(SCENE 1.)

Enter Henrico (as newly risen).

Hen. Buzzano! slave! Buzzano!

Enter Buzzano with Cloake & Rapier.

Buz. Signior, what a buzzing you make, as if you were a fly at Bartholomew-tyde at a Butchers stall: doe you think I am deafe?

Hen. No, but blind; do'st sleepe as thou goest?

Buz. No, but I goe as I sleepe, & that's scurvily.

Hen. Call my brother Manuell.

Buz. Brother Manuell!

Hen. How? pray (goodman rascall) how long have he & you bene Brothers?

Buz. I know not; may be ever since we were borne, for your father used to come home to my mother, & why may not I be a chipp of the same blocke out of which you two were cutt? Mothers are sure of their children, but no man is able to sweare who was his father.

Hen. You are very lusty.

Buz. I eate eringoes[31] and potchd eggs last night.

Hen. Goe & call him.

Buz. What?

Hen. You hound, is he up?

Buz. No, he's in Bed, and yet he may be up too; Ile goe see.

Hen. Stay, and speake low.—How now?

[Buz. falls downe.

Buz. I can speake no lower unlesse I creepe into the Cellar.

Hen. I'me glad you are so merry, sir.

Buz. So am I; my heart is a fiddle; the strings are rozend with ioy that my other young Mr. is come home, & my tongue the sticke that makes the fiddle squeake.

Hen. Come hither, leave your fooling & tell me truely: didst sleepe to night or no?

Buz. Sleepe? Not that I remember: Ile sweare (& my eyes should come out as 2 witnesses) that I nere slept worse; for what with ycur Spanish flyes (the pocky, stinging musquitoes) & what with your skip Jacke fleas, the nap of my sleepe was worne off.

Hen. Didst heare nothing?

Buz. Not in my sleepe.

Hen. Collect thy sences; when thou wert awake didst thou heare nothing?

Buz. Nothing.

Hen. Twixt 12 & one?

Buz. 12 & one? Then was I in my dead sleepe, cursing the fleas.

Hen. Or about one & two.

Buz. That's Three:—Now the Beetle[32] of my head beates it into my memory that as you & your brother Manuell lay in the high Bed, & I trondling[33] underneath, I heard one of you talke most stigmatically in his sleepe—most horriferously.

Hen. Right, now thou com'st to me,—so did I.

Buz. And then once or twice the sleepy voice cryde out, "Oh it was I that murthered him! this hand killd him!"

Hen. Art sure thou heardst this?

Buz. Am I sure these are my eares?

Hen. And dar'st thou sweare thou heardst it?

Buz. Lay downe 20 oathes, and see if Ile not take them.

Hen. And whose voice was it did appeare to thee?

Buz. Whose voice was it? Well said, yong Master! make an asse of your fathers man!

Hen. Come, come, be serious: whose voice?

Buz. Whose voice? why then, if your windpipe were slitt now and opend, there should the voice be found. I durst at midnight be sworne that the Ghost of your voice appeard before me.

Hen. No; me it frighted too; up stood my haire stiffe & on end.

Buz. As a Catts does at sight of a dog.

Hen. A cold sweat pearld in dropps all ore my body; For 'twas my Brothers voice, & were I calld Before a thousand Judges I must sweare It could be no mans els.

Buz. Why, then, I must sweare so, too.

Hen. "Oh it was I that murthered him! this hand killed him!"

[Within, Man] Buzzano!

Hen. He's up.

[Man.] Buzzano!

Buz. I come.

Hen. Helpe to make him ready,[34] but not a word on thy life.

Buz. Mum. [Exit.

Hen. So let it worke; thus far my wheeles goe true. Because a Captaine, leading up his men In the proud van, has honour above them, And they his vassailes; must my elder brother Leave me a slave to the world? & why, forsooth? Because he gott the start in my mother's belly, To be before me there. All younger brothers Must sitt beneath the salt[35] & take what dishes The elder shoves downe to them. I doe not like This kind of service: could I, by this tricke, Of a voice counterfeited & confessing The murther of my father, trusse up this yonker And so make my selfe heire & a yonger brother Of him, 'twere a good dayes worke. Wer't not fine angling? Hold line and hook: Ile puzzle him.

Enter Manuell & Buzzano.

Man. Morrow, brother.

Hen. Oh, good morrow: you have slept soundly.

Man. Travellers that are weary have sleepe led in a string.

Buz. So doe those that are hangd: all that travell & are weary doe not sleepe.

Man. Why, Mr. Buzzano, why?

Buz. Midwives travell at night & are weary with eating groaning pyes[36], & yet sleepe not: shall I hooke you?

Man. Hooke me? what meanst?

Buz. These Taylors are the wittyest knaves that live by bread.

Hen. And why witty, out of your wisdome?

