Hath not our mother Nature, for her store
And great encrease, said it is good and just, 145
And will’d that every living creature must
Beget his like?
_Priest._ You’re better read than I,
I must confess, in blood and lechery.—
Now to the bower, and bring this beast along,
Where he may suffer penance for his wrong. _Exeunt._ 150
[SCENE IV.][3494]
_Enter_ PERIGOT, _with his hand bloody_.
_Peri._ Here will I wash it in the morning’s dew,
Which she on every little grass doth strew
In silver drops against the sun’s appear;[3495]
’T is holy water, and will make me clear.
My hand will not be cleans’d.—My wronged love, 5
If thy chaste spirit in the air yet move,
Look mildly down on him that yet doth stand
All full of guilt, thy blood upon his hand;
And though I struck thee undeservedly,
Let my revenge on her that injur’d thee 10
Make less a fault which I intended not.
And let these dew-drops wash away my spot!—
It will not cleanse. Oh, to what sacred flood
Shall I resort, to wash away this blood?
Amidst these trees the holy Clorin dwells, 15
In a low cabin of cut boughs, and heals
All wounds: to her I will myself address,
And my rash faults repentantly confess;
Perhaps she ’ll find a means, by art or prayer,
To make my hand, with chaste blood stained, fair. 20
That done, not far hence, underneath some tree
I ’ll have a little cabin built, since she
Whom I ador’d is dead; there will I give
Myself to strictness, and, like Clorin, live. _Exit._
[SCENE V.][3496]
_The curtain is drawn_, CLORIN _appears sitting in the cabin_, AMORET
_sitting on the one side of her_, ALEXIS _and_ CLOE _on the other_;
_the_ Satyr _standing by_.
_Clo._ Shepherd, once more your blood is staid:
Take example by this maid,
Who is heal’d ere you be pure;
So hard it is lewd lust to cure.
Take heed, then, how you turn your eye 5
On this[3497] other lustfully.—
And, shepherdess, take heed lest you
Move his willing eye thereto:
Let no wring, nor pinch, nor smile,
Of yours his weaker sense beguile.— 10
Is your love yet true and chaste,
And for ever so to last?
_Alexis._ I have forgot all vain desires,
All looser thoughts, ill-temp’red fires:
True love I find a pleasant fume, 15
Whose moderate heat can ne’er consume.
_Cloe._ And I a new fire feel in me,
Whose chaste flame is not quencht to be.
_Clo._ Join your hands with modest touch,
And for ever keep you such. 20
_Enter_ PERIGOT.
_Peri._ [_Aside._] Yon is her cabin: thus far off I ’ll stand,
And call her forth; for my unhallowed hand
I dare not bring so near yon sacred place.—
Clorin, come forth, and do a timely grace
To a poor swain.
_Clo._ What art thou that dost call? 25
Clorin is ready to do good to all:
Come near.
_Peri._ I dare not.
_Clo._ Satyr, see
Who it is that calls on me.
_Sat._ [_coming from the bower._]
There, at hand, some swain doth stand,
Stretching out a bloody hand. 30
_Peri._ Come, Clorin, bring thy holy waters clear,
To wash my hand.
_Clo._ [_coming out._] What wonders have been here
To-night! Stretch forth thy hand, young swain;
Wash and rub it, whilst I rain
Holy water.
_Peri._ Still you pour, 35
But my hand will never scour.
_Clo._ Satyr, bring him to the bower:
We will try the sovereign power
Of other waters.
_Sat._ Mortal, sure,
’T is the blood of maiden pure 40
That stains thee so.
_The_ Satyr _leadeth him to the bower_, _where he spieth_ AMORET, _and
kneeling down_, _she knoweth him_.
_Peri._ Whate’er thou be,
Be’st thou her sprite, or some divinity,
That in her shape thinks good to walk this grove,
Pardon poor Perigot!
_Amo._ I am thy love,
Thy Amoret, for evermore thy love: 45
Strike once more on my naked breast, I’ll prove
As constant still. Oh, couldst thou love me yet,
How soon could I my former griefs forget!
_Peri._ So over-great with joy that you live, now
I am, that no desire of knowing how 50
Doth seize me. Hast thou still power to forgive?
_Amo._ Whilst thou hast power to love, or I to live:
More welcome now than hadst thou never gone
Astray from me!
_Peri._ And when thou lov’st alone, 54
And not I [thee,] death, or some ling’ring pain
That’s worse, light on me!
_Clo._ Now your stain
Perhaps will cleans’d be;[3498] once again.
See, the blood that erst did stay,
With the water drops away.
All the powers again are pleas’d, 60
And with this new knot are appeas’d.
Join your hands, and rise together:
Pan be blest that brought you hither!
_Enter_ Priest of Pan _and_ Old Shepherd.
Go back again, whate’er thou art; unless
Smooth maiden-thoughts possess thee, do not press 65
This hallowed ground.—Go, Satyr, take his hand,
And give him present trial.
_Sat._ Mortal, stand,
Till by fire I have made known
Whether thou be such a one
That mayst freely tread this place. 70
Hold thy hand up.—Never was
[_Applying the_ Priest’s _hand to the taper_.]
More untainted flesh than this.
Fairest, he is full of bliss.
_Clo._ Then boldly speak, why dost thou seek this place?
_Priest._ First, honour’d virgin, to behold thy face, 75
Where all good dwells that is; next, for to try
The truth of late report was given to me,—
Those shepherds that have met with foul mischance,
Through much neglect and more ill governance,
Whether the wounds they have may yet endure 80
The open air, or stay a longer cure;
And lastly, what the doom may be shall light
Upon those guilty wretches, through whose spite
All this confusion fell; for to this place,
Thou holy maiden, have I brought the race 85
Of these offenders, who have freely told
Both why and by what means they gave this bold
Attempt upon their lives.
_Clo._ Fume all the ground,
And sprinkle holy water, for unsound
And foul infection ’gins to fill the air: 90
It gathers yet more strongly; take a pair
[_The_ Satyr _fumes the ground_, _etc._]
Of censers fill’d with frankincense and myrrh,
Together with cold camphire quickly stir
Thee, gentle Satyr, for the place begins
To sweat and labour with th’ abhorred sins 95
Of those offenders: let them not come nigh,
For full of itching flame and leprosy
Their very souls are, that the ground goes back,
And shrinks to feel the sullen weight of black
And so unheard-of venom.—Hie thee fast, 100
Thou holy man, and banish from the chaste
These manlike monsters; let them never more
Be known upon these downs, but, long before
The next sun’s rising, put them from the sight
And memory of every honest wight: 105
Be quick in expedition, lest the sores
Of these weak patients break into new gores.[3499] _Exit_ Priest.
_Peri._ My dear, dear Amoret, how happy are
Those blessed pairs, in whom a little jar
Hath bred an everlasting love, too strong 110
For time, or steel, or envy to do wrong!
How do you feel your hurts? Alas, poor heart,
How much I was abus’d! Give me the smart,
For it is justly mine.
_Amo._ I do believe,
It is enough, dear friend; leave off to grieve, 115
And let us once more, in despite of ill,
Give hands and hearts again.
_Peri._ With better will
Than e’er I went to find in hottest day
Cool crystal of the fountain, to allay 119
My eager thirst. May this band never break!
Hear us, oh, Heaven!
_Amo._ Be constant.
_Peri._ Else Pan wreak
With double vengeance my disloyalty!
Let me not dare to know the company
Of men, or any more behold those eyes!
_Amo._ Thus, shepherd, with a kiss all envy dies. 125
_Re-enter_ Priest of Pan.
_Priest._ Bright maid, I have perform’d your will. The swain
In whom such heat and black rebellions reign
Hath undergone your sentence and disgrace;
Only the maid I have reserv’d, whose face
Shows much amendment; many a tear doth fall 130
In sorrow of her fault. Great fair, recall
Your heavy doom, in hope of better days,
Which I dare promise; once again upraise
Her heavy spirit, that near drowned lies
In self-consuming care that never dies. 135
_Clo._ I am content to pardon: call her in.—
The air grows cool again, and doth begin
To purge itself: how bright the day doth show
After this stormy cloud!—Go, Satyr, go,
And with this taper boldly try her hand. 140
If she be pure and good, and firmly stand
To be so still, we have perform’d a work
Worthy the gods themselves.
Satyr _brings_ AMARILLIS _in_.
_Sat._ Come forward, maiden; do not lurk,
Nor hide your face with grief and shame; 145
Now or never get a name
That may raise thee, and re-cure
All thy life that was impure.
Hold your hand unto the flame;
If thou be’st a perfect dame, 150
Or hast truly vow’d to mend,
This pale fire will be thy friend.—[_Applies her hand to the taper._]
See, the taper hurts her not!
Go thy ways; let never spot
Henceforth seize upon thy blood: 155
Thank the gods, and still be good.
_Clo._ Young shepherdess, now ye are brought again
To virgin-state, be so, and so remain
To thy last day, unless the faithful love 159
Of some good shepherd force thee to remove;
Then labour to be true to him, and live
As such a one that ever strives to give
A blessed memory to after-time;
Be famous for your good, not for your crime.—
Now, holy man, I offer up again 165
These patients, full of health and free from pain.
Keep them from after-ills; be ever near
Unto their actions; teach them how to clear
The tedious way they pass through from suspect;
Keep them from wronging others, or neglect 170
Of duty in themselves; correct the blood
With thrifty bits[3500] and labour; let the flood,
Or the next neighbouring spring, give remedy
To greedy thirst and travail, not the tree 174
That hangs with wanton clusters; let not wine,
Unless in sacrifice or rites divine,
Be ever known of shepherds; have a care,
Thou man of holy life! Now do not spare
Their faults through much remissness, nor forget 179
To cherish him whose many pains and sweat
Hath giv’n increase and added to the downs.
Sort all your shepherds from the lazy clowns
That feed their heifers in the budded brooms.
Teach the young maidens strictness, that the grooms
May ever fear to tempt their blowing youth, 185
Banish all compliment, but single truth,
From every tongue and every shepherd’s heart;
Let them still use persuading, but no art.
Thus, holy priest, I wish to thee and these
All the best goods and comforts that may please. 190
_All._ And all those blessings Heaven did ever give,
We pray upon this bower may ever live.
_Priest._ Kneel, every shepherd, whilst with powerful hand
I bless your after-labours, and the land
You feed your flocks upon. Great Pan defend you 195
From misfortune, and amend you;
Keep you from those dangers still
That are followed by your will;
Give ye means to know at length,
All your riches, all your strength, 200
Cannot keep your foot from falling
To lewd lust, that still is calling
At your cottage, till his power
Bring again that golden hour
Of peace and rest to every soul; 205
May his care of you control
All diseases, sores, or pain,
That in after-time may reign
Either in your flocks or you;
Give ye all affections new, 210
New desires, and tempers new,
That ye may be ever true!
Now rise, and go; and, as ye pass away,
Sing to the God of Sheep that happy lay
That honest Dorus taught ye,—Dorus, he 215
That was the soul and god of melody.
_They all sing_ [_and strew the ground with flowers_].
THE SONG.
All ye woods, and trees, and bowers,
All ye virtues and ye powers
That inhabit in the lakes,
In the pleasant springs or brakes, 220
Move your feet
To our sound,
Whilst we greet
All this ground
With his honour and his name 225
That defends our flocks from blame.
He is great, and he is just,
He is ever good, and must
Thus be honour’d. Daffadillies,
Roses, pinks, and loved lilies, 230
Let us fling,
Whilst we sing,
Ever holy,
Ever holy,
Ever honour’d, ever young! 235
Thus great Pan is ever sung!
_Exeunt_ [_all except_ CLORIN _and_ Satyr].
_Sat._ Thou divinest, fairest, brightest,
Thou most powerful maid and whitest,
Thou most virtuous and most blessed,
Eyes of stars, and golden-tressed 240
Like Apollo; tell me, sweetest,
What new service now is meetest
For the Satyr? Shall I stray
In the middle air, and stay
The sailing rack,[3501] or nimbly take 245
Hold by the moon, and gently make
Suit to the pale queen of night
For a beam to give thee light?
Shall I dive into the sea,
And bring thee coral, making way 250
Through the rising waves that fall
In snowy fleeces? Dearest, shall
I catch thee wanton fawns, or flies
Whose woven wings the summer dyes
Of many colours? get thee fruit, 255
Or steal from Heaven old Orpheus’ lute?
All these I’ll venture for, and more,
To do her service all these woods adore.
_Clo._ No other service, Satyr, but thy watch
About these thicks,[3502] lest harmless people catch 260
Mischief or sad mischance.
_Sat._ Holy virgin, I will dance
Round about these woods as quick
As the breaking light, and prick[3503]
Down the lawns and down the vales 265
Faster than the windmill sails.
So I take my leave, and pray
All the comforts of the day,
Such as Phoebus’ heat doth send
On the earth, may still befriend 270
Thee and this arbour!
_Clo._ And to thee
All thy master’s love be free! _Exeunt._
THE WILD-GOOSE CHASE
BY JOHN FLETCHER
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
DE GARD, a noble staid Gentleman, that, being newly lighted from
his travels, assists his sister Oriana in her chase of Mirabel the
Wild-Goose. Acted by Mr. Robert Benfield.
LA CASTRE, the indulgent father to Mirabel. Acted by Mr. Richard
Robinson.
MIRABEL the Wild-Goose, a travelled Monsieur, and great defier of all
ladies in the way of marriage, otherwise their much loose servant, at
last caught by the despised Oriana. Incomparably acted by Mr. Joseph
Taylor.
PINAC, his fellow-traveller, of a lively spirit, and servant to the
no less sprightly Lillia Bianca. Admirably well acted by Mr. Thomas
Pollard.
BELLEUR, Companion to both, of a stout blunt humour, in love with
Rosalura. Most naturally acted by Mr. John Lowin.
NANTOLET, father to Rosalura and Lillia Bianca. Acted by Mr. William
Penn.
LUGIER, the rough and confident tutor to the ladies, and chief engine
to entrap the Wild-Goose. Acted by Mr. Hilliard Swanston.
A Young [Man disguised as a] Factor. By Mr. John Hony-man.
[Gentlemen,] Foot-Boy, Singing-Boy, Two [Men disguised as] Merchants,
Priest, Servants.
ORIANA, the fair betrothed of Mirabel, and witty follower of the chase.
Acted by Mr. Steph. Hammerton.
ROSALURA, } the airy daughters of Nantolet.
LILLIA BIANCA, } William Trigg, Sander Gough.
PETELLA, their servant. Mr. Shanck.
MARIANA, an English Courtesan.
Four Women.
SCENE.—_Paris._
ACT I
SCENE I.[3504]
_Enter_ Monsieur DE GARD _and a_ Foot-boy.
_De Gard._ Sirrah, you know I have rid hard; stir my horse well,
And let him want no litter.
_F. Boy._ I am sure I have run hard;
Would somebody would walk me, and see me litter’d,
For I think my fellow-horse cannot in reason 5
Desire more rest, nor take up his chamber before me:
But we are the beasts now, and the beasts are our masters.
_De Gard._ When you have done, step to the ten-crown ordinary——
_F. Boy._ With all my heart, sir; for I have a twenty-crown stomach.
_De Gard._ And there bespeak a dinner.
_F. Boy._ [_going._] Yes, sir, presently.[3505] 10
_De Gard._ For whom, I beseech you, sir?
_F. Boy._ For myself, I take it, sir.
_De Gard._ In truth, you shall not take it; ’t is not meant for you.
There’s for your provender. [_Gives money._] Bespeak a dinner
For Monsieur Mirabel and his companions;
They’ll be in town within this hour. When you have done, sirrah, 15
Make ready all things at my lodging for me,
And wait me there.
