MINIVER
If they draw sweet hearts, let us shift for ourselves.
TUCCA
My noble swaggerer, I will not fall out with thee.I cannot, my mad cumrade, find in my hear to shed thy blood.
SIR VAUGHAN
Cumrade? By Sesu, call me cumrade again and I’ll cumrade ye about the sins and shoulders.Ownds, what come you to smell out here?Did you not dine and feed horribly well today at dinner, but you come to munch here and give us winter-plumes?I pray, depart; go marse, marse, marse out a doors.
TUCCA
Adieu, Sir Eglamour, adieu Lute-string, Curtain-rod, Goose-quill; here, give that full-nos’d skinker these rhymes; and hark, I’ll tag my codpiece point with thy legs; spout-pot, I’ll empty thee.
ASINIUS
Dost threaten me?God’s lid, I’ll bind thee to the good forbearing!
SIR VAUGHAN
Will you amble, Hobby-horse?Will you trot and amble?
TUCCA
Raw artichoke, I shall sauce thee! [Exit.
MINIVER
I pray you, Master Tucca, will you send me the first pound you borrowed on me?O, you cannot hear now, but I’ll make you hear me and feel me too in another place; to your shame, I warrant you.Thou shalt not cony-catch me for five pounds.He took it up, Sir Vaughan, in your name; he swore you sent for it to mum withal. ’Twas five pound in gold, as white as my kercher.
SIR VAUGHAN
Ownds!Five pound in my name to mum about withal!
MINIVER
Ay, to mum withal, but he plays mum-budget with me.
SIR VAUGHAN
Peter Salamander, tie up your great and your little sword, by Sesu, I’ll go sing him while ’tis hot.I’ll beat five pound out of his leather pilch.Master Horace, let you wits inhabit in your right places; if I fall sansomely upon the widow.I have some cousins German at court, shall beget you the reversion of the master of the king’s revels, or else be his lord of misrule now at Christmas.Come, ladies.Whoreson, straggling Captain; I’ll pound him! [Exeunt. Manet HORACE and ASINIUS.
HORACE
How now?What ailst thou, that thou lookst so pale?
ASINIUS
Nay, nothing but I am afraid the Welsh knight has given me nothing but purging comfits; this Captain sticks pockily in my stomach.Read this scroll; he says they’re rhymes, and bid me give them you.
HORACE
Rhymes?’Tis a challenge sent to you.
ASINIUS
To me?
HORACE
He says here you divulg’d my epigrams.
ASINIUS
And for that dares he challenge me?
HORACE
You see he dares, but dare you answer him?
ASINIUS
I dare answer his challenge, by word of mouth, or by writing, but i scorn to meet him.I hope he and I are not parallels.
HORACE
Dear Bubo, thou shalt answer him; our credits
Lie pawn’d upon thy resolution,
Thy valour must redeem them; charge thy spirits
To wait more close, and near thee.If he kill thee,
I’ll not survive; into one lottery
We’ll cast out fates; together live and die.
ASINIUS
Content.I owe God a death, and if he will make me pay’d against my will, I’ll say ’tis hard dealing [Exeunt.
Act Four, Scene Two
ENTER SIR ADAM, TUCCA, with two pistols by his sides, his Boy laden with swords and bucklers.
TUCCA
Did Apollo’s frieze gown watch man — boy, dost hear Turkey-cock’s tail, have an eye behind, lest the enemy assault our rearward, — on; proceed Father Adam; did that same tyrannical-tongu’d ragamuffin Horace turn bald-pate’s out so naked?
SIR ADAM
He did, and whipp’d them so with nettles, that
The widow swore that a bare-headed man
Should not man her; the Lady Petula
Was there, heard all, and told me this.
TUCCA
Go to.
Thy gold was accepted, it was, and she shall bring thee into her paradise, she shall, small Adam, she shall.
SIR ADAM
But how?But how, Captain?
TUCCA
Thus:go, cover a table with sweetmeats, let all the gentlewomen and that same Pasquil’s-madcap, Mother Bee there, nibble, but them bite.They will come to gobble down plums; then take up that pair of basket hilts, with my commission, I mean Crispinus and Fannius; charge one of them to take up the bucklers, against that hair-monger Horace, and have a bout or two, in defence of bald pates.Let them crack every crown that has hair on’t.Go, let the mlift up baldness to the sky and thou shalt see ‘twill turn Miniver’s heart quite against the hair.
