I am the king’s man: keeps the king any knaves?
Stephano. He should not; but what he doth, it is evident by thee,
And as far as I can learn or understand,
There is none better able to keep knaves in all the land.
Carisophus. O sir, I am a courtier: when courtiers shall hear tell,
How you have used me, they will not take it well.
Stephano. Nay, all right courtiers will ken me thank;[82] and wot you why?
Because I handled a counterfeit courtier in his kind so finely.
What, sir? all are not courtiers that have a counterfeit show;
In a troop of honest men some knaves may stand, ye know,
Such as by stealth creep in under the colour of honesty,
Which sort under that cloak do all kinds of villainy,
A right courtier is virtuous, gentle, and full of urbanity,
Hurting no man, good to all, devoid of villainy:
But such as thou art, fountains of squirrility and vain delights;
Though you hang by the court, you are but flatt’ring parasites;
As well deserving the right name of courtesy,
As the coward knight the true praise of chivalry.
I could say more, but I will not, for that I am your well-willer.
In faith, Carisophus, you are no courtier but a caterpillar,
A sycophant, a parasite, a flatterer, and a knave.
Whether I will or no, these names you must have:
How well you deserve this by your deeds it is known,
For that so unjustly thou hast accused poor Damon,
Whose woful case the gods help alone.
Carisophus. Sir, are you his servant, that you pity his case so?
Stephano. No, bum troth, goodman Grumb, his name is Stephano:
I am called Onaphets,[83] if needs you will know.
The knave beginneth to sift me, but I turn my name in and out,
Cretizo cum Cretense,[84] to make him a lout.
[Aside.
Carisophus. What mumble you with yourself, Master Onaphets?
Stephano. I am reckoning with myself how I may pay my debts.
Carisophus. You have paid me more than you did owe me.
Stephano. Nay, upon a farther reckoning, I will pay you more, if I know
Either you talk of that is done, or by your sycophantical envy
You prick forth Dionysius the sooner, that Damon may die:
I will so pay thee, that thy bones shall rattle in thy skin.
Remember what I have said; Onaphets is my name.
[Exit.
Carisophus. The sturdy knave is gone, the devil him take!
He hath made my head, shoulders, arms, sides, and all to ache.
Thou whoreson villain boy, why didst thou wait no better?
As he paid me, so will I not die thy debtor.
[Strikes him.
Jack. Master, why do you fight with me? I am not your match, you see:
You durst not fight with him that is gone, and will you wreak your anger on me?
Carisophus. Thou villain, by thee I have lost mine honour,
Beaten with a cudgel like a slave, a vacabone, or a lazy lubber,
And not given one blow again. Hast thou handled me well?
Jack. Master, I handled you not, but who did handle you very handsomely, you can tell.
Carisophus. Handsomely! thou crack-rope.[85]
Jack. Yea, sir, very handsomely: I hold you a groat,
He handled you so handsomely, that he left not one mote in your coat.
Carisophus. O, I had firk’d him trimly, thou villain, if thou hadst given me my sword.
Jack. It is better as it is, master, believe me, at a word.
If he had seen your weapon, he would have been fiercer,
And so perhaps beat you worse, I speak it with my heart,
You were never at the dealing of fence-blows, but you had four away for your part.
It is but your luck, you are man good enough;
But the Welsh Onaphets was a vengeance-knave, and rough.
Master, you were best go home and rest in your bed,
Methinks your cap waxeth too little for your head.
Carisophus. What! doth my head swell?
Jack. Yea, as big as a codshead, and bleeds too.
Carisophus. I am ashamed to show my face with this hue.
Jack. No shame at all; men have been beaten far better than you.
Carisophus. I must go to the chirurgeon’s; what shall I say, when I am a-dressing?
Jack. You may say truly you met with a knave’s blessing.
[Exeunt.
Here entereth Aristippus.
Aristippus. By mine own experience I prove true that many men tell,
To live in court not beloved, better be in hell:
What crying out, what cursing, is there within of Carisophus,
Because he accused Damon to King Dionysius!
Even now he came whining and crying into the court for the nonce,
Showing that one Onaphets had broke his knave’s sconce.
Which strange name when they heard every man laugh’d heartily,
And I by myself scann’d his name secretly;
For well I knew it was some mad-headed child
That invented this name, that the log-headed knave might be beguil’d.
In tossing it often with myself to and fro,
I found out that Onaphets backward spelled Stephano.
I smiled in my sleeve, how to see by turning his name he dress’d him,
And how for Damon his master’s sake with a wooden cudgel he bless’d him.
None pitied the knave, no man nor woman; but all laugh’d him to scorn.
To be thus hated of all, better unborn:
Far better Aristippus hath provided, I trow;
For in all the court I am beloved both of high and low.
I offend none, insomuch that women sing this to my great praise,
Omnis Aristippum decuit color, et locus et res.
But in all this jollity one thing ’mazeth me,
The strangest thing that ever was heard or known,
Is now happened in this court by that Damon,
Whom Carisophus accused: Damon is now at liberty,
For whose return Pithias his friend lieth in prison, alas, in great jeopardy.
To-morrow is the day, which day by noon