Read THE CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY - ACT III of Beaumont & Fletcher's Works - The Custom of the Country, free online book, by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, on ReadCentral.com.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Leopold, and Zenocia.

Leo. Fling off these sullen clouds, you are enter’d now
Into a house of joy and happiness,
I have prepar’d a blessing for ye.

Zen. Thank ye, my state would rather ask a curse.

Leo. You are peevish
And know not when ye are friended, I have us’d those means,
The Lady of this house, the noble Lady,
Will take ye as her own, and use ye graciously:
Make much of what you are, Mistris of that beautie,
And expose it not to such betraying sorrows,
When ye are old, and all those sweets hang wither’d,

Enter Servant.

Then sit and sigh.

Zen. My Autumn is not far off.

Leo. Have you told your Lady?

Ser. Yes Sir, I have told her Both of your noble service, and your present, Which she accepts.

Leo. I should be blest to see her.

Ser. That now you cannot doe: she keeps the Chamber
Not well dispos’d; and has denied all visits,
The maid I have in charge to receive from ye,
So please you render her.

Leo. With all my service, But fain I would have seen.

Ser. ’Tis but your patience; No doubt she cannot but remember nobly.

Leo. These three years I have lov’d this scornfull Lady,
And follow’d her with all the truth of service,
In all which time, but twice she has honour’d me
With sight of her blest beauty: when you please Sir,
You may receive your charge, and tell your Lady;
A Gentleman whose life is only dedicated
To her commands, kisses her beauteous hands;
And Faire-one, now your help, you may remember
The honest courtesies, since you are mine,
I ever did your modestie: you shall be near her,
And if sometimes you name my service to her,
And tell her with what nobleness I love her,
’Twill be a gratitude I shall remember.

Zen. What in my poor power lyes, so it be honest.

Leo. I ask no more.

Ser. You must along with me (Fair.)

Leo. And so I leave you two: but a fortune Too happy for my fate: you shall enjoy her.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Zabulon and Servants.

Zab. Be quick, be quick, out with the banquet there, These scents are dull; cast richer on, and fuller; Scent every place, where have you plac’d the musick?

Ser. Here they stand ready Sir.

Zab. ’Tis well, be sure The wines be lusty, high, and full of Spirit, And Amber’d all.

Ser. They are.

Zab. Give fair attendance. In the best trim, and state, make ready all. I shall come presently again. [Banquet set forth. Exit.

2 Ser. We shall Sir,
What preparation’s this?
Some new device
My Lady has in hand.

1 Ser. O, prosper it As long as it carries good wine in the mouth, And good meat with it, where are all the rest?

2 Ser. They are ready to attend. [Musick.

1 Ser. Sure some great person, They would not make this hurry else.

2 Ser. Hark the Musick.

Enter Zabulon, and Arnoldo.

It will appear now certain, here it comes.
Now to our places.

Arn. Whither will he lead me?
What invitation’s this? to what new end
Are these fair preparations? a rich Banquet,
Musick, and every place stuck with adornment,
Fit for a Princes welcome; what new game
Has Fortune now prepar’d to shew me happy?
And then again to sink me? ’tis no illusion,
Mine eyes are not deceiv’d, all these are reall;
What wealth and state!

Zab. Will you sit down and eat Sir? These carry little wonder, they are usual; But you shall see, if you be wise to observe it, That that will strike dead, strike with amazement, Then if you be a man: this fair health to you.

Ar. What shall I see? I pledge ye Sir, I was never So buried in amazement-

Zab. You are so still: Drink freely.

Ar. The very wines are admirable: Good Sir, give me leave to ask this question, For what great worthy man are these prepar’d? And why do you bring me hither?

Zab. They are for you, Sir; And under-value not the worth you carry, You are that worthy man: think well of these, They shall be more, and greater.

Ar. Well, blind fortune Thou hast the prettiest changes when thou art pleas’d, To play thy game out wantonly-

Zab. Come be lusty, And awake your Spirits. [Cease Musick.

Ar. Good Sir, do not wake me. For willingly I would dye in this dream, pray whose Servants Are all these that attend here?

Zab. They are yours; They wait on you.

Ar. I never yet remember I kept such faces, nor that I was ever able To maintain so many.

Zab. Now you are, and shall be.

Ar. You’l say this house is mine too?

