_Wel_. Art thou no more?
_Elder Lo_. Yes more than thou dar'st be; a Souldier.
_Abig_. Thou dost not come to quarrel?
_Elder Lo_. No, not with women; I come to speak here with a Gentlewoman.
_Abig_. Why, I am one.
_Elder Lo_. But not with one so gentle.
_Wel_. This is a fine fellow.
_Elder Lo_. Sir, I am not fine yet. I am but new come over, direct me with
your ticket to your Taylor, and then I shall be fine Sir. Lady if there be
a better of your Sex within this house, say I would see her.
_Abig_. Why am not I good enough for you Sir?
_Elder Lo_. Your way you'l be too good, pray end my business. This is
another Sutor, O frail Woman!
_Wel_. This fellow with his bluntness hopes to do more than the long sutes
of a thousand could; though he be sowre he's quick, I must not trust him.
Sir, this Lady is not to speak with you, she is more serious: you smell as
if you were new calkt; go and be hansome, and then you may sit with her
Servingmen.
_El. Lo_. What are you Sir?
_Wel_. Guess by my outside.
_Elder Lo_. Then I take you Sir, for some new silken thing wean'd from the
Country, that shall (when you come to keep good company) be beaten into
better manners. Pray good proud Gentlewoman, help me to your Mistress.
_Abig_. How many lives hast thou, that thou talk'st thus rudely?
_Elder Lo_. But one, one, I am neither Cat nor Woman.
_Wel_. And will that one life, Sir, maintain you ever in such bold
sawciness?
_Elder Lo_. Yes, amongst a Nation of such men as you are, and be no worse
for wearing, shall I speak with this Lady?
_Abig_. No by my troth shall you not.
_Elder Lo_. I must stay here then?
_Wel_. That you shall not neither.
_Elder Lo_. Good fine thing tell me why?
_Wel_. Good angry thing I'le tell you:
This is no place for such companions,
Such lousie Gentlemen shall find their business
Better i'th' Suburbs, there your strong pitch perfume,
Mingled with lees of Ale, shall reek in fashion:
This is no Thames-street, Sir.
_Abig_. This Gentleman informs you truly:
Prethee be satisfied, and seek the Suburbs,
Good Captain, or what ever title else,
The Warlike Eele-boats have bestowed upon thee,
Go and reform thy self, prethee be sweeter,
And know my Lady speaks with no Swabbers.
_Elder Lo_. You cannot talk me out with your tradition
Of wit you pick from Plays, go to, I have found ye:
And for you, Sir, whose tender gentle blood
Runs in your Nose, and makes you snuff at all,
But three pil'd people, I do let you know,
He that begot your worships Sattin-sute,
Can make no men Sir: I will see this Lady,
And with the reverence of your silkenship,
In these old Ornaments.
_Wel_. You will not sure?
_Elder Lo_. Sure Sir I shall.
_Abig_. You would be beaten out?
_Elder Lo_. Indeed I would not, or if I would be beaten,
Pray who shall beat me? this good Gentleman
Looks as if he were o'th' peace.
_Wel_. Sir you shall see that: will you get you out?
_Elder Lo_. Yes, that, that shall correct your boys tongue.
Dare you fight, I will stay here still. [_They draw._
_Abig_. O their things are out, help, help for Gods sake,
Madam; Jesus they foin at one another.
_Enter_ Lady.
Madam, why, who is within there?
_Lady_. Who breeds this rudeness?
_Wel._ This uncivil fellow;
He saies he comes from Sea, where I believe,
H'as purg'd away his manners.
_Lady._ Why what of him?
_Wel._ Why he will rudely without once God bless you,
Press to your privacies, and no denial
Must stand betwixt your person and his business;
I let go his ill Language.
_Lady._ Sir, have you business with me?
_Elder Lo._ Madam some I have,
But not so serious to pawn my life for't:
If you keep this quarter, and maintain about you
Such Knights o'th' _Sun_ as this is, to defie
Men of imployment to ye, you may live,
But in what fame?
_Lady._ Pray stay Sir, who has wrong'd you?
_Elder Lo._ Wrong me he cannot, though uncivilly
He flung his wild words at me: but to you
I think he did no honour, to deny
The hast I come withal, a passage to you,
Though I seem course.
