare not touch, ſhould looke to this: T'will breed combuſtions, hazard many ſoules; Beſides this place befits not this diſcourſe; Therefore ile breake it off, Come lets away; Ile to my wife, I left her at your houſe: Sonne Garland, there I meane to dine; To morrow I enuite you to my houſe To eate ſome veniſon, here tis nouelty; It came from England, baked in Rye paſte, Look that you come, mine hoſt this recknings mine: Let not my ſonne ſcore high: for if you doe Tis loſt for me, Ile not pay one penny. Flut. No ſir, he does not, needs not, will not ſir; I will not miſſe you, if it ſhall pleaſe God Nothing ſhall ſtay me, nought ſhall keepe me backe. Paſ.

And Ile come too, and though I goe on foote.

Co. Why come & welcom, thats your chiefeſt cheare I keepe no feaſt, but what laſts all the yeare. Exeunt. Muſicke. Enter Hans ſolus. If I eſcapte vnſeene, why ſo it is: If not I care not much: it is but ſo; Perhaps a chiding, ſoure looke, or rappe, Its but a ſtorme, it will be ſoone ore-paſt; May be, iuſt nothing: but ile haſte me home; Set vp mine horſes, dreſſe my ſtable vp, And do ſuch things, as I doe vſe to doe, So I be doing, tis no matter what: If it be not ill, and may bring profite in, Or otherwiſe, preuent a willfull waſte. Things muſt be handſome, idlenes is nought, My Miſtreſſe loues me for my cleanlineſſe. Our yarde lyes handſome, theres no ſcattered ſtraw Nor ſticks, nor chippes, but all things be as neate, As ſome mans houſe, not rooted hog-ſtye like; Or elſe poore Hans his iacquet hums: my coate Is ſure to pay for't: ere my maſter comes Ile be at home; if Paſquill ere come there Ile ſit on's skirts, fear't not, for out of doubt, Ile vſe him ſo, the boyes ſhall find him out. Exit. Enter Cornelius and his wife. I told you wife where I ſhould finde your ſonne; Your ſons I might haue ſayde: for they were both Faſt at the pot, ſome talkt, ſome drunke as faſt; The cuppes flew high, & brains waxt ſomthing light I doe perceyue wiſe men ſometimes laſh out, And thrifty too: would you haue thought my ſon The Marchant M. Garland would haue ſtept Into a tappe-houſe, there to ſpend his time, And money both. Hann. Why not? tis recreation, Sometimes for company, alwayes at home; It makes it loathſome, duls the braine and ſence: We muſt not thinke on profite alwayes, winne, Spend now and then, though not to pleaſe our ſelus For others ſakes. Cor. Well: you will ſtill excuſe, Your ſonne, this giues too much encouragement To his amiſſe. Hann. I ſpeake not fore his face, Nor doe I like in him, what you diſlike: My will is yours; but ſhould I ſay as you We ſhould not reaſon, ſo to paſſe the time; For when I ſpeake, and ſpeake the ſame you doe; You'l not reply, then both our tongues are ſtill; But if I croſſe you, though it be not much, I heare more of you, ſometimes learne more witte▪ Cor. Your anſweres ſharpe, it cutteth razor like, A womans witte is quicke, as quicke her tongue, As Aſpin leaues, ſome ſay it is the laſt Part of a woman dyes. Han. Alaſſe poore ſoules, we women muſt beare all We weaker veſſels muſt abide your frumpes: But tis no matter, while they breake no skinne, Our backs were made to beare. Cor.

Your bellyesfull,

Han. Our children do you mean? thats Gyptiā like: For ſo they beare them, in their ſlats or ſheetes; If otherwiſe, my modeſt cheekes would bluſh To anſwere you. Cor. Better and better ſtill; Your apprehenſion takes like tutch; its hard To finde a woman quicke of wit, ſo milde, So modeſt, ſhamefac't, and ſo debonnaire. It ioyes me much, a womans modeſty, And grieues my ſoule to heare a ſcoulding queane, That ſets her husbands night-cap on with hornes. Hann.

Be there ſuch women?

