Part 22 (1/2)

E. Know. Take heed you buy it not too dear, coz.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-A Room in KITELY'S House.

Enter KITELY, WELLBRED, Dame KITELY, and BRIDGET,

Kit.

Now, trust me, brother, you were much to blame, T' incense his anger, and disturb the peace Of my poor house, where there are sentinels That every minute watch to give alarms Of civil war, without adjection Of your a.s.sistance or occasion.

Wel. No harm done, brother, I warrant you: since there is no harm done, anger costs a man nothing; and a tall man is never his own man till he be angry. To keep his valour in obscurity, is to keep himself as it were in a cloak bag. What's a musician, unless he play? What's a tall man unless he fight? For, indeed, all this my wise brother stands upon absolutely; and that made me fall in with him so resolutely.

Dame K. Ay, but what harm might have come of it, brother?

Wel. Might, sister? so might the good warm clothes your husband wears be poisoned, for any thing he knows: or the wholesome wine he drank, even now at the table.

Kit.

Now, G.o.d forbid! O me! now I remember My wife drank to me last, and changed the cup, And bade me wear this cursed suit to-day.

See, if Heaven suffer murder undiscover'd!

I feel me ill; give me some mithridate, Some mithridate and oil, good sister, fetch me: O, I am Sick at heart, I burn. I burn.

If you will save my life, go fetch it me.

Wel. O strange humour! my very breath has poison'd him.

Brid.

Good brother be content, what do you mean?

The strength of these extreme conceits will kill you.

Dame K.

Beshrew your heart, blood, brother Wellbred, now, For putting such a toy into his head!

Wel. Is a fit simile a toy? will he be poison'd with a simile?

Brother Kitely, what a strange and idle imagination is this! For shame, be wiser. O' my soul there's no such matter.

Kit. Am I not sick? how am I then not poison'd? Am I not poison'd?

how am I then so sick?

Dame K. If you be sick, your own thoughts make you sick.

Wel. His jealousy is the poison he has taken.

Enter BRAINWORM, disguised in FORMAL'S clothes.

Brai. Master Kitely, my master, justice Clement salutes you; and desires to speak with you with all possible speed.

Kit. No time but now, when I think I am sick, very sick! well, I will wait upon his wors.h.i.+p. Thomas! Cob! I must seek them out, and set them sentinels till I return. Thomas! Cob! Thomas!

[Exit. Wel.

This is perfectly rare, Brainworm; [takes him aside.] but how got'st thou this apparel of the justice's man?

Brai. Marry, sir, my proper fine pen-man would needs bestow the grist on me, at the Windmill, to hear some martial discourse; where I so marshall'd him, that I made him drunk with admiration; and, because too much heat was the cause of his distemper, I stript him stark naked as he lay along asleep, and borrowed his suit to deliver this counterfeit message in, leaving a rusty armour, and an old brown bill to watch him till my return; which shall be, when I have p.a.w.n'd his apparel, and spent the better part O' the money, perhaps.