Unc.It must needs greedily, for all his friends have flung him off, he is naked, and where to skin himself again, if I know, or can devise how he should get himself lodging, his Spirit must be bowed, and now we have him, have him at that we hoped for.
Lance.Next time we meet him cracking of nuts, with half a cloak about him, for all means are cut off, or borrowing sixpence, to shew his bounty in the pottage Ordinary?
Fran.Which way went he?
Lance.Pox, why should you ask after him, you have been trimm'd already, let him take his fortune, [he] spun it out himself, Sir, there's no pitie.
Unc.Besides some good to you now, from this miserie.
Fran.I rise upon his ruines! fie, fie, Uncle, fie honestLance.Those Gentlemen were base people, that could so soon take fire to his destruction.
Unc.You are a fool, you are a fool, a young man.
EnterValentine.
Val.Morrow Uncle, morrowFrank, sweetFrank, and how, and how d'ee, think now, how shew matters? morrow Bandog.
Unc.How?
Fran.Is this man naked, forsaken of his friends?
Val.Th'art handsom,Frank, a pretty Gentleman, i'faith thou lookest well, and yet here may be those that look as handsom.
Lance.Sure he can conjure, and has the Devil for his Tailor.
Unc.New and rich! 'tis most impossible he should recover.
Lan.Give him this luck, and fling him into the Sea.
Unc.'Tis not he, imagination cannot work this miracle.
Val.Yes, yes, 'tis he, I will assure you Uncle, the very he, the he your wisdom plaid withall, I thank you for't, neighed at his nakednesse, and made his cold and poverty your pastime; you see I live, and the best can do no more Uncle, and though I have no state, I keep the streets still, and take my pleasure in the Town, like a poor Gentleman, wear clothes to keep me warm, poor things they serve me, can make a shew too if I list, yes uncle, and ring a peal in my pockets, ding dong, uncle, these are mad foolish wayes, but who can help 'em?
Unc.I am amazed.
Lan.I'le sell my Copyhold, for since there are such excellent new nothings, why should I labour? is there no Fairy haunts him, no Rat, nor no old woman?
Unc.You areValentine.
Val.I think so, I cannot tell, I have been call'd so, and some say Christened, why do you wonder at me, and swell, as if you had met a Sergeant fasting, did you ever know desert want? y'are fools, a little stoop there may be to allay him, he would grow too rank else, a small eclipse to shadow him, but out he must break, glowingly again, and with a great lustre, look you uncle, motion and majesty.
Unc.I am confounded.
Fran.I am of his faith.
Val.Walk by his careless kinsman, and turn again and walk, and look thus Uncle, taking some one by the hand, he loves best, leave them to the mercy of the hog-market, comeFrank, Fortune is now my friend, let me instruct thee.
Fran.Good morrow Uncle, I must needs go with him.
Val.Flay me, and turn me out where none inhabits, within two hours I shall be thus again, now wonder on, and laugh at your own ignorance.[Ex.Val.andFranc.
Unc.I do believe him.
Lan.So do I, and heartily upon my conscience, burie him stark naked, he would rise again, within two hours imbroidered: sow mustard-seeds, and they cannot come up so thick as his new sattens do, and clothes of silver, there's no striving.
Unc.Let him play a while then, and let's search out what hand:—
Lan.I, there the game lies.[Exeunt.
EnterFountain, Bellamore,andHarebrain.
Foun.Come, let's speak for our selves, we have lodg'd him sure enough, his nakedness dare no[t] peep out to cross us.
Bel.We can have no admittance.
Hare.Let's in boldly, and use our best arts, who she deigns to favour, we are all content.
Foun.Much good may do her with him, no civil wars.
Bel.By no means, now do I wonder in what old tod Ivie he lies whistling for means, nor clothes he hath none, nor nonewill trust him, we have made that side sure, teach him a new wooing.
Hare.Say it is his Uncles spite.
