Of Greece for learning and the fount of knowledge:
For here in Sparta there ’s not left amongst us
One wise man to direct; we ’re all turn’d madcaps.
’T is said Apollo is the god of herbs, 5
Then certainly he knows the virtue of ’em:
To Delphos I have sent too. If there can be
A help for nature, we are sure yet.
_Enter_ ORGILUS.
_Org._ Honour
Attend thy counsels ever!
_Bass._ I beseech thee
With all my heart, let me go from thee quietly;
I will not aught to do with thee, of all men. 11
The doubles[4221] of a hare,—or, in a morning,
Salutes from a splay-footed witch,—to drop
Three drops of blood at th’ nose just and no more,—
Croaking of ravens, or the screech of owls, 15
Are not so boding mischief as thy crossing
My private meditations. Shun me, prithee;
And if I cannot love thee heartily,
I ’ll love thee as well as I can.
_Org._ Noble Bassanes,
Mistake me not.
_Bass._ Phew! then we shall be troubled. 20
Thou wert ordain’d my plague—heaven make me thankful,
And give me patience too, heaven, I beseech thee.
_Org._ Accept a league of amity; for henceforth,
I vow, by my best genius, in a syllable,
Never to speak vexation. I will study 25
Service and friendship, with a zealous sorrow
For my past incivility towards ye.
_Bass._ Hey-day, good words, good words! I must believe ’em,
And be a coxcomb for my labour.
_Org._ Use not
So hard a language; your misdoubt is causeless. 30
For instance, if you promise to put on
A constancy of patience, such a patience
As chronicle or history ne’er mentioned,
As follows not example, but shall stand
A wonder and a theme for imitation, 35
The first, the index[4222] pointing to a second,
I will acquaint ye with an unmatch’d secret,
Whose knowledge to your griefs shall get a period.
_Bass._ Thou canst not, Orgilus; ’t is in the power
Of the gods only: yet, for satisfaction, 40
Because I note an earnest in thine utterance,
Unforc’d and naturally free, be resolute[4223]
The virgin-bays shall not withstand the lightning
With a more careless danger than my constancy
The full of thy relation. Could it move 45
Distraction in a senseless marble statue,
It should find me a rock: I do expect now
Some truth of unheard moment.
_Org._ To your patience
You must add privacy, as strong in silence
As mysteries lock’d-up in Jove’s own bosom. 50
_Bass._ A skull hid in the earth a treble age
Shall sooner prate.
_Org._ Lastly, to such direction
As the severity of a glorious action
Deserves to lead your wisdom and your judgment,
You ought to yield obedience.
_Bass._ With assurance 55
Of will and thankfulness.
_Org._ With manly courage
Please, then, to follow me.
_Bass._ Where’er, I fear not. _Exeunt omnes._
SCENE II.[4224]
_Loud music_. _Enter_ GRONEAS _and_ HEMOPHIL, _leading_ EUPHRANEA;
CHRISTALLA _and_ PHILEMA, _leading_ PROPHILUS; NEARCHUS _supporting_
CALANTHA; CROTOLON _and_ AMELUS. _Cease loud music; all make a stand._
_Cal._ We miss our servant Ithocles and Orgilus;
On whom attend they?
_Crot._ My son, gracious princess,
Whisper’d some new device, to which these revels
Should be but usher: wherein I conceive
Lord Ithocles and himself are actors. 5
_Cal._ A fair excuse for absence: as for Bassanes,
Delights to him are troublesome: Armostes
Is with the king?
_Crot._ He is.
_Cal._ On to the dance!—
Dear cousin, hand you the bride; the bridegroom must be
Intrusted to my courtship. Be not jealous, 10
Euphranea; I shall scarcely prove a temptress.—
Fall to our dance.
MUSIC.
NEARCHUS _dances with_ EUPHRANEA, PROPHILUS _with_ CALANTHA, CHRISTALLA
_with_ HEMOPHIL, PHILEMA _with_ GRONEAS.
_They dance the first change: during which_ ARMOSTES _enters._
_Arm._ (_in_ Calantha’s _ear_.) The king your father ’s dead.
_Cal._ To the other change.
_Arm._ Is ’t possible? _They dance again._
_Enter_ BASSANES.
_Bass._ [_whispers_ CALANTHA.] O, madam!
Penthea, poor Penthea ’s starved.
_Cal._ Beshrew thee!—
Lead to the next.
_Bass._ Amazement dulls my senses. 15
_They dance again._
_Enter_ ORGILUS.
_Org._ [_whispers_ CALANTHA.] Brave Ithocles is murder’d, murder’d
cruelly.
_Cal._ How dull this music sounds! Strike up more sprightly;
Our footings are not active like our heart,
Which treads the nimbler measure.
_Org._ I am thunderstruck.
_The last change. Cease music._
_Cal._ So! let us breathe awhile.—Hath not this motion, 20
Rais’d fresher colour on your cheeks?
_Near._ Sweet princess,
A perfect purity of blood enamels
The beauty of your white.
_Cal._ We all look cheerfully;
And, cousin, ’t is, methinks, a rare presumption
In any who prefer our lawful pleasures 25
Before their own sour censure, t’ interrupt
The custom of this ceremony bluntly.
_Near._ None dares, lady.
_Cal._ Yes, yes; some hollow voice deliver’d to me
How that the king was dead.
_Arm._ The king is dead: 30
That fatal news was mine; for in mine arms
He breath’d his last, and with his crown bequeath’d ye
Your mother’s wedding ring; which here I tender.
_Crot._ Most strange!
_Cal._ Peace crown his ashes! We are queen, then. 35
_Near._ Long live Calantha! Sparta’s sovereign queen!
_All._ Long live the queen!
_Cal._ What whispered Bassanes?
_Bass._ That my Penthea, miserable soul,
Was starv’d to death.
_Cal._ She ’s happy; she hath finish’d
A long and painful progress.—A third murmur
Pierc’d mine unwilling ears.
_Org._ That Ithocles 41
Was murder’d;—rather butcher’d, had not bravery
Of an undaunted spirit, conquering terror,
Proclaim’d his last act triumph over ruin.
_Arm._ How! murder’d!
_Cal._ By whose hand?
_Org._ By mine; this weapon 45
Was instrument to my revenge: the reasons
Are just, and known; quit him of these, and then
Never liv’d gentleman of greater merit,
Hope or abiliment[4225] to steer a kingdom.
_Crot._ Fie, Orgilus!
_Euph._ Fie, brother!
_Cal._ You have done it? 50
_Bass._ How it was done let him report, the forfeit
Of whose allegiance to our laws doth covet
Rigour of justice; but that done it is,
Mine eyes have been an evidence of credit
Too sure to be convinc’d.[4226] Armostes, rent not
Thine arteries with hearing the bare circumstances 56
Of these calamities; thou ’st lost a nephew,
A niece, and I a wife: continue man still;
Make me the pattern of digesting evils,
Who can outlive my mighty ones, not shrinking 60
At such a pressure as would sink a soul
Into what ’s most of death, the worst of horrors.
But I have seal’d a covenant with sadness,
And enter’d into bonds without condition,
To stand these tempests calmly; mark me, nobles, 65
I do not shed a tear, not for Penthea!
Excellent misery!
_Cal._ We begin our reign
With a first act of justice: thy confession,
Unhappy Orgilus, dooms thee a sentence;
But yet thy father’s or thy sister’s presence 70
Shall be excus’d.—Give, Crotolon, a blessing
To thy lost son;—Euphranea, take a farewell;—
And both be gone.
_Crot._ [_to_ ORGILUS.] Confirm thee, noble sorrow,
In worthy resolution!
_Euph._ Could my tears speak,
My griefs were slight.
_Org._ All goodness dwell amongst ye! 75
Enjoy my sister, Prophilus: my vengeance
Aim’d never at thy prejudice.
_Cal._ Now withdraw.
_Exeunt_ CROTOLON, PROPHILUS, _and_ EUPHRANEA.
Bloody relater of thy stains in blood,
For that thou hast reported him, whose fortunes
And life by thee are both at once snatch’d from him, 80
With honourable mention, make thy choice
Of what death likes thee best; there ’s all our bounty.—
But to excuse delays, let me, dear cousin,
Intreat you and these lords see execution
Instant before ye part.
_Near._ Your will commands us. 85
_Org._ One suit, just queen, my last: vouchsafe your clemency,
That by no common hand I be divided
From this my humble frailty.
_Cal._ To their wisdoms
Who are to be spectators of thine end
I make the reference. Those that are dead 90
Are dead; had they not now died, of necessity
They must have paid the debt they ow’d to nature
One time or other.—Use dispatch, my lords;
We ’ll suddenly prepare our coronation.
_Exeunt_ CALANTHA, PHILEMA, _and_ CHRISTALLA.
_Arm._ ’T is strange these tragedies should never touch on 95
Her female pity.
_Bass._ She has a masculine spirit;
And wherefore should I pule, and, like a girl,
Put finger in the eye? Let ’s be all toughness,
Without distinction betwixt sex and sex.
_Near._ Now, Orgilus, thy choice?
_Org._ To bleed to death. 100
_Arm._ The executioner?
_Org._ Myself, no surgeon;
I am well skill’d in letting blood. Bind fast
This arm, that so the pipes may from their conduits
Convey a full stream; here ’s a skilful instrument.
[_Shows his dagger._]
Only I am a beggar to some charity 105
To speed me in this execution
By lending th’ other prick to th’ tother arm,
When this is bubbling life out.
_Bass._ I am for ye;
It most concerns my art, my care, my credit.—
Quick, fillet both his arms.
_Org._ Gramercy, friendship! 110
Such courtesies are real which flow cheerfully
Without an expectation of requital.
Reach me a staff in this hand. [_They give him a staff._]
—If a proneness
Or custom in my nature from my cradle
Had been inclin’d to fierce and eager bloodshed, 115
A coward guilt, hid in a coward quaking,
Would have betray’d fame to ignoble flight
And vagabond pursuit of dreadful safety:
But look upon my steadiness, and scorn not
The sickness of my fortune, which, since Bassanes 120
Was husband to Penthea, had lain bed-rid.
We trifle time in words:—thus I show cunning
In opening of a vein too full, too lively.
[_Pierces the vein with his dagger._]
_Arm._ Desperate courage!
[_Near._][4227] Honourable infamy!
_Hem._ I tremble at the sight.
_Gro._ Would I were loose! 125
_Bass._ It sparkles like a lusty wine new broacht;
The vessel must be sound from which it issues.—
Grasp hard this other stick—I ’ll be as nimble—
But prithee, look not pale—have at ye! stretch out
Thine arm with vigour and [with][4228] unshook virtue.
[_Opens the vein._]
Good! O, I envy not a rival, fitted 131
To conquer in extremities. This pastime
Appears majestical; some high-tun’d poem
Hereafter shall deliver to posterity
The writer’s glory and his subject’s triumph. 135
How is ’t, man? Droop not yet.
_Org._ I feel no palsies.
On a pair-royal do I wait in death;
My sovereign, as his liegeman; on my mistress,
As a devoted servant; and on Ithocles,
As if no brave, yet no unworthy enemy. 140
Nor did I use an engine to entrap
His life, out of a slavish fear to combat
Youth, strength, or cunning;[4229] but for that I durst not
Engage the goodness of a cause on fortune,
By which his name might have outfac’d my vengeance. 145
O, Tecnicus, inspir’d with Phoebus’ fire!
I call to mind thy augury, ’t was perfect;
_Revenge proves its own executioner_.
When feeble man is bending to his mother,
The dust ’a was first fram’d on, thus be totters.
_Bass._ Life’s fountain is dri’d up.
_Org._ So falls the standard 151
Of my prerogative in being a creature!
A mist hangs o’er mine eyes, the sun’s bright splendour
Is clouded in an everlasting shadow;
Welcome, thou ice, that sitt’st about my heart
No heat can ever thaw thee. _Dies._
_Near._ Speech hath left him. 156
_Bass._ ’A has shook hands with time; his funeral urn
Shall be my charge: remove the bloodless body.
The coronation must require attendance;
That past, my few days can be but one mourning. _Exeunt._ 160
SCENE III.[4230]
_An altar covered with white_; _two lights of virgin wax, during which
music of recorders_; _enter four bearing_ ITHOCLES _on a hearse_, _or
in a chair, in a rich robe_, _with a crown on his head_; _place him on
one side of the altar_. _After him enter_ CALANTHA _in a white robe and
crown’d_; EUPHRANEA, PHILEMA, _and_ CHRISTALLA, _in white_; NEARCHUS,
ARMOSTES, CROTOLON, PROPHILUS, AMELUS, BASSANES, HEMOPHIL, and GRONEAS.
CALANTHA _goes and kneels before the altar_, _the rest stand off_, _the
women kneeling behind_, _the recorders cease during her devotions_.
_Soft music._ CALANTHA _and the rest rise_, _doing obeisance to the
altar_.
_Cal._ Our orisons are heard; the gods are merciful.—
Now tell me, you whose loyalties pay tribute
To us your lawful sovereign, how unskilful
Your duties or obedience is to render
Subjection to the sceptre of a virgin, 5
Who have been ever fortunate in princes
Of masculine and stirring composition.
A woman has enough to govern wisely
Her own demeanours, passions, and divisions.
A nation warlike and inur’d to practice 10
Of policy and labour cannot brook
A feminate authority: we therefore
Command your counsel, how you may advise us
In choosing of a husband whose abilities
Can better guide this kingdom.
_Near._ Royal lady, 15
Your law is in your will.
_Arm._ We have seen tokens
Of constancy too lately to mistrust it.
_Crot._ Yet, if your highness settle on a choice
By your own judgment both allow’d and lik’d of,
Sparta may grow in power, and proceed 20
To an increasing height.
_Cal._ Hold you the same mind?
_Bass._ Alas, great mistress, reason is so clouded
With the thick darkness of my infinite woes,
That I forecast nor dangers, hopes, or safety.
Give me some corner of the world to wear out 25
The remnant of the minutes I must number,
Where I may hear no sounds but sad complaints
Of virgins who have lost contracting partners;
Of husbands howling that their wives were ravisht
By some untimely fate; of friends divided 30
By churlish opposition; or of fathers
Weeping upon their children’s slaughtered carcases;
Or daughters groaning o’er their fathers’ hearses;
And I can dwell there, and with these keep consort
As musical as theirs. What can you look for 35
From an old, foolish, peevish, doting man
But craziness of age?
_Cal._ Cousin of Argos,—
_Near._ Madam?
_Cal._ Were I presently
To choose you for my lord, I ’ll open freely
What articles I would propose to treat on 40
Before our marriage.
_Near._ Name them, virtuous lady.
_Cal._ I would presume you would retain the royalty
Of Sparta in her own bounds; then in Argos
Armostes might be viceroy; in Messene
Might Crotolon bear sway; and Bassanes— 45
_Bass._ I, queen! alas, what I?
_Cal._ Be Sparta’s marshal.
The multitudes of high employments could not
But set a peace to private griefs. These gentlemen,
Groneas and Hemophil, with worthy pensions,
Should wait upon your person in your chamber.— 50
I would bestow Christalla on Amelus,
She ’ll prove a constant wife; and Philema
Should into Vesta’s Temple.
_Bass._ This is a testament!
It sounds not like conditions on a marriage.
_Near._ All this should be perfom’d.
