EVERY MAN IN HIS HUMOUR.

DRAMATIS PERSONEÆ.

Kitely, a Merchant, Mr Gar- | Justice Clement, an old merrick. ry Magistrate, Mr Tas vell. Captain Bobadil, Mr Wood-Roger Formal, his Clerk, Mr

ward.

Kno'well, an old Gentleman,

Mr Berry.

Castollo.

Dame Kively, Mrs Davies,

Ed. Kno'well, his Son, Mr Mrs Bridget, Sister to Kite

Ross.
Brain-worm, the Father's

Man, Mr Yares.
Mr Steven, a Country Gull,
Mr Vernon.
Downright, a plain Squire,
Mr Bransby.
Well-bred, his half-Brother,
Mr Palmer.

SCENE,

ly, Miss Minors.
Mr Matthew, the Town
Gull, Mr Vaughan.
Cash, Kitely's Man, Mr
Blakes.

Cob, a Water-bearer, Mr
Mozeen.

Tib, his Wife, Mrs Cross.

LONDON.

A

SCENE, A Court-yard before Kno'well's House.

Enter KNO'WELL and BRAIN-WORM.

KNO'WELL.

GOODLY day toward! and a fresh morning! Brain

worm,

Call up your young master: bid him rise, Sir.

Tell him I have some business to employ him.

Brain. I will, Sir, presently. Kno. But hear you, sirrah, If he be at his book disturb him not,

Bra. Well, Sir.

[Exit.

Kno.

Kno. How happy yet, should I esteem myself,
Cou'd I (by any practice) wean the boy
From one vain course of study he affects.
He is a scholar, if a man may trust
The liberal voice of fame in her report,
Of good account, in both our Universities;
Either of which hath favoured him with graces:
But their indulgence must no spring in me
A fond opinion, that he cannot err.
Myself was once a student; and, indeed,
Fed with the self-same humour, he is now,
Dreaming on nought but idle poetry,

That fruitless, and unprofitable art,

Good unto none, but least to the professors,

Which, then, I thought the mistress of all knowledge:
But since, time and the truth have wak'd my judgment,
And reason taught me better to distinguish

The vain from th' useful learnings.

Cousin Stephen!

Enter Master STEPHEN.

What news with you, 'that you are here so early?

Step. Nothing, but e'en come to see how you do, uncle. Kno. That's kindly done; you are welcome, coz. Step. Ay, I know that, Sir; I would not ha' come else. How doth my cousin Edward, uncle ?

Kno. O, well, ccz; go in and see: I doubt he be scarce stirring yet.

Step. Uncle, afore I go in, can you tell me' an' he have e'er a book of the sciences of hawking and hunting? E wou'd fain borrow it.

Kno. Why, I hope you will not a hawking now; will you?

Step. No wusse, but I'll practise against the next year, uncle; I have bought me a hawk, and a hood, and bells, and all; I lack nothing but a book to keep it by.

Kno. O, most ridiculous.

Step. Nay, look you now, you are angry, uncle: why, you know; an' a man have not skill in the hawking and hunting languages now-a-days, I'll not give a rush for him. They are more studied than the Greek, or Latin. He is for no gallant's company without 'em. And by gad's-lid I scorn it; I, so I do, to be a consort for every bum-drum ;

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hang

hang 'em scroyls, there's nothing in 'em, i' the world. What do you talk on it? because I dwell at Hogsden, I shall keep company with none but the archers of Finsbury? or the citizens that come a ducking to Issington ponds? A fine jest i' faith; slid, a gentleman mun shew himself like a gentleman. Uncle, I pray you be not angry, I know what I have to do, I trow, I am no novice.

Kno. You are a prodigal absurd coxcomb: go to. Nay, never look at me, it's I that speak. Take't as you will, Sir, I'll not flatter you. Ha' you not yet found means enow, to waste That, which your friends have left you, but you must Go cast away your money one a kite,

