Hear. Sir, let me tell you, this is not the least
Of things wherein your wisdom shows itself,
In that you've plac'd your son in this good sort.
Cre. Nay, nay, let me alone to give him breeding:
I did not hold the university
Fit for the training up of such a spirit.
Slicer. The university! 'T had been the only way
T' have took him off his courage and his mettle:
He had return'd, as slaves do from the galleys:
A naked shorn thing, with a thin-dock'd top,
Learnedly cut into a logic mode.
Hear. A private oath given him at first entrance,
Had sworn him pilgrim unto conventicles;
Engag'd him to the hate of all, but what
Pleaseth the stubborn, froward elect.
Slicer. But we,
Following another model, do allow
Freedom and courage, cherish and maintain
High noble thoughts——
Hear. Set nature free, and are
Chemists of manners——
Slicer. Do instruct of states——
Hear. And wars. There's one, look on him——
Slicer. Do but view
That searching head——
Hear. The very soul of battle:
True steel.
Slicer. H' hath been an agent some few years
(A score or so) for princes, and as yet
Doth not write forty.
Hear. I confess I can
Discover th' entrails of a state perhaps.
Lay open a kingdom's paunches, show the bowels
And inwards of a signiory or two;
But for your deeds of valour, there is one,
Although I speak it to his face, that can
Write a geography by his own conquests:
H' hath fought o'er Strabo,[126] Ptolemy,[127] and Stafford;[128]
Travell'd as far in arms as Lithgow[129] naked;
Borne weapons whither Coriat[130] durst not
Carry a shirt or shoes. Jack Mandevile[131]
Ne'er sail'd so far as he hath steer'd by land,
Using his colours both for mast and sail.
Cre. I'd thought h' had been lieutenant.
Hear. That's all one.
Slicer. I've worn some leather out abroad, let out
A heathen soul or two, fed this good sword
With, the black blood of pagan Christians,
Converted a few infidels with it;
But let that pass. That man of peace there hath
Been trusted with kings' breasts—
Hear. His name is heard
Like thunder, and that mere word Slicer hath
Sufficed unto victory.
Slicer. He's close,
Reserv'd, lock'd up. The secrets of the King
Of Tartary, of China, and some other
Counsels of moment, have been so long kept
In's body without vent, that every morning,
Before he covers them with some warm thing
Or other, you may smell 'em very strongly;
Distinguish each of them by several scents—
Hear. A grove of pikes are rushes to him: hail
More frights you than a shower of bullets him—
Slicer. The Dutch come up like broken beer;[132] the Irish
Savour of usquebaugh; the Spanish they
Smell like unto perfume at first, but then
After a while end in a fatal steam—
Hear. One drum's his table, the other is his music:
His sword's his knife; his colours are his napkins;
Carves nourishing horse, as he is us'd to do
The hostile paynim,[133] or we venison; eats
Gunpowder with his meat instead of pepper,
Then drinks o'er all his bandoleers, and fights—
Slicer. Secrets are rank'd and order'd in his belly,
Just like tobacco-leaves laid in a sweat.
Here lies a row of Indian secrets, then
Something of's own on them; on that, another
Of China counsels, cover'd with a lid
Of Newfoundland discoveries: next, a bed
Of Russia policies; on them, a lay
Of Prester-Johnian whispers—
Hear. Slights a tempest;
Counts lightning but a giving fire, and thunder
The loud report when heaven hath discharg'd.
H' hath with his breath[134] suppli'd a breach:
When he's once fix'd, no engine can remove him.
Slicer. 'Twould be a policy worth hatching to
Have him dissected, if 'twere not too cruel.
All states would lie as open as his bowels:
Turkey in's bloody liver; Italy
Be found in's reins; Spain busy in his stomach;
Venice would float in's bladder; Holland sail
Up and down all his veins; Bavaria lie
Close in some little gut, and ragioni
Di Stato[135] generally reek in all.
Cre. I see my son's too happy: he is born
To be some man of action; some engine
For th' overthrow of kingdoms.