_Lady._ Excuse me gentle Sir, 'twas from my knowledge,
And shall have no protection. And to you Sir,
You have shew'd more heat than wit, and from your self
Have borrowed power, I never gave you here,
To do these vile unmanly things: my house
Is no blind street to swagger in; and my favours
Not doting yet on your unknown deserts
So far, that I should make you Master of my business;
My credit yet stands fairer with the people
Than to be tried with swords; and they that come
To do me service, must not think to win me
With hazard of a murther; if your love
Consist in fury, carry it to the Camp:
And there in honour of some common Mistress,
Shorten your youth, I pray be better temper'd:
And give me leave a while Sir.
_Wel._ You must have it. [_Exit_ Welford.
_Lady._ Now Sir, your business?
_El. Lo._ First, I thank you for schooling this young fellow,
Whom his own follies, which he's prone enough
Daily to fall into, if you but frown,
Shall level him a way to his repentance:
Next, I should rail at you, but you are a Woman,
And anger's lost upon you.
_Lady._ Why at me Sir?
I never did you wrong, for to my knowledge
This is the first sight of you.
_Elder Lo._ You have done that,
I must confess I have the least curse in
Because the least acquaintance: But there be
(If there be honour in the minds of men)
Thousands when they shall know what I deliver,
(As all good men must share in't) will to shame
Blast your black memory.
_Lady._ How is this good Sir?
_Elder Lo._ 'Tis that, that if you have a soul will choak it:
Y'ave kill'd a Gentleman.
_Lady._ I kill'd a Gentleman!
_Elder Lo._ You and your cruelty have kill'd him Woman,
And such a man (let me be angry in't)
Whose least worth weighed above all womens vertues
That are; I spare you all to come too: guess him now?
_Lady._ I am so innocent I cannot Sir.
_Elder Lo_. Repent you mean, you are a perfect Woman,
And as the first was, made for mans undoing.
_Lady._ Sir, you have mist your way, I am not she.
_Elder Lo._ Would he had mist his way too, though he had
Wandered farther than Women are ill spoken of,
So he had mist this misery, you Lady.
_Lady._ How do you do, Sir?
_Elder Lo._ Well enough I hope.
While I can keep my self out from temptations.
_Lady._ Leap into this matter, whither would ye?
_Elder Lo._ You had a Servant that your peevishness
Injoined to Travel.
_Lady._ Such a one I have
Still, and shall be griev'd 'twere otherwise.
_El. Lo._ Then have your asking, and be griev'd he's dead;
How you will answer for his worth, I know not,
But this I am sure, either he, or you, or both
Were stark mad, else he might have liv'd
To have given a stronger testimony to th' world
Of what he might have been. He was a man
I knew but in his evening, ten Suns after,
Forc'd by a Tyrant storm our beaten Bark
Bulg'd under us; in which sad parting blow,
He call'd upon his Saint, but not for life,
On you unhappy Woman, and whilest all
Sought to preserve their Souls, he desperately
Imbrac'd a Wave, crying to all that saw it,
If any live, go to my Fate that forc'd me
To this untimely end, and make her happy:
His name was _Loveless_: And I scap't the storm,
And now you have my business.
_Lady._ 'Tis too much.
Would I had been that storm, he had not perisht.
If you'l rail now I will forgive you Sir.
Or if you'l call in more, if any more
Come from this ruine, I shall justly suffer
What they can say, I do confess my self
A guiltie cause in this. I would say more,
But grief is grown too great to be delivered.
_Elder Lo._ I like this well: these women are strange things.
'Tis somewhat of the latest now to weep,
You should have wept when he was going from you,
And chain'd him with those tears at home.
_La._ Would you had told me then so, these two arms had been his Sea.
_Elder Lo._ Trust me you move me much: but say he lived, these were
forgotten things again.
_Lady._ I, say you so? Sure I should know that voice: this is knavery.
I'le fit you for it. Were he living Sir, I would perswade you to be
charitable, I, and confess we are not all so ill as your opinion holds us.
O my friend, what penance shall I pull upon my fault, upon my most
unworthy self for this?
_Elder Lo._ Leave to love others, 'twas some jealousie
That turn'd him desperate.
_Lady._ I'le be with you straight: are you wrung there?
_Elder Lo._ This works amain upon her.
