The Case is Altered/Act IV Scene IV

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SCENE IV.

Enter Juniper in his shop, singing. To him Onion.

Oni. Fellow, Juniper, no more of thy

songs and sonnets; sweet Juniper, no more

of thy hymns and madrigals; thou sing'st, but I sigh.

Junip. What's the matter, Peter, ha?

what in an academy still! still in sable and

black costly array, ha?

Oni. Prithee rise, mount, mount, sweet

Juniper; for I go down the wind, and yet I

puff, for I am vext.

Junip. Ha, bully! vext! what, intoxicate!

is thy brain in a quintessence, an

idea, a metamorphosis, an apology, ha,

rogue? Come, this love feeds upon thee, I

see by thy cheeks, and drinks healths of

vermilion tears, I see by thine eyes.

Oni. I confess Cupid's carouse, he plays

super negulum with my liquor of life.

Junip. Tut, thou art a goose to be Cupid's

gull; go to; no more of this contemplations

and calculations; mourn not, for Rachel's thine own.

Oni. For that let the higher powers work;

but sweet Juniper, I am not sad for her, and

yet for her in a second person, or if not, yet

so in a third.

Junip. How! second person! away,

away. In the crotchets already! longitude

and latitude! what second? what person? ha?

Oni. Juniper, I'll bewray myself before

thee, for thy company is sweet unto me;

but I must intreat thy helping hand in the case.

Junip. Tut, no more of this surquedry;

I am thine own ad unguem, upsie freeze;

pell mell, come, what case? what case?

Oni. For the case, it may be any man's

case, as well as mine. Rachel I mean;

but I'll meddle with her anon; in the mean

time, Valentine is the man has wronged me.

Junip. How! my Ingle wrong thee! is't possible!

Oni. Your Ingle! hang him, infidel.

Well, and if I be not revenged on him, let

Peter Onion (by the infernal gods) be turned

to a leek, or a scalion. I spake to him for a

ditty for this handkerchief.

Junip. Why, has he not done it?

Oni. Done it! not a verse, by this hand.

Junip. O in diebus illis! O preposterous!

well, come, be blith; the best inditer of

them all is sometimes dull. Fellow Onion,

pardon mine Ingle; he is a man has imperfections

and declinations, as other men

have; his muse sometimes cannot curvet,

nor prognosticate and come off, as it should;

no matter, I'll hammer out a paraphrase for

thee myself.

Oni. No, sweet Juniper, no; danger doth

breed delay; love makes me choleric, I

can bear no longer.

Junip. Not bear what? my mad meridian

slave. Not bear what?

Oni. Cupid's burden, 'tis too heavy, too

tolerable; and as for the handkerchief and

the posie, I will not trouble thee; but if

thou wilt go with me into her father's backside,

old Jaques' back-side, and speak for me

to Rachel, I will not be ingratitude; the old

man is abroad and all.

Junip. Art thou sure on't?

Oni. As sure an obligation.

Junip. Let's away then; come, we spend

time in a vain circumference; trade, I

casheer thee till to-morrow: fellow Onion,

for thy sake I finish this workiday.

Oni. God a mercy, and for thy sake I'll

at any time make a holiday.

[Exeunt.]