EnterDe Gard,andLeverdure,aliasLugier.
De G.Iknowye are a Scholar, and can do wonders.Lug.There's no great Scholarship belongs to this, Sir;What I am, I am; I pity your poor Sister,And heartily I hate these Travellers,These Gim-cracks, made of Mops, and Motions:There's nothing in their houses here but hummings;A Bee has more brains. I grieve, and vex tooThe insolent licentious carriageOf this out-facing fellow,Mirabell,And I am mad to see him prick his plumes up.De Gar.His wrongs you partly know.Lug.Do not you stir, Sir,Since he has begun with wit, let wit revenge it;Keep your sword close, we'll cut his throat a new way.I am asham'd the Gentlewoman should sufferSuch base lewd wrongs.De Gar.I will be rul'd, he shall live,And left to your revenge.Lug.I, I, I'le fit him:He makes a common scorn of handsome Women;Modesty, and good manners are his May-games:He takes up Maidenheads with a new Commission;The Church warrant's out of date: follow my Counsel,For I am zealous in the Cause.De Gar.I will, Sir;And will be still directed: for the truth isMy Sword will make my Sister seem more monstrous:Besides there is no honour won on Reprobates.Lug.You are i'th' right: The slight he has shew'd my Pupils,Sets me a fire too: go I'le prepare your Sister,And as I told ye.De Gar.Yes all shall be fit, Sir.Lug.And seriously, and handsomely.De Gar.I warrant ye.Lug.A little counsel more.De Gar.'Tis well.Lug.Most stately.See that observ'd; and then.De Gar.I have ye every way.Lug.Away then and be ready.De Gar.With all speed, Sir.[Exit.
De G.Iknowye are a Scholar, and can do wonders.
Lug.There's no great Scholarship belongs to this, Sir;What I am, I am; I pity your poor Sister,And heartily I hate these Travellers,These Gim-cracks, made of Mops, and Motions:There's nothing in their houses here but hummings;A Bee has more brains. I grieve, and vex tooThe insolent licentious carriageOf this out-facing fellow,Mirabell,And I am mad to see him prick his plumes up.
De Gar.His wrongs you partly know.
Lug.Do not you stir, Sir,Since he has begun with wit, let wit revenge it;Keep your sword close, we'll cut his throat a new way.I am asham'd the Gentlewoman should sufferSuch base lewd wrongs.
De Gar.I will be rul'd, he shall live,And left to your revenge.
Lug.I, I, I'le fit him:He makes a common scorn of handsome Women;Modesty, and good manners are his May-games:He takes up Maidenheads with a new Commission;The Church warrant's out of date: follow my Counsel,For I am zealous in the Cause.
De Gar.I will, Sir;And will be still directed: for the truth isMy Sword will make my Sister seem more monstrous:Besides there is no honour won on Reprobates.
Lug.You are i'th' right: The slight he has shew'd my Pupils,Sets me a fire too: go I'le prepare your Sister,And as I told ye.
De Gar.Yes all shall be fit, Sir.
Lug.And seriously, and handsomely.
De Gar.I warrant ye.
Lug.A little counsel more.
De Gar.'Tis well.
Lug.Most stately.See that observ'd; and then.
De Gar.I have ye every way.
Lug.Away then and be ready.
De Gar.With all speed, Sir.[Exit.
EnterLillia, Rosalure,andOriana.
Lug.We'll learn to travel too, may be beyond him.Good day, Fair beauties.Lil.You have beautified us.We thank ye, Sir, ye have set us off most gallantlyWith your grave precepts.Ros.We expected HusbandsOut of your Documents, and taught behaviours;Excellent Husbands, thought men would run stark mad on us,Men of all Ages, and all states: we expectedAn Inundation of desires, and offers,A Torrent of trim Suitors: all we did,Or said, or purpos'd to be Spells about us,Spells to provoke—Lil.Ye have provoke'd us finely,We follow'd your directions, we did rarely,We were Stately, Coy, Demure, Careless, Light, Giddy,And play'd at all points: This you swore would carry.Ros.We made Love, and contemn'd Love. Now seem'd holyWith such a reverent put-on ReservationWhich could not miss according to your Principles,Now gave more hope again. Now close, now publick,Still up and down, we beat it like a Billow;And ever those behaviours you read to us,Subtil, and new. But all this will not help us.Lil.They help to hinder us of all Acquaintance,They have frighted off all Friends: what am I betterFor all my Learning, if I love a Dunce,A handsome dunce? to what use serves my Reading?You should have taught me what belongs to Horses,Doggs, Dice, Hawks, Banquets, Masks, free and fair Meetings,To have studied Gowns and Dressings.Lug.Ye are not mad sure.Ros.We shall be if we follow your encouragements;I'le take mine own way now.Lil.And I my fortune:We may live Maids else till the Moon drop Mil-stones;I see your modest Women are taken for monsters,A Dowry of good breeding is worth nothing.Lug.Since ye take it so to th' heart, pray'ye give me leave yet,And ye shall see how I'le convert this Heretick;Mark how thisMirabell—Lil.Name him no more:For, though I long for a Husband, I hate him,And would be marryed sooner to a Monkey,Or to aJackof Straw, than such a Juggler.Ros.I am of that mind too; he is too nimble,And plays at fast and loose too learnedlyFor a plain-meaning Woman; that's the truth on't.Here's one too, that we love well, would be angry;And reason why: No, no, we will not trouble yeNor him, at this time: may he make you happy.We'll turn our selves loose now, to our fair fortunes,And the down-right way.Lil.The winning-way we'll follow,We'll bait, that men may bite fair, and not be frighted;Yet we'll not be carryed so cheap neither: we'll have some sport,Some mad-Morris or other for our mony, Tutor.Lug.'Tis like enough: prosper your own Devices;Ye are old enough to choose: But for this Gentlewoman,So please her, give me leave.Oria.I shall be glad, Sir,To find a friend, whose pity may direct me.Lug.I'le do my best, and faithfully deal for ye;But then ye must be ruled.Oria.In all, I vow to ye.Ros.Do, do: he has a lucky hand sometimes, I'le assure ye:And hunts the recovery of a lost Lover deadly.Lug.You must away straight.Oria.Yes.Lug.And I'le instruct ye:Here ye can know no more.Oria.By your leave, sweet Ladies,And all our Fortunes, arrive at our own wishes.Lil.Amen, Amen.Lug.I must borrow your man.Lil.'Pray take him;He is within: to do her good, take any thing,Take us, and all.Lug.No doubt ye may find Takers;And so we'll leave ye to your own disposes.