_Lady._ I do confess there is a Gentleman
Has born me long good will.
_Elder Lo._ I do not like that.
_Lady._ And vow'd a thousand services to me; to me, regardless of him: But
since Fate, that no power can withstand, has taken from me my first, and
best love, and to weep away my youth is a mere folly, I will shew you what
I determine sir: you shall know all: Call M. _Welford_ there: That
Gentleman I mean to make the model of my Fortunes, and in his chast
imbraces keep alive the memory of my lost lovely _Loveless_: he is
somewhat like him too.
_Elder Lo._ Then you can love.
_Lady._ Yes certainly Sir?
Though it please you to think me hard and cruel,
I hope I shall perswade you otherwise.
_Elder Lo._ I have made my self a fine fool.
_Enter_ Welford.
_Wel._ Would you have spoke with me Madam?
_Lady._ Yes M. _Welford_, and I ask your pardon before this Gentleman for
being froward: this kiss, and henceforth more affection.
_Elder Lo._ So, 'tis better I were drown'd indeed.
_Wel._ This is a sudden passion, God hold it.
This fellow out of his fear sure has
Perswaded her. I'le give him a new suit on't.
_La._ A parting kiss, and good Sir, let me pray you
To wait me in the Gallerie.
_Wel._ I am in another world, Madam where you please. [_Exit_ Welford.
_Elder Lo._ I will to Sea, and 't shall goe hard but I'le be drown'd
indeed.
_La._ Now Sir you see I am no such hard creature,
But time may win me.
_Elder Lo._ You have forgot your lost Love.
_La._ Alas Sir, what would you have me do? I cannot call him back again
with sorrow; I'le love this man as dearly, and beshrow me I'le keep him
far enough from Sea, and 'twas told me, now I remember me, by an old wise
woman, that my first Love should be drown'd, and see 'tis come about.
_Elder Lo._ I would she had told you your second should be hang'd too, and
let that come about: but this is very strange.
_La._ Faith Sir, consider all, and then I know you'le be of my mind: if
weeping would redeem him, I would weep still.
_Elder Lo._ But say that I were _Loveless_,
And scap'd the storm, how would you answer this?
_Lady._ Why for that Gentleman I would leave all the world.
_Elder Lo._ This young thing too?
_Lady._ That young thing too,
Or any young thing else: why, I would lose my state.
_Elder Lo._ Why then he lives still, I am he, your _Loveless_.
_Lady._ Alas I knew it Sir, and for that purpose prepared this Pageant:
get you to your task. And leave these Players tricks, or I shall leave
you, indeed I shall. Travel, or know me not.
_Elder Lo._ Will you then marry?
_Lady._ I will not promise, take your choice. Farewell.
_Elder Lo._ There is no other Purgatorie but a Woman.
I must doe something. [_Exit_ Loveless.
_Enter_ Welford.
_Wel._ Mistress I am bold.
_Lady._ You are indeed.
_Wel._ You so overjoyed me Lady.
_Lady._ Take heed you surfeit not, pray fast and welcom.
_Wel._ By this light you love me extreamly.
_Lady._ By this, and to morrows light, I care not for you.
_Wel._ Come, come, you cannot hide it.
_Lady._ Indeed I can, where you shall never find it.
_Wel._ I like this mirth well Lady.
_Lady._ You shall have more on't.
_Wel._ I must kiss you.
_Lady._ No Sir.
_Wel._ Indeed I must.
_Lady._ What must be, must be; I'le take my leave, you have your parting
blow: I pray commend me to those few friends you have, that sent you
hither, and tell them when you travel next, 'twere fit you brought less
bravery with you, and more wit, you'le never get a wife else.
_Wel._ Are you in earnest?
_Lady._ Yes faith. Will you eat Sir, your horses will be readie straight,
you shall have a napkin laid in the butterie for ye.
_Wel._ Do not you love me then?
_Lady._ Yes, for that face.
_Wel._ It is a good one Ladie.
_Lady._ Yes, if it were not warpt, the fire in time may mend it.
_Wel._ Me thinks yours is none of the best Ladie.
_Lady._ No by my troth Sir; yet o' my conscience, You would make shift
with it.
_Wel._ Come pray no more of this.
_Lady._ I will not: Fare you well. Ho, who's within there? bring out the
Gentlemans horses, he's in haste; and set some cold meat on the Table.