And know not how to keep it, when you've done?
O it's comely! this will make you a gentleman!
Well, cousin, well! I see you are e'en past hope
Of all reclaim. Ay, so, now you're told on it,
You look another wav. Step. What would you ha' me do?
Kno. What would I have you do? I'll tell you, kinsman ;
Learn to be wise, and practise how to thrive,
That would I have thee do: and not to spend
Your coin on every bawble; that you fancy,
Or every foolish brain, that humours you.
I would not have you to invade each place,
Nor thrust yourself on a'l societies,
Till mens affections, or your own desert,
Should worthily invite you to your rank.
He that is so respectless in his courses,
Oft sells his reputation at cheap market.
Nor would I, you should melt away yourself
In flashing bravery, lest while you affect
To make a blaze of gentry to the world,
A little puff of scorn extiguish it,
Aud уси be left, like an unsavoury snuff,
Whose property is only to offend.
I'd ha' you sober and contain yourself;
Not, that your sail be bigger than your boat:
But mod rate your expences now (at first)
As you may keep the same proportion still,
Nor, stand so much on your gentility.
Which is an aery, and mere borrow'd thing,

From dead men's dust, and bones: and none of yours
Except you make, or hold it. Who comes here?

Enter

Enter a SERVANT.

Serv. Save you, gentleman.

Step. Nay, we do not stand much on our gentility.friend; yet, you are welcome; and I assure you, mine uncle here. is a man of a thousand a year, Middlesex land: he has but one son in all the world, I am his next heir (at the common law) master Stephen, as simple as I stand here; if my cousin die (as there's hope he will) I have a pretty living o' my own too, beside, hard by here.

Serv. In good time, Sir.

Step. In good time, Sir? Why? and in very good time, Sir. You do not flout, friend, do you?

Serv. Not I, Sir.

Step. Not you, Sir; you were not best, Sir; an' you should, here be them can perceive it, and that quickly too: go to. And they can give it again soundly too, an' need

be..

Serv. Why, Sir, let this satisfy you: good faith, I had

no such intent,

Step. Sir, an' I thought you had, I would talk with you, and that presently.

Serv. Good master Stephen, so you may, Sir, at your pleasure.

Step. And so I would, Sir, good my saucy companion! an' you were out o' my uncle's ground, I can tell you; tho' I do not stand upon my gentility neither in't..

Kno. Cousin! cousin! will this ne'er be left?

Step. Whorson base fellow? a mechanical serving man!
By this cudgel, and 'twere not for shame, I would-
Kno. What wou'd you do, you peremptory gull? -
If you cannot be quiet, get you hence.

You see, the honest man demeans himself
Modestly t'wards you, giving no reply

To your unseason'd, quarreling, rude fashion:
And still you huff it, with a kind of carriage,
As void of wit, as of humanity.

Go, get you in; 'fore heaven, I am asham'd
Thou hast a kinsman's interest in me.

[Exit Stephen.

Serv. I pray you, Sir, is this master Kno'well's house? Kno. Yes, marry, is it, Sir. Serv. I shou'd enquire for a gentleman here, one master Edward Kno'well; do you know any such, Sir, I pray you?

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Кно

Kno. I should forget myself else, sir.

Serv. Are you the gentleman? cry you mercy, sir: I was requir'd by a gentleman i' th' city, as I rode out at this end of the town, to deliver you this letter, sir..

Kno. To me, sir! [To bis most selected friend, master Edward Kno'well.] What might the gentleman's name be, sir, that sent it?

Serv. One master Well-bred, sir.

Kno. Master Well-bred! A young gentleman? is he not?

Serv. The same, sir; master Kitely married his sister; the rich merchant i̇' the Old Jewry.

in.

Kno. You say very true. Brain-worm!

Brain Sir.

Enter BRAIN-WORM.

Kno. Make this honest friend drink here: pray you go [Exeunt Brain-worm and servant.

This letter is directed to my son:

Yet I am Edward Kno'well too, and may,
With the sate conscience of good-manners, use
The fellow's error to my satisfaction.

Well, I will break it ope (old men are curious)
Be it for the stile's sake, and the phrase,

To see, if both do answer my son's praises,
Who is, almost, grown the idolater

Of this young Well-bred: what have we here? what's this?

[The Letter.]

Why, Ned, I beseech thee, bast thou forsworn all thy friends i' th' Old Jewry? or dost thou think us all Jews that inhabit there? Leave thy vigilant father alone, to number over bis green apricots, evening and morning, o' the north-west wall: an' I had been his son, I had sav'd him the labour tong since; f, taking in all the young wenches that pass by, at the back-door, and coddling every kernel of the fruit for 'em would ha' served. But prithee, come over to me, quickly, this morning: I have such a present for thee (our Turkey company never sent the like to the Grand Signior.) One is a rbimer, Sir, o' your own batch, your own leren; but doth think himself poet-major o' the town; willing to be shewn, and worthy to be seen. The other-I