Every Man out of His Humour Act 3. Scene 3 lyrics

by

Ben Jonson


AN APARTMENT AT THE COURT

ENTER MACILENTE, FASTIDIOUS, BOTH IN A NEW SUIT, AND CINEDO, WITH TOBACCO.

Fast.
Well, now signior Macilente, you are not only welcome to the court,
but also to my mistress's withdrawing chamber — Boy, get me some tobacco.
I'll but go in, and shew I am here, and come to you presently, sir.

[EXIT.

Maci.
What's that he said? by heaven, I mark'd him not:
My thoughts and I were of another world.
I was admiring mine own outside here,
To think what privilege and palm it bears
Here, in the court! be a man ne'er so vile,
In wit, in judgment, manners, or what else;
If he can purchase but a silken cover,
He shall not only pass, but pass regarded:
Whereas, let him be poor, and meanly clad,
Though ne'er so richly parted, you shall have
A fellow that knows nothing but his beef,
Or how to rince his clammy guts in beer,
Will take him by the shoulders, or the throat,
And kick him down the stairs. Such is the state
Of virtue in bad clothes! — ha, ha, ha, ha!
That raiment should be in such high request!
How long should I be, ere I should put off
To the lord chancellor's tomb, or the shrives' poste?
By heav'n, I think, a thousand, thousand year.
His gravity, his wisdom, and his faith
To my dread sovereign, graces that survive him,
These I could well endure to reverence,
But not his tomb; no more than I'd commend
The chapel organ for the gilt without,
Or this base-viol, for the varnish'd face.

RE-ENTER FASTIDIOUS.

Fast.
I fear I have made you stay somewhat long, sir; but is my tobacco
ready, boy?

Cin.
Ay, sir.

Fast.
Give me; my mistress is upon coming, you shall see her presently,
sir. [PUFFS.] You'll say you never accosted a more piercing wit. — This tobacco is not dried, boy, or else the pipe is defective. — Oh, your wits of Italy are nothing comparable to her: her brain's a very quiver of jests, and she does dart them abroad with that sweet, loose, and judicial aim, that you would — here she comes, sir.
[SAVIOLINA LOOKS IN, AND DRAWS BACK AGAIN.

Maci.
'Twas time, his invention had been bogged else.

Sav. [WITHIN.]
Give me my fan there.

Maci.
How now, monsieur Brisk?

Fast.
A kind of affectionate reverence strikes me with a cold shivering,
methinks.

Maci.
I like such tempers well, as stand before their mistresses with fear
and trembling; and before their Maker, like impudent mountains!

Fast.
By this hand, I'd spend twenty pound my vaulting horse stood here
now, she might see do but one trick.

Maci.
Why, does she love activity?

Cin.
Or, if you had but your long stockings on, to be dancing a galliard
as she comes by.

Fast.
Ay, either. O, these stirring humours make ladies mad with desire;
she comes. My good genius embolden me: boy, the pipe quickly.

ENTER SAVIOLINA.

Maci.
What! will he give her music?

Fast.
A second good morrow to my fair mistress.

Sav.
Fair servant, I'll thank you a day hence, when the date of your
salutation comes forth.

Fast.
How like you that answer? is't not admirable?

Maci.
I were a simple courtier, if I could not admire trifles, sir.

Fast.
[TALKS AND TAKES TOBACCO BETWEEN THE BREAKS.] Troth, sweet lady, I shall [PUFFS] — be prepared to give you thanks for those thanks, and — study more officious, and obsequious regards — to your fair beauties. — Mend the pipe, boy.

Maci.
I never knew tobacco taken as a parenthesis before.

Fast.
'Fore God, sweet lady, believe it, I do honour the meanest rush in
this chamber for your love.

Sav.
Ay, you need not tell me that, sir; I do think you do prize a rush
before my love.

Maci.
Is this the wonder of nations!

Fast.
O, by this air, pardon me, I said 'for' your love, by this light:
but it is the accustomed sharpness of your ingenuity, sweet mistress, to
[TAKES DOWNTHE VIOL, AND PLAYS] — mass, your viol's new strung, methinks.

Maci.
Ingenuity! I see his ignorance will not suffer him to slander her,
which he had done notably, if he had said wit for ingenuity, as he meant it.

Fast.
By the soul of music, lady — HUM, HUM.

Sav.
Would we might hear it once.

Fast.
I do more adore and admire your — HUM, HUM — predominant
perfections, than — HUM, HUM — ever I shall have power and faculty to express — HUM.

Sav.
Upon the viol de gambo, you mean?

Fast.
It's miserably out of tune, by this hand.

Sav.
Nay, rather by the fingers.

Maci.
It makes good harmony with her wit.

Fast.
Sweet lady, tune it. [SAVIOLINA TUNES THE VIOL.] — Boy, some tobacco.

Maci.
Tobacco again! he does court his mistress with very exceeding good changes.

Fast.
Signior Macilente, you take none, sir?

Maci.
No, unless I had a mistress, signior, it were a great indecorum for
me to take tobacco.

Fast.
How like you her wit?
[TALKS AND TAKES TOBACCO BETWEEN AGAIN.

Maci.
Her ingenuity is excellent, sir.

Fast.
You see the subject of her sweet fingers there — Oh, she tickles it
so, that — She makes it laugh most divinely; — I'll tell you a good jest now, and yourself shall say it's a good one: I have wished myself to be that instrument, I think, a thousand times, and not so few, by heaven! —

Maci.
Not unlike, sir; but how? to be cased up and hung by on the wall?

Fast.
O, no, sir, to be in use, I assure you; as your judicious eyes may
testify. —

Sav.
Here, servant, if you will play, come.

Fast.
Instantly, sweet lady. — In good faith, here's most divine tobacco!

Sav.
Nay, I cannot stay to dance after your pipe.

Fast.
Good! Nay, dear lady, stay; by this sweet smoke, I think your wit
be all fire. —

Maci.
And he's the salamander belongs to it.

Sav.
Is your tobacco perfumed, servant, that you swear by the sweet smoke?

Fast.
Still more excellent! Before heaven, and these bright lights, I think — you are made of ingenuity, I —

Maci.
True, as your discourse is. O abominable!

Fast.
Will your ladyship take any?

Sav.
O peace, I pray you; I love not the breath of a woodc*ck's head.

Fast.
Meaning my head, lady?

Sav.
Not altogether so, sir; but, as it were fatal to their follies that
think to grace themselves with taking tobacco, when they want better entertainment, you see your pipe bears the true form of a woodc*ck's head.

Fast.
O admirable simile!

Av.
'Tis best leaving of you in admiration, sir.

[EXIT.

Maci.
Are these the admired lady-wits, that having so good a plain song,
can run no better division upon it? All her jests are of the stamp March was fifteen years ago. Is this the comet, monsieur Fastidious, that your gallants wonder at so?

Fast.
Heart of a gentleman, to neglect me afore the presence thus! Sweet sir, I beseech you be silent in my disgrace. By the muses, I was never in so vile a humour in my life, and her wit was at the flood too! Report it not for a million, good sir: let me be so far endeared to your love.

[EXEUNT.

Mit.
What follows next, signior Cordatus? this gallant's humour is almost spent; methinks it ebbs apace, with this contrary breath of his mistress.

Cor.
O, but it will flow again for all this, till there come a general
drought of humour among our actors, and then I fear not but his will fall as low as any. See who presents himself here!

Mit.
What, in the old case?

Cor.
Ay, faith, which makes it the more pitiful; you understand where the scene is?

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