Chapter IX: Part 9

_Scil_. Nay, and he be lame, ile talke to him; there's so many lustie knaves walkes now a daies will not sticke to give a man hard words, if he be not disposed to charitie. Harke ye sir, I understand ye are a propper man, and that you have a good legge.

_Accut_. And what of that, Sir?

_Scil_. What of that! slid, he answers me like a sturdie beggar alreadie! by the five elements, or sences, I aske ye for no hurt, ile bestowe my charitie as franke as--

_Acut_. Stoope and looke out, zounds a Gentleman cannot come by a misfortune in service or so, but everie foole wil ride him. Take that. [_Exit_.

_Gra_. Sirra, stay, ile combat thee in his defence.

_Serv_. Sir, be pacifical, the impotent must be lightly regarded.

_Grac_. Give me leave Gentlemen, ile follow him.

_Scil_. Nay, I pray you be malcontented, I have no great hurt, but in revenge hee's a rascall for using me so; he may thank God, discretion governed me, tis wel known I have always bene a man of peace; ile not strike yee the least mouse in anger, nor hurt the poorest Conney that goes in the street, for I know of fighting comes quarrelling, of quarrelling comes brawling, and of brawling growes hard words, and as the learned _puerelis_[259] writes, tis good sleeping in a whole skin.

_Grac_. Sir, your discretion shall governe me at this time. Your name, I pray ye sir?

_Scil_. My name is signior _Scillicet_.

_Grac_. Even so sir? nay, sir, I doe not forget your Argument.

_Enter Accutus_.

_Acut_. Save ye, sir, saw ye not a Gentleman come this way even now, somewhat hurt in one of his Legges?

_Scil_. He went by even now, sir; is he a friend of yours?

_Acu_. A deare friend, and a propper Gentleman, sir.

_Scil_. By the horison hee's a propper man indeede, he gave me the time of day as he went by, I have a gallon of wine for him at any time. If ye see anything in me worth Commendations, I pray ye commend me to him.

_Acut_. I will sir;--twere best you gave me good words, but ile trie ye farther yet;--fare ye well, sir.

_Scil_. I pray you remember me to him.--You see my anger is over already. [_Exit[260] Acutus_.

_Grac_. Would ye not strike him? lets followe.

_Scil_. Indeede ye shall not, I hate it.

_Ser_. I will not be barren of my armorie, in my future perambulation for the lower element.

_Grac_. You are too patient in wrongs, sir.--Zoundes I know not how to picke a quarrell.

_Serv_. Sir, the grievous youth is inwardlye possest of a supple spirit, he can brooke impugnying, but tis adverse to my spirit if I were armed.

_Enter Accutus_.

_Accut_. Save ye, gallants, sawe ye not a fellowe come halting this way of late?

_Scil_. Hath he done any hurt, or is hee a friend of yours?

_Acut_. Hee's a Rascall and ile maintaine him so.

_Scil_. Hee's a verie Rascall indeede, and he used mee like a knave: if ere I meete him, I shall hardly put it up; I have it in blacke and blue to shew heere.

_Serv_. Say, I breath defyance to his front.

_Acut_. Challenge him the field.

_Scil_. Doos't thinke heele answere me? I'l challenge him at the pich-fork, or the Flaile, or ile wrastle a fall with him for a bloody nose; anye weapon I have bene brought up in ile--

_Accut_. What will ye? heere he is, you minime, that will be friend with friends and foe with foes; and you that will defie _Hercules_, and out-brave _Mars_ and feares not the Devil; passe, bladder, ile make ye swell.

_Scil_. By Gods-lid, if I had knowne it had bene you, I would not have said so to your face. [_Exeunt_.

_Accut_. Away, with your Champion, goe.

_Grac_. This was excellentlye performed, ifaith a better breathing then a game at bowles.

_Accut_. Theile give you the good salve at any time this month, for I am sure they have salving enough for so long.

_Grac_. I pittie the foole yfaith, but the tother Horseleach I wish his blowes trebled. I converst with him, but a Rogue so stuft with the lybrary of new minted[261] words, so tearing the sence, I never met with.

_Accut_. But now we have spoilde our determinate dinner at my hostesse of the Hobbye; we shall nowe bee knowne.

_Grac_. That holds well still, I am taken for a prooved friend, and thou shalt be disguised, till, I have wrought a league by vertue of a pottle of Canarie.

_Acut_. Content, mine Host shall be accessarie and ile be a serviter to observe myracles.

_Grac_. They are good subjects for idle houres:--but soft, what second course is entring heere?

_Enter Phy., Bos, and Boy_.

_Phy_. _For I did but kisse her; Bos_, how lik'st thou my relish?

_Bos_. Oh sir, relish but your licour, as you doe your song, you may goe drunke to bed any day in the weeke.

_Phy_. _Sister_,[262] _awake, close not, &c_. Does my face hold colour still?

_Bos_. I, and you would but scaviage the pavilion of your nose.

_Gra_. I, marrie, _Accutus_, how lik'st thou this Gentlewoman Gallant?

_Accut_. A good states-man, for common-wealth of Brownists; the Rogue hates a Church like the Counter.

_Gra_. I, and if my Ladie Argentile were dead, he wold rather live upon almes then fall to worke.

_Accut_. So he might have tolleration.--What, shal's close with them?

_Gra_. In any case, but in some mild imbrace, for if we should continue thus rough, we should be shunned like an Appoplex.

_Accut_. Gallants, the fortune of the day runs with ye: what all at mumchance?[263] how is't? how is't?

_Phy_. Sir, I think twas you bestowed some abuse of me tother day.

_Accu_. Which I would wipe out of your memorie With satisfaction of a double courtesie.

_Phy_. I accept it ifaith, sir, I am not prone to anger, I assure ye the following night knew not my anger. Your acquaintance, Signior.

_Gra_. Fye, without ceremony lets yoake this triplicity as we did in the daies of olde, with mirth and melody.

_Phy_. I, say you? so then _Coll_[264] _her and clip her and kisse her, too, &c_.

_Bos_. The triplicitie! heere's those has supt at an ordinarie.

_Accu_. This gallant humors.

_Gra_. But the other walkes aloofe.

_Bos_. The triplicite! heere's those has crackt glasses and drawn blood of a Tapster.

_Gra_. The visitation of your hand, sir.

_Bos_. The Triplicitie! will colours change?

_Acut_. Sir, take no offence, I beseech ye, we gave onlye satisfaction for an olde injurie, but in the degree of amitie your selfe sits in the superlative.

