Aurelia,Dorcas.
Aur.Why, we shall have you get in time the turn-Up of your eyes, speak in the nose, draw sighsOf an ell long, and rail at discipline.Would I could hear from Bannswright! Ere I'll be tortur'dWith your preciseness thus, I'll get dry palmsWith starching, and put on my smocks myself.Dor.Surely you may, and air 'em too: there have beenVery devout and holy women that woreNo shift at all.Aur.Such saints, you mean, as woreTheir congregations, and swarm'd with Christian vermin.You'll hold clean linen heresy?Dor.Surely, yes,Clean linen in a surplice: that and powdersDo bring dry summers, make the sickness rage,And the enemy prevail. It was reveal'dTo Mistress Scruple and her husband, whoDo verily ascribe the German warAnd the late persecutions to curling,False teeth, and oil of talc.[194]Aur.Now she is in,A lecturer will sooner hold his peaceThan she.Dor.And surely, as Master Scruple says——Aur.That was her schoolmaster; one that cools a feastWith his long grace, and sooner eats a capon,Than blesses it.Dor.And proves it very well,Out of a book that suffer'd martyrdom[195]By fire in Cheapside; since amulets and bracelets,And love-locks, were in use, the price of sprats,Jerusalem artichokes, and Holland cheese,Is very much increased: so that the brethren—Botchers I mean, and such poor zealous saintsAs earn five groats a week under a stall,By singing psalms, and drawing up of holes,Can't live in their vocation, but are fainTo turn——Aur.Old breeches.Dor.Surely, teachers and prophets.
Aur.Why, we shall have you get in time the turn-Up of your eyes, speak in the nose, draw sighsOf an ell long, and rail at discipline.Would I could hear from Bannswright! Ere I'll be tortur'dWith your preciseness thus, I'll get dry palmsWith starching, and put on my smocks myself.
Dor.Surely you may, and air 'em too: there have beenVery devout and holy women that woreNo shift at all.
Aur.Such saints, you mean, as woreTheir congregations, and swarm'd with Christian vermin.You'll hold clean linen heresy?
Dor.Surely, yes,Clean linen in a surplice: that and powdersDo bring dry summers, make the sickness rage,And the enemy prevail. It was reveal'dTo Mistress Scruple and her husband, whoDo verily ascribe the German warAnd the late persecutions to curling,False teeth, and oil of talc.[194]
Aur.Now she is in,A lecturer will sooner hold his peaceThan she.
Dor.And surely, as Master Scruple says——
Aur.That was her schoolmaster; one that cools a feastWith his long grace, and sooner eats a capon,Than blesses it.
Dor.And proves it very well,Out of a book that suffer'd martyrdom[195]By fire in Cheapside; since amulets and bracelets,And love-locks, were in use, the price of sprats,Jerusalem artichokes, and Holland cheese,Is very much increased: so that the brethren—Botchers I mean, and such poor zealous saintsAs earn five groats a week under a stall,By singing psalms, and drawing up of holes,Can't live in their vocation, but are fainTo turn——
Aur.Old breeches.
Dor.Surely, teachers and prophets.
EnterBannswright.
Aur.O Master Bannswright, are you come!My womanWas in her preaching fit: she only wantedA table's end.Ban.Why, what's the matter?Aur.NeverPoor lady had so much unbred holinessAbout her person; I am never dress'dWithout a sermon; but am forc'd to proveThe lawfulness of curling-irons, beforeShe'll crisp me in a morning. I must showText for the fashions of my gowns. She'll askWhere jewels are commanded? or what ladyI' th' primitive times wore ropes of pearl or rubies?She will urge councils for her little ruff,Call'd in Northamptonshire;[196]and her whole serviceIs a mere confutation of my clothes.Ban.Why, madam, I assure you, time hath been,However she be otherwise, when she hadA good quick wit, and would have made to a ladyA serviceable sinner.Aur.She can't preserveThe gift, for which I took her; but, as thoughShe were inspir'd from Ipswich,[197]she will makeTheActs and Monumentsin sweetmeats, quincesArraign'd and burnt at a stake: all my banquetsAre persecutions; Dioclesian's daysAre brought for entertainment, and we eat martyrs.Ban.Madam, she is far gone.Aur.Nay, sir, she is a Puritan at her needle too.Ban.Indeed!Aur.She works religious petticoats;[198]for flowersShe'll make church-histories. Her needle dothSo sanctify my cushionets; besides,My smock-sleeves have such holy embroideries,And are so learned, that I fear in timeAll my apparel will be quoted bySome pure instructor.[199]Yesterday I wentTo see a lady that has a parrot: my woman,While I was in discourse, converted the fowl;And now it can speak nought but Knox's works;[200]So there's a parrot lost.Ban.Faith, madam, sheWas earnest to come to you. Had I knownHer mistress had so bred her, I would firstHave preferred her to New England.[201]Dor.Surely, sir,You promised me, when you did take my money,To help me to a faithful service, a ladyThat would be saved, not one that loves profane,Unsanctified fashions.Aur.Fly my sight,You goody Hofman,[202]and keep your chamber, tillYou can provide yourself some cure, or IWill forthwith excommunicate your zeal,And make you a silent waiting-woman.Ban.Mistress Dorcas,If you'll be usher to that holy, learned womanThat can heal broken shins, scald heads and th' itch,Your schoolmistress; that can expound, and teachesTo knit in Chaldee, and work Hebrew samplers,I'll help you back again.Dor.The motion, sure, is good,And I will ponder of it.[ExitDorcas.Aur.From thy zeal,The frantic ladies' judgments, and Histriomastix,[203]Deliver me! This was of your preferring;You must needs help me to another.Ban.HowWould you desire her qualified? deformedAnd crooked? like some ladies who do wearTheir women like black patches, to set them off?Aur.I need no foil, nor shall I think I'm whiteOnly between two Moors; or that my noseStands wrong, because my woman's doth stand right.Ban.But you would have her secret, able to keepStrange sights from th' knowledge of your knight, when youAre married, madam; of a quick-feigning head?Aur.You wrong me, Bannswright: she whom I would haveMust to her handsome shape have virtue too.Ban.Well, madam, I shall fit you. I do knowA choleric lady which, within these three weeks,Has, for not cutting her corns well, put offThree women; and is now about to partWith the fourth—just one of your description.Next change o' th' moon or weather, when her feetDo ache again, I do believe I shallPleasure your ladyship.Aur.Expect your reward.[ExitBannswright.
