Ben Jonson - The New Inn. Act 3. Scene 1. lyrics

Tipto, Fly, Jug, Pierce, Jordan, Ferret, Trundle. I like the Plot of your Militia, well! It is a fine Militia, and well order'd! And the Division's neat! 'twill be desir'd Only, the Expressions were a little more Spanish: For there's the best Militia o' the World! To call 'em Tertias, tertia, of the Kitchin, The Tertia of the Cellar, Tertia of the Chamber, And Tertia of the Stables. Fly. That I can be Sir, And find out very able, fit Commanders. In every Tertia. Fly. now you are i' the right! As i' the tertia o' the Kitchin, your self Being a Person, elegant in Sawces, There to Command, as prime Maestro del Campo, Chief Master of the Palate, for that Tertia; Or the Cook under you, 'cause you are the Marshal; And the next Officer i' the Field, to the Host. Then for the Cellar, you have young Anon, Is a rare Fellow, what's his other Name? Fly. Pierce, Sir! Tip. Sir Pierce, I'll ha' him a Cavalier. Sir Pierce Anon, will pierce us a new Hogs-head! And then your Thorow-fare, Jug here, his Alferez: An able Officer, gi' me thy Beard, round Jug, I take thee by this Handle, and do love One of thy Inches! I' the Chambers, Jordan, here! He is the Don, del Campo o' the Beds. And for the Stables, what's his Name? Fly. Old Peck. Tip. Maestro del Campo,Peck! His name is curt, A monosyllable, but Commands the Horse well. Fly. O, in an Inn, Sir, we have other Horse, That we must charge with here. Tip. Bring up the Troops. Or call sweet Fly, 'tis an exact Militia, And thou an exact Professor, Lipsius Fly, Thou shalt be call'd, and Jouse: Jack Ferret, welcome, Old Trench-master, and Colonel o' the Pyoneers, What canst thou bolt us now? A Coney? or two Out of Tom. Trundle's Burrow, here, the Coach? This is the Mast of the Carriages! How is thy driving Tom, good, as 'twas? Tru. It serves my Lady, and out Officer Pru. Twelve Mile an hour! Tom has the old Trundle still. Tip. I am taken with the Family, here, fine Fellows? Viewing the Muster-roll. Tru. They are brave Men! Fer. And of the Fly-blown discipline all, the Quarter-Master! Tip. The Fly's a rare Bird, in his Profession! Let's sip a private Pint with him, I would have him Quit this Light Sign of the Light Heart, my Bird: And lighter House. It is not for his tall And growing Gravity so Cedar-like, To be the second to an Host in Cuerpo, That knows no Elegancies, use his own Dictamen, and his Genius, I would have him Fly high, and strike at all. Here's young Anon, too. Pei. What Wine is't a gentleman, Whine or Claret? Tip. White, my brisk Anon. Pei. I'll draw you Juno's Milk That died the Lilies, Colonel. Tip. Do so Pierce. Pei. A Plague of all Jades, what a Clap he has gi'n me? Fly. Why, how now Cousen? Tip. Who's that? Fer. The Hostler. Fly. What ail'st thou Cousen Peck? Pec. O me, my hanches! As sure as you live, Sir, he knew perfectly I meant to couzen him. He did leer so on me, And then he snear'd. As who would say take heed Sirrah; And when he saw our Half-peck, which you know Was but an Old Court-dish, Lord how he stampt! I thought, 't had been for Joy. When suddenly He cuts me a back Caper with his Heels, And takes me just o' the Crooper. Down come I And my whole Ounce of Oats! Then he neighed out, As if he had a Mare by the Tail. Fly. Troth Cousen, You are to blame to use the poor dumb Christians So cruelly, defraud 'em o' their dimensium. Yonder's the Colonels Horse (there I look'd in) Keeping our Ladies Eve! The Devil a bit He has got, sin'd he came in yet! There he stands, And looks and looks, but 'tis your pleasure, Couss, He should look lean enough. Pec. He has Hay before him. Fly. Yes, but as gross as Hemp, and as soon will choak him, Unless he eat it bu*ter'd. H' had four Shooes, And good ones, when he came in: It is a wonder, With standing still he should cast three. Pec. Troth Quarter-Master, This Trade is a kind of Mistery, that corrupts Our standing Manners quickly: Once a Week, I meet with such a Brush to mollifie me. Sometimes a Brace, to awake my Conscience, Yet still I sleep securely. Fly. Cousin Peck You must use better dealing, faith you must. Pec. Troth to give good Example to my Succesors, I could be well content to steal but two Girts, And now and then a Saddle cloth, change a Bridle, For Exercise: and stay there. Fly. If you could There were some hope, on you, Couss. But the Fate is You're drunk so early, you mistake whole Saddles: Sometimes a Horse. Pec. I there's -- Fly. The Wine, come Couss, I'll talk with you anon. Pec. Do, loose, no time, good Quarter-Master. Tip. There are the Horse, come Fly. Fly. Charge, in Boys, in; Liutenant o' the Ordinance, Tobacco and Pipes. Tip. Who's that? Old Jordan, good! A comely Vessel, and a necessary. New-scour'd he is: Here's to thee, Martial Fly. In Milk, my young Anon says. Pei. Cream o' the Grape! That dropt from Juno's Breasts, and sprung the Lilly! I can recite your fables, Fly, Here is, too, The Blood of Venus, Mother o' the Rose! Jor. The Dinner is gone up. Jug. I hear the Whistle. Jor. I, and the Fidlers. We must all go wait. Pei. Pox o' this waiting, Quarter-Master, Fly. Fly. When Chambermaids are Soveraigns, wait their