Foun.It is all one Gentlemen, 'thas rid us of a fair incumbrance, and makes us look about to our own fortunes. Who are these?
EnterIsabelandLuce.
Isab.Not see this man yet! well, I shall be wiser: butLuce, didst ever know a woman melt so? she is finely hurt to hunt.
Luce.Peace, the three Suitors.
Isab.I could so titter now and laugh, I was lostLuce, and I must love, I know not what; OCupid, what pretty gins thou hast to halter Woodcocks! and we must into the Country in all haste,Luce.
Luce.For Heaven's sake, Mistris.
Isab.Nay, I have done, I must laugh though; but Scholar, I shall teach you.
Foun.'Tis her sister.
Bel.Save you Ladies.
Lab.Fair met Gentlemen, you are visiting my sister, I assure my self.
Hare.We would fain bless our eyes.
Isab.Behold and welcom, you would see her?
Foun.'Tis our business.
Isab.You shall see her, and you shall talk with her.
Luce.She will not see 'em, nor spend a word.
Isab.I'le make her fr[e]t a thousand, nay now I have found the s[c]ab, I will so scratch her.
Luce.She cannot endure 'em.
Isab.She loves 'em but too dearly, come follow me, I'le bring you toth' party Gentlemen, then make your own conditions.
Luce.She is sick you know.
Isab.I'le make her well, or kill her, and take no idle answer, you are fools then, nor stand off for her state, she'I scorn you all then, but urge her still, and though she fret, still follow her, a widow must be won so.
Bel.She speaks bravely.
Isab.I would fain have a Brother in law, I love menscompany, and if she call for dinner to avoid you, be sure you stay; follow her into her chamber, if she retire to Pray, pray with her, and boldly, like honest lovers.
Luce.This will kill her.
Foun.You have shewed us one way, do but lead the tother.
Isab.I know you stand o'thorns, come I'le dispatch you.
Luce.If you live after this.
Isab.I have lost my aim.
EnterValentine,andFrancisco.
Fran.Did you not see 'em since.
Val.No hang 'em, hang 'em.
Fran.Nor will you not be seen by 'em?
Val.Let 'em aloneFrank, I'le make 'em their own justice, and a jerker.
Fran.Such base discourteous Dog-whelps.
Val.I shall dog 'em, and double dog 'em, ere I have done.
Fran.Will you go with me, for I would fain find out this piece of bountie, it was the Widows man, that I am certain of.
Val.To what end would you go?
Fran.To give thanks.
Val.Hang giving thanks, hast not thou parts deserve it? it includes a further will to be beholding, beggars can do no more at door, if you will go, there lies your way.
Fran.I hope you will go.
Val.No not in ceremony, and to a woman, with mine own Father, were he livingFrank; I would toth' Court with Bears first, if it be that wench, I think it is, for t'other's wiser, I would not be so lookt upon, and laught at, so made a ladder for her wit, to climb upon, for 'tis the tartest tit in Christendom, I know her wellFrank, and have buckled with her, so lickt, and stroaked, flear'd upon, and flouted, and shown to Chambermaids, like a strange beast, she had purchased with her penny.
Fran.You are a strange man, but do you think it was a woman?
Val.There's no doubt on't, who can be there to do it else? besides the manner of the circumstances.
Fran.Then such courtesies, who ever does 'em sir, saving your own wisdom, must be more lookt into, and better answered, than with deserving slights, or what we ought to have conferred upon us, men may starve else, means are not gotten now with crying out I am a gallant fellow, a good Souldier, a man of learning, or fit to be employed, immediate blessings cease like miracles, and we must grow by second means, I pray go with me, even as you love me Sir.
Val.I will come to thee, butFrank, I will not stay to hear your fopperies, dispatch those e're I come.
Fran.You will not fail me.
Val.Some two hours hence expect me.
Fran.I thank you, and will look for you.[Exeunt.