SIR ADAM
Excellent.Why then, Master Tucca —
TUCCA
Nay, whir, nimble Prickshaft, whir, away; I go upon life and death.Away, fly Scanderberg, fly!
Enter ASINIUS BUBO and HORACE aloft.
BOY
Arm, Captain, arm, arm, arm!The foe is come down! [TUCCA offers to shoot.
ASINIUS
Hold, Captain Tucca, hold.I am Bubo and come to answer any thing you can lay to my charge.
TUCCA
What, dost summon a parle, my little drumstick?’Tis too late; thou seest my red flag is hung out.I’ll fill thy guts with thine own carrion carcass, and then eat them up instead of sausages!
ASINIUS
Use me how you will.I am resolute, for I ha’ made my will.
TUCCA
Wilt fight Turk-a-ten-pence?Wilt fight then?
ASINIUS
Thou shalt find I’ll fight in a godly quarrel, if I be once fir’d.
TUCCA
Thou shalt not want fire; I’ll ha’ thee burnt when thou wilt, my cold Cornelius.But come; respice funem; look, thou seest; open thyself, my little cutler’s shop.I challenge thee thou slender gentleman at four sundry weapons.
ASINIUS
Thy challenge was but at one, and I’ll answer but one.
BOY
Thou shalt answer too, for thou shalt answer me and my Captain.
TUCCA
Well said, cockerel, out-crown him.Art handy, noble Huon?Art magnanimous, lick-trencher?Look, search, lest some lie in ambush; for this man-at-arms has paper in’s belly, or some friend in a corner, or else he durst not be so crank.
BOY
Captain, captain, Horace stands sneaking here.
TUCCA
I smelt the foul-fisted morter-treader.Come, my most damnable fastidious rascal, I ahve a suit to both of you.
ASINIUS
O hold, most pitiful Captain, hold!
HORACE
Hold, Captain, ’tis known that Horace is valliant, and a man of the sword.
TUCCA
A gentleman or an honest citizen shall not sit in your penny-bench theatreswith his squirrel by his side cracking nuts; nor sneak into a tavern with his mermaid; but he shall be satir’d and epigramm’d upon, and his humour must run up o’th’stage.You’ll be every gentleman in’s humour, and every gentleman out on’s humour.We that are heads of legions and bands and fear none but these same shoulder-clappers shall fear you, you serpentine rascal.
ASINIUS
Honour’d captain.
TUCCA
Art not famous enough yet, my mad Horastratus for killing a player, but thou must eat men alive?Thy friends?Sirrah Wildman, thy patrons?Thou Antropopagite, thy Mecænasses?
HORACE
Captain, I’m sorry that you lay this wrong
So close upon your heart.Dear Captain, think
I writ out of hot blood, which, now being cold,
I could be pleas’s to please you, to quaff down
The poison’d ink in which I dipp’d your name.
TUCCA
Sayst thou so, my Palinodical rhymester?
HORACE
Henceforth I’ll rather breathe out solecisms,
To do which I’d as soon
speak blasphemy,
Than with my tongue or pen to wound your worth.
Believe it, noble Captain; it to me
Shall be a crown, to crown your acts with praise;
Out of your hate, your love I’ll strongly raise.
TUCCA
I know now th’ast a number of these quiddits to bind men to’th’peace.’Tis thy fashion to flirt ink in every man’s face, and then to crawl into his bosom and damn thyself to wip’t off again; yet to give out abroad that he was glad to come to composition with thee.I know Monsieur Machiavel, ’tis one a’ thy rules.My long-heel’d Troglodite, I could make thine ears burn now by dropping into them all those hot oaths to which, thyself gav’st voluntary fire, when thou wast the man in the moon, that thou wouldst never squib out any new saltpetre jests against honest Tucca, nor these Maligo-tasters, his Poetasters; I could, Cinocephalus, but I will not, yet thou knowst thou hast broke those oaths in pring, my excellent infernal.