Aur.O Master Bannswright, are you come!My womanWas in her preaching fit: she only wantedA table's end.
Ban.Why, what's the matter?
Aur.NeverPoor lady had so much unbred holinessAbout her person; I am never dress'dWithout a sermon; but am forc'd to proveThe lawfulness of curling-irons, beforeShe'll crisp me in a morning. I must showText for the fashions of my gowns. She'll askWhere jewels are commanded? or what ladyI' th' primitive times wore ropes of pearl or rubies?She will urge councils for her little ruff,Call'd in Northamptonshire;[196]and her whole serviceIs a mere confutation of my clothes.
Ban.Why, madam, I assure you, time hath been,However she be otherwise, when she hadA good quick wit, and would have made to a ladyA serviceable sinner.
Aur.She can't preserveThe gift, for which I took her; but, as thoughShe were inspir'd from Ipswich,[197]she will makeTheActs and Monumentsin sweetmeats, quincesArraign'd and burnt at a stake: all my banquetsAre persecutions; Dioclesian's daysAre brought for entertainment, and we eat martyrs.
Ban.Madam, she is far gone.
Aur.Nay, sir, she is a Puritan at her needle too.
Ban.Indeed!
Aur.She works religious petticoats;[198]for flowersShe'll make church-histories. Her needle dothSo sanctify my cushionets; besides,My smock-sleeves have such holy embroideries,And are so learned, that I fear in timeAll my apparel will be quoted bySome pure instructor.[199]Yesterday I wentTo see a lady that has a parrot: my woman,While I was in discourse, converted the fowl;And now it can speak nought but Knox's works;[200]So there's a parrot lost.
Ban.Faith, madam, sheWas earnest to come to you. Had I knownHer mistress had so bred her, I would firstHave preferred her to New England.[201]
Dor.Surely, sir,You promised me, when you did take my money,To help me to a faithful service, a ladyThat would be saved, not one that loves profane,Unsanctified fashions.
Aur.Fly my sight,You goody Hofman,[202]and keep your chamber, tillYou can provide yourself some cure, or IWill forthwith excommunicate your zeal,And make you a silent waiting-woman.
Ban.Mistress Dorcas,If you'll be usher to that holy, learned womanThat can heal broken shins, scald heads and th' itch,Your schoolmistress; that can expound, and teachesTo knit in Chaldee, and work Hebrew samplers,I'll help you back again.
Dor.The motion, sure, is good,And I will ponder of it.[ExitDorcas.
Aur.From thy zeal,The frantic ladies' judgments, and Histriomastix,[203]Deliver me! This was of your preferring;You must needs help me to another.
Ban.HowWould you desire her qualified? deformedAnd crooked? like some ladies who do wearTheir women like black patches, to set them off?
Aur.I need no foil, nor shall I think I'm whiteOnly between two Moors; or that my noseStands wrong, because my woman's doth stand right.
Ban.But you would have her secret, able to keepStrange sights from th' knowledge of your knight, when youAre married, madam; of a quick-feigning head?
Aur.You wrong me, Bannswright: she whom I would haveMust to her handsome shape have virtue too.
Ban.Well, madam, I shall fit you. I do knowA choleric lady which, within these three weeks,Has, for not cutting her corns well, put offThree women; and is now about to partWith the fourth—just one of your description.Next change o' th' moon or weather, when her feetDo ache again, I do believe I shallPleasure your ladyship.
Aur.Expect your reward.[ExitBannswright.
EnterBright,Newcut,Timothy,Plotwell.