EnterWidow, Shorthose,andRoger.
Wid.Who let in these puppies? you blind rascals, you drunken Knaves several.
Short.Yes forsooth, I'le let 'em in presently,—Gentlemen.
Wid.Sprecious, you blown Pudding, bawling Rogue.
Short.I bawl as loud as I can, would you have me fetch 'em upon my back.
Wid.Get 'em out rascal, out with 'em, out, I sweat to have 'em near me.
Short.I should sweat more to carry 'em out.
Roger.They are Gentlemen Madam.
Short.Shall we get 'em into th' butterie, and make'em drunk?
Wid.Do any thing, so I be eased.
EnterIsabel, Fount, Bella, Hare.
Isab.Now to her Sir, fear nothing.
Rog.Slip aside boy, I know she loves 'em, howsoever she carries it, and has invited 'em, my young Mistress told me so.
Short.Away to tables then.[Exeunt.
Isab.I shall burst with the sport on't.
Fount.You are too curious Madam, too full of preparation, we expect it not.
Bella.Me thinks the house is handsom, every place decent, what need you be vext?
Hare.We are no strangers.
Fount.What though we come e're you expected us, do not we know your entertainments Madam are free, and full at all times?
Wid.You are merry, Gentlemen.
Bel.We come to be merry Madam, and very merry, men love to laugh heartily, and now and then Lady a little of our old plea.
Wid.I am busie, and very busie too, will none deliver me.
Hare.There is a time for all, you may be busie, but when your friends come, you have as much power Madam.
Wid.This is a tedious torment.
Foun.How hansomly this little piece of anger shews upon her! well Madam well, you know not how to grace your self.
Bel.Nay every thing she does breeds a new sweetness.
Wid.I must go up, I must go up, I have a business waits upon me, some wine for the Gentlemen.
Hare.Nay, we'l go with you, we never saw your chambers yet.
Isab.Hold there boyes.
Wid.Say I go to my prayers?
Foun.We'l pray with you, and help your meditations.
Wid.This is boysterous, or say I go to sleep, will you go to sleep with me?
Bel.So suddenly before meat will be dangerous, we know your dinner's ready Lady, you will not sleep.
Wid.Give me my Coach, I will take the air.
Hare.We'l wait on you, and then your meat after a quickned stomach.
Wid.Let it alone, and call my Steward to me, and bid him bring his reckonings into the Orchard, these unmannerly rude puppies—[Exit Widow.
Foun.We'l walk after you and view the pleasure of the place.
Isab.Let her not rest, for if you give her breath, she'l scorn and flout you, seem how she will, this is the way to win her, be bold and prosper.
Bel.Nay if we do not tire her.—[Exeunt.
Isab.I'le teach you to worm me, good Lady sister, and peep into my privacies to suspect me, I'le torture you, withthat you hate, most daintily, and when I have done that, laugh at that you love most.
EnterLuce.
Luce.What have you done, she chafes and fumes outragiously, and still they persecute her.
Isab.Long may they do so, I'le teach her to declaim against my pities, why is she not gone out o'th' town, but gives occasion for men to run mad after her?
Luc.I shall be hanged.
Isab.This in me had been high treason, three at a time, and private in her Orchard! I hope she'l cast her reckonings right now.
EnterWidow.
Wid.Well, I shall find who brought 'em.
Isab.Ha, ha, ha.
Wid.Why do you laugh sister? I fear me 'tis your trick, 'twas neatly done of you, and well becomes your pleasure.
Isab.What have you done with 'em?
Wid.Lockt 'em i'th' Orchard, there I'le make 'em dance and caper too, before they get their liberty, unmannerly rude puppies.
Isab.They are somewhat saucy, but yet I'le let 'em out, and once more sound 'em, why were they not beaten out?
Wid.I was about it, but because they came as suiters.
Isab.Why did you not answer 'em?
