Every Man out of His Humour Act 5. Scene 4

A ROOM AT THE MITRE.

ENTER CARLO.

Car.
Holla! where be these shot-sharks?

ENTER DRAWER.

Draw.
By and by; you are welcome, good master Buffone.

Car.
Where's George? call me George hither, quickly.

Draw.
What wine please you have, sir? I'll draw you that's neat, master
Buffone.

Car.
Away, neophite, do as I bid thee, bring my dear George to me: —

ENTER GEORGE.

Mass, here he comes.

George.
Welcome, master Carlo.

Car.
What, is supper ready, George?

George.
Ay, sir, almost: Will you have the cloth laid, master Carlo?

Car.
O, what else? Are none of the gallants come yet?

George.
None yet, sir.

Car.
Stay, take me with you, George; let me have a good fat loin of pork
laid to the fire, presently.

George.
It shall, sir.

Car.
And withal, hear you, draw me the biggest shaft you have out of the butt you wot of; away, you know my meaning, George; quick!

George.
Done, sir.

[EXIT.

Car.
I never hungered so much for anything in my life, as I do to know our gallants' success at court; now is that lean, bald-rib Macilente, that salt villain, plotting some mischievous device, and lies a soaking in their frothy humours like a dry crust, till he has drunk 'em all up: Could the pummice but hold up his eyes at other men's happiness, in any reasonable proportion, 'slid, the slave were to be loved next heaven, above honour, wealth, rich fare, apparel, wenches, all the delights of the belly and the groin, whatever.

RE-ENTER GEORGE WITH TWO JUGS OF WINE.

George.
Here, master Carlo.

Car.
Is it right, boy?

George.
Ay, sir, I assure you 'tis right.

Car.
Well said, my dear George, depart: [EXIT GEORGE.] — Come, my small gimblet, you in the false scabbard, away, so! [PUTS FORTH THE DRAWER, AND
SHUTS THE DOOR.] Now to you, sir Burgomaster, let's taste of your bounty.

Mit.
What, will he deal upon such quantities of wine, alone?

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You will perceive that, sir.

Car.
[DRINKS.] Ay, marry, sir, here's purity; O, George — I could bite off his nose for this now, sweet rogue, he has drawn nectar, the very soul of the grape! I'll wash my temples with some on't presently, and drink some half a score draughts; 'twill heat the brain, kindle my imagination, I shall talk nothing but crackers and fire-works to-night. So, sir! please you to be here, sir, and I here: so.

[SETS THE TWO CUPS ASUNDER, DRINKS WITH THE ONE, AND PLEDGES WITH THE
OTHER, SPEAKING FOR EACH OF THE CUPS, AND DRINKING ALTERNATELY.

This is worth the observation, signior.

Car.
1 CUP. Now, sir, here's to you; and I present you with so much of my
love.

2 CUP. I take it kindly from you, sir. [DRINKS], and will return you the like proportion; but withal, sir, remembering the merry night we had at the countess's, you know where, sir.

1 CUP. By heaven, you put me in mind now of a very necessary office, which I will propose in your pledge, sir; the health of that honourable countess, and the sweet lady that sat by her, sir.

2 CUP. I do vail to it with reverence [DRINKS]. And now, signior, with these ladies, I'll be bold to mix the health of your divine mistress.

1 CUP. Do you know her, sir?

2 CUP. O lord, sir, ay; and in the respectful memory and mention of her, I could wish this wine were the most precious drug in the world.

1 CUP. Good faith, sir, you do honour me in't exceedingly. [DRINKS.]

Mit.
Whom should he personate in this, signior?

Faith, I know not, sir; observe, observe him.

2 CUP. If it were the basest filth, or mud that runs in the channel, I am
bound to pledge it respectively, sir. [DRINKS.] And now, sir, here is a replenish'd bowl, which I will reciprocally turn upon you, to the health of the count Frugale.

1 CUP. The count Frugale's health, sir? I'll pledge it on my knees, by this light.
[KNEELS.

2 CUP. Nay, do me right, sir.

1 CUP. So I do, in faith.

2 CUP. Good faith you do not; mine was fuller.

1 CUP. Why, believe me, it was not.

2 CUP. Believe me it was; and you do lie.

1 CUP. Lie, sir!

2 CUP. Ay, sir.

1 CUP. 'Swounds! you rascal!

2 CUP. O, come, stab if you have a mind to it.

1 CUP. Stab! dost thou think I dare not?

Car.
[SPEAKS IN HIS OWN PERSON.] Nay, I beseech you, gentlemen, what means this? nay, look, for shame respect your reputations.

