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Freind, heres to thee: Ile shake thee, thou empty Rascall, to peeces, and as Hector drew Achilles bout the walls of Troy at his horse tayle, so shalt thou at a doggs tayle be dragd in vild disgrace throughout the towne. I, I, he had need to be squeezd; why tis true, this is one, but not to purpose. Enter Timothy, Grimes, Sucket, Crackby, with flaggons of wine. Suc. 'Tis well don, cherish valour.
You wonnot murder? helpe Captain, Mr. Crackby, Tim! Enter Omnes. Omnes. How now! how now! what's the matter? Lov. Grimes. Not if you meet him in the likenes of a bottle of Sack, good Steward. Tim. Why this is excellent. Suc. Grimes, let me hugg thee, thou sonn of witt. Grimes. Nay, letts not leave him thus. Crac. Leade on, weele follow. Finis Actus Secundi. Actus Tertius.
Well considered; 'tis for our reputation. Enter Bonvill, Clarinna, Belizea and Grimes. Bon. Come, you are wantons both: If I were absent, You would with as much willingness traduce My manners to them. What Idiots are wee men To tender our services to women Who deride us for our paines! Cla. Bel. Nay, theres his Nephew, Crackby, your sweet servant. Clar. My Servant!
And here, Grimes, ty this cloath about his head: oh, for some blood! Grimes. Here, I have prickt my finger. Tim. Let you and I, Mr. Crackby, goe to buffitts for a bloody nose. Crac. No, no, you shall pardon me for that, Tim ; no, no; no boyes play. Suc. So, so; now set him in the chaires. Hart of valour! he looks like a Mapp oth world. Death, what are these? Enter Musike. Grimes.
Young Crackby and his friend are newly up And have bin with us. My sister has had The modest bout with them: 'tis such a wench. Are you a sleepe? why doe you not looke up? What muse you on? Bon. Faith, I was thinking where In the whole world to find an honest woman. Bel. An excellent meditation! What doe you take me for, my Mother and my Sister? Bon.
An allusion is intended to the tailor's "hell," the hole under the counter. Vide note on Vol. I., p. 175. MS. tracning. In the MS. the stage direction has been altered to "Enter Sir Gefferie & Bunche." The whole of the colloquy between Sucket and Crackby is marked as if to be omitted. Doubtless this was one of the "reformacons" made at the instance of the Master of the Revels.
He sayes my mother was the originall Of Bonviles slaunder; and how impious Twere for a child to thinke so, filiall duty Instructs my knowlidge. Cla. Be not confident; Your piety may misleade you. Though your mother, Shees passion like to us; we had it from her. Ile say no more; the event will testifie Whoes in the fault. Enter Sucket and Crackby. Suc.
Crackby, does your wisdome thinke That I can love you? Crac. My worth deserves it. Cla. Well said, impudence. Goe, get you home toth Cittie; goe solicitt Some neighbors daughter; match with Nan your Schoolefellow With whome you usd to walk to Pimblicoe To eate plumbe cakes and creame, one of your parish, Good what-doe-you-lack. Crac. This is offensive to My reputation. Cla.
I long till I receive the audience of it. Tim. Lady. Ile thinke of it. Enter Sucket and Crackby . Suc. Come, deport your selfe with a more elated countenance: a personage of your rare endowments so dejected!
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