_F. Boy._ The ten-crown ordinary?
_De Gard._ Yes, sir, if you have not forgot it.
_F. Boy._ I’ll forget my feet first:
’T is the best part of a footman’s faith. _Exit._
_De Gard._ These youths, 20
For all they have been in Italy to learn thrift,
And seem to wonder at men’s lavish ways,
Yet they cannot rub off old friends, their French itches;
They must meet sometimes to disport their bodies
With good wine and good women, and good store too. 25
Let ’em be what they will, they are arm’d at all points,
And then hang saving, let the sea grow high!
This ordinary can fit ’em of all sizes.
_Enter_ LA CASTRE _and_ ORIANA.
They must salute their country with old customs.
_Ori._ Brother!
_De Gard._ My dearest sister!
_Ori._ Welcome, welcome! 30
Indeed, ye are welcome home, most welcome!
_De Gard._ Thank ye.
You are grown a handsome woman, Oriana
(Blush at your faults): I am wondrous glad to see ye.—
Monsieur La Castre, let not my affection
To my fair sister make me be held unmannerly.
I am glad to see ye well, to see ye lusty, 36
Good health about ye, and in fair company;
Believe me, I am proud——
_La Cast._ Fair sir, I thank ye.
Monsieur De Gard, you are welcome from your journey;
Good men have still good welcome. Give me your hand, sir, 40
Once more, you are welcome home. You look still younger.
_De Gard._ Time has no leisure to look after us;
We wander every where; Age cannot find us.
_La Cast._ And how does all?
_De Gard._ All well, sir, and all lusty.
_La Cast._ I hope my son be so. I doubt not, sir, 45
But you have often seen him in your journeys,
And bring me some fair news.
_De Gard._ Your son is well, sir.
And grown a proper gentleman; he is well and lusty.
Within this eight hours I took leave of him,
And over-hied him, having some slight business
That forc’d me out o’ th’ way. I can assure you, 51
He will be here to-night.
_La Cast._ Ye make me glad, sir,
For, o’ my faith, I almost long to see him.
Methinks, he has been away——
_De Gard._ ’T is but your tenderness.
What are three years? A love-sick wench will allow it. 55
His friends that went out with him are come back too,
Belleur and young Pinac. He bid me say little,
Because he means to be his own glad messenger.
_La Cast._ I thank ye for this news, sir. He shall be welcome,
And his friends too; indeed, I thank you heartily. 60
And how (for I dare say you will not flatter him)
Has Italy wrought on him? Has he mew’d[3506] yet
His wild fantastic toys? They say that climate
Is a great purger of those humorous fluxes.
How is he improved, I pray ye?
_De Gard._ No doubt, sir, well; 65
H’as borne himself a full and noble gentleman:
To speak him farther is beyond my charter.
_La Cast._ I am glad to hear so much good. Come, I see
You long to enjoy your sister; yet I must entreat ye,
Before I go, to sup with me to-night, 70
And must not be deni’d.
_De Gard._ I am your servant.
_La Cast._ Where you shall meet fair, merry, and noble company;
My neighbour Nantolet and his two fair daughters.
_De Gard._ Your supper’s season’d well, sir; I shall wait upon ye.
_La Cast._ Till then I ’ll leave ye; and y’ are once more welcome.
_Exit._ 75
_De Gard._ I thank ye, noble sir! Now, Oriana,
How have ye done since I went? Have ye had your health well?
And your mind free?
_Ori._ You see, I am not bated;
Merry, and eat my meat.
_De Gard._ A good preservative.
And how have you been us’d? You know, Oriana, 80
Upon my going out, at your request,
I left your portion in La Castre’s hands,
The main means you must stick to. For that reason,
And ’t is no little one, I ask ye, sister,
With what humanity he entertains ye, 85
And how ye find his courtesy?
_Ori._ Most ready.
I can assure you, sir, I am us’d most nobly.
_De Gard._ I am glad to hear it; but, I prithee, tell me
And tell me true, what end had you, Oriana,
In trusting your money here? He is no kinsman, 90
Nor any tie upon him of a guardian;
Nor dare I think ye doubt my prodigality.
_Ori._ No, certain, sir; none of all this provoked[3507] me;
Another private reason.
_De Gard._ ’Tis not private,
Nor carried so; ’t is common, my fair sister;
Your love to Mirabel: your blushes tell it. 96
’Tis too much known, and spoken of too largely;
And with no little shame I wonder at it.
_Ori._ Is it a shame to love?
_De Gard._ To love undiscreetly:
A virgin should be tender of her honour, 100
Close, and secure.
_Ori._ I am as close as can be,
And stand upon as strong and honest guards too;
Unless this warlike age need a portcullis:
Yet I confess, I love him.
_De Gard._ Hear the people.
_Ori._ Now, I say, hang the people! He that dares 105
Believe what they say dares be mad, and give
His mother, nay, his own wife, up to rumour.
All grounds of truth they build on is a tavern,
And their best censure’s sack, sack in abundance; 109
For, as they drink, they think: they ne’er speak modestly,
Unless the wine be poor, or they want money.
Believe them! Believe _Amadis de Gaul_,
_The Knight o’ the Sun_, or _Palmerin of England_;
For these, to them, are modest and true stories.
Pray, understand me; if their tongues be truth,
And if _in vino veritas_ be an oracle, 116
What woman is, or has been ever, honest?
Give ’em but ten round cups, they’ll swear Lucretia
Died not for want of power to resist Tarquin,
But want of pleasure, that he stay’d no longer;
And Portia, that was famous for her piety 121
To her lov’d lord, they ’ll face ye out, died o’ th’ pox.
_De Gard._ Well, there is something, sister.
_Ori._ If there be, brother,
’T is none of their things; ’t is not yet so monstrous:
My thing is marriage; and, at his return, 125
I hope to put their squint eyes right again.
_De Gard._ Marriage? ’T is true his father is a rich man,
Rich both in land and money; he his heir,
A young and handsome man, I must confess, too;
But of such qualities, and such wild flings, 130
Such admirable imperfections, sister,
(For all his travel and bought experience,)
I should be loth to own him for my brother.
Methinks, a rich mind in a state indifferent
Would prove the better fortune.
_Ori._ If he be wild, 135
The reclaiming him to good and honest, brother,
Will make much for my honour; which, if I prosper,
Shall be the study of my love, and life too.
_De Gard._ Ye say well; would he thought as well, and loved too!
He marry! He’ll be hanged first. He knows no more 140
What the conditions and the ties of love are,
The honest purposes and grounds of marriage,
Nor will know, nor be ever brought t’ endeavour,
Than I do how to build a church. He was ever
A loose and strong defier of all order; 145
His loves are wanderers, they knock at each door,
And taste each dish, but are no residents.
Or say, he may be brought to think of marriage,
(As ’t will be no small labour), thy hopes are strangers. 149
I know there is a labour’d match now follow’d,
Now at this time, for which he was sent for home too.
Be not abus’d:[3508] Nantolet has two fair daughters,
And he must take his choice.
_Ori._ Let him take freely.
For all this I despair not: my mind tells me
That I, and only I, must make him perfect; 155
And in that hope I rest.
_De Gard._ Since y’ are so confident,
Prosper your hope! I’ll be no adversary;
Keep yourself fair and right, he shall not wrong ye.
_Ori._ When I forget my virtue, no man know me! _Exeunt._
SCENE II.[3509]
_Enter_ MIRABEL, PINAC, BELLEUR, _and_ Servants.
_Mir._ Welcome to Paris, once more, gentlemen!
We have had a merry and a lusty ordinary,
And wine, and good meat, and a bouncing reckoning;
And let it go for once; ’t is a good physic.
Only the wenches are not for my diet; 5
They are too lean and thin, their embraces brawn-fallen.[3510]
Give me the plump Venetian, fat and lusty,
That meets me soft and supple; smiles upon me,
As if a cup of full wine leap’d to kiss me,
These slight things I affect not.
_Pin._ They are ill-built; 10
Pin-buttocked,[3511] like your dainty Barbaries,[3512]
And weak i’ the pasterns; they’ll endure no hardness.
_Mir._ There’s nothing good or handsome bred amongst us;
Till we are travell’d, and live abroad, we are coxcombs.
Ye talk of France—a slight unseason’d country, 15
Abundance of gross food, which makes us blockheads.
We are fair set out indeed, and so are fore-horses:—
Men say, we are great courtiers,—men abuse us;
We are wise, and valiant too,—_non credo, signor_;
Our women the best linguists,—they are parrots; 20
O’ this side the Alps they are nothing but mere drolleries.[3513]
Ha! _Roma la Santa_, Italy for my money!
Their policies, their customs, their frugalities,
Their courtesies so open, yet so reserv’d too,
As, when you think y’ are known best, ye are a stranger. 25
Their very pick-teeth[3514] speak more man than we do,
And season of more salt.
_Pin._ ’T is a brave country;
Not pester’d with your stubborn precise puppies,
That turn all useful and allow’d contentments
To scabs and scruples—hang ’em, capon-worshippers. 30
_Bel._ I like that freedom well, and like their women too,
And would fain do as others do; but I am so bashful,
So naturally an ass! Look ye, I can look upon ’em,
And very willingly I go to see ’em, 34
(There ’s no man willinger), and I can kiss ’em,
And make a shift——
_Mir._ But, if they chance to flout, ye,
Or say, “Ye are too bold! Fie, sir, remember!
I pray, sit farther off——”
_Bel._ ’T is true—I am humbled,
I am gone; I confess ingenuously, I am silenced;
The spirit of amber[3515] cannot force me answer. 40
_Pin._ Then would I sing and dance——
_Bel._ You have wherewithal, sir.
_Pin._ And charge her up again.
_Bel._ I can be hang’d first:
Yet, where I fasten well, I am a tyrant.
_Mir._ Why, thou dar’st fight?
_Bel._ Yes, certainly, I dare fight,
And fight with any man at any weapon. 45
Would th’ other were no more! But, a pox on ’t!
When I am sometimes in my height of hope,
And reasonable valiant that way, my heart harden’d,
Some scornful jest or other chops between me
And my desire. What would ye have me to do, then, gentlemen? 50
_Mir._ Belleur, you must be bolder. Travel three years,
And bring home such a baby to betray ye
As bashfulness! A great fellow, and a soldier!
_Bel._ You have the gift of impudence; be thankful,
Every man has not the like talent. I will study,
And, if it may be reveal’d to me——
_Mir._ Learn of me, 56
And of Pinac. No doubt, you’ll find employment;
Ladies will look for courtship.
_Pin._ ’T is but fleshing,
But standing one good brunt or two. Hast thou any mind to marriage?
We’ll provide thee some soft-natur’d wench, that’s dumb too. 60
_Mir._ Or an old woman that cannot refuse thee in charity.
_Bel._ A dumb woman, or an old woman, that were eager,
And car’d not for discourse, I were excellent at.
_Mir._ You must now put on boldness, there’s no avoiding it,
And stand all hazards, fly at all games bravely;
They’ll say, you went out like an ox, and
return’d like an ass, else. 66
_Bel._ I shall make danger,[3516] sure.
_Mir._ I am sent for home now;
I know it is to marry; but my father shall pardon me:
Although it be a weighty[3517] ceremony, 69
And may concern me hereafter in my gravity,
I will not lose the freedom of a traveller.
A new strong lusty bark cannot ride at one anchor.
Shall I make divers suits to show to the same eyes?
’T is dull and homespun;—study several pleasures,
And want employments for ’em? I’ll be hang’d first. 75
Tie me to one smock? Make my travels fruitless?
I’ll none of that; for every fresh behaviour,
By your leave, father, I must have a fresh mistress,
And a fresh favour[3518] too.
_Bel._ I like that passingly;
As many as you will, so they be willing, 80
Willing, and gentle, gentle.
_Pin._ There’s no reason
A gentleman, and a traveller, should be clapt up,
(For ’t is a kind of bilboes[3519] to be married),
Before he manifest to the world his good parts;
Tug ever, like a rascal, at one oar? 85
Give me the Italian liberty!
_Mir._ That I study.
And that I will enjoy. Come, go in, gentlemen;
There mark how I behave myself, and follow. _Exeunt._
SCENE III.[3520]
_Enter_ LA CASTRE, NANTOLET, LUGIER, ROSALURA, _and_ LILLIA BIANCA.
_La Cast._ You and your beauteous daughters are most welcome.
Beshrew my blood, they are fair ones!—Welcome beauties,
Welcome, sweet birds.
_Nant._ They are bound much to your courtesies.
_La Cast._ I hope we shall be nearer acquainted.
_Nant._ That’s my hope too: 5
For, certain, sir, I much desire your alliance.
You see ’em; they are no gypsies. For their breeding,
It has not been so coarse but they are able
To rank themselves with women of fair fashion;
Indeed, they have been trained well.
_Lug._ Thank me. 10
_Nant._ Fit for the heirs of that state I shall leave ’em:
To say more, is to sell ’em. They say your son,
Now he has travell’d, must be wondrous curious
And choice in what he takes; these are no coarse ones.
Sir, here’s a merry wench—let him look to himself— 15
All heart, i’ faith—may chance to startle him;
For all his care, and travell’d caution,
May creep into his eye. If he love gravity,
Affect a solemn face, there’s one will fit him.
_La Cast._ So young and so demure?
_Nant._ She is my daughter, 20
Else I would tell you, sir, she is a mistress
Both of those manners and that modesty
You would wonder at. She is no often-speaker,
But, when she does, she speaks well; nor no reveller,
Yet she can dance, and has studied the court elements, 25
And sings, as some say, handsomely; if a woman,
With the decency of her sex, may be a scholar,
I can assure ye, sir, she understands too.
_La Cast._ These are fit garments, sir.
_Lug._ Thank them that cut ’em.
Yes, they are handsome women; they have handsome parts too, 30
Pretty becoming parts.
_La Cast._ ’Tis like they have, sir.
_Lug._ Yes, yes, and handsome education they have had too,
Had it abundantly; they need not blush at it.
I taught it, I’ll avouch it.
_La Cast._ Ye say well, sir.
_Lug._ I know what I say, sir, and I say but right, sir. 35
I am no trumpet of their commendations
Before their father; else I should say farther.
_La Cast._ Pray ye, what’s this gentleman?
_Nant._ One that lives with me, sir;
A man well bred and learn’d, but blunt and bitter;
Yet it offends no wise man; I take pleasure in ’t. 40
Many fair gifts he has, in some of which,
That lie most easy to their understandings,
H’as handsomely bred up my girls, I thank him.
[_Lug._] I have put it to ’em, that ’s my part, I have urg’d it.
It seems, they are of years now to take hold on ’t. 45
_Nant._ He ’s wondrous blunt.
_La Cast._ By my faith, I was afraid of him.
Does he not fall out with the gentlewomen sometimes?
_Nant._ No, no; he ’s that way moderate and discreet, sir.
_Ros._ If he did, we should be too hard for him.
_Lug._ Well said, sulphur! 50
Too hard for thy husband’s head, if he wear not armour.
_Enter_ MIRABEL, PINAC, BELLEUR, DE GARD, _and_ ORIANA.
_Nant._ Many of these bickerings, sir.
_La Cast._ I am glad they are no oracles.
Sure as I live, he beats them, he ’s so puissant.
_Ori._ Well, if ye do forget——
_Mir._ Prithee, hold thy peace. 55
I know thou art a pretty wench; I know thou lov’st me;
Preserve it till we have a fit time to discourse on ’t,
And a fit place. I’ll ease thy heart, I warrant thee.
Thou seest I have much to do now.
_Ori._ I am answer’d, sir:
With me ye shall have nothing on these conditions. 60
_De Gard._ Your father and your friends.
_La Cast._ You are welcome home, sir;
Bless ye, ye are very welcome! Pray, know this gentleman,
And these fair ladies.