[Exeunt.Lil.Now which way, Wench.Ros.We'll go a brave way; fear not:A safe, and sure way too: and yet a by-way,I must confess I have a great mind to be married.L[i]l.So have I too, a grudging of good-will that way;And would as fain be dispatch'd. But thisMonsieur Quicksilver.Ros.No, no: we'll bar him, by, and Main: Let him trample;There is no safety in his Surquedrie:An Army-Royal of women, are too few for him,He keeps a Journal of his Gentleness,And will go near to print his fair dispatches,And call it his triumph over time and women:Let him pass out of memory: what think yeOf his two Companions?Lil.Pinacmethinks is reasonable;A little modestie he has brought home with him,And might be taught in time some handsom duty.Ros.They say he is a wencher too.Lil.I like him better:A free light touch or two becomes a Gentleman,And sets him seemly off: so he exceed not,But keep his compass, clear he may be lookt at;I would not marry a man that must be taught,And conjur'd up with kisses; the best gameIs plaid still by the best Gamesters.Ros.Fie upon thee!What talk hast thou?Lil.Are not we alone, and merry?Why should we be asham'd to speak what we think? thyGentlemanThe tall fat fellow; he that came to see thee.Ros.Is't not a goodly man?Lil.A wondrous goodly!H'as weight enough I warrant thee: Mercy upon me;What a Serpent wilt thou seem under such a S.George.Ros.Thou art a fool; give me a man brings Mettle,Brings substance with him; needs no Broths to Lare him:These little fellows shew like Fleas in boxes,Hop up and down, and keep a stir to vex us;Give me the puissant Pike, take you the small shot.Lil.Of a great thing I have not seen a duller,Therefore methinks, sweet Sister—Ros.Peace: he's modest:A bashfulness, which is a point of grace, wench:But when these fellows come to moulding, Sister,To heat, and handling: as I live, I like him;
Lug.We'll learn to travel too, may be beyond him.Good day, Fair beauties.
Lil.You have beautified us.We thank ye, Sir, ye have set us off most gallantlyWith your grave precepts.
Ros.We expected HusbandsOut of your Documents, and taught behaviours;Excellent Husbands, thought men would run stark mad on us,Men of all Ages, and all states: we expectedAn Inundation of desires, and offers,A Torrent of trim Suitors: all we did,Or said, or purpos'd to be Spells about us,Spells to provoke—
Lil.Ye have provoke'd us finely,We follow'd your directions, we did rarely,We were Stately, Coy, Demure, Careless, Light, Giddy,And play'd at all points: This you swore would carry.
Ros.We made Love, and contemn'd Love. Now seem'd holyWith such a reverent put-on ReservationWhich could not miss according to your Principles,Now gave more hope again. Now close, now publick,Still up and down, we beat it like a Billow;And ever those behaviours you read to us,Subtil, and new. But all this will not help us.
Lil.They help to hinder us of all Acquaintance,They have frighted off all Friends: what am I betterFor all my Learning, if I love a Dunce,A handsome dunce? to what use serves my Reading?You should have taught me what belongs to Horses,Doggs, Dice, Hawks, Banquets, Masks, free and fair Meetings,To have studied Gowns and Dressings.
Lug.Ye are not mad sure.
Ros.We shall be if we follow your encouragements;I'le take mine own way now.
Lil.And I my fortune:We may live Maids else till the Moon drop Mil-stones;I see your modest Women are taken for monsters,A Dowry of good breeding is worth nothing.
Lug.Since ye take it so to th' heart, pray'ye give me leave yet,And ye shall see how I'le convert this Heretick;Mark how thisMirabell—
Lil.Name him no more:For, though I long for a Husband, I hate him,And would be marryed sooner to a Monkey,Or to aJackof Straw, than such a Juggler.
Ros.I am of that mind too; he is too nimble,And plays at fast and loose too learnedlyFor a plain-meaning Woman; that's the truth on't.Here's one too, that we love well, would be angry;And reason why: No, no, we will not trouble yeNor him, at this time: may he make you happy.We'll turn our selves loose now, to our fair fortunes,And the down-right way.
Lil.The winning-way we'll follow,We'll bait, that men may bite fair, and not be frighted;Yet we'll not be carryed so cheap neither: we'll have some sport,Some mad-Morris or other for our mony, Tutor.
Lug.'Tis like enough: prosper your own Devices;Ye are old enough to choose: But for this Gentlewoman,So please her, give me leave.
Oria.I shall be glad, Sir,To find a friend, whose pity may direct me.
Lug.I'le do my best, and faithfully deal for ye;But then ye must be ruled.
Oria.In all, I vow to ye.
Ros.Do, do: he has a lucky hand sometimes, I'le assure ye:And hunts the recovery of a lost Lover deadly.
Lug.You must away straight.
Oria.Yes.
Lug.And I'le instruct ye:Here ye can know no more.
Oria.By your leave, sweet Ladies,And all our Fortunes, arrive at our own wishes.
Lil.Amen, Amen.
Lug.I must borrow your man.
Lil.'Pray take him;He is within: to do her good, take any thing,Take us, and all.
Lug.No doubt ye may find Takers;And so we'll leave ye to your own disposes.[Exeunt.
Lil.Now which way, Wench.