_Bos_. No sir, but in respect.

_Gra_. What kinde is your Dogge of, sir?

_Bos_. Verie kinde to anything but his meat, that hee devours with great alacritie.

_Grac_. Where was he bred?

_Bos_. In a Bitch.

_Gra_. What Countrie?

_Bos_. A kind of Mungrill, he will carrie but not fetch, marrie hee is to be put to a dauncing schoole for instruction.

_Acut_. The tricke of the rope were excellent in him, & that ile teach him, if I misse not my mark. Come, Gallants, we waste time, the first Taverne we arrive at weel see the race of an houre-glasse.

_Phy_. Can ye a part in a Song?

_Gra_. Verie tollerably.

_Phy_. Weele have a catch then, if with sol, sol, la: Gentlemen have you any good herbe? you have match, boy.

_Boy_. Your pipe shall want no fire sir.

_Acut_. Oh, without ceremony: now, _Graccus_, if we can but pawne their senses in Sack and Sugar, let mee alone to pursue the sequell.

_Gra_. Follow it away.

[_Exeunt_.

[_Scene_ 3.]

_Enter Hostis, Cittizens wife, Servulus, and Scillicet_.

_Hostis_. Come, come, bring them out of the ayre: alas good hearts, what rogorous villaine would commit with him? ile tell ye Gosip, hee's eene as kinde an animall, he would not wrong them y'faith.

_Citty wife_. Tush, feare nothing woman, I hope to make him so again. Alacke, alacke, how fell you out all a head?[265] Oh Butcher! are ye hurt in another place?

_Hostis_. Did he not throw you against the stones? If he did, doe not conceale, I dare say you gave them not a foule word.

_Scil_. By the illuminate welkin not a word till my mouth was full of blood, and so made my words foule.

_Citty wife_. Is not this Gentleman hurt too?

_Serv_. Onelye the extravagant Artire[266] of my arme is brused.

_Cittie wi_. See, see, the extravagant of his arme is brused to. Alas, how could ye quarrell so?

_Serv_. I will demonstrate: in the defence of the generous youth I did appugne my adverse, let violently flie.

_Cittie wife_. Ah good hearts! would I had stood between you, when he let flie so violently.

_Ser_. We voide of hostile armes.

_Hostis_. I, if they had had horses, they had sav'd their armes.

_Serv_. Be capable, I meane, void of armorie.

_Citty-wife_. Untill ye had armor on.

_Serv_. Had I bene accompanied, with my Toledo or morglay.[267]

_Cittie wife_. I, your Dogge or Bitch.

_Serv_. Continue, I beseech, I meane my sword, sole lye my sword.

_Cittie wife_. Or solely your sword, better a bad toole then none at all.

_Serv_. In the concourse--

_Cittie w_. Nay, the concourse will light on him for it, I warrant.

_Serv_. I, for the tuition of my Capitall, did mount my Semisphere, three degrees, that as a strong, & stony guard did defend my Capitall.

_Citty w_. Twas well ye kept him out, for if he had entered on your stony Guard, he would have spoilede your Capitall.

_Serv_. In fine, being mortally assaild, he did preambulate [_sic_] or walk off.

_Scil_. Yes, faith, he did preambulate, and walke mee finely.

_Cittie w_. Good heartes, how many were there of them?

_Serv_. About the number of seaven.

_Scil_. I, there was seaven.

_Serv_. Or eight.

_Scil_. Or eight.

_Serv_. Rather more.

_Citty w_. I, more at least, I warrant ye.

_Hostis_. Alasse ye cannot chuse but be more hurt, but ile search you throughly, be assured.

_Citty w_. And if she cannot helpe ye fewe can; shee knowes what belongs to a Tent,[268] or a bruse, and experience is good in those cases.

_Serv_. I have a concupiscent forme of trust in your skil, it will malladise.

_Citty wi_. I, feare not, put both your concupisences in me for that matter.

_Serv_. The generous will disburse coynage for satisfaction of your metaphisicall endevour.

_Scil_. Yes, yes, I will discharge all.

_Cittie wife_. Wee make no doubt of that; come into a chamber, ye shall lye downe awhile; perhaps youle bee stiffe anon, then you shall use your legges, the more you strive with it the better. Alas, good hearts!

[_Exeunt_.

_Phy_. Sol, sol, la! Tapster, give attendance! Gentlemen, I hope all we are friends, the welkin is skie colour still, and men must grow by degrees; you must pardon me, I must sp--speak my minde.

_Grac_. The uttermost of your minde at this time cannot be offensive.

_Phy_. _The fryer was in the_--sol, sol, draw the tother quart. I hope you are not angrie gallants; and ye come to my lodging, ye shall be welcome; my Hostes shall bid you welcome, shee's a good wench; if I say the word, she wil fa--fullfill it.

_Acut_. Sirra drawer, for the other thats a sleepe; let him so remaine; for the Dog, let him be bound to a post for his appearance, till I take order for his undooing.

_Draw_. The foole and the Dogge shall both take rest at your commaund, Sir.

_Phy_. Gentlemen, I hope we are all friends: sol, sol, shal's have a catch?

_Grac_. I, come, come, everie one catch a part. [_Sing_.

_Phy_. Hey good boies ifaith, now a three man's song, or the olde _downe a downe_; well things must be as they may, fils the other quart; muskadine,[269] with an egg is fine, there's a time for all things. _Bonos nocthus_.[270] [_Sleepe_.

_Grac_. Good night to you sirs.

_Accut_. So now, _Graccus_, see what a polluted lumpe, A deformed _Chaos_ of unsteddy earth Man is, being in this ill kinde unmand seeming somthing Bestial man, brutish animall. Well tis thus decreede, He shall be what he seemes, that's deade. For what in him shows life but a breathing ayre? Which by a free constraint it self ingenders In things without life, as twixt a pair of bellowes We feele a forcible aire, having of it self Force and being, no more is this breathing block But for his use in kinde.--Give out in some bursse or congregation Among the multitude _Philautus_[271] death. Let all the customarie rights of funerall, His knell or what else, be solemnly observed. Ile take order for his winding sheete, And further, to furnish it with further suertie, Ile have a potion that for twentie houres Shall quench the motion of his breath. Goe, spread, Let me alone to effect it.