Tim.Lady, let me taste the Elysium of your lips.Aur.Why, what are you? You will not leap me, sir?Pray, know your distance.Tim.What am I, sweet lady?My father is an alderman's fellow; and IHope to be one in time.Aur.Then, sir, in timeYou may be remembered at the quenching ofFir'd houses, when the bells ring backward,[204]byYour name upon the buckets.[205]Tim.Nay, they sayYou have a good wit, lady, and I can find itAs soon as another. I in my time have beenO' th' university, and should have been a scholar.Aur.By the size of your wit, sir, had you keptTo that profession, I can foreseeYou would have been a great persecutor of natureAnd great consumer of rush candles, withAs small success as if a tortoise shouldDay and night practise to run races. HavingContemplated yourself into ill-looks,In pity to so much affliction,You might ha' pass'd for learned; and't may be,If you had fallen out with the Muses, and'Scap'd poetry, you might have risen to scarlet.Tim.Here's a rare lady with all my heart. By thisLight, gentlemen, now have I no more languageThan a dumb parrot. A little more, she'll jeer meInto a fellow that turns upon his toeIn a steeple, and strikes quarters![206]Bright.And why should youBe now so dainty of your lips? Verily,They are not virgins: they have tasted man.Aur.And may again; but then I'll be secur'dFor the sweet air o' th' parties. If youWill bring it me confirm'd under the handsOf four sufficient ladies, that you areClean men, you may chance kiss my woman.New.Lady,Our lips are made of the same clay that yours [are,]And have not been refused.Aur.'Tis right, you areTwo inns-of-court men.Bright.Yes, what then?Aur.Known Cladders[207]Through all the town.Bright.Cladders?Aur.Yes, catholic lovers,From country madams to your glover's wife,Or laundress;[208]will not let poor gentlewomenTake physic quietly, but disturb their pillsFrom operation with your untaught visits;Or, if they be employ'd, contrive small plotsBelow stairs with the chambermaid; commendHer fragrant breath, which five yards off salutes,At four deflow'rs a rose, at three kills spiders.New.What dangerous truths these are!Aur.Ravish a lockFrom the yellow waiting-woman; use stratagemsTo get her silver whistle, and waylayHer pewter-knots or bodkin.New.Pretty, pretty!Bright.You think you have abus'd us now?Aur.I'll tell you:Had I in all the world but forty mark,And that got by my needle, and making socks,And were that forty mark mill'd sixpences,Spur-royals, Harry-groats,[209]or such odd coinOf husbandry, as in the king's reign nowWould never pass, I would despise you.New.Lady,Your wit will make you die a wither'd virgin.Bright.We shall in time, when your most tyrant tongueHath made this house a wilderness, and youAs unfrequented as a statesman fallen;When you shall quarrel with your face and glass,Till from your pencil you have rais'd new cheeks—See you beg suitors, write bills o'er your door:"Here is an ancient lady to be let."New.You think you are handsome now, and that your eyesMake star-shooting, and dart.[210]Aur.'T may be I do.New.May I not prosper if I have not seenA better face in signs or gingerbread.Tim.Yes, I for twopence oft have bought a better.Bright.What a sweet, innocent look you have!Plot.Fie, gentlemen,Abuse a harmless lady thus! I can'tWith patience hear your blasphemies. Make meYour second, madam.Tim.And make me your third.Aur.O prodigy, to hear an image speak!Why, sir, I took you for a mute i' th' hangings.I'll tell the faces.Tim.Gentlemen, do ILook like one of them Trojans?[211]Aur.'tis So; Your FaceIs missing here, sir; pray, step back again,And fill the number. You, I hope, have moreTruth in you than to filch yourself away,And leave my room unfurnish'd.Plot.By this lightShe'll send for a constable straight, and apprehend himFor thievery.Tim.Why, lady, do you think meWrought in a loom, some Dutch piece weav'd at Mortlake?[212]Aur.Surely You Stood So Simply, Like a ManPenning of recantations, that I suspectedY' had been a part of the monopoly.But now I know you have a tongue, and areA very man, I'll think you only dull,And pray for better utterance.Plot.Lady, you makeRash judgment of him; he was only struckWith admiration of your beauty.Tim.Truly, and so I was.Aur.Then you can wonder, sir?Plot.Yes, when he sees such miracles as you.Aur.And love me, can't you?Tim.Love you! By this hand,I'd love a dog of your sweet looks: I amEnamour'd of you, lady.Aur.Ha, ha, ha! now surelyI wonder you wear not a cap: your caseRequires warm things! I'll send you forth a caudle.[Exit.Bright.The plague of rotten teeth, wrinkles, loud lungs,Be with you, madam.Tim.Had I now pen and ink,If I were urg'd, I'd fain know whether IIn conscience ought not to set down myselfNo wiser than I should be?Plot.Gentlemen, how like you her wit?Tim.Wit! I verilyBelieve she was begotten by some wit;And he that has her may beget plays on her.New.Her wit had need be good, it finds her house.Tim.Her house! 'tis able to find the court: if sheBe chaste to[213]all this wit, I do not thinkBut that she might be shown.Bright.She speaks with salt,And has a pretty scornfulness, which nowI've seen, I'm satisfied.New.Come then away to Roseclap's.Tim.Lead on; let us dine. This ladyRuns in my head still.
