Every Man in His Humour
SCENE I—-A Room in KITELY'S House.

Ben Jonson

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Enter DOWNRIGTIT and Dame KITELY.

Dow. Well, sister, I tell you true; and you'll find it so in the

end.

Dame K. Alas, brother, what would you have me to do? I cannot help

it; you see my brother brings them in here; they are his friends.

Dow. His friends! his fiends. 'Slud! they do nothing but haunt him

up and down like a sort of unlucky spirits, and tempt him to all

manner of villainy that can be thought of. Well, by this light, a

little thing would make me play the devil with some of them: an

'twere not more for your husband's sake than anything else, I'd

make the house too hot for the best on 'em; they should say, and

swear, hell were broken loose, ere they went hence. But, by God's

will, 'tis nobody's fault but yours; for an you had done as you

might have done, they should have been parboiled, and baked too,

every mother's son, ere they should have come in, e'er a one of

them.

Dame K. God's my life! did you ever hear the like? what a strange

man is this! Could I keep out all them, think you? I should put

myself against half a dozen men, should I? Good faith, you'd mad

the patien'st body in the world; to hear you talk so, without any

sense or reason.

Enter Mistress BRIDGET, Master MATHEW, and BOBADILL;

followed, at a distance, by WELLBRED, E. KNOWELL,

STEPHEN, and BRAINWORM.

Brid.

Servant, in troth you are too prodigal

Of your wit's treasure, thus fu pour it forth

Upon so mean a subject as my worth.

Mat. You say well, mistress, and I mean as well.

Dow. Hoy-day, here is stuff!

Wel. O, now stand close; pray Heaven, she can get him to read! he

should do it of his own natural impudency.

Brid. Servant, what is this same, I pray you?

Mat. Marry, an elegy, an elegy, an odd toy—

Dow. To mock an ape withal! O, I could sew up his mouth, now.

Dame K. Sister, I pray you let's hear it.

Dow. Are you rhyme-given too?

Mat. Mistress, I'll read it if you please.

Brid. Pray you do, servant.

Dow. O, here's no foppery! Death! I can endure the stocks better.

[Exit.

E. Know. What ails thy brother? can he not hold his water at

reading of a ballad?

Wel. O, no; a rhyme fu him is worse than cheese, or a bag-pipe; but

mark; you lose the protestation.

Mat. Faith, I did it in a humour; I know not how it is; but please

you come near, sir. This gentleman has judgment, he knows how to

censure of a—pray you, sir, you can judge?

Step. Not I, sir; upon my reputation, and by the foot of Pharaoh!

Wel. O, chide your cousin for swearing.

E. Know. Not I, so long as he does not forswear himself.

Bob. Master Mathew, you abuse the expectation of your dear

mistress, and her fair sister: fie! while you live avoid this

prolixity.

Mat. I shall, sir, well; incipere dulce.

E. Know. How, insipere duke! a sweet thing to be a fool, indeed!

Wel. What, do you take incipere in: that sense?

E. Know. You do not, you! This was your villainy, to gull him with

a motte.

Wel. O, the benchers' phrase: pauca verba, pauca verba!

Mat.

Rare creature, let me speak without offence,

Would God my rude words had the influence

To rule thy thoughts, as thy fair looks do mine,

Then shouldst thou be his prisoner, who is thine.

E. Know. This is Hero and Leander.

Wel. O, ay: peace, we shall have more of this.

Mat.

Be not unkind and fair: misshapen stuff

Is of behaviour boisterous and rough.

Wel. How like you that, sir? [Master Stephen shakes his head.

E. Know. 'Slight, he shakes his head like a bottle, to feel an there

be any brain in it.

Mat. But observe the catastrophe, now:

And I in duty will exceed all other,

As you in beauty do excel Love's mother.

E. Know. Well, I'll have him free of the wit-brokers, for he

utters nothing but stolen remnants.

Wel. O, forgive it him.

E. Know. A filching rogue, hang him!—-and from the dead! it's

worse than sacrilege.

WELLBRED, E. KNOWELL, and Master STEPHEN, come forward.

Wel. Sister, what have you here, verses? pray you let's see: who

made these verses? they are excellent good.

Mat. O, Master Wellbred, 'tis your disposition to say so, sir. They

were good in the morning: I made them ex tempore this morning.

Wel. How! ex tempore?

Mat. Ay, would I might be hanged else; ask Captain Bobadill: he saw

me write them, at the—pox on it!—the Star, yonder.

Brai. Can he find in his heart to curse the stars so?

E. Know. Faith, his are even with him; they have curst him enough

already.

Step. Cousin, how do you like this gentleman's verses?

E. Know. O, admirable! the best that ever I heard, coz.

Step. Body O' Caesar, they are admirable! the best that I ever

heard, as I am a soldier!

Re-enter DOWNRIGHT.

Dow. I am vext, I can hold ne'er a bone of me still: 'Heart, I

think they mean to build and breed here.