Wid.They are so impudent they will receive none: More yet! how came these in?
EnterFranciscoandLance.
Lan.At the door, Madam.
Isab.It is that face.
Luce.This is the Gentleman.
Wid.She sent the money to?
Luce.The same.
Isab.Fie leave you, they have some business.
Wid.Nay, you shall stay, Sister, they are strangers both to me; how her face alters!
Isab.I am sorry he comes now.
Wid.I am glad he is here now though. Who would you speak with, Gentlemen?
Lan.You Lady, or your fair Sister there, here's a Gentleman that has received a benefit.
Wid.From whom, Sir?
Lan.From one of you, as he supposes, Madam, your man delivered it.
Wid.I pray go forward.
Lan.And of so great a goodness, that he dares not, without the tender of his thanks and service, pass by the house.
Wid.Which is the Gentleman?
Lan.This, Madam.
Wid.What's your name, Sir?
Fran.They that know me call meFrancisco, Lady, one not so proud to scorn so timely a benefit, nor so wretched to hide a gratitude.
Wid.It is well bestowed then.
Fran.Your fair self, or your Sister as it seems, for what desert I dare not know, unless a handsome subject for your charities, or aptness in your noble will to do it, have showred upon my wants a timely bounty, which makes me rich in thanks, my best inheritance.
Wid.I am sorry 'twas not mine, this is the Gentlewoman, fie, do not blush, go roundly to the matter, the man is a pretty man.
Isab.You have three fine ones.
Fran.Then to you, dear Lady?
Isab.I pray no more, Sir, if I may perswade you, your only aptness to do this is recompence, and more than I expected.
Fran.But good Lady.
Isab.And for me further to be acquainted with it besides the imputation of vain glory, were greedy thankings of my self, I did it not to be more affected to; I did it, and if it happened where I thought it fitted, I have my end; more to enquire is curious in either of us, more than that suspicious.
Fran.But gentle Lady, 'twill be necessary.
Isab.About the right way nothing, do not fright it, being to pious use and tender sighted, with the blown face of Complements, it blasts it; had you not come at all, but thought thanks, it had been too much, 'twas not to see your person.
Wid.A brave dissembling Rogue, and how she carries it!
Isa.Though I believe few handsomer; or hear you, though I affect a good tongue well; or try you, though my years desire a friend, that I relieved you.
Wid.A plaguie cunning quean.
Isab.For so I carried it, my end's too glorious in mine eyes, and bettered the goodness I propounded with opinion.
Wid.Fear her not, Sir.
Isa.You cannot catch me, Sister.
Fran.Will you both teach, and tie my tongue up Lady?
Isa.Let it suffice you have it, it was never mine, whilest good men wanted it.
Lan.This is a Saint sure.
Isa.And if you be not such a one, restore it.
Fran.To commend my self, were more officious than you think my thanks are, to doubt I may be worth your gift a treason, both to mine own good and understanding, I know my mind clear, and though modesty tells me, he that intreats intrudes; yet I must think something, and of some season, met with your better taste, this had not been else.
Wid.What ward for that, wench?
Isa.Alas, it never touched me.
Fran.Well, gentle Lady, yours is the first money I ever took upon a forced ill manners.
Isa.The last of me, if ever you use other.
Fran.How may I do, and your way to be thought a grateful taker?
Isa.Spend it, and say nothing, your modesty may deserve more.
Wid.O Sister will you bar thankfulness?
Isa.Dogs dance for meat, would ye have men do worse? for they can speak, cry out like Wood-mongers, good deeds by the hundreds, I did it that my best friend should not know it, wine and vain glory does as much as I else, if you will force my merit, against my meaning, use it in well bestowing it, in shewing it came to be a benefit, and was so; and not examining a Woman did it, or to what end, in not believing sometimes your self, when drink and stirring conversation may ripen strange perswasions.