Tim.Lady, let me taste the Elysium of your lips.
Aur.Why, what are you? You will not leap me, sir?Pray, know your distance.
Tim.What am I, sweet lady?My father is an alderman's fellow; and IHope to be one in time.
Aur.Then, sir, in timeYou may be remembered at the quenching ofFir'd houses, when the bells ring backward,[204]byYour name upon the buckets.[205]
Tim.Nay, they sayYou have a good wit, lady, and I can find itAs soon as another. I in my time have beenO' th' university, and should have been a scholar.
Aur.By the size of your wit, sir, had you keptTo that profession, I can foreseeYou would have been a great persecutor of natureAnd great consumer of rush candles, withAs small success as if a tortoise shouldDay and night practise to run races. HavingContemplated yourself into ill-looks,In pity to so much affliction,You might ha' pass'd for learned; and't may be,If you had fallen out with the Muses, and'Scap'd poetry, you might have risen to scarlet.
Tim.Here's a rare lady with all my heart. By thisLight, gentlemen, now have I no more languageThan a dumb parrot. A little more, she'll jeer meInto a fellow that turns upon his toeIn a steeple, and strikes quarters![206]
Bright.And why should youBe now so dainty of your lips? Verily,They are not virgins: they have tasted man.
Aur.And may again; but then I'll be secur'dFor the sweet air o' th' parties. If youWill bring it me confirm'd under the handsOf four sufficient ladies, that you areClean men, you may chance kiss my woman.
New.Lady,Our lips are made of the same clay that yours [are,]And have not been refused.
Aur.'Tis right, you areTwo inns-of-court men.
Bright.Yes, what then?
Aur.Known Cladders[207]Through all the town.
Bright.Cladders?
Aur.Yes, catholic lovers,From country madams to your glover's wife,Or laundress;[208]will not let poor gentlewomenTake physic quietly, but disturb their pillsFrom operation with your untaught visits;Or, if they be employ'd, contrive small plotsBelow stairs with the chambermaid; commendHer fragrant breath, which five yards off salutes,At four deflow'rs a rose, at three kills spiders.
New.What dangerous truths these are!
Aur.Ravish a lockFrom the yellow waiting-woman; use stratagemsTo get her silver whistle, and waylayHer pewter-knots or bodkin.
New.Pretty, pretty!
Bright.You think you have abus'd us now?
Aur.I'll tell you:Had I in all the world but forty mark,And that got by my needle, and making socks,And were that forty mark mill'd sixpences,Spur-royals, Harry-groats,[209]or such odd coinOf husbandry, as in the king's reign nowWould never pass, I would despise you.
New.Lady,Your wit will make you die a wither'd virgin.
Bright.We shall in time, when your most tyrant tongueHath made this house a wilderness, and youAs unfrequented as a statesman fallen;When you shall quarrel with your face and glass,Till from your pencil you have rais'd new cheeks—See you beg suitors, write bills o'er your door:"Here is an ancient lady to be let."
New.You think you are handsome now, and that your eyesMake star-shooting, and dart.[210]
Aur.'T may be I do.
New.May I not prosper if I have not seenA better face in signs or gingerbread.
Tim.Yes, I for twopence oft have bought a better.
Bright.What a sweet, innocent look you have!
Plot.Fie, gentlemen,Abuse a harmless lady thus! I can'tWith patience hear your blasphemies. Make meYour second, madam.
Tim.And make me your third.
Aur.O prodigy, to hear an image speak!Why, sir, I took you for a mute i' th' hangings.I'll tell the faces.
Tim.Gentlemen, do ILook like one of them Trojans?[211]
Aur.'tis So; Your FaceIs missing here, sir; pray, step back again,And fill the number. You, I hope, have moreTruth in you than to filch yourself away,And leave my room unfurnish'd.
Plot.By this lightShe'll send for a constable straight, and apprehend himFor thievery.
Tim.Why, lady, do you think meWrought in a loom, some Dutch piece weav'd at Mortlake?[212]
Aur.Surely You Stood So Simply, Like a ManPenning of recantations, that I suspectedY' had been a part of the monopoly.But now I know you have a tongue, and areA very man, I'll think you only dull,And pray for better utterance.
Plot.Lady, you makeRash judgment of him; he was only struckWith admiration of your beauty.
Tim.Truly, and so I was.
Aur.Then you can wonder, sir?
Plot.Yes, when he sees such miracles as you.
Aur.And love me, can't you?
Tim.Love you! By this hand,I'd love a dog of your sweet looks: I amEnamour'd of you, lady.
Aur.Ha, ha, ha! now surelyI wonder you wear not a cap: your caseRequires warm things! I'll send you forth a caudle.[Exit.
Bright.The plague of rotten teeth, wrinkles, loud lungs,Be with you, madam.
Tim.Had I now pen and ink,If I were urg'd, I'd fain know whether IIn conscience ought not to set down myselfNo wiser than I should be?
Plot.Gentlemen, how like you her wit?