[OVERTURNS WINE, POT, CUPS, AND ALL.

ENTER MACILENTE.

Maci.
Why, how now, Carlo! what humour's this?

Car.
O, my good mischief! art thou come? where are the rest, where are the rest?

Maci.
Faith, three of our ordnance are burst.

Car.
Burst! how comes that?

Maci.
Faith, overcharged, overcharged.

Car.
But did not the train hold?

Maci.
O, yes, and the poor lady is irrecoverably blown up.

Car.
Why, but which of the munition is miscarried, ha?

Maci.
Imprimis, sir Puntarvolo; next, the Countenance and Resolution.

Car.
How, how, for the love of wit?

Maci.
Troth, the Resolution is proved recreant; the Countenance hath
changed his copy; and the passionate knight is shedding funeral tears over his departed dog.

Car.
What! is his dog dead?

Maci.
Poison'd, 'tis thought; marry, how, or by whom, that's left for some
cunning woman here o' the Bank-side to resolve. For my part, I know nothing more than that we are like to have an exceeding melancholy supper of it.

Car.
'Slife, and I had purposed to be extraordinarily merry, I had drunk
off a good preparative of old sack here; but will they come, will they come?

Maci.
They will assuredly come; marry, Carlo, as thou lov'st me, run over
'em all freely to-night, and especially the knight; spare no sulphurous jest that may come out of that sweaty forge of thine; but ply them with all manner of shot, minion, saker, culverin, or anything, what thou wilt.

Car.
I warrant thee, my dear case of petrionels; so I stand not in dread
of thee, but that thou'lt second me.

Maci.
Why, my good German tapster, I will.

Car.
What George! Lomtero, Lomtero, etc.
[SINGS AND DANCES.

RE-ENTER GEORGE.

George.
Did you call, master Carlo?

Car.
More nectar, George: Lomtero, etc.

George.
Your meat's ready, sir, an your company were come.

Car.
Is the loin pork enough?

George.
Ay, sir, it is enough.

[EXIT.

Maci.
Pork! heart, what dost thou with such a greasy dish? I think thou
dost varnish thy face with the fat on't, it looks so like a glue-pot.

Car.
True, my raw-boned rogue, and if thou wouldst farce thy lean ribs
with it too, they would not, like ragged laths, rub out so many doublets as they do; but thou know'st not a good dish, thou. O, it's the only nourishing meat in the world. No marvel though that saucy, stubborn generation, the Jews, were forbidden it; for what would they have done, well pamper'd with fat pork, that durst murmur at their Maker out of garlick and onions? 'Slight! fed with it, the whoreson strummel-patch'd, goggle-eyed grumble-dories, would have gigantomachised —

RE-ENTER GEORGE WITH WINE.

Well said, my sweet George, fill, fill.

Mit.
This savours too much of profanation.

Cor.
O — — Servetur ad imum,
Qualis ab incoepto processerit, et sibi constet.
"The necessity of his vein compels a toleration, for; bar this, and dash him out of humour before his time."

Car.
"'Tis an axiom in natural philosophy, what comes nearest the nature of that it feeds, converts quicker to nourishment, and doth sooner essentiate." Now nothing in flesh and entrails assimilates or resembles man more than a hog or swine.
[DRINKS.

Maci.
True; and he, to requite their courtesy, oftentimes doffeth his own
nature, and puts on theirs; as when he becomes as churlish as a hog, or as drunk as a sow; but to your conclusion.
[DRINKS.

Car.
Marry, I say, nothing resembling man more than a swine, it follows,
nothing can be more nourishing; for indeed (but that it abhors from our nice nature) if we fed upon one another, we should shoot up a great deal faster, and thrive much better; I refer me to your usurous cannibals, or such like; but since it is so contrary, pork, pork, is your only feed.

Maci.
I take it, your devil be of the same diet; he would never have
desired to have been incorporated into swine else. — O, here comes the melancholy mess; upon 'em, Carlo, charge, charge!