_Cal._ Lastly, for Prophilus, 55
He should be, cousin, solemnly invested
In all those honours, titles, and preferments
Which his dear friend and my neglected husband
Too short a time enjoy’d.
_Pro._ I am unworthy
To live in your remembrance.
_Euph._ Excellent lady! 60
_Near._ Madam, what means that word, “neglected husband”?
_Cal._ Forgive me:—now I turn to thee, thou shadow
Of my contracted lord! Bear witness all,
I put my mother’s wedding-ring upon
Has finger; ’t was my father’s last bequest. 65
[_Places a ring on the finger of_ ITHOCLES.]
Thus I new-marry him whose wife I am;
Death shall not separate us. O, my lords,
I but deceiv’d your eyes with antic gesture,
When one news straight came huddling on another
Of death! and death! and death! still I danced forward; 70
But it struck home, and here, and in an instant.
Be such mere women, who with shrieks and outcries
Can vow a present end to all their sorrows,
Yet live to [court][4231] new pleasures, and outlive them.
They are the silent griefs which cut the heart-strings; 75
Let me die smiling.
_Near._ ’T is a truth too ominous.
_Cal._ One kiss on these cold lips, my last! [_Kisses_
ITHOCLES.]—Crack, crack!—
Argos now ’s Sparta’s king.—Command the voices
Which wait at th’ altar now to sing the song
I fitted for my end.
_Near._ Sirs, the song! 80
A Song.
_All._ Glories, pleasures, pomps, delights, and ease,
Can but please
Outward senses when the mind
Is [or][4232] untroubled or by peace refin’d.
1 [_Voice._] Crowns may flourish and decay, 85
Beauties shine, but fade away.
2 [_Voice._] Youth may revel, yet it must
Lie down in a bed of dust.
3 [_Voice._] Earthly honours flow and waste,
Time alone doth change and last. 90
_All._ Sorrows mingled with contents prepare
Rest for care;
Love only reigns in death; though art
Can find no comfort for a broken heart.
[CALANTHA _dies_.]
_Arm._ Look to the queen!
_Bass._ Her heart is broke, indeed. 95
O, royal maid, would thou hadst mist this part!
Yet ’t was a brave one. I must weep to see
Her smile in death.
_Arm._ Wise Tecnicus! thus said he;
_When youth is ripe, and age from time doth part,
The Lifeless Trunk shall wed the Broken Heart_
Is here fulfill’d.
_Near._ I am your king.
_All._ Long live 101
Nearchus, King of Sparta!
_Near._ Her last will 103
Shall never he digrest from: wait in order
Upon these faithful lovers, as becomes us.—
The counsels of the gods are never known 105
Till men can call th’ effects of them their own. [_Exeunt._]
THE EPILOGUE
Where noble judgments and clear eyes are fix’d
To grace endeavour, there sits truth, not mix’d
With ignorance; those censures may command
Belief which talk not till they understand.
Let some say, “This was flat;” some, “Here the scene 5
Fell from its height;” another, that the mean
Was “ill observ’d” in such a growing passion
As it transcended either state or fashion:
Some few may cry, “’T was pretty well,” or so,
“But—” and there shrug in silence; yet we know 10
Our writer’s aim was in the whole addrest
Well to deserve of _all_, but please the _best_:
Which granted, by th’ allowance of this strain
The BROKEN HEART may be piec’d up again.
THE LADY OF PLEASURE
BY JAMES SHIRLEY
[DRAMATIS PERSONAE]
LORD ——.
SIR THOMAS BORNWELL.
SIR WILLIAM SCENTLOVE, }
MASTER ALEXANDER KICKSHAW, } [Gallants.]
MASTER JOHN LITTLEWORTH, }
MASTER HAIRCUT, [a Barber.]
MASTER FREDERICK, [nephew to Lady Bornwell.]
Steward to the Lady Aretina.
Steward to the Lady Celestina.
Secretary [to Lord ——].
Servants, etc.
ARETINA, Sir Thomas Bornwell’s Lady.
CELESTINA, a young widow.
ISABELLA, }
MARIANA, } [Friends of Celestina.]
MADAM DECOY, [a Procuress.]
[Gentlewoman.]
SCENE.—_The Strand._
ACT I
[SCENE I.][4233]
_Enter_ Lady BORNWELL,[4234] _and her_ Steward.
_Stew._ Be patient, madam; you may have your pleasure.
_Lady B._[4234] ’T is that I came to town for. I would not
Endure again the country conversation,
To be the lady of six shires! The men,
So near the primitive making, they retain 5
A sense of nothing but the earth; their brains,
And barren heads standing as much in want
Of ploughing as their ground. To hear a fellow
Make himself merry and his horse, with whistling
Sellinger’s Round![4235] To observe with what solemnity 10
They keep their wakes, and throw for pewter candle-sticks!
How they become the morris, with whose bells
They ring all in to Whitsun-ales; and sweat,
Through twenty scarfs and napkins, till the hobby-horse[4236]
Tire, and the Maid Marian,[4236] dissolv’d to a jelly,
Be kept for spoon meat! 16
_Stew._ These, with your pardon, are no argument
To make the country life appear so hateful;
At least to your particular, who enjoy’d
A blessing in that calm, would you be pleas’d 20
To think so, and the pleasure of a kingdom;
While your own will commanded what should move
Delights, your husband’s love and power join’d
To give your life more harmony. You liv’d there
Secure, and innocent, belov’d of all; 25
Prais’d for your hospitality, and pray’d for:
You might be envi’d, but malice knew
Not where you dwelt. I would not prophesy,
But leave to your own apprehension,
What may succeed your change.
_Lady B._ You do imagine, 30
No doubt, you have talk’d wisely, and confuted
London past all defence. Your master should
Do well to send you back into the country,
With title of superintendent-bailiff.
_Stew._ How, madam!
_Lady B._ Even so, sir.
_Stew._ I am a gentleman, 35
Though now your servant.
_Lady B._ A country gentleman,
By your affection to converse with stubble.
His tenants will advance your wit, and plump it so
With beef and bag-pudding!
_Stew._ You may say your pleasure,
It becomes not me dispute.
_Lady B._ Complain to 40
The lord of the soil, your master.
_Stew._ You ’re a woman
Of an ungovern’d passion, and I pity you.
_Enter_ Sir THOMAS BORNWELL.
_Born._ How now? What ’s the matter?
_Stew._ Nothing, sir. [_Exit._]
_Born._ Angry, sweetheart?
_Lady B._ I am angry with myself,
To be so miserably restrain’d in things, 45
Wherein it doth concern your love and honour
To see me satisfied.
_Born._ In what, Aretina,
Dost thou accuse me? Have I not obey’d
All thy desires? Against mine own opinion
Quitted the country, and remov’d the hope 50
Of our return, by sale of that fair lordship
We liv’d in? Chang’d a calm and retir’d life
For this wild town, compos’d of noise and charge?[4237]
_Lady B._ What charge, more than is necessary for
A lady of my birth and education? 55
_Born._ I am not ignorant how much nobility
Flows in your blood; your kinsmen great and powerful
I’ th’ state; but with this, lose not you memory
Of being my wife. I shall be studious,
Madam, to give the dignity of your birth 60
All the best ornaments which become my fortune;
But would not flatter it, to ruin both,
And be the fable of the town, to teach
Other men loss of wit by mine, employ’d
To serve your vast expenses.
_Lady B._ Am I then 65
Brought in the balance? So, sir!
_Born._ Though you weigh
Me in a partial[4238] scale, my heart is honest,
And must take liberty to think you have
Obey’d no modest counsel, to affect,[4239] 69
Nay, study ways of pride and costly ceremony:
Your change of gaudy furniture, and pictures
Of this Italian master, and that Dutchman’s;
Your mighty looking-glasses, like artillery,
Brought home on engines; the superfluous plate,
Antique and novel; vanities of tires;[4240] 75
Fourscore-pound suppers for my lord, your kinsman,
Banquets for t’ other lady aunt, and cousins,
And perfumes that exceed all: train of servants,
To stifle us at home, and show abroad
More motley than the French or the Venetian, 80
About your coach, whose rude postillion
Must pester[4241] every narrow lane, till passengers
And tradesmen curse your choking up their stalls;
And common cries pursue your ladyship,
For hind’ring o’ their market.
_Lady B._ Have you done, sir? 85
_Born._ I could accuse the gaiety of your wardrobe,
And prodigal embroideries, under which
Rich satins, plushes, cloth of silver, dare
Not show their own complexions; your jewels,
Able to burn out the spectators’ eyes, 90
And show like bonfires on you by the tapers.
Something might here be spar’d, with safety of
Your birth and honour, since the truest wealth
Shines from the soul, and draws up just admirers.—
I could urge something more.
_Lady B._ Pray do, I like 95
Your homily of thrift.
_Born_. I could wish, madam,
You would not game so much.
_Lady B._ A gamester too!
_Born._ But are not come to that acquaintance yet,
Should teach you skill enough to raise your profit.
You look not through the subtilty of cards, 100
And mysteries of dice; nor can you save
Charge with the box, buy petticoats and pearls,
And keep your family by the precious income;
Nor do I wish you should: my poorest servant
Shall not upbraid my tables, nor his hire, 105
Purchas’d beneath my honour. You make play
Not a pastime but a tyranny, and vex
Yourself and my estate by it.
_Lady B._ Good! proceed.
_Born._ Another game you have, which consumes more
Your fame than purse; your revels in the night, 110
Your meetings called the “Ball,” to which repair,
As to the Court of Pleasure, all your gallants
And ladies, thither bound by a subpoena
Of Venus, and small Cupid’s high displeasure;
’T is but the Family of Love[4242] translated 115
Into more costly sin! There was a play on ’t,[4243]
And had the poet not been brib’d to a modest
Expression of your antic gambols in ’t,
Some darks had been discovered, and the deeds too.
In time he may repent, and make some blush,
To see the second part danc’d on the stage, 121
My thoughts acquit you for dishonouring me
By any foul act; but the virtuous know
’T is not enough to clear ourselves, but the
Suspicions of our shame.
_Lady B._ Have you concluded 125
Your lecture?
_Born._ I ha’ done; and howsoever
My language may appear to you, it carries
No other than my fair and just intent
To your delights, without curb to their modest[4244]
And noble freedom.
_Lady B._ I ’ll not be so tedious 130
In my reply; but, without art or elegance,
Assure you, I keep still my first opinion:
And though you veil your avaricious meaning
With handsome names of modesty and thrift,
I find you would intrench and wound the liberty 135
I was born with. Were my desires unprivileg’d
By example, while my judgment thought ’em fit,
You ought not to oppose; but when the practice
And track of every honourable lady
Authorise me, I take it great injustice 140
To have my pleasures circumscrib’d, and taught me.
A narrow-minded husband is a thief
To his own fame, and his preferment too;
He shuts his parts and fortunes from the world,
While, from the popular vote and knowledge, men 145
Rise to employment in the state.
_Born._ I have
No great ambition to buy preferment at
So dear a rate.
_Lady B._ Nor I to sell my honour,
By living poor and sparingly. I was not
Bred in that ebb of fortune, and my fate 150
Shall not compel me to it.
_Born._ I know not,
Madam; but you pursue these ways—
_Lady B._ What ways?
_Born._ In the strict sense of honesty, I dare
Make oath they are innocent.
_Lady B._ Do not divert,
By busy troubling of your brain, those thoughts
That should preserve ’em.
_Born._ How was that?
_Lady B._ ’T is English. 156
_Born._ But carries some unkind sense.
_Enter_ MADAM DECOY.
_Dec._ Good morrow, my sweet madam.
_Lady B._ Decoy! welcome;
This visit is a favour.
_Dec._ Alas, sweet madam,
I cannot stay: I came but to present 160
My service to your ladyship; I could not
Pass by your door, but I must take the boldness
To tender my respects.
_Lady B._ You oblige me, madam;
But I must not dispense so with your absence.
_Dec._ Alas, the coach, madam, stays for me at the door. 165
_Lady B._ Thou sha’t command mine; prithee, sweet Decoy—
_Dec._ I would wait on you, madam, but I have many
Visits to make this morning; I beseech—
_Lady B._ So you will promise to dine with me.
_Dec._ I shall
Present a guest.
_Lady B._ Why, then good morrow, madam.
_Dec._ A happy day shine on your ladyship! _Exit._ 171
_Re-enter_ Steward.
_Lady B._ What’s your news, sir?
_Stew._ Madam, two gentlemen.
_Lady B._ What gentlemen? Have they no names?
_Stew._ They are
The gentleman with his own head of hair,
Whom you commended for his horsemanship 175
In Hyde Park, and becoming so the saddle,
The t’ other day.
_Lady B._ What circumstance is this
To know him by?
_Stew._ His name ’s at my tongue’s end:—
He lik’d the fashion of your pearl chain, madam;
And borrowed it for his jeweller to take 180
A copy by it.
_Born._ [_Aside._] What cheating gallant ’s this?
_Stew._ That never walks without a lady’s busk,[4245]
And plays with fans—Master Alexander Kickshaw,—
I thought I should remember him.
_Lady B._ What ’s the other?
_Stew._ What an unlucky memory I have! 185
The gallant that still danceth in the street,
And wears a gross of ribbon in his hat;
That carries oringado[4246] in his pocket,
And sugar-plums, to sweeten his discourse;
That studies compliment, defies all wit 190
In black, and censures plays that are not bawdy—
Master John Littleworth.
_Lady B._ They are welcome; but
Pray entertain them a small time, lest I
Be unprovided.
_Born._ Did they ask for me?
_Stew._ No, sir.
_Born._ It matters not, they must be welcome.
_Lady B._ Fie! how ’s this hair disordered? Here ’s a curl 196
Straddles most impiously. I must to my closet. _Exit._
_Born._ Wait on ’em; my lady will return again. [_Exit_ Steward.]
I have to such a height fulfill’d[4247] her humour,
All application ’s[4248] dangerous: these gallants 200
Must be receiv’d, or she will fall into
A tempest, and the house be shook with names
Of all her kindred. ’T is a servitude
I may in time shake off.
_Enter_ ALEXANDER [KICKSHAW] _and_ LITTLEWORTH.
_Kick. and Little._ Save you, Sir Thomas!
_Born._ Save you, gentlemen!
_Kick._ I kiss your hand. 205
_Born._ What[4249] day is it abroad?
_Little._ The morning rises from your lady’s eye:
If she look clear, we take the happy omen
Of a fair day.
_Born._ She ’ll instantly appear,
To the discredit of your compliment; 210
But you express your wit thus.
_Kick._ And you modesty,
Not to affect[4250] the praises of your own.
_Born._ Leaving this subject, what game ’s now on foot?
What exercise carries the general vote
O’ the town? Nothing moves without your knowledge. 215
_Kick._ The cocking now has all the noise; I ’ll have
A hundred pieces of one battle.—Oh,
These birds of Mars!
_Little._ Venus is Mars his bird too.
_Kick._ Why, and the pretty doves are Venus’s,
To show that kisses draw the chariot. 220
_Little._ I am for that skirmish.
_Born._ When shall we have
More booths and bagpipes upon Banstead downs?
No mighty race is expected?—But my lady
Returns!
_Re-enter_ LADY BORNWELL.
_Lady B._ Fair morning to you, gentlemen!
You went not late to bed by your early visit. 225
You do me honour.
