« PreviousContinue »
Spa. Pish, no matter for that ; dispatch, I entreat thee.
Nit. Have patience, man: 'tis for his credit to be neat.
Spa. What's that so cold at my throat, and scrubs so hard ?
Sec. A kind of steel instrument, y-cleped a razor; a sharp tool and a keen: it has a certain virtue of cutting a throat, if a man please to give his mind to't.-Hold up your muzzle, signor. When did you talk bawdily to my wife last ?
wife last? Tell me for your own good, signor, I advise you.
Spa. I talk bawdily to thy wife? Hang bawdry ! Good now, mind thy business, lest thy hand slip.
Nit. Give him kind words ; you were best, for a toy that I know.
Sec. Confess, or I shall mar your grace in whiffing tobacco, or squirting sweet wines down your gullet. You have been offering to play the gelding we told ye of, I suppose. Speak truth !Move the semicircle of your countenance to my left liand, file.-Out with the truth! Would you have had a leap ?
Nit. Spadone, thou art in a lamentable pickle. Have a good heart, and pray if thou canst : I pity thee.
Spa. I protest and vow, friend Secco, I know no leaps, I.
Sec. Lecherously goatish, and an eunuch? This cut, and then
Spa. Confound thee, thy leaps and thy cuts ! I am no eunuch, you finical ass; I am no eunuch ; but at all points as well provided as any he in Italy, and that thy wife could have told thee. This your conspiracy, to thrust my head into a brazen tub of kitchen-lee, hood-wink inine eyes in mud-soap, and then offer to cut my throat in the dark, like a coward! I may live to be revenged on both of ye.
Nit. O scurvy! thou art angry! Feel, man, whether thy weason' be not cracked first,
Sec. You must fiddle my brains into a jealousy, rub my temples with saffron, and burnish my forea head with the juice of yellows? Have I fitted you now, sir?
Enter Morosa. Spa. All's whole yet, I hope.
Mor. Yes, sirrah, all is whole yet : but if ever thou dost speak treason against my sweeting and me once more, thou'lt find a roguey bargain on't. Dear, this was handled like one of spirit and disa cretion. Nitido has paged it trimly too. No wording, but make ready and attend at court.
Sec. Now we know thou art a man, we forget what hath past, and are fellows and friends again.
Nit. Wipe your face clean, and take heed of a
Spa. The fear put me into a sweat; I cannot help it. I am glad I have my throat mine owns and must laugh for company, or be laughed at.
SCENE III. -A Hall in the same.
Enter Livio and TROYLO.
Liv. You find, sir, I have proved a ready servant, And brought th’ expected guests : amidst these
on feastings, These costly entertainments, you must pardon
Weason,] is e. Gullet. See above, p. 186. VOL. II.
My incivility that here sequesters
Not wrong'd me? Bless'd Heaven ! this is the bandy' of a patience Beyond all sufferance.
Troy. If your own acknowledgment
Liv. Fine whirls in tame imagination ! On, sir ;
welcome. A Flourish.-Enter OCTAVIO, Julio, FLAVIA,
ROMANELLO, CAMILLO, and VESPUCCI. Oct. I dare not study words, or hold a compli
ment For this particular, this special favour. 7
The bandy of a patience.] It has been before observed, that this is a technical term at tennis. It occurs as a substantive in a similar manner in Dekker's Satiromastrix, “ Come in, take this bandy with the racket of patience."
Jul. Your bounty and your love, my love, must
Oct. But for this grace, madam, I will lay open Before your judgments, which I know can rate
them, A cabinet of jewels, rich and lively, The world can show none goodlier ; those I prize Dear as my life.-Nephew. Troy.. Sir, I obey you.
[E.cit. Flav. Jewels, my lord ? Oct.
No stranger's eye e'er view'd them,
Rom. Not I, I do protest : I hope, sir,
'Tis a proper quality
Who? they? they know not
We are ignorant
gems which are not common.
But his lordship
passage of the time, till they are brought,
A novelty ; 'tis written from Bononie'.
He at last has
juries Thy former life expos’d thee too. Liv. [Aside.
Turn capuchin! He! whilst I stand a cypher, and fill up Only an useless sum to be laid out In an unthrifty lewdness, that must buy Both name and riot. Oh, my fickle destiny ! Roni. Sister, you cannot taste this course but
bravely, But thankfully,
Flav. He's now dead to the world, And lives to Heaven: a saint's reward reward
RIA, SILVIA, and MOROSA.
lence In such amazement?
Bononie.] The city of Bologna in Italy, from its Latin