A HALL IN SIR POLITICK'S HOUSE.
ENTER PEREGRINE DISGUISED, AND THREE MERCHANTS.
PER
Am I enough disguised?
1 MER
I warrant you.
PER
All my ambition is to fright him only.
2 MER
If you could ship him away, 'twere excellent.
3 MER
To Zant, or to Aleppo?
PER
Yes, and have his
Adventures put i' the Book of Voyages.
And his gull'd story register'd for truth.
Well, gentlemen, when I am in a while,
And that you think us warm in our discourse,
Know your approaches.
1 MER
Trust it to our care.
[EXEUNT MERCHANTS.]
[ENTER WAITING-WOMAN.]
PER
Save you, fair lady! Is sir Pol within?
WOM
PER: Pray you say unto him,
Here is a merchant, upon earnest business,
Desires to speak with him.
WOM
I will see, sir.
[EXIT.]
PER
Pray you.—
I see the family is all female here.
[RE-ENTER WAITING-WOMAN.]
WOM
He says, sir, he has weighty affairs of state,
That now require him whole; some other time
You may possess him.
PER
Pray you say again,
If those require him whole, these will exact him,
Whereof I bring him tidings.
[EXIT WOMAN.]
—What might be
His grave affair of state now! how to make
Bolognian sausages here in Venice, sparing
One o' the ingredients?
[RE-ENTER WAITING-WOMAN.]
WOM
Sir, he says, he knows
By your word "tidings," that you are no statesman,
And therefore wills you stay.
PER
Sweet, pray you return him;
I have not read so many proclamations,
And studied them for words, as he has done—
But—here he deigns to come.
[EXIT WOMAN.]
[ENTER SIR POLITICK.]
SIR P
Sir, I must crave
Your courteous pardon. There hath chanced to-day,
Unkind disaster 'twixt my lady and me;
And I was penning my apology,
To give her satisfaction, as you came now.
PER
Sir, I am grieved I bring you worse disaster:
The gentleman you met at the port to-day,
That told you, he was newly arrived—
SIR P
Ay, was
A fugitive punk?
PER
No, sir, a spy set on you;
And he has made relation to the senate,
That you profest to him to have a plot
To sell the State of Venice to the Turk.
SIR P
O me!
PER
For which, warrants are sign'd by this time,
To apprehend you, and to search your study
For papers—
SIR P
Alas, sir, I have none, but notes
Drawn out of play-books—
PER
All the better, sir.
SIR P
And some essays. What shall I do?
PER
Sir, best
Convey yourself into a sugar-chest;
Or, if you could lie round, a frail were rare:
And I could send you aboard.
SIR P
Sir, I but talk'd so,
For discourse sake merely.
[KNOCKING WITHIN.]
PER
Hark! they are there.
SIR P
I am a wretch, a wretch!
PER
What will you do, sir?
Have you ne'er a currant-butt to leap into?
They'll put you to the rack, you must be sudden.
SIR P
Sir, I have an ingine—
3 MER [WITHIN.]: Sir Politick Would-be?
2 MER [WITHIN.]: Where is he?
SIR P
That I have thought upon before time.
PER
What is it?
SIR P
I shall ne'er endure the torture.
Marry, it is, sir, of a tortoise-shell,
Fitted for these extremities: pray you, sir, help me.
Here I've a place, sir, to put back my legs,
Please you to lay it on, sir,
[LIES DOWN WHILE PEREGRINE PLACES THE SHELL UPON HIM.]
—with this cap,
And my black gloves. I'll lie, sir, like a tortoise,
'Till they are gone.
PER
And call you this an ingine?
SIR P
Mine own device—Good sir, bid my wife's women
To burn my papers.
[EXIT PEREGRINE.]
[THE THREE MERCHANTS RUSH IN.]
1 MER
Where is he hid?
3 MER
We must,
And will sure find him.
2 MER
Which is his study?
[RE-ENTER PEREGRINE.]
1 MER
What
Are you, sir?
PER
I am a merchant, that came here
To look upon this tortoise.
3 MER
How!
1 MER
St. Mark!
What beast is this!
PER
It is a fish.
2 MER
Come out here!
PER
Nay, you may strike him, sir, and tread upon him;
He'll bear a cart.
1 MER
What, to run over him?
PER
Yes, sir.
3 MER
Let's jump upon him.
2 MER
Can he not go?
PER
He creeps, sir.
1 MER
Let's see him creep.
PER
No, good sir, you will hurt him.
2 MER
Heart, I will see him creep, or prick his guts.
3 MER
Come out here!
PER
Pray you, sir!
[ASIDE TO SIR POLITICK.]
—Creep a little.
1 MER
Forth.
2 MER
Yet farther.
PER
Good sir!—Creep.
2 MER
We'll see his legs.
[THEY PULL OFF THE SHELL AND DISCOVER HIM.]
3 MER
Ods so, he has garters!
1 MER
Ay, and gloves!
2 MER
Is this
Your fearful tortoise?
PER
[DISCOVERING HIMSELF.]: Now, sir Pol, we are even;
For your next project I shall be prepared:
I am sorry for the funeral of your notes, sir.
1 MER
'Twere a rare motion to be seen in Fleet-street.
2 MER
Ay, in the Term.
1 MER
Or Smithfield, in the fair.
3 MER
Methinks 'tis but a melancholy sight.
PER
Farewell, most politic tortoise!
[EXEUNT PER. AND MERCHANTS.]
[RE-ENTER WAITING-WOMAN.]
SIR P
Where's my lady?
Knows she of this?
WOM
I know not, sir.
SIR P
Enquire.—
O, I shall be the fable of all feasts,
The freight of the gazetti; ship-boy's tale;
And, which is worst, even talk for ordinaries.
WOM
My lady's come most melancholy home,
And says, sir, she will straight to sea, for physic.
SIR P
And I to shun this place and clime for ever;
Creeping with house on back: and think it well,
To shrink my poor head in my politic shell.
[EXEUNT.]