Hear. Troth, he may
Divert the torrent of the Turkish rule
Into some other track: dam up the stream
Of that vast headlong monarchy, if that
He want not means to compass his intents.
Cre. The Turkish monarchy's a thing too big
For him to manage: he may make perhaps
The governor of some new little island,
And there plant faith and zeal; but for the present,
M' ambition's only to contrive a match
Between Sir Thomas Bitefig's only daughter
And (if I may so call him now) my son:
'Twill raise his fortunes somewhat.
Slicer. We have got
One that will do more good with's tongue that way
Than that uxorious show'r that came from heaven:
But you must oil it first.
Cre. I understand you:
Grease him i' th' fist, you mean? There's just ten pieces;
'Tis but an earnest: if he bring 't about,
I'll make those ten a hundred.
Hear. Think it done.
Hear. Our life, methinks, is but the same with others:
To cosen and be cosen'd makes the age.
The prey and feeder are that civil thing
That sager heads call body politic.
Here is the only difference: others cheat
By statute, but we do't upon no grounds.
The fraud's the same in both; there only wants
Allowance to our way. The commonwealth
Hath not declar'd herself as yet for us;
Wherefore our policy must be our charter.
Mean. Well-manag'd knav'ry is but one degree
Below plain honesty.
Slicer. Give me villany,
That's circumspect and well-advis'd, that doth
Colour at least for goodness. If the cloak
And mantle were pull'd off from things, 'twould be
As hard to meet an honest action as
A liberal alderman or a court-nun.
Hear. Knowing, then, how we must direct our steps,
Let us chalk out our paths: you, Shape, know yours.
Shape. Where'er I light on fortune, my commission
Will hold to take her up: I'll ease my silken
Friends of that idle luggage we call money.
Hear. For my good toothless countess, let us try
To win that old eremite thing that, like
An image in a German clock,[136] doth move,
Not walk—I mean, that rotten antiquary.
Mean. He'll surely love her, 'cause she looks like some
Old ruin'd piece, that was five ages backward.
Hear. To the great vestry-wit, the livery-brain,
My common-council pate, that doth determine
A city-business with his gloves on's head,
We must apply good hope of wealth and means.
Slicer. That griping knight Sir Thomas must be call'd
With the same lure: he knows t' a crumb how much
Loss is in twenty dozen of bread, between
That which is broke by th' hand and that is cut.
Which way best keep his candles, bran or straw:
What tallow's lost in putting of 'em out
By spittle, what by foot, what by the puff,
What by the holding downwards, and what by
The extinguisher; which wick will longest be
In lighting, which spend fastest. He must hear
Nothing but moieties, and lives, and farms,
Copies, and tenures; he is deaf to th' rest.
Mean. I'll speak the language of the wealthy to him;
My mouth shall swill with bags, revenues, fees,
Estates, reversions, incomes, and assurance[s].
He's in the gin already; for his daughter,
She'll be an easy purchase.[137]
Hear. I do hope
We shall grow famous; have all sorts repair
As duly to us, as the barren wives
Of aged citizens do to St Antholin's.
Come, let us take our quarters; we may come
To be some great officers in time,
And with a reverend magisterial frown
Pass sentence on those faults that are our own. [Exeunt omnes.
Have. 'Tis destin'd; I'll be valiant: I am sure
I shall be beaten with more credit then
Than now I do escape. Lieutenant, has't
Bethought thyself as yet? Has't any way
To make my sword fetch blood?
Slicer. You never yet
Did kill your man, then?
Have. No.
Hear. Nor get your wench
With child, I warrant?
Have. O sir!
Slicer. You're not quite
Free of the gentry, till y' have marr'd one man
And made another. When one fury hath
Cried quit with t'other, and your lust repair'd
What anger hath destroy'd, the title's yours;
Till then you do but stand for't.
Have. Pox! who'd be
That vile, scorn'd name, that stuffs all court-gate bills?
Lieutenant, thou may'st teach me valour yet.
Slicer. Teach thee! I will inspire thee; man, I'll make
Thy name become a terror; and to say
That Have-at-all is coming shall make room,
As when the bears are in procession.
