Deli. No whither with him, dear wife; I go alone to a place, from whence I will return instantly.-Good Macilente, acquaint not her with it by any means, it may come so much the more accepted; frame some other answer. I'll come back immediately.

[Exit, Fal. Nay, an I be not worthy to know whither you go, stay till I take knowledge of your com ing back.

Maci. Hear you, mistress Deliro,

Fal. So, sir, and what say you?

Maci. Faith, lady, my intents will not deserve this slight respect, when you shall know them. Fal. Your intents! why, what may your intents be, for God's sake?

Maci. Troth, the time allows no circumstance, lady, therefore know this was but a device to remove your husband hence, and bestow him securely, whilst, with more conveniency, I might report to you a misfortune that hath happened to monsieur Brisk Nay, comfort, sweet lady. This night, being at supper, a sort of young gallants committed a riot, for the which he only is apprehended and carried to the Counter, where, if your husband, and other creditors, should but have knowledge of him, the poor gentleman were undone for ever.

Fal. Ah me! that he were.

Maci. Now, therefore, if you can think upon any present means for his delivery, do not fore

like a quick-set hedge. The several figures into which they pruned their beards, and this among the rest, are mentioned by Taylor, the water-poet, in his Whip of Pride:

"And some, to set their loves desire on edge,

“Are cut and prun'd, like to a quick-set hedge." WHAL. This seems to be the simplest of all the modes in vogue. Mrs. Quickly talks of a beard rounded like a glover's paring

slow it. A bribe to the officer that committed him, will do it.

Fal. O lord, sir! he shall not want for a bribe; pray you, will you commend me to him, and say I'll visit him presently.

Maci. No, lady, I shall do you better service, in protracting your husband's return, that you may go with more safety.

Fal. Good truth, so you may; farewell, good sir. [Exit Maci.]-Lord, how a woman may be mistaken in a man! I would have sworn upon all the Testaments in the world he had not loved master Brisk. Bring me my keys there, maid. Alas, good gentleman, if all I have in this earthly world will pleasure him, it shall be at his service. [Exit.

Mit. How Macilente sweats in this business, if you mark him!

Cor. Ay, you shall see the true picture of spight anon: here comes the pawn, and his redeemer.

knife;" and Taylor, in the poem just quoted by Whalley, mentions two others "with the hammer-cut, or the Roman T." This last, from its perfect absurdity, seems to have been in high request:

8

Spenser :

." he strokes his beard,

"Which now he puts i' th' posture of a T,
"The Roman T; your T beard is the fashion."

Queen of Corinth, A. IV. S. 1. do not foreslow it.] i. e. Slacken or delay it. Thus

"But by no means my way I would ferslow."

And Shakspeare:

"Forslow no longer, make we hence amain."

And almost every writer of the time; though Theobald pronounces the word to have been then obsolete.

SCENE IX.

A Room at the Mitre.

Enter DELIRO, FUNGOSO, and GEORGE.

Deli. Come, brother, be not discouraged for this, man; what!

Fung. No, truly, I am not discouraged; but I protest to you, brother, I have done imitating any more gallants either in purse or apparel, but as shall become a gentleman, for good carriage,

or so.

Deli. You say well. This is all in the bill here, is it not?

George. Ay, sir.

Deli. There's your money, tell it: and, brother, I am glad I met with so good occasion to shew my love to you.

Fung. I will study to deserve it in good truth, an I live.

Deli. What, is it right?

George. Ay, sir, and I thank you.

Fung. Let me have a capon's leg saved, now

the reckoning is paid.

George. You shall, sir.

Enter MACILENTE.

Maci. Where's signior Deliro?

Deli. Here, Macilente.

[Exit.

Maci. Hark you, sir, have you dispatch'd this same?

Deli. Ay, marry have I.

Maci. Well then, I can tell you news; Brisk is in the Counter.

Deli. In the Counter!

Maci. 'Tis true, sir, committed for the stir here to-night. Now would I have you send your brother home afore, with the report of this your kindness done him, to his sister, which will so pleasingly possess her, and out of his mouth too, that in the mean time you may clap your action on Brisk, and your wife, being in so happy a mood, cannot entertain it ill, by any means.

Deli. 'Tis very true, she cannot, indeed, I think. Maci. Think! why 'tis past thought; you shall never meet the like opportunity, I assure you. Deli. I will do it.-Brother, pray you go home afore, (this gentleman and I have some private business,) and tell my sweet wife I'll come presently.

Fung. I will, brother.

Maci. And, signior, acquaint your sister, how liberally, and out of his bounty, your brother has used you, (do you see?) made you a man of good reckoning; redeem'd that you never were possest of, credit; gave you as gentleman-like terms as might be; found no fault with your coming behind the fashion; nor nothing.

Fung. Nay, I am out of those humours now. Maci. Well, if you be out, keep your distance, and be not made a shot-clog" any more.-Come, signior, let's make haste. [Exeunt.

❞—a shot-clog.] i. e. An incumbrance on the reckoning, as Whalley observes. The agency of Macilente is employed with great art, in hastening the catastrophe, so long delayed. Jonson has every where distinguished, with matchless dexterity, the subtle and active malignity of this dangerous character, from the boisterous and sarcastic petulance of the mischievous Carlo,

SCENE X.

The Counter.

Enter FALLACE and FASTIDIOUS BRISK.

Fal. O, master Fastidious, what pity is it to see so sweet a man as you are, in so sour a place! [Kisses him.

Cor. As upon her lips, does she mean? Mit. O, this is to be imagined the Counter, belike.

Fast. Troth, fair lady, 'tis first the pleasure of the fates, and next of the constable, to have it so: but I am patient, and indeed comforted the more in your kind visit.

Fal. Nay, you shall be comforted in me more than this, if you please, sir. I sent you word by my brother, sir, that my husband laid to 'rest you this morning; I know not whether you received it or no.

Fast. No, believe it, sweet creature, your brother gave me no such intelligence.

Fal. O, the lord!

Fast. But has your husband any such purpose? Fal. O, sweet master Brisk, yes: and therefore be presently discharged, for if he come with his actions upon you, Lord deliver you! you are in for one half-a-score year; he kept a poor man in Ludgate once twelve year for sixteen shillings. Where's your keeper? for love's-sake call him, let him take a bribe, and dispatch you.