The Devil Is an Ass Act 2 Scene 4 by Ben Jonson
The Devil Is an Ass Act 2 Scene 4 by Ben Jonson

The Devil Is an Ass Act 2 Scene 4

Ben Jonson * Track #13 On The Devil Is an Ass

Download "The Devil Is an Ass Act 2 Scene 4"

The Devil Is an Ass Act 2 Scene 4 by Ben Jonson

Performed by
Ben Jonson

The Devil Is an Ass Act 2 Scene 4 Annotated

Merecraft, Fitz-dottrell, Ingine.

Where are you, Sir?

Fit.
I see thou hast no Talent
This way, VVife. Up to thy Gallery; do Chuck,
Leave us to talk of it, who understand it.

Mer.
I think we ha' found a Place to fit you, now, Sir.
Glocester.

Fit.
O, no, I'll none!

Mer.
VVhy, Sir? Fit. 'Tis fatal.

Mer.
That you say right in. Spenser, I think the younger.
Had his last Honour thence. But, he was but Earl.

Fit.
I know not that, Sir. But Thomas of Woodstock,
I'm sure, was Duke, and he was made away
At Calice, as Duke Humphery was at Bury:
And Richard the Third, you know what end he came too.

Mer.
By m' faith you are cunning i' the Chronicle, Sir.

Fit.
No, I confess I ha't from the Play books,
And think they'are more Authentick.

Ing.
That's sure, Sir.

Mer.
VVhat say you (to this then)

[He whispers him of a Place.

Fit.
No, a noble House.
Pretends to that. I will do no Man wrong.

Mer.
Then take one Proposition more, and hear it
As past exception.

Fit.
What's that?

Mer.
To be Duke of those Lands, you shall recover: take
Your Title thence, Sir, Duke of the Drown'd Lands,
Or Drown'd-land.

Fit.
Ha? that last has a good sound!
I like it well. The Duke of Drown'd-land?

Ing.
Yes; It goes like Groen-land, Sir, if you mark it.

Mer.
I,
And drawing thus your honour from the work,
You make the Reputation of that, greater;
And stay't the longer i' your Name.

Fit.
'Tis true.
Drown'd-lands will live in Drown'd-land!

Mer.
Yes, when you
Ha' no foot left; as that must be, Sir, one day.
And, though it tarry in your Heirs, some Forty,
Fifty Descents, the longer liver, at last, y et,
Must thrust 'em out on't: if no Quirk in Law,
Or odd Vice o' their own not do it first.
We see those changes, daily: the fair Lands,
That were the Clyents, are the Lawyers, now:
And those rich Mannors, there, of Good-man Taylors,
Had once more Wood upon 'em, then the Yard,
By which th' were measur'd out for the last Purchase.
Nature hath these vicissitudes. She makes
No man a state of Perpetuety, Sir.

Fit.
Yo' are i' the right. Let's in then, and conclude.

[He spies Devil.

I my sight, again? I'll talk with you anon.

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