_Kick._ It becomes our service.
_Lady B._ What news abroad? You hold precious intelligence.
_Little._ All tongues are so much busy with your praise,
They have not time to frame other discourse.
Will ’t please you, madam, taste a sugar-plum?
_Born._ What does the goldsmith think the pearl is worth 231
You borrowed of my lady?
_Kick._ ’T is a rich one.
_Born._ She has many other toys, whose fashion you
Will like extremely: you have no intention
To buy any of her jewels?
_Kick._ Understand me— 235
_Born._ You had rather sell, perhaps. But, leaving this,
I hope you ’ll dine with us.
_Kick._ I came a’ purpose.
_Lady B._ And where were you last night?
_Kick._ I, madam? Where
I slept not; it had been sin, where so much
Delight and beauty was to keep me waking. 240
There is a lady, madam, will be worth
Your free society; my conversation
Ne’er knew so elegant and brave a soul,
With most incomparable flesh and blood;
So spirited! so courtly! speaks the languages, 245
Sings, dances, plays o’ th’ lute to admiration!
Is fair, and paints not; games too, keeps a table,
And talks most witty satire; has a wit
Of a clean Mercury—
_Little._ Is she married?
_Kick._ No.
_Lady B._ A virgin?
_Kick._ Neither.
_Little._ What! a widow! Something
Of this wide commendation might have 251
Excus’d. This such a prodigy!
_Kick._ Repent,
Before I name her: she did never see
Yet full sixteen, an age, in the opinion
Of wise men, not contemptible. She has 255
Mourn’d out her year, too, for the honest knight
That had compassion of her youth, and died
So timely. Such a widow is not common;
And now she shines more fresh and tempting
Than any natural virgin.
_Lady B._ What ’s her name? 260
_Kick._ She was christened Celestina; by her husband,
The Lady Bellamour: this ring was hers.
_Born._ You borrowed it to copy out the posy.
_Kick._ Are they not pretty rubies? ’t was a grace
She was pleas’d to show me, that I might have one 265
Made of the self-same fashion; for I love
All pretty forms.
_Lady B._ And is she glorious?
_Kick._ She is full of jewels, madam; but I am
Most taken with the bravery of her mind,
Although her garments have all grace and ornament. 270
_Lady B._ You have been high in praises.
_Kick._ I come short;
No flattery can reach her.
_Born._ [_Aside._] Now my lady
Is troubled, as she fear’d to be eclips’d:
This news will cost me somewhat.
_Lady B._ You deserve
Her favour, for this noble character. 275
_Kick._ And I possess it, by my stars benevolence.
_Lady B._ You must bring us acquainted.
_Born._ I pray do, sir;
I long to see her too.—Madam, I have
Thought upon ’t, and corrected my opinion.
Pursue what ways of pleasure your desires 280
Incline you to, not only with my state,
But with my person; I will follow you.
I see the folly of my thrift, and will
Repent in sack and prodigality,
To your own heart’s content.
_Lady B._ But do not mock. 285
_Born._ Take me to your embraces, gentlemen,
And tutor me.
_Little._ And will you kiss the ladies?
_Born._ And sing and dance. I long to see this beauty;
I would fain lose a hundred pounds at dice now.
Thou sha’t have another gown and petticoat 290
To-morrow. Will you sell my running-horses?
We have no Greek wine in the house, I think;
Pray send one of our footmen to the merchant,
And throw the hogshead of March-beer into 294
The kennel,[4251] to make room for sack and claret.
What think you to be drunk yet before dinner?
We will have constant music, and maintain
Them and their fiddles in fantastic liveries:
I ’ll tune my voice to catches. I must have
My dining-room enlarg’d, to invite ambassadors. 300
We ’ll feast the parish in the fields, and teach
The military men new discipline,
Who shall charge all their great artillery
With oranges and lemons, boy, to play
All dinner upon our capons.
_Kick._ He ’s exalted! 305
_Born._ I will do anything to please my lady,
Let that suffice; and kiss o’ th’ same condition.
I am converted; do not you dispute,
But patiently allow the miracle.
_Lady B._ I am glad to hear you, sir, in so good tune. 310
_Enter_ Servant.
_Serv._ Madam, the painter.
_Lady B._ I am to sit this morning.
_Born._ Do, while I give new directions to my steward.
_Kick._ With your favour, we’ll wait on you: sitting’s but
A melancholy exercise without
Some company to discourse.
_Lady B._ It does conclude 315
A lady’s morning work. We rise, make fine,
Sit for our picture, and ’t is time to dine.
_Little._ Praying’s forgot.
_Kick._ ’T is out of fashion. _Exeunt._
[SCENE II.][4252]
_Enter_ CELESTINA _and her_ Steward.
_Cel._ Fie! what an air this room has!
_Stew._ ’T is perfum’d.
_Cel._ With some cheap stuff. Is it your wisdom’s thrift
To infect my nostrils thus? Or is’t to favour
The gout in your worship’s hand, you are afraid
To exercise your pen in your account book? 5
Or do you doubt my credit to discharge
Your bills?
_Stew._ Madam, I hope you have not found
My duty, with the guilt of sloth or jealousy,
Unapt to your command.
_Cel._ You can extenuate
Your faults with language, sir; but I expect 10
To be obey’d. What hangings have we here!
_Stew._ They are arras, madam.
_Cel._ Impudence! I know’t.
I will have fresher, and more rich; not wrought
With faces that may scandalize a Christian, 14
With Jewish stories stuft with corn and camels.
You had best wrap all my chambers in wild Irish,
And make a nursery of monsters here,
To fright the ladies come to visit me.
_Stew._ Madam, I hope—
_Cel._ I say I will have other,
Good Master Steward, of a finer loom; 20
Some silk and silver, if your worship please
To let me be at so much cost. I’ll have
Stories to fit the seasons of the year,
And change as often as I please.
_Stew._ You shall, madam.
_Cel._ I am bound to your consent, forsooth! And is 25
My coach brought home?
_Stew._ This morning I expect it.
_Cel._ The inside, as I gave direction,
Of crimson plush?
_Stew._ Of crimson camel plush.
_Cel._ Ten thousand moths consume ’t! Shall I ride through
The streets in penance, wrapt up round in hair cloth? 30
Sell’t to an alderman, ’t will serve his wife
To go a feasting to their country-house;
Or fetch a merchant’s nurse-child, and come home
Laden with fruit and cheese-cakes. I despise it!
_Stew._ The nails adorn it, madam, set in method, 35
And pretty forms.
_Cel._ But single gilt, I warrant.
_Stew._ No, madam.
_Cel._ Another solecism! Oh fie!
This fellow will bring me to a consumption
With fretting at his ignorance. Some lady
Had rather never pray than go to church in’t. 40
The nails not double gilt! To market wo’t?[4253]
’T will hackney out to Mile-end, or convey
Your city tumblers[4254] to be drunk with cream
And prunes at Islington.[4255]
_Stew._ Good madam, hear me.
_Cel._ I’ll rather be beholding to my aunt, 45
The countess, for her mourning coach, than be
Disparag’d so. Shall any juggling tradesman
Be at charge to shoe his running-horse with gold,
And shall my coach nails be but single gilt!
How dare these knaves abuse me so?
_Stew._ Vouchsafe 50
To hear me speak.
_Cel._ Is my sedan yet finish’d,
And liveries for my men-mules,[4256] according
As I gave charge?
_Stew._ Yes, madam, it is finish’d,
But without tilting-plumes at the four corners;
The scarlet’s pure, but not embroidered. 55
_Cel._ What mischief were it to your conscience
Were my coach lin’d with tissue, and my harness
Cover’d with needle-work? if my sedan
Had all the story of the prodigal
Embroidered with pearl?
_Stew._ Alas, good madam, 60
I know ’t is your own cost; I am but your steward,
And would discharge my duty the best way,
You have been pleas’d to hear me; ’t is not for
My profit that I manage your estate
And save expense, but for your honour, madam.
_Cel._ How, sir! my honour?
_Stew._ Though you hear it not, 66
Men’s tongues are liberal in your character,
Since you began to live thus high. I know
Your fame is precious to you.
_Cel._ I were best
Make you my governor. Audacious varlet! 70
How dare you interpose your doting counsel?
Mind your affairs with more obedience,
Or I shall ease you of an office, sir.
Must I be limited to please your honour,
Or, for the vulgar breath, confine my pleasures?
I will pursue ’em in what shapes I fancy, 76
Here, and abroad; my entertainments shall
Be oft’ner, and more rich. Who shall control me?
I live i’ th’ Strand, whither few ladies come
To live, and purchase more than fame. I will
Be hospitable then, and spare no cost 81
That may engage all generous report
To trumpet forth my bounty and my bravery,[4257]
Till the court envy, and remove. I’ll have
My house the academy of wits, who shall 85
Exalt their genius with rich sack and sturgeon,
Write panegyrics of my feasts, and praise
The method of my witty superfluities.
The horses shall be taught, with frequent waiting
Upon my gates, to stop in their career 90
Toward Charing-cross, spite of the coachman’s fury;
And not a tilter but shall strike[4258] his plume,
When he sails by my window: my balcony
Shall be the courtier’s idol, and more gaz’d at
Than all the pageantry at Temple Bar, 95
By country clients.
_Stew._ Sure my lady’s mad.
_Cel._ Take that for your ill manners. [_Strikes him._]
_Stew._ Thank you, madam.—
I would there were less quicksilver in your fingers. _Exit._
_Cel._ There ’s more than simple honesty in a servant
Requir’d to his full duty; none should dare 100
But with a look, much less a saucy language,
Check at their mistress’ pleasure. I’m resolv’d
To pay for some delight, my estate will bear it;
I’ll rein it shorter when I please.
_Re-enter_ Steward.
_Stew._ A gentleman
Desires to speak with your ladyship.
_Cel._ His name? 105
_Stew._ He says you know him not; he seems to be
Of quality.
_Cel._ Admit him. [_Exit_ Steward.]
_Enter_ HAIRCUT.
Sir, with me?
_Hair._ Madam, I know not how you may receive
This boldness from me; but my fair intents
Known, will incline you to be charitable. 110
_Cel._ No doubt, sir.
_Hair._ He must live obscurely, madam,
That hath not heard what virtues you possess;
And I, a poor admirer of your fame,
Am come to kiss your hand.
_Cel._ That all your business?
_Hair._ Though it were worth much travel, I have more 115
In my ambition.
_Cel._ Speak it freely, sir.
_Hair._ You are a widow.
_Cel._ So!
_Hair._ And I a bachelor.
_Cel._ You come a wooing, sir, and would perhaps
Show me a way to reconcile the two?
_Hair._ And bless my stars for such a happiness. 120
_Cel._ I like you, sir, the better, that you do not
Wander about, but shoot home to the meaning;
It is a confidence will make a man
Know sooner what to trust to: but I never
Saw you before, and I believe you come not 125
With hope to find me desperate upon marriage.
If maids, out of their ignorance of what
Men are, refuse these offers, widows may,
Out of their knowledge, be allow’d some coyness:
And yet I know not how much happiness 130
A peremptory answer may deprive me of;—
You may be some young lord, and though I see not
Your footmen and your groom, they may not be
Far off, in conference with your horse. Please you
To instruct me with your title, against which
I would not willingly offend.
_Hair._ I am 136
A gentleman; my name is Haircut, madam.
_Cel._ Sweet Master Haircut, are you a courtier?
_Hair._ Yes.
_Cel._ I did think so, by your confidence.
Not to detain you, sir, with circumstance, 140
I was not so unhappy in my husband,
But that ’t is possible I may be a wife
Again; but I must tell you, he that wins
My affection, shall deserve me.
_Hair._ I will hope,
If you can love, I shall not present, madam, 145
An object to displease you in my person:
And when time, and your patience, shall possess you
With further knowledge of me, and the truth
Of my devotion, you will not repent
The offer of my service.
_Cel._ You say well. 150
How long do you imagine you can love, sir?
Is it a quotidian, or will it hold
But every other day?
_Hair._ You are pleasant,[4259] madam.
_Cel._ Does it take you with a burning at the first,
Or with a cold fit? for you gentlemen 155
Have both your summer and your winter service.
_Hair._ I am ignorant what you mean; but I shall never
Be cold in my affection to such beauty.
_Cel._ And ’t will be somewhat long ere I be warm in’t.
_Hair._ If you vouchsafe me so much honour, madam, 160
That I may wait on you sometimes, I sha’ not
Despair to see a change.
_Cel._ But now I know
Your mind, you shall not need to tell it when
You come again; I shall remember it.
_Hair._ You make me fortunate.
_Re-enter_ Steward.
_Stew._ Madam, your kinswomen, 165
The lady Novice, and her sister, are
New lighted from their coach.
_Cel._ I did expect ’em,
They partly are my pupils. I ’ll attend ’em. [_Exit_ Steward.]
_Hair._ Madam, I have been too great a trespasser
Upon your patience; I will take my leave. 170
You have affairs, and I have some employment
Calls me to court; I shall present again
A servant to you. _Exit._
_Cel._ Sir, you may present,
But not give fire, I hope.—Now to the ladies.
This recreation ’s past, the next must be 175
To read to them some court philosophy. _Exit._
ACT II
SCENE I.[4260]
_Enter_ SIR THOMAS BORNWELL.
_Born._ ’T is a strange humour I have undertaken,
To dance, and play, and spend as fast as she does;
But I am resolv’d: it may do good upon her,
And fright her into thrift. Nay, I ’ll endeavour
To make her jealous too; if this do not 5
Allay her gamboling, she ’s past a woman,
And only a miracle must tame her.
_Enter_ Steward.
_Stew._ ’T is master Frederick, my lady’s nephew.
_Born._ What of him?
_Stew._ Is come from the university.
_Born._ By whose directions?
_Stew._ It seems, my lady’s.
_Born._ Let me speak with him 10
Before he see his aunt. [_Exit_ Stew.]—I do not like it.—
_Enter_ [Steward, _with_] MASTER FREDERICK, [_in his college dress_.]
Master Frederick, welcome! I expected not
So soon your presence; what ’s the hasty cause?
_Fred._ These letters, from my tutor, will acquaint you.
[_Gives_ BORNWELL _letters._]
_Stew._ Welcome home, sweet Master Frederick!
_Fred._ Where ’s my aunt? 15
_Stew._ She ’s busy about her painting, in her closet;
The outlandish man of art is copying out
Her countenance.
_Fred._ She is sitting for her picture?
_Stew._ Yes, sir; and when ’t is drawn she will be hang’d
Next the French cardinal, in the dining-room.
But when she hears you ’re come, she will dismiss 21
The Belgic gentleman, to entertain
Your worship.
_Fred._ Change of air has made you witty.
_Born._ Your tutor gives you a handsome character,
Frederick, and is sorry your aunt’s pleasure 25
Commands you from your studies; but I hope
You have no quarrel to the liberal arts.
Learning is an addition[4261] beyond
Nobility of birth. Honour of blood,
Without the ornament of knowledge, is 30
A glorious[4262] ignorance.
_Fred._ I never knew more sweet and happy hours
Than I employ’d upon my books. I heard
A part of my philosophy, and was so
Delighted with the harmony of nature, 35
I could have wasted my whole life upon ’t.
_Born._ [_Aside._] ’T is pity a rash indulgence should corrupt
So fair a genius! She ’s here; I ’ll observe.