Ros.We'll go a brave way; fear not:A safe, and sure way too: and yet a by-way,I must confess I have a great mind to be married.
L[i]l.So have I too, a grudging of good-will that way;And would as fain be dispatch'd. But thisMonsieur Quicksilver.
Ros.No, no: we'll bar him, by, and Main: Let him trample;There is no safety in his Surquedrie:An Army-Royal of women, are too few for him,He keeps a Journal of his Gentleness,And will go near to print his fair dispatches,And call it his triumph over time and women:Let him pass out of memory: what think yeOf his two Companions?
Lil.Pinacmethinks is reasonable;A little modestie he has brought home with him,And might be taught in time some handsom duty.
Ros.They say he is a wencher too.
Lil.I like him better:A free light touch or two becomes a Gentleman,And sets him seemly off: so he exceed not,But keep his compass, clear he may be lookt at;I would not marry a man that must be taught,And conjur'd up with kisses; the best gameIs plaid still by the best Gamesters.
Ros.Fie upon thee!What talk hast thou?
Lil.Are not we alone, and merry?Why should we be asham'd to speak what we think? thyGentlemanThe tall fat fellow; he that came to see thee.
Ros.Is't not a goodly man?
Lil.A wondrous goodly!H'as weight enough I warrant thee: Mercy upon me;What a Serpent wilt thou seem under such a S.George.
Ros.Thou art a fool; give me a man brings Mettle,Brings substance with him; needs no Broths to Lare him:These little fellows shew like Fleas in boxes,Hop up and down, and keep a stir to vex us;Give me the puissant Pike, take you the small shot.
Lil.Of a great thing I have not seen a duller,Therefore methinks, sweet Sister—
Ros.Peace: he's modest:A bashfulness, which is a point of grace, wench:But when these fellows come to moulding, Sister,To heat, and handling: as I live, I like him;
EnterMirabel.
And methinks I could form him.Lil.Peace: the Fire-drake.Mir.'Bless ye sweet beauties: sweet incomparable Ladies:Sweet wits: sweet humours: 'Bless you, learned Lady,And you, most holy Nun; 'Bless your Devotions.Lil.And 'bless your brains, Sir, your most pregnant brains, Sir,They are in Trav[ail], may they be deliveredOf a most hopeful Wild-Goose.Ros.'Bless your manhood:They say ye are a Gentleman of action,A fair accomplish'd man; and a rare Engineer,You have a trick to blow up Maidenheads,A subtle trick, they say abroad.Mir.I have Lady.Ros.And often glory in their Ruines.Mir.Yes forsooth;I have a speedy trick: please you to try it:My Engine will dispatch ye instantly.Ros.I would I were a woman, Sir, fit for ye,As there be such, no doubt, may Engine you too;May with a Counter-mine blow up your valour:But in good faith, Sir, we are both too honest:And the plague is, we can not be perswaded:For, look ye: if we thought it were a gloryTo be the last of all your lovely Ladies.Mir.Come, come; leave prating: this has spoil'd your Market;This pride, and pufft-up heart, will make ye fast, Ladies,Fast, when ye are hungry too.Ros.The more our pain, Sir.Lil.The more our health, I hope too.Mir.Your behavioursHave made men stand amaz'd; those men that lov'd ye;Men of fair States and parts; your strange conventionsInto I know not what, nor how, nor wherefore;Your scorns of those that came to visit ye;Your studied Whim-whams; and your fine set faces:What have these got ye? proud, and harsh opinions:A Travel'd-Monsieur, was the strangest Creature,The wildest Monster to be wondred at:His Person made a publique Scoff, his knowledge,(As if he had been bred 'mongst Bears or Bandoggs)Shunn'd and avoided: his conversation snuft at.What Harvest brings all this?Ros.I pray ye proceed, Sir.Mir.Now ye shall see in what esteem a Traveller,An understanding Gentleman, and a MonsieurIs to be held, and to your griefs confess it,Both to your griefs, and galls.Lil.In what I pray ye, Sir?We would be glad to understand your excellence.Mir.Goe on, (sweet Ladies) it becomes ye rarely.For me, I have blest me from ye, scoff on seriously,And note the Man ye mock'd: you, (Lady Learning)Note the poor Traveller, that came to visit ye,That flat unfurnish'd fellow: note him throughly,You may chance to see him anon.Lil.'Tis very likely.Mir.And see him Courted by a Travell'd Lady,Held dear, and honour'd by a vertuous virgin,May be a Beautie, not far short of yours, neitherIt may be, clearer.Lil.Not unlikely.Mir.Younger:As killing eyes as yours: a wit as poynantMay be, a State to that may top your Fortune;Enquire how she thinks of him, how she holds him;His good parts; in what precious price already;Being a stranger to him, how she courts him;A stranger to his Nation too, how she dotes on him:Enquire of this; be sick to know: Curse, Lady,And keep your chamber: cry, and curse: a sweet one,A thousand in yearly land; well bred; well friended:Travell'd, and highly followed for her fashions.Lil.'Bless his good fortune, Sir.Mir.This scurvy fellow;I think they call his namePinac; this serving-manThat brought ye Venison, as I take it, Madam;Note but this Scab; 'tis strange that this course creature,That has no more set off, but his jugglings,His travell'd tricks.Lil.Good, Sir, I grieve not at him,Nor envy not his fortune: yet I wonder,He's handsom; yet I see no such perfection.Mir.Would I had his fortune: for 'tis a womanOf that sweet temper'd nature, and that judgment,Besides her state, that care, clear understanding,And such a wife to bless him.Ros.Pray ye whence is she?Mir.OfEngland, and a most accomplish'd Lady,So modest that mens eyes are frighted at her,And such a noble carriage. How now Sirrah?
And methinks I could form him.
Lil.Peace: the Fire-drake.
Mir.'Bless ye sweet beauties: sweet incomparable Ladies:Sweet wits: sweet humours: 'Bless you, learned Lady,And you, most holy Nun; 'Bless your Devotions.