Hark hither, Frank—[They consult.
Hear. That's good, but—
Slicer. How think'st now?
Hear. Nay, he will pay you large—ly. [Aloud.
Have. Pay, what else?
Hear. Make him believe the citizen's his guest;
The citizen, that he is his.
Slicer. Concluded.
Would you fight fair, or conquer by a spell?
Have. I do not care for witchcraft; I would have
My strength rely merely upon itself.
Slicer. There is a way, though I ne'er show'd it yet
But to one Spaniard, and 'twas wondrous happy.
Have. Think me a second Spaniard, worthy sir.
Slicer. Then listen. The design is by a dinner—
An easy way, you'll say: I'll say, a true.
Hunger may break stone walls, it ne'er hurts men:
Your cleanly feeder is your man of valour.
What makes the peasant grovel in his muck,
Humbling his crooked soul, but that he eats
Bread just in colour like it? Courage ne'er
Vouchsaf'd to dwell a minute where a sullen
Pair of brown loaves darken'd the dirty table;
Shadows of bread, not bread. You never knew
A solemn son of bag-pudding and pottage
Make a commander, or a tripe-eater
Become a tyrant. He's the kingdom's arm
That can feed large and choicely.
Have. If that be
The way, I'll eat myself into courage,
And will devour valour enough quickly.
Slicer. 'Tis not the casual eating of those meats
That doth procure those spirits, but the order
And manner of the meal—the ranking of
The dishes, that does all; else he that hath
The greatest range, would be the hardiest man.
Those goodly juments of the guard would fight
(As they eat beef) after six stone a day;
The spit would nourish great attempts: my lord
Would lead a troop, as well as now a masque;
And force the enemy's sword with as much ease
As his mistress's bodkin: gallants would
Owe valour to their ordinaries, and fight
After a crown meal.
Have. I do conceive
The art is all in all. If that you'll give
A bill of your directions, I'll account
Myself oblig'd unto you for my safety.
Slicer. Take it then thus. All must be soldier-like;
No dish but must present artillery;
Some military instrument in each.
Imprimis, six or seven yards of tripe
Display'd instead o' th' ensign.
Have. Why, you said
Tripe-eaters ne'er made tyrants.
Slicer. Peace, sir: learners
Must be attentive, and believe. Do y' think
We'll eat this? 'Tis but for formality.
Item, a collar of good large fat brawn
Serv'd for a drum, waited upon by two
Fair long black-puddings, lying by for drumsticks.
Item, a well-grown lamprey for a fife;
Next some good curious march-panes[138] made into
The form of trumpets. Then in order shall
Follow the officers: the captain first
Shall be presented in a warlike cock,
Swimming in white broth, as he's wont in blood:
The serjeant-major he may bustle in
The shape of some large turkey: for myself,
Who am lieutenant, I'm content there be
A buzzard only. Let the corporal
Come sweating in a breast of mutton, stuff'd[139]
With pudding, or strut in some aged carp:
Either doth serve, I think. As for perdues,[140]
Some choice sous'd fish brought couchant in a dish
Among some fennel or some other grass,
Shows how they lie i' th' field. The soldier then
May be thus rank'd: the common one, chicken,
Duck, rabbit, pigeon; for the more genteel,
Snipe, woodcock, partridge, pheasant, quail, will serve.
Hear. Bravely contriv'd!
Slicer. That weapons be not wanting,
We'll have a dozen of bones well-charg'd with marrow
For ordnance, muskets, petronels, petards;
Twelve yards of sausage by, instead of match;
And caveary[141] then prepar'd for wild-fire.
Hear. Rare rogue! how I do love him now, methinks!
Slicer. Next we'll have true fat eatable old pikes,
Then a fresh turbot brought in for a buckler,
With a long spitchcock for the sword adjoin'd.
We'll bring the ancient weapons into play.
Have. Most rare, by heaven!
