Act 2 — SCENE VII.
Reading edition
A Bed-chamber: Follywit, bound, in bed.
Sir B. [within] Ho, Gumwater!
Fol. Singlestone!
[Within] Jenkin, wa, ha, ho!
360[Within] Ewen!
[Within] Simcod!
Fol. Footman! whew!
Foot. [within] O good your worship, let me help your good old worship!
Enter Sir Bounteous, with a cord half unbound, and Footman,[790] assisting to loose him.
Sir B. Ah, poor honest footman! how did’st thou ’scape this massacre?
Foot. E’en by miracle, and lying in my clothes, sir.
Sir B. I think so; I would I had lain in my clothes too, footman, so I had ’scaped ’em: I could have but risse[791] like a beggar then, and so I do now, till more money come in; but nothing afflicts me so much, my poor geometrical footman, as that the barbarous villains should lay violence upon my lord. Ah, the binding of my lord cuts my heart in two pieces! So, so, ’tis well; I thank thee: run to thy fellows; undo ’em, undo ’em, undo ’em!
Foot. Alas, if my lord should miscarry, they’re unbound already, sir; they have no occupation but sleep, feed, and fart. [Exit.
Sir B. If I be not ashamed to look my lord i’ th’ face, I’m a Saracen.—My lord!
Fol. Who’s that?
Sir B. One may see he has been scared: a pox on ’em for their labours!
Fol. Singlestone!
Sir B. Singlestone? I’ll ne’er answer to that, i’faith.
361Fol. Suchman!
Sir B. Suchman? nor that neither, i’faith; I am not brought so low, though I be old.
Fol. Who’s that i’ th’ chamber?
Sir B. Good morrow, my lord; ’tis I.
Fol. Sir Bounteous, good morrow; I would give you my hand, sir, but I cannot come at it. Is this the courtesy a’ th’ country, sir Bounteous?
Sir B. Your lordship grieves me more than all my loss;
’Tis the unnatural’st sight that can be found,
To see a noble gentleman hard bound.
Fol. Trust me, I thought you had been better beloved, sir Bounteous; but I see you have enemies, sir, and your friends fare the worse for ’em. I like your talk better than your lodging; I ne’er lay harder in a bed of down; I have had a mad night’s rest on’t. Can you not guess what they should be, sir Bounteous?
Sir B. Faith, Lincolnshire men, my lord.
Fol. How? fie, fie, believe it not, sir; these lie not far off, I warrant you.
Sir B. Think you so, my lord?
Fol. I’ll be burnt and[792] they do; some that use to your house, sir, and are familiar with all the conveyances.
Sir B. This is the commodity[793] of keeping open house, my lord; that makes so many shut their doors about dinner-time.
Fol. They were resolute villains: I made myself known to ’em, told ’em what I was, gave ’em my honourable word not to disclose ’em—
Sir B. O saucy, unmannerly villains!
Fol. And think you the slaves would trust me upon my word?
362Sir B. They would not?
Fol. Forsooth, no; I must pardon ’em: they told me lords’ promises were mortal, and commonly die within half an hour after they are spoken; they were but gristles, and not one amongst a hundred come to any full growth or perfection; and therefore, though I were a lord, I must enter into bond.
Sir B. Insupportable rascals!
Fol. Troth, I’m of that mind. Sir Bounteous, you fared the worse for my coming hither.
Sir B. Ah, good my lord, but I’m sure your lordship fared the worse!
Fol. Pray, pity not me, sir.
Sir B. Is not your honour sore about the brawn of the arm? a murrain meet ’em, I feel it!
Fol. About this place, sir Bounteous?
Sir B. You feel as it were a twinge, my lord?
Fol. Ay, e’en a twinge, you say right.
Sir B. A pox discover ’em, that twinge I feel too!
Fol. But that which disturbs me most, sir Bounteous, lies here.
Sir B. True; about the wrist, a kind of tumid numbness.
Fol. You say true, sir.
Sir B. The reason of that, my lord, is, the pulses had no play.
Fol. Mass, so I guessed it.
Sir B. A mischief swell ’em, for I feel that too!
Enter Mawworm.
Maw. ’Slid, here’s a house haunted indeed!
Sir B. A word with you, sir.
Fol. How now, Singlestone?
Maw. I’m sorry, my lord, your lordship has lost——
363Sir B. Pup, pup, pup, pup, pup!
Fol. What have I lost? speak.
Sir B. A good night’s sleep, say.
Fol. Speak, what have I lost, I say?
Maw. A good night’s sleep, my lord, nothing else.
Fol. That’s true; my clothes, come.
Maw. My lord’s clothes! his honour’s rising.
Enter[794] Hoboy and others with clothes: they retire to Follywit, behind the curtains, which are drawn.
Sir B. Hist, well said: come hither; what has my lord lost? tell me, speak softly.
Maw. His lordship must know that, sir.
Sir B. Hush! prithee tell me.
Maw. ’Twill do you no pleasure to know’t, sir.
Sir B. Yet again? I desire it, I say.
Maw. Since your worship will needs know’t, they have stolen away a jewel in a blue silk ribband of a hundred pound price, beside some hundred pounds in fair spur-royals.[795]
Sir B. That’s some two hundred i’ th’ total.
Maw. Your worship’s much about it, sir.
Sir B. Come, follow me; I’ll make that whole again in so much money; let not my lord know on’t.
Maw. O pardon me, sir Bounteous! that were a dishonour to my lord: should it come to his ear, I should hazard my undoing by it.
Sir B. How should it come to his ear? if you be my lord’s chief man about him, I hope you do not use to speak unless you be paid for’t; and I 364had rather give you a counsellor’s double fee to hold your peace. Come, go to; follow me, I say.
Maw. There will be scarce time to tell it, sir; my lord will away instantly.
Sir B. His honour shall stay dinner, by his leave; I’ll prevail with him so far: and now I remember a jest, I bade the whoreson thieves to dinner last night; I would I might have their companies; a pox poison ’em!
[Exit.