Lil.And 'bless your brains, Sir, your most pregnant brains, Sir,They are in Trav[ail], may they be deliveredOf a most hopeful Wild-Goose.
Ros.'Bless your manhood:They say ye are a Gentleman of action,A fair accomplish'd man; and a rare Engineer,You have a trick to blow up Maidenheads,A subtle trick, they say abroad.
Mir.I have Lady.
Ros.And often glory in their Ruines.
Mir.Yes forsooth;I have a speedy trick: please you to try it:My Engine will dispatch ye instantly.
Ros.I would I were a woman, Sir, fit for ye,As there be such, no doubt, may Engine you too;May with a Counter-mine blow up your valour:But in good faith, Sir, we are both too honest:And the plague is, we can not be perswaded:For, look ye: if we thought it were a gloryTo be the last of all your lovely Ladies.
Mir.Come, come; leave prating: this has spoil'd your Market;This pride, and pufft-up heart, will make ye fast, Ladies,Fast, when ye are hungry too.
Ros.The more our pain, Sir.
Lil.The more our health, I hope too.
Mir.Your behavioursHave made men stand amaz'd; those men that lov'd ye;Men of fair States and parts; your strange conventionsInto I know not what, nor how, nor wherefore;Your scorns of those that came to visit ye;Your studied Whim-whams; and your fine set faces:What have these got ye? proud, and harsh opinions:A Travel'd-Monsieur, was the strangest Creature,The wildest Monster to be wondred at:His Person made a publique Scoff, his knowledge,(As if he had been bred 'mongst Bears or Bandoggs)Shunn'd and avoided: his conversation snuft at.What Harvest brings all this?
Ros.I pray ye proceed, Sir.
Mir.Now ye shall see in what esteem a Traveller,An understanding Gentleman, and a MonsieurIs to be held, and to your griefs confess it,Both to your griefs, and galls.
Lil.In what I pray ye, Sir?We would be glad to understand your excellence.
Mir.Goe on, (sweet Ladies) it becomes ye rarely.For me, I have blest me from ye, scoff on seriously,And note the Man ye mock'd: you, (Lady Learning)Note the poor Traveller, that came to visit ye,That flat unfurnish'd fellow: note him throughly,You may chance to see him anon.
Lil.'Tis very likely.
Mir.And see him Courted by a Travell'd Lady,Held dear, and honour'd by a vertuous virgin,May be a Beautie, not far short of yours, neitherIt may be, clearer.
Lil.Not unlikely.
Mir.Younger:As killing eyes as yours: a wit as poynantMay be, a State to that may top your Fortune;Enquire how she thinks of him, how she holds him;His good parts; in what precious price already;Being a stranger to him, how she courts him;A stranger to his Nation too, how she dotes on him:Enquire of this; be sick to know: Curse, Lady,And keep your chamber: cry, and curse: a sweet one,A thousand in yearly land; well bred; well friended:Travell'd, and highly followed for her fashions.
Lil.'Bless his good fortune, Sir.
Mir.This scurvy fellow;I think they call his namePinac; this serving-manThat brought ye Venison, as I take it, Madam;Note but this Scab; 'tis strange that this course creature,That has no more set off, but his jugglings,His travell'd tricks.
Lil.Good, Sir, I grieve not at him,Nor envy not his fortune: yet I wonder,He's handsom; yet I see no such perfection.
Mir.Would I had his fortune: for 'tis a womanOf that sweet temper'd nature, and that judgment,Besides her state, that care, clear understanding,And such a wife to bless him.
Ros.Pray ye whence is she?
Mir.OfEngland, and a most accomplish'd Lady,So modest that mens eyes are frighted at her,And such a noble carriage. How now Sirrah?
Enter aBoy.
Boy.Sir, the great English Lady.Mir.What of her, Sir?Boy.Has newly left her coach, and coming this way,Where you may see her plain: MonsieurPinac,The only man that leads her.
Boy.Sir, the great English Lady.
Mir.What of her, Sir?
Boy.Has newly left her coach, and coming this way,Where you may see her plain: MonsieurPinac,The only man that leads her.
EnterPinac, Mariana,and Attendants.
Mir.He is much honored;Would I had such a favour: now vex Ladies,Envy, and vex, and rail.Ros.Ye are short of us, Sir.Mir.'Bless your fair fortune, Sir.Pi.I nobly thank ye.Mir.Is she married, friend?Pi.No, no.Mir.A goodly Lady;A sweet and delicate aspect: mark, mark, and wonder!Hast thou any hope of her?Pi.A little.Mir.Follow close then:Lose not that hope.Pi.To you, Sir.Mir.Gentle Lady.Ros.She is fair indeed.Lil.I have seen a fairer, yetShe is well.Ros.Her clothes sit handsom too.Lil.She dresses prettily.Ros.And by my faith she is rich, she looks still sweeter.A well bred woman, I warrant her.Lil.Do you hear, Sir;May I crave this Gentlewomans name?Pi.Mariana, Lady.Lil.I will not say I ow ye a quarel MonsieurFor making me your Stale: a noble GentlemanWould have had more courtesie; at least, more faith,Than to turn off his Mistris at first trial:You know not what respect I might have shew'd ye;I find ye have worth.Pi.I cannot stay to answer ye;Ye see my charge: I am beholding to yeFor all your merry tricks ye put upon me,Your bobs, and base accounts: I came to love ye,To wooe ye, and to serve ye; I am much indebted to yeFor dancing me off my legs; and then for walking me;For telling me strange tales I never heard of,More to abuse me; for mistaking me,When ye both knew I was a Gentleman,And one deserv'd as rich a match as you are.Lil.Be not so bitter, Sir.Pi.You see this Lady:She is young enough, and fair enough to please me,A woman of a loving mind, a quiet,And one that weighs the worth of him that loves her,I am content with this, and bless my fortune,Your curious Wits, and Beauties.Lil.Faith see me once more.Pi.I dare not trouble ye.Lil.May I speak to your Lady?Pi.I pray ye content your self: I know ye are bitter,And in your bitterness, ye may abuse her;Which if she comes to know, (for she understands ye not)It may breed such a quarrel to your kindred,And such an indiscretion fling on you too;For she is nobly friended.Lil.I could eat her.Pi.Rest as ye are, a modest noble Gentlewoman,And afford your honest neighbours some of your prayers.[Exit.Mir.What think you now?Lil.Faith she's a pretty Whiting;She has got a pretty catch too.Mir.You are angry;Monstrous angry now; grievously angry;And the pretty heart does swell now.Lil.No in troth, Sir.Mir.And it will cry anon; a pox upon it:And it will curse it self: and eat no meat, Lady;And it will fight.Lil.Indeed you are mistaken;It will be very merry.Ros.Why, Sir, do you thinkThere are no more men living, nor no handsomerThan he, or you, By this light there be ten thousand?Ten thousand thousand: comfort your self, dear Monsieur,Faces, and bodies, Wits, and all AbilimentsThere are so many we regard 'em not.