Zab. Say it? swear it.

Ar. And all this wealth?

Zab. This is the least you see Sir.

Ar. Why, where has this been hid these thirtie years? For certainly I never found I was wealthie Till this hour, never dream’d of house, and Servants. I had thought I had been a younger Brother, a poor Gent. I may eat boldly then.

Zab. ’Tis prepar’d for ye.

Ar. The taste is perfect, and most delicate:
But why for me? give me some wine, I do drink;
I feel it sensibly, and I am here,
Here in this glorious place: I am bravely us’d too,
Good Gentle Sir, give me leave to think a little,
For either I am much abus’d-

Zab. Strike Musick And sing that lusty Song. [Musick. Song.

Ar. Bewitching harmony! Sure I am turn’d into another Creature.

Enter Hippolyta.

Happy and blest, Arnoldo was unfortunate;
Ha! bless mine eyes; what pretious piece of nature
To pose the world?

Zab. I told you, you would see that Would darken these poor preparations; What think ye now? nay rise not, ’tis no vision.

Ar. ’Tis more: ’tis miracle.

Hip. You are welcom Sir.

Ar. It speaks, and entertains me still more glorious; She is warm, and this is flesh here: how she stirs me! Bless me what stars are there?

Hip. May I sit near ye?

Ar. No, you are too pure an object to behold, Too excellent to look upon, and live; I must remove.

Zab. She is a woman Sir, Fy, what faint heart is this?

Arn. The house of wonder.

Zab. Do not you think your self now truly happy?
You have the abstract of all sweetness by ye,
The precious wealth youth labours to arrive at;
Nor is she less in honour, than in beauty,
Ferrara’s Royal Duke is proud to call her
His best, his Noblest, and most happy Sister,
Fortune has made her Mistress of herself,
Wealthy, and wise, without a power to sway her,
Wonder of Italy, of all hearts Mistress.

Arn. And all this is-

Zab. Hippolyta the beauteous.

Hip. You are a poor relator of my fortunes,
Too weak a Chronicle to speak my blessings,
And leave out that essential part of story
I am most high and happy in, most fortunate,
The acquaintance, and the noble fellowship
Of this fair Gentleman: pray ye do not wonder,
Nor hold it strange to hear a handsome Lady
Speak freely to ye: with your fair leave and courtesie
I will sit by ye.

Arn. I know not what to answer, Nor where I am, nor to what end consider; Why do you use me thus?

Hip. Are ye angry Sir, Because ye are entertain’d with all humanity? Freely and nobly us’d?

Arn. No gentle Lady,
That were uncivil, but it much amazes me
A stranger, and a man of no desert
Should find such floods of courtesie.

Hip. I love ye,
I honour ye, the first and best of all men,
And where that fair opinion leads, ’tis usual
These trifles that but serve to set off, follow.
I would not have you proud now, nor disdainful
Because I say I love ye, though I swear it,
Nor think it a stale favour I fling on ye,
Though ye be handsome, and the only man
I must confess I ever fixt mine eye on,
And bring along all promises that please us,
Yet I should hate ye then, despise ye, scorn ye,
And with as much contempt pursue your person,
As now I do with love. But you are wiser,
At least I think, more master of your fortune,
And so I drink your health.

Arn. Hold fast good honesty, I am a lost man else.

Hip. Now you may kiss me, ’Tis the first kiss, I ever askt, I swear to ye.

Arn. That I dare do sweet Lady.

Hip. You do it well too; You are a Master Sir, that makes you coy.

Arn. Would you would send your people off.

Hip. Well thought on. Wait all without. [Exit Zab. and Servants.

Zab. I hope she is pleas’d throughly.

Hip. Why stand ye still? here’s no man to detect ye, My people are gone off: come, come, leave conjuring, The Spirit you would raise, is here already, Look boldly on me.

Arn. What would you have me do?

Hip. O most unmanly question! have you do? Is’t possible your years should want a Tutor? I’le teach ye: come, embrace me.

Arn. Fye stand off;
And give me leave, more now than e’re, to wonder,
A building of so goodly a proportion,
Outwardly all exact, the frame of Heaven,
Should hide within so base inhabitants?
You are as fair, as if the morning bare ye,
Imagination never made a sweeter;
Can it be possible this frame should suffer,
And built on slight affections, fright the viewer?
Be excellent in all, as you are outward,
The worthy Mistress of those many blessings
Heaven has bestowed, make ’em appear still nobler,
Because they are trusted to a weaker keeper.
Would ye have me love ye?

