I see by much doctrine and impulsion, it may be effected: stand by. The Turk, in this divine discipline, is admirable, exceeding all the potentates of the earth; still waited on by mutes; and all his commands so executed; yea, even in the war (as I have heard) and in his marches, most of his charges and directions, given by signs, and with silence: an exquisite art! And I am heartily ashamed, and angry oftentimes, that the Princes of Christendom should suffer a Barbarian to transcend 'em in so high a point of felicity. I will practise it hereafter. One winds a horn without. How now? Oh! Oh! What villain? What prodigy of mankind is that? Look. Exit Mute. The horn again. Oh! Cut his throat, cut his throat: what murderer, hell-hound, devil can this be?

 

Enter Mute

 

MUT. It is a post from the court ––

MOR. Out, rogue, and must thou blow thy horn too?

MUT. Alas, it is a post from the court, sir, that says, he must speak with you, pain of death ––

MOR. Pain of thy life, be silent.

 

Scene 2

Enter Truewit with a posthorn

 

TRU. By your leave, sir (I am a stranger here) is your name, Master Morose? Is your name, Master Morose? Fishes! Pythagoreans all! This is strange! What say you, sir, nothing? Has Harpocrates been here with his club among you? Well, sir, I will believe you to be the man at this time: I will venture upon you, sir. Your friends at court commend 'em to you, sir ––

(MOR. Oh men! Oh manners! Was there ever such an impudence?)

TRU. And are extremely solicitous for you, sir.

MOR. Whose knave are you!

TRU. Mine own knave, and your compeer, sir.

MOR. Fetch me my sword ––

TRU. You shall taste the one half of my dagger, if you do, groom, and you, the other, if you stir, sir: be patient, I charge you, in the King's name, and hear me without insurrection. They say you are to marry? To marry! Do you mark, sir?

MOR. How then, rude companion!

TRU. Marry, your friends do wonder, sir, the Thames being so near, wherein you may drown so handsomely; or London Bridge, at a low fall, with a fine leap, to hurry you down the stream; or such a delicate steeple i' the town as Bow, to vault from; or a braver height, as Paul's; or if you affected to do it nearer home, and a shorter way, an excellent garret window into the street; or a beam in the said garret, with this halter; He shows him a halter. which they have sent, and desire that you would sooner commit your grave head to this knot than to the wedlock noose; or take a little sublimate, and go out of the world, like a rat; or a fly (as one said) with a straw i' your arse: any way, rather, than to follow this goblin matrimony. Alas, sir, do you ever think to find a chaste wife in these times? Now? When there are so many masques, plays, puritan preachings, madfolks, and other strange sights to be seen daily, private and public? If you had lived in King Ethelred's time, sir, or Edward the Confessor's, you might, perhaps, have found in some cold country hamlet, then, a dull frosty wench, would have been contented with one man: now they will as soon be pleased with one leg, or one eye. I'll tell you, sir, the monstrous hazards you shall run with a wife.

MOR. Good sir! Have I ever cozened any friends of yours of their land? Bought their possessions? Taken forfeit of their mortgage? Begged a reversion from 'em? Bastarded their issue? What have I done, that may deserve this?

TRU. Nothing, sir, that I know, but your itch of marriage.

MOR. Why? If I had made an assassinate upon your father; vitiated your mother; ravished your sisters ––

TRU. I would kill you, sir, I would kill you, if you had.

MOR.