Cor. No, there ſhould not be, I doe not ſay there are; I know none ſuch; All women are alike to me, Ile ſweare, If my skill fayle not, thoult not cuckolde me, Nor bring more children, ſo thy planet ſayes, I found it, caſting thy Natiuity. Hann. Oh ſir, thoſe ſtudies are but fopperies, They are coniectures, theres no certainety, Scarce warrantable, by the word of God, Yet Schollers vſe them, if not good, the more, Their fault, my fancie telles me ſo. Cor. Tis true: The art is lawfull, tis Aſtrologie, But th'arts abuſe in thoſe predictions Stretching a ſtring too farre, marres all; We muſt not attribute to creatures that Which the Creator wils; its he alone, That guides our bodies, not the influence Of ſtarres or Planets, without him theyr power Is nothing; nor doth he reueale his will In them; yet wonders ſtrange they oft foreſhew, Which men may gueſſe at, none knows til tis paſt; Therefore I holde them idle vanity. Han Now ſir, you are welcom home, this idle chat Hath ſhortned our way: Ile to my Dayerie; I muſt ſpare time to ſee my houſe wifery. Exeunt. Enter Paſquill ſolus. Shall I not haue a pleaſant iourney on't Thinke you, that muſt take ſuch prouiſion With me: a Tankard full of Spaniſh Wine Like thoſe in London Water-bearers vſe; The which the Marchant ſends to his Father A baked Swanne, and two huge Turky-cockes; Two bottles of French Wine, the Serieant ſends And M. Flutterkin. I am their man Muſt doe their buſineſſe, muſt haſte on a fore, While they take leaſure: Nay Ile get two more To wayte on me, and rowe me in a boate With this my luggage: when I am dry, Ile drinke, And taſte a bit: but that the Pies are whole; O theres the griefe: but yet Ile haue a tricke Shall ſerue my turne, ere I will ſterue for meate. Three Engliſh miles, and neyther drinke nor eate? It is too great a iourney, I ſhall ſcarſe holde out Without refreſhing, ſomething by the way, Will doe me good, but for mine honeſt men; Ile keepe them ſober, giue them neuer a droppe Till they come there, vnto the Younkers houſe, Where they ſhall haue enough; too much I doubt Without more heed; yet none wil force them drink; But if they'l takte, theyr Butterie is ſo free. A drunkard will be catcht, before hee's ware; There's Hans his man, that raſcall Beere-pot, He will be doing, though he gets the worſt; And when his head flyes light, why then hee runnes To looke to his horſe, and there he fals a ſleepe Ore th'eares in litter; but Ile watch him now. Ile keepe him from the Stable; then I am ſure To nogge him ſoundly; Ile eorroborate My Peare-pot brauely; Ile buffticulate, And counter-ieere him with my termes of Arte; Ribroſt his downes, fling vp my Gallants heeles; Make him take heed hereafter: be he wiſe To deale with Souldiers in a drinking prize. But time haſtes on, and I muſt hence with ſpeed; What's left with me in truſt, Ile doo't indeed. Exit. Enter the Moore Singing. Burſton dantmarden, calaminthay pindara toekſon, Marnuta maltalton, tintima marra tolon. I brought with me great ſtore of Barbarie golde; But all is gone, my parrell quite worne out; And in this faſhion am aſhamde to goe, For feare my father would not looke on me; But if good fortune furniſh me againe. With your free wils Ile run from hence to Spaine. Sing againe. Here may you ſee how fortune turns her wheele: I that before did many men commaund; Am now conſtrainde to ſerue my Maſters man; For Fortune I care not, that fickle Whore; I will be merry ſtill, though neere ſo poore. Sing another Song, and goe out. Enter the Younker, the Marchant and the Serieant. Ser. I thank you both, for you haue made me fine; Theſe gloues and gartars they were quickly won: Each day ſo ſet on worke, I ſhould be rich. Bleſt be my Grandame brought me vp at Schoole Where I learn't wit, more then you thought I had. Gar. He hath drild vs both, & mocks vs to our teeth What ſhall we do with him? weel' canuaſe him. Ser.

I am too bigge.

Youn. VVee'l fling him in the graffe, T'wil coole him ſweetly; oh t'will doe him good. Ser. Were I an Anabaptiſt, you might doo't, And witnes for me that I were baptizde; But that I had i'th town where I was borne, Ere eight dayes olde, I doe remember't yet. Youn. O monſtrous, fie, thy mouth is fouly torne, Art not aſham'd? Ser. As well I ſweare, As the firſt ſmocke that ere my Father vveare. Gar.

Let him alone & hee'l maintain't vvith oths.