Slicer. Peaches, apricocks,
And malecotoons,[142] with other choicer plums,
Will serve for large-sized bullets; then a dish
Or two of peas for small ones. I could now
Tell you of pepper in the stead of powder,
But that 'tis not in fashion 'mongst us gallants.
If this might all stand upon drum-heads, 'twould
Work somewhat better.
Have. Will't so? Then we'll have 'em
From every ward i' th' city.
Slicer. No, I'm loth
To put you to such charge. For once a long
Table shall serve the turn; 'tis no great matter.
The main thing's still behind. We must have there
Some fort to scale; a venison-pasty doth it.
You may have other pies instead of outworks:
Some sconces would not be amiss, I think.
When this is all prepar'd, and when we see
The table look like a pitch'd battle, then
We'll give the word, fall to, slash, kill and spoil:
Destruction, rapine, violence! spare none.
Hear. Thou hast forgotten wine, lieutenant—wine.
Slicer. Then to avoid the gross absurdity
Of a dry battle, 'cause there must some blood
Be spill'd (on th' enemies' side, I mean) you may
Have there a rundlet of brisk claret, and
As much of alicant; the same quantity
Of tent would not be wanting—'tis a wine
Most like to blood. Some shall bleed fainter colours,
As sack and white wine. Some that have the itch
(As there are tailors still in every army),
Shall run with Rhenish that hath brimstone in't.
When this is done, fight boldly: write yourself
The tenth or 'leventh worthy—which you please:
Your choice is free.
Have. I'll be the gaming worthy;
My word shall be twice twelve. I think the dice
Ne'er mounted any upon horseback yet.
Slicer. We'll bring your friends and ours to this large dinner:
It works the better, eaten before witness.
Beware you say 'tis yours; confession is
One step to weakness; private conscience is
A theatre to valour. Let's be close:
Old Credulous and his son, and Master Caster,
Shall all be there.
Have. But then they will grow valiant
All at my charge.
Slicer. Ne'er fear't: the unknowing man
Eats only flesh, the understanding, valour:
His ignorance i' th' mystery keeps him coward.
To him 'tis but a meal; to you 'tis virtue.
It shall be kept here.
Have. No fitter place. There is
An old rich clutch-fist knight, Sir Thomas Bitefig,
Invite him too; perhaps I may have luck,
And break his purse yet open for one hundred.
A usurer is somewhat exorable,
When he is full; he ne'er lends money empty.
Slicer. Discreet, and wisely done: I was about
T' have prompted it.
Hear. Stout Master Have-at-all,
Let's be sworn brothers.
Have. Pox! thou fear'st I'll beat thee,
After I've eaten. Dost thou think I'll offer't?
By my next meal, I won't; nay, I do love
My friends howe'er. I do but think how I
Shall bastinado o'er the ordinaries.
Arm'd with my sword, battoon and foot, I'll walk
To give each rank its due. No one shall 'scape,
But he I win of.
Hear. You shall have at least
Some twenty warrants sign'd upon you straight:
The trunk-hose justices will try all means
To bind you to the peace, but that your strength
Shall not be bound by any.
Slicer. Surgeons will
Pray for your health and happiness: you may
Bring them to be your tributaries, if
You but deny to fight awhile.
Have. My teeth
Are on an edge till I do eat. Now will
I cosen all men without opposition:
I feel my strength increase with very thought on't.
Sword, sword, thou shalt grow fat; and thou, battoon,
Hold out, I prythee: when my labour's done,
I'll plant thee in the Tower-yard, and there,
Water'd with wine, thou shalt revive, and spring
In spite of nature with fresh succulent boughs,
Which shall supply the commonwealth with cudgels.
Thou I first meet after this meal I do
Pronounce unhappy shadow—happy yet
In that thou'lt fall by me. Some men I will
Speak into carcase; some I'll look to death;
Others I'll breathe to dust: none shall hold back
This fatal arm. The Templars shall not dare
T' attempt a rescue; no mild words shall bury
My splitted, spitchcock'd——
Slicer. Oliv'd,[143] hash'd——
Hear. Dri'd, powder'd——
Have. Roasted fury. [Exeunt.