Every Man out of His Humour Act 5. Scene 2

AN APARTMENT IN THE PALACE.

ENTER SAVIOLINA, PUNTARVOLO, FASTIDIOUS BRISK, AND FUNGOSO.

Sav.
Why, I thought, sir Puntarvolo, you had been gone your voyage?

Punt.
Dear and most amiable lady, your divine beauties do bind me to those offices, that I cannot depart when I would.

Sav.
'Tis most court-like spoken, sir; but how might we do to have a sight
of your dog and cat?

Fast.
His dog is in the court, lady.

Sav.
And not your cat? how dare you trust her behind you, sir.

Punt.
Troth, madam, she hath sore eyes, and she doth keep her chamber;
marry, I have left her under sufficient guard there are two of my followers to attend her.

Sav.
I'll give you some water for her eyes. When do you go, sir?

Punt.
Certes, sweet lady, I know not.

Fast.
He doth stay the rather, madam, to present your acute judgment with
so courtly and well parted a gentleman as yet your ladyship hath never seen.

Sav.
What is he, gentle monsieur Brisk? not that gentleman?

[POINTS TO FUNGOSO.

Fast.
No, lady, this is a kinsman to justice Silence.

Punt.
Pray, sir, give me leave to report him. He's a gentleman, lady, of
that rare and admirable faculty, as, I protest, I know not his like in
Europe; he is exceedingly valiant, an excellent scholar, and so exactly travelled, that he is able, in discourse, to deliver you a model of any prince's court in the world; speaks the languages with that purity of phrase, and facility of accent, that it breeds astonishment; his wit, the most exuberant, and, above wonder, pleasant, of all that ever entered the concave of this ear.

Fast.
'Tis most true, lady; marry, he is no such excellent proper man.

Punt.
His travels have changed his complexion, madam.

Sav.
O, sir Puntarvolo, you must think every man was not born to have my
servant Brisk's feature.

Punt.
But that which transcends all, lady; he doth so peerlessly imitate
any manner of person for gesture, action, passion, or whatever —

Fast.
Ay, especially a rustic or a clown, madam, that it is not possible
for the sharpest-sighted wit in the world to discern any sparks of the gentleman in him, when he does it.

Sav.
O, monsieur Brisk, be not so tyrannous to confine all wits within the compass of your own; not find the sparks of a gentleman in him, if he be a gentleman!

Fung.
No, in truth, sweet lady, I believe you cannot.

Sav.
Do you believe so? why, I can find sparks of a gentleman in you, sir.

Punt.
Ay, he is a gentleman, madam, and a reveller.

Fung.
Indeed, I think I have seen your ladyship at our revels.

Sav.
Like enough, sir; but would I might see this wonder you talk of; may
one have a sight of him for any reasonable sum?

Punt.
Yes, madam, he will arrive presently.

Sav.
What, and shall we see him clown it?

Fast.
I'faith, sweet lady, that you shall; see, here he comes.

ENTER MACILENTE AND SOGLIARDO.

Punt.
This is he! pray observe him, lady.

Sav.
Beshrew me, he clowns it properly indeed.

Punt.
Nay, mark his courtship.

Sog.
How does my sweet lady? hot and moist? beautiful and lusty? ha!

Sav.
Beautiful, an it please you, sir, but not lusty.

Sog.
O ho, lady, it pleases you to say so, in truth: And how does my
sweet lady? in health? 'Bonaroba, quaeso, que novelles? que novelles?' sweet creature!

Sav.
O excellent! why, gallants, is this he that cannot be deciphered?
they were very blear-witted, i'faith, that could not discern the gentleman in him.

Punt.
But you do, in earnest, lady?

Sav.
Do I sir! why, if you had any true court-judgment in the carriage of
his eye, and that inward power that forms his countenance, you might perceive his counterfeiting as clear as the noon-day; alas — nay, if you would have tried my wit, indeed, you should never have told me he was a gentleman, but presented him for a true clown indeed; and then have seen if I could have deciphered him.

Fast.
'Fore God, her ladyship says true, knight: but does he not affect
the clown most naturally, mistress?

Punt.
O, she cannot but affirm that, out of the bounty of her judgment.

Sav.
Nay, out of doubt he does well, for a gentleman to imitate: but I
warrant you, he becomes his natural carriage of the gentleman, much better than his clownery.

Fast.
'Tis strange, in truth, her ladyship should see so far into him!

Punt.
Ay, is it not?

Sav.
Faith, as easily as may be; not decipher him, quoth you!

Fung.
Good sadness, I wonder at it

Maci.
Why, has she deciphered him, gentlemen?

Punt.
O, most miraculously, and beyond admiration.

Maci.
Is it possible?

Fast.
She hath gather'd most infallible signs of the gentleman in him,
that's certain.

Sav.
Why, gallants, let me laugh at you a little: was this your device,
to try my judgment in a gentleman?

Maci.
Nay, lady, do not scorn us, though you have this gift of perspicacy
above others. What if he should be no gentleman now, but a clown indeed, lady?

Punt.
How think you of that? would not your ladyship be Out of your Humour?

Fast.
O, but she knows it is not so.

Sav.
What if he were not a man, ye may as well say? Nay, if your worships could gull me so, indeed, you were wiser than you are taken for.

Maci.
In good faith, lady, he is a very perfect clown, both by father and
mother; that I'll assure you.

Sav.
O, sir, you are very pleasurable.

Maci.
Nay, do but look on his hand, and that shall resolve you; look you,
lady, what a palm here is.

Sog.
Tut, that was with holding the plough.

Maci.
The plough! did you discern any such thing in him, madam?

Fast.
Faith no, she saw the gentleman as bright as noon-day, she; she
deciphered him at first.

Maci.
Troth, I am sorry your ladyship's sight should be so suddenly struck.

Sav.
O, you are goodly beagles!

Fast.
What, is she gone?

Sog.
Nay, stay, sweet lady: 'que novelles? que novelles?'

Sav.
Out, you fool, you!

[EXIT IN ANGER.

Fung.
She's Out of her Humour, i'faith.

Fast.
Nay, let's follow it while 'tis hot, gentlemen.

Punt.
Come, on mine honour we shall make her blush in the presence; my spleen is great with laughter.

Maci.
Your laughter will be a child of a feeble life, I believe, sir.
[ASIDE.] — Come, signior, your looks are too dejected, methinks; why mix you not mirth with the rest?

Fung.
Od's will, this suit frets me at the soul. I'll have it alter'd
to-morrow, sure.