Tim.Wit! I verilyBelieve she was begotten by some wit;And he that has her may beget plays on her.
New.Her wit had need be good, it finds her house.
Tim.Her house! 'tis able to find the court: if sheBe chaste to[213]all this wit, I do not thinkBut that she might be shown.
Bright.She speaks with salt,And has a pretty scornfulness, which nowI've seen, I'm satisfied.
New.Come then away to Roseclap's.
Tim.Lead on; let us dine. This ladyRuns in my head still.
Enter aFootman.
Foot.Sir, my lady praysYou would dismiss your company; she hasSome business with you.Plot.Gentlemen, walk softly; I'll overtake you.Bright.Newcut, 'slight! her witIs come to private meetings!New.Ay, I thoughtShe had some other virtues. Well, make haste,We'll stay without; when thou hast done, inform usWhat the rate is: if she be reasonable,We'll be her customers.Plot.Y' are merry, sir.[ExitBright,Newcut,Timothy.
Foot.Sir, my lady praysYou would dismiss your company; she hasSome business with you.
Plot.Gentlemen, walk softly; I'll overtake you.
Bright.Newcut, 'slight! her witIs come to private meetings!
New.Ay, I thoughtShe had some other virtues. Well, make haste,We'll stay without; when thou hast done, inform usWhat the rate is: if she be reasonable,We'll be her customers.
Plot.Y' are merry, sir.[ExitBright,Newcut,Timothy.
EnterAurelia.
Plot.Nay, sister, you may enter; they are gone.I did receive your ticket this morning. What!You look the mine should run still?Aur.O, you areA careful brother to put me on a courseThat draws the eyes o' th' town upon me, and makes meDiscourse for ordinaries, then leave me in't.I will put off my ladyship, and returnTo Mistress Holland, and to making shirtsAnd bands again.Plot.I hope you will not.Aur.I repent I left th' Exchange.Plot.Faith, I should laughTo see you there again, and there serve outThe rest of your indentures, by managingYour needle well, and making nightcaps byA chafing-dish in winter mornings, to keepYour fingers pliant. How rarely 'twould become youTo run over all your shop to passengersIn a fine sale-tune!Aur.What would you have me do?D'ye think I'm the Dutch virgin, that could liveBy th' scent of flowers?[214]Or that my familyAre descended of cameleons,And can be kept with air? Is this the wayTo get a husband; to be in danger to beShut up for house-rent, or to wear a gownOut a whole fashion, or the same jewels twice?Shortly my neighbours will commend my clothesFor lasting well, give them strange dates, and cry,"Since your last gorget and the blazing star."Plot.Prythee, excuse me, sister, I can nowRain showers of silver into thy lap again.My uncle's gone to sea, and has left meThe key to th' golden fleece. Thou shalt be stillA madam, Pen; and to maintain thy honour,And to new-dub thee, take this.[Gives her a purse.But, sister, IExpected you ere this, out of the throngOf suitors that frequent you, should have beenMade a true lady—not one in type or show.I fear you are too scornful, look too high.Aur.Faith, brother, 'tis no age to be put offWith empty education; few will make jointuresTo wit or good parts. I may die a virgin,When some old widow, which at every coughResigns some of her teeth, and every nightPuts off her leg as duly as French hood,Scarce wears her own nose, hath no eyes but suchAs she first bought in Broad Street, and every morningIs put together like some instrument,Having full coffers, shall be woo'd, and thoughtA youthful bride.Plot.Why, sister, will you likeA match of my projection? You do knowHow ruinous our father's fortunes are.Before he broke, you know, there was a contractBetween you and young Seathrift. What if IMake it a wedding?Aur.Marry a fool, in hopeTo be a Lady Mayoress?Plot.Why, sister, ICould name good ladies that are fain to findWit for themselves and knights too.Aur.I have heardOf one, whose husband was so meek, to beFor need her gentleman-usher; and, while sheMade visits above stairs, would patientlyFind himself business at trey-trip[215]i' th' hall.Plot.He's only city-bred; one month of yourSharp conversation will refine him; besides,How long will't be ere your dissembled stateMeet such another offer?Aur.Well, brother, you shall dispose of my affections.Plot.Then some timeThis afternoon I'll bring him hither: do youProvide the priest: your dining-room will serveAs well as the church.Aur.I will expect you.[Exeunt several ways.
Plot.Nay, sister, you may enter; they are gone.I did receive your ticket this morning. What!You look the mine should run still?
Aur.O, you areA careful brother to put me on a courseThat draws the eyes o' th' town upon me, and makes meDiscourse for ordinaries, then leave me in't.I will put off my ladyship, and returnTo Mistress Holland, and to making shirtsAnd bands again.
Plot.I hope you will not.
Aur.I repent I left th' Exchange.
Plot.Faith, I should laughTo see you there again, and there serve outThe rest of your indentures, by managingYour needle well, and making nightcaps byA chafing-dish in winter mornings, to keepYour fingers pliant. How rarely 'twould become youTo run over all your shop to passengersIn a fine sale-tune!
