SCENE I.

ENTER MUSCO, DISGUISED LIKE A SOLDIER.

MUS. 'Sblood, I cannot choose but laugh to see myself translated
thus, from a poor creature to a creator; for now must I create an
intolerable sort of lies, or else my profession loses his grace,
and yet the lie to a man of my coat is as ominous as the Fico, oh,
sir, it holds for good policy to have that outwardly in vilest
estimation, that inwardly is most dear to us: So much for my
borrowed shape. Well, the troth is, my master intends to follow
his son dry-foot to Florence, this morning: now I, knowing of this
conspiracy, and the rather to insinuate with my young master, (for
so must we that are blue waiters, or men of service do, or else
perhaps we may wear motley at the year's end, and who wears motley
you know:) I have got me afore in this disguise, determining here
to lie in ambuscado, and intercept him in the midway; if I can but
get his cloak, his purse, his hat, nay, any thing so I can stay his
journey, Rex Regum, I am made for ever, i'faith: well, now must
I practise to get the true garb of one of these Lance-knights; my
arm here, and my — God's so, young master and his cousin.

LOR. JU. So, sir, and how then?

[ENTER LOR. JU. AND STEP.]

STEP. God's foot, I have lost my purse, I think.

LOR. JU. How? lost your purse? where? when had you it?

STEP. I cannot tell, stay.

MUS. 'Slid, I am afraid they will know me, would I could get by
them.

LOR. JU. What! have you it?

STEP. No, I think I was bewitched, I.

LOR. JU. Nay, do not weep, a pox on it, hang it, let it go.

STEP. Oh, it's here; nay, an it had been lost, I had not cared but
for a jet ring Marina sent me.

LOR. JU. A jet ring! oh, the poesie, the poesie!

STEP. Fine, i'faith: "Though fancy sleep, my love is deep":
meaning that though I did not fancy her, yet she loved me dearly.

LOR. JU. Most excellent.

STEP. And then I sent her another, and my poesie was:
"The deeper the sweeter, I'll be judged by Saint Peter."

LOR. JU. How, by St. Peter? I do not conceive that.

STEP. Marry, St. Peter to make up the metre.

LOR JU. Well, you are beholding to that Saint, he help'd you at
your need; thank him, thank him.

MUS. I will venture, come what will: Gentlemen, please you change
a few crowns for a very excellent good blade here; I am a poor
gentleman, a soldier, one that (in the better state of my fortunes)
scorned so mean a refuge, but now it's the humour of necessity to
have it so: you seem to be, gentlemen, well affected to martial
men, else I should rather die with silence, than live with shame:
howe'er, vouchsafe to remember it is my want speaks, not myself:
this condition agrees not with my spirit.

LOR. JU. Where hast thou served?

MUS. May it please you, Signior, in all the provinces of Bohemia,
Hungaria, Dalmatia, Poland, where not? I have been a poor servitor
by sea and land, any time this xiiij. years, and follow'd the
fortunes of the best Commanders in Christendom. I was twice shot
at the taking of Aleppo, once at the relief of Vienna; I have been
at America in the galleys thrice, where I was most dangerously shot
in the head, through both the thighs, and yet, being thus maim'd,
I am void of maintenance, nothing left me but my scars, the noted
marks of my resolution.

STEP. How will you sell this rapier, friend?

MUS. Faith, Signior, I refer it to your own judgment; you are a
gentleman, give me what you please.

STEP. True, I am a gentleman, I know that; but what though, I pray
you say, what would you ask?

MUS. I assure you the blade may become the side of the best prince
in Europe.

LOR. JU. Ay, with a velvet scabbard.

STEP. Nay, an't be mine it shall have a velvet scabbard, that is
flat, I'd not wear it as 'tis an you would give me an angel.

MUS. At your pleasure, Signior, nay, it's a most pure Toledo.