_Gra_. Ile sow it, I warrant thee; thou talkst of bursse,--I have a way worth ten on't, ile first give it out in my Barbers shop, then at my ordinarie, and that's as good as abroad; and as I cross _Tiber_ my waterman shall attach it, heele send it away with the tide, then let it come out to an Oyster wenches eare, and sheele crie it up and down the streetes.

_Acut_. Let's first secure him from eyes, and at night he shall be portered to our chamber; so, now away.

_Grac_. Oh a couple that would spred rarely,[272] lets give it for loves sake.

_Enter Hostis and Cittizens wife_.

_Acut_. Call, call.

_Grac_. Hem, hem.

_Citty wife_. A pox on your hemmings, do you think we care for your hemmings?

_Hostis_. Tis some stinking troublesome knave, I warrant ye.

_Citty wife_. Hang him, regard him not; theres hemming indeede, like a Cat, God blesse us, with a burre in her throate. [_Exeunt_

_Grac_. S'hart, how we are ript up for this?

_Ac_. Oh man, this hemming is the most hatefulst thing, theres not the most publique punck,[273] nor worm-eaten bawd that can abide it, and honestie would run madde to heare it. But come we waste time, tis now about the mid of day; we must sowe arithmatike by the houres, that at[274] the morrowes highth _Philautus_ awake again, at which time he shall be on his Hearse, and all the Guestes of the Hobbye invited to accompany his ghost, when being awake, himselfe and all shall see if drunkenesse be not mad misterie.

_Grac_. But I prethee, practise some milder behaviour at the ordinarie, be not al madman.

_Acut_. Push,[275] ile bee all observative, and yet ifaith I grieve to see this double garded[276] age, all side-coate, all foole. Fye thou keepest the sports from the marke; away, and returne. What newes is now in progresse.

_Grac_. I have the newest. _Terentia_, Daughter to the olde Senate, thogh _Lentulus_ left the field to come to her, yet she hath forsaken him in the open field, and shee's for our young Oratour, _Tully_; she has vowd by _Venus_ legge and the little God of Love, he shall be her captaine; sheele serve under him, till death us depart,[277] and thereto, I plight thee my troth.

_Acut_. More Ladies _Terentias_, I crie still, That prise a saint before a Silken foole. She that loves true learning and pomp disdaines Treads on _Tartarus_ and _Olimpus_ gaines.

_Grac_. I, marrie, but then would learning be in colours, proud, proud; then would not foure nobles purchase a benefice, two Sermons in a yeare.

_Accut_. I, _Graccus,_ now thou hitst the finger right Upon the shoulder of Ingratitude. Thou hast clapt an action of flat felony; Now, ill betide that partiall judgement That doomes a farmers rich adultus To the supremacie of a Deanrie, When needie, yet true grounded Discipline, Is govern'd with a threed bare Vycarage.

_Grac_. I, thou speakst well of their sides that are liberally overseene in the sciences. I take no hold on't, but were all men of thy minde, then would everie Schoole-maister bee a Senate, and there would never come Cobler to be Constable againe.

_Accut_. Ynough, ynough, _Graccus_, let silence seale up our secret thoughts and libertie say,

_Virtus sola summa gloria,
Quae format homines vero honore_.

[ACT THE THIRD.

_Scene_ 1.]

_Enter Flaminius and Tully_.

_Flam_. Goe to, I say, urge no more, tis Taverne talke, for Taverners Table talke for all the vomit of rumor. What newes, saies one? none so new as this: _Tully_ shall be married to _Terentia_. What newes says another? the same, the same. Whose consent have ye? not mine, I deny it. I must know of it, ile have a hand; goe to, no more.

_Tul_. Gentle Sir, Lay not a leaden loade of foule reproach Upon so weake a prop; what's done is past recal. If ought is done, unfitting to be done, The worst is done, my life must answer it.

_Flam_. I, you shall answer it in the Senate house, the Emperor shall knowe it. If she be my childe, I will rule her, ile bridle her, ile curbe her, ile raine her; if she will not, let her goe, starve, begge, hang, drawe, sinke, swimme, she gets not a doit, a deneire, ile not owne her.

_Tul_. Reverend Sir, be more patient.

_Flam_. I am impatient, I am troubled, I am vext, I am scoft, I am pointed at, ile not endure it, ile not abide it, ile be revenged, I wil, of her, of you both, proud boy, wanton giglot,[278] aspyring, hautie. Knowe your equals, shee's not for ye, if ye persist, by my holy maker, you shall answer it, looke to it, you shall, you shall indeede. [_Exit_[279] _Flaminus_.

_Tull_. I shall, I must, I will, I will indeede, Even to the greatest I will answere it; If great mens eares be ope to inocency, If greatnesse be not partial with greatenesse, Even to the greatest I will answere it. Perhaps, some shallow censurer will say, The Orator was proud, he would climbe too hie; But heaven and truth will say the contrarie. My greatest grief is, I have my friend betraide; The treasons done, I, and the Traitor's free, Yet innocent Treason needes not to flee. His loyaltie bids me abide his frowne, And he hath power to raise or hurle me downe.

_Enter_[280] _Terentia_.

_Tere_. What ailes my _Tully_? wherefore look'st thou sad? What discontent hath stopped the crimson current Which ran so cheerefully within that brow, And makes it sullen like a standing poole? Tell me who ist hath wrong[d] my _Cicero_? [Say,[281] is it _Lentulus_?]

_Tul_. Oh wrong him not.

_Tere_. Who is it then, that wrongs my _Tully_ so? What, hath _Terentia_ ought offended thee? Doost thou recall my former promises? Dost thou repent thee of--

_Tul_. Oh wrong me not.

_Tere_. What, hath my father done this injurie? There, there, my thoughts accord to say tis so. I will deny him then, hee's not my father; Hee's not my friend will envie _Cicero_.

_Tul_. Wrong not thy self.

_Teren_. What heavie string doost thou devide[282] upon? Wrong not him, wrong not me, wrong not thy selfe. Where didst thou learne that dolefull mandrake's note To kill the hearers? _Tully_, canst thou not Indure a little danger for my love, The fierie spleene of an angrie Father, Who like a storme will soon consume it self? I have indurde a thousand jarring houres Since first he did mistrust my fancies aime, And will indure a thousand thousand more If life or discord either live so long.

_Tul_. The like will I for sweete _Terentia_. Feare not, I have approoved armour on, Will bide the brunt of popular reproach Or whatsoever.

_Tere_. Enough, _Tully,_ we are discovered.

_Enter_[283] _Flavia_.