Aur.What would you have me do?D'ye think I'm the Dutch virgin, that could liveBy th' scent of flowers?[214]Or that my familyAre descended of cameleons,And can be kept with air? Is this the wayTo get a husband; to be in danger to beShut up for house-rent, or to wear a gownOut a whole fashion, or the same jewels twice?Shortly my neighbours will commend my clothesFor lasting well, give them strange dates, and cry,"Since your last gorget and the blazing star."
Plot.Prythee, excuse me, sister, I can nowRain showers of silver into thy lap again.My uncle's gone to sea, and has left meThe key to th' golden fleece. Thou shalt be stillA madam, Pen; and to maintain thy honour,And to new-dub thee, take this.[Gives her a purse.But, sister, IExpected you ere this, out of the throngOf suitors that frequent you, should have beenMade a true lady—not one in type or show.I fear you are too scornful, look too high.
Aur.Faith, brother, 'tis no age to be put offWith empty education; few will make jointuresTo wit or good parts. I may die a virgin,When some old widow, which at every coughResigns some of her teeth, and every nightPuts off her leg as duly as French hood,Scarce wears her own nose, hath no eyes but suchAs she first bought in Broad Street, and every morningIs put together like some instrument,Having full coffers, shall be woo'd, and thoughtA youthful bride.
Plot.Why, sister, will you likeA match of my projection? You do knowHow ruinous our father's fortunes are.Before he broke, you know, there was a contractBetween you and young Seathrift. What if IMake it a wedding?
Aur.Marry a fool, in hopeTo be a Lady Mayoress?
Plot.Why, sister, ICould name good ladies that are fain to findWit for themselves and knights too.
Aur.I have heardOf one, whose husband was so meek, to beFor need her gentleman-usher; and, while sheMade visits above stairs, would patientlyFind himself business at trey-trip[215]i' th' hall.
Plot.He's only city-bred; one month of yourSharp conversation will refine him; besides,How long will't be ere your dissembled stateMeet such another offer?
Aur.Well, brother, you shall dispose of my affections.
Plot.Then some timeThis afternoon I'll bring him hither: do youProvide the priest: your dining-room will serveAs well as the church.
Aur.I will expect you.[Exeunt several ways.
EnterCaptain QuartfieldbeatingRoseclap;SalewitandMillicentlabouring to part them.
Quart.Sirrah, I'll beat you into air.Rose.Good captain!Quart.I will, by Hector.Rose.Murder, murder, help!Quart.You needy, shifting, cosening, breaking slave.Mil.Nay, Master Salewit, help to part 'em.Sale.Captain!Quart.Ask me for money? dog!Rose.O, I am kill'd!Mil.Help, help!Sale.Nay, captain.Quart.Men of my coat pay!Mil.I'll call in neighbours. Murder, murder!Quart.Rascal,I'll make you trust, and offer me petitionsTo go o' th' score.Rose.Good: 'tis very good.Mil.How does thy head, sweetheart?Rose.Away, be quiet, Millicent.Sale.Roseclap, you'll never leave this: I did tell you,Last time the captain beat you, what a lionHe is, being ask'd for reckonings.Mil.So you did,Indeed, good Master Salewit; yet you mustEver be foolish, husband.Sale.What if weDo owe you money, sir; is't fit for youTo ask it?Rose.Well, Sir, There Is Law. I SayNo more, but there is law.Quart.What law, you cur?The law of nature, custom, arms, and nations,Frees men of war from payments.Rose.Yes, your arms, captain; none else.Quart.No soldiers ought to pay.Sale.Nor poets:All void of money are privileged.Mil.What would you have?Captains and poets, Master Salewit says,Must never pay.Sale.No, nor be ask'd for money.Rose.Still, I say, there is law.Quart.Say that again,And, by Bellona, I will cut thy throat.Mil.You long to see your brains out.Quart.Why, you mongrel,You John-of-all-trades, have we been your guestsSince you first kept a tavern; when you hadThe face and impudence to hang a bushOut to three pints of claret, two of sack,In all the world?Sale.After that, when you broke,Did we here find you out, custom'd your house,And help'd away your victuals, which had elseLain mouldy on your hands?Rose.You did indeed,And never paid for't. I do not deny,But you have been my customers these two years;My jack went not, nor chimney smok'd without you.I will go farther; your two mouths have beenTwo as good eating mouths as need to comeWithin my doors; as curious to be pleased,As if you still had eaten with ready money;Had still the meats in season; still drank moreThan your ordinary came to.Sale.And your conscience nowWould have this paid for?Rose.Surely, so I take it.Sale.Was ever the like heard?Quart.'Tis most unreasonable;He has a harden'd conscience. Sirrah cheater,You would be question'd for your reckonings, rogue.Rose.Do you inform?Quart.I hear one o' th' sheriffsPaid for the boiling of a carp a mark.Sale.Most unheard-of exactions!Rose.Yet surely, captain,No man had cheaper reckonings than yourselfAnd Master Salewit here.Quart.How cheap?Rose.I sayNo more, good captain; not to pay is cheap,A man would think.Quart.Sir, don't you reckon air,And make it dear to breathe in your house, and putThe nose to charges?Rose.Right; perfum'd air, captain.Quart.Is not the standing of the salt an item,And placing of the bread?Rose.A new way, captain.Quart.Is not the folding of your napkins broughtInto the bill?Rose.Pinch'd napkins, captain, and laidLike fishes, fowls, or faces.Sale.Then rememberHow you rate salads, Roseclap; one may buyGardens as cheap.Rose.Yes, Master Salewit, saladsTaken from Euclid, made in diagrams,And to be eaten in figures.Quart.And we must pay for your inventions, sir?Rose.Or you are damn'd:Good captain, you have sworn to pay this twelvemonth.Quart.Peace! you loud, bawling cur; do you disgrace meBefore these gallants? See if I don't kill you.
