Act 2 — Scene II.[1182]
Reading edition
Scene II.[1182]
Kitely, Downright. [Enter] Mathew [struggling with] Bobadill.
Mat. I will speak to him.
Bob. Speak to him! away! By the foot of Pharaoh, you shall not! you shall not do him that grace.—The time of day to you, gentleman o’ the house. Is master Wellbred stirring?
Dow. How then? What should he do? 6
Bob. Gentleman of the house, it is to you. Is he within, sir?
Kit. He came not to his lodging to-night, sir, I assure you. 10
Dow. Why, do you hear? You!
Bob. The gentleman citizen hath satisfied me; I’ll talk to no scavenger. [Exeunt Bob. and Mat.]
Dow. How! scavenger! Stay, sir, stay!
Kit. Nay, brother Downright. 15
Dow. ’Heart! stand you away, an you love me.
Kit. You shall not follow him now, I pray you, brother, good faith you shall not; I will overrule you.
Dow. Ha! scavenger! Well, go to, I say 20 little; but, by this good day (God forgive me I should swear), if I put it up[1183] so, say I am the rankest cow that ever pist. ’Sdeins, an I swallow this, I’ll ne’er draw my sword in the sight of Fleet-street again while I live; I’ll sit in a 25 barn with madge-howlet, and catch mice first. Scavenger! heart!—and I’ll go near to fill that huge tumbrel-slop[1184] of yours with somewhat, an I have good luck: your Garagantua breech cannot carry it away so. 30
Kit. Oh, do not fret yourself thus; never think on ’t.
Dow. These are my brother’s consorts, these! These are his cam’rades, his walking mates! He’s a gallant, a cavaliero too, right hangman cut! Let me not live, an I could not find in 35 my heart to swinge the whole ging[1185] of ’em, one after another, and begin with him first. I am griev’d it should be said he is my brother, and take these courses. Well, as he brews, so shall he drink, for George, again. Yet he shall 40 hear on ’t, and that tightly too, an I live, i’ faith.
Kit. But, brother, let your reprehension, then, Run in an easy current, not o’er high Carried with rashness, or devouring choler; But rather use the soft persuading way,45 Whose powers will work more gently, and compose Th’ imperfect thoughts you labour to reclaim; More winning than enforcing the consent.
Dow. Ay, ay, let me alone for that, I warrant you. 49
Kit. How now! (Bell rings.) Oh, the bell rings to breakfast. Brother, I pray you go in, and bear my wife company till I come; I’ll but give order for some despatch of business to my servants.
[Exit Downright.]