PROL. You could not have studied to have done me a greater benefit at the instant; for I protest to you, I am unperfect, and, had I spoke it, I must of necessity have been out.

COR. Why, but do you speak this seriously?

PROL. Seriously! ay, wit's my help, do I; and esteem myself indebted to your kindness for it.

COR. For what?

PROL. Why, for undertaking the prologue for me.

COR. How! did I undertake it for you?

PROL. Did you! I appeal to all these gentlemen, whether you did or no.

Come, come, it pleases you to cast a strange look on't now; but 'twill not serve.

COR. 'Fore me, but it must serve; and therefore speak your prologue.

PROL. An I do, let me die poisoned with some venomous hiss, and never live to look as high as the two-penny room again.

[EXIT.

MIT. He has put you to it, sir.

COR. 'Sdeath, what a humorous fellow is this! Gentlemen, good faith I can speak no prologue, howsoever his weak wit has had the fortune to make this strong use of me here before you: but I protest --

[ENTER CARLO BUFFONE, FOLLOWED BY A BOY WITH WINE.

CAR. Come, come, leave these fustian protestations; away, come, I cannot abide these grey-headed ceremonies. Boy, fetch me a gla.s.s quickly, I may bid these gentlemen welcome; give them a health here. [EXIT BOY.] I mar'le whose wit it was to put a prologue in yond' sackbut's mouth; they might well think he'd be out of tune, and yet you'd play upon him too.

COR. Hang him, dull block!

CAR. O, good words, good words; a well-timber'd fellow, he would have made a good column, an he had been thought on, when the house was a building -- [RE-ENTER BOY WITH GLa.s.sES..

O, art thou come? Well said; give me, boy; fill so! Here's a cup of wine sparkles like a diamond. Gentlewomen (I am sworn to put them in first) and gentlemen, around, in place of a bad prologue, I drink this good draught to your health here, Canary, the very elixir and spirit of wine. [DRINKS.]

This is that our poet calls Castalian liquor, when he comes abroad now and then, once in a fortnight, and makes a good meal among players, where he has 'caninum appet.i.tum'; marry, at home he keeps a good philosophical diet, beans and b.u.t.ter-milk; an honest pure rogue, he will take you off three, four, five of these, one after another, and look villainously when he has done, like a one-headed Cerberus. -- He does not hear me, I hope. -- And then, when his belly is well ballaced, and his brain rigged a little, he snails away withal, as though he would work wonders when he comes home. He has made a play here, and he calls it, 'Every Man out of his Humour': but an he get me out of the humour he has put me in, I'll trust none of his tribe again while I live. Gentles, all I can say for him is, you are welcome. I could wish my bottle here amongst you; but there's an old rule, No pledging your own health. Marry, if any here be thirsty for it, their best way (that I know) is, sit still, seal up their lips, and drink so much of the play in at their ears.

[EXIT.

MIT. What may this fellow be, Cordatus?

COR. Faith, if the time will suffer his description, I'll give it you. He is one, the author calls him Carlo Buffone, an impudent common jester, a violent railer, and an incomprehensible epicure; one whose company is desired of all men, but beloved of none; he will sooner lose his soul than a jest, and profane even the most holy things, to excite laughter: no honourable or reverend personage whatsoever can come within the reach of his eye, but is turned into all manner of variety, by his adulterate similes.

MIT. You paint forth a monster.

COR. He will prefer all countries before his native, and thinks he can never sufficiently, or with admiration enough, deliver his affectionate conceit of foreign atheistical policies. But stay -- [ENTER MACILENTE.

Observe these: he'll appear himself anon.

MIT. O, this is your envious man, Macilente, I think.

COR. The same, sir.

ACT I

SCENE I. -- The Country.

ENTER MACILENTE, WITH A BOOK.

MACI. "Viri est, fortunae caecitatem facile ferre."

'Tis true; but, Stoic, where, in the vast world, Doth that man breathe, that can so much command His blood and his affection? Well, I see I strive in vain to cure my wounded soul; For every cordial that my thoughts apply Turns to a corsive and doth eat it farther.

There is no taste in this philosophy; 'Tis like a potion that a man should drink, But turns his stomach with the sight of it.

I am no such pill'd Cynick to believe, That beggary is the only happiness; Or with a number of these patient fools, To sing: "My mind to me a kingdom is,"

When the lank hungry belly barks for food, I look into the world, and there I meet With objects, that do strike my blood-shot eyes Into my brain: where, when I view myself, Having before observ'd this man is great, Mighty and fear'd; that lov'd and highly favour'd: A third thought wise and learn'd; a fourth rich, And therefore honour'd; a fifth rarely featur'd; A sixth admired for his nuptial fortunes: When I see these, I say, and view myself, I wish the organs of my sight were crack'd; And that the engine of my grief could cast Mine eyeb.a.l.l.s, like two globes of wildfire, forth, To melt this unproportion'd frame of nature.

Oh, they are thoughts that have transfix'd my heart, And often, in the strength of apprehension, Made my cold pa.s.sion stand upon my face, Like drops of dew on a stiff cake of ice.

COR. This alludes well to that of the poet, "Invidus suspirat, gemit, incut.i.tque dentes, Sudat frigidus, intuens quod odit."

MIT. O, peace, you break the scene.

[ENTER SOGLIARDO AND CARLO BUFFONE.

MACI. Soft, who be these?

I'll lay me down awhile till they be past.

[LIES DOWN.

CAR. Signior, note this gallant, I pray you.

MIT. What is he?

CAR. A tame rook, you'll take him presently; list.

SOG. Nay, look you, Carlo; this is my humour now! I have land and money, my friends left me well, and I will be a gentleman whatsoever it cost me.

CAR. A most gentlemanlike resolution.

SOG. Tut! an I take an humour of a thing once, I am like your tailor's needle, I go through: but, for my name, signior, how think you? will it not serve for a gentleman's name, when the signior is put to it, ha?

CAR. Let me hear; how is it?

SOG. Signior Insulso Sogliardo: methinks it sounds well.

CAR. O excellent! tut! an all fitted to your name, you might very well stand for a gentleman: I know many Sogliardos gentlemen.

SOG. Why, and for my wealth I might be a justice of peace.

CAR. Ay, and a constable for your wit.

SOG. All this is my lordship you see here, and those farms you came by.

CAR. Good steps to gentility too, marry: but, Sogliardo, if you affect to be a gentleman indeed, you must observe all the rare qualities, humours, and compliments of a gentleman.