Quart.Sirrah, I'll beat you into air.
Rose.Good captain!
Quart.I will, by Hector.
Rose.Murder, murder, help!
Quart.You needy, shifting, cosening, breaking slave.
Mil.Nay, Master Salewit, help to part 'em.
Sale.Captain!
Quart.Ask me for money? dog!
Rose.O, I am kill'd!
Mil.Help, help!
Sale.Nay, captain.
Quart.Men of my coat pay!
Mil.I'll call in neighbours. Murder, murder!
Quart.Rascal,I'll make you trust, and offer me petitionsTo go o' th' score.
Rose.Good: 'tis very good.
Mil.How does thy head, sweetheart?
Rose.Away, be quiet, Millicent.
Sale.Roseclap, you'll never leave this: I did tell you,Last time the captain beat you, what a lionHe is, being ask'd for reckonings.
Mil.So you did,Indeed, good Master Salewit; yet you mustEver be foolish, husband.
Sale.What if weDo owe you money, sir; is't fit for youTo ask it?
Rose.Well, Sir, There Is Law. I SayNo more, but there is law.
Quart.What law, you cur?The law of nature, custom, arms, and nations,Frees men of war from payments.
Rose.Yes, your arms, captain; none else.
Quart.No soldiers ought to pay.
Sale.Nor poets:All void of money are privileged.
Mil.What would you have?Captains and poets, Master Salewit says,Must never pay.
Sale.No, nor be ask'd for money.
Rose.Still, I say, there is law.
Quart.Say that again,And, by Bellona, I will cut thy throat.
Mil.You long to see your brains out.
Quart.Why, you mongrel,You John-of-all-trades, have we been your guestsSince you first kept a tavern; when you hadThe face and impudence to hang a bushOut to three pints of claret, two of sack,In all the world?
Sale.After that, when you broke,Did we here find you out, custom'd your house,And help'd away your victuals, which had elseLain mouldy on your hands?
Rose.You did indeed,And never paid for't. I do not deny,But you have been my customers these two years;My jack went not, nor chimney smok'd without you.I will go farther; your two mouths have beenTwo as good eating mouths as need to comeWithin my doors; as curious to be pleased,As if you still had eaten with ready money;Had still the meats in season; still drank moreThan your ordinary came to.
Sale.And your conscience nowWould have this paid for?
Rose.Surely, so I take it.
Sale.Was ever the like heard?
Quart.'Tis most unreasonable;He has a harden'd conscience. Sirrah cheater,You would be question'd for your reckonings, rogue.
Rose.Do you inform?
Quart.I hear one o' th' sheriffsPaid for the boiling of a carp a mark.
Sale.Most unheard-of exactions!
Rose.Yet surely, captain,No man had cheaper reckonings than yourselfAnd Master Salewit here.
Quart.How cheap?
Rose.I sayNo more, good captain; not to pay is cheap,A man would think.
Quart.Sir, don't you reckon air,And make it dear to breathe in your house, and putThe nose to charges?
Rose.Right; perfum'd air, captain.
Quart.Is not the standing of the salt an item,And placing of the bread?
Rose.A new way, captain.
Quart.Is not the folding of your napkins broughtInto the bill?
Rose.Pinch'd napkins, captain, and laidLike fishes, fowls, or faces.
Sale.Then rememberHow you rate salads, Roseclap; one may buyGardens as cheap.
Rose.Yes, Master Salewit, saladsTaken from Euclid, made in diagrams,And to be eaten in figures.
Quart.And we must pay for your inventions, sir?
Rose.Or you are damn'd:Good captain, you have sworn to pay this twelvemonth.
Quart.Peace! you loud, bawling cur; do you disgrace meBefore these gallants? See if I don't kill you.
EnterBright,Newcut,Timothy,Plotwell.