_Wel._ I have too much of that I thank you Ladie: take your Chamber when
you please, there goes a black one with you Ladie.
_Lady._ Farewell young man. [_Exit_ Ladie.
_Wel._ You have made me one, Farewell: and may the curse of a great house
fall upon thee, I mean the Butler. The devil and all his works are in
these women, would all of my sex were of my mind, I would make 'em a new
Lent, and a long one, that flesh might be in more reverence with them.
_Enter Abigal to him._
_Abig._ I am sorry M. _Welford_.
_Wel._ So am I, that you are here.
_Abig._ How does my Ladie use you?
_Wel._ As I would use you, scurvilie.
_Abig._ I should have been more kind Sir.
_Wel._ I should have been undone then. Pray leave me, and look to your
sweet-meats; hark, your Ladie calls.
_Abig._ Sir, I shall borrow so much time without offence.
_Wel._ Y'are nothing but offence, for Gods love leave me.
_Abig._ 'Tis strange my Ladie should be such a tyrant?
_Wel._ To send you to me, 'Pray goe stitch, good doe, y'are more trouble
to me than a Term.
_Abig._ I do not know how my good will, if I said love I lied not, should
any way deserve this?
_Wel._ A thousand waies, a thousand waies; sweet creature let me depart in
peace.
_Abig._ What Creature Sir? I hope I am a woman.
_Wel._ A hundred I think by your noise.
_Abig._ Since you are angrie Sir, I am bold to tell you that I am a woman,
and a rib.
_Wel._ Of a roasted horse.
_Abig._ Conster me that?
_Wel._ A Dog can doe it better; Farwell Countess, and commend me to your
Ladie, tell her she's proud, and scurvie, and so I commit you both to your
tempter.
_Abig._ Sweet Mr. _Welford_.
_Wel._ Avoid old Satanus: Go daub your ruines, your face looks fouler than
a storm: the Foot-man stayes for you in the Lobby Lady.
_Abig._ If you were a Gentleman, I should know it by your gentle
conditions: are these fit words to give a Gentlewoman?
_Wel._ As fit as they were made for ye: Sirrah, my horses. Farwell old
Adage, keep your nose warm, the Rheum will make it horn else--
[_Exit_ Welford.
_Abig._ The blessings of a Prodigal young heir be thy companions
_Welford_, marry come up my Gentleman, are your gums grown so tender they
cannot bite? A skittish Filly will be your fortune _Welford_, and fair
enough for such a packsaddle. And I doubt not (if my aim hold) to see her
made to amble to your hand. [_Exit Abigal._
_Enter_ Young Loveless, _and_ Comrades, Morecraft, Widow, Savil, _and the
rest._
_Captain._ Save thy brave shoulder, my young puissant Knight, and may thy
back Sword bite them to the bone that love thee not, thou art an errant
man, go on. The circumcis'd shall fall by thee. Let Land and labour fill
the man that tills, thy sword must be thy plough, and _Jove_ it speed.
_Mecha_ shall sweat, and _Mahomet_ shall fall, and thy dear name fill up
his monument.
_Yo. L._ It shall Captain, I mean to be a Worthy.
_Cap._ One Worthy is too little, thou shalt be all.
_Mor._ Captain I shall deserve some of your love too.
_Capt._ Thou shalt have heart and hand too, noble _Morecraft_, if them
wilt lend me mony. I am a man of Garrison, be rul'd, and open to me those
infernal gates, whence none of thy evil Angels pass again, and I will
stile thee noble, nay _Don Diego_. I'le woo thy _Infanta_ for thee, and my
Knight shall feast her with high meats, and make her apt.
_Mor._ Pardon me Captain, y'are beside my meaning.
_Young Lo._ No Mr. _Morecraft_, 'tis the Captains meaning I should prepare
her for ye.
_Capt._ Or provok her. Speak my modern man, I say provoke her.
_Poet._ Captain, I say so too, or stir her to it. So say the Criticks.
_Young Lo._ But howsoever you expound it sir, she's very welcom, and this
shall serve for witness. And Widow, since y'are come so happily, you shall
deliver up the keyes, and free possession of this house, whilst I stand by
to ratifie.
_Wid._ I had rather give it back again believe me, 'Tis a miserie to say
you had it. Take heed?