_Enter_ Lady BORNWELL, KICKSHAW, _and_ LITTLEWORTH.
_Fred._ My most lov’d aunt!
_Lady B._ Support me, I shall faint.
_Little._ What ails your ladyship?
_Lady B._ Is that Frederick, 40
In black?
_Kick._ Yes, madam; but the doublet ’s satin.
_Lady B._ The boy ’s undone!
_Fred._ Madam, you appear troubled.
_Lady B._ Have I not cause? Was not I trusted with
Thy education, boy, and have they sent thee
Home like a very scholar!
_Kick._ ’T was ill done, 45
Howe’er they us’d him in the university,
To send him to his friends thus.
_Fred._ Why, sir? Black,
(For ’t is the colour that offends your eye-sight,)
Is not, within my reading, any blemish;
Sables are no disgrace in heraldry. 50
_Kick._ ’T is coming from the college thus, that makes it
Dishonourable. While you wore it for
Your father, it was commendable; or were
Your aunt dead, you might mourn, and justify.
_Lady B._ What luck[4263] I did not send him into France! 55
They would have given him generous education,
Taught him another garb, to wear his lock,[4264]
And shape, as gaudy as the summer; how
To dance, and wag his feather _à-la-mode_,
To compliment, and cringe; to talk not modestly, 60
Like, “ay forsooth,” and “no forsooth;” to blush,
And look so like a chaplain!—There he might
Have learn’d a brazen confidence, and observ’d
So well the custom of the country, that
He might, by this time, have invented fashions
For us, and been a benefit to the kingdom; 66
Preserv’d our tailors in their wits, and sav’d
The charge of sending into foreign courts
For pride and antic fashions.—Observe
In what a posture he does hold his hat now! 70
_Fred._ Madam, with your pardon, you have practis’d
Another dialect than was taught me when
I was commended to your care and breeding.
I understand not this; Latin or Greek
Are more familiar to my apprehension: 75
Logic was not so hard in my first lectures
As your strange language.
_Lady B._ Some strong waters; oh!
_Little._ Comfits will be as comfortable to your stomach, madam.
[_Offers his box._]
_Lady B._ I fear he ’s spoil’d for ever! He did name
Logic, and may, for aught I know, be gone 80
So far to understand it. I did always
Suspect they would corrupt him in the college.—
Will your Greek saws and sentences discharge
The mercer? Or is Latin a fit language
To court a mistress in?—Master Alexander, 85
If you have any charity, let me
Commend him to your breeding.—I suspect
I must employ my doctor first, to purge
The university that lies in ’s head;
It alters his complexion.
_Kick._ If you dare 90
Trust me to serve him—
_Lady B._ Master Littleworth,
Be you join’d in commission.
_Little._ I will teach him
Postures and rudiments.
_Lady B._ I have no patience
To see him in this shape; it turns my stomach.
When he has cast his academic skin 95
He shall be yours. I am bound in conscience
To see him bred; his own state shall maintain
The charge, while he ’s my ward.—Come hither, sir.
_Fred._ What does my aunt mean to do with me?
_Stew._ To make you a fine gentleman, and translate you 100
Out of your learned language, sir, into
The present Goth and Vandal, which is French.
_Born._ [_Aside._] Into what mischief will this humour ebb?
She will undo the boy; I see him ruin’d.
My patience is not manly; but I must 105
Use stratagem to reduce her: open ways
Give me no hope.
_Stew._ You shall be obey’d, madam.
_Exeunt_ [_all but_ FREDERICK _and_ Steward].
_Fred._ Master Steward, are you sure we do not dream?
Was ’t not my aunt you talkt to?
_Stew._ One that loves you
Dear as her life. These clothes do not become you, 110
You must have better, sir—
_Fred._ There are not old.
_Stew._ More suitable to the town and time; we keep
No Lent here, nor is ’t my lady’s pleasure you
Should fast from anything you have a mind to;
Unless it be your learning, which she would have you 115
Forget with all convenient speed that may be,
For the credit of your noble family.
The case is alter’d since we liv’d i’ th’ country;
We do not now invite the poor o’ th’ parish
To dinner, keep a table for the tenants; 120
Our kitchen does not smell of beef; the cellar
Defies the price of malt and hops; the footmen
And coach-drivers may be drunk like gentlemen,
With wine; nor will three fiddlers upon holidays,
With aid of bag-pipes, that call’d in the country 125
To dance, and plough the hall up with their hob-nails,
Now make my lady merry. We do feed
Like princes, and feast nothing else but princes;
And are these robes fit to to be seen amongst ’em?
_Fred._ My lady keeps a court then! Is Sir Thomas 130
Affected[4265] with this state and cost?
_Stew._ He was not,
But is converted: and I hope you wo’ not
Persist in heresy, but take a course
Of riot, to content your friends; you shall
Want nothing, if you can be proud, and spend it 135
For my lady’s honour. Here are a hundred
Pieces, will serve you till you have new clothes;
I will present you with a nag of mine,
Poor tender of my service, please you accept;
My lady’s smile more than rewards me for it. 140
I must provide fit servants to attend you,
Monsieurs, for horse and foot.
_Fred._ I shall submit,
If this be my aunt’s pleasure, and be rul’d;
My eyes are open’d with this purse already,
And sack will help to inspire me. I must spend it? 145
_Stew._ What else, sir?
_Fred._ I ’ll begin with you: to encourage
You to have still a special care of me,
There is five pieces,—not for your nag.
_Stew._ No, sir; I hope it is not.
_Fred._ Buy a beaver
For thy own block;[4266] I shall be rul’d. Who does 150
Command the wine cellar?
_Stew._ Who commands but you, sir?
_Fred._ I ’ll try to drink a health or two, my aunt’s,
Or anybody’s; and if that foundation
Stagger me not too much, I will commence
In all the arts of London.
_Stew._ If you find, sir, 155
The operation of the wine exalt
Your blood to the desire of any female
Delight, I know your aunt wo’ not deny
Any of her chambermaids to practise on;
She loves you but too well.
_Fred._ I know not how 160
I may be for that exercise.—Farewell, Aristotle,
Prithee commend me to the library
At Westminster; my bones I bequeath thither,
And to the learned worms that mean to visit ’em.
I will compose myself; I begin to think 165
I have lost time indeed.—Come to the wine cellar. _Exeunt._
[SCENE II.][4267]
_Enter_ CELESTINA, MARIANA, _and_ ISABELLA.
_Mar._ But shall we not, madam, expose ourselves
To censure for this freedom?
_Cel._ Let them answer
That dare mistake us. Shall we be so much
Cowards, to be frighted from our pleasure,
Because men have malicious tongues, and show
What miserable souls they have? No, cousin, 6
We hold our life and fortunes upon no
Man’s charity; if they dare show so little
Discretion to traduce our fames, we will
Be guilty of so much wit to laugh at ’em. 10
_Isab._ ’T is a becoming fortitude.
_Cel._ My stars
Are yet kind to me; for, in a happy minute
Be ’t spoke, I ’m not in love, and men shall never
Make my heart lean with sighing, nor with tears
Draw on my eyes the infamy of spectacles. 15
’T is the chief principle to keep your heart
Under your own obedience; jest, but love not.
I say my prayers, yet can wear good clothes,
And only satisfy my tailor for ’em.
I will not lose my privilege. 20
_Mar._ And yet they say your entertainments are,
Give me your pardon, madam, to proclaim
Yourself a widow, and to get a husband.
_Cel._ As if a lady of my years, some beauty,
Left by her husband rich, that had mourn’d for him 25
A twelvemonth too, could live so obscure i’ th’ town,
That gallants would not know her, and invite
Themselves, without her chargeable[4268] proclamations!
Then we are worse than citizens: no widow
Left wealthy can be thoroughly warm in mourning, 30
But some one noble blood, or lusty kindred,
Claps in, with his gilt coach, and Flandrian[4269] trotters,
And hurries her away to be a countess.
Courtiers have spies, and great ones with large titles,
Cold in their own estates, would warm themselves 35
At a rich city bonfire.
_Isab._ Most true, madam.
_Cel._ No matter for corruption of the blood:
Some undone courtier made her husband rich,
And this new lord receives it back again.
Admit it were my policy, and that 40
My entertainments pointed to acquaint me
With many suitors, that I might be safe
And make the best election, could you blame me?
_Mar._ Madam, ’t is wisdom.
_Cel._ But I should be
In my thoughts miserable, to be fond[4270] 45
Of leaving the sweet freedom I possess,
And court myself into new marriage fetters.
I now observe men’s several wits and windings,[4271]
And can laugh at their follies.
_Mar._ You have given
A most ingenious satisfaction. 50
_Cel._ One thing I ’ll tell you more, and this I give you
Worthy your imitation, from my practice:
You see me merry, full of song and dancing,
Pleasant in language, apt to all delights
That crown a public meeting; but you cannot
Accuse me of being prodigal of my favours 56
To any of my guests. I do not summon,
By any wink, a gentleman to follow me
To my withdrawing chamber; I hear all
Their pleas in court, nor can they boast abroad,
And do me justice, after a salute,[4272] 61
They have much conversation with my lip.
I hold the kissing of my hand a courtesy,
And he that loves me, must, upon the strength
Of that, expect till I renew his favour. 65
Some ladies are so expensive in their graces
To those that honour ’em, and so prodigal,
That in a little time they have nothing but
The naked sin left to reward their servants;
Whereas, a thrift in our rewards will keep 70
Men long in their devotion, and preserve
Ourselves in stock, to encourage those that honour us.
_Isab._ This is an art worthy a lady’s practice.
_Cel._ It takes not from the freedom of our mirth,
But seems to advance it, when we can possess
Our pleasures with security of our honour; 76
And, that preserv’d, I welcome all the joys
My fancy can let in. In this I have given
The copy of my mind; nor do I blush
You understand it.
_Isab._ You have honour’d us. 80
_Enter_ CELESTINA’S Gentlewoman.
_Gentlew._ Madam, Sir William Scentlove’s come to wait on you.
_Cel._ There ’s one would be a client.—Make excuse
For a few minutes. [_Exit_ Gentlewoman.]
_Mar._ One that comes a wooing?
_Cel._ Such a thing he would seem, but in his guiltiness
Of little land, his expectation is not 85
So valiant as it might be. He wears rich clothes,
And feeds with noblemen; to some, I hear,
No better than a wanton emissary,
Or scout for Venus’ wild fowl; which made tame,
He thinks no shame to stand court sentinel, 90
In hope of the reversion.
_Mar._ I have heard
That some of them are often my lord’s tasters,
The first fruits they condition for, and will
Exact as fees, for the promotion.
_Cel._ Let them agree; there ’s no account shall lie 95
For me among their traffic.
_Re-enter_ Gentlewoman.
_Gentlew._ Master Haircut, madam,
Is new come in, to tender you his service.
_Cel._ Let him discourse a little with Sir William.
_Exit_ Gentlewoman.
_Mar._ What is this gentleman, Master Haircut, madam?
I note him very gallant, and much courted 100
By gentlemen of quality.
_Cel._ I know not,
More than a trim gay man; he has some great office,
Sure, by his confident behaviour.
He would be entertain’d under the title
Of servant[4273] to me, and I must confess, 105
He is the sweetest of all men that visit me.
_Isab._ How mean you, madam?
_Cel._ He is full of powder;
He will save much in perfume for my chamber,
Were he but constant here.—Give ’em access.
_Enter_ SIR WILLIAM SCENTLOVE _and_ HAIRCUT.
_Scent._ Madam, the humblest of your servants is
Exalted to a happiness, if you smile 111
Upon my visit.
_Hair._ I must beg your charity
Upon my rudeness, madam; I shall give
That day up lost to any happiness,
When I forget to tender you my service. 115
_Cel._ You practise courtship, gentlemen.
_Scent._ But cannot
Find where with more desert to exercise it.
What lady ’s this, I pray?
_Cel._ A kinswoman
Of mine, Sir William.
_Scent._ I am more her servant.
_Cel._ You came from court, now, I presume?
_Hair._ ’T is, madam, 120
The sphere I move in, and my destiny
Was kind to place me there, where I enjoy
All blessings that a mortal can possess,
That lives not in your presence; and I should
Fix my ambition, when you would vouchsafe 125
Me so much honour, to accept from me
An humble entertainment there.
_Cel._ But by
What name shall I be known? In what degree
Shall I be of kindred to you?
_Hair._ How mean you, madam?
_Cel._ Perhaps you ’ll call me sister, I shall take it 130
A special preferment; or it may be
I may pass under title of your mistress,
If I seem rich, and fair enough, to engage
Your confidence to own me.
_Hair._ I would hope—
_Cel._ But ’t is not come to that yet: you will, sir. 135
Excuse my mirth.
_Hair._ Sweet madam!
_Cel._ Shall I take
Boldness to ask what place you hold in court?
’T is an uncivil curiosity;
But you ’ll have mercy to a woman’s question.
_Hair._ My present condition, madam, carries
Honour and profit, though not to be nam’d 141
With that employment I expect i’ th’ state,
Which shall discharge the first maturity
Upon your knowledge; until then, I beg
You allow a modest silence.
_Cel._ I am charm’d, sir; 145
And if you scape ambassador, you cannot
Reach a preferment wherein I ’m against you.
But where is Sir William Scentlove?
_Hair._ Give him leave
To follow his nose, madam, while he hunts
In view,—he ’ll soon be at a fault.[4274]
_Cel._ You know him? 150
_Hair._ Know Scentlove? Not a page but can decipher him;
The waiting-women know him to a scruple;
He ’s called the blister-maker of the town.
_Cel._ What ’s that?
_Hair._ The laundry ladies can resolve you,
And you may guess: an arrant epicure, 155
As this day lives, born to a pretty wit,
A knight, too; but no gentleman. I must
Be plain to you;—your ladyship may have
Use of this knowledge, but conceal the author.
_Scent._ I kiss your fairest hand.
_Mar._ You make a difference; 160
Pray reconcile them to an equal whiteness.
_Scent._ You wound my meaning, lady.
_Cel._ Nay, Sir William
Has the art of compliment.
_Scent._ Madam, you honour me
’Bove my desert of language.
_Cel._ Will you please
To enrich me with your knowledge of that gentleman? 165
_Scent._ Do you not know him, madam?
_Cel._ What is he?
_Scent._ A camphire ball; you shall know more hereafter;
He shall tell you himself, and save my character;
Till then,—you see he ’s proud.
_Cel._ One thing, gentlemen,
I observe in your behaviour, which is rare 170
In two that court one mistress: you preserve
A noble friendship; there ’s no gum within
Your hearts; you cannot fret,[4275] or show an envy
Of one another’s hope; some would not govern
Their passions with that temper!
_Scent._ The whole world 175
Shall nor divorce our friendship.—Master Haircut!
Would I had lives to serve him! He is lost
To goodness does not honour him.
_Hair._ My knight!
_Cel._ [_Aside._] This is right playing at court shuttlecock. 179
_Re-enter_ Gentlewoman.
_Gentlew._ Madam, there is a gentleman desires
To speak wi’ ye, one Sir Thomas Bornwell.
_Cel._ Bornwell?
_Gentlew._ He says he is a stranger to your ladyship.
_Scent._ I know him.
_Hair._ Your neighbour, madam.