HORACE
Captain —
TUCCA
Nay, I smell what breath is come from thee.Thy answer is that there’s no faith to be held with heritics and infidels, and therefore thou swears any thing.But come, lend me thy hand; thou and I henceforth will be Alexander and Lodwick, the Gemeni, sworn brothers.Thou shalt be Perithous and Tucca Theseus.But I’ll leave thee i’th’lurch when thou makst thy voyage into hell.Till then, thine assuredly.
HORACE
With all my soul, dear Captain.
TUCCA
Thou’lt shoot thy quills at me when my terrible back’s turn’d for all this, with not, Porcupine?And bring me and my Heliconisters into thy dialogs to make us talk madly, would not, Lucian?
HORACE
Captain, if I do —
TUCCA
Nay, and thou dost, horns of Lucifer, the parcel-poets shall sue thy wrangling muse in the court of Parnassus, and never leave hunting her, till she plead in Forma Pauperis; but I hope th’ast more grace.Come friends, clap hands; ’tis a bargain.Amirable Bubo, thy fist must walk too.So, I love thee, now I see th’art a little Hercules and wilt fight.I’ll stick thee now in my company like a sprig of rosemary.
Enter SIR VAUGHAN and PETER FLASH.
FLASH
Draw, Sir Rees, he’s yonder.Shall I upon him?
SIR VAUGHAN
Upon him?Go to, go to, Peter Salamander; hold in God’s name, hold.I will kill him to his face, because I mean he shall answer for it.Being an eye-witness.One word, Captain Tucky.
TUCCA
I’ll give thee then thousand words and thou wilt, my little Thomas Thomasius.
SIR VAUGHAN
By Sesu, ’tis best you give good ords too, lest I beat out your tongue, and make your ord near to be take more.Do you hear, five pounds, five pounds, Tucky?
TUCCA
Thou shalt ha’ five, and five, and five, and thou wantst money , my Job.
SIR VAUGHAN
Leave your fetches and your fegaries, you tough leather-jerkins; leave you quandaries and tricks and draw upon me, y’are best.You cony-catch widow Minver-caps for five pounds and say ’tis for me to cry “Mum,” and make me run up and down in dishounours and discredits?Is’t not true, you wink-a-pipes rascal?Is not true?
TUCCA
Right, true, guilty.I remember’t now, for when I spake a good word to the widow for thee, my young Sampson —
SIR VAUGHAN
For five pounds, you cheating scab, for five pounds, not for me.
TUCCA
For thee, oh, Cæsar, for thee, I took up five pounds in gold that lay in her lap, and said I’d give it thee as a token from her.I did it but to smell out how she stood affected to thee, to feel her.Ay, and I know what she said; I know how I carried away the gold.
SIR VAUGHAN
By Sesu, I ha’ not the mercy to fall upon him now.Master Tucky, did Minivers part quietly from her gold, because you lied and said it was for me?
TUCCA
Quietly, in peace, without grumbling, made no noise.I know how I tempted her, in thy behalf, my little trangdo.
SIR VAUGHAN
Captain Tucca, I will pay back her five pounds, unless you be damn’d in lies, and hold you.I pray you pocket up this.By the cross a’ this sword and dagger, Captain, you shall take it.
TUCCA
Dost swear by daggers?Nay then, I’ll put up more at the hands then this.
FLASH
Is the fray done, sir?
SIR VAUGHAN
Done, Peter.Put up your smeeter.
TUCCA
Come hither, my sour-fac’d poet.Fling away that beard-brush Bubo, casheer him, and hark.Knight, attend.So, that raw-head and bloody-bones Sir Adam has fee’d another brat, of those nine common wenches, to defend baldness, and to rail against hair; he’ll have fling at thee, my noble cock-sparrow.
SIR VAUGHAN
At me?Will he fling the cudgels of his wit at me?
TUCCA
And at thy button-cap too.But come, I’ll be your leader; you shall stand, hear all, and not be seen.Cast off that blue coat, away with that flawn, and follow, come. [Exit.
HORACE
Bubo, we follow Captain. [Talks aside with ASINIUS.
SIR VAUGHAN
Peter, leave coming behind me, I pray, any longer, for you and I must part, Peter.
