to enter his chamber, while[86] he hath made barbers his beard to shave,
Not with knife or razor, for all edge-tools he fears,
But with hot burning nutshells they singe off his hairs.
Was there ever man that lived in such misery?
Well, I will go in—with a heavy and pensive heart, too,
To think how Pithias, this poor gentleman, to-morrow shall die.
[Exit.
Here entereth Jack and Will.
Jack. Well, by mine honesty, I will mar your monkey’s[87] face, if you so fondly prate.
Will. Jack, by my troth, seeing you are without the court-gate,
If you play Jack-napes, in mocking my master and despising my face,
Even here with a pantable[88] I will you disgrace;
And though you have a far better face than I,
Yet who is better man of us two these fists shall try,
Unless you leave your taunting.
Jack. Thou began’st first; didst thou now not say even now,
That Carisophus my master was no man but a cow,
In taking so many blows, and gave[89] never a blow again?
Will. I said so indeed, he is but a tame ruffian,
That can swear by his flask and twich-box,[90] and God’s precious lady,
And yet will be beaten with a faggot-stick.
These barking whelps were never good biters,
Ne yet great crakers were ever great fighters:
But seeing you egg me so much, I will somewhat more recite;
I say, Carisophus thy master is a flatt’ring parasite;
Gleaning away the sweet from the worthy in all the court.
What tragedy hath he moved of late? the devil take him! he doth much hurt.
Jack. I pray you, what is Aristippus thy master, is not he a parasite too,
That with scoffing and jesting in the court makes so much a-do?
Will. He is no parasite, but a pleasant gentleman full of courtesy.
Thy master is a churlish lout, the heir of a dung-fork; as void of honesty
As thou art of honour.
Jack. Nay, if you will needs be prating of my master still,
In faith I must cool you, my friend, dapper Will:
Take this at the beginning.
[Strikes him.
Will. Praise well your winning, my pantable is as ready as yours.
Jack. By the mass, I will box you.
Will. By Cock, I will fox you.
Jack. Will, was I with you?
Will. Jack, did I fly?
Jack. Alas, pretty cockerel, you are too weak;
Will. In faith, doating dottrel,[91] you will cry creak.
Here entereth Snap.
Snap. Away, you crack-ropes, are you fighting at the court-gate?
And I take you here again, I will swinge you both: what!
[Exit.
Jack. I beshrew Snap the tipstaff, that great knave’s heart, that hither did come,
Had he not been, you had cried ere this, Victus, victa, victum:
But seeing we have breathed ourselves, if ye list,
Let us agree like friends, and shake each other by the fist.
Will. Content am I, for I am not malicious; but on this condition,
That you talk no more so broad of my master as here you have done.
But who have we here? ’tis Coals I spy[92] coming yonder.
Jack. Will, let us slip aside and view him well.
Here entereth Grim the Collier, whistling.
Grim. What devil! ich ween the porters are drunk, will they not dup[93] the gate to-day?
[To] take in coals for the king’s own mouth;[94] will nobody stir, I say?
Ich might have lain tway hours longer in my bed,
Cha tarried so long here, that my teeth chatter in my head.
Jack. Will, after our falling out wilt thou laugh merrily?
Will. Ay, marry, Jack, I pray thee heartily.
Jack. Then follow me, and hem in a word now and then—
What brawling knave is there at the court-gate so early?
Will. It is some brainsick villain, I durst lay a penny.
Jack. Was it you,[95] sir, that cried so loud, I trow,
And bid us take in coals for the king’s mouth even now?
Grim. ’Twas I, indeed.
Jack. Why, sir, how dare you speak such petty treason?
Doth the king eat coals at any season?
Grim. Here is a gay world! boys now sets old men to school.
I said well enough: what, Jack-sauce, think’st cham a fool?
At bakehouse, butt’ry-hatch, kitchen, and cellar,
Do[96] they not say for the king’s mouth?
Will. What, then, goodman collier?
Grim. What, then! seeing without coals thee cannot finely dress the king’s meat,
May I not say, take in coals for the king’s mouth, though coals he do not eat?
Jack. James Christe! came ever from a collier an answer so trim?
You are learned, are you not, father Grim?
Grim. Grim is my name indeed, cham not learned, and yet the king’s