_Fla_. Yfaith,[284] are ye at it? what, is there never a loving teare shed on either side? nor you? nor you? _Tullies_ [eyes] are red, come, come, ye fooles, be more breefe. I would have buried three husbands, before youle be married.

_Tul_. Why lives _Flavia_ a Virgin still?

_Fla_. Because, I haue vow'd virginitie til I can get a husband.

_Teren_. Why, _Flavia_, you haue many suitors.

_Flav_. Oh, I am loaden with suitors; for indeede I am faine to beare with any of them, I have a dumbe-shewe of all their pictures, each has sent in his severall shadow, and I swear I had rather have them then the substance of any of them.

_Tul_. Can you not describe them in action?

_Flav_. Yes, and their action; I have one honest man of the age of fortie five, or there about, that traverses his ground three mile everie morning to speake to mee, and when hee is come, after the saluting ceremony, of 'how do you, Lady,' he falles to calculating the nativitie of the Moone, prognosticating what faire weather will follow, if it either snow or raine; sometime with a gentle pinche by the fingar intermixed with the volley[285] of sighes, hee falles to discoursing of the prise of pease, and that is as pleasing to me as a stinking breath.

_Tul_. A good description.

_Fla_. Another brings Letters of commendation from the Constable of the Parish, or the Church-warden, of his good behaviour and bringing up, how he could write and reade written hand; further desiring that his Father would request my Father that his Fathers Sonne might marrie my Fathers Daughter and heele make her a joynter of a hundred pound a yeare, and beget three or foure fooles to boote.

_Teren_. Better and better.

_Tul_.[286] _Usus promptus [sic] facit; Faemina[e] ludificantur viros_; well, forward.

_Flav_.[287] I have another that I prise derer then the rest, a most sweete youth, and if the wind stand with him I can smell him half a mile ere hee come at me, indeede hee weares a Musk-cat--what call ye it?--about him.

_Tul_. What doe you call it?

_Flav_. What ye will, but he smels better then burnt Rosemarie, as well as a perfuming pan, and everie night after his first sleepe writes lovesicke sonnets, railing against left handed fortune his foe,[288] that suffers his sweet heart to frowne on him so.

_Tul_. Then it seemes you graunt him no favour.

_Flav_. Faith, I dare not venture on him, for feare he should be rotten; give me nature, not arte.

_Tere_. Here comes Lord _Lentulus_.

_Tul_. Swift danger, now ride poaste through this passage.

_Enter_[289] _Lentulus_.

Health to your honour.

_Len_. And happines to you.

_Tul_. In[290] heaven, deere Lord, but--

_Lent_. Tush, tush, on earth; come, come, I know your suite, tis graunted sure, what ere it be.

_Tul_. My sute craves death, for treason to my friend.

_Teren_. The Traitor lives while I have breath to spend, Then let me die to satisfie your will.

_Lent_. Neither, yfaith, kneele not, rise, rise, I pray; You both confesse you have offended me?

_Both_. We doe, we have.

_Lent_. Then for this offence, be this your doome: _Tulley_ must die, but not till fates decree To cut your vital threed, or _Terentia_ Finde in her heart to be your Deathes-man.

_Flav_. Faith the Fates may doe as they may, but _Terentia_ will never finde in her heart to kill him, sheele first burie him quick.

_Len_. The like is doomde to faire _Terentia_. How say you both, are yee content?

_Teren_. My thoughts are plung'd in admiration.

_Tul_. But can your honour burie such a wrong?

_Len_. I can, I can; heere, _Tulley_, take _Terentia_, Live many happie yeares in faithfull love. This is no more then friendships lawes allow; Thinke me thy self, another _Cicero_.

_Flav_. Twere better, my Lord, you did perswade her to think you another _Cicero_, so you might claim some interest in her now and then.

_Lent_. That I would claim with you, faire Ladie; Hark in your eare, nay, I must conclude with you.

_Flau_. Y'oule not bite, my Lord?

_Len_. No, of my faith, my Lady.

_Tere_. Thus far, my love, our hopes have good successe; One storme more past, my griefes were much the less.

_Tul_. Friendship itself hath beene more prodigal Then a bolde face could begge upon a friend.

_Lent_. Why, then theres a bargaine.

_Flav_. Strike hands upon the same, I am yours to commaund. Ile love with ye, ile lie with ye, ile love with all my heart, With all my strength, with all my power and virtue: Seald and delivered in the presence of us--

_Lent_. _Marcus Tullius Cicero_. Then you deliver this as your act and deede?

_Flav_. I doe, and scale it with this--

_Lent_. Why, well said, tis done; see, we begin but now, And are as ready to goe to Church as you. What needes further ceremony?

_Flav_. Yes, a little matrimony.

_Lent_. I, Lady. Come _Tully_ and _Terentia_; One day shall shine on both our Nuptials; Feare not, ile quench the fire of your Fathers heate With my consent.

_Flav_. I prethee, appoint the time.

_Lent_. About a week hence, love.

_Flav_. Oh, tis too intolerable long.

_Lent_. Then foure daies.

_Flav_. Foure daies is foure times foure & twenty hours. That's too long too.

_Lent_. We cannot sooner be readie.

_Flav_. Yes, and unreadie[291] too in a day and a halfe.

_Lent_. Well then two daies.

_Flav_. Til then weele feede on conceite; _Tully_, thanke me, but for your companie I would not tarry so long; come, _Tully_, since we shall bee married all at one time, weele goe to bed so, and he shall be maister of the Cock-pit that bids his Gossips[292] first.

[_Exeunt_.

[ACT THE FOURTH.

_Scene_ 1.]

_Enter Accutus and Graccus_.

_Acut_. Nay quicke, _Graccus_, least our houre forestall us, ile in and deale for your disguise; tarry thou & give mine host a share of our intent; marry, charge him to keep it as secret as his Garbage. He undoes our drift [else] and cloathes the foole in sackcloath during his life.

_Gra_. Ile warrant thee ile manage it with as good judgement as a Constable his charge.

_Acut_. And I mine as a watchman his office.

_Gra_. Better, I hope; well about it.

[_Exit [Acutus]_.

_Enter_[293] _Host. Prentices pass over the stage_.