Hip. Yes.

Arn. Not for your beauty;
Though I confess, it blowes the first fire in us,
Time as he passes by, puts out that sparkle;
Nor for your wealth, although the world kneel to it,
And make it all addition to a woman,
Fortune that ruines all, makes that his conquest;
Be honest, and be vertuous, I’le admire ye,
At least be wise, and where ye lay these nets,
Strow over ’em a little modesty,
’Twill well become your cause, and catch more Fools.

Hip. Could any one that lov’d this wholesome counsel
But love the giver more? you make me fonder:
You have a vertuous mind, I want that ornament;
Is it a sin I covet to enjoy ye?
If ye imagine I am too free a Lover,
And act that part belongs to you, I am silent:
Mine eyes shall speak my blushes, parly with ye;
I will not touch your hand, but with a tremble
Fitting a Vestal Nun; not long to kiss ye,
But gently as the Air, and undiscern’d too,
I’le steal it thus: I’le walk your shadow by ye,
So still and silent that it shall be equal,
To put me off, as that, and when I covet,
To give such toyes as these-

Arn. A new temptation-

Hip. Thus like the lazie minutes will I drop ’em, Which past once are forgotten.

Arn. Excellent vice!

Hip. Will ye be won? look stedfastly upon me,
Look manly, take a mans affections to you;
Young women, in the old world were not wont, Sir,
To hang out gaudy bushes for their beauties,
To talk themselves into young mens affections;
How cold and dull you are!

Arn. How I stagger! She is wise, as fair; but ’tis a wicked wisdom; I’le choak before I yield.

Hip. Who waits within there? [Zabulon within. Make ready the green Chamber.

Zab. It shall be Madam.

Arn. I am afraid she will injoy me indeed.

Hip. What Musick do ye love?

Arn. A modest tongue.

Hip. We’l have enough of that: fye, fye, how lumpish! In a young Ladyes arms thus dull?

Arn. For Heaven sake Profess a little goodness.

Hip. Of what Country?

Arn. I am of Rome.

Hip. Nay then I know you mock me, The Italians are not frighted with such bug-bears, Prethee go in.

Arn. I am not well.

Hip. I’le make thee, I’le kiss thee well.

Arn. I am not sick of that sore.

Hip. Upon my Conscience, I must ravish thee, I shall be famous for the first example: With this I’le tye ye first, then try your strength Sir.

Arn. My strength? away base woman, I abhor thee. I am not caught with stales, disease dwell with thee. [Exit.

Hip. Are ye so quick? and have I lost my wishes? Hoe, Zabulon; my servants.

Enter Zabulon and Servants.

Zab. Call’d ye Madam?

Hip. Is all that beauty scorned, so many su’d for; So many Princes? by a stranger too? Must I endure this?

Zab. Where’s the Gentleman?

Hip. Go presently, pursue the stranger, Zabulon.
He has broke from me, Jewels I have given him:
Charge him with theft: he has stoln my love, my freedome,
Draw him before the Governour, imprison him,
Why dost thou stay?

Zab. I’le teach him a new dance,
For playing fast and loose with such a Lady.
Come fellows, come: I’le execute your anger,
And to the full.

Hip. His scorn shall feel my vengeance.- [Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Sulpicia and Jaques.

Sul. Shall I never see a lusty man again?

Ja. Faith Mistress You do so over-labour ’em when you have ’em, And so dry-founder ’em, they cannot last.

Sul. Where’s the French-man?

Ja. Alas, he’s all to fitters, and lyes, taking the height of his fortune with a Syringe. He’s chin’d, he’s chin’d good man, he is a mourner.

Sul. What’s become of the Dane?

Ja. Who? goldy-locks? He’s foul i’th’ touch-hole; and recoils again, The main Spring’s weaken’d that holds up his cock, He lies at the sign of the Sun, to be new breech’d.

Sul. The Rutter too, is gone.

Ja. O that was a brave Rascal, He would labour like a Thrasher: but alas What thing can ever last? he has been ill mew’d, And drawn too soon; I have seen him in the Hospital.