_Nant._ Monsieur Mirabel,
I am much affected with your fair return, sir;
You bring a general joy.
_Mir._ I bring you service, 65
And these bright beauties, sir.
_Nant._ Welcome home, gentlemen,
Welcome with all my heart!
_Bel. & Pin._ We thank ye, sir.
_La Cast._ Your friends will have their share too.
_Bel._ Sir, we hope
They ’ll look upon us, though we show like strangers.
_Nant._ Monsieur De Gard, I must salute you also, 70
And this fair gentlewoman; you are welcome from your travel too.
All welcome, all.
_De Gard._ We render ye our loves, sir.
The best wealth we bring home.—By your favours, beauties.—
[_Aside to Ori._] One of these two: you know my meaning.
_Ori._ Well, sir;
They are fair and handsome, I must needs confess it, 75
And, let it prove the worst, I shall live after it.
Whilst I have meat and drink, love cannot starve me;
For, if I die o’ th’ first fit, I am unhappy,
And worthy to be buried with my heels upward.
_Mir._ To marry, sir?
_La Cast._ You know I am an old man, 80
And every hour declining to my grave,
One foot already in; more sons I have not,
Nor more I dare not seek whilst you are worthy.
In you lies all my hope, and all my name,
The making good or wretched of my memory, 85
The safety of my state.
_Mir._ And you have provided,
Out of this tenderness, these handsome gentlewomen,
Daughters to this rich man, to take my choice of?
_La Cast._ I have, dear son.
_Mir._ ’T is true, ye are old and feebled;
Would ye were young again, and in full vigour! 90
I love a bounteous father’s life, a long one:
I am none of those that, when they shoot to ripeness,
Do what they can to break the boughs they grew on.
I wish ye many years and many riches,
And pleasures to enjoy ’em; but, for marriage, 95
I neither yet believe in ’t, nor affect[3521] it;
Nor think it fit.
_La Cast._ You will render me your reasons?
_Mir._ Yes, sir, both short and pithy, and these they are:—
You would have me marry a maid?
_La Cast._ A maid! what else?
_Mir._ Yes, there be things called widows, dead men’s wills, 100
I never lov’d to prove those; nor never long’d yet
To be buried alive in another man’s cold monument.
And there be maids appearing, and maids being:
The appearing are fantastic things, mere shadows;
And, if you mark ’em well, they want their heads, too; 105
Only the world, to cozen[3522] misty eyes,
Has clapt ’em on new faces: the maids being
A man may venture on, if he be so mad to marry,
If he have neither fear before his eyes, nor fortune;
And let him take heed how he gather these too; 110
For, look ye, father, they are just like melons,
Musk-melons are the emblems of these maids;
Now they are ripe, now cut ’em, they taste pleasantly,
And are a dainty fruit, digested easily;
Neglect this present time, and come to-morrow, 115
They are so ripe they are rotten gone, their sweetness
Run into humour, and their taste to surfeit.
_La Cast._ Why, these are now ripe, son.
_Mir._ I ’ll try them presently,
And, if I like their taste——
_La Cast._ ’Pray ye, please yourself, sir.
_Mir._ That liberty is my due, and I ’ll maintain it.— 120
Lady, what think you of a handsome man now?
_Ros._ A wholesome too, sir?
_Mir._ That’s as you make your bargain.
A handsome, wholesome man, then, and a kind man,
To cheer your heart up, to rejoice ye, lady?
_Ros._ Yes, sir, I love rejoicing.
_Mir._ To lie close to ye? 125
Close as a cockle? Keep the cold nights from ye?
_Ros._ That will be look’d for too; our bodies ask it.
_Mir._ And get two boys at every birth?
_Ros._ That’s nothing?
I have known a cobbler do it, a poor thin cobbler,
A cobbler out of mouldy cheese perform it, 130
Cabbage, and coarse black bread. Methinks, a gentleman
Should take foul scorn to have an awl out-name[3523] him.
Two at a birth! Why, every house-dove has it.
That man that feeds well, promises as well too,
I should expect indeed something of worth from. 135
You talk of two!
_Mir._ [_Aside._] She would have me get two dozen.
Like buttons, at a birth.
_Ros._ You love to brag, sir.
If you proclaim these offers at your marriage,
(Ye are a pretty-timber’d man, take heed.)
They may be taken hold of, and expected, 140
Yes, if not hoped for at a higher rate too.
_Mir._ I will take heed, and thank ye for your counsel.
Father, what think ye?
_La Cast._ ’T is a merry gentlewoman;
Will make, no doubt, a good wife.
_Mir._ Not for me.
I marry her, and, happily,[3524] get nothing: 145
In what a state am I then, father? I shall suffer.
For any thing I hear to the contrary, _more majorum_;
I were as sure to be a cuckold, father,
A gentleman of antler——
_La Cast._ Away, away, fool!
_Mir._ As I am sure to fail her expectation. 150
I had rather get the pox than get her babies.
_La Cast._ Ye are much to blame. If this do not affect[3525] ye,
Pray, try the other; she ’s of a more demure way.
_Bel._ [_Aside._] That I had but the audacity to talk thus!
I love that plain-spoken gentlewoman admirably; 155
And, certain, I could go as near to please her,
If down-right doing—she has a per’lous countenance—
If I could meet one that would believe me,
And take my honest meaning without circumstance——
_Mir._ You shall have your will, sir; I will try the other; 160
But ’t will be to small use.—I hope, fair lady,
(For, methinks, in your eyes I see more mercy,)
You will enjoin your lover a less penance;
And though I ’ll promise much, as men are liberal,
And vow an ample sacrifice of service, 165
Yet your discretion, and your tenderness,
And thriftiness in love, good huswife’s carefulness
To keep the stock entire——
_Lil._ Good sir, speak louder.
That these may witness, too, you talk of nothing.
I should be loth alone to bear the burden 170
Of so much indiscretion.
_Mir._ Hark ye, hark ye!
’Ods-bobs,[3526] you are angry, lady.
_Lil._ Angry! no, sir;
I never own’d an anger to lose poorly.
_Mir._ But you can love, for all this; and delight too.
For all your set austerity to hear 175
Of a good husband, lady?
_Lil._ You say true, sir;
For, by my troth, I have heard of none these ten year,
They are so rare; and there are so many, sir,
So many longing women on their knees too,
That pray the dropping-down of these good husbands— 180
The dropping-down from Heaven; for they are not bred here—
That you may guess at all my hope, but hearing——
_Mir._ Why may not I be one?
_Lil._ You were near ’em once, sir.
When ye came o’er the Alps; those are near Heaven.
But since ye miss’d that happiness, there’s no hope of ye. 185
_Mir._ Can ye love a man?
_Lil._ Yes, if the man be lovely,
That is, be honest, modest. I would have him valiant,
His anger slow, but certain for his honour;
Travell’d he should be, but through himself exactly,
For ’t is fairer to know manners well than countries. 190
He must be no vain talker, nor no lover
To hear himself talk; they are brags of a wanderer,
Of one finds no retreat for fair behaviour.
Would ye learn more?
_Mir._ Yes.
_Lil._ Learn to hold your peace, then:
Fond[3527] girls are got with tongues, women with tempers. 195
_Mir._ Women, with I know what; but let that vanish.
Go thy way, good-wife Bias! Sure, thy husband
Must have a strong philosopher’s stone, he will ne’er please
thee else.—
Here ’s a starch’d piece of austerity!—Do you hear, father?
Do you hear this moral lecture?
_La Cast._ Yes, and like it. 200
_Mir._ Why, there’s your judgment now; there’s an old bolt shot!
This thing must have the strangest observation,[3528]
(Do you mark me, father?) when she is married once,
The strangest custom too of admiration
On all she does and speaks, ’t will be past sufferance. 205
I must not lie with her in common language.
Nor cry, “Have at thee, Kate!”—I shall be hiss’d then;
Nor eat my meat without the sauce of sentences,
Your powder’d beef and problems, a rare diet!
My first son, Monsieur Aristotle, I know it, 210
Great master of the metaphysics, or so;
The second, Solon, and the best law-setter;
And I must look[3529] Egyptian god-fathers,
Which will be no small trouble; my eldest daughter,
Sappho, or such a fiddling kind of poetess. 215
And brought up, _invita Minerva_, at her needle!
My dogs must look their names too, and all Spartan,
Lelaps, Melampus; no more Fox and Bawdy-face.
I married to a sullen set of sentences!
To one that weighs her words and her behaviours 220
In the gold-weights[3530] of discretion! I ’ll be hang’d first.
_La Cast._ Prithee, reclaim thyself.
_Mir._ Pray ye, give me time, then.
If they can set me any thing to play at,
That seems fit for a gamester, have at the fairest,
Till I see more, and try more!
_La Cast._ Take your time, then; 225
I’ll bar ye no fair liberty.—Come, gentlemen;
And ladies, come; to all, once more, a welcome!
And, now let’s in to supper.
[_Exeunt_ LA CASTRE, NANTOLET, LUGIER, ROSALURA, _and_ LILLIA BIANCA.]
_Mir._ How dost like ’em?
_Pin._ They are fair enough, but of so strange behaviours—— 230
_Mir._ Too strange for me. I must have those have mettle.
And mettle to my mind. Come, let’s be merry.
_Bel._ Bless me from this woman! I would stand the cannon,
Before ten words of hers.
[_Exeunt_ MIRABEL, PINAC, _and_ BELLEUR.]
_De Gard._ Do you find him now?
Do you think he will be ever firm?
_Ori._ I fear not. [_Exeunt._] 235
ACT II
SCENE I.[3531]
_Enter_ MIRABEL, PINAC, _and_ BELLEUR.
_Mir._ Ne’er tell me of this happiness; ’t is nothing:
The state[3532] they bring with being sought-to,[3533] scurvy:
I had rather make mine own play, and I will do.
My happiness is in mine own content,
And the despising of such glorious[3534] trifles, 5
As I have done a thousand more. For my humour,
Give me a good free fellow, that sticks to me,
A jovial fair companion; there’s a beauty!
For women, I can have too many of them;
Good women too, as the age reckons ’em, 10
More than I have employment for.
_Pin._ You are happy.
_Mir._ My only fear is, that I must be forced,
Against my nature, to conceal myself:
Health and an able body are two jewels.
_Pin._ If either of these two women were offered to me now, 15
I would think otherwise, and do accordingly;
Yes, and recant my heresies; I would,[3535] sir;
And be more tender of opinion,
And put a little of my travell’d liberty
Out of the way, and look upon ’em seriously. 20
Methinks, this grave-carried wench——
_Bel._ Methinks, the other,
The home-spoken gentlewoman, that desires to be fruitful,
That treats of the full manage of the matter,
(For there lies all my aim,) that wench, methinks, 25
If I were but well set on, for she is affable,
If I were but hounded right, and one to teach me—
She speaks to th’ matter, and comes home to th’ point—
Now do I know I have such a body to please her
As all the kingdom cannot fit her with, I am sure on ’t, 30
If I could but talk myself into her favour.
_Mir._ That ’s easily done.
_Bel._ That ’s easily said; would ’t were done!
You should see then how I would lay about me.
If I were virtuous, it would never grieve me,
Or any thing that might justify my modesty; 35
But when my nature is prone to do a charity,
And my calf’s tongue will not help me——
_Mir._ Will ye go to ’em?
They cannot but take it courteously.
_Pin._ I ’ll do my part.
Though I am sure ’t will be the hardest I e’er play’d yet 39
A way I never tried too, which will stagger me;
And, if it do not shame me, I am happy.
_Mir._ Win ’em, and wear ’em; I give up my interest.
_Pin._ What say you. Monsieur Belleur?
_Bel._ Would I could say,
Or sing, or any thing that were but handsome!
I would be with her presently!
_Pin._ Yours is no venture; 45
A merry ready wench.
_Bel._ A vengeance squibber;[3536]
She ’ll fleer me out of faith too.
_Mir._ I ’ll be near thee;
Pluck up thy heart; I ’ll second thee at all brunts.[3537]
Be angry, if she abuse thee, and beat her a little;
Some women are won that way.
_Bel._ Pray, be quiet, 50
And let me think: I am resolv’d to go on;
But how I shall get off again——
_Mir._ I am persuaded
Thou wilt so please her, she will go near to ravish thee.
_Bel._ I would ’t were come to that once! Let me pray a little.
_Mir._ Now, for thine honour, Pinac, board me this modesty; 55
Warm but this frozen snow-ball, ’t will be a conquest
(Although I know thou art a fortunate wencher,
And hast done rarely in thy days) above all thy ventures.
_Bel._ You will be ever near?
_Mir._ At all necessities; 59
And take thee off, and set thee on again, boy,
And cherish thee, and stroke thee.
_Bel._ Help me out too;
For I know I shall stick i’ th’ mire. If you see us close once,
Be gone, and leave me to my fortune, suddenly,
For I am then determin’d to do wonders.
Farewell, and fling an old shoe. How my heart throbs! 65
Would I were drunk! Farewell, Pinac; Heaven send us
A joyful and a merry meeting, man!
_Pin._ Farewell,
And cheer thy heart up; and remember, Belleur,
They are but women.
_Bel._ I had rather they were lions.
_Mir._ About it; I ’ll be with you instantly.—
_Exeunt_ [BELLEUR _and_ PINAC].
_Enter_ ORIANA.
Shall I ne’er be at rest? No peace of conscience? 71
No quiet for these creatures? Am I ordain’d
To be devour’d quick[3538] by these she-cannibals?
Here ’s another they call handsome; I care not for her,
I ne’er look after her. When I am half-tippled,
It may be I should turn her, and peruse her; 76
Or, in my want of women, I might call for her;
But to be haunted when I have no fancy,
No maw to th’ matter—[_Aside._] Now, why do you follow me? 79
_Ori._ I hope, sir, ’t is no blemish to my virtue;
Nor need you, out of scruple, ask that question,
If you remember ye, before your travel,
The contract you tied to me. ’T is my love, sir,
That makes me seek ye, to confirm your memory;
And, that being fair and good, I cannot suffer.
I come to give ye thanks too.
_Mir._ For what, prithee? 86
_Ori._ For that fair piece of honesty you show’d sir,
That constant nobleness.
_Mir._ How? for I am short-headed.
_Ori._ I ’ll tell you then; for refusing that free offer
Of Monsieur Nantolet’s, those handsome beauties, 90
Those two prime ladies, that might well have press’d ye
If not to have broken, yet to have bow’d your promise.
I know it was for my sake, for your faith-sake,
You slipt ’em off; your honesty compell’d ye;
And let me tell ye, sir, it show’d most handsomely. 95
_Mir._ And let me tell thee, there was no such matter;
Nothing intended that way, of that nature.
I have more to do with my honesty than to fool it,
Or venture it in such leak barks as women.
I put ’em off because I lov’d ’em not, 100
Because they are too queasy[3539] for my temper,
And not for thy sake, nor the contract-sake,
Nor vows, nor oaths; I have made a thousand of ’em;
They are things indifferent, whether kept or broken;
Mere venial slips, that grow not near the conscience; 105
Nothing concerns those tender parts; they are trifles;
For, as I think, there was never man yet hop’d for
Either constancy or secrecy from a woman,
Unless it were an ass ordain’d for sufferance;
Nor to contract with such can be a tie-all. 110
So let them know again; for ’t is a justice
And a main point of civil policy,
Whate’er we say or swear, they being reprobates,
Out of the state of faith, we are clear of all sides,
And ’t is a curious blindness to believe us. 115
_Ori._ You do not mean this, sure?
_Mir._ Yes, sure, and certain;
And hold it positively, as a principle,
As ye are strange things, and made of strange fires and fluxes,
So we are allow’d as strange ways to obtain ye,
But not to hold; we are all created errant. 120
_Ori._ You told me other tales.