Ser. See, ſee how you are deceiu'd, you thought I lyde, There's no ſuch matter, altered is the caſe, As ſurely as I liue, and walking in this place. Gar. Riming againe, Ile deale no more with you; I had enough of late, I payde too deare For your conceites, Ile haue no more of them. Ser. As often as you will, you know the price; And for my skill I paſſe not, am not nice. Youn. Well to him Serieant, now ile take thy part Gainſt him, as he did thine before gainſt me; Ile be reuengde for his diſcourteſie. I maruell much where's Maſter Flutterkin? He ſtayes ſo long I thinke he hath forgot himſelfe. Ser. O here he is, his guts they are ſo ſtuft, With his fat liquor he can ſcarcely runne. Gar. Scarce runne, ſcarce goe, this barreld Sturgeon Is out of breath, his greace begins to melt. Flut. Mocke on my Gallants, ſee what will come on't, A ſhame on Lurchers, you haue kilde me vp. I ranne ſo faſt, ere I could oretake you. Gar. A child of two yeare old would runne as faſt. Flut. Then Ile be hang'd, good ſir, how can that runne? That doth but dade, can hardly goe or ſtand. Wheres Paſquill is he gone? Ser. Hee's there by this? I ſaw him at the Ports, that Gentleman Is ats two men; takes boate, ſits downe at eaſe, And takes Tobacco, while they row him on, He keepes a bottle iuſt betwixt his legges, Drinkes when he liſt, and ſo he ſets it downe. Flut. Would I were with him in ſuch aequipage; Or he were here, for I am almoſt choak't. Draw out the Aqua vitae pottle and drinkes. Gar. Why, how Flutterkin, at your Brande-wine? I pray thee giue me ſome. Flut. Not the leaſt droppe. Drinke againe. Were you a thouſand Merchants; Serieantes, drinke againe. Or Younkers not a droppe, Thinke you Ile dye For want of wholeſome drinke? al's out, ſee there: So now I am well, can walke a mile or two, As luſtique as a Boore, and neere complaine. Youn.

My fathers yonder, he comes here to meet's.

