Beaumont and Fletcher's Works. Volume 9. Beaumont Francis
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Название: Beaumont and Fletcher's Works. Volume 9
Автор: Beaumont Francis
Издательство: Public Domain
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Witty. I will prove him in some of the rest.
Toi[s] miois fatherois iste Cock-scomboy?
Pris. Kay yonkeron nigitton oy fouleroi Asinisoy.
Witty. Cheateron ton biton?
Pris. Tous pollous strikerous, Angelo to peeso.
Witty. Certainly Sir, a very excellent Scholar in the Greek.
Old K. I do note a wondrous readiness in him.
Sir Greg. I do wonder how the Trojans could hold out ten years siege (as 'tis reported) against the Greeks, if Achilles spoke but this tongue? I do not think but he might have shaken down the Walls in a seven-night, and ne'er troubled the wooden horse.
Witty. I will try him so far as I can in the Syriack. Kircom bragmen, shag a dou ma dell mathou.
Pris. Hashagath rabgabosh shobos onoriadka.
Witty. Colpack Rubasca, gnawerthem shig shag.
[Pris.] Napshamothem Ribs[h]e bongomosh lashemech nagothi.
Witty. Gentlemen I have done, any man that can, go farther, I confess my self at a Nonplus.
Sir Greg. Faith not I, Sir, I was at my farthest in my natural language, I was never double-tongu'd, I thank my hard fortune.
Witty. Well Gentlemen, 'tis pity, (walk farther off a little my friends) I say, 'tis pity such fellows so endow'd, so qualified with the gifts of Nature and Arts, yet should have such a scarcity of fortune's benefits, we must blame our Ironhearted age for it.
Old K. 'Tis pity indeed, and our pity shall speak a little, for 'em; Come Sir, here's my groat.
Witty. A Groat Sir? oh fie, give nothing rather, 'twere better you rail'd on 'em for begging, and so quit your self, I am a poor Gentleman, that have but little but my wits to live on.
Old K. Troth and I love you the better, Sir.
Witty. Yet I'll begin a better example than so, here fellows, there's between you, take Purse and all, and I would it were here heavier for your sakes, there's a pair of Angels to guide you to your lodgings, a poor Gentleman's good Will.
Pris. Gratias, maximas gratias, benignissime Domine.
Old K. This is an ill example for us, Sir, I would this bountiful Gentleman had not come this way to day.
Sir Gr. Pox, we must not shame our selves now, Sir, I'll give as much as that Gentleman, though I never be Soldier or Scholar while I live; here friends, there's a piece, that if he were divided, would make a pair of Angels for me too, in the love I bear to the Sword and the Tongues.
Old K. My largess shall be equal too, and much good do you, this bounty is a little abatement of my wit, though I feel that.
Ruin. May soldiers ever defend such charities.
Pris. And Scholars pray for their increase.
Old K. Fare you well, Sir, these fellows may pray for you, you have made the Scholars Commons exceed to day, and a word with you, Sir, you said you liv'd by your wits, if you use this bounty, you'll begger your wits, believe it.
Witty. Oh Sir, I hope to encrease 'em by it, this seed never wants his harvest, fare you well, Sir.
Sir Gr. I think a man were as good meet with a reasonable Thief, as an unreasonable Begger sometimes, I could find in my heart to beg half mine back agen, can you change my piece my friends?
Pris. Tempora mutantur, & nos mutamur in illis.
Sir Gr. My Gold is turn'd into Latine.
Look you good fellows, here's one round
Shilling more that lay conceal'd.
Old K. Sir, away, we shall be drawn farther into damage else.
Sir Gr. A pox of the Fool, he live by his wits? if his wits leave him any money, but what he begs or steals very shortly, I'll be hang'd for him.
Ruin. This breakfast parcel was well fetcht off i'faith.
Witty. Tush, a by-blow for mirth, we must have better purchase, we want a fourth for another project that I have ripen'd.
Ruin. My wife she shares, and can deserve it.
Witty. She can change her shape, and be masculine.
Ruin. 'Tis one of the free'st conditions, she fears not the crack of a Pistol, she dares say Stand to a Grazier.
Pris. Probatum fuit, profecto Domine.
Witty. Good, then you Sir Bacchus, Apollo shall be dispatcht with her share, and some contents to meet us to morrow (at a certain place and time appointed) in the Masculine Gender, my Father has a Nephew, and I an own Cosin coming up from the University, whom he loves most indulgently, easie Master Credulous Oldcraft, (for you know what your meer Academique is) your Carrier never misses his hour, he must not be rob'd (because he has but little to lose) but he must joyn with us in a devise that I have, that shall rob my Father of a hundred pieces, and thank me to be rid on't, for there's the ambition of my wit, to live upon his profest wit, that has turn'd me out to live by my wits.
Pris. Cum hirundinis alis tibi regratulor.
Witty. A male habit, a bag of an hunder'd weight, though it be Counters (for my Alchimy shall turn 'em into Gold of my Fathers) the hour, the place, the action shall be at large set down, and Father, you shall know, that I put my portion to use, that you have given me to live by;
And to confirm your self in me renate,
I hope you'll find my wits legitimate.
Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima
Serv.
Nay Lady.
Lady. Put me not in mind on't, prethee,
You cannot do a greater wrong to Women,
For in our wants, 'tis the most chief affliction
To have that name remembred; 'tis a Title
That misery mocks us by, and the worlds malice,
Scorn and contempt has not wherewith to work
On humble Callings; they are safe, and lye
Level with pitty still, and pale distress
Is no great stranger to 'em; but when fortune
Looks with a stormy face on our conditions,
We find affliction work, and envy pastime,
And our worst enemy than that most abuses us,
Is that we are call'd by, Lady, Oh my spirit,
Will nothing make thee humble? I am well methinks,
And can live quiet with my fate sometimes,
Until I look into the world agen,
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