your safety, shall watch you, he is provided for | For, I must tell you both, while that is fed, the purpose. Look to your charge, sir. Step. And what shall I do? Clem. O! I had lost a sheep an he had not bleated: why, sir, you shall give master Downright his cloak; and I will entreat him to take it. A trencher and a napkin you shall have in the buttery, and keep Cob and his wife company here; whom I will intreat first to be reconciled; and you to endeavor with your wit to keep them so. Step. I'll do my best. Cob. Why, now I see thou art honest, Tib, I receive thee as my dear and mortal wife again. Tib. And I you, as my loving and obedient husband. Clem. Good compliment! It will be their bridal night too. They are married anew. Come, I conjure the rest to put off all discontent. You, master Downright, your anger; you, master Knowell, your cares; master Kitely and his wife, their jealousy. Horns in the mind are worse than on the head. Kit. Sir, thus they go from me; kiss me, sweetheart. See what a drove of horns fly in the air, Clem. 'Tis well, 'tis well! This night we'll dedicate to friendship, love, and laughter. Master bridegroom, take your bride and lead; every one a fellow. Here is my mistress, Brainworm! to whom all my addresses of courtship shall have their reference: whose adventures this day, when our grandchildren shall hear to be made a fable, I doubt not but it shall find both spectators and applause. EVERY MAN OUT OF HIS HUMOR. TO THE NOBLEST NURSERIES OF HUMANITY AND LIBERTY IN THE KINGDOM, THE INNS OF COURT. I UNDERSTAND you, Gentlemen, not your houses: and a worthy succession of you, to all time, as being born the udges of these studies. When I wrote this poem, I had friendship with divers in your societies; who, as they were cat names in learning, so they were no less examples of living. Of them, and then, that I say no more, it was not despised. Now that the printer, by a doubled charge, thinks it worthy a longer life than commonly the air of such things doth promise, I am careful to put it a servant to their pleasures, who are the inheritors of the first favor born it. Yet, I command it lie not in the way of your more noble and useful studies to the public: for so I shall suffer for it. But when the gown and cap is off, and the lord of liberty reigns, then, to take it in your hands, perhaps may make some bencher, tincted with humanity, read and not repent him. By your true honorer, BEN JONSON. ASPER, He is of an ingenious and free spirit, eager and t constant in reproof, without fear controlling the world's abuses. One whom no servile hope of gain, or frosty apprehension of danger, can make to be a parasite, either to time, place, or opinion. MACILENTE, A man well parted, a sufficient scholar, and travelled; who, wanting that place in the world's account which he thinks his merit capable of, falls into such an envious apoplexy, with which his judgment is so dazzled and distasted, that he grows violently impatient of any opposite happiness in another. PUNTARVOLO, A vain-glorious knight, over-englishing his travels, and wholly consecrated to singularity; the very Jacob's staff of compliment; a sir that hath lived to see the revolution of time in most of his apparel. Of presence good enough, but so palpably affected to his own praise, that for want of flatterers he commends himself, to the floutage of his own family. He deals upon returns, and strange performances, resolving, in despite of public derision, to stick to his own particular fashion, phrase, and gesture. CARLO BUFFONE, A public, scurrilous, and profane jester, that more swift than Circe, with absurd similes, will transform any person into deformity. A good feast-hound or banquet-beagle, that will scent you out a supper some three miles off, and swear to his patrons, damn him! he came in oars, when he was but wafted over in a sculler. A slave that hath an extraordinary gift in pleasing his palate, and will swill up more sack at a sitting than would make all the guard a posset. His religion is railing, and his discourse ribaldry. They stand highest in his respect, whom he studies most to reproach. FASTIDIOUS BRISK, A neat, spruce, affecting courtier, one that wears clothes well, and in fashion; practiseth by his glass how to salute; speaks good remnants, notwithstanding the base viol and tobacco; swears tersely, and with variety; cares not what lady's favor he belies, or great man's familiarity: a good property to perfume the boot of a coach. He will borrow another man's horse to praise, and backs him as his own. Or, for a need, on foot can post himself into credit with his merchant, only with the gingle of his spur, and the jerk of his wand. DELIRO, A good doting citizen, who, it is thought, might be of the common council for his wealth; a fellow sincerely besotted on his own wife, and so wrapt with a conceit of her perfections, that he simply holds himself unworthy of her. And, in that hood-wink'd humor, lives more like a suitor than a husband; standing in as