_Mir._ I not deny it;
I have tales of all sorts for all sorts of women,
And protestations likewise of all sizes,
As they have vanities to make us coxcombs.
If I obtain a good turn, so it is, 125
I am thankful for it; if I be made an ass,
The ’mends are in mine own hands, or the surgeon’s.
And there’s an end on ’t.
_Ori._ Do not you love me, then?
_Mir._ As I love others; heartily I love thee;
When I am high and lusty, I love thee cruelly.
After I have made a plenteous meal, and satisfied 131
My senses with all delicates, come to me,
And thou shalt see how I love thee.
_Ori._ Will not you marry me?
_Mir._ No, certain, no, for any thing I know yet.
I must not lose my liberty, dear lady, 136
And, like a wanton slave, cry for more shackles.
What should I marry for? Do I want any thing?
Am I an inch the farther from my pleasure?
Why should I be at charge to keep a wife of mine own, 140
When other honest married men will ease me.
And thank me too, and be beholding to me?
Thou think’st I am mad for a maidenhead; thou art cozen’d:
Or, if I were addicted to that diet,
Can you tell me where I should have one? Thou art eighteen now, 145
And, if thou hast thy maidenhead yet extant,
Sure, ’t is as big as cods-head; and those grave dishes
I never love to deal withal. Dost thou see this book here?
[_Shows a book._]
Look over all these ranks; all these are women,
Maids, and pretenders to maidenheads; these are my conquests; 150
All these I swore to marry, as I swore to thee,
With the same reservation, and most righteously:
Which I need not have done neither; for, alas, they made no scruple,
And I enjoy’d ’em at my will, and left ’em.
Some of ’em are married since, and were as pure maids again, 155
Nay, o’ my conscience, better than they were bred for;
The rest, fine sober women.
_Ori._ Are ye not ashamed, sir?
_Mir._ No, by my troth, sir;[3540] there ’s no shame belongs to it;
I hold it as commendable to be wealthy in pleasure,
As others do in rotten sheep and pasture. 160
_Enter_ DE GARD.
_Ori._ Are all my hopes come to this? Is there no faith,
No troth, nor modesty, in men? [_Weeps._]
_De Gard._ How now, sister?
Why weeping thus? Did I not prophesy?
Come, tell me why—
_Ori._ I am not well; pray ye pardon me. _Exit._
_De Gard._ Now, Monsieur Mirabel, what ails my sister? 165
You have been playing the wag with her.
_Mir._ As I take it,
She is crying for a cod-piece. Is she gone?
Lord, what an age is this! I was calling for ye;
For, as I live, I thought she would have ravish’d me.
_De Gard._ Ye are merry, sir. 170
_Mir._ Thou know’st this book, De Gard, this inventory?
_De Gard._ The debt-book of your mistresses; I remember it.
_Mir._ Why, this was it that anger’d her; she was stark mad
She found not her name here; and cried downright
Because I would not pity her immediately, 175
And put her in my list.
_De Gard._ Sure, she had more modesty.
_Mir._ Their modesty is anger to be overdone;
They’ll quarrel sooner for precedence here,
And take it in more dudgeon to be slighted,
Than they will in public meetings; ’t is their natures: 180
And, alas, I have so many to despatch yet,
And to provide myself for my affairs too,
That, in good faith——
_De Gard._ Be not too glorious[3541] foolish;
Sum not your travels up with vanities;
It ill becomes your expectation.[3542] 185
Temper your speech, sir: whether your loose story
Be true or false, (for you are so free, I fear it,)
Name not my sister in ’t; I must not hear it.
Upon your danger, name her not! I hold her
A gentlewoman of those happy parts and carriage, 190
A good man’s tongue may be right proud to speak her.
_Mir._ Your sister, sir! D’ ye blench at that? D’ ye cavil?
Do you hold her such a piece she may not be play’d withal?
I have had an hundred handsomer and nobler
Have su’d to me, too, for such a courtesy; 195
Your sister comes i’ the rear. Since ye are so angry,
And hold your sister such a strong recusant,
I tell ye, I may do it; and, it may be, will too;
It may be, have too; there ’s my free confession;
Work upon that now!
_De Gard._ If I thought ye had, I would work,
And work such stubborn work should make your heart ache: 201
But I believe ye, as I ever knew ye,
A glorious talker, and a legend-maker
Of idle tales and trifles; a depraver 204
Of your own truth: their honours fly about[3543] ye!
And so, I take my leave; but with this caution,
Your sword be surer than your tongue; you ’ll smart else.
_Mir._ I laugh at thee, so little I respect thee;
And I ’ll talk louder, and despise thy sister; 209
Set up a chamber-maid that shall outshine her.
And carry her in my coach too, and that will kill her.
Go, get thy rents up, go!
_De Gard._ Ye are a fine gentleman! _Exit._
_Mir._ Now, have at my two youths! I ’ll see how they do;
How they behave themselves; and then I ’ll study
What wench shall love me next, and when I ’ll loose[3544] her.
_Exit._ 215
SCENE II.[3545]
_Enter_ PINAC _and_ Servant.
_Pin._ Art thou her servant, sayest thou?
_Serv._ Her poor creature;
But servant to her horse, sir.
_Pin._ Canst thou show me
The way to her chamber, or where I may conveniently
See her, or come to talk to her?
_Serv._ That I can, sir;
But the question is, whether I will or no.
_Pin._ Why, I ’ll content thee. 5
_Serv._ Why, I ’ll content thee, then; now ye come to me.
_Pin._ There ’s for your diligence. [_Gives money._]
_Serv._ There ’s her chamber, sir.
And this way she comes out; stand ye but here, sir,
You have her at your prospect or your pleasure.
_Pin._ Is she not very angry?
_Serv._ You ’ll find that quickly.
May be she ’ll call ye saucy, scurvy fellow, 11
Or some such familiar name; may be she knows ye
And will fling a piss-pot at ye, or a pantofle,[3546]
According as ye are in acquaintance. If she like ye,
May be she ’ll look upon ye; may be no; 15
And two months hence call for ye.
_Pin._ This is fine.
She is monstrous proud, then?
_Serv._ She is a little haughty;
Of a small body, she has a mind well mounted.
Can you speak Greek?
_Pin._ No, certain.
_Serv._ Get ye gone, then!—
And talk of stars, and firmaments, and firedrakes? 20
Do you remember who was Adam’s schoolmaster,
And who taught Eve to spin? She knows all these,
And will run ye over the beginning o’ th’ world
As familiar as a fiddler.
Can you sit seven hours together, and say nothing? 25
Which she will do, and, when she speaks, speak oracles,
Speak things that no man understands, nor herself neither.
_Pin._ Thou mak’st me wonder.
_Serv._ Can ye smile?
_Pin._ Yes, willingly;
For naturally I bear a mirth about me.
_Serv._ She ’ll ne’er endure ye, then; she is never merry; 30
If she see one laugh, she ’ll swound past _aqua vitae_.
Never come near her, sir; if ye chance to venture,
And talk not like a doctor, you are damn’d too.
I have told ye enough for your crown, and so, good speed you! _Exit._
_Pin._ I have a pretty task, if she be thus curious, 35
As, sure, it seems she is! If I fall off now,
I shall be laugh’d at fearfully; if I go forward,
I can but be abus’d, and that I look for;
And yet I may hit right, but ’t is unlikely.
Stay: in what mood and figure shall I attempt her? 40
A careless way? No, no, that will not waken her:
Besides, her gravity will give me line still,
And let me lose myself: yet this way often
Has hit, and handsomely. A wanton method?
Ay, if she give it leave to sink into her consideration: 45
But there’s the doubt: if it but stir her blood once,
And creep into the crannies of her fancy,
Set her a-gog;—but, if she chance to slight it,
And by the power of her modesty fling it back,
I shall appear the arrant’st rascal to her, 50
The most licentious knave, for I shall talk lewdly.
To bear myself austerely? Rate my words?
And fling a general gravity about me.
As if I meant to give laws? But this I cannot do.
This is a way above my understanding; 55
Or, if I could, ’t is odds she’ll think I mock her;
For serious and sad things are ever still suspicious.
Well, I ’ll say something:
But learning I have none, and less good manners,
Especially for ladies. Well I ’ll set my best face. 60
_Enter_ LILLIA BIANCA _and_ PETELLA.
I hear some coming. This is the first woman
I ever fear’d yet, the first face that shakes me. [_Retires._]
_Lil._ Give me my hat, Petella; take this veil off,
This sullen cloud; it darkens my delights.
Come, wench, be free, and let the music warble:— 65
Play me some lusty measure.
[_Music within_, _to which presently_ LILLIA _dances_.]
_Pin._ [_Aside._] This is she, sure,
The very same I saw, the very woman,
The gravity I wonder’d at. Stay, stay;
Let me be sure. Ne’er trust me, but she danceth!
Summer is in her face now, and she skippeth!
I ’ll go a little nearer. 71
_Lil._ Quicker time, fellows!
_Enter_ MIRABEL [_and remains at the side of the stage_].
I cannot find my legs yet—Now Petella!
_Pin._ [_Aside._] I am amaz’d; I am founder’d in my fancy!
_Mir._ [_Aside._] Ha! say you so? Is this your gravity? 75
This the austerity you put upon you?
I ’ll see more o’ this sport.
_Lil._ A song now!
Call in for a merry and a light song;
And sing it with a liberal spirit.
_Enter a_ Man.
_Man._ Yes, madam. 80
_Lil._ And be not amaz’d, sirrah, but take us for your own company.—
[_A song by the_ Man _who then exit_.]
Let ’s walk ourselves; come, wench. Would we had a man or two!
_Pin._ [_Aside._] Sure, she has spi’d me, and will abuse me dreadfully.
She has put on this for the purpose: yet I will try her.—
[_Advances._]
Madam, I would be loth my rude intrusion, 85
Which I must crave a pardon for——
_Lil._ Oh, ye are welcome,
Ye are very welcome, sir! We want such a one.
Strike up again!—I dare presume ye dance well:
Quick, quick, sir, quick! the time steals on.
_Pin._ I would talk with you.
_Lil._ Talk as you dance. [_They dance._]
_Mir._ [_Aside._] She ’ll beat him off his legs first. 90
This is the finest masque!
_Lil._ Now, how do ye, sir?
_Pin._ You have given me a shrewd heat.
_Lil._ I ’ll give you a hundred.
Come, sing now, sing: for I know ye sing well;
I see ye have a singing face.
_Pin._ [_Aside._] A fine modesty!
If I could, she’d never give me breath.—Madam, would 95
I might sit and recover!
_Lil._ Sit here, and sing now;
Let ’s do things quickly, sir, and handsomely.—
Sit close, wench, close.—Begin, begin.
_Pin._ I am lesson’d. _A song_ [_by_ PINAC].
_Lil._ ’T is very pretty, i’ faith. Give me some wine now. 100
_Pin._ I would fain speak to you.
_Lil._ You shall drink first, believe me.
Here ’s to you a lusty health. [_They drink._]
_Pin._ I thank you, lady.—
[_Aside._] Would I were off again! I smell my misery;
I was never put to this rack: I shall be drunk too.
_Mir._ [_Aside._] If thou be’st not a right one, I
have lost mine aim much: 105
I thank Heaven that I have scaped thee. To her, Pinac!
For thou art as sure to have her, and to groan for her.—
I’ll see how my other youth does; this speeds trimly.
A fine grave gentlewoman, and worth much honour! _Exit._
_Lil._ Now, how do ye like me, sir?
_Pin._ I like ye rarely. 110
_Lil._ Ye see, sir, though sometimes we are grave and silent,
And put on sadder dispositions,
Yet we are compounded of free parts, and sometimes too
Our lighter, airy, and our fiery mettles
Break out, and show themselves: and what think you of that, sir? 115
_Pin._ Good lady, sit (for I am very weary),
And then I ’ll tell ye.
_Lil._ Fie! a young man idle!
Up, and walk: be still in action;
The motions of the body are fair beauties;
Besides, ’t is cold. ’Ods me, sir, let’s walk faster!
What think ye now of the Lady Felicia? 121
And Bellafronte, the duke’s fair daughter? ha!
Are they not handsome things? There is Duarta.
And brown Olivia——
_Pin._ I know none of ’em.
_Lil._ But brown must not be cast away, sir. If young Lelia 125
Had kept herself till this day from a husband,
Why, what a beauty, sir! You know Ismena,
The fair gem of Saint-Germains?
_Pin._ By my troth, I do not.
_Lil._ And, then, I know, you must hear of Brisac,
How unlike a gentleman——
_Pin._ As I live, I have heard nothing, 130
_Lil._ Strike me another galliard![3547]
_Pin._ By this light, I cannot!
In troth, I have sprain’d my leg, madam.
_Lil._ Now sit ye down, sir,
And tell me why ye came hither? Why ye chose me out?
What is your business? Your errand? Despatch, despatch.
Maybe, you are some gentleman’s man, and I mistook ye, 135
That have brought me a letter, or a haunch of venison,
Sent me from some friend of mine.
_Pin._ Do I look like a carrier?
You might allow me, what I am, a gentleman.
_Lil._ Cry ye mercy, sir! I saw ye yesterday;
You are new-come out of travel; I mistook ye. 140
And how do all our impudent friends in Italy?
_Pin._ Madam, I came with duty, and fair courtesy,
Service, and honour to ye.
_Lil._ Ye came to jeer me.
Ye see I am merry, sir; I have chang’d my copy;
None of the sages now: and, pray ye, proclaim it. 145
Fling on me what aspersion you shall please, sir,
Of wantonness or wildness; I look for it;
And tell the world I am an hypocrite,
Mask in a forc’d and borrow’d shape; I expect it;
But not to have you believ’d: for, mark ye, sir, 150
I have won a nobler estimation,
A stronger tie, by my discretion,
Upon opinion (howe’r you think I forc’d it)
Than either tongue or art of yours can slubber;
And, when I please, I will be what I please, sir, 155
So I exceed not mean;[3548] and none shall brand it,
Either with scorn or shame, but shall be slighted.
_Pin._ Lady, I come to love ye.
_Lil._ Love yourself, sir;
And, when I want observers,[3549] I ’ll send for ye.
Heigh-ho! my fit ’s almost off; for we do all by fits, sir. 160
If ye be weary, sit till I come again to ye.
_Exit_ [_with_ PETELLA].
_Pin._ This is a wench of a dainty spirit; but
Hang me, if I know yet either what to think
Or make of her. She had her will of me,
And baited me abundantly, I thank her; 165
And, I confess, I never was so blurted,[3550]
Nor never so abus’d. I must bear mine own sins.
Ye talk of travels; here ’s a curious country!
Yet I will find her out, or forswear my faculty. _Exit._
SCENE III.[3551]
_Enter_ ROSALURA _and_ ORIANA.
_Ros._ Ne’er vex yourself, nor grieve; ye are a fool, then.
_Ori._ I am sure I am made so: yet, before I suffer
Thus like a girl, and give him leave to triumph——
_Ros._ You say right; for, as long as he perceives ye
Sink under his proud scornings, he ’ll laugh at ye. 5
For me, secure yourself; and, for my sister,
I partly know her mind too: howsoever,
To obey my father, we have made a tender
Of our poor beauties to the travell’d monsieur;
Yet two words to a bargain. He slights us 10
As skittish things, and we shun him as curious.[3552]
May be, my free behaviour turns his stomach,
And makes him seem to doubt a loose opinion.[3553]
I must be so sometimes, though all the world saw it.