FLASH
‘Sounds, sir, I hope you will not serve me so, to turn me away in this case.
SIR VAUGHAN
Turn you into a fool’s coat.I eman I will go solus or in solitaries alone.‘ounds, y’are best give better words, or I’ll turn you away indeed.Where is Captain Tucky?Come, Horace.Go you home, Peter.
FLASH
I’ll home to your cost, and I can get into the wine cellar.[Exit.
HORACE
Remember where to meet me.
ASINIUS
Yes, I’ll meet.Tucca should ha’ found, I dare meet.[Exit.
HORACE
Dare defend baldness, which out conquering muse
Has beaten down so flat?Well, we will go
And see what weapons their weak wits do bring.
If sharp, we’ll spread a large and nobler ling.
Tucca, here lies thy peace; war roars again.
My sword shall never cut thee but my pen. [Exit.
Act Four, Scene Three
ENTER SIR ADAM, CRISPINUS, DEMETRIUS, BLUNT, MINIVER, PETULA, PHILOCALIA and DICACHE.
LADIES
Thanks, good Sir Adam.
SIR ADAM
Welcome, red-cheek’d ladies,
And welcome comely widow.Gentlemen,
Not that our sorry banquet is put by
From stealing more sweet kisses from your lips,
Walk in my garden.Ladies, let your eyes
Shed life into these flowers by their bright beams.
Sit, sit, here’s a large bower; here all may hear.
Now, good Crispanus, let your praise begin,
There, where it left off baldness.
CRISPINUS
I shall win
No praise, by praising that which to dispraise
All tongues are ready, and which none would have.
BLUNT
To prove that best by strong and armed reason
Whose part reason fears to take, cannot but prove
Your wit’s fine temper, and from these win love.
MINIVER
I promise you has almost converted me.I pray, bring forward your bald reasons, master poet.
CRISPINUS
Mistress, you give my reasons proper names,
For arguments, like children, should be like
The subject that begets them.I must strive
To crown bald heads, therefore must badly thrive.
But be it as it can.To what before
Went arm’d at table, this force bring I more;
If a bare head, being like a dead man’s skull,
Should bear up no praise else but this; it sets
Out end before out eyes.Sho
uld I despair
From giving baldness higher place than hair?
MINIVER
Nay perdy, hair has the higher place.
CRISPINUS
The goodliest and most glorious strange-built wonder
Which the great architect hath made, is heaven;
For there he keeps his court.It is his kingdom
That’s the best masterpiece, yet ’tis the roof
And ceiling of the world; that may be call’d
The head or crown of Earth, and yet that’s bald;
All creatures in it bald; the lovely sun
Has a face sleet as gold; the full-cheek’d moon
As bright and smooth as silver; nothing there
Wears dangling locks, but sometime blazing stars
Whose flaming curls set realms on fire with wars.
Descend more low; look through man’s fivefold sense;
Of all, the eye, bears greatest eminence;
And yet that’s bald; the hairs that like a lace
Are stitch’d unto the lids, borrow those forms
Like penthouses to save the eyes from storms.
SIR ADAM
Right; well said.
CRISPINUS
A head and face o’ergrown with shaggy dross,
O, ’tis an orient pearl his all in moss;
But when the head’s all naked and uncrown’d
It is the world’s globe, even, smooth and round.
Baldness is Nature’s butt, at which out life
Shoots her land arrow.What man ever lead
His age out with a staff, but had a head
Bare and uncover’d?He whose years do rise
To their full height, yet not bald, is not wise.
The head is wisdom’s house, hair but the thatch.
Hair?It’s the basest stubble, in scorn of it
This proverb sprung, “he has more hair than wit.”
Mark you not in derision how we call
A head grown thick with hair, bush natural?
MINIVER
By your leave, master poet, but that bush natural is one a’ the trimmest and most intanglingst beauty in a woman.
CRISPINUS
Right, but believe this, pardon me most fair,
You would have much more wit had you less hair.
I could more weary you to tell the proofs,
As they pass by, which fight on baldness’ side,
Then were you task’d to number on a head
The hairs.I know not how your thoughts are lead
On this strong tower shall my opinion rest,
Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker Page 99