No More Learning

WELL-BRED: Whither went your master, Thomas,
canst thou tell?

CASH: I know not; to Justice Clement's, I think, sir.

[_Exit. _

KNOWELL: Justice Clement! What's he?

WELL-BRED: Why, dost thou not know him? He is a
city magistrate, a justice here, an excellent good lawyer
and a great scholar; but the only mad merry old fellow
in Europe. [_Enter_ CASH.

BOBADILL: Master Kitely's man, pray thee vouchsafe
us the lighting of this match. (CASH _takes match, and
exits_) 'Tis your right, Trinidado. Did you never take
any, Master Stephen?

STEPHEN: No, truly, sir, but I'll learn to take it now,
since you commend it so.

BOBADILL: Sir, I have been in the Indies where this
herb grows; where neither myself nor a dozen gentlemen
more of my knowledge have received the taste of any
other nutriment in the world for the space of one and
twenty weeks, but the fume of this simple only. By Hercules,
I do hold it, and will affirm it, before any prince in
Europe, to be the most sovereign and precious weed that
ever the earth tendered to the use of man.

[COB _has entered meanwhile_.
COB: Mack, I marvel what pleasure they have in taking
this roguish tobacco. It's good for nothing but to
choke a man, and fill him full of smoke and embers.
And there were no wiser men than I, I'd have it present
whipping, man or woman, that should but deal with a
tobacco pipe.

[BOBADILL _cudgels him. Enter_ CASH, _who drags off the
lamenting_ COB. _While the rest are conversing_,
MATTHEW _and_ BOBADILL _slip out_.

WELL-BRED: Soft, where's Master Matthew? Gone?

BRAIN-WORM: No, sir, they went in here.

WELL-BRED: Oh, let's follow them. Master Matthew
is gone to salute his mistress in verse. We shall have the
happiness to hear some of his poetry now. He never
comes impoverished. [_Exeunt. _


SCENE III. --JUSTICE CLEMENT'S.