Fran.Gentle Lady, I were a base receiver of a courtesie,and you a worse disposer, were my nature unfurnished of these fore-sights. Ladies honours were ever in my thoughts, unspotted Crimes, their good deeds holy Temples, where the incense burns not; to common eyes your fears are vertuous, and so I shall preserve 'em.
Isa.Keep but this way, and from this place to tell me so, you have paid me; and so I wish you see all fortune.[Exit.
Wid.Fear not, the Woman will be thanked, I do not doubt it. Are you so crafty, carry it so precisely? this is to wake my fears, or to abuse me, I shall look narrowly: despair not Gentlemen, there is an hour to catch a Woman in, if you be wise, so, I must leave you too; Now will I go laugh at my Suitors.[Exit.
Lan.Sir, what courage?
Fran.This Woman is a founder, and cites Statutes to all her benefits.
Lan.I never knew yet, so few years and so cunning, yet believe me she has an itch, but how to make her confess it, for it is a crafty Tit, and plays about you, will not bite home, she would fain, but she dares not; carry your self but so discreetly, Sir, that want or wantonness seem not to search you, and you shall see her open.
Fran.I do love her, and were I rich, would give two thousand pound to wed her wit but one hour, oh 'tis a Dragon, and such a spritely way of pleasure, haLance.
Lan.Your haLancebroken once, you would cry, ho, ho,Lance.
Fran.Some leaden landed Rogue will have this wench now, when all's done, some such youth will carry her, and wear her, greasie out like stuff, some Dunce that knows no more but Markets, and admires nothing but a long charge at Sizes: O the fortunes!
EnterIsabelandLuce.
Lan.Comfort your self.
Luce.They are here yet, and alone too, boldly upon't; nay, Mistress, I still told you, how 'twould find your trust, this 'tis to venture your charity upon a boy.
Lan.Now, what's the matter? stand fast, and like your self.
Isa.Prethee no more Wench.
Luce.What was his want to you?
Isa.'Tis true.
Luce.Or misery, or say he had been i'th' Cage, was there no mercy to look abroad but yours?
Isa.I am paid for fooling.
Lu.Must every slight companion that can purchase a shew of poverty and beggerly planet fall under your compassion?
Lane.Here's a new matter.
Luce.Nay, you are served but too well, here he staies yet, yet as I live.
Fran.How her face alters on me!
Luce.Out of a confidence I hope.
Isab.I am glad on't.
Fran.How do you gentle Lady?
Isab.Much ashamed Sir, (but first stand further off me, y'are infectious) to find such vanitie, nay almost impudence, where I believ'd a worth: is this your thanks, the gratitude you were so mad to make me, your trim counsel Gentlemen?
Lane.What, Lady?
Isab.Take your device again, it will not serve Sir, the woman will not bite, you are finely cozened, drop it no more for shame.
Luce.Do you think you are here Sir amongst your wast-coateers, your base wenches that scratch at such occasions? you are deluded: This is a Gentlewoman of a noble house, born to a better fame than you can build her, and eyes above your pitch.
Fran.I do acknowledge—
Isab.Then I beseech you Sir, what could 'see, (speak boldly, and speak truly, shame the Devil,) in my behaviour of such easiness that you durst venture to do this?
Fran.You amaze me, this Ring is none of mine, nor did I drop it.
Luce.I saw you drop it, Sir.
Isab.I took it up too, still looking when your modesty should miss it, why, what a childish part was this?
Fran.I vow.
Isab.Vow me no vowes, he that dares do this, has bred himself to boldness, to forswear too; there take your gew-gaw,you are too much pampered, and I repent my part, as you grow older grow wiser if you can, and so farewel Sir.[ExeuntIsabella,andLuce.
Lan.Grow wiser if you can? she has put it to you, 'tis a rich Ring, did you drop it?
Fran.Never, ne're saw it afore,Lance.