Buz. In old time gentlemen would call to their men & cry, "Come, trusse me": now the word is "Come, hooke me"; for every body now lookes so narrowly to Taylors bills (some for very anger never paying them) that the needle lance knights, in revenge of those prying eyes, put so many hookes & eyes to every hose & dubblet.

Man. Well, sir, Ile not be hookd then now.

Buz. Tis well if you be not. [Exit.

Hen. France is an excellent country.

Man. Oh, a brave one.

Hen. Your Monsieurs gallant sparkes.

Man. Sparkes? oh, sir, all fire, The soule of complement, courtship & fine language; Witty & active; lovers of faire Ladyes, Short naggs & English mastives; proud, fantasticke, Yet such a pride & such fantasticknes, It so becomes them, other Nations (Especially the English) hold themselves No perfect gentlemen till frenchifyed.

Hen. Tush, England breeds more apes than Barbary.— How chance my father came not home with you?

Man. He was too hard tyed by the leg with busines.

Hen. What busines?

Man. Tis but stepping into France. And he perhaps will tell you.

Hen. Perhaps? tis well: What part of France did you leave him in?

Man. What part? why I left him at Nancy in Lorraine. No, no, I lye, now I remember me twas at Chaalons in Burgundy.

Hen. Hoyda, a most loving child That knowes not where he left his father, & yet Comes but now from him! had you left in France Your whore behind you, in your Table bookes You would have sett downe the streets very name, Yes, and the baudy signe, too.

Man. Hum, you say well, sir. Now you are up to th'eares in Baudery, Pray tell me one thing, Brother; (I am sorry To putt forth such a question) but speake truly; Have you not in my fathers absence done A piece of worke (not your best masterpiece) But such an one as on the house of Guzman Will plucke a vengeance, & on the good old man (Our noble father) heape such hills of sorrow To beate him into his grave?

Hen. What's this your foolery?

Man. Pray heaven it prove soe: have not you defac'd That sweet & matchles goodnes, Eleonora, Fernando's daughter?

Hen. How defacd her?

Man. Hearke, sir: playd Tarquin's part and ravisht her.

Hen. 'Tis a lye.

Man. I hope so too.

Hen. What villaine speakes it?

Man. One with so wide a throat, that uttering it 'Twas heard in France; a letter, sir, informed My father so.

Hen. Letter? from whom?

Man. A woman.

Hen. She's a whore.

Man. Twas Eleonora.

Hen. She's, then, a villanous strumpet so to write, And you an asse, a coxcomb to beleeve it.

Man. Nettled? then let me tell you that I feare I shall for ever blush when in my hearing Any names Henrico Guzman for my brother. In right of vertue & a womans honour (This deare wrongd Ladies) I dare call thee Villaine.

Hen. Villaine!

They fight: Enter Ferdinand and attendants.

Fer. Part them, part them!

Hen. Let me see his heart Panting upon my weapons point; then part us. Oh, pray, forbeare the roome.

Fer. Fy, Fy! two Brothers. Two Eaglets of one noble Aery, Pecke out each others eyes!—Welcome from France! How does your honourd father?

Man. Well, my Lord: I left him late in Paris.

Hen. So, so; in Paris! Hath he 3 bodyes? Lorraine, Burgundy, & Paris! My Lord, his Highnes putts into your hand A sword of Justice: draw it forth, I charge you By the oath made to your king, to smite this Traytour, The murtherer of my father!

Man. I?

Hen. Yes, thou: Thou, slave, hast bene his Executioner.

Man. Where? when?

Hen. There, there; in France.

Man. Oh heavenly powers!

Hen. Oh, intollerable villaine! parricide! Monster of mankind! Spaniards shame!

Fer. Pray, heare me: Are you in earnest?

Hen. Earnest?

Fer. Be advisd.

Hen. Lay hold on him, the murtherer of my father: I have armd proofes against him.

Man. An armd devill, And that's thy selfe! Produce thy proofes.

Hen. I will, sir; But I will doe't by law.

Fer. You are up allready Too deepe, I feare, in Law.

Hen. If you can, sett then Your foote upon my head & drowne me, your worst: Let me have Justice here.

Fer. Well, sir, you shall. Manuell, I can no lesse than lay upon you The hand of my authority. In my Caroach[37] You shall with mee to Sherris, 3 leagues off, Where the Lords sitt to-morrow: there you must answer This most unbrotherly accusation.

Man. And prove him a false caytiffe.

Fer. I will be both your guard, sir, and your bayle And make no doubt to free you from this Viper.

Hen. Viper!

Fer. Y'are bound to appeare at Sherris, sir; And you were best not fayle. I have a certaine Daughter there shall meete you. Come.

[Exit Fer., Man., &[38]

Hen. Thither I dare you both, all three.—Buzzano!

Buz. Sir?

Hen. Saddle my Jennet? Ile to Sherris presently.

Buz. And I?

Hen. And you; but I must schoole you, sirra.

[Exeunt.