_Scent._ Husband to
The lady that so revels in the Strand.
_Hair._ He has good parts, they say, but cannot help 185
His lady’s bias.
_Cel._ They have both much fame
I’ th’ town, for several merits. Pray admit him.
[_Exit_ Gentlewoman.]
_Hair._ [_Aside._] What comes he for?
_Enter_ SIR THOMAS BORNWELL.
_Born._ Your pardon, noble lady, that I have
Presum’d a stranger to your knowledge,— [_Salutes_ CELESTINA.]
_Cel._ Sir, 190
Your worth was here before you, and your person
Cannot be here ungrateful.
_Born._ ’T is the bounty
Of your sweet disposition, madam.—Make me
Your servant, lady, by her fair example,
To favour me. [_Offers to salute_ ISABELLA, _who turns from him_.
_Aside._]—I never knew one turn 195
Her cheek to a gentleman that came to kiss her,
But she ’d a stinking breath.—Your servant, gentlemen.
Will Scentlove, how is ’t?
_Cel._ I am sorry, coz,
To accuse you; we in nothing more betray
Ourselves to censure of ridiculous pride, 200
Than answering a fair salute too rudely.
Oh, it shows ill upon a gentlewoman
Not to return the modest lip, if she
Would have the world believe her breath is not
Offensive.
_Born._ Madam, I have business 205
With you.
_Scent._ His looks are pleasant.
_Cel._ With me, sir?
_Born._ I hear you have an exc’llent wit, madam;
I see you are fair.
_Cel._ The first is but report;
And do not trust your eye-sight for the last,
’Cause I presume y’ are mortal, and may err.
_Hair._ He is very gamesome.
_Born._ Y’ have an exc’llent voice, 211
(They say you catcht it from a dying swan,)
[With] which, join’d to the harmony of your lute,
You ravish all mankind.
_Cel._ Ravish mankind?
_Born._ With their consent.
_Cel._ It were the stranger rape; 215
But there ’s the less indictment lies against it:
And there is hope your little honesties[4276]
Cannot be much the worse, for men do rather
Believe they had a maidenhead, than put
Themselves to th’ rack of memory how long 220
’T is since they left the burden of their innocence.
_Born._ Why, you are bitter, madam!
_Cel._ So is physic;
I do not know your constitution.
_Born._ You shall, if ’t please you, madam.
_Cel._ Y’ are too hasty,
I must examine what certificate 225
You have first, to prefer you.
_Born._ Fine! certificate?
_Cel._ Under your lady’s hand and seal.
_Born._ Go to;
I see you are a wag.
_Cel._ But take heed how
You trust to ’t.
_Born._ I can love you in my wedlock,
As well as that young gallant o’ th’ first hair,
Or the knight-bachelor; and can return 231
As amorous delight to thy soft bosom.
_Cel._ Your person and your language are both strangers.
_Born._ But may be more familiar; I have those
That dare make affidavit for my body. 235
_Cel._ D’ ye mean your surgeon?
_Born._ My surgeon, madam?
I know not how you value my abilities,
But I dare undertake as much, to express
My service to your ladyship, and with
As fierce ambition fly to your commands, 240
As the most valiant of these lay siege to you.
_Cel._ You dare not, sir.
_Born._ How, madam?
_Cel._ I will justify ’t.
You dare not marry me; and I imagine
Some here, should I consent, would fetch a priest
Out of the fire.
_Born._ I have a wife indeed. 245
_Cel._ And there ’s a statute not repeal’d, I take it.
_Born._ Y’ are in the right; I must confess y’ have hit
And bled me in a master vein.
_Cel._ You think
I took you on the advantage; use your best
Skill at defence, I ’ll come up to your valour, 250
And show another work you dare not do:
You dare not, sir, be virtuous.
_Born._ I dare,
By this fair hand I dare; and ask a pardon,
If my rude words offend your innocence,
Which, in a form so beautiful, would shine 255
To force a blush in them suspected it,
And from the rest draw wonder.
_Hair._ I like not
Their secret parley; shall I interrupt them?
_Isab._ By no means, sir.
_Scent._ Sir Thomas was not wont
To show so much a courtier.
_Mar._ He cannot 260
Be prejudicial to you; suspect not
Your own deserts so much; he ’s married.
_Born._ I have other business, madam. You keep music:
I came to try how you can dance.
_Cel._ You did?—[_Aside._] I ’ll try his humour out of breath. 265
Although I boast no cunning, sir, in revels,
If you desire to show your art that way,
I can wait on you.
_Born._ You much honour me;
Nay, all must join to make a harmony. _They dance._
_Born._ I have nothing now, madam, but to beseech, 270
After a pardon for my boldness, you
Would give occasion to pay my gratitude.
I have a house will be much honoured,
If you vouchsafe your presence; and a wife
Desires to present herself your servant. 275
I came with the ambition to invite you,
Deny me not; your person you shall trust
On fair security.
_Cel._ Sir, although I use not
This freedom with a stranger, you shall have
No cause to hold me obstinate.
_Born._ You grace me. 280
Sir William Scentlove—
_Hair._ I must take my leave.
You will excuse me, madam; court attendances—
_Cel._ By any means.
_Born._ Ladies, you will vouchsafe
Your company?
_Isab._ We wait upon you, sir. _Exeunt._
ACT III
[SCENE I.][4277]
_Table and looking-glass. Enter_ LORD —— _unready_.[4278] HAIRCUT
_preparing his periwig_.
_Lord._ What hour is ’t?
_Hair._ ’Bout three o’clock, my lord.
_Lord._ ’T is time to rise.
_Hair._ Your lordship went but late
To bed last night.
_Lord._ ’T was early in the morning.
_Sec._ [_within._] Expect[4279] awhile, my lord is busy.
_Enter_ Secretary.
_Lord._ What ’s the matter?
_Sec._ Here is a lady 5
Desires access to you upon some affairs,
She says, may specially concern your lordship.
_Lord._ A lady? What ’s her name?
_Sec._ Madam Decoy.
_Lord._ Decoy? Prithee admit her. [_Exit_ Secretary.]
_Enter_ DECOY.
Have you business, madam,
With me?
_Dec._ And such, I hope, as will not be 10
Offensive to your lordship.
_Lord._ I pray speak it.
_Dec._ I would desire your lordship’s ear more private.
_Lord._ Wait i’ th’ next chamber till I call.—Now, madam.
_Exit_ [HAIRCUT].
_Dec._ Although I am a stranger to your lordship,
I would not lose a fair occasion offer’d 15
To show how much I honour, and would serve you.
_Lord._ Please you to give me the particular,
That I may know the extent of my engagement.[4280]
I am ignorant by what desert you should
Be encourag’d to have care of me.
_Dec._ My lord, 20
I will take boldness to be plain; beside
Your other excellent parts, you have much fame
For your sweet inclination to our sex.
_Lord._ How d’ ye mean, madam?
_Dec._ I’ that way your lordship
Hath honourably practis’d upon some 25
Not to be nam’d. Your noble constancy
To a mistress hath deserv’d our general vote;
And I, a part of womankind, have thought
How to express my duty.
_Lord._ In what, madam?
_Dec._ Be not so strange, my lord. I knew the beauty 30
And pleasures of your eyes; that handsome creature
With whose fair life all your delight took leave,
And to whose memory you have paid too much
Sad tribute.
_Lord._ What ’s all this?
_Dec._ This: if your lordship
Accept my service, in pure zeal to cure 35
Your melancholy, I could point where you might
Repair your loss.
_Lord._ Your ladyship, I conceive,
Doth traffic in flesh merchandize.
_Dec._ To men
Of honour, like yourself. I am well known 39
To some in court, and come not with ambition
Now to supplant your officer.
_Lord._ What is
The lady of pleasure you prefer?
_Dec._ A lady
Of birth and fortune, one upon whose virtue
I may presume, the lady Aretina.
_Lord._ Wife to Sir Thomas Bornwell?
_Dec._ The same, sir. 45
_Lord._ Have you prepar’d her?
_Dec._ Not for your lordship, till I have found your pulse.
I am acquainted with her disposition,
She has a very appliable[4281] nature.
_Lord._ And, madam, when expect you to be whipt 50
For doing these fine favours?
_Dec._ How, my lord?
Your lordship does but jest, I hope; you make
A difference between a lady that
Does honourable offices, and one 54
They call a bawd. Your lordship was not wont
To have such coarse opinion of our practice.
_Lord._ The Lady Aretina is my kinswoman.
_Dec._ What if she be, my lord? The nearer blood,
The dearer sympathy.
_Lord._ I ’ll have thee carted.[4282]
_Dec._ Your lordship will not so much stain your honour 60
And education, to use a woman
Of my quality—
_Lord._ ’T is possible you may
Be sent off with an honourable convoy
Of halberdiers.
_Dec._ Oh, my good lord! 64
_Lord._ Your ladyship shall be no protection,
If you but stay three minutes.
_Dec._ I am gone.—
When next you find rebellion in your blood,
May all within ten mile o’ th’ court turn honest![4283] _Exit._
_Lord._ I do not find that proneness, since the fair
Bella Maria died; my blood is cold, 70
Nor is there beauty enough surviving
To heighten me to wantonness.—Who waits?
_Re-enter_ HAIRCUT [_and_ Secretary].
And what said my lady?
_Hair._ The silent language of her face, my lord,
Was not so pleasant, as it show’d upon 75
Her entrance.
_Lord._ Would any man that meets
This lady take her for a bawd?
_Hair._ She does
The trade an honour, credit to the profession.
We may in time see baldness, quarter noses, 79
And rotten legs to take the wall of footcloths.
_Lord._ I ha’ thought better; call the lady back.—
I wo’ not lose this opportunity.—
Bid her not fear. [_Exit_ Secretary.]—The favour is not common,
And I ’ll reward it. I do wonder much
Will Scentlove was not here to-day. 85
_Hair._ I heard him say this morning he would wait
Upon your lordship.—She is return’d, sir.
_Re-enter_ Secretary _and_ DECOY.
_Sec._ Madam, be confident, my lord ’s not angry.
_Lord._ You return welcome, madam; you are better
Read in your art, I hope, than to be frighted 90
With any shape of anger, when you bring
Such news to gentlemen. Madam, you shall
Soon understand how I accept the office.
_Dec._ You are the first lord, since I studied carriage,
That show’d such infidelity and fury 95
Upon so kind a message. Every gentleman
Will show some breeding; but if one right honourable
Should not have noble blood—
_Lord._ You shall return
My compliment, in a letter, to my lady 99
Aretina. Favour me with a little patience.—
Show her that chamber.
_Dec._ I ’ll attend your lordship.
_Exeunt_ [DECOY _and_ HAIRCUT.—Secretary _seats himself at a table_].
_Lord._ Write,—“Madam, where your honour
is in danger, my love must not be silent.”
_Enter_ [Sir WILLIAM] SCENTLOVE _and_ KICKSHAW.
Scentlove and Kickshaw!
_Kick._ Your lordship’s busy. 104
_Lord._ Writing a letter;—nay, it sh’ not bar
Any discourse.
[_Walks alternately to the_ Secretary _and to_ SCENTLOVE _and_ KICKSHAW.]
_Sec._ “Silent.”
_Lord._ “Though I be no physician, I may prevent a fever in your
blood.”
And where have you spent the morning’s conversation? 110
_Scent._ Where you would have given the best barbary
In your stable to have met on honourable terms.
_Lord._ What new beauty? You acquaint yourselves
With none but wonders.
_Scent._ ’T is too low,—a miracle.
_Lord._ It will require a strong faith. 115
_Sec._ “Your blood.”
_Lord._ “If you be innocent, preserve your
fame, lest this Decoy-madam betray it, to your
repentance”—
By what name is she known?
_Scent._ Ask Alexander; 120
He knows her.
_Kick._ Whom?
_Scent._ The lady Celestina.
_Lord._ He has a vast knowledge of ladies. ’Las, poor Alexander!
When dost thou mean thy body shall lie fallow?
_Kick._ When there is mercy in a petticoat:
I must turn pilgrim for some breath.
_Lord._ I think
’T were cooler travel, if you examine it, 126
Upon the hoof through Spain.
_Scent._ Through Ethiopia.
_Lord._ Nay, less laborious to serve a prenticeship
In Peru, and dig gold out of the mine,
Though all the year were dog-days. 130
_Sec._ “To repentance.”
_Lord._ “In brief, this lady, could you fall
from virtue, within my knowledge, will not
blush to be a bawd.”
_Scent._ But hang ’t, ’t is honourable journey-work; 135
Thou art famous by it, and thy name ’s up.
_Kick._ So, sir!
Let me ask you a question, my dear knight:
Which is less servile, to bring up the pheasant,
And wait, or sit at table uncontroll’d, 140
And carve to my own appetite?
_Scent._ No more;
Thou ’rt witty, as I am.
_Sec._ “A bawd.”
_Scent._ How ’s that?
_Kick._ Oh, you are famous by ’t, and your name ’s up, sir.
_Lord._ “Be wise, and reward my caution
with timely care of yourself, so I shall not 145
repent to be known your loving kinsman and
servant”—
Gentlemen, the lady Celestina,
Is she so rare a thing?
_Kick._ If you ’ll have my
Opinion, my lord, I never saw 150
So sweet, so fair, so rich a piece of nature.
_Lord._ I ’ll show thee a fairer presently, to shame
Thy eyes and judgment; look o’ that. [_Gives him a miniature._]—So;
I ’ll subscribe. [_Signs his name to the letter._]
Seal it; I ’ll excuse your pen for the direction.
_Kick._ Bella Maria’s picture! she was handsome. 155
_Scent._ But not to be compar’d—
_Lord._ Your patience, gentlemen; I ’ll return instantly. _Exit._
_Kick._ Whither is my lord gone?
_Sec._ To a lady i’ th’ next chamber.
_Scent._ What is she?
_Sec._ You shall pardon me, I am his secretary. 160
_Scent._ I was wont to be of his counsel. A new officer.
And I not know ’t? I am resolv’d to batter
All other with the praise of Celestina:
I must retain him.
_Re-enter_ Lord.
_Lord._ Has not that object
Convinc’d your erring judgments?
_Kick._ What! this picture? 165
_Lord._ Were but your thoughts as capable as mine
Of her idea, you would wish no thought
That were not active in her praise, above
All worth and memory of her sex.
_Scent._ She was fair,
I must confess; but had your lordship look’d 170
With eyes more narrow, and some less affection.
Upon her face,—
_Kick._ I do not love the copies
Of any dead, they make me dream of goblins;
Give me a living mistress, with but half
The beauty of Celestina. Come, my lord, 175
’T is pity that a lord of so much flesh
Should waste upon a ghost, when they are living
Can give you a more honourable consumption.
_Scent._ Why, do you mean, my lord, to live an infidel?
Do, and see what will come on ’t; observe[4284] still, 180
And dote upon your vigils; build a chamber
Within a rock, a tomb among the worms,
Not far off, where you may, in proof apocryphal,
Court ’em not to devour the pretty pile
Of flesh your mistress carried to the grave. 185
There are no women in the world; all eyes,
And tongues, and lips, are buried in her coffin!
_Lord._ Why, do you think yourselves competent judges
Of beauty, gentlemen?
_Both._ What should hinder us? 189
_Kick._ I have seen and tried as many as another,
With a mortal back.
