And use the same speed, as you love my safety. Wild-witted sister, I have prevented you: Enter JOICE. Nay, sister, you are at farthest. Joice. Let me go, you were best; for if you wrestle with me, I shall throw you.-Passion, come back, fool; lover, turn again, and kiss your belly full; for here she is will stand you, do your worst. Will you let me go? Gartred. Yes, if you'll stay. Joice. If I stir a foot, hang me; you shall cme together yourselves, and be naught: do what you will; for if e'er I trouble myself again, let me want help in such a case when I need. Gartred. Nay, but pr'ythee, sister, be not angry. Joice. I will be angry. Uds foot; I cannot endure such foolery, I! Two bashful fools that would couple together, and yet ha' not the faces. Gartred. Nay, pr'ythee, sweet sister. Birds, that want the use of reason and speech, can couple together in one day; and yet you that have both, cannot conclude in twenty. Gartred. Why, what good would it do you to tell hm? Joice. Do not talk to me, for I am deaf to any thing you say: go weep and cry. Gartred. Nay, but sister. [Exeunt, Enter STAINES and DRAWER with wine. Staines. Drawer, bid them make haste at home. Tell them they are coming from church. Drawer. I will, sir. [Exit Drawer. Staines. That I should live to be a serving-man! a fellow which scalds his mouth with another man's porridge; brings up meat for other men's bellies, and carres away the bones for his own; changes his clean trencher for a foul one, and is glad of it. And yet did I never live so merry a life, when I was my master's master, as now I do, being man to my man: and I will stand to't, for all my former speeches, a serving-man lives a better life than his master; and thus I prove it: The saying is, the nearer the bone the sweeter the flesh; then must the serving-man needs eat the sweeter flesh, for he always picks the bones. And, again, the proverb says, the deeper, the sweeter: there has the serving-man the advantage again, for he drinks still in the bottom of the pot: he fills his belly, and never asks what's to pay; wears broad-cloth, and yet dares walk Watling-street, without any fear of his draper. And for his colours, they are according to the season; in the summer, he is apparelled (for the most part) like the heavens, in blue; in winter, like the earth, in frize. 14 Enter BUBBLE, Sir LIONEL, LONGFIELD, and SPRINKLE. But see, I am prevented in my encomium: I could have maintain'd this theme these two hours. Sir Lionel. Well, God rest his soul, he is gone, and we must all follow him. Bubble. Aye, aye, he's gone, sir Lionel, he's gone. Sir Lionel. Why, tho' he be gone, what then? 'tis not you that can fetch him back again, with all your cunning. It must be your comfort, that he died well. Bubble. Truly, and so it is; I would to God I had e'en another uncle that would die no worse: surely I shall weep again, if I should find my handkerchief. Longfield. How now! what are these, onions? Bubble. Aye, aye, sir Lionel, they are my onions; I thought to have had them roasted this morning for my 14 Watling-street,] This street, Stow observes, in his time, was inhabited by wealthy drapers, retailers of woollen-cloths, both broad and narrow, of all sorts, more than any one of the city. cold: Gervase, you have not wept to-day, pray take your onions. Gentlemen, the remembrance of death is sharp, therefore there is a banquet within to sweeten your conceits: I pray walk in, gentlemen, walk you in; you know I must needs be melancholy, and keep my chamber. Gervase, usher them to the banquet. Staines. I shall, sir-Please you, Sir Lionel. Sir Lionel. Well, Master Bubble, we'll go in and taste of your bounty. In the mean time, you must be of good cheer. [Gentlemen and Gervase go out. Bubble. Had the women puddings to their dole 1? Bubble. And how did they take 'em? Sprinkle. Why, with their hands: how should they take 'em? Bubble. O thou Hercules of ignorance! I mean, how were they satisfied? Sprinkle. By my troth, sir, but so so; and yet some of them had two. Bubble. O insatiable women! whom two puddings 15 dole.] "Dole was the term for the allowance of provision given to the poor in great families." Mr. Steevens's note to The Winter's Tale, A. 1. S. 1. See also the notes of Sir John Hawkins and Mr. Steevens to The First Part of King Henry IV. A. 2. S. 2. Of this kind of charity we have yet some remains, particularly, as Dr. Ducarel