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fit modesty in a fervant, but good state and discretion in a master. And you have been with Cutberd the barber, to have him come to me ? ) good. And he will come presently? answer me not but with your leg, unless it be otherwise: If it be otherwise, shake your head, or shrug. ) So. Your Italian, and Spaniard, are wise in these ! and it is a frugal and comely gravity. How long will it be ere Cutberd come? stay ! if an hour, hold up your whole hand; if half an hour, two fingers ; if a quarter, one ; (-) a curled finger! half a quarter. 'Tis well. And have you given him a key, to come in without knocking ? () good. And is the lock oiled, and the hinges, to-day? (-) good. And the quilting of the stairs no where worn out and bare? () very good. I fee, by much doctrine, it may be effected; stand by. The Turk, in his divine discipline, is admirable, exceeding all the potentates of the earth ; still waited on by mutes; and all his commands so executed; yea, even in the war (as I have heard) and in his marches, most of his charges and directions given by signs, and with silence: an exquisite art! and I am heartily ashamed, and angry oftentimes, that the princes of Christendom, should suffer a Barbarian to tranfcend 'em in fo high á point
of felicity. I will practise it hereafter. [Horn without.] How now? oh! oh! what villain, what prodigy of mankind is that? look. [Exit Mute.] Oh! cut his throat, cut his throat ! What murderer, hell-hound, devil, can this be?
[One winds a horn without again.
Re-enter Mute. Mute. A post from the court
Mor. Out, rogue, and must thou blow thy horn, too?
Mute. Alas, it is a post from the court, Sir, that fays, he must speak with you on pain of death
Mor. Pain of thy life, be silent? [Horn again,
Then enter Truewit. Tru. By your leave, Sir! I am a stranger here:
your master Morose ? Is your name master Morose? Fishes? Pythagoreans all? This is strange. What say you, Sir? nothing ? Has Harpocrates been here with his club, among you? Well, Sir, I will believe you to be the man at this time: I will venture upon you, Sir. Your friends at court commend 'em to you, Sir
Mor. O men! O manners! Was there ever such an impudence?
Tru. And are extremely solicitous for you, Sir,
[Mute going. Tru.' You shaii taite the one half of my dagger, if you do, groom ; and you the other, if you stir, Sir: Be patient, I charge you, in the king's name, and hear me without insurrection. They say, you are to marry; to marry! do you mark, Sir?
Mr. How then, rude companion ?
Tru. Marry, your friends do wonder, Sir, the Thames being fo near, wherein you may drown
so handsomely, or London-Bridge, at a low fall, with a fine leap to hurry you down the stream! or such a delicate steeple in the town as Bow, to vault from ; or a braver height, as Paul's; or, if you affected to do it nearer home, and a shorter way, an excellent garret-window into the street; or, a beam in the said garret, with this halter, [He fhews him a halter.] which they have sent, and desire that you would sooner commit your grave head to this knot, than to the wedlock noore; or take a little fublimate, and go out of the world, like a rat: Any way, rather than to follow Eis goblin Matrimony, Alas, Sir, do you ever think to find a chaste wife, in these times? now? when there are so many
masques, plays, fanatical preachers, mad folks, and other strange fights to be seen, daily private and publick ? If you had liv’d in king Ethelred's time, Sir, or Edward the Confeffor's, you might, perhaps, have found in some cold country hamlet, then, a dull frosty wench, would have been contented with one man: Now, they will as soon be pleas'd with one leg, or one eye. I'll tell you, Sir, the monstrous hazards
shall run with a wire, Mor. Good Sir, have I ever cozen'd any friends of yours of their land ? bought their possessions ? taken forfeit of their mortgage? begg'd a reversion from 'em ? what have I done that may deserve this?
Tru. Nothing, Sir, that I know, but your itch of marriage.
Mor. Why, if I had assassinated your father, vitiated your mother, ravish'd your sisters ,
Tru. I would kill you, Sir, I would kill you, if
Mor. Why, you do more in this, Sir.
Tru. Alas, Sir, I am but a messenger: I but tell you, what you must hear. It seems, your friends are careful after your soul's health, Sir, and would have you know the danger; if, after you are married, your wife do run away with a vaulter, or the
Frenchman that walks upon ropes, why, it is not their fault; they have discharged their consciences, when
know what may happen.
Tru. Nay, suffer valiantly, Sir, for I must tell you all the perils that you are obnoxious to. If she be fair, and young, no sweatmeats ever drew more flies. If foul and crooked, she'll be with them. If rich, and that you marry her dowry, not her, she'll reign in your house, as imperious as a widow. If noble, all her kindred will be your tyrants. If fruitful, as proud as May and humourous as April. If learned, there was never such a parrot. You begin to sweat, Sir, but this is not half, i'faith. Upon my faith, master serving-man, if you do ftir, I will beat you.
Mor. Oh, what is my fin? what is my fin?
Tru. Then, if you love your wife, or rather dote on her, Sir; oh, how she'll torture you! and take pleasure i' your torments! You must keep what servants the please; what company she will; that friend must not visit you without her licence; and him she loves most, she will seem to hate moft, to decline your jealousy; or, feign to be jealous of you first; and for that cause go live with her shefriend, that can instruct her in all the mysteries of