Sul. There was an English-man.

Ja. I there was an English-man; You’l scant find any now, to make that name good: There were those English that were men indeed, And would perform like men, but now they are vanisht: They are so taken up in their own Country, And so beaten of their speed by their own women, When they come here, they draw their legs like Hackneys: Drink, and their own devices have undone ’em.

Sul. I must have one that’s strong, no life in Lisbon else,
Perfect and young: my Custom with young Ladies,
And high fed City dames, will fall, and break else.
I want my self too, in mine age to nourish me:
They are all sunk I mantain’d: now what’s this business,
What goodly fellow’s that?

Enter Rutilio and Officers.

Rut. Why do you drag me? Pox o’ your justice; let me loose.

1 Offi. Not so Sir.

Rut. Cannot a man fall into one of your drunken Cellars, And venture the breaking on’s neck, your trap-doors open, But he must be us’d thus rascally?

1 Offi. What made you wandring So late i’th’ night? you know that is imprisonment.

Rut. May be I walk in my sleep.

2 Offi. May be we’l walk ye. What made you wandring Sir, into that vault Where all the City store, and the Munition lay?

Rut. I fell into it by chance, I broke my shins for’t: Your worships feel not that: I knockt my head Against a hundred posts, would you had had it. Cannot I break my neck in my own defence?

2 Offi. This will not serve: you cannot put it off so, Your coming thither was to play the villain, To fire the Powder, to blow up that part o’th’ City.

Rut. Yes, with my nose: why were the trap-doors open? Might not you fall, or you, had you gone that way? I thought your City had sunk.

1 Offi. You did your best Sir,
We must presume, to help it into th’ Air,
If you call that sinking: we have told you what’s the law,
He that is taken there, unless a Magistrate,
And have command in that place, presently
If there be nothing found apparent near him
Worthy his torture, or his present death,
Must either pay his fine for his presumption,
(Which is six hundred Duckets) or for six years
Tug at an Oar i’th’ Gallies: will ye walk Sir,
For we presume you cannot pay the penalty.

Rut. Row in the Gallies, after all this mischief?

2 Offi. May be you were drunk, they’l keep you sober there.

Rut. Tug at an Oar? you are not arrant rascals, To catch me in a pit-fall, and betray me?

Sul. A lusty minded man.

Ja. A wondrous able.

Sul. Pray Gentlemen, allow me but that liberty To speak a few words with your prisoner, And I shall thank you.

1 Offi. Take your pleasure Lady.

Sul. What would you give that woman should redeem ye, Redeem ye from this slavery?

Rut. Besides my service I would give her my whole self, I would be her vassal.

Sul. She has reason to expect as much, considering
The great sum she pays for’t, yet take comfort,
What ye shall do to merit this, is easie,
And I will be the woman shall befriend ye,
’Tis but to entertain some handsome Ladies,
And young fair Gentlewomen: you guess the way:
But giving of your mind-

Rut. I am excellent at it: You cannot pick out such another living. I understand ye: is’t not thus?

Sul. Ye have it.

Rut. Bring me a hundred of ’em: I’le dispatch ’em.
I will be none but yours: should another offer
Another way to redeem me, I should scorn it.
What women you shall please: I am monstrous lusty:
Not to be taken down: would you have Children?
I’le get you those as fast, and thick as flie-blows.

Sul. I admire him: wonder at him!

Rut. Hark ye Lady, You may require sometimes-

Sul. I by my faith.

Rut. And you shall have it by my faith, and handsomly:
This old Cat will suck shrewdly: you have no Daughters?
I flye at all: now am I in my Kingdom.
Tug at an Oar? no, tug in a Feather-bed,
With good warm Caudles; hang your bread and water,
I’le make you young again, believe that Lady.
I will so frubbish you.

Sul. Come, follow Officers, This Gentleman is free: I’le pay the Duckets.

Rut. And when you catch me in your City-powdring-tub Again, boil me with Cabbidge.

1 Offi. You are both warn’d and arm’d Sir. [Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Leopold, Hippolyta, Zenocia.

Zen. Will your Ladyship wear this Dressing?

Hip. Leave thy prating: I care not what I wear.

Zen. Yet ’tis my duty To know your pleasure, and my worst affliction To see you discontented.