_Ori._ Why should not ye? Are our minds only measur’d? 15
As long as here ye stand secure——
_Ros._ Ye say true;
As long as mine own conscience makes no question,
What care I for report? That woman ’s miserable,
That ’s good or bad for their tongues’ sake. Come, let ’s retire,
And get my veil, wench. By my troth, your sorrow, 20
And the consideration of men’s humorous maddings,
Have put me into a serious contemplation.
_Enter_ MIRABEL _and_ BELLEUR.
_Ori._ Come, faith, let ’s sit and think.
_Ros._ That ’s all my business.
[_They go into the summer-house_, _and sit down_, ROSALURA _having
taken her veil from a table_, _and put it on_.][3554]
_Mir._ Why stand’st thou peeping here? Thou great slug, forward!
_Bel._ She is there; peace!
_Mir._ Why stand’st thou here, then, 25
Sneaking and peeking[3555] as thou wouldst steal linen?
Hast thou not place and time?
_Bel._ I had a rare speech
Studied, and almost ready; and your violence
Has beat it out of my brains.
_Mir._ Hang your rare speeches!
Go me on like a man.
_Bel._ Let me set my beard up. 30
How has Pinac performed?
_Mir._ He has won already;
He stands not thrumming[3556] of caps thus.
_Bel._ Lord, what should I ail!
What a cold I have over my stomach! Would I had some hum![3557]
Certain I have a great mind to be at her,
A mighty mind.
_Mir._ On, fool!
_Bel._ Good words, I beseech ye; 35
For I will not be abus’d by both.
_Mir._ Adieu, then
(I will not trouble you; I see you are valiant);
And work your own way.
_Bel._ Hist, hist! I will be rul’d;
I will, i’ faith; I will go presently.
Will ye forsake me now, and leave me i’ th’ suds? 40
You know I am false-hearted this way. I beseech ye,
Good sweet Mirabel—I ’ll cut your throat, if ye leave me,
Indeed I will—sweet-heart—
_Mir._ I will be ready,
Still at thine elbow. Take a man’s heart to thee,
And speak thy mind; the plainer still the better. 45
She is a woman of that free behaviour,
Indeed, that common courtesy, she cannot deny thee.
Go bravely on.
_Bel._ Madam—keep close about me.
Still at my back—Madam, sweet madam—
_Ros._ Ha!
What noise is that? What saucy sound to trouble me? 50
_Mir._ What said she?
_Bel._ I am saucy.
[ROSALURA _and_ ORIANA _rise and come forward_.]
_Mir._ ’T is the better.
_Bel._ She comes; must I be saucy still?
_Mir._ More saucy.
_Ros._ Still troubled with these vanities? Heaven bless us!
What are we born to?—Would you speak with any of my people?
Go in, sir; I am busy.
_Bel._ This is not she, sure: 55
Is this two children at a birth? I ’ll be hang’d, then:
Mine was a merry gentlewoman, talk’d daintily,
Talked of those matters that befitted women;
This is a parcel prayer-book.[3558] I ’m serv’d sweetly!
And now I am to look to; I was prepar’d for th’ other way. 60
_Ros._ Do you know that man?
_Ori._ Sure, I have seen him, lady.
_Ros._ Methinks ’t is pity such a lusty fellow
Should wander up and down, and want employment.
_Bel._ She takes me for a rogue!—You may do well, madam,
To stay this wanderer, and set him a-work, forsooth; 65
He can do something that may please your ladyship.
I have heard of women that desire good breedings,
Two at a birth, or so.
_Ros._ The fellow ’s impudent.
_Ori._ Sure, he is craz’d.
_Ros._ I have heard of men too that have had good manners. 70
Sure, this is want of grace: indeed, ’t is great pity
The young man has been bred so ill; but this lewd age
Is full of such examples.
_Bel._ I am founder’d.
And some shall rue the setting of me on.
_Mir._ Ha! so bookish, lady? Is it possible?
Turn’d holy at the heart too? I ’ll be hang’d then: 76
Why, this is such a feat, such an activity,
Such fast and loose! A veil too for your knavery?
_O Dio, Dio!_
_Ros._ What do you take me for, sir?
_Mir._ An hypocrite, a wanton, a dissembler,
Howe’er ye seem: and thus ye are to be handled!— 81
Mark me, Belleur;—and this you love, I know it.
[_Attempts to remove the veil._]
_Ros._ Stand off, bold sir!
_Mir._ You wear good clothes to this end,
Jewels; love feasts and masques.
_Ros._ Ye are monstrous saucy.
_Mir._ All this to draw on fools: and thus, thus, lady,
[_Attempts to remove the veil._]
You are to be lull’d.
_Bel._ Let her alone, I ’ll swinge ye else, 86
I will, i’ faith! for, though I cannot skill o’ this matter
Myself, I will not see another do it before me,
And do it worse.
_Ros._ Away! ye are a vain thing.
You have travell’d far, sir, to return again 90
A windy and poor bladder. You talk of women,
That are not worth the favour of a common one,
The grace of her grew in an hospital!
Against a thousand such blown fooleries
I am able to maintain good women’s honours,
Their freedoms, and their fames, and I will do it.— 96
_Mir._ She has almost struck me dumb too.
_Ros._ And declaim
Against your base malicious tongues, your noises,
For they are nothing else. You teach behaviours!
Or touch us for our freedoms! Teach yourselves manners, 100
Truth and sobriety, and live so clearly
That our lives may shine in ye; and then task[3559] us.
It seems ye are hot; the suburbs[3560] will supply ye:
Good women scorn such gamesters.[3561] So, I ’ll leave ye.
I am sorry to see this: faith, sir, live fairly. 105
_Exit_ [_with_ ORIANA].
_Mir._ This woman, if she hold on, may be virtuous;
’T is almost possible: we ’ll have a new day.
_Bel._ Ye brought me on, ye forc’d me to this foolery.
I am sham’d, I am scorn’d, I am flurted;[3562] yes, I am so:
Though I cannot talk to a woman like your worship, 110
And use my phrases and my learn’d figures,
Yet I can fight with any man.
_Mir._ Fie!
_Bel._ I can, sir;
And I will fight.
_Mir._ With whom?
_Bel._ With you; with any man;
For all men now will laugh at me.
_Mir._ Prithee, be moderate.
_Bel._ And I ’ll beat all men. Come.
_Mir._ I love thee dearly. 115
_Bel._ I [will] beat all that love; love has undone me.
Never tell me; I will not be a history.
_Mir._ Thou art not.
_Bel._ ’Sfoot, I will not! Give me room,
And let me see the proudest of ye jeer me;
And I ’ll begin with you first.
_Mir._ Prithee, Belleur— 120
If I do not satisfy thee——
_Bel._ Well, look ye do.
But, now I think on’t better, ’t is impossible;
I must beat somebody. I am maul’d myself.
And I ought in justice——
_Mir._ No, no, no; you are cozen’d:
But walk, and let me talk to thee.
_Bel._ Talk wisely, 125
And see that no man laugh, upon no occasion;
For I shall think then ’t is at me.
_Mir._ I warrant thee.
_Bel._ Nor no more talk of this.
_Mir._ Dost think I am maddish?
_Bel._ I must needs fight yet; for I find it concerns me:
A pox on ’t: I must fight.
_Mir._ I’ faith, thou shalt not. _Exeunt._ 130
ACT III
SCENE I.[3563]
_Enter_ DE GARD _and_ LUGIER.
_De Gard._ I know ye 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[3564] and motions.[3565]
There ’s nothing in their houses here but hummings; 6
A bee has more brains. I grieve and vex too
The insolent licentious carriage
Of this out-facing fellow Mirabel;
And I am mad to see him prick his plumes up.
_De Gard._ His wrongs you partly know.
_Lug._ Do not you stir, sir; 11
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 suffer
Such base lewd wrongs.
_De Gard._ I will be rul’d; he shall live, 15
And left to your revenge.
_Lug._ Ay, ay, I ’ll 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, 20
For I am zealous in the cause.
_De Gard._ I will, sir.
And will be still directed; for the truth is,
My 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 show’d my pupils 25
Sets me a-fire too. Go; I ’ll prepare your sister.
And as I told ye——
_De Gard._ Yes; all shall be fit, sir.
_Lug._ And seriously, and handsomely.
_De Gard._ I warrant ye.
_Lug._ A little counsel more. [_Whispers._]
_De Gard._ ’T is well.
_Lug._ Most stately:
See that observ’d; and then——
_De Gard._ I have ye every way. 30
_Lug._ Away, then, and be ready.
_De Gard._ With all speed, sir. _Exit._
_Enter_ LILLIA BIANCA, ROSALURA, _and_ ORIANA.
_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 gallantly
With your grave precepts.
_Ros._ We expected husbands 35
Out of your documents[3566] and taught behaviours,
Excellent husbands; thought men would run stark mad on us,
Men of all ages and all states; we expected
An inundation of desires and offers,
A torrent of trim suitors; all we did, 40
Or said, or purpos’d, to be spells about us,
Spells to provoke.
_Lil._ Ye have provok’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. 45
_Ros._ We made love, and contemn’d love; now seem’d holy,
With such a reverent put-on reservation
Which could not miss, according to your principles;
Now gave more hope again; now close,[3567] now public,
Still up and down we beat it like a billow; 50
And ever those behaviours you read to us,
Subtle 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 better
For all my learning, if I love a dunce, 55
A handsome dunce? To what use serves my reading?
You should have taught me what belongs to horses,
Dogs, dice, hawks, banquets, masques, 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. 60
I ’ll take mine own way now.
_Lil._ And I my fortune;
We may live maids else till the moon drop millstones.
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, 65
And ye shall see how I ’ll convert this heretic.
Mark how this Mirabel——
_Lil._ Name him no more;
For, though I long for a husband, I hate him,
And would be married sooner to a monkey,
Or to a Jack of Straw, than such a juggler. 70
_Ros._ I am of that mind too. He is too nimble,
And plays at fast and loose too learnedly,
For a plain-meaning woman; that ’s the truth on ’t.
Here ’s one too, that we love well, would be angry;
[_Pointing to_ ORIANA.]
And reason why.—No, no, we will not trouble ye, 75
Nor him at this time: may he make you happy!
We ’ll turn ourselves loose now to our fair fortunes;
And the downright 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 carried so cheap neither; we ’ll have some sport, 80
Some mad-morris or other for our money, tutor.
_Lug._ ’T is like enough: prosper your own devices!
Ye are old enough to choose. But, for this gentlewoman,
So please her give me leave——
_Ori._ I shall be glad, sir,
To find a friend whose pity may direct me. 85
_Lug._ I ’ll do my best, and faithfully deal for ye;
But then ye must be rul’d.
_Ori._ In all, I vow to ye,
_Ros._ Do, do: he has a lucky hand sometimes, I ’ll assure ye.
And hunts the recovery of a lost lover deadly.
_Lug._ You must away straight.
_Ori._ Yes.
_Lug._ And I ’ll instruct ye: 90
Here ye can know no more.
_Ori._ 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; 95
And so, we ’ll leave ye to your own disposes.
_Exeunt_ [LUGIER _and_ ORIANA].
_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.
_Lil._ So have I too a grudging[3568] of good-will that way, 100
And would as fain be despatched. But this Monsieur Quicksilver——
_Ros._ No, no; we ’ll bar him, bye and main.[3569] Let him trample;
There is no safety in his surquedry.[3570]
An army-royal of women are too few for him;
He keeps a journal of his gentleness, 105
And will go near to print his fair despatches,
And call it his “Triumph over time and women.”
Let him pass out of memory! What think you
Of his two companions?
_Lil._ Pinac, methinks, is reasonable;
A little modesty he has brought home with him, 110
And might be taught, in time, some handsome 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[3571] clear, he may be lookt at. 115
I would not marry a man that must be taught,
And conjur’d up with kisses; the best game
Is play’d still by the best gamesters.
_Ros._ Fie upon thee!
What talk hast thou!
_Lil._ Are not we alone, and merry?
Why should we be ashamed to speak what we think? Thy gentleman, 120
The 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 St. George!
_Ros._ Thou art a fool! Give me a man brings mettle, 125
Brings substance with him, needs no broths to lare[3572] 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. 129
_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;
_Enter_ MIRABEL.
And, methinks, I could form him.
_Lil._ Peace; the fire-drake. 135
_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 travail; may they be delivered 140
Of 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. 145
_Ros._ And often glory in their ruins.
_Mir._ Yes, forsooth;
I have a speedy trick, please you to try it;
My engine will despatch you instantly.
_Ros._ I would I were a woman, sir, fit for you!
As there be such, no doubt, may engine you too; 150
May, with a counter-mine, blow up your valour:
But, in good faith, sir, we are both too honest;
And, the plague is, we cannot be persuaded;
For, look you, if we thought it were a glory
To be the last of all your lovely ladies—— 155
_Mir._ Come, come, leave prating: this has spoil’d your market!
This pride and puft-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 behaviours
Have made men stand amaz’d; those men that lov’d ye, 160
Men of fair states[3573] and parts. Your strange conversions[3574]
Into 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. 165
A travell’d monsieur was the strangest creature,
The wildest monster to be wond’red at;
His person made a public scoff, his knowledge
(As if he had been bred ’mongst bears or bandogs)[3575]
Shunn’d and avoided; his conversation snuff’d at;[3576]— 170
What harvest brings all this?
_Ros._ I pray you, proceed, sir.
_Mir._ Now ye shall see in what esteem a traveller,
An understanding gentleman, and a monsieur,
Is to be held; and, to your griefs, confess it,
Both to your griefs and galls.
_Lil._ In what, I pray ye, sir? 175
We would be glad to understand your excellence.
_Mir._ Go 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, 179
Note the poor traveller that came to visit you,
That flat unfurnish’d fellow; note him throughly;
You may chance to see him anon.
_Lil._ ’T is very likely.
_Mir._ And see him courted by a travell’d lady,
Held dear and honour’d by a virtuous virgin;
May be, a beauty not far short of yours neither;
It may be, clearer.
_Lil._ Not unlikely.
_Mir._ Younger: 186
As killing eyes as yours, a wit as poignant;
May be, a state, too, that may top[3577] your fortune.
Inquire how she thinks of him, how she holds him; 189
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.
Inquire 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, 195
Travell’d, and highly followed for her fashions.
_Lil._ Bless his good fortune, sir!
_Mir._ This scurvy fellow,
I think they call his name Pinac, this serving-man
That brought ye venison, as I take it, madam,
Note but this scab: ’t is strange that this coarse creature, 200
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 handsome; yet I see no such perfection.
_Mir._ Would I had his fortune! For ’t is a woman 205
Of that sweet-temper’d nature, and that judgment,
Besides her state, that care, clear understanding,
And such a wife to bless him——
_Ros._ Pray you, whence is she?
_Mir._ Of England, and a most accomplish’d lady; 209
So modest that men’s eyes are frighted at her,
And such a noble carriage—
_Enter a_ Boy.
How now, sirrah?
_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: Monsieur Pinac
The only man that leads her.
_Enter_ PINAC, MARIANA, _and_ Attendants.
_Mir._ He is much honoured; 215
Would I had such a favour! [_Exit_ Boy.]
Now vex, ladies.
Envy, and vex, and rail!
_Ros._ You are short of us, sir.
_Mir._ Bless your fair fortune, sir!
_Pin._ I nobly thank ye.
_Mir._ Is she married, friend?
_Pin._ No, no.
_Mir._ A goodly lady;
A sweet and delicate aspect!—Mark, mark, and wonder!— 220
Hast thou any hope of her?
_Pin._ A little.
_Mir._ Follow close, then;
Lose not that hope.
_Pin._ To you, sir.
[MARIANA _courtesies to_ MIRABEL.]
_Mir._ Gentle lady!
_Ros._ She is fair, indeed.
_Lil._ I have seen a fairer; yet
She is well.
_Ros._ Her clothes sit handsome too.