Bright.Save you, Captain Quartfield, and my brave wit,My man of Helicon. Salute this gentleman,He is a city wit.New.A corporation went to the bringing of him forth.Quart.I embrace him.Sale.And so do I.Tim.You are a poet, sir,And can make verses, I hear?Sale.Sir, I amA servant to the Muses.Tim.I have madeSome speeches, sir, in verse, which have been spokeBy a green Robin Goodfellow from Cheapside conduit,[216]To my father's company, and mean this afternoonTo make an epithalamium upon my wedding.A lady fell in love with me this morning:Ask Master Francis here.Plot.Heart! you spoil all.Did not I charge you to be silent?Tim.That's true;I had forgot. You are a captain, sir?Quart.I have seen service, sir.Tim.Captain, I loveMen of the sword and buff; and if need were,I can roar too, and hope to swear in time,Do you see, captain?Plot.Nay, captain, we have brought youA gentleman of valour, who has beenIn Moorfields often: marry, it has beenTo 'squire his sisters, and demolish custardsAt Pimlico.[217][Timothywalks aside.Quart.Afore me, Master Plotwell;I never hop'd to see you in silk again.Sale.I look'd the next Lord Mayor's day to see you o' th' livery,Or one o' th' bachelor whifflers.[218]Quart.What, is your uncle dead?Plot.He may in time: he's goneTo sea this morning, captain; and I am comeInto your order again. But hark you, captain,What think you of a fish now?Quart.Mad wags, mad wags.Bright.By Heaven, it's true. Here we have brought one with us.New.Rich Seathrift's son: he'll make a rare sea-monster.Quart.And shall's be merry, i' faith?Bright.Salewit shall make a song upon him.New.And Roseclap's boy shall sing it.Sale.We have the properties of the last fish.[219]Quart.And if IAt dinner do not give him sea enough,And afterwards, if I and Salewit do notShow him much better than he that shows the Tombs,Let me be turned into a sword-fish myself.Plot.A natural change for a captain! How now, Roseclap,Pensive, and cursing the long vacation?Thou look'st as if thou mean'st to break shortly.Rose.Ask the captain why I am sad?Quart.Faith, gentlemen,I disciplin'd him for his rudeness.Plot.Why, theseAre judgments, Roseclap, for dear reckonings.Tim.Art thou the half-crown fellow of the house?Rose.Sir, I do keep the ordinary.Tim.Let's have wine enough;I mean to drink a health to a lady.Plot.StillWill you betray your fortune? One of themWill go and tell her who you are, and spoilThe marriage.Tim.No; peace! Gentlemen, if you'llGo in, we'll follow.Rose.Please you enter, dinnerShall straight be set upon the board.Bright.We'll expect you. Come, gentlemen.
Bright.Save you, Captain Quartfield, and my brave wit,My man of Helicon. Salute this gentleman,He is a city wit.
New.A corporation went to the bringing of him forth.
Quart.I embrace him.
Sale.And so do I.
Tim.You are a poet, sir,And can make verses, I hear?
Sale.Sir, I amA servant to the Muses.
Tim.I have madeSome speeches, sir, in verse, which have been spokeBy a green Robin Goodfellow from Cheapside conduit,[216]To my father's company, and mean this afternoonTo make an epithalamium upon my wedding.A lady fell in love with me this morning:Ask Master Francis here.
Plot.Heart! you spoil all.Did not I charge you to be silent?
Tim.That's true;I had forgot. You are a captain, sir?
Quart.I have seen service, sir.
Tim.Captain, I loveMen of the sword and buff; and if need were,I can roar too, and hope to swear in time,Do you see, captain?
Plot.Nay, captain, we have brought youA gentleman of valour, who has beenIn Moorfields often: marry, it has beenTo 'squire his sisters, and demolish custardsAt Pimlico.[217][Timothywalks aside.
Quart.Afore me, Master Plotwell;I never hop'd to see you in silk again.
Sale.I look'd the next Lord Mayor's day to see you o' th' livery,Or one o' th' bachelor whifflers.[218]
Quart.What, is your uncle dead?
Plot.He may in time: he's goneTo sea this morning, captain; and I am comeInto your order again. But hark you, captain,What think you of a fish now?
Quart.Mad wags, mad wags.
Bright.By Heaven, it's true. Here we have brought one with us.
New.Rich Seathrift's son: he'll make a rare sea-monster.
Quart.And shall's be merry, i' faith?
Bright.Salewit shall make a song upon him.
New.And Roseclap's boy shall sing it.
Sale.We have the properties of the last fish.[219]
Quart.And if IAt dinner do not give him sea enough,And afterwards, if I and Salewit do notShow him much better than he that shows the Tombs,Let me be turned into a sword-fish myself.
Plot.A natural change for a captain! How now, Roseclap,Pensive, and cursing the long vacation?Thou look'st as if thou mean'st to break shortly.
Rose.Ask the captain why I am sad?
Quart.Faith, gentlemen,I disciplin'd him for his rudeness.
Plot.Why, theseAre judgments, Roseclap, for dear reckonings.
Tim.Art thou the half-crown fellow of the house?
Rose.Sir, I do keep the ordinary.
Tim.Let's have wine enough;I mean to drink a health to a lady.
Plot.StillWill you betray your fortune? One of themWill go and tell her who you are, and spoilThe marriage.
Tim.No; peace! Gentlemen, if you'llGo in, we'll follow.
Rose.Please you enter, dinnerShall straight be set upon the board.
Bright.We'll expect you. Come, gentlemen.
[ExeuntBright,Newcut,Salewit,Quartfield, andRoseclap.