_Lord._ Your eyes are brib’d,
And your hearts chain’d to some desires; you cannot
Enjoy the freedom of a sense.
_Kick._ Your lordship
Has a clear eyesight, and can judge and penetrate.
_Lord._ I can, and give a perfect censure of 195
Each line and point; distinguish beauty from
A thousand forms, which your corrupted optics
Would pass for natural.
_Scent._ I desire no other
Judge should determine us, and if your lordship
Dare venture but your eyes upon this lady, 200
I ’ll stand their justice, and be confident
You shall give Celestina victory
And triumph o’er all beauties past and living.
_Kick._ I dare, my lord, venture a suit of clothes,
You ’ll be o’ercome.
_Lord._ You do not know my fortitude. 205
_Scent._ Nor frailty; you dare not trust yourself to see her.
_Lord._ Think you so, gentlemen? I dare see this creature
To make you know your errors, and the difference
Of her whose memory is my saint. Not trust
My senses! I dare see, and speak with her. 210
Which holds the best acquaintance to prepare
My visit to her?
_Sent._ I will do ’t, my lord.
_Kick._ She is a lady free in entertainments.
_Lord._ I would give this advantage to your cause,
Bid her appear in all the ornaments 215
Did ever wait on beauty, all the riches
Pride can put on, and teach her face more charm
Than ever poet drest up Venus in;
Bid her be all the Graces, and the Queen
Of Love in one, I ’ll see her, Scentlove, and 220
Bring off my heart, arm’d but [with a] single thought
Of one that ’s dead, without a wound; and when
I have made your folly prisoner, I ’ll laugh at you.
_Scent._ She shall expect you; trust to me for knowledge.
_Lord._ I ’m for the present somewhere else engag’d; 225
Let me hear from you. [_Exit._]
_Scent._ So! I am glad he ’s yet
So near conversion.
_Kick._ I am for Aretina.
_Scent._ No mention of my lord.
_Kick._ Prepare his lady,
’T is time he were reduc’d[4285] to the old sport; 229
One lord like him more would undo the court. _Exeunt._
[SCENE II.][4286]
_Enter_ LADY BORNWELL, _with a letter_, _and_ DECOY.
_Dec._ He is the ornament of your blood, madam;
I am much bound to his lordship.
_Lady B._ He gives you
A noble character.
_Dec._ ’T is his goodness, madam.
_Lady B._ [_Aside._] I wanted such an engine. My lord has
Done me a courtesy, to disclose her nature; 5
I now know one to trust, and will employ her.—
Touching my lord, for reasons which I shall
Offer to your ladyship hereafter, I
Desire you would be silent; but, to show 9
How much I dare be confident in your secrecy,
I pour my bosom forth. I love a gentleman,
One whom there wo’ not need much conjuration
To meet.—Your ear. [_Whispers her._]
_Dec._ I apprehend you, and I shall
Be happy to be serviceable. I am sorry
Your ladyship did not know me before now: 15
I have done offices: and not a few
Of the nobility but have done feats
Within my house, which is convenient
For situation, and artful chambers.
And pretty pictures to provoke the fancy. 20
_Enter_ LITTLEWORTH.
_Little._ Madam, all pleasures languish in your absence.
_Lady B._ Your pardon a few minutes, sir.— You must
Contrive it thus. [_Walks aside with_ DECOY.]
_Little._ I attend, and shall account it
Honour to wait on your return.
_Lady B._ He may not
Have the least knowledge of my name or person. 25
_Dec._ I have practis’d that already for some great ones,
And dare again, to satisfy you, madam;
I have a thousand ways to do sweet offices.
_Little._ If this Lady Aretina should be honest,
I ha’ lost time. She ’s free as air; I must 30
Have closer conference, and if I have art,
Make her affect me in revenge.
_Dec._ This evening?
Leave me to manage things.
_Lady B._ You will oblige me.
_Dec._ You shall commend my art, and thank me after. _Exit._
_Lady B._ I hope the revels are maintain’d within? 35
_Little._ By Sir Thomas and his mistress.
_Lady B._ How? His mistress?
_Little._ The lady Celestina; I ne’er saw
Eyes shoot more amorous interchange.
_Lady B._ Is ’t so?
_Little._ He wears her favour with mere[4287] pride—
_Lady B._ Her favour?
_Little._ A feather that he ravish’d from her fan; 40
And is so full of courtship, which she smiles on.
_Lady B._ ’T is well.
_Little._ And praises her beyond all poetry.
_Lady B._ I ’m glad he has so much wit.
_Little._ [_Aside._] Not jealous!
_Lady B._ [_Aside._] This secures me. What would make other ladies
pale
With jealousy, gives but license to my wand’rings. 45
Let him now tax[4288] me, if he dare; and yet
Her beauty ’s worth my envy, and I wish
Revenge upon it, not because he loves,
But that it shines above my own.
_Enter_ KICKSHAW.
_Kick._ Dear madam!
_Lady B._ I have it.—You two gentlemen profess 50
Much service to me; if I have a way
To employ your wit and secrecy?—
_Both._ You ’ll honour us.
_Lady B._ You gave a high and worthy character
Of Celestina.
_Kick._ I remember, madam.
_Lady B._ Do either of you love her?
_Kick._ Not I, madam. 55
_Little._ I would not, if I might.
_Lady B._ She ’s now my guest,
And, by a trick, invited by my husband,
To disgrace me.—You, gentlemen, are held
Wits of the town, the consuls that do govern
The senate here, whose jeers are all authentic.
The taverns and the ordinaries are 61
Made academies, where you come, and all
Your sins and surfeits made the time’s example.
Your very nods can quell a theatre,
No speech or poem good without your seal; 65
You can protect sourrility, and publish;
By your authority believ’d, no rapture
Ought to have honest meaning.
_Kick._ Leave our characters.
_Little._ And name the employment.
_Lady B._ You must exercise
The strength of both your wits upon this lady,
And talk her into humbleness or anger, 71
Both which are equal, to my thought. If you
Dare undertake this slight thing for my sake,
My favour shall reward it; but be faithful,
And seem to let all spring from your own freedom. 75
_Kick._ This all! We can defame her; if you please,
My friend shall call her whore, or any thing.
And never be endanger’d to a duel.
_Lady B._ How ’s that?
_Kick._ He can endure a cudgelling, and no man 80
Will fight after so fair a satisfaction:
But leave us to our art, and do not limit us.
_Lady B._ They are here; begin not till I whisper you.
_Enter_ SIR THOMAS BORNWELL, CELESTINA, MARIANA, _and_ ISABELLA.
Lady B. _Je vous prie, madame, d’excuser l’importunité de mes
affaires, qui m’ont fait (85) offenser, par mon absence, une dame de
laquelle j’ai reçu tant d’obligations._
Cel. _Pardonnez moi, madame; vous me faites trop d’honneur._ 89
Lady B. _C’est bien de la douceur de votre naturel, que vous tenez
cette langage; mais j’espère que mon mari n’a pas manqué de vous
entretenir en mon absence._
Cel. _En vérité, monsieur nous a fort obligé._ 94
Lady B. _Il eût trop failli, s’il n’eut taché de tout son pouvoir à
vous rendre toutes sortes de services._
Cel. _C’est de sa bonté qu’il nous a tant favorise._
Lady B. _De la vôtre plutôt, madame, que vous fait donner
d’interprétation si bénigne à ses efforts._ 101
Cel. _Je vois bien que la victoire sera toujours à madame, et de
langage et de la courtesie._
Lady B. _Vraiment, madame, que jamais personne a plus désiré
l’honneur de votre compagnie que moi._ 106
Cel. _Laissons-en, je vous supplie, des complimens, et permettez à
votre servante de vous baiser les mains._
Lady B. _Vous m’obligez trop._ 110
_Born._ I have no more patience; let ’s be merry again
In our own language: madam, our mirth cools.
Our nephew!
_Enter_ FREDERICK [_intoxicated_, _and_ Steward].
_Lady B._ Passion of my brain! 114
_Fred._ Save you, gentlemen! save you, ladies!
_Lady B._ I am undone.
_Fred._ I must salute; no matter at which end I begin. [_Salutes_
CELESTINA.]
_Lady B._ There’s a compliment!
_Cel._ Is this your nephew, madam? 120
Lady B. _Je vous prie, madame, d’excuser les habits et le rude
comportement de mon cousin. Il est tout fraîchement venu de
l’université, où on l’a tout gâté._
Cel. _Excusez moi, madame, il est bien accompli._ 126
_Fred._ This language should be French by the motions of your heads,
and the mirth of your faces.
_Lady B._ I am dishonour’d. 130
_Fred._ ’T is one of the finest tongues for ladies to show their
teeth in: if you ’ll Latin it, I am for you, or Greek it; my tailor
has not put me into French yet. _Mille basia, basia mille._
Cel. _Je ne vous entends pas, monsieur;_ 135
I understand you not, sir.
_Fred._ Why, so!
You and I then shall be in charity;
For though we should be abusive, we ha’ the benefit
Not to understand one another. Where ’s my aunt? 140
I did hear music somewhere; and my brains,
Tun’d with a bottle of your capering claret,
Made haste to show their dancing.
_Little._ Please you, madam,
[_Offering his box of sweetmeats to_ CELESTINA.]
They are very uncomfortable.[4289]
_Stew._ Alas, madam,
How would you have me help it? I did use 145
All means I could, after he heard the music,
To make him drunk, in hope so to contain him;
But the wine made him lighter, and his head
Flew hither, ere I mist his heels.
_Kick._ Nay, he spoke Latin to the lady. 150
_Lady B._ O most unpardonable! Get him off
Quickly, and discreetly too; or, if I live——
_Stew._ It is not in my power; he swears I am
An absurd sober fellow; and if you keep
A servant in his house to cross his humour, 155
When the rich sword and belt comes home, he ’ll kill him.
_Lady B._ What shall I do? Try your skill, Master Littleworth.
_Little._ He has ne’er a sword.—Sweet master Frederick—
_Born._ ’Tis pity, madam, such a scion should
Be lost;—but you are clouded.
_Cel._ Not I, sir, 160
I never found myself more clear at heart.
_Born._ I could play with a feather; your fan, lady.—
Gentlemen, Aretina, ta, ra, ra, ra! Come, madam.
_Fred._ Why, my good tutor in election,
You might have been a scholar.
_Little._ But I thank 165
My friends, they brought me up a little better.
Give me the town wits, that deliver jests
Clean from the bow, that whistle in the air,
And cleave the pin at twelvescore! Ladies do
But laugh at a gentleman that has any learning; 170
’T is sin enough to have your clothes suspected.
Leave us, and I will find a time to instruct you.
Come, here are sugar plums; ’t is a good Frederick.
_Fred._ Why, is not this my aunt’s house in the Strand?
The noble rendezvous? Who laughs at me? 175
Go, I will root here if I list, and talk
Of rhetoric, logic, Latin, Greek, or any thing,
And understand ’em too; who says the contrary?
Yet, in a fair way, I contemn all learning,
And will be as ignorant as he, or he, 180
Or any taffeta, satin, scarlet, plush.
Tissue, or cloth o’ bodkin[4290] gentleman.
Whose manners are most gloriously infected.——
Did you laugh at me, lady?
_Cel._ Not I, sir;
But if I did show mirth upon your question, 185
I hope you would not beat me, little gentleman?
_Fred._ How! “little gentleman?” You dare not say
These words to my new clothes, and fighting sword.
_Lady B._ Nephew Frederick!
_Fred._ “Little gentleman!”
’T is an affront both to my blood and person, 190
I am a gentleman of as tall a birth
As any boast[4291] nobility; though my clothes
Smell o’ the lamp, my coat is honourable,
Right honourable, full of or and argent.-—-
A “little gentleman!”
_Born._ Coz, you must be patient; 195
My lady meant you no dishonour, and
You must remember she ’s a woman.
_Fred._ Is she a woman? That ’s another matter.—
Do you hear? My uncle tells me what you are.
_Cel._ So, sir. 200
_Fred._ You call’d me “little gentleman.”
_Cel._ I did, sir.
_Fred._ A little pink[4292] has made a lusty ship
Strike her top-sail; the crow may beard the elephant,
A whelp may tame the tiger, spite of all 205
False decks and murderers;[4293] and a “little gentleman”
Be hard enough to grapple with your ladyship,
Top and top-gallant.—Will you go drink, uncle,
T’ other enchanted bottle? You and I
Will tipple, and talk philosophy.
_Born._ Come, nephew.— 210
You will excuse a minute’s absence, madam.—
Wait you on us.
_Stew._ My duty, sir.
_Exeunt_ SIR THOMAS BORNWELL, FREDERICK, _and_ Steward.
_Lady B._ Now, gentlemen.
_Kick._ Madam, I had rather you excuse my language
For speaking truth, than virtue suffer in
My further silence; and it is my wonder 215
That you, whose noble carriage hath deserv’d
All honour and opinion, should now
Be guilty of ill manners.
_Cel._ What was that
You told me, sir?
_Little._ Do you not blush, madam,
To ask that question?
_Cel._ You amaze rather 220
My cheek to paleness. What mean you by this?
I am not troubled with the hiccup, gentlemen,
You should bestow this fright upon me.
_Little._ Then
Pride and ill memory go together.
_Cel._ How, sir?
_Kick._ The gentleman on whom you exercis’d
Your thin wit, was a nephew to the lady 226
Whose guest you are; and though her modesty
Look calm on the abuse of one so near
Her blood, the affront was impious.
_Little._ I am asham’d on t.
You an ingenious lady, and well manner’d! 230
I ’ll teach a bear as much civility.
_Cel._ You may be master of the college, sir,
For aught I know.
_Little._ What college?
[_Cel._][4294] Of the bears.
Have you a plot upon me? Do you possess
Your wits, or know me, gentlemen?
_Re-enter_ SIR THOMAS BORNWELL, [_behind_].
_Born._ How ’s this? 235
_Kick._ Know you? Yes; we do know you to an atom.
_Little._ Madam, we know what stuff your soul is made on.
_Cel._ But do not bark so like a mastiff, pray.——
Sure they are mad.—Let your brains stand awhile,
And settle, gentlemen; you know not me; 240
What am I?
_Little._ Th’ art a puppet, a thing made
Of clothes and painting, and not half so handsome
As that which play’d Susanna in the fair.
_Cel._ I heard you visited those canvas tragedies, 244
One of their constant audience, and so taken
With Susan, that you wish’d yourself a rival
With the two wicked elders.
_Kick._ You think this
Is wit now. Come, you are—
_Cel._ What, I beseech you?
Your character will be full of salt and satire,
No doubt. What am I?
_Kick._ Why, you are a woman— 250
_Cel._ And that ’s at least a bow wide of your knowledge.
_Kick._ Would be thought handsome, and might pass i’ th’ country
Upon a market day; but so miserably
Forfeit to pride and fashions, that if Heaven
Were a new gown, you’d not stay in ’t a fortnight. 255
_Cel._ It must be miserably out of fashion then.
Have I no sin but pride?
_Kick._ Hast any virtue,
Or but a good face, to excuse that want?
_Cel._ You prais’d it yesterday.
_Kick._ That made you proud.
_Cel._ More pride!
_Kick._ You need not:—to close up the praise, 260
I have seen a better countenance in a sybil.
_Cel._ When you wore spectacles of sack,[4295] mistook
The painted cloth,[4296] and kist it for your mistress.