_Lil._ She dresses prettily.
_Ros._ And, by my faith, she is rich; she looks still sweeter. 225
A well-bred woman, I warrant her.
_Lil._ Do you hear, sir?
May I crave this gentlewoman’s name?
_Pin._ Mariana, lady.
_Lil._ I will not say I owe ye a quarrel, monsieur,
For making me your stale:[3578] a noble gentleman
Would have had more courtesy, at least more faith, 230
Than to turn off his mistress at first trial.
You know not what respect I might have show’d ye;
I find ye have worth.
_Pin._ I cannot stay to answer ye;
Ye see my charge. I am beholding to ye
For all your merry tricks ye put upon me, 235
Your bobs,[3579] and base accounts. I came to love ye,
To woo ye, and to serve ye; I am much indebted to ye
For 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, 240
When you both knew I was a gentleman,
And one deserv’d as rich a match as you are.
_Lil._ Be not so bitter, sir.
_Pin._ You see this lady:
She is young enough and fair enough to please me;
A woman of a loving mind, a quiet, 245
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.
_Pin._ I dare not trouble ye.
_Lil._ May I speak to your lady?
_Pin._ I pray ye, content yourself. I know ye are bitter, 250
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._ [_Aside._] I could eat her. 255
_Pin._ Rest as ye are, a modest noble gentlewoman,
And afford your honest neighbours some of your prayers.
_Exeunt_ [PINAC, MARIANA, _and_ Attendants].
_Mir._ What think you now?
_Lil._ Faith, she’s a pretty whiting;[3580]
She has got a pretty catch too.
_Mir._ You are angry,
Monstrous angry now, grievously angry; 260
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 itself, and eat no meat, lady;
And it will sigh.[3581]
_Lil._ Indeed, you are mistaken;
It will be very merry.
_Ros._ Why, sir, do you think 265
There are no more men living, nor no handsomer,
Than he or you? By this light, there be ten thousand,
Ten thousand thousand! Comfort yourself, dear monsieur;
Faces, and bodies, wits, and all abiliments[3582]—
There are so many we regard ’em not. 270
_Enter_ BELLEUR _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! 275
_Bel._ I ’ll make you know me. Set your faces soberly;
Stand this way, and look sad; I ’ll be no May-game;
Sadder, demurer yet.
_Ros._ What is the matter?
What ails this gentleman?
_Bel._ Go off now backward, that I may behold ye; 280
And not a simper, on your lives!
[_Exeunt_ Gentlemen, _walking backwards_.]
_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 mind.
_Mir._ You do not.
You are strangely humorous. Is there no mirth nor pleasure
But you must be the object? 285
_Bel._ Mark, and observe me. Wherever 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; 290
Do any thing to keep ye quiet.
_Bel._ Hear me.
Till I receive a satisfaction
Equal to the disgrace and scorn ye gave me,
Ye are a wretched woman; till thou woo’st me,
And I scorn thee as much, as seriously 295
Jeer and abuse thee; ask what gill[3583] thou art,
Or any baser name; I will proclaim thee,
I will so sing thy virtue, so be-paint thee——
_Ros._ Nay, good sir, be more modest.
_Bel._ Do you laugh again?—
Because ye are a woman, ye are lawless, 300
And out of compass of an honest anger.
_Ros._ Good sir, have a better belief of me.
_Lil._ Away, dear sister!
_Exit [with_ ROSALURA].
_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 humour, 305
And thou shalt see how prosperously ’t will guide thee.
_Bel._ I am glad I have found a way to woo yet; I was afraid once
I never should have made a civil suitor.
Well, I ’ll about it still. _Exit._
_Mir._ Do, do, and prosper.
What sport do I make with these fools! What pleasure 310
Feeds me, and fats my sides at their poor innocence!
_Enter_ LUGIER, [_disguised_.]
Wooing and wiving—hang it! Give me mirth,
Witty and dainty mirth! I shall grow in love, sure,
With mine own happy head.
Who’s this?—To me, sir?—
[_Aside._] What youth is this?
_Lug._ Yes sir, I would speak with you, 315
If your name be Monsieur Mirabel.
_Mir._ You have hit it:
Your business, I beseech you?
_Lug._ This it is, sir;
There is a gentlewoman hath long time affected you,
And lov’d you dearly.
_Mir._ Turn over, and end that story;
’T is long enough: I have no faith in women, sir. 320
_Lug._ 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, 325
Wresting her honour to your wild disposes,
Than noble in requiting her affection:
Which, as you 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. 330
_Mir._ Why, I beseech you, sir?
_Lug._ Good sir, I ’ll tell ye.
And I ’ll be short; I ’ll tell ye because I love ye,
Because I would have you shun the shame may follow.
There is a nobleman, new come to town, sir,
A noble and a great man, that affects her, 335
(A countryman of mine, a brave Savoyan,
Nephew to th’ duke) and so much honours her,
That ’t will be dangerous to pursue your old way,
To touch at any thing concerns her honour,
Believe, most dangerous. Her name is Oriana,
And this great man will marry her. Take heed, sir; 341
For howsoe’er her brother, a staid gentleman,
Lets things pass upon better hopes, this lord, sir,
Is of that fiery and that poignant metal,
(Especially provok’d on by affection) 345
That ’t will be hard—but you are wise.
_Mir._ A lord, sir?
_Lug._ Yes, and a noble lord.
_Mir._ Send her good fortune!
This will not stir her lord. A baroness!
Say ye so? Say ye so? By ’r lady, a brave title!
Top and top-gallant now? Save her great ladyship! 350
I was a poor servant of hers, I must confess, sir,
And in those days I thought I might be jovy,[3584]
And make a little bold to call in to her;
But, _basta_;[3585] 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, 356
Can hold a hanging up with approbation,
Plant his hat formally, and wait with patience,
I do beseech you, sir——
_Lug._ Sir, leave your scoffing,
And, as ye are a gentleman, deal fairly. 360
I have given ye a friend’s counsel; so, I ’ll leave ye.
_Mir._ But, hark ye, hark ye, sir; is ’t possible
I may believe what you say?
_Lug._ You may choose, sir.
_Mir._ No baits, no fish-hooks, sir? No gins? no nooses?
No pitfals to catch puppies?
_Lug._ I tell ye certain: 365
You may believe; if not, stand to the danger! _Exit._
_Mir._ A lord of Savoy, says be? The duke’s nephew?
A man so mighty? By lady, a fair marriage!
By my faith, a handsome fortune! I must leave prating:
For, to confess the truth, I have abus’d her, 370
For which I should be sorry, but that will seem scurvy.
I must confess she was, ever since I knew her,
As 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? 376
_Re-enter_ DE GARD _with_ ORIANA, [_both of them disguised, and in rich
dresses;_] _and_ Attendants.
[_Aside._] ’T is she, I am sure; and that the lord, it should seem.
He carries a fair port, is a handsome man too.
I do begin to feel I am a coxcomb.[3586]
_Ori._ Good my lord, choose a nobler; for I know 380
I am so far below your rank and honour,
That what ye can say this way I must credit
But spoken to beget yourself sport. Alas, sir,
I am so far off from deserving you,
My beauty so unfit for your affection, 385
That I am grown the scorn of common railers,
Of such injurious things that, when they cannot
Reach at my person, lie with my reputation!
I am poor, besides.
_De Gard._ Ye are all wealth and goodness;
And none but such as are the scum of men, 390
The ulcers of an honest state, spite-weavers,
That live on poison only, like swoln spiders,
Dare once profane such excellence, such sweetness.
_Mir._ This man speaks loud indeed.
_De Gard._ Name but the men, lady:
Let me but know these poor and base depravers,
Lay but to my revenge their persons open, 396
And you shall see how suddenly, how fully,
For your most beauteous sake, how direfully,
I ’ll handle their despites. Is this thing one?
Be what he will——
_Mir._ Sir? 400
_De Gard._ Dare your malicious tongue, sir——
_Mir._ I know you not, nor what ye mean.
_Ori._ Good my lord——
_De Gard._ 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 Gard._ Your mercy!— 405
But, had he been a tainter of your honour,
A blaster of those beauties reign 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, 410
I ’ll take ye with those faults the world flings on ye,
And dearer than the whole world I ’ll esteem ye!
_Exit_ [_with_ ORIANA _and_ Attendants].
_Mir._ This is a thund’ring lord: I am glad I scap’d him.
How lovingly the wench disclaim’d my villany!
I am vex’d now heartily that he shall have her: 415
Not that I care to marry, or to lose her,
But that this bilbo-lord[3587] shall reap that maidenhead
That was my due; that he shall rig and top her:
I ’d give a thousand crowns now, he might miss her.
_Enter a_ Servant.
_Serv._ Nay, if I bear your blows, and keep your counsel, 420
You have good luck, sir: I teach ye to strike lighter.
_Mir._ Come hither, honest fellow: canst thou tell me
Where this great lord lies, this Savoy lord? Thou mett’st him;
He now went by thee, certain.
_Serv._ Yes, he did, sir;
I know him, and I know you are fool’d.
_Mir._ Come hither: 425
Here ’s all this, give me truth. [_Gives money._]
_Serv._ Not for your money,
(And yet that may do much) but I have been beaten,
And by the worshipful contrivers beaten, and I ’ll tell ye:
This is no lord, no Savoy lord.
_Mir._ Go forward.
_Serv._ This is a trick, and put upon you grossly 430
By one Lugier. The lord is Monsieur De 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.
_Serv._ I have discharg’d my colours,[3588] so God b’y ye, sir! _Exit._
_Mir._ What a purblind puppy was I. Now I remember him; 436
All the whole cast on ’s face, though it were umber’d,[3589]
And mask’d with patches. What a dunderwhelp,[3590]
To let him domineer thus! How he strutted,
And what a load of lord he clapt upon him! 440
Would I had him here again! I would so bounce him,
I would so thank his lordship for his lewd[3591] plot!
Do they think to carry it away, with a great band made
of bird-pots,[3592]
And a pair of pin-buttock’d breeches?—Ha! ’t is he again;
He comes, he comes, he comes! have at him! 445
_Re-enter_ DE GARD, ORIANA, [_both disguised as before and_
Attendants.]
[MIRABEL _sings_.]
My Savoy lord, why dost thou frown on me?
And will that favour never sweeter be?
Wilt thou, I say, for ever play the fool?
De Gard, be wise, and, Savoy, go to school!
My lord De Gard, I thank you for your antic, 450
My lady bright, that will be sometimes frantic;
You worthy train, that wait upon this pair,
Send you more wit, and them[3593] a bouncing bair?[3594]
And so I take my humble leave of your honours! _Exit._
_De Gard._ We are discover’d; there ’s no remedy. 455
Lillia Bianca’s man, upon my life,
In stubbornness, because Lugier corrected him—
A shameless slave! 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 Gard._ We must be patient; I am vex’d to the proof too. 461
I ’ll try once more: then, if I fail, here ’s one speaks.
[_Puts his hand on his sword._]
_Ori._ Let me be lost and scorn’d first!
_De Gard._ Well, we ’ll consider.
Away, and let me shift; I shall be hooted else. _Exeunt._
ACT IV
SCENE I.[3595]
_Enter_ LUGIER, LILLIA BIANCA, _and_ Servant [_carrying a willow
garland_].
_Lug._ Faint not, but do as I direct ye: trust me;
Believe me too; for what I have told ye, lady,
As true as you are Lillia, is authentic;
I know it, I have found it: ’t is a poor courage
Flies off for one repulse. These travellers 5
Shall find, before we have done, a home-spun wit,
A plain French understanding, may cope with ’em.
They have had the better yet, thank your sweet squire here!
And let ’em brag. You would be reveng’d?
_Lil._ Yes, surely.
_Lug._ And married too?
_Lil._ I think so.
_Lug._ Then be counsell’d; 10
You know how to proceed. I have other irons
Heating as well as yours, and I will strike
Three blows with one stone home. Be rul’d, and happy;
And so, I leave ye. Now is the time.
_Lil._ I am ready,
If he do come to dor[3596] me. [_Exit_ LUGIER.]
_Serv._ Will ye stand here, 15
And let the people think ye are God knows what, mistress?
Let boys and prentices presume upon ye?
_Lil._ Prithee, hold thy peace.
_Serv._ Stand at his door that hates ye?
_Lil._ Prithee, leave prating.
_Serv._ Pray ye, go to the tavern: I ’ll give ye a pint of wine there.
If any of the mad-cap gentlemen should come by, 20
That take up women upon special warrant,
You were in a wise case now.
_Enter_ MIRABEL, PINAC, MARIANA, Priest, _and_ Attendants.
_Lil._ Give me the garland;
And wait you here. [_Takes the garland from_ Servant, _who retires_.]
_Mir._ She is here to seek thee, sirrah.
I told thee what would follow; she is mad for thee.
Show, and advance.—So early stirring, lady? 25
It shows a busy mind, a fancy troubled.
A willow garland too? Is ’t possible?
’T is pity so much beauty should lie musty;
But ’t is not to be help’d now.
_Lil._ The more ’s my misery.—
Good fortune to ye, lady! you deserve it: 30
To me, too-late repentance! I have sought it.
I do not envy, though I grieve a little,
You are mistress of that happiness, those joys,
That might have been, had I been wise—but fortune—
_Pin._ She understands ye not; pray ye, do not trouble her: 35
And do not cross me like a hare thus; ’t is as ominous.
_Lil._ I come not to upbraid your levity
(Though ye made show of love, and though I lik’d ye),
To claim an interest (we are yet both strangers;
But what we might have been, had you persever’d, sir!) 40
To be an eye-sore to your loving lady:
This garland shows I give myself forsaken
(Yet, she must pardon me, ’t is most unwillingly);
And all the power and interest I had in ye
(As, I persuade myself, somewhat ye lov’d me) 45
Thus patiently I render up, I offer
To her that must enjoy ye, and so bless ye;
Only, I heartily desire this courtesy,
And would not be deni’d, to wait upon ye
This day, to see ye tied, then no more trouble ye. 50
_Pin._ It needs not, lady.
_Lil._ Good sir, grant me so much.
_Pin._ ’T is private, and we make no invitation.
_Lil._ My presence, sir, shall not proclaim it public.
_Pin._ May be, ’t is not in town.
_Lil._ I have a coach, sir,
And a most ready will to do you service. 55
_Mir._ [_Aside to_ PINAC.] Strike now or never; make it sure:
I tell thee,
She will hang herself, if she have thee not.
_Pin._ Pray ye, sir,
Entertain my noble mistress: only a word or two
With this importunate woman, and I’ll relieve ye.— 60
Now ye see what your flings are, and your fancies,
Your states, and your wild stubbornness; now ye find
What ’t is to gird[3597] and kick at men’s fair services,
To raise your pride to such a pitch and glory
That goodness shows like gnats, scorn’d under ye. 65
’T is ugly, naught; a self-will in a woman,
Chain’d to an overweening thought, is pestilent,
Murders fair fortune first, then fair opinion.[3598]
There stands a pattern, a true patient pattern,
Humble and sweet.
_Lil._ I can but grieve my ignorance. 70
Repentance, some say too, is the best sacrifice;
For, sure, sir, if my chance had been so happy
(As I confess I was mine own destroyer)
As to have arriv’d at you, I will not prophesy,
But certain, as I think, I should have pleas’d ye; 75
Have made ye as much wonder at my courtesy,
My love, and duty, as I have dishearten’d ye.
Some hours we have of youth, and some of folly;
And being free-born maids, we take a liberty,
And, to maintain that, sometimes we strain highly. 80
_Pin._ Now you talk reason.
_Lil._ But, being yok’d and govern’d,
Married, and those light vanities purg’d from us,
How fair we grow, how gentle, and how tender!
We twine about those loves that shoot up with us!