Lan.Thereby hangs a tail then: what slight she makes to catch her self! look up Sir, you cannot lose her if you would, how daintily she flies upon the Lure, and cunningly she makes her stops! whistle and she'l come to you.
Fran.I would I were so happy.
Lan.Maids are Clocks, the greatest Wheel they show, goes slowest to us, and make's hang on tedious hopes; the lesser, which are concealed, being often oyl'd with wishes, flee like desires, and never leave that motion, till the tongue strikes; she is flesh, blood and marrow, young as her purpose, and soft as pity; no Monument to worship, but a mould to make men in, a neat one, and I know how e're she appears now, which is near enough, you are stark blind if you hit not soon at night; she would venture forty pounds more but to feel a Flea in yourshape bite her: drop no more Rings forsooth, this was the prettiest thing to know her heart by.
Fran.Thou putst me in much comfort.
Lan.Put your self in good comfort, if she do not point you out the way, drop no more Rings, she'l drop her self into you.
Fran.I wonder my Brother comes not.
Lan.Let him alone, and feed your self on your own fortunes; come be frolick, and let's be monstrous wise and full of counsel, drop no more Rings.[Exeunt.
EnterWidow, Fountain, Bellamore, Harebrain.
Wid.If you will needs be foolish you must be used so: who sent for you? who entertained you Gentlemen? who bid you welcom hither? you came crowding, and impudently bold; press on my patience, as if I kept a house for all Companions, and of all sorts: will 'have your wills, will vex me and force my liking from you I ne're ow'd you?
Fount.For all this we will dine with you.
Bel.And for all this will have a better answer from you.
Wid.You shall never, neither have an answer nor dinner, unless you use me with a more staid respect, and stay your time too.
EnterIsabella, Shorthose, Roger, Humphrey, Ralph,with dishes of meat.
Isab.Forward with the meat now.
Rog.Come Gentlemen, march fairly.
Short.Roger, you are a weak Serving-man, your white broath runs from you; fie, how I sweat under this Pile of Beef; an Elephant can do more! Oh for such a back now, and in these times, what might a man arrive at! Goose, grase you up, and Woodcock march behinde thee, I am almost foundred.
Wid.Who bid you bring the meat yet? away you knaves, I will not dine these two hours: how am I vext and chafed! go carry it back and tell the Cook, he's an arrant Rascal, to send before I called.
Short.Face about Gentlemen, beat a mournfull march then, and give some supporters, or else I perish—[ExeuntServants.
Isab.It does me much good to see her chafe thus.
Hare.We can stay Madam, and will stay and dwell here, 'tis good Air.
Fount.I know you have beds enough, and meat you never want.
Wid.You want a little.
Bel.We dare to pretend no. Since you are churlish, we'l give you Physick, you must purge this anger, it burns you and decays you.
Wid.If I had you out once, I would be at the charge of a portcullis for you.
EnterValentine.
Val.Good morrow noble Lady.
Wid.Good morrow Sir. How sweetly now he looks, and how full manly! what slaves were these to use him so!
Val.I come to look a young man I call Brother.
Wid.Such a one was here Sir, as I remember your own Brother, but gone almost an hour agoe.
Val.Good ee'n then.
Wid.You must not so soon Sir, here be some Gentlemen, it may be you are acquainted with 'em.
Hare.Will nothing make him miserable?
Fount.How glorious!
Bel.It is the very he, does it rain fortunes, or has he a familiar?
Hare.How doggedly he looks too?
Fount.I am beyond my faith, pray let's be going.
Val.Where are these Gentlemen?
Wid.Here.
Val.Yes I know 'em, and will be more familiar.
Bel.Morrow Madam.
Wid.Nay stay and dine.