Mir.He is much honored;Would I had such a favour: now vex Ladies,Envy, and vex, and rail.
Ros.Ye are short of us, Sir.
Mir.'Bless your fair fortune, Sir.
Pi.I nobly thank ye.
Mir.Is she married, friend?
Pi.No, no.
Mir.A goodly Lady;A sweet and delicate aspect: mark, mark, and wonder!Hast thou any hope of her?
Pi.A little.
Mir.Follow close then:Lose not that hope.
Pi.To you, Sir.
Mir.Gentle Lady.
Ros.She is fair indeed.
Lil.I have seen a fairer, yetShe is well.
Ros.Her clothes sit handsom too.
Lil.She dresses prettily.
Ros.And by my faith she is rich, she looks still sweeter.A well bred woman, I warrant her.
Lil.Do you hear, Sir;May I crave this Gentlewomans name?
Pi.Mariana, Lady.
Lil.I will not say I ow ye a quarel MonsieurFor making me your Stale: a noble GentlemanWould have had more courtesie; at least, more faith,Than to turn off his Mistris at first trial:You know not what respect I might have shew'd ye;I find ye have worth.
Pi.I cannot stay to answer ye;Ye see my charge: I am beholding to yeFor all your merry tricks ye put upon me,Your bobs, and base accounts: I came to love ye,To wooe ye, and to serve ye; I am much indebted to yeFor dancing me off my legs; and then for walking me;For telling me strange tales I never heard of,More to abuse me; for mistaking me,When ye both knew I was a Gentleman,And one deserv'd as rich a match as you are.
Lil.Be not so bitter, Sir.
Pi.You see this Lady:She is young enough, and fair enough to please me,A woman of a loving mind, a quiet,And one that weighs the worth of him that loves her,I am content with this, and bless my fortune,Your curious Wits, and Beauties.
Lil.Faith see me once more.
Pi.I dare not trouble ye.
Lil.May I speak to your Lady?
Pi.I pray ye content your self: I know ye are bitter,And in your bitterness, ye may abuse her;Which if she comes to know, (for she understands ye not)It may breed such a quarrel to your kindred,And such an indiscretion fling on you too;For she is nobly friended.
Lil.I could eat her.
Pi.Rest as ye are, a modest noble Gentlewoman,And afford your honest neighbours some of your prayers.[Exit.
Mir.What think you now?
Lil.Faith she's a pretty Whiting;She has got a pretty catch too.
Mir.You are angry;Monstrous angry now; grievously angry;And the pretty heart does swell now.
Lil.No in troth, Sir.
Mir.And it will cry anon; a pox upon it:And it will curse it self: and eat no meat, Lady;And it will fight.
Lil.Indeed you are mistaken;It will be very merry.
Ros.Why, Sir, do you thinkThere are no more men living, nor no handsomerThan he, or you, By this light there be ten thousand?Ten thousand thousand: comfort your self, dear Monsieur,Faces, and bodies, Wits, and all AbilimentsThere are so many we regard 'em not.
EnterBelleur,and two Gentlemen.
Mir.That such a noble Lady, I could burst now,So far above such trifles?Bel.You did laugh at me,And I know why ye laughed.1 Gent.I pray ye be satisfied;If we did laugh, we had some private reason,And not at you.2 Gent.Alas, we know you not, Sir.Bel.I'le make you know me; set your faces soberly;Stand this way, and look sad; I'le be no May-game;Sadder; demurer yet.Ros.What's the matter?What ails this Gentleman?Bel.Go off now backward, that I may behold ye;And not a simper on your lives.Lil.He's mad sure.Bel.Do you observe me too?Mir.I may look on ye.Bel.Why do you grin? I know your minde.Mir.You do not,You are strangely humorous: is there no mirth, nor pleasure,But you must be the object?Bel.Mark, and observe me;Where ever I am nam'd;The very word shall raise a general sadness,For the disgrace this scurvy woman did me;This proud pert thing; take heed ye laugh not at me;Provoke me not, take heed.Ros.I would fain please ye;Do any thing to keep ye quiet.Bel.Hear me,Till I receive a satisfactionEqual to the disgrace, and scorn ye gave me:Ye are a wretched woman; till thou woo'st me,And I scorn thee asmuch, as seriouslyJear, and abuse thee; ask what Gill thou art;Or any baser name; I will proclaim thee;I will so sing thy vertue; so be-paint thee.Ros.Nay, good Sir, be more modest.Bel.Do you laugh again?Because ye are a woman ye are lawless,And out of compass of an honest anger.Ros.Good Sir, have a better belief of me.Lil.Away dear Sister.[Exit.Mir.Is not this better now, this seeming madness,Than falling out with your friends?Bel.Have I not frighted her?Mir.Into her right wits, I warrant thee: follow this humor,And thou shalt see how prosperously 'twill guide thee.Bel.I am glad I have found a way to woo yet, I was afraid onceI never should have made a civil Suiter.Well, I'le about it still.[Exit.Mir.Do, do, and prosper.What sport do I make with these fools! What pleasureFeeds me, and fats my sides at their poor innocence!