true dread of her displeasure, as when he first made love to her. He doth sacrifice two-pence in juniper to her every morning before she rises, and wakes her with villanousout-of-tune music, which she out of her contempt (though not out of her judgment) is sure to dislike. FALLACE, Deliro's wife, and idol; a proud mincing peat, and as perverse as he is officious. She dotes as perfectly upon the courtier, as her husband doth on her, and only wants the face to be dishonest. SAVIOLINA, A court lady, whose weightiest praise is a light wit, admired by herself, and one more, her servant Brisk. SORDIDO, A wretched hob-nailed chuff, whose recreation is reading of almanacks; and felicity, foul weather. One that never pray'd but for a lean dearth, and ever wept in a fat harvest. FUNGOSO, The son of Sordido, and a student; one that has revelled in his time, and follows the fashion afar off, like a spy. He makes it the whole bent of his endeavors to wring sufficient means from his wretched father, to put him in the courtiers' cut; at which he earnestly aims, but so unluckily, that he still lights short a suit. SOGLIARDO, An essential clown, brother to Sordido, yet so enamoured of the name of a gentleman, that he will have it, though he buys it. He comes up every term to learn to take tobacco, and see new motions. He is in his kingdom when he can get himself into company where he may be well laughed at. SHIFT, A thread-bare shark; one that never was a soldier, yet lives upon lendings. His profession is skeldring and odling, his bank Paul's, and his warehouse Picthatch. Takes up single testons upon oaths, till doomsday. Falls under executions of three shillings, and enters into fivegroat bonds. He waylays the reports of services, and cons them without book, damning himself he came new from them, when all the while he was taking the diet in the bawdy-house, or lay pawned in his chamber for rent and victuals. He is of that admirable and happy memory, that he will salute one for an old acquaintance that he never saw in his life before. He usurps upon cheats, quarrels, and robberies, which he never did, only to ge: him a name. His chief exercises are, taking the whiff, squiring a cockatrice, and making privy searches for inparters. CLOVE and ORANGE, An inseparable case of coxcombs city born; the Gemini, or twins of foppery; that like a pair of wooden foils, are fit for nothing but to be practised upon. Being well flattered they'll lend money, and re peut when they have done. Their glory is to invite players, and make suppers. And in company of better rany, to avoid the suspect of insufficiency, will inforce their ig- | r.orance most desperately, to set upon the understanding of any thing. Orange is the most humorous of the two, (whose small portion of juice being squeezed out,) Clove serves to stick him with commendations. CORDATUS, The author's friend; a man inly acquainted with the scope and drift of his plot; of a discreet and un derstanding judgment; and has the place of a moderator MITIS, Is a person of no action, and therefore we have re son to afford him no character. After the second sounding. Enter CORDATUS, ASPER, and MITIS. Cor. Nay, my dear Asper. Mit. Stay your mind. Asp. Away! Who is so patient of this impious world, THE STAGE. That he can check his spirit, or reign his tongue! Black, ravenous ruin, with her sail-stretch'd wings, Cor. Be not too bold. Asp. You trouble me — and with a whip of steel, That drunken custom would not shame to laugh, Cut shorter than their eye-brows! when the conscience Mit. Gentle Asper, Contain your spirits in more stricter bounds, And be not thus transported with the violon e Of your strong thoughts. Cor. Unless your breath had power To melt the world, and mould it new again, It is in vain to spend it in these moods. Answer your hopes, unto their largest strain Or servilely to fawn on your applause, And I will give you music worth your ears. As Vulcan, or the founder of Cripplegate. misuses The termi Mit. In faith this humor will come ill to some, You will be thought to be too peremptory. [Mitis Asp. This humor? good! and why this humor, Nay, do not turn, but answer. Mit. Answer, what? Asp. I will not stir your patience, pardon me, It cannot but arrive most acceptable, Is rack'd and tortur'd. Mit. Ay, I pray you proceed. Asp. Ha, what? what is't? Cor. For the abuse of humor. Asp. O, I crave pardon, I had lost my thoughts. And in itself holds these two properties, A kind of dew; and hence we do conclude, As when some one peculiar quality Asp. [turning to the stage.] I not observed this In their confluctions, all to run one way, thronged round till now! Gracious and kind spectators, you are welcome; Apollo and the Muses feast your eyes This may be truly said to be a humor. ៗ Comic humour." On his French garters, should affect a humor! Cor. He speaks pure truth; now if an idiot Asp. Well, I will scourge those apes, Mit. Asper, (I urge it as your friend,) take heed, You might as well have told me, yond' is heaven, --- "Seems