Flut. So nigh already; Oh, I ſee the houſe; I ſmell the Kitchen, ſee the Chimneis ſmoake. Come Serieant; put the better legge before; You ſhall ſpeake firſt, if well, Ile ſecond you. Ser. Thanks good mine Hoſt, your wit would help me much For good conceites your wholeſome guts haue hatcht, When ſodde in ſacke, your braines beginne to flow. Flut. Out from the horrour of infernall deepes; Paſſe forwards on; for I muſt ſtay behind: Some ſmall occaſion biddes me ſtand aſide. Cor. Its' well your come, for I did thinke you long: And that you had forgot to keepe your words. I bid you welcome to my Country farme; Take that for all, Ile vſe no ceremonie. Ser. Ile warrant you ſir, we did not meane to fayle, To ſtay at home, and miſſe ſo good a feaſt, Ti's Chriſtmas now, It comes but once a yeare; And when it comes, men ſay, it brings good cheare. Here's Flutterkin takes leyſure, comes behind; Good man he ſweates, his guts keepe him ſo warme. But feare of fainting by the high way ſide, He hath prouided to preſerue his health; Brande-Wine a creuſe, which he drinks out himſelfe. Flut. I heare you Serieant, I can beare your mocks: You neuer knew fat men but honeſt yet; A good companion, full of mirth and wit; Leane iades caſt off, lye ſtaruing in a ditch; When plumper ſteeds are ſteemde among the rich. Ser. Are you ſo nigh, I thought you had been loſt: By your leaue ſir; Ile welcome here mine Hoaſt. Cor, Ha Serieant I haue known thee to ſerue long, And yet thou ſtick'ſt, belike thou lik'ſt thy game: Trie friends and fortune, may be it will hitte To make thee higher on preferments ſteppe; Stand not on thornes: aduenture, draw a carde. Ser. So may I draw, and draw my ſelfe quite out: And ſtriuing to get more, looſe that I haue. Times are not now as they were erſt, when you Did haunt the fields, and ledde a Souldiers life: Men had reſpect, and then were lookt vpon For their deſerts; but now tis nothing ſo. Reward goes backeward, honour on his head, And due deſerts are ſleight regarded now: He that wants gold, ſeekes place, may ſtand aloofe; Stand faſt he that would riſe, or elſe he falles; That now is ſould, which then was but free guift; Promotions fall not, but are bought before; He that mounts now, he doth not as of olde; Riſe by his vertues, but helpt vp with gold. Youn. With leaue and reuerence may I ſpeake my mind; What though my friends be rich? it grieues me much To ſee poore Souldiers walke in meane attire; And leſſe reſpect that haue deſeru'd well, Growne olde in warres, and got nothing but blowes, Wide gaping wounds, loſt limmes and broken bones, And iuſt preferment, which another gets, And they deſeru'd, and perhaps a man That neuer ſaw the field, nor chimneis ſmoake; But thoſe at home within his natiue ſoyle. Each man would vp, there's none I am ſure would downe; And they may vſe their talents as their owne To their owne good and glory; not the hurt Of poore or rich, of Kingdomes, Common-wealthes; I blame not thoſe that ſeeke to encreaſe their wealth, Or better their eſtates by honeſt meanes; I wrong not Princes, touch not their affaires. Carpe not at men, but times corruptions; Some climbe too faſt, and climbing catch a fall; If pleaſe God he can helpe it, he helpes all. Cor. The Romans vſd to make their Worthies knowne, By honourde titles, and with ornaments, As rings and chaines, gilt ſwordes, and ſpurs of gold, Which none might weare but ſuch as were allowde. But now Iacke Sauce will be in's gilded ſpurs, Whoſe father brewde good Ale for honeſt men: Lodg'd Pedlers, Tynkers, Bearewards ſuch a crew, The ſcumme of men, the plaine raſcality, Such was Auratus Eques miles calde; The French men now, call him Vncheualier; We call them Rydders, the Engliſh name them Knights; T'was ſtrange to ſee, what Knighthood once would doe; Stirre great men vp, to lead a martiall life, Such as were nobly borne, of great eſtates To gaine this honour, and this dignity; So noble a marke to their poſterity. But now alas, it's growne ridiculous, Since bought with money, ſold for baſeſt prize; That ſome refuſe it, which are counted wiſe. Gar. But heere's the difference; for we vſe to ſay, Is ſuch one Knighted? he deſerude it well; Hee's learned, wiſe, an hopefull Gentleman; Hath been abroad, hath ſeene and knowes the warres: He ſpeakes more language then his mothers tongue, He can doe's country ſeruice, or his Prince At home, abroad by Sea, or elſe by land, Maintaine the ſword of ciuill gouernement: But ſuch ones made a Knight: What that Arch-Clowne! His wit is like his mothers milking payle: Brought vp at home, or at Hogſnorton Schoole: His Father neare gaue armes, writ good-man Cluneh, And he kept ſheepe, or beaſts, droue plough or cart: The firſt on's name, firſt Knight, then Gentleman. God giue him ioy; his honour coſt him deare: A ſotte in Crimſon, growne a golden Knight; Well may'te become him, he becomes not it: More then an Aſſe, a rich capariſon. Cor. You are two bitter ſon, you ſpeake too townſman like, As one that enuies Country Gentlemen: He that doth rayſe his houſe, although a Clowne, Is happier farre, then he that puls it downe. Gar. Indeed thats true, for he may haue a Sonne, Whoſe better breeding may helpe thoſe defects, That beins father; may be fitte to rule, The Sword of Iuſtice