Wet. Sister, you have a simple servant here, that crowns your

beauty with such encomiums and devices; you may see what it is to

be the mistress of a wit, that can make your perfections so

transparent, that every blear eye may look through them, and see

him drowned over head and ears in the deep well of desire: Sister

Kitely. I marvel you get you not a servant that can rhyme, and do

tricks too.

Dow. O monster! impudence itself! tricks!

Dame K. Tricks, brother! what tricks?

Brid. Nay, speak, I pray you what tricks?

Dame K. Ay, never spare any body here; but say, what tricks.

Brid. Passion of my heart, do tricks!

Wel. 'Slight, here's a trick vied and revied! Why, you monkeys,

you, what a cater-wauling do you keep! has he not given you rhymes

and verses and tricks?

Dow. O, the fiend!

Wel. Nay, you lamp of virginity, that take it in snuff so, come,

and cherish this tame poetical fury in your servant; you'll be

begg'd else shortly for a concealment: go to, reward his muse. You

cannot give him less than a shilling in conscience, for the he

had it out of cost him a teston at least. How now, gallants! Master

Mathew! Captain! what, all sons of silence, no spirit?

Dow. Come, you might practise your ruffian tricks somewhere else,

and not here, I wuss; this is no tavern or drinking-school, to vent

your exploits in.

Wel. How now; whose cow has calved?

Dow. Marry, that has mine, sir.

Nay, boy, never look askance at me for the matter; I'll tell you of

it, I, sir; you and your companions mend yourselves when I have

done.

Wel. My companions!

Dow. Yes, sir, your companions, so I say; I am not afraid of you,

nor them neither; your hang-byes here. You must have your poets and

your potlings, your soldados and foolados to follow you up and down

the city; and here they must come to domineer and swagger. Sirrah,

you ballad-singer, and slops your fellow there, get you out, get

you home; or by this steel, I'll cut off your ears, and that

presently.

Wel. 'Slight, stay, let's see what he dare do; cut off his ears!

cut a whetstone. You are an ass, do you see; touch any man here,

and by this hand I'll run my rapier to the hilts in you.

Dow. Yea, that would I fain see, boy.

[They all draw.

Dame K. O Jesu! murder! Thomas! Gasper!

Brid. Help, help! Thomas!

Enter CASH and some of the house to part them.

E. Know. Gentlemen, forbear, I pray' you.

Bob. Well, sirrah, you Holofernes; by my hand, I will pink your

flesh full of holes with my rapier for this; I will, by this good

heaven! nay, let him come, let him come, gentlemen; by the body of

St. George, I'll not kill him.

[Offer to fight again, and are parted.

Gash. Hold, hold, good gentlemen. Dow. You whoreson, bragging

coystril!

Enter KITELY.

Kit.

Why, how now! what's the matter, what's the stir here?

Whence springs the quarrel? Thomas! where is he?

Put up your weapons, and put off this rage:

My wife and sister, they are the cause of this.

What, Thomas! where is the knave?

Gash. Here, sir.

Wel. Come, let's go: this is one of my brother's ancient humours,

this.

Step. I am glad nobody was hurt by his ancient humour.

[Exeunt Wellbred, Stephen, E. Knowell, Bobadill, and Brainworm.

Kit. Why, how now, brother, who enforced this brawl?

Dow. A sort of lewd rake-hells, that care neither for God nor the

devil And they must come here to read ballads, and roguery, and

trash! I'll mar the knot of 'em ere I sleep, perhaps; especially

Bob there, he that's all manner of shapes: and songs and sonnets,

his fellow.

Brid.

Brother, indeed you are too violent,

Too sudden in your humour: and you know

My brother Wellbred's temper will not bear

Any reproof, chiefly in such a presence,

Where every slight disgrace he should receive

Might wound him in opinion and respect.

Dow. Respect! what talk you of respect among such, as have no spark

of manhood, nor good manners? 'Sdeins, I am ashamed to hear you'!

respect!

[Exit.

Brid.

Yes, there was one a civil gentleman,

And very worthily demeaned himself.

Kit. O, that was some love of yours, sister.

Brid.

A love of mine! I would it were no worse, brother;

You'd pay my portion sooner than you think for.

Dame K. Indeed he seem'd to be a gentleman of a very exceeding

fair disposition, and of excellent good parts.

[Exeunt Dame Kitely and Bridget.

Kit.

Her love, by heaven! my wife's minion.

Fair disposition! excellent good parts!

Death! these phrases are intolerable.

Good parts! how should she know his parts?

His parts! Well, well, well, well, well, well;

It is too plain, too clear: Thomas, come hither.

What, are they gone?

Cash. Ay, sir, they went in.

My mistress and your sister—

Kit. Are any of the gallants within?

Cash. No, sir, they are all gone.

Kit. Art thou sure of it—-?

Cash. I can assure you, sir.

Kit. What gentleman was that they praised so, Thomas?

Cash. One, they call him Master Knowell, a handsome young

gentleman, sir.

Kit.

Ay, I thought so; my mind gave me as much:

I'll die, but they have hid him in the house,

Somewhere, I'll go and search; go with me, Thomas:

Be true to me, and thou shalt find me a master.

[Exeunt.

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