Mir.That such a noble Lady, I could burst now,So far above such trifles?
Bel.You did laugh at me,And I know why ye laughed.
1 Gent.I pray ye be satisfied;If we did laugh, we had some private reason,And not at you.
2 Gent.Alas, we know you not, Sir.
Bel.I'le make you know me; set your faces soberly;Stand this way, and look sad; I'le be no May-game;Sadder; demurer yet.
Ros.What's the matter?What ails this Gentleman?
Bel.Go off now backward, that I may behold ye;And not a simper on your lives.
Lil.He's mad sure.
Bel.Do you observe me too?
Mir.I may look on ye.
Bel.Why do you grin? I know your minde.
Mir.You do not,You are strangely humorous: is there no mirth, nor pleasure,But you must be the object?
Bel.Mark, and observe me;Where ever I am nam'd;The very word shall raise a general sadness,For the disgrace this scurvy woman did me;This proud pert thing; take heed ye laugh not at me;Provoke me not, take heed.
Ros.I would fain please ye;Do any thing to keep ye quiet.
Bel.Hear me,Till I receive a satisfactionEqual to the disgrace, and scorn ye gave me:Ye are a wretched woman; till thou woo'st me,And I scorn thee asmuch, as seriouslyJear, and abuse thee; ask what Gill thou art;Or any baser name; I will proclaim thee;I will so sing thy vertue; so be-paint thee.
Ros.Nay, good Sir, be more modest.
Bel.Do you laugh again?Because ye are a woman ye are lawless,And out of compass of an honest anger.
Ros.Good Sir, have a better belief of me.
Lil.Away dear Sister.[Exit.
Mir.Is not this better now, this seeming madness,Than falling out with your friends?
Bel.Have I not frighted her?
Mir.Into her right wits, I warrant thee: follow this humor,And thou shalt see how prosperously 'twill guide thee.
Bel.I am glad I have found a way to woo yet, I was afraid onceI never should have made a civil Suiter.Well, I'le about it still.[Exit.
Mir.Do, do, and prosper.What sport do I make with these fools! What pleasureFeeds me, and fats my sides at their poor innocence!
EnterLeverduce,aliasLugier,Mr.Illiard.
Wooing and wiving, hang it: give me mirth,Witty and dainty mirth: I shall grow in love sureWith mine own happy head. Who's this? To me, Sir?What youth is this?Lev.Yes, Sir, I would speak with you,If your name be MonsieurMirabel.Mir.Ye have hit it,Your business, I beseech ye?Lev.This it is, Sir,There is a Gentlewoman hath long time affected ye,And lov'd ye dearly.Mir.Turn over, and end that story,'Tis long enough: I have no faith in women, Sir.Lev.It seems so, Sir: I do not come to woo for her,Or sing her praises, though she well deserve 'em,I come to tell ye, ye have been cruel to her,Unkind and cruel, falser of faith, and careless,Taking more pleasure in abusing her,Wresting her honour to your wild disposes,Than noble in requiting her affection:Which, as ye are a man, I must desire ye(A Gentleman of rank) not to persist in,No more to load her fair name with your injuries.Mir.Why, I beseech ye, Sir?Lev.Good Sir, I'le tell ye,And I'le be short: I'le tell ye, because I love ye,Because I would have you shun the shame may follow:There is a noble man, new come to Town, Sir,A noble and a great man that affects her,A Cou[n]trey-man of mine, a braveSavoyan,Nephew to th'Duke, and so much honours her,That 'twill be dangerous to pursue your old way,To touch at any thing concerns her honour,Believe, most dangerous: her name isOriana,And this great man will marry her: take heed, Sir;For howsoe'r her Brother, a staid Gentleman,Lets things pass upon better hopes, this Lord, Sir,Is of that fiery, and that poynant metal,(Especially provok'd on by affection)That 'twill be hard: but you are wise.Mir.A Lord, Sir?Lev.Yes, and a noble Lord.Mir.'Send her good fortune,This will not stir her Lord; a Barronness,Say ye so; say ye so? by'r Lady, a brave title;Top, and top gallant now; 'save her great Ladiship.I was a poor servant of hers, I must confess, Sir,And in those daies, I thought I might be jovy,And make a little bold to call into her:But Basto, now; I know my rules and distance;Yet, if she want an Usher; such an implement;One that is throughly pac'd; a clean made Gentleman;Can hold a hanging up; with approbationPlant his hat formally, and wait with patienceI do beseech you, Sir.Lev.Sir, leave your scoffing;And as ye are a Gentleman, deal fairly:I have given ye a friends counsel, so I'le leave ye.Mir.But hark ye, hark ye, Sir; is't possibleI may believe what you say?Lev.You may chuse, Sir.Mir.No Baits? No Fish-hooks, Sir? No Gins? No Nooses?No Pitfals to catch Puppies?Lev.I tell ye certain;You may believe; if not, stand to the danger.[Exeunt.Mir.A Lord ofSavoysaies he? The Dukes Nephew?A man so mighty? By 'Lady a fair marriage;By my faith, a handsom fortune: I must leave prating;For to confess the truth, I have abused her,For which I should be sorry, but that will seem scurvy;I must confess, she was ever since I knew herAs modest, as she was fair: I am sure she lov'd me;Her means good; and her breeding excellent;And for my sake she has refus'd fair matches:I may play the fool finely. Stay who are these?
Wooing and wiving, hang it: give me mirth,Witty and dainty mirth: I shall grow in love sureWith mine own happy head. Who's this? To me, Sir?What youth is this?