observes, "at Lambeth palace, where thirty poor persons are relieved by an alms called the DOLE, which is given "three times a week to ten persons at a time, alternately; each person then receiving upwards of two pounds weight of beef, a pitcher of broth, a half quartern loaf, and two pence in money. "Besides this dole, there are always, on the days it is given, at "least thirty other pitchers, called by-pitchers, brought by other "neighbouring poor, who partake of the remaining broth, and the "broken victuals that is at that time distributed. Likewise at "Queen's College in Oxford, provisions are to this day frequently "distributed to the poor, at the door of their hall under the deno"mination of a DOLE." Anglo-Norman Antiquities considered in a Tour through part of Normandy, fol. p. 81. would not satisfy! But vanish, Sprinkle; bid your And, when I go by water, scorn a sculler. In black carnation velvet I will cloak me, And when men bid God save me, cry, Tu quoque. It is needful a gentleman should speak Latin sometimes, is it not, Gervase? Staines. O, very graceful, sir; your most accomplish'd gentlemen are known by it. Bubble. Why then will I make use of that little I have, upon times and occasions. Here, Gervase, take this bag, and run presently to the mercer's; buy me seven ells of horse-flesh-colour'd taffata, nine yards of yellow sattin, and eight yards of orange tawney velvet. Then run to the taylor's, the haberdasher's, the sempster's, the cutler's, the perfumer's, and to all trades whatsoever, that belong to the making-up of a gentleman; and, amongst the rest, let not the barber be forgotten and look that he be an excellent fellow, and one that can snap his fingers with dexterity "7. Staines. I shall fit you, sir. Bubble. Do so, good Gervase: it is time my beard were corrected, for it is grown so saucy, as it begins to play with my nose. Staines. Your nose, sir, must endure it; for it is in part the fashion. Bubble. Is it in fashion? why then my nose shall endure it, let it tickle his worst. 16 brave.] fine. See note 27 to The Second Part of the Honest Whore, vol. III. 17 one that can snap his fingers with dexterity.] So in Ben Jonson's Epicane, A. 1. S. 2. one of the negative qualities which Morose approved in Cutbeard, was, that he had not the knack with his sheers, or his fingers, which, says Clerimont, "in a barber, he (Morose) "thinks so eminent a virtue, as it has made him chief of his counsel." Staines. Why, now y' are i' the right, sir; if you will be a true gallant, you must bear things resolute. As thus, sir; if you be at an ordinary, and chance to lose your money at play, you must not fret and fume, tear cards, and fling away dice, as your ignorant gamester, or country-gentleman does; but you must put on a calm, temperate action, with a kind of careless smile, in contempt of fortune, as not being able, with all her engines, to batter down one piece of your estate, that your means may be thought invincible. Never tell your money, nor what you have won, nor what you have lost. If a question be made, your answer must be, What I have lost, I have lost; what I have won, have won. A close heart and free hand, make a man admired a testern or a shilling to a servant that brings you a glass of beer, binds his hands to his lips: you shall have more service of him, than his master; he will be more humble to you, than a cheater before a magistrate. I Bubble. Gervase, give me thy hand: I think thou hast more wit than I, that am thy master; and, for this speech only, I do here create thee my steward. 1 do long, methinks, to be at an ordinary; to smile at fortune, and to be bountiful. Gervase, about your business, gooi Gervase, whilst I go and meditate upon a gentleman-like behaviour. I have an excellent gait already, Gervase, have I not? Staines. Hercules himself, sir, had never a better gait. Bubble. But dispatch, Gervase: the sattin and the velvet must be thought upon, and the Ta Quoque must not be forgotten; for whensoever I give arms, that shall be my motto. [Exit Bubble. Staines. What a fortune had I thrown upon me, when I preferred myself into this fellow's service! Indeed I serve myself, and not him; for this gold here is my own, truly purchased: he has credit, and shall run i' th' books for't. I'll carry things so cunningly, that he shall not be able to look into my actions. My mortgage I have already got into my hands: the rent |