_Host_. There, there my little lackey boyes, give the word as ye passe, look about to my guests there; score up at the Bar there; again, agen, my fine Mercuries; if youle live in the facultie, be rulde by instructions, you must be eyed like a Serjeant, an eare like a Belfounder, your conscience a Schoolemaister, a knee like a Courtier, a foote[294] like a Lackey, and a tongue like a Lawyere. Away, away, my brave bullies! welcome, sweete Signior, I cannot bow to thy knee, I'me as stout & as stiff as a new made knight, but if I say the word, mine Host bids the Cobler--

_Gra_. May I crave a word of you, mine Host?

_Host_. Thou shalt whisper in mine eare, I will see and say little; what I say duns[295] the mouse and welcom, my bullies.

_Enter Scillicet and Getica_.

_Scil_. By the torrid zone (sweet heart) I have thought well of you ever since I loved ye, as a man wold say, like a young dancer, out of all measure; if it please you yfaith anything I have promised you ile performe it to a haire, ere to morrow night.

_Get_. I wounder [_sic_] I can heare no newes of my man and my puppie.

_Scil_. Doe you thinke, sweet heart, to be maried by day light or by torch-light?

_Get_. By night is more Lady-like. Ile have a cryer to cry my puppie sure.

_Scil_. What thinke ye if we had an offering?

_Get_. That were most base yfaith.

_Scil_. Base, slid, I cannot tel if it were as base as a sagbut, ile be sworne tis as common as a whore, tis even as common to see a Bason at a Church doore, as a Box at a Playhouse.

_Get_. It greeves me not so much for my man as for my puppie; my man can shift for himself, but my poore puppie! truely I thinke I must take Phisicke even for feare, sweetheart.

_Host_. Tut, tut, ile warrant thee ile be as close as a bawd, ile keepe mine owne counsell, be merrie and close;[296] merrie hart lives long, let my guests take no wrong, & welcome, my bullie. [_Exit_.

_Grac_. There's none ment, beleeve it, sir.

_Scil_. Signor, by the welkin, well met, what all three so luckely?

_Enter Servulus_.

_Ser_. Gallants, saving the Ceremonie, Stroke your haire up and admire, forsweare sacke.

_Scil_. Foresweare Sacke! slid, not for the spending of two farmes more, if they were come into my hands once.

_Ser_. I say be astonisht and forsweare sacke, for by the combustion influence of sacke five men lye breathlesse ready to be folded in the terrestiall element.

_Grac_. Five slaine with Sacke! ist possible?

_Ser_. These eyes are testators.

_Scil_. Nay, then tis so.

_Getica_. Sir, you have not heard of a puppie in your travels?

_Grac_. No indeede, Gentlewoman.

_Ser_. Five, beleeve me, Sir.

_Acu_. Five of one, oh devil! What limme of him but a complete Villaine! A tongue prophaner then Idolatrie, His eye a beacon fixed in his place Discovering illes, but hood-winked unto grace; His heart a nest of vice kept by the Devill, His good is none at all, his all is evill.

_Enter_[297] _Hostess_.

_Hostis_. Oh, the father! Gallants, yonders the most hard favourd newes walkes the streetes, seaven men going to their graves, that dyed with drinking and bisseling.[298]

_Acut_. Good, still, nay then I see the devill has some power over a woman more then a man. Seaven! t'will be more anon.

_Get_. Now I beseech _Bacchus_ my puppie has not overseene[299] himself.

_Scil_. This is verie strange.

_Hostis_. And as true a report, I assure you.

_Enter City-Wife_[300]

_Cittie wife_. Out alas, where's my Gosip? Oh woman! have you not heard the newes?

_Hostis_. Yes, I have heard on't.

_Cittie wife_. Oh, woman, did your child's child ever see the like? nine men to bee buried too day, that drunk healthes last night.

_Acut_. Better and better, goodnes never mends so fast in the carrying: nine!

_Cittie wife_. They say one is your guest, _Philautus_.

_Acut_. And all, I dare sweare, whome ile revive againe.

_Cittie wife_. Well he was a propper man, yfaith.

_Hostis_. I, and had good skill in prick-song, yet he had a fault in his humor, as none are without (but Puritans,); he would swear like an Elephant, and stamp and stare, (God blesse us,) like a play-house book-keeper when the actors misse their entrance.

_Scil_. Nay, harke ye, sir, I can brooke much injurie but not that; meddle with me but not with my trade; shee is mine owne, shee's _meus, tuus, suus_, no man's else, I assure ye, we are sure[301] together.

_Grac_. Sure ye are together, sir, but is your wife your trade? You meane to live upon your wife then.

_Acut_. The foole has some wit,[302] though his money bee gone.

_Grac_. Sir, I hope ye are not offended, I assure ye I would be loath to offend the least haire of your _caput, sissiput_, or _occiput_.

_Scil_. _Occiput_? what meane you by _occiput_?

_Grac_. The former part of your head.

_Scil_. The former part of your head! why I hope I have not an occiput, in the former part of my head. Signior _Servulus_, what meanes he by it?

_Serv_. The signification of the word only amounts to this, the former part of your head.

_Accut_. The foole is jealious, prethee feede it.

_Scil_. S'lid, I cannot be so sussified; I pray you, Segnior, what meanes he by _occiput_?

_Grac_. No hurt, verily, onely the word signifies, and the reason is, saith _Varro_, being a great deriver from originals, it is called _occiput_ for that the former part of the head looks likest the Oxe.

_Scil_. Likest the Oxe, by gad, if ere I come to talke with that _Varro_, ile make him show a better reason for it.

_Grac_. But, howsoever, it proceeded from me all in kindenes.

_Scil_. Sir, I accept it so, for I tell ye I am of a mollifying nature. I can strut and againe in kindnesse I can suffer a man to breake my head, and put it up without anger.

_Accut_. I claime that priviledge, sir, I thinke I offended you once that way.

_Scil_. I love ye then for it sir, yet I cannot remember that ever a Tapster broke my head, yet I call to minde I have broke many Tapsters heads.

_Accut_. Not as a Tapster, for I but borrow this habyt.

_Scil_. The fruit is knowne by the tree, by gad, I knewe by your aporn[303] ye were a gentlemen, but speciallye by your flat[304] cap.

_Serv_. I call to memorie, let us unite with kinde imbrace.

_Cittie wife_. Now well fare your harts; by my truth, tis joy to a woman to see men kinde; faith you courtiers are mad fellowes, you care not in your humors to stab man or woman that standes in your way, but in the end your kindenes appeares.

_Hostis_. You can resolve us, sir; we heare of great revels to be at Court shortly.

_Grac_. The marriage of _Lentulus_ and the Orator: verie true.