in a common-wealth, Raiſeth his houſe and name, ſets it higher, Writes ſecond Knight, a Iuſtice, or Eſquier. Cor. When I was in my flowre of youth, and liu'de In Englands Court, that ſwarmde with Martialiſts, Seamen and Souldiers, there had great reſpect, Were ſet by; honourd more then other men, As Drake and Candiſh. Hawkins, Frobiſher, Williams, and Baſkernile two valiant Knights, Thoſe worthy brothers knowne by Norreis name: The Ʋeres, the Shirleis, and the Conſtables, Sir Thomas Morgan, braue Lord Willoughbie, Whom Spaniards termde the fierce, the diuell of hel; Renowned Eſſex, famous Cumberland, And both the Howardes prooude ſo oft at Sea With tempeſts, roaring billowes, Canon ſhot; George Somers Knight, Carlile and Lancaſter, Were not the leaſt; theſe liued in my time; And diuers more whoſe names I haue forgot, That ſerude in Ireland, whom thoſe bloudy warres▪ Made famous vnto all poſterity, Some liuing yet, ſome foulded vp in lead, That dyde in honours lappe; ſleepe in her bed. Ser. Then was a time that ſouldiers were eſteemd, And if they liude they had preferment ſure, And thoſe that dyde were well prouided for; Then did men riſe from meaneſt parentage By their deſerts, to places of account, As ſome you nam'de, not borne to any thing; Did rayſe their fortunes to a great eſtate, And gaue no bribes, did not one penny pay, To any cogging Claw-backe Sycophant, And for deſerts had freely what they had; For happy was that man, though neere ſo great, That could doe honour to a man of warre, As thoſe that ſeru'd in France amongſt thoſe broils, And ciuill diſcordes yet can teſtifie, When that rich kingdome pitteouſly torne All ſtainde with gore, halfe mar'd with fire & ſword VVhat there was got, how much account was had Of them: when backe they made their home return: VVhen happy Bourbon got thoſe lillyes three; Began their peace: did end that miſery. Cor. I ſaw thoſe warres, and ſaw that nauall fight In eighty eight twixt Spaine and Engliſh fleet. With Norreis went I vnto Portugall, And was with Eſſex at the ſacke of Cales, From thence to Ireland where I was a while, But Newport battell that made vp my mouth, The laſt great ſeruice that I ere was at, Where being ſore hurt, was weake, and ſicke long time, Ere I was well, and had my former health Before that time, if ought were to be done. Each ſummer was I wandring ſtill abroad, And what I got, encreaſt my liuelihood, Each yeare a little, till I had enough, I thanke my God, he toſt me to and fro, And ſent me home at laſt to liue in peace; Per mare, per terras, per tot diſcrimenarerum Tendimus in Latium: this Aeneas ſayd. In Latine land when Troian wars were paſt, To liue in peace we are arriude at laſt. Bleſt be that hand which brought this bleſſed peace; And bleſt be thoſe that pray it neuer ceaſe. Flut. O happy you, that ſo did ſpend your time, In dangers great abroad, by ſea and land, While lazie Lurdaines lay and ſlept at home, You rayzde your fortunes, got a braue eſtate, And after all, now leade a Country life, Amongſt your neighbours with a vertuous wife. Ser. Why thats a comfort, farre beyond compare▪ This happy life cannot be paragonde, My owne conceit hath rapt me from my ſelfe, Me thinks I am ſuch one, my ſtate is ſuch, And how I ſit by mine owne fire ſide With my ſweet wife, the life of my deare life, And tell my children, what I erſt haue ſeene To encourage them, to tread their Fathers ſteps; To make them bold to baniſh ſeruile feare. Tis heauen on earth; the minds and hearts content, A Kingdomes riches: can a man haue more? Then Gods ſweet peace: the loue of Common-wealth; His mindes deſires and bodies perfect health. Cor. Here comes my wife, and Paſquill with my man, Thinke Dinners ready, we will leaue diſcourſe. Hans. Pleaſe you come in, your meat is taking vp, And you may talke as well by th'fire ſide. Cor. We come ſweet wife, come giue me thy fayre hand; Weele walke in couples one turne round about. Tis Temple faſhion, there obſerued yet. By th'ancient Seniors, dancing in a ring, Their ſtately meaſures, hand in hand by two And two; vpon their ſolemne reuell nights, And then weele in, and drinke full Nectar cups, And taſte ſuch meate, as God hath giuen vs, Yet midſt of mirth remember them that want, To comfort them, with ſome part of our ſtore In harmeleſſe mirth; thus haue we done our parts; If you be pleaſ'd, how ioyfull are our hearts. Exeunt. Manet Hans. Reuenge, reuenge for Paſquils vgly whore, Ile make him drunke, was neuer creature more. Paſquill within. You would but cannot, thanke you good Sir Hans, If I be drunke, your ſelfe ſhall leade the dance. Hans. What? did he heare me? now this bargaines made; Once warnde, halfe armde, ſo doth the Prouerbe ſay. Now if I would, I cannot, he will none, He not aduenture, leaſt I firſt be gone; He ſaw me not, yet ſees what I would doe; Him ile requite, ſee not, and yet ſee too▪ Ile giue him what he wants, or drinke or meate, And all you too, if that you pleaſe to eate, At your owne coſts, for my ſtore will not doo't, My meanes are ſhort, they will not reach vntoo't. In ſuch exceſſe, I will not doe amiſſe; My minde is altered, you may ſee by this: And for what's paſt: if it haue moude delight, I take my leaue reioyce, and ſo good night. Muſique, ſong and dance.