bridge beit types A fellow, that has neither art nor brain, The good aspect of those that shall sit near him, Asp. Peace, Mitis, I do know your thought; You will not hear of virtue. Come, you are fond. That happy judgments, and composed spirits, Cor. Nay, but good, pardon us; We must not bear this peremptory sail, But use our best endeavors how to please. [thoughts, Good men, and virtuous spirits, that loath their vices, And I will mix with you in industry Will cherish my free labors, love my lines, Make my brain fruitful, to bring forth more objects, First he should shame to act 'em: my strict hand Cor. Why, this is right furor poeticus! Will yet conceive the best, or entertain This supposition, that a madman speaks. To please: but whom? attentive auditors, Asp. What, are you ready there? Mitis, sit down, Flow with distilled laughter: if we fail, And my Cordatus. Sound ho! and begin. I leave you two, as censors, to sit here: We must impute it to this only chance, [Exit. Cor. How do you like his spirit, Mitis? Cor. Why, do you suspect his merit? Mit. No; but I fear this will procure him much envy. Cor. O, that sets the stronger seal on his desert. if he had no enemies, I should esteem his fortunes most wretched at this instant. Mit. You have seen his play, Cordatus: pray you, how is it? Cor. Faith, sir, I must refrain to judge; only this I can say of it, 'tis strange, and of a particular kind by itself, somewhat like Vetus Comoedia; a work that hath bounteously pleased me; how it will answer the general expectation, I know not. Mit. Does he observe all the laws of comedy in it? Mit. Why, the equal division of it into acts and scenes, according to the Terentian manner; his true number of actors; the furnishing of the scene with Grex or Chorus, and that the whole argument fall within compass of a day's business. Cor. O no, these are too nice observations. Mit. They are such as must be received, by your favor, or it cannot be authentic. Cor. Troth, I can discern no such necessity. to cast a strange look on't now; but 'twill no serve. Cor. 'Fore me, but it must serve; and therefore speak your prologue. Prol. And I do, let me die poisoned with some venomous hiss, and never live to look as high as the [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 pro test Enter CARLO BUFFONE, followed by a Boy with wine. Cor. No, I assure you, signior. If those laws you speak of had been delivered us ab initio, and in their present virtue and perfection, there had been some reason of obeying their powers; but 'tis extant, that that which we call Comoedia, was at first noth-two-penny room again. ing but a simple and continued song, sung by one only person, till Susario invented a second; after him, Epicharmus a third; Phormus and Chionides devised to have four actors, with a prologue and horus; to which Cratinus, long after, added a fifth and sixth: Eupolis, more; Aristophanes, more than hey; every man in the dignity of his spirit and judgment supplied something. And, though that in him this kind of poem appeared absolute, and fully perfected, yet how is the face of it changed since, in Menander, Philemon, Cecilius, Plautus, and the rest! who have utterly excluded the chorus, altered the property of the persons, their names, and natures, and augmented it with all liberty, according to the elegancy and disposition of those times wherein they wrote. I see not then, but we should enjoy the same license, or free power to illustrate and heighten our invention, as they did; and not be tied to those strict and regular forms which the niceness Vof a few, who are nothing but form, would thrust Cor. Marry, Insula Fortunata, sir. Mit. O, the Fortunate Island: mass, he has Mit. He cannot lightly alter the scene, without crossing the seas. or. He needs no, having a whole island to run through, I think. Mit. No! how comes then, that in some one play we see so many seas, countries, and kingdoms, passed over with such admirable dexterity? Cor. O, that but shews how well the authors can travel in their vocation, and outrun the apprehension of their auditory. But, leaving this, I would they would begin once: this protraction is able to sour the best settled patience in the theatre. [The third sounding Mit. They have answered your wish, sir; they sound. Cor. O, here comes the Prologue. Enter PROLOGUE. Now, sir, if you had staid a little longer, I meant to have spoke your prologue for you, faith. Prol. Marry, with all my heart, sir, you shall do it yet, and I thank you. [Going. Cor. Nay, nay, stay, stay; hear you? Cor. Why, but do you speak this seriously? Prol. Why, for undertaking the prologue for me. Car. Come, come, leave these fustian protestations; away, come, I cannot abide these grey-headed cercmonies. Boy, fetch me a glass 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'c fellow, he would have made a good column, an h had been thought on, when the house was a building Re-enter Boy with glasses. so! O, art thou come? Well said; give me, boy; fill, |