_Kick._ Let me ask you a question; how much
Have you consum’d in expectation 265
That I would love you?
_Cel._ Why, I think as much
As you have paid away in honest debts
This seven year. ’T is a pretty impudence,
But cannot make me angry.
_Little._ Is there any
Man that will cast away his limbs upon her? 270
_Kick._ You do not sing so well as I imagin’d,
Nor dance; you reel in your coranto,[4297] and pinch
Your petticoat too hard: y’ have no good ear
To th’ music, and incline too much one shoulder,
As you were dancing on the rope, and falling. 275
You speak abominable French, and make
A curtsey like a dairy-maid.—[_Aside._] Not mad!
_Little._ Do we not sting her handsomely?
_Born._ A conspiracy!
_Kick._ Your state is not so much as ’t is reported,
When you confer notes, all your husband’s debts, 280
And your own reconcil’d; but that ’s not it
Will so much spoil your marriage.
_Cel._ As what, sir?
Let me know all my faults.
_Kick._ Some men do whisper
You are not over honest.[4298]
_Cel._ All this shall not
Move me to more than laughter, and some pity, 285
Because you have the shapes of gentlemen;
And though you have been insolent upon me,
I will engage no friend to kick or cudgel you,
To spoil your living and your limbs together:
I leave that to diseases that offend you, 290
And spare my curse, poor silken vermin! and
Hereafter shall distinguish men from monkeys.
_Born._ [_coming forward._] Brave soul!—You brace of
horse-leeches!—I have heard
Their barbarous language, madam; y’ are too merciful:
They shall be silent to your tongue; pray punish ’em. 295
_Cel._ They are things not worth my character,[4299] nor mention
Of any clean breath; so lost in honesty,
They cannot satisfy for wrongs enough,
Though they should steal out of the world at Tyburn.[4300]
_Little._ We are hang’d already. 300
_Cel._ Yet I will talk a little to the pilchards.—[4301]
You two, that have not ’twixt you both the hundred
Part of a soul, coarse woollen-witted fellows,
Without a nap, with bodies made for burdens!
You, that are only stuffings for apparel, 305
As you were made but engines[4302] for your tailors
To frame their clothes upon, and get them custom,
Until men see you move; yet, then you dare not,
Out of your guilt[4303] of being the ignobler beast,
But give a horse the wall, whom you excel 310
Only in dancing of the brawls,[4304] because
The horse was not taught the French way. Your two faces,
One fat, like Christmas, t’ other lean, like Candlemas,
And prologue to a Lent, both bound together,
Would figure Janus, and do many cures 315
On agues, and the green disease,[4305] by frighting;
But neither can, with all the characters
And conjuring circles, charm a woman, though
She ’d fourscore years upon her, and but one
Tooth in her head, to love, or think well of you: 320
And I were miserable to be at cost
To court such a complexion as your malice
Did impudently insinuate. But I waste time,
And stain my breath in talking to such tadpoles.
Go home, and wash your tongues in barley-water, 325
Drink[4306] clean tobacco, be not hot i’ th’ mouth,
And you may scape the beadle; so I leave you
To shame, and your own garters!—Sir, I must
Entreat you, for my honour, do not penance them,
They are not worth your anger. How shall I 330
Acquit your lady’s silence?
_Born._ Madam, I
Am sorry to suspect, and dare revenge.
_Cel._ No cause of mine.
_Born._ It must become me to attend you home.
_Cel._ You are noble.—Farewell, mushrooms.
[_Exit with_ SIR THOMAS BORNWELL.]
_Lady B._ Is she gone? 335
_Little._ I think we pepper’d her.
_Kick._ I ’m glad ’t is over;
But I repent no service for you, madam.—
_Enter_ Servant, _with a letter_ [_and a jewel, which he delivers to_
KICKSHAW].
To me? From whence?—A jewel! a good preface.
Be happy the conclusion. _He smiles upon ’t._
_Lady B._ Some love letter.
_Little._ He has a hundred mistresses: you may 340
Be charitable, madam, I ha’ none;
He surfeits, and I fall away i’ th’ kidneys.
_Kick._ I ’ll meet.— [_Exit_ Servant.]
[_Aside._] ’T is some great lady, questionless, that has
Taken notice, and would satisfy her appetite.
_Lady B._ Now, Master Alexander, you look bright o’ the sudden; 346
Another spirit ’s in your eye.
_Kick._ Not mine, madam;
Only a summons to meet a friend.
_Lady B._ What friend?
_Little._ By this jewel, I know her not.
_Lady B._ ’T is a she-friend. I ’ll follow, gentlemen; 350
We may have a game at cent[4307] before you go.
_Kick._ I shall attend you, madam.
_Little._ ’T is our duty.
[_Exeunt_ KICKSHAW _and_ LITTLEWORTH.]
_Lady B._ I blush while I converse with my own thoughts.
Some strange fate governs me, but I must on;
The ways are cast already, and we thrive 355
When our sin fears no eye nor perspective. _Exit._
ACT IV
[SCENE I.][4308]
_Enter two men leading_ KICKSHAW _blinded, and go off suddenly_.
_Kick._ I am not hurt; my patience to obey ’em,
Not without fear to ha’ my throat cut else,
Did me a courtesy. Whither ha’ they brought me?
[_Pulls off a bandage._]
’T is devilish dark; the bottom of a well
At midnight, with but two stars on the top, 5
Were broad day to this darkness. I but think
How like a whirlwind these rogues caught me up,
And smothered my eyesight. Let me see,
These may be spirits, and, for aught I know,
Have brought me hither over twenty steeples. 10
Pray Heaven they were not bailiffs! that ’s more worth
My fear, and this a prison. All my debts
Reek in my nostril, and my bones begin
To ache with fear to be made dice; and yet
This is too calm and quiet for a prison.— 15
What if the riddle prove I am robb’d? And yet
I did not feel ’em search me. How now! music! [_Music within._]
_Enter_ DECOY, _like an old_ Woman, _with a light_.
And a light! What beldam ’s this? I cannot pray.—
What art?
_Dec._ A friend. Fear not, young man, I am
No spirit.
_Kick._ Off!
_Dec._ Despise me not for age, 20
Or this coarse outside, which I wear not out
Of poverty. Thy eyes be witness, ’t is
No cave, or beggar’s cell, th’ art brought to; let
That gold speak here ’s no want, which thou mayst spend,
And find a spring to tire even prodigality, 25
If thou be’st wise. [_Gives him a purse._]
_Kick._ The devil was a coiner
From the beginning; yet the gold looks current.
_Dec._ Th’ art still in wonder: know, I am mistress of
This house, and of a fortune that shall serve
And feed thee with delights; ’t was I sent for thee; 30
The jewel and the letter came from me.
It was my art thus to contrive our meeting,
Because I would not trust thee with my fame,
Until I found thee worth a woman’s honour.
_Kick_ [_Aside._] Honour and fame! the devil means to have 35
A care on ’s credit. Though she sent for me,
I hope she has another customer
To do the trick withal; I would not turn
Familiar to a witch.
_Dec._ What say’st? Canst thou
Dwell in my arms to-night? Shall we change kisses, 40
And entertain the silent hours with pleasure,
Such as old Time shall be delighted with,
And blame the too swift motion of his wings,
While we embrace?
_Kick._ [_Aside._] Embrace! She has had no teeth
This twenty years, and the next violent cough 45
Brings up her tongue; it cannot possibly
Be sound at root. I do not think but one
Strong sneeze upon her, and well meant, would make
Her quarters fall away; one kick would blow 49
Her up like gunpowder, and loose all her limbs.
She is so cold, an incubus would not heat her;
Her phlegm would quench a furnace, and her breath
Would damp a musket bullet.
_Dec._ Have you, sir,
Consider’d?
_Kick._ What?
_Dec._ My proposition. 54
Canst love?
_Kick._ I could have done; whom do you mean?
I know you are pleas’d but to make sport.
_Dec._ Thou art not
So dull of soul as thou appear’st.
_Kick._ [_Aside._] This is
But some device; my grannam has some trick in ’t.—
Yes, I can love.
_Dec._ But canst thou affect me?
_Kick._ Although to reverence so grave a matron 60
Were an ambitious word in me, yet since
You give me boldness, I do love you.
_Dec._ Then
Thou art my own.
_Kick._ [_Aside._] Has she no cloven foot?
_Dec._ And I am thine, and all that I command
Thy servants; from this minute thou art happy,
And fate in thee will crown all my desires. 66
I griev’d a proper man should be compell’d
To bring his body to the common market.
My wealth shall make thee glorious; and, the more
To encourage thee, howe’er this form may fright 70
Thy youthful eyes, yet thou wo’t find, by light
Of thy own sense, for other light is banish’d
My chamber, when our arms tie lovers’ knots,
And kisses seal the welcome of our lips,
I shall not there affright thee, nor seem old, 75
With rivell’d[4309] veins; my skin is smooth and soft
As ermines, with a spirit to meet thine,
Active, and equal to the Queen of Love’s
When she did court Adonis.
_Kick._ [_Aside._] This doth more
Confirm she is a devil, and I am 80
Within his own dominions. I must on,
Or else be torn, a’ pieces. I have heard
These succubae must not be crost.
_Dec._ We trifle
Too precious time away; I’ll show you a prospect
Of the next chamber, and then out the candle. 85
_Kick._ Have you no sack i’ th’ house? I would go arm’d
Upon this breach.
_Dec._ It sh’ not need.
_Kick._ One word.
Mother; have not you been a cat in your days?
_Dec._ I am glad you are so merry, sir. You observe
That bed? [_Opens a door._]
_Kick._ A very brave one.
_Dec._ When you are 90
Disrob’d, you can come thither in the dark.
You sha’ not stay for me? Come, as you wish
For happiness. _Exit._
_Kick._ I am preferr’d, if I
Be modest and obey: she cannot have 94
The heart to do me harm, an she were Hecate
Herself. I will have a strong faith, and think
I march upon a mistress, the less evil.
If I scape fire now, I defy the devil. _Exit._
[SCENE II.][4310]
_Enter_ FREDERICK [_gaily dressed_,] LITTLEWORTH, _and_ Steward.
_Fred._ And how d’ye like me now?
_Stew._ Most excellent.
_Fred._ Your opinion, Master Littleworth.
_Little._ Your French tailor
Has made you a perfect gentleman; I may
Converse now with you, and preserve my credit.
D’ye find no alteration in your body 5
With these new clothes?
_Fred._ My body alter’d? No.
_Little._ You are not yet in fashion then. That must
Have a new motion, garb, and posture too,
Or all your pride is cast away; it is not
The cut of your apparel makes a gallant, 10
But the geometrical wearing of your clothes.
_Stew._ Master Littleworth tells you right; you wear your hat
Too like a citizen.
_Little._ ’T is like a midwife;
Place it with best advantage of your hair. 14
Is half your feather moulted? This does make
No show; it should spread over, like a canopy;
Your hot-rein’d monsieur wears it for a shade
And cooler to his back. Your doublet must
Be more unbutton’d hereabouts; you’ll not
Be a sloven else, a foul shirt is no blemish; 20
You must be confident, and outface clean linen.
Your doublet and your breeches must be allow’d
No private meeting here: your cloak’s too long.
It reaches to your buttock, and doth smell
Too much of Spanish gravity; the fashion 25
Is to wear nothing but a cape; a coat
May be allow’d a covering for one elbow,
And some, to avoid the trouble, choose to walk
In _querpo_,[4311] thus.
_Stew._ [_Aside._] Your coat and cloak’s a brushing
In Long-Lane, Lombard.[4312]
_Fred._ But what if it rain? 30
_Little._ Your belt about your shoulder is sufficient
To keep off any storm; beside, a reed
But wav’d discreetly, has so many pores,
It sucks up all the rain that falls about one. 34
With this defence, when other men have been
Wet to the skin through all their cloaks, I have
Defied a tempest, and walk’d by the taverns
Dry as a bone.
_Stew._ [_Aside._] Because he had no money
To call for wine.
_Fred._ Why, do you walk enchanted?
Have you such pretty charms in town? But stay; 40
Who must I have to attend me?
_Little._ Is not that
Yet thought upon?
_Stew._ I have laid out[4313] for servants.
_Little._ They are everywhere.
_Stew._ I cannot yet be furnish’d
With such as I would put into his hands.
_Fred._ Of what condition must they be, and how 45
Many in number, sir?
_Little._ Beside your fencing,
Your singing, dancing, riding, and French master,
Two may serve domestic, to be constant waiters
Upon a gentleman; a fool, a pimp.
_Stew._ For these two officers I have enquir’d,
And I am promis’d a convenient whiskin.[4314] 51
I could save charges, and employ the pie-wench.
That carries her intelligence in whitepots;[4315]
Or ’t is but taking order[4316] with the woman
That [trolls][4317] the ballads, she could fit him with 55
A concubine to any tune; but I
Have a design to place a fellow with him
That has read all Sir Pandarus’ works; a Trojan[4318]
That lies conceal’d, and is acquainted with
Both city and suburban fripperies,[4319] 60
Can fetch ’em with a spell at midnight to him,
And warrant which are for his turn; can, for
A need, supply the surgeon too.
_Fred._ I like thy providence;[4320] such a one deserves
A livery twice a year. 65
_Stew._ It sha’ not need; a cast suit of your worship’s
Will serve; he’ll find a cloak to cover it,
Out of his share with those he brings to bed to you.
_Fred._ But must I call this fellow pimp?
_Little._ It is
Not necessary; [Tom,] or Jack, or Harry, 70
Or what he ’s known abroad by, will sound better,
That men may think he is a Christian.
_Fred._ But hear you, Master Littleworth: is there not
A method and degrees of title in
Men of this art?
_Little._ According to the honour 75
Of men that do employ ’em. An emperor
May give this office to a duke; a king
May have his viceroy to negociate for him;
A duke may use a lord; the lord a knight,
A knight may trust a gentleman; and when 80
They are abroad, and merry, gentlemen
May pimp to one another.
_Fred._ Good, good fellowship!
But for the fool now, that should wait on me,
And break me jests?
_Little._ A fool is necessary.
_Stew._ By any[4321] means.
_Fred._ But which of these two servants 85
Must now take place?[4322]
_Little._ That question, Master Frederick,
The school of heraldry should conclude upon:
But if my judgment may be heard, the fool
Is your first man; and it is known a point
Of state to have a fool.
_Stew._ But, sir, the other 90
Is held the finer servant; his employments
Are full of trust, his person clean and nimble,
And none so soon can leap into preferment,
Where fools are poor.
_Little._ Not all; there’s story for’t;
Princes have been no wiser than they should be.
Would any nobleman, that were no fool, 95
Spend all in hope of the philosopher’s stone,
To buy new lordships in another country?
Would knights build colleges, or gentlemen
Of good estates challenge the field, and fight, 100
Because a whore wo’ not be honest? Come,
Fools are a family over all the world;
We do affect one naturally; indeed
The fool is leiger[4323] with us.
_Stew._ Then the pimp
Is extraordinary.
_Fred._ Do not you fall out 105
About their places.—Here’s my noble aunt!
_Enter_ LADY BORNWELL.
_Little._ How do you like your nephew, madam, now?
_Lady B._ Well!—Turn about, Frederick.—
Very well!