_Young Lo._ 'Tis past that Widow, come, sit down, some wine there, there
is a scurvie banquet if we had it. All this fair house is yours Sir
_Savil_?
_Savil._ Yes Sir.
_Young Lo._ Are your keyes readie, I must ease your burden.
_Sav._ I am readie Sir to be undone, when you shall call me to't.
_Young Lo._ Come come, thou shalt live better.
_Sav._ I shall have less to doe, that's all, there's half a dozen of my
friends i'th' fields sunning against a bank, with half a breech among 'em,
I shall be with 'em shortly. The care and continuall vexation of being
rich, eat up this rascall. What shall become of my poor familie, they are
no sheep, and they must keep themselves.
_Young Lo._ Drink Master _Morecraft_, pray be merrie all:
Nay and you will not drink there's no societie,
Captain speak loud, and drink: widow, a word.
_Cap._ Expou[n]d her throughly Knight. Here God o' gold, here's to thy
fair possessions; Be a Baron and a bold one: leave off your tickling of
young heirs like Trouts, and let thy Chimnies smoke. Feed men of war, live
and be honest, and be saved yet.
_Mor._ I thank you worthie Captain for your counsel. You keep your
Chimnies smoking there, your nostrils, and when you can, you feed a man of
War, this makes you not a Baron, but a bare one: and how or when you shall
be saved, let the Clark o'th' companie (you have commanded) have a just
care of.
_Poet._ The man is much moved. Be not angrie Sir, but as the Poet sings,
let your displeasure be a short furie, and goe out. You have spoke home,
and bitterly, to me Sir. Captain take truce, the Miser is a tart and a
wittie whorson--
_Cap._ Poet, you feign perdie, the wit of this man lies in his fingers
ends, he must tell all; his tongue fills his mouth like a neats tongue,
and only serves to lick his hungrie chaps after a purchase: his brains and
brimstone are the devils diet to a fat usurers head: To her Knight, to
her: clap her aboard, and stow her. Where's the brave Steward?
_Savil._ Here's your poor friend, and _Savil_ Sir.
_Capt._ Away, th'art rich in ornaments of nature. First in thy face, thou
hast a serious face, a betting, bargaining, and saving face, a rich face,
pawn it to the Usurer; a face to kindle the compassion of the most
ignorant and frozen Justice.
_Savil._ 'Tis such I dare not shew it shortly sir.
_Capt._ Be blithe and bonny steward: Master _Morecraft_, Drink to this man
of reckoning?
_Mor._ Here's e'ne to him.
_Savil._ The Devil guide it downward: would there were in't an acre of the
great broom field he bought, to sweep your durtie Conscience, or to choak
ye, 'tis all one to me, Usurer.
_Young Lo._ Consider what I told you, you are young, unapt for worldly
business: Is it fit one of such tenderness, so delicate, so contrarie to
things of care, should stir and break her better meditations, in the bare
brokage of a brace of Angels? or a new Kirtel, though it be Satten? eat by
the hope of surfeits, and lie down only in expectation of a morrow, that
may undo some easie hearted fool, or reach a widows curses? Let out mony,
whose use returns the principal? and get out of these troubles, a
consuming heir: For such a one must follow necessarily, you shall die
hated, if not old and miserable; and that possest wealth that you got with
pining, live to see tumbled to anothers hands, that is no more a kin to
you, than you to his couzenage.
_Widow._ Sir you speak well, would God that charity had first begun here.
_Young Lo._ 'Tis yet time. Be merrie, me thinks you want wine there,
there's more i'th' house. Captain, where rests the health?
_Captain._ It shall goe round boy.
_Young Lo._ Say you can suffer this, because the end points at much
profit, can you so far bow below your blood, below your too much beautie,
to be a partner of this fellowes bed, and lie with his diseases? if you
can, I will no[t] press you further: yet look upon him: there's nothing in
that hide-bound Usurer, that man of mat, that all decai'd, but aches, for
you to love, unless his perisht lungs, his drie cough, or his scurvie.
This is truth, and so far I dare speak yet: he has yet past cure of
Physick, spaw, or any diet, a primitive pox in his bones; and o' my
Knowledge he has been ten times rowell'd: ye may love him; he had a
bastard, his own toward issue, whipt, and then cropt for washing out the
roses, in three farthings to make 'em pence.