STEP. I had rather it were a Spaniard: but tell me, what shall I
give you for it? an it had a silver hilt —

LOR. JU. Come, come, you shall not buy it; hold, there's a
shilling, friend, take thy rapier.

STEP. Why, but I will buy it now, because you say so: what, shall
I go without a rapier?

LOR. JU. You may buy one in the city.

STEP. Tut, I'll buy this, so I will; tell me your lowest price.

LOR. JU. You shall not, I say.

STEP. By God's lid, but I will, though I give more than 'tis
worth.

LOR. JU. Come away, you are a fool.

STEP. Friend, I'll have it for that word: follow me.

MUS. At your service, Signior.

[EXEUNT.]

ACT II. SCENE II.

ENTER LORENZO SENIOR.

LOR. SE. My labouring spirit being late opprest
With my son's folly, can embrace no rest
Till it hath plotted by advice and skill,
How to reduce him from affected will
To reason's manage; which while I intend,
My troubled soul begins to apprehend
A farther secret, and to meditate
Upon the difference of man's estate:
Where is decipher'd to true judgment's eye
A deep, conceal'd, and precious mystery.
Yet can I not but worthily admire
At nature's art: who (when she did inspire
This heat of life) placed Reason (as a king)
Here in the head, to have the marshalling
Of our affections: and with sovereignty
To sway the state of our weak empery.
But as in divers commonwealths we see,
The form of government to disagree:
Even so in man, who searcheth soon shall find
As much or more variety of mind.
Some men's affections like a sullen wife,
Is with her husband reason still at strife.
Others (like proud arch-traitors that rebel
Against their sovereign) practise to expel
Their liege Lord Reason, and not shame to tread
Upon his holy and anointed head.
But as that land or nation best doth thrive,
Which to smooth-fronted peace is most proclive,
So doth that mind, whose fair affections ranged
By reason's rules, stand constant and unchanged,
Else, if the power of reason be not such,
Why do we attribute to him so much?
Or why are we obsequious to his law,
If he want spirit our affects to awe?
Oh no, I argue weakly, he is strong,
Albeit my son have done him too much wrong.

[ENTER MUSCO.]

MUS. My master: nay, faith, have at you: I am flesh'd now
I have sped so well: Gentleman, I beseech you respect the
estate of a poor soldier; I am ashamed of this base course of
life, (God's my comfort) but extremity provokes me to't; what
remedy?

LOR. SE. I have not for you now.

MUS. By the faith I bear unto God, gentleman, it is no ordinary
custom, but only to preserve manhood. I protest to you, a man I
have been, a man I may be, by your sweet bounty.

LOR. SE. I pray thee, good friend, be satisfied.

MUS. Good Signior: by Jesu, you may do the part of a kind
gentleman, in lending a poor soldier the price of two cans of beer,
a matter of small value, the King of heaven shall pay you, and I
shall rest thankful: sweet Signior —

LOR. SE. Nay, an you be so importunate —

MUS. O Lord, sir, need will have his course: I was not made to
this vile use; well, the edge of the enemy could not have abated me
so much: it's hard when a man hath served in his Prince's cause
and be thus. Signior, let me derive a small piece of silver from
you, it shall not be given in the course of time, by this good
ground, I was fain to pawn my rapier last night for a poor supper,
I am a Pagan else: sweet Signior —

LOR. SE. Believe me, I am rapt with admiration,
To think a man of thy exterior presence
Should (in the constitution of the mind)
Be so degenerate, infirm, and base.
Art thou a man? and sham'st thou not to beg?
To practise such a servile kind of life?
Why, were thy education ne'er so mean,
Having thy limbs: a thousand fairer courses
Offer themselves to thy election.
Nay, there the wars might still supply thy wants,
Or service of some virtuous gentleman,
Or honest labour; nay, what can I name,
But would become thee better than to beg?
But men of your condition feed on sloth,
As doth the Scarab on the dung she breeds in,
Not caring how the temper of your spirits
Is eaten w