Ladies. Fly scorns to breath. Pec. Or blow upon them, he. Pei. Old Parcel Peck! Art thou there? how now? lame? Pec. Yes faith: it is still halting afore the Criples, I ha' got a dash of a Jade, here, will stick by me. Pei. O you have had some Phant'sie, fellow Peck, Some Revelation -- Pec. What? Pei. To steal the Hay, Out o' the Racks again. Fly. I told him so, When the Guests backs were turn'd. Pei. Or bring his Peck The bottom upwards, heap'd with Oats; and cry, Here's the best Measure upon all the Road! when You know the Guest, put in his Hand, to feel, And smell to the Oats, that grated all his Fingers Upo' the Wood -- Pec. Mum! Pei. And found out your cheat. Pec. I ha' been i' the Cellar, Peirce. Pei. You were then there, Upo' your Knees; I do remember it: To ha' the Fact conceal'd. I could tell more, Soping of Saddles, cutting of Horse Tails, And cropping -- Pranks of Ale, and Hostelry -- Fly. Which he cannot forget, he says, young knight: No more than you can other Deeds of Darkness, Done i' the Cellar. Tip. Well said, bold Professor. Fer. We shall ha' some truth explain'd. Pei. We are all mortal, And have our Visions. Pec. Truly it seems to me That every Horse has his whole Peck, and tumbles Up to the Ears in litter, Fly. When, indeed There's no such Matter; not a smell of Provender. Fer. Not so much Straw as would tye up a Horse-tail! Fly. Nor any thing i' the Rack, but two old Cob-webs! And so much rotten Hay as had been a Hens Nest! Tru. And yet he's ever apt to sweep the Mangers! Fer. But puts in nothing. Pei. These are Fits and Fancies. Which you must leave, good Peck. Fly. And you must pray It may be reveal'd to you at some times, Whose Horse you ought to cozen; with that Conscience; The how; and when, a Parsons Horse may suffer -- Pei. Who's Master's double Benefic'd; put in that. Fly. A little greasing i' the Teeth; 'tis wholesom; And keeps him in a sober shuffle. Pei. His Saddle too May want a stirrop. Fly. And, it may be sworn, His learning lay o' one side, and so broke it, Pec. They have ever Oats i' their Cloak-bags, to affront us, Fly. And therefore 'tis an Office merituous, To tithe such soundly. Pei. And a Graziers may. Fer. O they are pinching Puckfists! Tru. And suspicious. Pei. Suffer before the Masters Face, sometimes. Fly. He shall think he sees his Horse eat half a Bushel, Pei. When the slight is, ribbing his Gums with Salt, Till all the Skin come off, he shall but mumble, Like an old Woman that were chewing Brawn, And drop 'em out again. Tip. Well argued Cavalier. Fly. It may do well: and go for an Example: But Couss, have care of understanding Horses, Horses with angry Heels, Nobility Horses, Horses that know the World; let them have Meat Till their Teeth ake; and rubbing till their Ribs Shine like a Wenches Forehead. They are Divels else Will look into your Dealings. Pec. For mine own part, The next I cozen o' the pampred breed, I wish he may be found'red. Fly. Foun-de-red. Prolate it right. Pec. And of all Four, I wish it, I love no Crouper-complements. Pei. Whose Horse was it? Pec. Why, Mr. Bursts. Pei. Is bat Burst come? Pec. An hour he has been here. Tip. What Burst? Pei. Mas, Bartolomew Burst. One hath been a Citizen, since a Courtier, And now a Gamester. Hath had all his Whirls, And bouts of Fortune, as a Man would say, Once a Bat and ever a Bat! a Rere-mouse, And Bird o' Twilight, he has broken thrice. Tip. Your better Man, the Geno'way Proverb says, Men are not made of Steel. Pei. Nor are they bound Always to hold. Fly. Thrice Honourable Colonel! Hinges will crack. Tip. Though they be Spanish Iron. Pei. He is a Merchant still, Adventurer, At in and in; and is our thorough-fares Friend. Tip. Who? Jugs? Pei. The same: and a fine Gentleman Was with him! Pec. Mr. Huffle. Pei. Who? Hodge Huffle? Tip. What's he? Pei. A Cheater, and another fine Gentleman, A Friend o' the Chamberlains! Jordans! Mr. Huffle. He is burst's Protection. Fly. Fights, and vapours for him. Pei. He will be drunk so civily. Fly. So discreetly -- Pei. And punctually! just as his Hour. Fly. And then, Call for his Jordan, with that hum and state, As if he piss'd the Politicks! Pei. And sup With his Tuft-taffata Night-gear, here, so silently! Fly. Nothing but Musick! Pei. A dozen of bawdy Songs, Tip. And knows the General this? Fly. O no, Sir Dormit Dormit Patronus, still, the Master sleeps. They'll steal to Bed. Pei. In private Sir, and pay, The Fidlers with that modesty, Next Morning. Fly. Take a disiune of Muscadel and Eggs! Pei. And pack away i' their trundling Cheats, like Gipsies. Tru. Mysteries, mysteries, Ferret. Fer. I we see, trundle What the great Officers of the Crown, But the Light-Heart. Tip. I'll see the Bat and Huffle. Fer. I ha' some Business, Sir, I crave your Pardon -- Tip. What? Fer. To be sober. Tip. Pox, go get you gone then. Trundle shall stay. Tru. No I beseech you Colonel, Your Lordship has a mind to be drunk private, With these brave Gallants; I will step aside Into the Stables, and salute my Mares. Pei. Yes, do. and sleep with 'em, let him go, base Whip-stock. He's drunk as a Fish now, almost as dead. Tip. Come I will see the flicker Mouse, my Flie.