_Hostis_. Might not a company of Wives be beholding to thee for places, that would be there without their husbands knowledge, if neede were?

_Grac_. A moitie of friendship that, ile place ye where ye shall sit and see all.

_Cittie wife_. Sit? nay, if there were but good standinges, we care not.

_Acu_. S'foot, _Graccus_, we tarrie too long, I feare; the houre wil overtake us, tarrie thou and invite the Guests, and Ile goe see his course mounted.

_Grac_. About it.

[_Exit_[305] _Acutus_.

_Hostis_. Whether goes that gentleman?

_Grac_. About a needeful trouble; this gentleman Hath, at the charges of his charitie, Preparde to inter a friend of his, Though lately entertaind a friend of yours, Acquaintance to you all, _Philautus_; and would desire You would with him accompany his ghost To funerall, which will be presently on his journey.

_Cittie wife_. Of his charge? dyed he not able to purchase a Winding sheete?

_Grac_. Twere sinne to wrong the dead; you shall heare the inventorie of his pocket.

Imprimis, brush and a Combe o o v.d.
Item, a looking Glasse o o i.d.ob.
Item, A case of Tobacco Pipes o o iiij.d.
Item, Tobacco, halfe an ounz o o vj.d.
Item, in money and golde o o iij.d.
_Summa totalis_. xix d. halfe penny.

_Hostis_. What was his suite worth?

_Grac_. His sute was colde, because not his owne, and the owner caused it to be restored as part of recompence, having lost the principall.

_Re-enter_[306] _Acutus_.

_Acut_. What, are they readie? the Corse is on his journey hetherwards.

_Grac_. Tush, two womens tungs give as loud report as a campe royall of double cannons.

_Enter Host, Cornutus_.

_Host_. Tut, tut, thou art welcom; _Cornutus_ is my neighbour, I love him as my self. Tha'st a shrowe to thy wife, gave her tongue to [_sic_] much string, but let mine Host give thee counsell, heele teach thee a remedie.

_Cornu_. No, no, my good Host; mum, mum, no words against my wife; shee's mine owne, one flesh, & one blood. I shall feele her hurt, her tongue is her owne, so are her hands; mum, mum, no words against your wife.

_Host_. Tut, tut, thou art a foole, keepe her close from the poticarie, let her taste of no licoras, twill make her long winded; no plums, nor no parseneps, no peares, nor no Popperins, sheele dreame in her sleep then; let her live vpon Hasels, give her nuts for her dyet, while a toothe's in her head, give her cheese for disgestion,[307] twil make her short winded; if that will not serve, set fire to the pan and blow her up with Gun-powder.

_Cittie wife_. I, I, mine Host, you are well imployed to give a man counsell against his wife; they are apt enough to ill I warrant ye.

_Cornu_. Mum, mum, my sweet wife, I know the world wel enough; I have an eare but I heare not, an eye but I see not, what's spoke against thee I regard not; mum, mum, I knowe the world well enough.

_Cittie wife_. I, and twere more seemely you were at your owne house too; your wife cannot goe abroad, but you must follow; husbands must bee fringed to their wives Petticoates. I pray you tarrie you, ile goe home.

_Cor_. Not so, my sweet wife, I am gone, I am vanisht; mum, mum, no anger shall stirre thee; no words, I know the world well inough.

_Hostis_. Twere better, by thrice deuce-ace, in a weeke every woman could awe her husband so well as she.

_Gracc_. Ist possible? s'foot, well I thought it had bene but a fable al this while that _Iole_ shold make great _Hercules_ spit on his thombes and spin, but now I see if a man were as great as _Caesar, Julius_ or _Augustus_, or both in one, a woman may take him downe.

_Hostis_. Gossip, faith ile use a little of your counsel, but my husband is so fat, I feare I shall never bring him to it.

_Grac_. Now, gentles, you that can, prepare a few teares to shed, for now enters a sad sceane of sorrowe.

_Enter Fryer and Course_.

_Fryer_. Man is flesh and flesh is fraile, The strongest man at length must faile; Man is flesh and flesh is grasse; Consuming time, as in a glasse, Now is up and now is downe And is not purchast by a Crowne; Now seede, and now we are sowen, Now we wither, now are mowen; _Frater noster_ heere doth lye, _In paupertate_ he did die, And now is gone his _viam longam_ That leades unto his _requiem aeternam_; But dying needie, poore and bare, Wanting to discharge the Fryer, Unto his grave hee's like to passe Having neither Dirge nor Masse: So set forward, let him goe, _Et benedicamus Domino_.

_Phy_. And then to _Apollo_ hollo, trees, hollo.--Tapster a few more cloathes to my feete.

_Omnes_. Oh heavens!

_Acut_. Gentles, keep your places, feare nothing; in the name of God, what art thou?

_Phy_. My Hearse and winding-sheete! what meanes this? why, Gentles, I am a living man.

_Acut_. Spirit, thou ly'st; thou deludest us.

_Citty wife_. Conjure him, Fryer.

_Fryer_. _In nomine Domini_ I thee charge, _Responde mihi_, heere at large, _Cujum pecus_, whence thou art, _Et quamobrem_ thou makest us start _In spiritus_ of the gloomy night? _Qui Venis huc_ us to affright, _Per trinitatem_ I there charge thee, _Quid tu vis hic_ to tell to me.

_Phy_. Why, Gentles, I am a living man, _Philautus_.[308] What instance shall I give ye? heare me I have sight, understanding, I know mine hostes, I see that Gentlewoman, I can feele.

_Scil_. Feele this Gentlewoman! s'lid if yee were ten Ghosts, ile not indure it.

_Acut_. Spirit, thou deludest us.

_Phy_. Why what should I say? will ye heare my voice, heeres not but--

_Scil_. Nay, that's a lye, then tis a living spirit, ile have a bout with him.

_Accut_. Oh sir, meddle not with shadowes. Spirit, thou lyest; I saw thee dead, [and] so did many moe.[309] We know ye wandring dwellers in the dark Have power to shape you like mortallitie To beguile the simple & deceve their soules. Thou art a Devill.

_Phy_. Sweet Gent, beholde I am flesh and blood; heeres my flesh, feele it.

_Cittie wife_. By my troth, methinkes hee should be alive. I could finde in my heart to feele his flesh.

_Grac_. Trie with your Rapier, _Accutus_; if he bleede he lives.

_Phy_. If I bleede I die; sweet Gentlemen, draw no blood.