ENTER PUNTARVOLO, FASTIDIOUS BRISK, SOGLIARDO, AND FUNGOSO.

Car.
'Fore God, sir Puntarvolo, I am sorry for your heaviness: body o'
me, a shrew'd mischance! why, had you no unicorn's horn, nor bezoar's stone about you, ha?

Punt.
Sir, I would request you be silent.

Maci.
Nay, to him again.

Car.
Take comfort, good knight, if your cat have recovered her catarrh,
fear nothing; your dog's mischance may be holpen.

Fast.
Say how, sweet Carlo; for, so God mend me, the poor knight's moans draw me into fellowship of his misfortunes. But be not discouraged, good sir Puntarvolo, I am content your adventure shall be performed upon your cat.

Maci.
I believe you, musk-cod, I believe you; for rather than thou
would'st make present repayment, thou would'st take it upon his own bare return from Calais
[ASIDE.

Car.
Nay, 'slife, he'd be content, so he were well rid out of his company,
to pay him five for one, at his next meeting him in Paul's.
[ASIDE TO MACILENTE.] — But for your dog, sir Puntarvolo, if he be not out-right dead, there is a friend of mine, a quack-salver, shall put life in him again, that's certain.

Fung.
O, no, that comes too late.

Maci.
'Sprecious! knight, will you suffer this?

Punt.
Drawer, get me a candle and hard wax presently.

[EXIT GEORGE.

Sog.
Ay, and bring up supper; for I am so melancholy.

Car.
O, signior, where's your Resolution?

Sog.
Resolution! hang him, rascal: O, Carlo, if you love me, do not
mention him.

Car.
Why, how so?

Sog.
O, the arrantest crocodile that ever Christian was acquainted with.
By my gentry, I shall think the worse of tobacco while I live, for his
sake: I did think him to be as tall a man —

Maci.
Nay, Buffone, the knight, the knight
[ASIDE TO CARLO.

Car.
'Slud, he looks like an image carved out of box, full of knots; his
face is, for all the world, like a Dutch purse, with the mouth downward, his beard the tassels; and he walks — let me see — as melancholy as one o' the master's side in the Counter. — Do you hear, sir Puntarvolo?

Punt.
Sir, I do entreat you, no more, but enjoin you to silence, as you
affect your peace.

Car.
Nay, but dear knight, understand here are none but friends, and such as wish you well, I would have you do this now; flay me your dog presently (but in any case keep the head) and stuff his skin well with straw, as you see these dead monsters at Bartholomew fair.

Punt.
I shall be sudden, I tell you.

Car.
O, if you like not that, sir, get me somewhat a less dog, and clap
into the skin; here's a slave about the town here, a Jew, one Yohan: or a fellow that makes perukes will glue it on artificially, it shall never be discern'd; besides, 'twill be so much the warmer for the hound to travel in, you know.

Maci.
Sir Puntarvolo, death, can you be so patient!

Car.
Or thus, sir; you may have, as you come through Germany, a familiar for little or nothing, shall turn itself into the shape of your dog, or any thing, what you will, for certain hours — [PUNTARVOLO STRIKES HIM] — Ods
my life, knight, what do you mean? you'll offer no violence, will you?
hold, hold!

RE-ENTER GEORGE, WITH WAX, AND A LIGHTED CANDLE.

Punt.
'Sdeath, you slave, you ban-dog, you!

Car.
As you love wit, stay the enraged knight, gentlemen.

Punt.
By my knighthood, he that stirs in his rescue, dies. — Drawer, begone!
[EXIT GEORGE.

Car.
Murder, murder, murder!

Punt.
Ay, are you howling, you wolf? — Gentlemen, as you tender your
lives, suffer no man to enter till my revenge be perfect. Sirrah, Buffone, lie down; make no exclamations, but down; down, you cur, or I will make thy blood flow on my rapier hilts.

Car.
Sweet knight, hold in thy fury, and 'fore heaven I'll honour thee
more than the Turk does Mahomet.

Punt.
Down, I say! [CARLO LIES DOWN.] — Who's there?
[KNOCKING WITHIN.

Cons.
[WITHIN.] Here's the constable, open the doors.

Car.
Good Macilente —

Punt.
Open no door; if the Adalantado of Spain were here he should not
enter: one help me with the light, gentlemen; you knock in vain, sir
officer.