Val.You shall stay till I talk with you, and not dine neither, but fastingly my fury, you think you have undone me, think so still, and swallow that belief, till you be company for Court-hand Clarks, and starved Atturnies, till you break in at playes like Prentices for three a groat, and crack Nuts with the Scholars in peny Rooms again, and fight for Apples, till you return to what I found you, people betrai'd into the hands of Fencers, Challengers, Tooth-drawers Bills, and tedious Proclamations in Meal-markets, with throngings to see Cutpurses: stir not, but hear, and mark, I'le cut your throats else, till Water works, and rumours of New Rivers rid you again and run you into questions who built Thames, till you run mad for Lotteries, and stand there with your Tables to glean the golden Sentences, and cite 'em secre[t]ly to Servingmen for sound Essayes, till Taverns allow you but a Towel room to Tipple Wine in, that the Bell hath gone for twice, and Glasses that look like broken promises, tied up with wicker protestations, English Tobacco with half Pipes, nor in half a year once burnt, and Bisket that Bawds have rubb'd their gums upon like Corals to bring the mark again, tell these hour Rascals so, this most fatal hour will come again, think I sit down the looser.
Wid.Will you stay Gentlemen, a piece of Beef and a cold Capon, that's all, you know you are welcom.
Hum.That was cast to abuse us.
Bel.Steal off, the Devil is in his anger.
Wid.Nay I am sure you will not leave me so discourteously, now I have provided for you.
Val.What do you here? why do ye vex a woman of her goodness, her state and worth? can you bring a fair certificate that you deserve to be her footmen? husbands, you puppies? husbands for Whores and Bawds, away you wind suckers; do not look big, nor prate, nor stay, nor grumble and when you are gone, seem to laugh at my fury, and slight this Lady, I shall hear, and know this: and though I am not bound to fight for women, as far they are good I dare preserve 'em: be not too bold, for if you be, I'le swinge you monstrously without all pity, your honours now goe, avoid me mainly.[Exeunt.
Wid.Well Sir, you have delivered me, I thank you, and with your nobleness prevented danger, their tongues might utter, we'll all go and eat Sir.
Vol.No, no, I dare not trust my self with women, go to your meat, eat little, take less ease, and tie your body to a daily labour, you may live honestly, and so I thank you.[Exit.
Wid.Well go thy ways, thou art a noble fellow, and some means I must work to have thee know it.[Exit.
EnterUncle,andMerchant.
Unc.Most certain 'tis her hands that hold him up, and her sister relievesFrank.
Mer.I am glad to hear it: but wherefore do they not pursue this fortune to some fair end?
Unc.The women are too craftie,Valentinetoo coy, andFranktoo bashfull, had any wise man hold of such a blessing, they would strike it out o'th' flint but they would form it.
EnterWidow,andShorthose.
Mer.The Widow sure, why does she stir so early?
Wid.'Tis strange, I cannot force him to understand me, and make a benefit of what I would bring him: tell my sister I'le use my devotions at home this morning, she may if she please go to Church.
Short.Hey ho.
Wid.And do you wait upon her with a torch Sir.
Short.Hey ho.
Wid.You lazie Knave.
Short.Here is such a tinkle tanklings that we can ne're lie quiet, and sleep our prayers out.Ralph, pray emptie my right shooe that you made your Chamber-pot, and burn a little Rosemarie in't, I must wait upon my Lady. This morning Prayer has brought me into a consumption, I have nothing left but flesh and bones about me.
Wid.You drousie slave, nothing but sleep and swilling!
Short.Had you been bitten with Bandog fleas, as I have been, and haunted with the night Mare.
Wid.With an Ale-pot.
Short.You would have little list to morning Prayers, pray take my fellowRalph, he has a Psalm Book, I am an ingrum man.
Wid.Get you ready quickly, and when she is ready wait upon her handsomely; no more, be gone.
Short.If I do snore my part out—[ExitShort.
Unc.Now to our purposes.
Mer.Good morrow, Madam.
Wid.Good morrow, Gentlemen.
Unc.Good joy and fortune.
Wid.These are good things, and worth my thanks, I thank you Sir.