_Accu_. How shall wee knowe thou art flesh and blood then?

_Grac_. Take heede, _Accutus_, heele blast thee.

_Phy_. What instance shall I give ye? I am _Phylautus_,[310] he that must needes confesse, he was drunk in your companies last day; sweet Gentlemen, conceive me aright.

_Accut_. Why true, true, that we know and[311] those swilling bowels. Death did arrest thee, many saw thee deade, Else needles were these rites of funeralls. And since that time, till now, no breath was knowne Flye from you; and twentie times the houre-glasse Hath turned his upside downe; and twenty times, The nimble current sand hath left his upper roome. To ly beneath, since sparke of life appeard; In all which time my care imploide it self To give the[e] rights of buriall: now, if you live, Who so glad as I?

_Phy_. Sir, your love has showne it selfe aboundant, but the cold aire is a meanes to devorce me from your companies: mine host, let me crave passage to my chamber.

_Host_. Out of my dores, knave; thou enterest not my dores, I have no chalke in my house, my posts shall not be garded with a little sing song, _Si nihil attuleris, ibis, Homere, foras_.

_Accut. Ha! how now man? see'st now any errors? Nay, this is nothing; he hath but showne A patterne of himself, what thou shalt finde In others; search through the Globe of earth, If there mongst twentie two thou doost find Honester then himself ile be buried straight. Now thinke what shame tis to be vilde, And how vilde to be drunk: look round! where? Nay looke up, beholde yon Christall pallace. There sits an ubiquitarie Judge From whom _arcana nulla abscondita_, That see's all and at pleasure punisheth; Thou canst not scape scot free, how cans't thou? Why, sencelesse man in that sinne will betray His father, brother, nay, himselfe;[312] feares not To commit the worst of evils, secure if Thunder-boults should drop from heaven, dreading Nor heaven, nor hell; indeede his best state Is worse then least, prised at highest rate.

_Ser_. This critique is hoarsh [_sic_], unsaverie, and reproofeful; avoyd him.

_Scil_. Hee speakes well, but I like not his dispraysing of drunkennes; tis Phisicke to me and it makes me to sleep like a horse with my nose in the manger. Come, sweet heart.

_Hostis_. Signior, _Philautus_, I pray ye a word. [_Exit_.

_Acut_. How now, whispering? s'foot if they should give our purpose another crosse point, where are we then? note, note.

_Hostis_. Heere take the key, convey yourself into the Chamber, but in any case take heede my husband see you not.

_Phy_. Feare not, Gentles, be thanks the guerden of your love till time give better abilitie. [_Exit_.

_Acut_. Ha! nay s'foot, I must claw out another device, we must not part so, _Graccus_; prethee keepe the sceane, til I fetch more actors to fill it fuller.

_Gra_. But prethee, let me partake.

_Acut_. Not till I returne, pardon me. [_Exit_.

_Hostis_. By my troth Gossip, I am halfe sick of a conceit.

_Citty wife_. What, woman? passion of my heart, tell me your greefs.

_Hostis_. I shall goe to court now, and attired like an old Darie woman, a Ruffe holland of eight groates, three inches deep of the olde cut, and a hat as far out of fashion as a close placket.

_Cittie wife_. Why I hope your husband is able to maintain you better, are there not nights as well as daies? does he not sleepe sometimes? has he no pockets about him, cannot you search his breeches? anything you find in his breeches is your owne.

_Hostis_. But may a woman doe that with safety?

_Cittie wife_. I, and more, why should she not? why what is his is yours, what's yours your owne.

_Hostis_. The best hope I have is; you knowe my Guest Mistris _Gettica_, she has pawnd her Jewels to me already, and this night I look for her Hood and her tyer, or if the worst chance, I know I can intreate her to weare my cloathes, and let me goe in her attire to Court.

_Cittie wife_. Or if all faile, you may hire a good suit at a Jewes, or at a broakers; tis a common thing and speacially among the common sort.

_Enter Host and Constable_.

_Host_. To search through my house! I have no Varlets, no knaves, no stewd prunes, no she fierie phagies [faces?]; my Chambers are swept, my sinkes are all scowred, the honest shall come in, the knaves shall goe by; yet will I, maister Constable, goe search through my house, I care not a sheepes skin.

_Const_. We are compeld to doe it, mine host; a Gentleman is robd last night, & we are to search every privy corner.

_Host_. Mine host is true Mettall, a man of reputation, a true _Holefernes_, he loves juice of grapes, and welcom, maister Constable. [_Exit_.

_Acut_. _Graccus_, how likst thou this?

_Grac_. Excellent, for now must he needes fall into Constables hands, and if he have any grace, twil appear in his face, when he shall be carried through the streete in a white sheet; twill be a good penance for his fault.

_Hostis_. Now fortune favour that my husband find him not.

_Cittie wife_. Heele be horne mad & never able to indure it: why, woman, if he had but as much man in him as a Maribone, heele take the burthen uppon his own necke and never discover you.

_Hostis_. Alas, heere they come, lets away, Gossip.
[_Exeunt_.

_Phy_. _Fortune_,[313] _my foe, why doost, &c_.

_Acut_. Oh fye, thats bitter prethe goe comfort him.

_Grac_. Faith he should be innocent by his garment; Signior, I grieve for this, but if I can help, looke for it.

_Phy_. I thanke ye, sir.

_Const_. We must contaminate our office, pray regard us as little as ye can. [_Exit_.

_Accut_. Me thinkes this shold put him quite out of tune now, so let him goe now to mine Host; theres he and hee, and hee,

Theres shee, and she, ile have a bout with all:
And critiques honneys sweetest mixt with gal.

[_Exeunt_.

[_Scene_ 2.]

_Enter Host, Cornutus_.

_Host_. Goe to, there's knaves in my house! I know of no Varlets, I have an eye has his sence, a brain that can reach, I have bene cald Polititian, my wife is my wife. I am her top, i'me her head: if mine Host say the word, the Mouse[314] shall be dun.

_Corn_. Not so my sweet Host, mum, mum, no words against your wife; he that meanes to live quiet, to sleep in cleane sheetes, a Pillowe under his head, his dyet drest cleanely, mum, mum, no words against his wife.

_Host_. Thar't a foole, thar't a foole, bee rulde by mine host, shew thy self a brave man, of the true seede of _Troy_, a gallant _Agamemnon_; tha'st a shrew to thy wife, if shee crosse thy brave humors, kicke thy heele at her huckle[315] bone.

