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Full Online Book HomePlaysEvery Man Out Of His Humour - Act 5 - Scene 5
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Every Man Out Of His Humour - Act 5 - Scene 5 Post by :Allnewe Category :Plays Author :Ben Jonson Date :May 2012 Read :772

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Every Man Out Of His Humour - Act 5 - Scene 5

ACT V - SCENE V

SCENE V. -- A ROOM IN DELIRO'S HOUSE.

(ENTER MACILENTE AND DELIRO.)

MACI.
Tut, sir, you did bear too hard a conceit of me in that; but I will not make my love to you most transparent, in spite of any dust of suspicion that may be raised to cloud it; and henceforth, since I see it is so against your humour, I will never labour to persuade you.

DELI.
Why, I thank you, signior; but what is that you tell me may concern my peace so much?

MACI.
Faith, sir, 'tist hus. Your wife's brother, signior Fungoso, being at supper to-night at a tavern, with a sort of gallants, there happened some division amongst them, and he is left in pawn for the reckoning. Now, if ever you look that time shall present you with an happy occasion to do your wife some gracious and acceptable service, take hold of this opportunity, and presently go and redeem him; for, being her brother, and his credit so amply engaged as now it is, when she shall hear, (as he cannot himself, but he must out of extremity report it,) that you came, and offered y ourself so kindly, and with that respect of his reputation; why, the benefit cannot but make her dote, and grow mad of your affections.

DELI.
Now, by heaven, Macilente, I acknowledge myself exceedingly indebted to you, by this kind tender of your love; and I am sorry to remember that I was ever so rude, to neglect a friend of your importance. -- Bring me shoes and a cloak here. -- I was going to bed, if you had not come. What tavern is it?

MACI.
The Mitre, sir.

DELI.
O! Why, Fido! my shoes. -- Good faith, it cannot but please her exceedingly.

(ENTER FALLACE.)

FAL.
Come, I marle what piece of night-work you have in hand now, that you call for a cloak, and your shoes: What, is this your pander?

DELI.
O, sweet wife, speak lower, I would not he should hear thee for a world --

FAL.
Hang him, rascal, I cannot abide him for his treachery, with his wild quick-set beard there. Whither go you now with him?

DELI.
No, whither with him, dear wife; I go alone to a place, from whence I will return instantly. -- Good Macilente, acquaint not her with it by any means, it may come so much the more accepted; frame some other answer. -- I'll come back immediately.

(EXIT.)

FAL.
Nay, an I be not worthy to know whither you go, stay till I take knowledge of your coming back.

MACI.
Hear you, mistress Deliro.

FAL.
So, sir, and what say you?

MACI.
Faith, lady, my intents will not deserve this slight respect, when you shall know them.

FAL.
Your intents! why, what may your intents be, for God's sake?

MACI.
Troth, the time allows no circumstance, lady, therefore know this was but a device to remove your husband hence, and bestow him securely, whilst, with more conveniency, I might report to you a misfortune that hath happened to monsieur Brisk -- Nay, comfort, sweet lady. This night, being at supper, a sort of young gallants committed a riot, for the which he only is apprehended and carried to the Counter, where, if your husband, and other creditors, should but have knowledge of him, the poor gentleman were undone for ever.

FAL.
Ah me! that he were.

MACI.
Now, therefore, if you can think upon any present means for his delivery, do not foreslow it. A bribe to the officer that committed him will do it.

FAL.
O lord, sir! he shall not want for a bribe; pray you, will you commend me to him, and say I'll visit him presently.

MACI.
No, lady, I shall do you better service, in protracting your husband's return, that you may go with more safety.

FAL.
Good truth, so you may; farewell, good sir.

(EXIT MACI.)

-- Lord,

how a woman may be mistaken in a man! I would have sworn upon all the Testaments in the world he had not loved master Brisk. Bring me my keys there, maid. Alas, good gentleman, if all I have in this earthly world will pleasure him, it shall be at his service.

(EXIT.)

MIT.
How Macilente sweats in this business, if you mark him!

COR.
Ay, you shall see the true picture of spite, anon: here comes the pawn and his redeemer.

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