_Widow._ I do not like these Morals.
_Young Lo._ You must not like him then.
_Enter_ Elder Love.
_Elder Lo._ By your leave Gentlemen?
_Young Lo._ By my troth sir you are welcom, welcom faith: Lord what a
stranger you are grown; pray know this Gentlewoman, and if you please
these friends here: we are merry, you see the worst on't; your house has
been kept warm Sir.
_Elder Lo._ I am glad to hear it Brother, pray God you are wise too.
_Young Lo._ Pray Mr. _Morecraft_ know my elder Brother, and Captain do you
complement. _Savil_ I dare swear is glad at heart to see you; Lord, we
heard Sir you were drown'd at Sea, and see how luckily things come about!
_More._ This mony must be paid again Sir.
_Young Lo._ No Sir, pray keep the Sale, 'twill make good Tailors measures;
I am well I thank you.
_Wid._ By my troth the Gentleman has stew'd him in his own Sawce, I shall
love him for't.
_Sav._ I know not where I am, I am so glad: your worship is the welcom'st
man alive; upon my knees I bid you welcome home: here has been such a
hurry, such a din, such dismal Drinking, Swearing and Whoring, 'thas
almost made me mad: we have all liv'd in a continual _Turnbal-street_;
Sir, blest be Heaven, that sent you safe again, now shall I eat and go to
bed again.
_Elder Lo._ Brother dismiss these people.
_Young Lo._ Captain be gone a while, meet me at my old _Randevouse_ in the
evening, take your small Poet with you. Mr. _Morecraft_ you were best go
prattle with your learned Counsel, I shall preserve your mony, I was
couzen'd when time was, we are quit Sir.
_Wid._ Better and better still.
_Elder Lo._ What is this fellow, Brother?
_Young Lo._ The thirsty Usurer that supt my Land off.
_Elder Lo._ What does he tarry for?
_Young Lo._ Sir to be Landlord of your House and State: I was bold to make
a little sale Sir.
_More._ Am I overreach'd? if there be Law I'le hamper ye.
_Elder Lo._ Prethee be gone, and rave at home, thou art so base a fool I
cannot laugh at thee: Sirrah, this comes of couzening, home and spare, eat
Reddish till you raise your sums again. If you stir far in this, I'le have
you whipt, your ears nail'd for intelligencing o'the Pillory, and your
goods forfeit: you are a stale couzener, leave my house: no more.
_More._ A pox upon your house. Come Widow, I shall yet hamper this young
Gamester.
_Wid._ Good twelve i'th' hundred keep your way, I am not for your diet,
marry in your own Tribe _Jew_, and get a Broker.
_Young Lo._ 'Tis well said Widow: will you jog on Sir?
_More._ Yes, I will go, but 'tis no matter whither:
But when I trust a wild Fool, and a Woman,
May I lend Gratis, and build Hospitals.
_Young Lo._ Nay good Sir, make all even, here's a Widow wants your good
word for me, she's rich, and may renew me and my fortunes.
_Elder Lo._ I am glad you look before you. Gentlewoman, here is a poor
distressed younger Brother.
_Wid._ You do him wrong Sir, he's a Knight.
_Elder Lo._ I ask you mercy: yet 'tis no matter, his Knighthood is no
inheritance I take it: whatsoever he is, he is your Servant, or would be,
Lady. Faith be not merciless, but make a man; he's young and handsome,
though he be my Brother, and his observances may deserve your Love: he
shall not fail for means.
_Wid._ Sir you speak like a worthy Brother: and so much I do credit your
fair Language, that I shall love your Brother: and so love him, but I
shall blush to say more.
_Elder Lo._ Stop her mouth. I hope you shall not live to know that hour
when this shall be repented. Now Brother I should chide, but I'le give no
distaste to your fair Mistress. I will instruct her in't and she shall
do't: you have been wild and ignorant, pray mend it.
_Young Lo._ Sir, every day now Spring comes on.
_Elder Lo._ To you good Mr. _Savil_ and your Office, thus much I have to
say: Y'are from my Steward become, first your own Drunkard, then his Bawd:
they say y'are excellent grown in both, and perfect: give me your keys Sir
_Savil_.
_Savil._ Good Sir consider whom you left me to.