_Enter Accutus_.

_Acut_. Gentles, most happily encountered, how good hap hath turnd two labours into one! I was addrest to both, and at once I have met both, sure I must intreate that you must not deny.

_Host_. Say on, my sweete bullie, mine Host will attend thee; speake roundly to the purpose, and welcome, my bullie.

_Accut_. Marrie thus, there are[316] great revels & shews preparde to beautifie the nuptials of _Lentulus_, and _Tully_, in which the Cittizens have the least share; now, would but you and some others that I shall collect,

Joyne hands with me in some queint jest,
Our shew shall deserve grace, and brave the rest.

_Host_, I have thee, brave spirit, tha'rt of the true seede of _Troy_, lets be merrie and wise, merrie hearts live long; mine Host, my brave Host, with his neighbor _Cornutus_ shall bee two of the Maskers, and the Morrice shall be daunc'd.

_Cor_. Not so, mine Host. I dare not doe so, t'will distemper my wife, my house will be unquiet; mum, mum, I know the world, well enough.

_Host_. Thou shall goe, saies mine Host, merrie hearts live long; welcome, bullie! mine Host shall make one, so shall my _Cornutus_, for if I say the word the mouse shall be dun.

_Enter Bos with Porters_.

_Porters_. Save ye mine Host, heeres a parcell of Corne was directed to be delivered at your house.

_Host_. What ware, my little Atlas, what ware is it?

2 _Por_. I know not, but i'me sure tis as heavie as a horse and--

1 _Por_. I thinke, tis a barrel of oyle, for it spurg'd at my backe.

_Bos_. It was oyle, for I drew the Tap.

_Grac_. What, _Bos_, what mak'st thou heere?

_Acc_. Oh, _chara_[317] _deum soboles, magnum bovis incrementum_. _Bos_, art there, there?

_Bos_. As sure as you are there, Signior.

_Grac_. _Bos_, will ye not forsake your Cabbin?

_Bos_. Oh sir, he that has not a tilde house must bee glad of a thatch house. May I crave a suite of you, signior?

_Grac_. What suit, _Bos_?

_Bos_. What you please, beggars must not chuse.

_Accut_. _Bos_ is growne misticall, hee's too dark.

_Bos_. I speake _Hebrew_ indeede, like _Adam_ and _Eve_, before they fel to spinning; not a rag.

_Grac_. What, naked, _Bos_?

_Bos_. As ye see, will ye heare my suite, signior?

_Gra_. Drunk, & his cloathes stoln, what theef would do it?

_Bos_. Any theefe, sir, but no true[318] man.

_Gra_. Wel, _Bos_, to obtaine a suit at my handes, and to doe some pennance for your fault, you shall heere maintaine an argument in the defence of drunkennes. Mine Host shall heere it, ile be your opponent, _Acutus_ moderator: wilt thou doe it?

_Host_. A mad merrie grig;[319] all good spirits; wilt thou doe it, _Bos_?

_Bos_. Ile doo't.

_Grac_. Seate yee, heres my place; now, _Bos_, propound.

_Bos_. Drunkenness is a vertue.

_Gra_. Your proofe.

_Bos_. Good drink is full of vertue, Now full of good drink is drunke; _Ergo_, to be drunke is to be vertuous.

_Grac_. I deny it: good drinke is full of vice, Drinke takes away the sences, Man that is sencelesse is vitious; _Ergo_, good drinke is full of vice.

_Bos_. I deny it still: good drinke makes good bloud, Good blood needes no Barber, _Ergo_, tis good to drinke good drinke.

_Accu_. Hee holdes ye hard, _Graccus_.

_Bos_. Heeres stronger proofe: drunkennes ingenders with two of the morrall vertues, and sixe of the lyberall sciences.

_Gra_. Let him proove that and Ile yeeld.

_Host_. A mad spirit, yfaith.

_Bos_. A drunkard is valiant and lyberall; heele outface _Mars_, brave _Hercules_, and feares not the Devill; then for the most part hee's liberal, for heele give all the cloathes off his back, though hee weepe like a Widowe all the day following; nay for the sciences, hee's a good phisitian, hee vomits himself rarelie and will giue any man else a vomit, that lookes on him (if he have not a verie good stomacke); perfect in Geomitrie, for he hangs in the aire by his own conceite, and feeles no ground; and hee's all musicall, the world turns round with him, everie face in the painted cloath, shewes like a Fairie dauncing about him, and everie spar in the house a minstrell.

_Grac_. Good: forward.

_Bos_. Then hee's a good Lawyer, for hees never without a _fierie facies_, & the least _Capias_ will take his _habeas Corpus_: besides, another point of a Lawyere, heele raile and rave against his dearest friends and make the world think they are enemies, when the next day theile laugh, bee fat and drunk together: and a rare Astronomer, for he has starres twinckling in his eyes in the darkest night when a wise man discernes none in the firmament, and will take great paines in the practise, for lay him on his backe in the open fields over night, and you shal be sure to finde him there in the morning. Have I sed well or shall I give you a stronger proofe? An honest man will be as good as his word: Signior _Graccus_ is an honest man, _Ergo_, I must have a new suite.

_Accu_. The moderator concludes so, _Graccus_ is overthrown so far as the damage of the suite, so away with him; come, our fire will out strip us; mine Host and you wee expect your companies; we must crave absence awhile better to furnishe our purposes: the time of day to ye.

_Host_. Farwel, my good bullies, mine Host has sed and the mouse is dun.

[_Exeunt_.

[ACT THE FIFTH.

_Scene_ 1.]

_Enter the dumb shew of the marriage, Lentulus, Tully, and the rest.

Enter Hostis in Getticaes apparel, Getic. in hers, & Mistris Dama_.

_Hostis_. Come, Gossip, by my troth, I cannot keepe my hood in frame.

_Cittie wife_. Let me helpe ye, woman.

_Get_. Sir, we shall be troublesome to ye.

_Gra_. Oh urge not that I pray ye.

_Get_. I pray ye what shewe will be heere to night? I have seen the _Babones_ already, the _Cittie of new Ninivie_[320] and _Julius Caesar_, acted by the Mammets.

_Grac_. Oh, gentlewoman, those are showes for those places they are used in; marry, heere you must expect some rare device, as _Diana_ bathing herself, being discovered or occulated by _Acteon_, he was tranfigured to a hart, & werried to death with his own dogs.