_Fred._ Am I not now a proper gentleman?
The virtue of rich clothes! Now could I take
The wall of Julius Caesar, or affront 111
Great Pompey’s upper lip, and defy the senate.
Nay, I can be as proud as your own heart, madam,
You may take that for your comfort; I put on
That virtue with my clothes, and I doubt not
But in a little time I shall be impudent 116
As any page, or player’s boy. I am
Beholding to this gentleman’s good discipline;
But I shall do him credit in my practice.
Your steward has some pretty notions, too, 120
In moral mischief.
_Lady B._ Your desert in this
Exceeds all other service, and shall bind me
Both to acknowledge and reward.
_Little._ Sweet madam,
Think me but worth your favour; I would creep
Upon my knees to honour you, and for every 125
Minute you lend to my reward, I’ll pay
A year of serviceable tribute.
_Lady B._ You
Can compliment.
_Little._ (_Aside._) Thus still she puts me off;
Unless I speak the downright word, she’ll never
Understand me. A man would think that creeping 130
Upon one’s knees were English to a lady.
_Enter_ KICKSHAW.
_Kick._ How is’t, Jack.—Pleasures attend you, madam!
How does my plant of honour?
_Lady B._ Who is this?
_Kick._ ’T is Alexander.
_Lady B._ Rich and glorious!
_Little._ ’T is Alexander the Great.
_Kick._ And my Bucephalus 135
Waits at the door.
_Lady B._ Your case is alter’d, sir.
_Kick._ I cannot help these things, the Fates will have it;
’T is not my land does this.
_Little._ But thou hast a plough
That brings it in.
_Lady B._ Now he looks brave and lovely.
_Fred._ Welcome, my gallant Macedonian, 140
_Kick._ Madam, you gave your nephew for my pupil.
I read[4324] but in a tavern; if you’ll honour us,
The Bear at the Bridge foot shall entertain you.
A drawer[4325] is my Ganymede, he shall skink[4326]
Brisk nectar to us; we will only have 145
A dozen partridge in a dish; as many pheasants,
Quails, cocks, and godwits shall come marching up
Like the train’d-band;[4327] a fort of sturgeon
Shall give most bold defiance to an army,
And triumph o’er the table.—
_Lady B._ Sir, it will 150
But dull the appetite to hear more, and mine
Must be excus’d. Another time I may be
Your guest.
_Kick._ ’T is grown in fashion now with ladies;
When you please, I ’ll attend you. Littleworth.—
Come, Frederick.
_Fred._ We ’ll have music; I love noise. 155
We will outroar the Thames, and shake the bridge, boy.
_Exit_ [_with_ KICKSHAW].
_Little._ Madam, I kiss your hand; would you would think
Of your poor servant: flesh and blood is frail,
And troublesome to carry, without help.
_Lady B._ A coach will easily convey it, or 160
You may take water at Strand Bridge.
_Little._ But I
Have taken fire.
_Lady B._ The Thames will cool [it, sir].
_Little._ But never quench my heart; your charity
Can only do that.
_Lady B._ I will keep it cold
Of purpose.
_Little._ Now you bless me, and I dare 165
Be drunk in expectation. [_Exit._]
_Lady B._ I am confident
He knows me not, and I were worse than mad
To be my own betrayer.—Here ’s my husband.
_Enter_ SIR THOMAS BORNWELL.
_Born._ Why, how now, Aretina? What! alone?
The mystery of this solitude? My house 170
Turn desert o’ the sudden! All the gamesters
Blown up! Why is the music put to silence?
Or have their instruments caught a cold, since we
Gave ’em the last heat? I must know thy ground
Of melancholy.
_Lady B._ You are merry, as 175
You came from kissing Celestina.
_Born._ I
Feel her yet warm upon my lip; she is
Most excellent company: I did not think
There was that sweetness in her sex. I must
Acknowledge, ’t was thy cure to disenchant me 180
From a dull husband to an active lover.
With such a lady I could spend more years
Than since my birth my glass hath run soft minutes,
And yet be young; her presence hath a spell
To keep off age; she has an eye would strike 185
Fire through an adamant.
_Lady B._ I have heard as much
Bestow’d upon a dull-fac’d chambermaid,
Whom love and wit would thus commend. True beauty
Is mock’d when we compare thus, itself being
Above what can be fetch’d[4328] to make it lovely;
Or,[4329] could our thoughts reach something to declare 191
The glories of a face, or body’s elegance
(That touches but our sense), when beauty spreads
Over the soul, and calls up understanding
To look [what][4330] thence is offer’d, and admire! 195
In both I must acknowledge Celestina
Most excellently fair, fair above all
The beauties I ha’ seen, and one most worthy
Man’s love and wonder.
_Born._ Do you speak, Aretina,
This with a pure sense to commend? Or is ’t 200
The mockery of my praise?
_Lady B._ Although it shame
Myself, I must be just, and give her all
The excellency of women; and were I
A man—
_Born._ What then?
_Lady B._ I know not with what loss
I should attempt her love. She is a piece 205
So angelically moving, I should think
Frailty excus’d to dote upon her form,
And almost virtue to be wicked with her. _Exit._
_Born._ What should this mean? This is no jealousy,
Or she believes I counterfeit. I feel 210
Something within me, like a heat, to give
Her cause, would Celestina but consent.
What a frail thing is man! It is not worth
Our glory to be chaste, while we deny
Mirth and converse with women. He is good 215
That dares the tempter, yet corrects his blood. _Exit._
[SCENE III.][4331]
[_Enter_] CELESTINA, MARIANA, _and_ ISABELLA.
_Cel._ I have told you all my knowledge: since he is pleas’d
To invite himself, he shall be entertain’d,
And you shall be my witnesses.
_Mar._ Who comes with him?
_Cel._ Sir William Scentlove, that prepar’d me for
The honourable encounter. I expect 5
His lordship every minute.
_Enter_ SIR WILLIAM SCENTLOVE.
_Scent._ My lord is come.
_Cel._ He has honour’d me.
_Enter_ Lord—_and_ HAIRCUT.
_Scent._ My Lord, your periwig is awry.
_Lord._ You, sir—
_While_ HAIRCUT _is busy about his hair_, SIR WILLIAM SCENTLOVE _goes
to_ CELESTINA.
_Scent._ You may guess at the gentleman that ’s with him.
It is his barber, madam, d’ ye observe?
An your ladyship wants a shaver.
_Hair._ She is here, sir. 10
I am betray’d.—Scentlove, your plot. I may
Have opportunity to be reveng’d. _Exit._
_Scent._ She in the midst.
_Lord._ She ’s fair, I must confess;
But does she keep this distance out of state?
_Cel._ Though I am poor in language to express 15
How much your lordship honours me, my heart
Is rich and proud in such a guest. I shall
Be out of love with every air abroad,
And for his grace done my unworthy house,
Be a fond prisoner, become anchorite, 20
And spend my hours in prayer, to reward
The blessing and the bounty of this presence.
_Lord._ Though you could turn each place you move in to
A temple, rather than a wall should hide
So rich a beauty from the world, it were 25
Less want to lose our piety and your prayer.
A throne were fitter to present you to
Our wonder, whence your eyes, more worth than all
They look on, should chain every heart a prisoner.
_Scent._ ’T was pretty well come off.
_Lord._ By your example 30
I shall know how to compliment; in this,
You more confirm my welcome.
_Cel._ I shall love
My lips the better, if their silent language
Persuade your lordship but to think so truly.
_Lord._ You make me smile, madam.
_Cel._ I hope you came not 35
With fear that any sadness here should shake
One blossom from your eye. I should be miserable
To present any object should displease you.
_Lord._ You do not, madam.
_Cel._ As I should account
It no less sorrow, if your lordship should 40
Lay too severe a censure on my freedom.
I wo’ not court a prince against his justice,
Nor bribe him with a smile to think me honest.
Pardon, my lord, this boldness, and the mirth
That may flow from me. I believe my father 45
Thought of no winding-sheet when he begot me.
_Lord._ She has a merry soul.—It will become
Me ask your pardon, madam, for my rude
Approach, so much a stranger to your knowledge.
_Cel._ Not, my lord, so much stranger to my knowledge; 50
Though I have but seen your person afar off,
I am acquainted with your character,
Which I have heard so often, I can speak it.
_Lord._ You shall do me an honour.
_Cel._ If your lordship will
Be patient.
_Lord._ And glad to hear my faults. 55
_Cel._ That as your conscience can agree upon ’em;
However, if your lordship give me privilege,
I’ll tell you what’s the opinion of the world.
_Lord._ You cannot please me better.
_Cel._ Y’are a lord
Born with as much nobility as would, 59
Divided, serve to make ten noblemen,
Without a herald; but with so much spirit
And height of soul, as well might furnish twenty.
You are learn’d, a thing not compatible now
With native honour; and are master of 65
A language that doth chain all ears,[4332] and charm
All hearts, where you persuade; a wit so flowing,
And prudence to correct it, that all men
Believe they only meet in you, which, with 69
A spacious memory, make up the full wonders:
To these you have [joined][4333] valour and upon
A noble cause, know how to use a sword
To honour’s best advantage, though you wear[4334] none.
You are as bountiful as the showers that fall
Into the spring’s green bosom; as you were 75
Created lord of Fortune, not her steward;
So constant to the cause in which you make
Yourself an advocate, you dare all dangers;
And men had rather you should be their friend,
Than justice or the bench bound up together. 80
_Lord._ But did you hear all this?
_Cel._ And more, my lord.
_Lord._ Pray let me have it, madam.
_Cel._ To all these virtues there is added one,—
(Your lordship will remember, when I name it,
I speak but what I gather from the voice 85
Of others)—it is grown to a full fame
That you have lov’d a woman.
_Lord._ But one, madam?
_Cel._ Yes, many; give me leave to smile, my lord,
I shall not need to interpret in what sense;
But you have show’d yourself right honourable, 90
And, for your love to ladies, have deserv’d,
If their vote might prevail, a marble statue.
I make no comment on the people’s text,—
My lord, I should be sorry to offend.
_Lord._ You cannot, madam; these are things we owe 95
To nature for.
_Cel._ And honest men will pay
Their debts.
_Lord._ If they be able, or compound.
_Cel._ She had a hard heart would be unmerciful,
And not give day to men so promising;
But you ow’d women nothing.
_Lord._ Yes, I am 100
Still in their debt, and I must owe them love,
It was part of my character.
_Cel._ With your lordship’s
Pardon, I only said you had a fame
For loving women; but of late, men say
You have, against the imperial laws of love, 105
Restrain’d the active flowings of your blood,
And with a mistress buried all that is
Hop’d for in love’s succession, as all beauty
Had died with her, and left the world benighted!
In this you more dishonour all our sex 110
Than you did grace a part; when everywhere
Love tempts your eye to admire a glorious harvest,
And everywhere as full blown ears submit
Their golden heads, the laden trees bow down
Their willing fruit, and court your amorous tasting. 115
_Lord._ I see men would dissect me to a fibre;
But do you believe this?
_Cel._ It is my wonder,
I must confess, a man of nobler earth
Than goes to vulgar composition,
(Born and bred high, so unconfin’d, so rich 120
In fortunes, and so read in all that sum
Up human knowledge, to feed gloriously,
And live at court, the only sphere wherein
True beauty moves, nature’s most wealthy garden,
Where every blossom is more worth than all 125
The Hesperian fruit by jealous dragon watch’d,
Where all delights do circle appetite,
And pleasures multiply by being tasted,)
Should be so lost with thought of one turn’d ashes.
There’s nothing left, my lord, that can excuse you, 130
Unless you plead, what I am asham’d to prompt
Your wisdom to?
_Lord._ What ’s that?
_Cel._ That you have play’d
The surgeon with yourself.
_Lord._ And am made eunuch?
_Cel._ It were much pity.
_Lord._ Trouble not yourself,
I could convince your fears with demonstration 135
That I am man enough, but knew not where,
Until this meeting, beauty dwelt. The court
You talk’d of must be where the Queen of Love is,
Which moves but with your person; in your eye
Her glory shines, and only at that flame 140
Her wanton boy doth light his quick’ning torch.
_Cel._ Nay, now you compliment; I would it did,
My lord, for your own sake.
_Lord._ You would be kind,
And love me then?
_Cel._ My lord, I should be loving,
Where I found worth to invite it, and should cherish 145
A constant man.
_Lord._ Then you should me, madam.
_Cel._ But is the ice about your heart fallen off?
Can you return to do what love commands?—
Cupid, thou shalt have instant sacrifice,
And I dare be the priest.
_Lord._ Your hand, your lip; [_Kisses her._] 150
Now I am proof ’gainst all temptation.
_Cel._ Your meaning, my good lord?
_Lord._ I, that have strength
Against thy voice and beauty, after this
May dare the charms of womankind.—Thou art,
Bella Maria, unprofaned yet; 155
This magic has no power upon my blood.—
Farewell, madam! if you durst be the example
Of chaste as well as fair, thou wert a brave one.
_Cel._ I hope your lordship means not this for earnest;
Be pleas’d to grace a banquet.
_Lord._ Pardon, madam.— 160
Will Scentlove, follow; I must laugh at you.
_Cel._ My lord, I must beseech you stay, for honour,
For her whose memory you love best.
_Lord._ Your pleasure.
_Cel._ And by that virtue you have now profest,
I charge you to believe me too; I can 165
Now glory that you have been worth my trial,
Which, I beseech you, pardon. Had not you
So valiantly recover’d in this conflict,
You had been my triumph, without hope of more
Than my just scorn upon your wanton flame;
Nor will I think these noble thoughts grew first 171
From melancholy, for some female loss,
As the fantastic world believes, but from
Truth, and your love of innocence, which shine
So bright in the two royal luminaries[4335] 175
At court, you cannot lose your way to chastity.
Proceed, and speak of me as honour guides you. _Exit_ LORD.
I am almost tir’d.—Come, ladies, we ’ll beguile
Dull time, and take the air another while. _Exeunt._
ACT V
[SCENE I.][4336]
_Enter_ Lady BORNWELL, _and a_ Servant [_with a purse_].
_Lady B._ But hath Sir Thomas lost five hundred pounds
Already?
_Serv._ And five hundred more he borrow’d.
The dice are notable devourers, madam;
They make no more of pieces than of pebbles,
But thrust their heaps together, to engender. 5
“Two hundred more the caster!”[4337] cries this gentleman.
“I am wi’ ye.—I ha’ that to nothing, sir. The caster
Again.” ’T is covered, and the table too,
With sums that frighted me. Here one sneaks out,
And with a martyr’s patience smiles upon 10
His money’s executioner, the dice;
Commands a pipe of good tobacco, and
I’ th’ smoke on ’t vanishes. Another makes
The bones vault o’er his head, swears that ill-throwing
Has put his shoulder out of joint, calls for 15
A bone-setter. That looks to th’ box, to bid
His master send him some more hundred pounds,
Which lost, he takes tobacco, and is quiet.
Here a strong arm throws in and in, with which
He brusheth all the table, pays the rooks[4338] 20
That went their smelts[4339] a piece upon his hand,
Yet swears he has not drawn a stake this seven year.
But I was bid make haste; my master may
Lose this five hundred pounds ere I come thither. _Exit._
_Lady B._ If we both waste so fast, we shall soon find 25
Our state is not immortal. Something in
His other ways appear not well ready.