Every Man in His Humour
SCENE IV.-A Room in COB'S House.

Ben Jonson

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BOBADILL discoved lying on a bench.

Bob. Hostess, hostess!

Enter TIB.

Tib. What say you, sir?

Bob. A cup of thy small beer, sweet hostess.

Tib. Sir, there's a gentleman below would speak with you.

Bob. A gentleman! 'odso, I am not within.

Tib. My husband told him you were, sir.

Bob. What a plague-what meant he?

Mat. [below.] Captain Bobadill!

Bob. Who's there!-Take away the bason, good hostess;—Come up, sir.

Tib. He would desire you to come up, cleanly house, here!

Enter MATHEW.

Mat. Save you, sir; save you, captain!

Bob. Gentle master Mathew! Is it you, sir? down.

Mat. Thank you, good captain; you may see I am somewhat audacious.

Bob. Not so, sir. I was requested to supper last night by a sort of

gallants, where you were wished for, and drunk to, I assure you.

Mat. Vouchsafe me, by whom, good captain?

Bob. Marry, by young Wellbred, and others.—Why, hostess, stool

here for this gentleman.

Mat. No haste, sir, 'tis very well.

Bob. Body O' me! it was so late ere we parted last night, I can

scarce open my eyes yet; I was but new risen, as you came; how

passes the day abr sir? you can tell.

Mat. Faith, some half hour to seven; Now, trust me, you have an

exceeding fine lodging here, very neat, and private.

Bob. Ay, sir: sit down, I pray you. Master Mathew, 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 cabin 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 engaged, as yourself, 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 have you there? What! Go

by, Hieronymo?

Mat. Ay: did you ever see it acted? Is't not well penned?

[While Master Mathew reads, Bobadill makes himself ready.

Bob. Well penned! 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 devices, when, as I am a gentleman, read 'em,

they are the most shallow, pitiful, barren fellows, that live upon

the: face of the earth again.

Mat. Indeed here are a number of fine speeches in this 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 public wrongs! a

third. Confused 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 like it?

Bob. 'Tis good.

Mat.

To thee, 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, unpolish'd, harsh, and rude,

Haste made the waste: thus mildly I conclude.

Bob. Nay, proceed, proceed. Where's this?

Mat. This, sir! a toy of mine own, in my non-age; 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 of the fashion, master

Wellbred's elder brother and I are fallen out exceedingly: This

other day, I happened to enter into some discourse of a hanger,

which, I assure you, both for fashion and workmanship, was most

peremptory beautiful and gentlemanlike: yet he condemned, and cried

it down for the most pied and ridiculous that ever he saw.

Bob. Squire Downright, the half brother, was't not?

Mat. Ay, sir, he.

Bob. Hang him, rook! he! why he-has no more judgment than a malt

horse: By St. George, I wonder you'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'er changed with his like. By his discourse, 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. Ay, and he thinks to carry it away with his manhood still,

where he comes: he brags he will give me the bastinado, as I hear.

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

Mat. Nay, indeed, he said cudgel me; I termed 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, an 'twere my case now, I should send

him a chartel presently. The bastinado! a most proper and

sufficient dependence, warranted by the great Caranza. Come hither,

you shall chartel him; I'll 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 in the mystery, I have

heard, sir.

Bob. Of whom, of whom, have you heard it, I beseech you?

Mat. Troth, I have heard it spoken of divers, that you have very

rare, and un-in-one-breath-utterable skill, sir.

Bob. By heaven, no, not I; no skill in the earth; some small

rudiments in the science, as to know my time, distance, or so. I

have professed it more for noblemen and gentlemen's 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 action.—Look you, sir: exalt not your

point above this state, at any hand, and let your poniard maintain

your defence, thus:—give it the gentleman, and leave us. [Exit Tib.]

So, sir. Come on: O, twine your body more about, that you may

fall to a more sweet, comely, gentlemanlike guard; so! indifferent:

hollow your body more, sir, thus: now, stand fast O' your left leg,

note your distance, keep your due proportion of time—oh, you

disorder your point most i rregularly.

Mat. How is the bearing of it now, sir?

Bob. O, out of measure ill: a well-experienced hand would pass upon

you at pleasure.

Mat. How mean you, sir, pass upon me?

Bob. Why, thus, sir,—make a thrust at me—[Master Mathew pushes at

Bobadill] come in upon the answer, control your point, and make a

full career at the body: The best-practised gallants of the time

name it the passado; a most desperate thrust, believe it.

Mat. Well, come, sir.

Bob. Why, you do not manage your weapon with any facility or grace

to invite me. I have no spirit to play with you; your dearth of

judgment renders you tedious.

Mat. But one venue, sir.

Bob. Venue! fie; the most gross denomination as ever I heard: O,

the stoccata, while you live, sir; note that.—Come, put on your

cloke, and we'll go to some private place where you are acquainted;

some tavern, or so—and have a bit. I'll send for one of these

fencers, and he shall breathe 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 control any enemy's point in the world. Should

your adversary confront you with a pistol, 'twere nothing, by this

hand! you should, by the same rule, control his bullet, in a line,

except it were hail shot, and spread. What money have you about

you, master Mathew?

Mat. Faith, I have not past a two shilling 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 tobacco to

close the orifice of the stomach: and then we'll call upon young

Wellbred: perhaps we shall meet the Corydon his brother there, and

put him to the question.

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