A sullen woman fear, that talks not to ye; 85
She has a sad and darken’d soul, loves dully.
A merry and a free wench, give her liberty,
Believe her, in the lightest form she appears to ye,
Believe her excellent, though she despise ye;
Let but these fits and flashes pass, she will show to ye 90
As jewels rubb’d from dust, or gold new burnish’d:
Such had I been, had you believ’d.
_Pin._ Is ’t possible?
_Lil._ And to your happiness, I dare assure ye,
If true love be accounted so: your pleasure,
Your will, and your command, had tied my motions: 95
But that hope’s gone. I know you are young and giddy,
And, till you have a wife can govern with ye,
You sail upon this world’s sea light and empty,
Your bark in danger daily. ’T is not the name neither
Of wife can steer you, but the noble nature, 100
The diligence, the care, the love, the patience:
She makes the pilot, and preserves the husband,
That knows and reckons every rib he is built on.
But this I tell ye, to my shame.
_Pin._ I admire ye;
And now am sorry that I aim beyond ye. 105
_Mir._ [_Aside._] So, so, so: fair and softly! She is thine own, boy;
She comes now without lure.
_Pin._ But that it must needs
Be reckon’d to me as a wantonness,
Or worse, a madness, to forsake a blessing,
A blessing of that hope——
_Lil._ I dare not urge ye; 110
And yet, dear sir——
_Pin._ ’Tis most certain, I had rather,
If ’t were in mine own choice—for you are my country-woman,
A neighbour here, born by me: she a stranger,
And who knows how her friends——
_Lil._ Do as you please, sir;
If ye be fast, not all the world—I love ye. 115
It is most true, and clear I would persuade ye;
And I shall love ye still.
_Pin._ Go, get before me—
So much ye have won upon me—do it presently.
Here’s a priest ready—I’ll have you.
_Lil._ Not now, sir; 119
No, you shall pardon me. Advance your lady;
I dare not hinder your most high preferment.
’T is honour enough for me I have unmask’d you.
_Pin._ How ’s that?
_Lil._ I have caught ye, sir. Alas, I am no stateswoman,
Nor no great traveller, yet I have found ye; 125
I have found your lady too, your beauteous lady;
I have found her birth and breeding too, her discipline,
Who brought her over, and who kept your lady,
And, when he laid her by, what virtuous nunnery
Receiv’d her in: I have found all these. Are ye blank now? 130
Methinks, such travell’d wisdoms should not fool thus,—
Such excellent indiscretions!
_Mir._ How could she know this?
_Lil._ ’T is true she ’s English-born; but most part French now,
And so I hope you ’ll find her to your comfort.
Alas, I am ignorant of what she cost ye! 135
The price of these hired clothes I do not know, gentlemen!
Those jewels are the broker’s, how ye stand bound for ’em!
_Pin._ Will you make this good?
_Lil._ Yes, yes; and to her face, sir,
That she is an English whore, a kind of fling-dust, 139
One of your London light-o’-loves, a right one;
Came over in thin pumps and half a petticoat,
One faith, and one smock, with a broken haberdasher—
I know all this without a conjurer.
Her name is Jumping Joan, an ancient sin-weaver;
She was first a lady’s chambermaid, there slipp’d, 145
And broke her leg above the knee; departed,
And set up shop herself; stood the fierce conflicts
Of many a furious term;[3599] there lost her colours,
And last shipp’d over hither.
_Mir._ We are betray’d!
_Lil._ Do you come to fright me with this mystery? 150
To stir me with a stink none can endure, sir?
I pray ye, proceed; the wedding will become ye:
Who gives the lady? You? An excellent father!
A careful man, and one that knows a beauty!
Send ye fair shipping, sir! and so, I ’ll leave ye. 155
Be wise and manly; then I may chance to love ye!
_Exit_ [_with_ Servant].
_Mir._ As I live, I am asham’d this wench has reach’d me,
Monstrous asham’d; but there’s no remedy.
This skew’d-ey’d carrion——
_Pin._ This I suspected ever.—
Come, come, uncase; we have no more use of ye; 160
Your clothes must back again.
_Mari._ Sir, you shall pardon me;
’T is not our English use to be degraded.
If you will visit me, and take your venture,
You shall have pleasure for your properties.
And so, sweetheart—— [_Exit._] 165
_Mir._ Let her go, and the devil go with her!
We have never better luck with these preludiums.
Come, be not daunted; think she is but a woman,
And, let her have the devil’s wit, we ’ll reach her! _Exeunt._
SCENE II.[3600]
_Enter_ ROSALURA _and_ LUGIER.
_Ros._ You have now redeem’d my good opinion, tutor,
And ye stand fair again.
_Lug._ I can but labour,
And sweat in your affairs. I am sure Belleur
Will be here instantly, and use his anger,
His wonted harshness.
_Ros._ I hope he will not best me. 5
_Lug._ No, sure, he has more manners. Be you ready.
_Ros._ Yes, yes, I am; and am resolv’d to fit him,
With patience to outdo all he can offer.
But how does Oriana?
_Lug._ Worse and worse still;
There is a sad house for her; she is now, 10
Poor lady, utterly distracted.
_Ros._ Pity,
Infinite pity! ’t is a handsome lady:
That Mirabel’s a beast, worse than a monster,
If this affliction work not.
_Enter_ LILLIA BIANCA.
_Lil._ Are you ready?
Belleur is coming on here, hard behind me: 15
I have no leisure to relate my fortune;
Only I wish you may come off as handsomely.
Upon the sign, you know what.
_Ros._ Well, well; leave me.
_Exeunt_ [LILLIA BIANCA _and_ LUGIER].
_Enter_ BELLEUR.
_Bel._ How now?
_Ros._ Ye are welcome, sir.
_Bel._ ’T is well ye have manners.
That court’sy again, and hold your countenance staidly. 20
That look ’s too light; take heed: so; sit ye down now;
And, to confirm me that your gall is gone,
Your bitterness dispers’d (for so I ’ll have it),
Look on me stedfastly, and, whatsoe’er I say to ye,
Move not, nor alter in your face; ye are gone, then; 25
For, if you do express the least distaste,
Or show an angry wrinkle, (mark me, woman!
We are now alone,) I will so conjure thee,
The third part of my execution
Cannot be spoke.
_Ros._ I am at your dispose, sir. 30
_Bel._ Now rise, and woo me a little; let me hear that faculty:
But touch me not; nor do not lie, I charge ye.
Begin now.
_Ros._ If so mean and poor a beauty
May ever hope the grace——
_Bel._ Ye cog,[3601] ye flatter;
Like a lewd[3602] thing, ye lie: “May hope that grace!” 35
Why, what grace canst thou hope for? Answer not;
For, if thou dost, and liest again, I ’ll swinge thee.
Do not I know thee for a pestilent woman?
A proud at both ends? Be not angry,
Nor stir not, o’ your life.
_Ros._ I am counsell’d, sir. 40
_Bel._ Art thou not now (confess, for I ’ll have the truth out)
As much unworthy of a man of merit,
Or any of ye all, nay, of mere man,
Though he were crooked, cold, all wants upon him,
Nay, of any dishonest thing that bears that figure, 45
As devils are of mercy?
_Ros._ We are unworthy.
_Bel._ Stick to that truth, and it may chance to save thee.
And is it not our bounty that we take ye?
That we are troubled, vex’d, or tortur’d with ye,
Our mere and special bounty?
_Ros._ Yes.
_Bel._ Our pity, 50
That for your wickedness we swinge ye soundly;
Your stubbornness and stout hearts, we belabour ye?
Answer to that!
_Ros._ I do confess your pity.
_Bel._ And dost not thou deserve in thine own person,
Thou impudent, thou pert—Do not change countenance. 55
_Ros._ I dare not, sir.
_Bel._ For, if you do——
_Ros._ I am settled.
_Bel._ Thou wagtail, peacock, puppy, look on me:
I am a gentleman.
_Ros._ It seems no less, sir,
_Bel._ And dar’st thou in thy surquedry[3603]——
_Ros._ I beseech you!—
It was my weakness, sir, I did not view ye, 60
I took not notice of your noble parts,
Nor call’d your person nor your fashion proper.[3604]
_Bel._ This is some amends yet.
_Ros._ I shall mend, sir, daily.
And study to deserve.
_Bel._ Come a little nearer:
Canst thou repent thy villany?
_Ros._ Most seriously. 65
_Bel._ And be asham’d?
_Ros._ I am asham’d.
_Bel._ Cry.
_Ros._ It will be hard to do, sir.
_Bel._ Cry now instantly;
Cry monstrously, that all the town may hear thee;
Cry seriously, as if thou hadst lost thy monkey;
And, as I like thy tears——
_Enter_ LILLIA BIANCA, _and four_ Women, _laughing_.
_Ros._ Now! [_To those within._]
_Bel._ How! how! Do ye jeer me? 70
Have ye broke your bounds again, dame?
_Ros._ Yes, and laugh at ye,
And laugh most heartily.
_Bel._ What are these? whirlwinds?
Is hell broke loose, and all the Furies flutter’d?
Am I greased[3605] once again?
_Ros._ Yes, indeed are ye;
And once again ye shall be, if ye quarrel: 75
Do you come to vent your fury on a virgin?
Is this your manhood, sir?
_1 Wom._ Let him do his best;
Let’s see the utmost of his indignation;
I long to see him angry.—Come, proceed, sir.—
[_The women display knives._]
Hang him, he dares not stir; a man of timber!
_2 Wom._ Come hither to fright maids with thy bull-faces! 81
To threaten gentlewomen! Thou a man! A Maypole,
A great dry pudding.
[3] _Wom._ Come, come, do your worst, sir;
Be angry, if thou dar’st.
_Bel._ The Lord deliver me!
_4 Wom._ Do but look scurvily upon this lady, 85
Or give us one foul word!—We are all mistaken;
This is some mighty dairy-maid in man’s clothes.
_Lil._ I am of that mind too.
_Bel._ [_Aside._] What will they do to me?
_Lil._ And hired to come and abuse us.—A man has manners;
A gentleman, civility and breeding:— 90
Some tinker’s trull, with a beard glu’d on.
_1 Wom._ Let’s search him,
And, as we find him——
_Bel._ Let me but depart from ye,
Sweet Christian women!
_Lil._ Hear the thing speak, neighbours.
_Bel._ ’T is but a small request: if e’er I trouble ye,
If e’er I talk again of beating women, 95
Or beating any thing that can but turn to me;
Of ever thinking of a handsome lady
But virtuously and well; of ever speaking
But to her honour,—this I ’ll promise ye,
I will take rhubarb, and purge choler[3606] mainly,[3607]
Abundantly I ’ll purge.
_Lil._ I ’ll send ye broths, sir. 101
_Bel._ I will be laugh’d at, and endure it patiently;
I will do any thing.
_Ros._ I ’ll be your bail, then.
When ye come next to woo, pray ye come not boisterously,
And furnish’d like a bear-ward.[3608]
_Bel._ No, in truth, forsooth. 105
_Ros._ I scented ye long since.
_Bel._ I was to blame, sure:
I will appear a gentleman.
_Ros._ ’T is the best for ye,
For a true noble gentleman ’s a brave thing.
Upon that hope, we quit ye. You fear seriously?
_Bel._ Yes, truly do I; I confess I fear ye, 110
And honour ye, and any thing.
_Ros._ Farewell, then.
_Wom._ And, when ye come to woo next, bring more mercy.
_Exeunt_ [_all except_ BELLEUR].
_Enter two_ Gentlemen.
_Bel._ A dairy-maid! A tinker’s trull! Heaven bless me!
Sure, if I had provok’d ’em, they had quartered me.
I am a most ridiculous ass, now I perceive it;
A coward, and a knave too.
_1 Gent._ ’T is the mad gentleman; 116
Let ’s set our faces right.
_Bel._ No, no; laugh at me,
And laugh aloud.
_2 Gent._ We are better manner’d, sir.
_Bel._ I do deserve it; call me patch[3609] and puppy,
And beat me, if you please.
_1 Gent._ No, indeed; we know ye. 120
_Bel._ ’Death, do as I would have ye!
_2 Gent._ Ye are an ass, then,
A coxcomb, and a calf!
_Bel._ I am a great calf.
Kick me a little now. Why, when! [_They kick him._] Sufficient.
Now laugh aloud, and scorn me. So good b’ ye!
And ever, when ye meet me, laugh.
_Gentlemen._ We will, sir. 125
_Exeunt_ [_on one side_, _the two_ Gentlemen; _on the other_, BELLEUR].
SCENE III.[3610]
_Enter_ NANTOLET, LA CASTRE, DE GARD, LUGIER, _and_ MIRABEL.
_Mir._ Your patience, gentlemen; why do ye bait me?
_Nant._ Is ’t not a shame you are so stubborn-hearted,
So stony and so dull, to such a lady,
Of her perfections and her misery?
_Lug._ Does she not love ye? Does not her distraction 5
For your sake only, her most pitied lunacy
Of all but you, show ye? Does it not compel ye?
_Mir._ Soft and fair, gentlemen; pray ye, proceed temperately.
_Lug._ If ye have any feeling, any sense in ye,
The least touch of a noble heart—— 10
_La Cast._ Let him alone:
It is his glory that he can kill beauty.—
Ye bear my stamp, but not my tenderness;
Your wild unsavoury courses let[3611] that in ye!
For shame, be sorry, though ye cannot cure her; 15
Show something of a man, of a fair nature.
_Mir._ Ye make me mad!
_De Gard._ Let me pronounce this to ye:
You take a strange felicity in slighting
And wronging women, which my poor sister feels now; 20
Heaven’s hand be gentle on her! Mark me, sir;
That very hour she dies (there’s small hope otherwise),
That minute, you and I must grapple for it;
Either your life or mine.
_Mir._ Be not so hot, sir;
I am not to be wrought on by these policies, 25
In truth, I am not; nor do I fear the tricks,
Or the high-sounding threats, of a Savoyan.
I glory not in cruelty, (ye wrong me,)
Nor grow up water’d with the tears of women.
This let me tell ye, howsoe’er I show to ye, 30
Wild, as you please to call it, or self-will’d,
When I see cause, I can both do and suffer,
Freely and feelingly, as a true gentleman.
_Enter_ ROSALURA _and_ LILLIA BIANCA.
_Ros._ Oh, pity, pity! thousand, thousand pities!
_Lil._ Alas, poor soul, she will die! She is grown senseless; 35
She will not know nor speak now.
_Ros._ Die for love!
And love of such a youth! I would die for a dog first:
He that kills me, I ’ll give him leave to eat me;
I ’ll know men better, ere I sigh for any of ’em.
_Lil._ You have done a worthy act, sir, a most famous; 40
Ye have kill’d a maid the wrong way; ye are a conqueror.
_Ros._ A conqueror? A cobbler! Hang him, sowter![3612]—
Go hide thyself, for shame! Go lose thy memory!
Live not ’mongst men; thou art a beast, a monster,
A blatant beast!
_Lil._ If ye have yet any honesty, 45
Or ever heard of any, take my counsel:
Off with your garters, and seek out a bough,—
A handsome bough, for I would have ye hang like a gentleman;
And write some doleful matter to the world,
A warning to hard-hearted men.
_Mir._ Out, kitlings! 50
What caterwauling ’s here! What gibbing![3613]
Do you think my heart is soft’ned with a black santis?[3614]
Show me some reason.
_Enter_ ORIANA _on a bed_.
_Ros._ Here then, here is a reason.
_Nant._ Now, if ye be a man, let this sight shake ye!
_La Cast._ Alas, poor gentlewoman!—Do ye know me, lady? 55
_Lug._ How she looks up, and stares!
_Ori._ I know ye very well;
You are my godfather: and that’s the monsieur.