Hip. Weeping too?
Prethee forgive me: I am much distemper’d,
And speak I know not what: to make thee amends
The Gown that I wore yesterday, is thine;
Let it alone awhile.

Leo. Now you perceive, And taste her bounty.

Zen. Much above my merit.

Leo. But have you not yet found a happy time To move for me.

Zen. I have watched all occasions, But hitherto, without success: yet doubt not But I’le embrace the first means.

Leo. Do, and prosper: Excellent creature, whose perfections make Even sorrow lovely, if your frowns thus take me, What would your smiles doe?

Hip. Pox o’ this stale Courtship: If I have any power.

Leo. I am commanded, Obedience is the Lovers sacrifice Which I pay gladly.

Hip. To be forc’d to wooe, Being a woman, could not but torment me, But bringing for my advocates, youth and beauty, Set off with wealth, and then to be deni’d too Do’s comprehend all tortures. They flatter’d me, That said my looks were charms, my touches fetters, My locks soft chains, to bind the arms of Princes, And make them in that wish’d for bondage, happy. I am like others of a coarser feature, As weak to allure, but in my dotage, stronger: I am no Circe; he, more than Ulysses, Scorns all my offer’d bounties, slights my favours, And, as I were some new Egyptian, flyes me, Leaving no pawn, but my own shame behind him. But he shall finde, that in my fell revenge, I am a woman: one that never pardons The rude contemner of her proffered sweetness.

Enter Zabulon.

Zab. Madam, ’tis done.

Hip. What’s done?

Zab. The uncivill stranger Is at your suite arrested.

Hip. ’Tis well handled.

Zab. And under guard sent to the Governour,
With whom my testimony, and the favour
He bears your Ladiship, have so prevail’d
That he is sentenc’d.

Hip. How?

Zab. To lose his head.

Hip. Is that the means to quench the scorching heat
Of my inrag’d desires? must innocence suffer,
’Cause I am faulty? or is my Love so fatall
That of necessity it must destroy
The object it most longs for? dull Hippolyta,
To think that injuries could make way for love,
When courtesies were despis’d: that by his death
Thou shouldst gain that, which only thou canst hope for
While he is living: My honour’s at the stake now,
And cannot be preserv’d, unless he perish,
The enjoying of the thing I love, I ever
Have priz’d above my fame: why doubt I now then?
One only way is left me, to redeem all:
Make ready my Caroch.

Leo. What will you Madam?

Hip. And yet I am impatient of such stay:
Bind up my hair: fye, fye, while that is doing
The Law may seise his life: thus as I am then,
Not like Hippolyta, but a Bacchanal
My frantique Love transports me. [Exit.

Leo. Sure she’s distracted.

Zab. Pray you follow her: I will along with you:
I more than ghess the cause: women that love
Are most uncertain, and one minute crave,
What in another they refuse to have. [Exit.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Clodio, Charino.

Clo. Assure thy self Charino, I am alter’d
From what I was; the tempests we have met with
In our uncertain voyage, were smooth gales
Compar’d to those, the memory of my lusts
Rais’d in my Conscience: and if ere again
I live to see Zenocia, I will sue,
And seek to her as a Lover, and a Servant,
And not command affection, like a Tyrant.

Char. In hearing this, you make me young again,
And Heaven, it seems, favouring this good change in you
In setting of a period to our dangers
Gives us fair hopes to find that here in Lisbon
Which hitherto in vain we long have sought for.
I have receiv’d assur’d intelligence,
Such strangers have been seen here: and though yet
I cannot learn their fortunes, nor the place
Of their abode, I have a Soul presages
A fortunate event here.

Clo. There have pass’d
A mutual enterchange of courtesies
Between me, and the Governour; therefore boldly
We may presume of him, and of his power
If we finde cause to use them, otherwise
I would not be known here, and these disguises
Will keep us from discovery.

Enter Manuel, Doctor, Arnoldo, Guard.

Char. What are these?

Clo. The Governour: with him my Rival, bound.

Char. For certain ’tis Arnoldo.

Clo. Let’s attend What the success will be.

Mar. Is’t possible There should be hope of his recovery, His wounds so many and so deadly?

Doct. So they appear’d at first, but the blood stop’d, His trance forsook him, and on better search We found they were not mortal.