Lev.Yes, Sir, I would speak with you,If your name be MonsieurMirabel.
Mir.Ye have hit it,Your business, I beseech ye?
Lev.This it is, Sir,There is a Gentlewoman hath long time affected ye,And lov'd ye dearly.
Mir.Turn over, and end that story,'Tis long enough: I have no faith in women, Sir.
Lev.It seems so, Sir: I do not come to woo for her,Or sing her praises, though she well deserve 'em,I come to tell ye, ye have been cruel to her,Unkind and cruel, falser of faith, and careless,Taking more pleasure in abusing her,Wresting her honour to your wild disposes,Than noble in requiting her affection:Which, as ye are a man, I must desire ye(A Gentleman of rank) not to persist in,No more to load her fair name with your injuries.
Mir.Why, I beseech ye, Sir?
Lev.Good Sir, I'le tell ye,And I'le be short: I'le tell ye, because I love ye,Because I would have you shun the shame may follow:There is a noble man, new come to Town, Sir,A noble and a great man that affects her,A Cou[n]trey-man of mine, a braveSavoyan,Nephew to th'Duke, and so much honours her,That 'twill be dangerous to pursue your old way,To touch at any thing concerns her honour,Believe, most dangerous: her name isOriana,And this great man will marry her: take heed, Sir;For howsoe'r her Brother, a staid Gentleman,Lets things pass upon better hopes, this Lord, Sir,Is of that fiery, and that poynant metal,(Especially provok'd on by affection)That 'twill be hard: but you are wise.
Mir.A Lord, Sir?
Lev.Yes, and a noble Lord.
Mir.'Send her good fortune,This will not stir her Lord; a Barronness,Say ye so; say ye so? by'r Lady, a brave title;Top, and top gallant now; 'save her great Ladiship.I was a poor servant of hers, I must confess, Sir,And in those daies, I thought I might be jovy,And make a little bold to call into her:But Basto, now; I know my rules and distance;Yet, if she want an Usher; such an implement;One that is throughly pac'd; a clean made Gentleman;Can hold a hanging up; with approbationPlant his hat formally, and wait with patienceI do beseech you, Sir.
Lev.Sir, leave your scoffing;And as ye are a Gentleman, deal fairly:I have given ye a friends counsel, so I'le leave ye.
Mir.But hark ye, hark ye, Sir; is't possibleI may believe what you say?
Lev.You may chuse, Sir.
Mir.No Baits? No Fish-hooks, Sir? No Gins? No Nooses?No Pitfals to catch Puppies?
Lev.I tell ye certain;You may believe; if not, stand to the danger.[Exeunt.
Mir.A Lord ofSavoysaies he? The Dukes Nephew?A man so mighty? By 'Lady a fair marriage;By my faith, a handsom fortune: I must leave prating;For to confess the truth, I have abused her,For which I should be sorry, but that will seem scurvy;I must confess, she was ever since I knew herAs modest, as she was fair: I am sure she lov'd me;Her means good; and her breeding excellent;And for my sake she has refus'd fair matches:I may play the fool finely. Stay who are these?
EnterDe-Gard, Oriana,and Attendants.
'Tis she, I am sure; and that the Lord it should seem,He carries a fair Port; is a handsom man too:I do begin to feel, I am a Coxcomb.Ori.Good my Lord, chuse a nobler: for I knowI am so far below your rank and honour,That what ye can say this way, I must creditBut spoken to beget your self sport: Alas, Sir,I am so far off from deserving you,My beauty so unfit for your Affection,That I am grown the scorn of common Railers,Of such injurious things, that when they cannotReach at my person, lie with my reputation:I am poor besides.de-Ga.Ye are all wealth and goodness;And none but such as are the scum of men,The Ulcers of an honest state; Spight-weavers,That live on poyson only, like swoln spiders,Dare once profane such excellence, such sweetness.Mir.This man speaks loud indeed.de-Ga.Name but the men, Lady;Let me but know these poor, and base depravers;Lay but to my revenge their persons open,And you shall see how suddenly, how fullyFor your most beauteous sake, how direfullyI'le handle their despights. Is this thing one?Be what he will.Mir.Sir.de-Ga.Dare your malicious tongue, Sir?Mir.I know you not; nor what you mean.Ori.Good my Lord.de-Ga.If he, or any he.Ori.I beseech your honour.This Gentleman's a stranger to my knowledge,And no doubt, Sir, a worthy man.de-Ga.Your mercy;But had he been a tainter of your honour;A blaster of those beauties raign within ye;But we shall find a fitter time: dear Lady,As soon as I have freed ye from your Guardian,And done some honour'd offices unto ye,I'le take ye with those faults the world flings on ye;And dearer than the whole world I'le esteem ye.[Exeunt.Mir.This is a thundring Lord; I am glad I scap'd him:How lovingly the wench disclaim'd my villany!I am vext now heartily that he shall have her;Not that I care to marry, or to lose her;But that this Bilbo-Lord shall reap that Maiden-headThat was my due; that he shall rig and top her;I'de give a thousand Crowns now, he might miss her.
'Tis she, I am sure; and that the Lord it should seem,He carries a fair Port; is a handsom man too:I do begin to feel, I am a Coxcomb.
Ori.Good my Lord, chuse a nobler: for I knowI am so far below your rank and honour,That what ye can say this way, I must creditBut spoken to beget your self sport: Alas, Sir,I am so far off from deserving you,My beauty so unfit for your Affection,That I am grown the scorn of common Railers,Of such injurious things, that when they cannotReach at my person, lie with my reputation:I am poor besides.
de-Ga.Ye are all wealth and goodness;And none but such as are the scum of men,The Ulcers of an honest state; Spight-weavers,That live on poyson only, like swoln spiders,Dare once profane such excellence, such sweetness.
Mir.This man speaks loud indeed.
de-Ga.Name but the men, Lady;Let me but know these poor, and base depravers;Lay but to my revenge their persons open,And you shall see how suddenly, how fullyFor your most beauteous sake, how direfullyI'le handle their despights. Is this thing one?Be what he will.