Mer.Much joy I hope you'l find, we came to gratulate your new knit marriage-band.
Wid.How?
Unc.He's a Gentleman, although he be my kinsman, my fair Niece.
Wid.Niece, Sir?
Unc.Yes Lady, now I may say so, 'tis no shame to you, I say a Gentleman, and winking at some light fancies, which you most happily may affect him for, as bravely carried, as nobly bred and managed.
Wid.What's all this? I understand you not, what Niece, what marriage-knot?
Unc.I'le tell plainly, you are my Niece, andValentinethe Gentleman has made you so by marriage.
Wid.Marriage?
Unc.Yes Lady, and 'twas a noble and vertuous part, to take a falling man to your protection, and buoy him up again to all his glories.
Wid.The men are mad.
Mer.What though he wanted these outward things, that flie away like shadows, was not his mind a full one, and a brave one? You have wealth enough to give him gloss and outside, and he wit enough to give way to love a Lady.
Unc.I ever thought he would do well.
Mer.Nay, I knew how ever he wheel'd about like a loose Cabine, he would charge home at length, like a brave Gentleman; Heavens blessing o' your heart Lady, we are so bound to honour you, in all your service so devoted to you.
Unc.Do not look so strange Widow, it must be known, better a general joy; no stirring here yet, come, come, you cannot hide 'em.
Wid.Pray be not impudent, these are the finest toyes, belike I am married then?
Mer.You are in a miserable estate in the worlds account else, I would not for your wealth it come to doubting.
Wid.And I am great with child?
Unc.No, great they say not, but 'tis a full opinion you are with child, and great joy among the Gentlemen, your husband hath bestirred himself fairly.
Mer.Alas, we know his private hours of entrance, how long, and when he stayed, could name the bed too, where he paid down his first-fruits.
Wid.I shall believe anon.
Unc.And we consider for some private reasons, you would have it private, yet take your own pleasure; and so good morrow, my best Niece, my sweetest.
Wid.No, no, pray stay.
Unc.I know you would be with him, love him, and love him well.
Mer.You'l find him noble, this may beget—
Unc.It must needs work upon her.[ExitUncle,andMer.
Wid.These are fine bobs i'faith, married, and with child too! how long has this been, I trow? they seem grave fellows,they should not come to flout; married, and bedded, the world takes notice too! where lies this May-game? I could be vext extreamly now, and rail too, but 'tis to no end, though I itch a little, must I be scratcht I know not how, who waits there?
EnterHumphrey,aServant.
Hum.Madam.
Wid.Make ready my Coach quickly, and wait you only, and hark you Sir, be secret and speedy, inquire out where he lies.
Hum.I shall do it, Madam.
Wid.Married, and got with child in a dream! 'tis fine i'faith, sure he that did this, would do better waking.[Exit.
EnterValentine, Fran. Lance,and a Boy with a Torch.
Val.Hold thy Torch handsomely: how dost thouFrank?Peter Bassel, bear up.
Fran.You have fried me soundly, Sack do you call this drink?
Val.A shrewd dog,Frank, will bite abundantly.
Lan.Now could I fight, and fight with thee.
Val.With me, thou man ofMemphis?
Lan.But that thou art mine own natural master, yet my sack says thou art no man, thou art a Pagan, and pawnest thy land, which a noble cause.
Val.No arms, nor arms, goodLancelot, dearLance, no fighting here, we will have Lands boy, Livings, and Titles, thou shalt be a Vice-Roy, hang fighting, hang't 'tis out of fashion.
Lan.I would fain labour you into your lands again, go to, it is behoveful.
Fran.FieLance, fie.
Lan.I must beat some body, and why not my Master, before a stranger? charity and beating begins at home.
Val.Come, thou shalt beat me.
Lan.I will not be compel'd, and you were two Masters, I scorn the motion.
Val.Wilt thou sleep?
Lan.I scorn sleep.