Car.
'Et tu, Brute!'

Punt.
Sirrah, close your lips, or I will drop it in thine eyes, by heaven.

Car.
O! O!

Cons.
[WITHIN] Open the door, or I will break it open.

Maci.
Nay, good constable, have patience a little; you shall come in
presently; we have almost done.

[PUNTARVOLO SEALS UP CARLO'S LIPS.

Punt.
So, now, are you Out of your Humour, sir? Shift, gentlemen

[THEY ALL DRAW, AND RUN OUT, EXCEPT FUNGOSO, WHO CONCEALS HIMSELF BENEATH
THE TABLE.

ENTER CONSTABLE AND OFFICERS, AND SEIZE FASTIDIOUS AS HE IS RUSHING BY.

Cons.
Lay hold upon this gallant, and pursue the rest.

Fast.
Lay hold on me, sir, for what?

Cons.
Marry, for your riot here, sir, with the rest of your companions.

Fast.
My riot! master constable, take heed what you do. Carlo, did I
offer any violence?

Cons.
O, sir, you see he is not in case to answer you, and that makes you
so peremptory.

RE-ENTER GEORGE AND DRAWER.

Fast.
Peremptory! 'Slife, I appeal to the drawers, if I did him any hard
measure.

George.
They are all gone, there's none of them will be laid any hold on.

Cons.
Well, sir, you are like to answer till the rest can be found out.

Fast.
'Slid, I appeal to George here.

Cons.
Tut, George was not here: away with him to the Counter, sirs. —
Come, sir, you were best get yourself drest somewhere.

[EXEUNT CONST. AND OFFICERS, WITH FAST. AND CAR.

George.
Good lord, that master Carlo could not take heed, and knowing what
a gentleman the knight is, if he be angry.

Drawer.
A pox on 'em, they have left all the meat on our hands; would they
were choaked with it for me!

RE-ENTER MACILENTE.

Maci.
What, are they gone, sirs?

George.
O, here's master Macilente.

Maci.
[POINTING TO FUNGOSO.] Sirrah, George, do you see that concealment
there, that napkin under the table?

George.
'Ods so, signior Fungoso!

Maci.
He's good pawn for the reckoning; be sure you keep him here, and let him not go away till I come again, though he offer to discharge all; I'll return presently.

George.
Sirrah, we have a pawn for the reckoning.

Draw.
What, of Macilente?

George.
No; look under the table.

Fung.
[CREEPING OUT.] I hope all be quiet now; if I can get but forth of this street, I care not: masters, I pray you tell me, is the constable gone?

George.
What, master Fungoso!

Fung.
Was't not a good device this same of me, sirs?

George.
Yes, faith; have you been here all this while?

Fung.
O lord, ay; good sir, look an the coast be clear, I'd fain be going.

George.
All's clear, sir, but the reckoning; and that you must clear and
pay before you go, I assure you.

Fung.
I pay! 'Slight, I eat not a bit since I came into the house, yet.

Draw.
Why, you may when you please, 'tis all ready below that was bespoken.

Fung.
Bespoken! not by me, I hope?

George.
By you, sir! I know not that; but 'twas for you and your company,
I am sure.

Fung.
My company! 'Slid, I was an invited guest, so I was.

Draw.
Faith we have nothing to do with that, sir: they are all gone but
you, and we must be answered; that's the short and the long on't.

Fung.
Nay, if you will grow to extremities, my masters, then would this
pot, cup, and all were in my belly, if I have a cross about me.

George.
What, and have such apparel! do not say so, signior; that
mightily discredits your clothes.

Fung.
As I am an honest man, my tailor had all my money this morning, and yet I must be fain to alter my suit too. Good sirs, let me go, 'tis Friday night, and in good truth I have no stomach in the world to eat any thing.

Draw.
That's no matter, so you pay, sir.

Fung.
'Slight, with what conscience can you ask me to pay that I never
drank for?

George.
Yes, sir, I did see you drink once.

Fung.
By this cup, which is silver, but you did not; you do me infinite
wrong: I looked in the pot once, indeed, but I did not drink.

Draw.
Well, sir, if you can satisfy our master, it shall be all one to us.

WITHIN. George!

Fung.
By and by.

[EXEUNT.

Cor.
Lose not yourself now, signior.