Mir.Sir.
de-Ga.Dare your malicious tongue, Sir?
Mir.I know you not; nor what you mean.
Ori.Good my Lord.
de-Ga.If he, or any he.
Ori.I beseech your honour.This Gentleman's a stranger to my knowledge,And no doubt, Sir, a worthy man.
de-Ga.Your mercy;But had he been a tainter of your honour;A blaster of those beauties raign within ye;But we shall find a fitter time: dear Lady,As soon as I have freed ye from your Guardian,And done some honour'd offices unto ye,I'le take ye with those faults the world flings on ye;And dearer than the whole world I'le esteem ye.[Exeunt.
Mir.This is a thundring Lord; I am glad I scap'd him:How lovingly the wench disclaim'd my villany!I am vext now heartily that he shall have her;Not that I care to marry, or to lose her;But that this Bilbo-Lord shall reap that Maiden-headThat was my due; that he shall rig and top her;I'de give a thousand Crowns now, he might miss her.
Enter a Servant.
Ser.Nay, if I bear your blows, and keep your counsel,You have good luck, Sir; I'le teach ye to strike lighter.Mir.Come hither, honest fellow; canst thou tell meWhere this great Lord lies? ThisSavoyLord? Thou met'st him;He now went by thee certain.Ser.Yes, he did, Sir;I know him; and I know you are fool'd.Mir.Come hither,Here's all this, give me truth.S[e]r.Not for your mony;(And yet that may do much) but I have been beaten:And by the worshipfull Contrivers beaten, and I'le tell ye;This is no Lord, noSavoyLord.Mir.Go forward.Ser.This is a Trick, and put upon ye groslyBy oneLugier; the Lord is Monsieurde-Gard, Sir;An honest Gentleman, and a neighbour here;Their ends you understand better than I, sure.Mir.Now I know him.Know him now plain.Ser.I have discharg'd my colours; so God b'y ye, sir.[Exit.Mir.What a purblinde Puppy was I; now I remember him.All the whole cast on's face, though 'twere umber'd,And mask'd with patches: what a dunder-whelpTo let him domineer thus: how he strutted,And what a load of Lord he clapt upon him!Would I had him here again, I would so bounce him,I would so thank his Lordship for his lewd plot:Do they think to carry it away, with a great band made of bird-pots,And a pair of pin-buttockt breeches? Ha! 'Tis he again.He comes, he comes, he comes; have at him.
Ser.Nay, if I bear your blows, and keep your counsel,You have good luck, Sir; I'le teach ye to strike lighter.
Mir.Come hither, honest fellow; canst thou tell meWhere this great Lord lies? ThisSavoyLord? Thou met'st him;He now went by thee certain.
Ser.Yes, he did, Sir;I know him; and I know you are fool'd.
Mir.Come hither,Here's all this, give me truth.
S[e]r.Not for your mony;(And yet that may do much) but I have been beaten:And by the worshipfull Contrivers beaten, and I'le tell ye;This is no Lord, noSavoyLord.
Mir.Go forward.
Ser.This is a Trick, and put upon ye groslyBy oneLugier; the Lord is Monsieurde-Gard, Sir;An honest Gentleman, and a neighbour here;Their ends you understand better than I, sure.
Mir.Now I know him.Know him now plain.
Ser.I have discharg'd my colours; so God b'y ye, sir.[Exit.
Mir.What a purblinde Puppy was I; now I remember him.All the whole cast on's face, though 'twere umber'd,And mask'd with patches: what a dunder-whelpTo let him domineer thus: how he strutted,And what a load of Lord he clapt upon him!Would I had him here again, I would so bounce him,I would so thank his Lordship for his lewd plot:Do they think to carry it away, with a great band made of bird-pots,And a pair of pin-buttockt breeches? Ha! 'Tis he again.He comes, he comes, he comes; have at him.
Enterde-Gard, Oriana,&c.
Sings.MySavoyLord, why dost thou frown on me?And will that favour never sweeter be?Wilt thou I say, for ever play the fool?de-Gardbe wise, andSavoygo to School.My Lordde-Gard, I thank ye for your Antick;My Lady bright, that will be sometimes Frantick;You worthy Train, that wait upon this Pair,'Send you more wit, and they a bouncing BaireAnd so I take my humble leave of your honours.[Exit.de-Ga.We are discover'd, there's no remedyLilia Biancha's man upon my life,In stubbornness, becauseLugiercorrected him.(A shameless slaves plague on him for a Rascal.)Ori.I was in a perfect hope; the bane on't is now,He will make mirth on mirth, to persecute us.de-Ga.We must be patient; I am vext to the proof too,I'le try once more; then if I fail: Here's one speaks.Ori.Let me be lost, and scorn'd first.de-Ga.Well, we'll consider,Away, and let me shift; I shall be hooted else.[Exeunt.
Sings.MySavoyLord, why dost thou frown on me?And will that favour never sweeter be?Wilt thou I say, for ever play the fool?de-Gardbe wise, andSavoygo to School.My Lordde-Gard, I thank ye for your Antick;My Lady bright, that will be sometimes Frantick;You worthy Train, that wait upon this Pair,'Send you more wit, and they a bouncing BaireAnd so I take my humble leave of your honours.[Exit.
de-Ga.We are discover'd, there's no remedyLilia Biancha's man upon my life,In stubbornness, becauseLugiercorrected him.(A shameless slaves plague on him for a Rascal.)
Ori.I was in a perfect hope; the bane on't is now,He will make mirth on mirth, to persecute us.
de-Ga.We must be patient; I am vext to the proof too,I'le try once more; then if I fail: Here's one speaks.
Ori.Let me be lost, and scorn'd first.
de-Ga.Well, we'll consider,Away, and let me shift; I shall be hooted else.[Exeunt.