Every Man in His Humour Part 15

PROS. Oh rare! your cousin's discourse is simply suited, all in oaths.

LOR. JU. Ay, he lacks nothing but a little light stuff, to draw them out withal, and he were rarely fitted to the time.

[EXEUNT.]

ACT III. SCENE III.

ENTER Th.o.r.eLLO WITH COB.

THO. Ha, how many are there, sayest thou?

COB. Marry, sir, your brother, Signior Prospero.

THO. Tut, beside him: what strangers are there, man?

COB. Strangers? let me see, one, two; ma.s.s, I know not well, there's so many.

THO. How? so many?

COB. Ay, there's some five or six of them at the most.

THO. A swarm, a swarm?

Spite of the devil, how they sting my heart!

How long hast thou been coming hither, Cob?

COB. But a little while, sir.

THO. Didst thou come running?

COB. No, sir.

THO. Tut, then I am familiar with thy haste.

Ban to my fortunes: what meant I to marry?

I that before was rank'd in such content, My mind attired in smooth silken peace, Being free master of mine own free thoughts, And now become a slave? what, never sigh, Be of good cheer, man: for thou art a cuckold, 'Tis done, 'tis done: nay, when such flowing store, Plenty itself falls in my wife's lap, The Cornucopiae will be mine, I know. But, Cob, What entertainment had they? I am sure My sister and my wife would bid them welcome, ha?

COB. Like enough: yet I heard not a word of welcome.

THO. No, their lips were seal'd with kisses, and the voice Drown'd in a flood of joy at their arrival, Had lost her motion, state, and faculty.

Cob, which of them was't that first kiss'd my wife?

(My sister, I should say,) my wife, alas, I fear not her: ha? who was it, say'st thou?

COB. By my troth, sir, will you have the truth of it?

THO. Oh ay, good Cob: I pray thee.

COB. G.o.d's my judge, I saw n.o.body to be kiss'd, unless they would have kiss'd the post in the middle of the warehouse; for there I left them all, at their tobacco, with a pox.

THO. How? were they not gone in then ere thou cam'st?

COB. Oh no, sir.

THO. Spite of the devil, what do I stay here then?

Cob, follow me.

[EXIT THO.]

COB. Nay, soft and fair, I have eggs on the spit; I cannot go yet sir: now am I for some divers reasons hammering, hammering revenge: oh, for three or four gallons of vinegar, to sharpen my wits: Revenge, vinegar revenge, russet revenge; nay, an he had not lien in my house, 'twould never have grieved me; but being my guest, one that I'll be sworn my wife has lent him her smock off her back, while his own s.h.i.+rt has been at was.h.i.+ng: p.a.w.ned her neckerchers for clean bands for him: sold almost all my platters to buy him tobacco; and yet to see an ingrat.i.tude wretch strike his host; well, I hope to raise up an host of furies for't: here comes M. Doctor.

[ENTER DOCTOR CLEMENT, LORENZO SENIOR, PETO.]

CLEM. What's Signior Th.o.r.ello gone?

PET. Ay, sir.

CLEM. Heart of me, what made him leave us so abruptly?

How now, sirrah; what make you here? what would you have, ha?

COB. An't please your wors.h.i.+p, I am a poor neighbour of your wors.h.i.+p's.

CLEM. A neighbour of mine, knave?

COB. Ay, sir, at the sign of the Water-tankard, hard by the Green Lattice: I have paid scot and lot there any time this eighteen years.

CLEM. What, at the Green Lattice?

COB. No sir: to the parish: marry, I have seldom scaped scot-free at the Lattice.

CLEM. So: but what business hath my neighbour?

COB. An't like your wors.h.i.+p, I am come to crave the peace of your wors.h.i.+p.

CLEM. Of me, knave? peace of me, knave? did I e'er hurt thee? did I ever threaten thee? or wrong thee? ha?

COB. No, G.o.d's my comfort, I mean your wors.h.i.+p's warrant, for one that hath wrong'd me, sir: his arms are at too much liberty, I would fain have them bound to a treaty of peace, an I could by any means compa.s.s it.

LOR. Why, dost thou go in danger of thy life for him?

COB. No, sir; but I go in danger of my death every hour by his means; an I die within a twelve-month and a day, I may swear, by the laws of the land, that he kill'd me.

CLEM. How? how, knave? swear he kill'd thee? what pretext?

what colour hast thou for that?

COB. Marry, sir, both black and blue, colour enough, I warrant you, I have it here to shew your wors.h.i.+p.

CLEM. What is he that gave you this, sirrah?

COB. A gentleman in the city, sir.