Man. Use all care
To perfect this unhop’d for cure: that done
Propose your own rewards: and till you shall
Hear farther from me, for some ends I have,
Conceal it from his Mother.

Doct. Wee’l not fail Sir. [Exit.

Man. You still stand confident on your innocence.

Arn. It is my best and last guard, which I will not Leave, to relye on your uncertain mercy.

Enter Hippolyta, Zabulon, Leopold, Zenocia, 2 Servants.

Hip. Who bad you follow me! Goe home, and you Sir, As you respect me, goe with her.

Arn. Zenocia! And in her house a Servant!

Char. ’Tis my Daughter.

Clo. My love? Contain your joy, observe the sequel. [Zen. passes.

Man. Fye Madam, how undecent ’tis for you,
So far unlike your self to bee seen thus
In th’ open streets? why do you kneel? pray you rise,
I am acquainted with the wrong, and loss
You have sustain’d, and the Delinquent now
Stands ready for his punishment.

Hip. Let it fall, Sir,
On the offender: he is innocent,
And most unworthy of these bonds he wears,
But I made up of guilt.

Man. What strange turn’s this?

Leo. This was my prisoner once.

Hip. If chastity
In a young man, and tempted to the height too
Did ere deserve reward, or admiration,
He justly may claim both. Love to his person
(Or if you please give it a fouler name)
Compel’d me first to train him to my house,
All engines I rais’d there to shake his vertue,
Which in the assault were useless; he unmov’d still
As if he had no part of humane frailty.
Against the nature of my Sex, almost
I plaid the Ravisher. You might have seen
In our contention, young Apollo fly
And love-sick Daphne follow, all arts failing,
By flight he wan the victory, breaking from
My scorn’d embraces: the repulse (in women
Unsufferable) invited me to practise
A means to be reveng’d: and from this grew
His Accusation, and the abuse
Of your still equall justice: My rage ever
Thanks heaven, though wanton, I found not my self
So far engag’d to Hell, to prosecute
To the death what I had plotted, for that love
That made me first desire him, then accuse him,
Commands me with the hazard of my self
First to entreat his pardon, then acquit him.

Man. What ere you are, so much I love your vertue, That I desire your friendship: do you unloose him From those bonds, you are worthy of: your repentance Makes part of satisfaction; yet I must Severely reprehend you.

Leo. I am made A stale on all parts: But this fellow shall Pay dearly for her favour.

Arn. My life’s so full
Of various changes, that I now despair
Of any certain port; one trouble ending,
A new, and worse succeeds it: what should Zenocia
Do in this womans house? Can chastity
And hot Lust dwell together without infection?
I would not be or jealous, or secure,
Yet something must be done, to sound the depth on’t:
That she lives is my bliss, but living there,
A hell of torments; there’s no way to her
In whom I live, but by this door, through which
To me ’tis death to enter, yet I must,
And will make tryal.

Man. Let me hear no more
Of these devices, Lady: this I pardon,
And at your intercession I forgive
Your instrument the Jew too: get you home.
The hundred thousand crowns you lent the City
Towards the setting forth of the last Navy
Bound for the Islands, was a good then, which
I ballance with your ill now.

Char. Now Sir, to him, You know my Daughter needs it.

Hip. Let me take
A farewell with mine eye, Sir, though my lip
Be barr’d the Cérémonie, courtesie
And Custom too allows of.

Arn. Gentle Madam,
I neither am so cold, nor so ill bred
But that I dare receive it: you are unguarded,
And let me tell you that I am asham’d
Of my late rudeness, and would gladly therefore
If you please to accept my ready service
Wait on you to your house.

Hip. Above my hope: Sir, if an Angel were to be my convoy, He should not be more welcom.- [Ex. Arn. and Hip.

Clo. Now you know me.

Man. Yes Sir, and honour you: ever remembring
Your many bounties, being ambitious only
To give you cause to say by some one service
That I am not ungratefull.

Clod. ’Tis now offer’d: I have a suit to you, and an easie one, Which e’re long you shall know.

Man. When you think fit Sir,
And then as a command I will receive it,
Till when, most welcom: you are welcom too Sir,
’Tis spoken from the heart, and therefore needs not
Much protestation: at your better leisure
I will enquire the cause that brought you hither:
In the mean time serve you.

Clod. You out-doe me Sir. [Exeunt.