You shall kill him with it, at the first, if you please. Why, I will learn you, by the true judgement of the eye, hand, and foot, to control any enemy's point i' the world. Should your adversary confront you with a pistol, 'twere nothing, by this hand, you should, by the same rule, control his bullet, in a line: except it were hail-shot and spread. What money ha' you about you, Master Matthew?
MAT. Faith, I ha' not past a two shillings or so.
BOB. 'Tis somewhat with the least: but come. We will have a bunch of radish, and salt, to taste our wine; and a pipe of tobacco, to close the orifice of the stomach: and then we'll call upon young Wellbred. Perhaps we shall meet the Corydon, his brother, there: and put him to the question.
Exeunt
Act II
Scene 1
Before Kitely's house
Enter Kitely, Cash, Downright
KIT.
Thomas, come hither.
There lies a note, within upon my desk,
Here, take my key: it is no matter, neither.
Where is the boy?
CAS.
Within, sir, i' the warehouse.
KIT.
Let him tell over, straight, that Spanish gold,
And weigh it, with the pieces of eight. Do you
See the delivery of those silver stuffs,
To Master Lucar. Tell him, if he will,
He shall ha' the grograms, at the rate I told him,
And I will meet him on the Exchange anon.
CAS.
Good, sir.
Exit
KIT.
Do you see that fellow, brother Downright?
DOW.
Aye, what of him?
KIT.
He is a jewel, brother.
I took him of a child, up, at my door,
And christened him, gave him mine own name, Thomas,
Since bred him at the Hospital; where proving
A toward imp, I called him home, and taught him
So much as I have made him my cashier,
And given him, who had none, a surname, Cash:
And find him in his place so full of faith
That I durst trust my life into his hands.
DOW.
So would not I in any bastard's, brother,
As it is like he is, although I knew
Myself his father. But you said you had somewhat
To tell me, gentle brother, what is't? What is't?
KIT.
Faith, I am very loth to utter it,
As fearing it may hurt your patience:
But that I know your judgement is of strength,
Against the nearness of affection –
DOW.
What need this circumstance? Pray you be direct.
KIT.
I will not say how much I do ascribe
Unto your friendship; nor in what regard
I hold your love: but let my past behaviour,
And usage of your sister but confirm
How well I've been affected to your –
DOW.
You are too tedious, come to the matter, the matter.
KIT.
Then, without further ceremony, thus.
My brother Wellbred, sir, I know not how,
Of late is much declined in what he was,
And greatly altered in his disposition.
When he came first to lodge here in my house,
Ne'er trust me, if I were not proud of him:
Methought he bare himself in such a fashion,
So full of man, and sweetness in his carriage,
And (what was chief) it showed not borrowed in him,
But all he did, became him as his own,
And seemed as perfect, proper, and possessed
As breath, with life, or colour, with the blood.
But, now, his course is so irregular,
So loose, affected, and deprived of grace,
And he himself withal so far fallen off
From that first place, as scarce no note remains,
To tell men's judgements where he lately stood.
He's grown a stranger to all due respect,
Forgetful of his friends, and not content
To stale himself in all societies,
He makes my house here common as a mart,
A theatre, a public receptacle
For giddy humour, and diseased riot;
And here (as in a tavern, or a stews)
He and his wild associates spend their hours,
In repetition of lascivious jests,
Swear, leap, drink, dance, and revel night by night,
Control my servants: and indeed what not?
DOW. 'Sdeynes, I know not what I should say to him, i' the whole world! He values me at a cracked three-farthings, for aught I see: it will never out o' the flesh that's bred i' the bone! I have told him enough, one would think, if that would serve. But counsel to him is as good, as a shoulder of mutton to a sick horse. Well! He knows what to trust to, 'fore George. Let him spend, and spend, and domineer till his heart ache; an' he think to be relieved by me, when he is got into one o' your city pounds, the Counters, he has the wrong sow by the ear, i' faith: and claps his dish at the wrong man's door. I'll lay my hand o' my halfpenny, ere I part with't, to fetch him out, I'll assure him.
KIT. Nay, good brother, let it not trouble you thus.
DOW. 'Sdeath, he mads me, I could eat my very spur- leathers for anger! But why are you so tame? Why do you not speak to him, and tell him how he disquiets your house?
KIT.
Oh, there are divers reasons to dissuade, brother.
But would yourself vouchsafe to travail in it,
(Though but with plain and easy circumstance)
It would both come much better to his sense,
And savour less of stomach, or of passion.
You are his elder brother, and that title
Both gives and warrants you authority;
Which (by your presence seconded) must breed
A kind of duty in him, and regard:
Whereas if I should intimate the least,
It would but add contempt to his neglect,
Heap worse on ill, make up a pile of hatred
That, in the rearing, would come tottering down,
And in the ruin, bury all our love.
Nay, more than this, brother, if I should speak
He would be ready from his heat of humour,
And overflowing of the vapour in him,
To blow the ears of his familiars
With the false breath of telling what disgraces
And low disparagements I had put upon him.
Whilst they, sir, to relieve him, in the fable,
Make their loose comments upon every word,
Gesture, or look I use; mock me all over,
From my flat cap unto my shining shoes:
And out of their impetuous rioting fancies,
Beget some slander, that shall dwell with me.
And what would that be, think you? Marry, this.
They would give out, because my wife is fair,
Myself but lately married, and my sister
Here sojourning a virgin in my house,
That I were jealous! Nay, as sure as death,
That they would say. And how that I had quarrelled
My brother purposely, thereby to find
An apt pretext to banish them my house.
DOW.
Mass, perhaps so; they're like enough to do it.
KIT.
Brother, they would, believe it: so should I
(Like one of these penurious quack-salvers)
But set the bills up, to mine own disgrace,
And try experiments upon myself:
Lend scorn and envy, opportunity
To stab my reputation, and good name –
Scene 2
Enter Matthew, Bobadil
MAT. I will speak to him –
BOB. Speak to him? Away, by the foot of Pharaoh, you shall not, you shall not do him that grace. The time of day to you, gentleman o' the house. Is Master Wellbred stirring?
DOW. How then? What should he do?
BOB. Gentleman of the house, it is to you: is he within, sir?
KIT. He came not to his lodging tonight, sir, I assure you.
DOW. Why, do you hear? You.
BOB. The gentleman-citizen hath satisfied me, I'll talk to no scavenger.
Exit with Matthew
DOW. How, scavenger? Stay, sir, stay?
KIT. Nay, brother Downright.
DOW.
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