_De Gard._ And who am I?
_Ori._ You are Amadis de Gaul, sir.—
Oh, oh, my heart!—Were you never in love, sweet lady?
And do you never dream of flowers and gardens? 60
I dream of walking fires: take heed; it comes now.
Who’s that? Pray, stand away. I have seen that face, sure.—
How light my head is!
_Ros._ Take some rest.
_Ori._ I cannot;
For I must be up to-morrow to go to church,
And I must dress me, put my new gown on,
And be as fine to meet my love! Heigh-ho! 66
Will you not tell me where my love lies buried?
_Mir._ He is not dead.—[_Aside._] Beshrew my heart, she stirs me!
_Ori._ He is dead to me.
_Mir._ [_Aside._] Is ’t possible my nature
Should be so damnable to let her suffer?— 70
Give me your hand.
_Ori._ How soft ye feel, how gentle!
I ’ll tell you your fortune, friend.
_Mir._ How she stares on me!
_Ori._ You have a flattering face, but ’t is a fine one;
I warrant you may have a hundred sweethearts.
Will ye pray for me? I shall die to-morrow; 75
And will ye ring the bells?
_Mir._ I am most unworthy,
I do confess, unhappy. Do you know me?
_Ori._ I would I did!
_Mir._ Oh, fair tears, how ye take[3615] me!
_Ori._ Do you weep too? You have not lost your lover?
You mock me: I ’ll go home and pray.
_Mir._ Pray ye, pardon me; 80
Or, if it please ye to consider justly,
Scorn me, for I deserve it; scorn and shame me,
Sweet Oriana!
_Lil._ Let her alone; she trembles:
Her fits will grow more strong, if ye provoke her.
_La Cast._ Certain she knows ye not, yet loves to see ye. 85
How she smiles now!
_Enter_ BELLEUR.
_Bel._ Where are ye? Oh, why do not ye laugh? Come, laugh at me:
Why a devil art thou sad, and such a subject,
Such a ridiculous subject, as I am,
Before thy face?
_Mir._ Prithee, put off this lightness; 90
This is no time for mirth, nor place; I have us’d too much on ’t.
I have undone myself and a sweet lady
By being too indulgent to my foolery,
Which truly I repent. Look here.
_Bel._ What ails she?
_Mir._ Alas, she ’s mad!
_Bel._ Mad!
_Mir._ Yes, too sure; for me too. 95
_Bel._ Dost thou wonder at that? By this good light, they are all so;
They are coz’ning-mad, they are brawling-mad, they are proud-mad;
They are all, all mad. I came from a world of mad women,
Mad as March hares. Get ’em in chains, then deal with ’em.
There’s one that’s mad; she seems well, but she is dog-mad. 100
Is she dead, dost think?
_Mir._ Dead! Heaven forbid!
_Bel._ Heaven further it!
For, till they be key-cold dead, there’s no trusting of ’em:
Whate’er they seem, or howsoe’er they carry it,
Till they be chap-fallen, and their tongues at peace,
Nail’d in their coffins sure, I’ll ne’er believe ’em. 105
Shall I talk with her?
_Mir._ No, dear friend, be quiet,
And be at peace a while.
_Bel._ I ’ll walk aside,
And come again anon. But take heed to her:
You say she is a woman?
_Mir._ Yes.
_Bel._ Take great heed;
For, if she do not cozen thee, then hang me: 110
Let her be mad, or what she will, she ’ll cheat thee! _Exit._
_Mir._ Away, wild fool!—How vild this shows in him now!—
Now take my faith, (before ye all I speak it,)
And with it my repentant love.
_La Cast._ This seems well.
_Mir._ Were but this lady clear again, whose sorrows 115
My very heart melts for, were she but perfect,
(For thus to marry her would be two miseries,)
Before the richest and the noblest beauty,
France or the world could show me, I would take her.
As she is now, my tears and prayers shall wed her. 120
_De Gard._ This makes some small amends.
_Ros._ She beckons to ye;
To us, too, to go off.
_Nant._ Let’s draw aside all.
[_Exeunt all except_ ORIANA _and_ MIRABEL.]
_Ori._ Oh, my best friend! I would fain——
_Mir._ [_Aside._] What, she speaks well,
And with another voice.
_Ori._ But I am fearful.
And shame a little stops my tongue——
_Mir._ Speak boldly. 125
_Ori._ Tell ye, I am well. I am perfect well (pray ye, mock not);
And that I did this to provoke your nature;
Out of my infinite and restless love,
To win your pity. Pardon me!
_Mir._ Go forward:
Who set ye on?
_Ori._ None, as I live, no creature; 130
Not any knew or ever dream’d what I meant.
Will ye be mine?
_Mir._ ’T is true, I pity ye;
But, when I marry ye, ye must be wiser.
Nothing but tricks? devices?
_Ori._ Will ye shame me?
_Mir._ Yes, marry, will I.—Come near, come near! a miracle! 135
The woman’s well; she was only mad for marriage.
Stark mad to be ston’d to death: give her good counsel.
Will this world never mend?—Are ye caught, damsel?
_Enter_ BELLEUR, NANTOLET, LA CASTRE, DE GARD, LUGIER, ROSALURA, _and_
LILLIA BIANCA.
_Bel._ How goes it now?
_Mir._ Thou art a kind of prophet;
The woman’s well again, and would have gull’d me; 140
Well, excellent well, and not a taint upon her.
_Bel._ Did not I tell ye? Let ’em be what can be,
Saints, devils, any thing, they will abuse us:
Thou wert an ass to believe her so long, a coxcomb:
Give ’em a minute, they ’ll abuse whole millions. 145
_Mir._ And am not I a rare physician, gentlemen,
That can cure desperate mad minds?
_De Gard._ Be not insolent.
_Mir._ Well, go thy ways: from this hour I disclaim thee,
Unless thou hast a trick above this; then I ’ll love thee.
Ye owe me for your cure.—Pray, have a care of her, 150
For fear she fall into relapse.—Come, Belleur;
We ’ll set up bills to cure diseased virgins.
_Bel._ Shall we be merry?
_Mir._ Yes.
_Bel._ But I ’ll no more projects:
If we could make ’em mad, it were some mastery.
_Exeunt_ [MIRABEL _and_ BELLEUR].
_Lil._ I am glad she is well again.
_Ros._ So am I, certain.— 155
Be not ashamed.
_Ori._ I shall never see a man more.
_De Gard._ Come, ye are a fool: had ye but told me this trick,
He should not have gloried thus.
_Lug._ He shall not long, neither.
_La Cast._ Be rul’d, and be at peace. Ye have my consent, 159
And what power I can work with.
_Nant._ Come, leave blushing;
We are your friends: an honest way compell’d ye:
Heaven will not see so true a love unrecompens’d.
Come in, and slight him too.
_Lug._ The next shall hit him. _Exeunt._
ACT V
SCENE I.[3616]
_Enter_ DE GARD _and_ LUGIER.
_De Gard._ ’T will be discover’d.
_Lug._ That’s the worst can happen:
If there be any way to reach, and work upon him,
Upon his nature suddenly, and catch him—That he loves,
Though he dissemble it, and would show contrary,
And will at length relent, I ’ll lay my fortune;
Nay, more, my life.
_De Gard._ Is she won?
_Lug._ Yes, and ready, 6
And my designments set.
_De Gard._ They are now for travel;
All for that game again; they have forgot wooing.
_Lug._ Let ’em; we ’ll travel with ’em.
_De Gard._ Where ’s his father?
_Lug._ Within; he knows my mind too, and allows[3617] it, 10
Pities your sister’s fortune most sincerely,
And has appointed, for our more assistance,
Some of his secret friends.
_De Gard._ Speed the plough!
_Lug._ Well said!
And be you serious too.
_De Gard._ I shall be diligent.
_Lug._ Let’s break the ice for one, the rest will drink too 15
(Believe me, sir) of the same cup. My young gentlewomen
Wait but who sets the game a-foot. Though they seem stubborn,
Reserv’d, and proud now, yet I know their hearts,
Their pulses how they beat, and for what cause, sir,
And how they long to venture their abilities 20
In a true quarrel. Husbands they must and will have,
Or nunneries and thin collations
To cool their bloods. Let ’s all about our business,
And, if this fail, let nature work.
_De Gard._ Ye have arm’d me. _Exeunt._
SCENE II.[3618]
_Enter_ MIRABEL, NANTOLET, _and_ LA CASTRE.
_La Cast._ Will ye be wilful, then?
_Mir._ Pray, sir, your pardon;
For I must travel. Lie lazy here,
Bound to a wife! Chain’d to her subleties,
Her humours, and her wills, which are mere fetters!
To have her to-day pleas’d, to-morrow peevish,
The third day mad, the fourth rebellious! 6
You see before they are married, what moriscoes,[3619]
What masques and mummeries they put upon us:
To be tied here, and suffer their lavoltas![3620]
_Nant._ ’T is your own seeking.
_Mir._ Yes, to get my freedom. 10
Were they as I could wish ’em——
_La Cast._ Fools and meacocks,[3621]
To endure what you think fit to put upon ’em.
Come, change your mind.
_Mir._ Not before I have chang’d air, father.
When I know women worthy of my company,
I will return again, and wait, upon ’em; 15
Till then, dear sir, I ’ll amble all the world over,
And run all hazards, misery, and poverty.
_Enter_ PINAC _and_ BELLEUR.
So I escape the dangerous bay of matrimony.
_Pin._ Are ye resolv’d?
_Mir._ Yes, certain; I will out again.
_Pin._ We are for ye, sir; we are your servants once more; 20
Once more we ’ll seek our fortune in strange countries;
Ours is too scornful for us.
_Bel._ Is there ne’er a land
That you have read or heard of (for I care not how far it be,
Nor under what pestiferous star it lies), 24
A happy kingdom, where there are no women,
Nor have been ever, nor no mention
Of any such lewd things with lewder qualities,
(For thither would I travel) where ’t is felony
To confess he had a mother; a mistress, treason?
_La Cast._ Are you for travel too?
_Bel._ For any thing, 30
For living in the moon, and stopping hedges,[3622]
Ere I stay here to be abus’d and baffl’d.[3623]
_Nant._ Why did ye not break your minds to me? They are my daughters;
And, sure, I think I should have that command over ’em,
To see ’em well bestow’d. I know ye are gentlemen, 35
Men of fair parts and states; I know your parents:
And, had ye told me of your fair affections—
Make but one trial more, and let me second ye.
_Bel._ No; I ’ll make hob-nails first, and mend old kettles.
Can ye lend me an armour of high proof, to appear in, 40
And two or three field-pieces to defend me?
The king’s guard are mere pigmies.
_Nant._ They will not eat ye.
_Bel._ Yes, and you too, and twenty fatter monsieurs,
If their high stomachs hold. They came with chopping-knives,
To cut me into rands[3624] and sirloins, and so powder me.— 45
Come, shall we go?
_Nant._ You cannot be so discourteous,
If ye intend to go, as not to visit ’em,
And take your leaves.
_Mir._ That we dare do, and civilly,
And thank ’em too.
_Pin._ Yes, sir, we know that honesty.[3625]
_Bel._ I ’ll come i’ the rear, forty foot off, I ’ll assure ye, 50
With a good gun in my hand. I ’ll no more Amazons,
I mean, no more of their frights. I ’ll make my three legs,[3626]
Kiss my hand twice, and, if I smell no danger,
If the interview be clear, may be I ’ll speak to her;
I ’ll wear a privy coat[3627] too, and behind me, 55
To make those parts secure, a bandog.
_La Cast._ You are a merry gentleman.
_Bel._ A wary gentleman, I do assure you.
I have been warn’d; and must be arm’d.
_La Cast._ Well, son,
These are your hasty thoughts; when I see you are bent to it, 60
Then I ’ll believe, and join with ye: so, we’ll leave ye.—
[_Aside._] There ’s a trick will make ye stay.
_Nant._ [_Aside._] I hope so.
_Exeunt_ [LA CASTRE _and_ NANTOLET].
_Mir._ We have won immortal fame now, if we leave ’em.
_Pin._ You have; but we have lost.
_Mir._ Pinac, thou art cozen’d.
I know they love ye; and to gain ye handsomely, 65
Not to be thought to yield, they would give millions.
Their father’s willingness, that must needs show ye.
_Pin._ If I thought so——
_Mir._ Ye shall be hang’d, you recreant!
Would ye turn renegado now?
_Bel._ No; let ’s away, boys, 70
Out of the air and tumult of their villanies.
Though I were married to that grasshopper,
And had her fast by the legs, I should think
she would cozen me.
_Enter a_ Young [Man, _disguised as a_] Factor.
_Y. Man._ Monsieur Mirabel, I take it?
_Mir._ Y’ are i’ th’ right, sir.
_Y. Man._ I am come to seek ye, sir. I have
been at your father’s, 75
And, understanding you were here——
_Mir._ Ye are welcome.
May I crave your name?
_Y. Man._ Fosse, sir, and your servant.
That you may know me better, I am factor
To your old merchant, Leverdure.
_Mir._ How does he?
_Y. Man._ Well, sir, I hope; he is now at Orleans, 80
About some business.
_Mir._ You are once more welcome.
Your master ’s a right honest man, and one
I am much beholding to, and must very shortly
Trouble his love again.
_Y. Man._ You may be bold, sir.
_Mir._ Your business, if you please now?
_Y. Man._ This, it is sir. 85
I know ye well remember in your travel
A Genoa merchant——
_Mir._ I remember many.
_Y. Man._ But this man, sir, particularly; your own benefit
Must needs imprint him in ye; one Alberto,
A gentleman you sav’d from being murther’d 90
A little from Bologna:
I was then myself in Italy, and supplied ye;
Though haply you have forgot me now.
_Mir._ No, I remember ye,
And that Alberto too; a noble gentleman:
More to remember were to thank myself, sir. 95
What of that gentleman?
_Y. Man._ He is dead.
_Mir._ I am sorry.
_Y. Man._ But on his death-bed, leaving to his sister
All that he had, beside some certain jewels,
Which, with a ceremony, he bequeath’d to you 100
In grateful memory, he commanded strictly
His sister, as she lov’d him and his peace,
To see those jewels safe and true deliver’d,
And, with them, his last love. She, as tender
To observe his will, not trusting friend nor servant 105
With such a weight, is come herself to Paris
And at my master’s house.
_Mir._ You tell me a wonder.
_Y. Man._ I tell ye a truth, sir. She is young and handsome,
And well attended; of much state and riches;
So loving and obedient to her brother, 110
That, on my conscience, if he had given her also,
She would most willingly have made her tender.
_Mir._ May not I see her?
_Y. Man._ She desires it heartily.
_Mir._ And presently?
_Y. Man._ She is now about some business,
Passing accounts of some few debts here owing, 115
And buying jewels of a merchant.
_Mir._ Is she wealthy?
_Y. Man._ I would ye had her, sir, at all adventure!
Her brother had a main state.[3628]
_Mir._ And fair too?
_Y. Man._ The prime of all those parts of Italy, 120
For beauty and for courtesy.
_Mir._ I must needs see her.
_Y. Man._ ’T is all her business, sir. Ye may now see her;
But to-morrow will be fitter for your visitation,
For she is not yet prepared.
_Mir._ Only her sight, sir;
And, when you shall think fit, for further visit. 125
_Y. Man._ Sir, ye may see her, and I ’ll wait your coming.
_Mir._ And I ’ll be with ye instantly; I know the house:—
Meantime, my love and thanks, sir.
_Y. Man._ Your poor servant. _Exit._
_Pin._ Thou hast the strangest luck! What was that Alberto?
_Mir._ An honest noble merchant ’t was my chance 130
To rescue from some rogues had almost slain him;
And he in kindness to remember this!