_Clarence Solus_.
_Cla_. I that have studied with world-skorning thoughts
The way of Heaven, and how trew Heaven is reacht
To know how mighty, and how many are
The strange affections of enchaunted number;
How to distinguish all the motions
Of the Celestiall bodies, and what power
Doth separate in such forme this massive Rownd;
What is his Essence, Efficacies, Beames,
Foot-steps, and Shadowes; what Eternesse[15] is,
The World, and Time, and Generation;
What Soule, the worlds Soule is, what the blacke Springs
And unreveald Originall of Things,
What their perseverance; what's life, and death,
And what our certaine Restauration;
Am with the staid-heads of this Time imploy'd
To watch with all my Nerves a Female shade.
_Enter Wynnifred, Anabell, with their sowing workes
and sing: After their song Enter Lord Momford_.
_Mom_. Witty Mistrisse _Wynnifred_, where is your Countesse, I pray?
_Wyn_. Faith your Lordship is bould enough to seeke her out, if she were
at her urinall?
_Mom_. Then sh'as done, it seemes, for here she comes to save me that
labour; away, wenches, get you hence wenches.
[_Exeunt_.
_Eu_. What, can you not abide my maides, unkle?
_Mom_. I never cood abide a maide in my life Neece, but either I draw
away the maide, or the maidenhead with a wet finger[16].
_Eug_. You love to make your selfe worse then you are still.
_Mom_. I know few mend in this World, Madam. For the worse the better
thought on, the better the worse spoken on ever amongst women.
_Eu_. I wonder where you have binne all this while with your sentences.
_Mom_. Faith where I must be againe presently. I cannot stay long with
you my deere Neece.
_Eu_. By my faith but you shall, my Lord. Cods pittie what will become
of you shortly, that you drive maids afore you, and offer to leave
widowes behind you, as mankindelie as if you had taken a surfet of our
Sex lately, and our very sight turnd your stomacke?
_Mom_. Cods my life, she abuses her best unkle; never trust me if it
were not a good revenge to helpe her to the losse of her widow-head.
_Eu_. That were a revenge, and a halfe, indeed.
_Mom_. Nay twere but a whole revenge Neece, but such a revenge as would
more then observe the true rule of a revenger.
_Eu_. I know your rule before you utter it, _Vlciscere inimico_ [sic]
_sed sine tuo incommodo_.
_Mom_. O rare Neece, you may see, what tis to be a scholler now;
learning in a woman is like waight in gold, or luster in Diamants, which
in no other Stone is so rich or refulgent.
_Eug_. But say deere Vnckle how could you finde in your heart to stay so
long from me?
_Mom_. Why, alas Neece, y'are so smeard with this willfull widdows
three-yeeres blacke weede, that I never come to you, but I dreame of
Coarses, and Sepulchres, and Epitaphs, all the night after, and
therefore adew deere Neece.
_Eug_. Beshrew my heart my Lord, if you goe theis three houres.
_Mom_. Three houres? nay Neece, if I daunce attendance three hours
(alone in her Chamber) with any Lady so neere alide to me, I am very
idle yfaith--Mary with such an other I would daunce, one, two, three,
foure, and five, tho it cost me ten shillings. And now I am in, have at
it! my head must devise something, while my feet are pidling thus, that
may bring her to some fit consideration of my friend, who indeed is
onely a great scholler, and all his honours, and riches lie in his
minde.
_Eu_. Come, come, pray tell me uncle, how does my cosen _Momford_?
_Mom_. Why, well, very well Neece, and so is my friend _Clarence_ well
too, and then is there a worthy gentleman well as any is in England I
can tell ye. [_He daunceth speaking_.
_Eug_. But when did you see my Cosen?
_Mom_. And tis pitty but he should do well, and he shall be well too,
if all my wealth will make him well.
_Eug_. What meanes he by this, tro? your Lord is very dancitive me
thinkes.
_Mom_. I, and I could tell you a thing would make your Ladyship very
dancitive, or else it were very dunsative yfaith. O how the skipping of
this Christmas blocke of ours moves the block-head heart of a woman and
indeed any thing that pleaseth the foolish eye which presently runnes
with a lying tale of Excellence to the minde.
_Eug_. But I pray tell me my Lord could you tell me of a thing would
make me dance say you?
_Mom_. Well, farewell sweet Neece, I must needs take my leave in
earnest.
_Eu_. Lord blesse us, heres such a stir with your farewels.
_Mom_. I will see you againe within these two or three dayes a my word
Neece.
_Eug_. Cods pretious, two or three dayes? why this Lord is in a
maruallous strange humor. Sit downe, sweet Vnkle; yfaith I have to
talke with you about greate matters.
_Mom_. Say then deere Neece, be short utter your minde quickly now.
_Eug_. But I pray tell me first, what's that would make me daunce
yfaith?
_Mom_. Daunce, what daunce? hetherto your dauncers legges bow for-sooth,
and Caper, and jerke, and Firke, and dandle the body above them, as it
were their great childe; though the speciall jerker be above this place
I hope here lies that shud fetch a perfect woman over the Coles yfaith.
_Eug_. Nay good Vnkle say what's the thing you could tell me of?
_Mom_. No matter, no matter: But let me see a passing prosperous
fore-head of an exceeding happy distance betwixt the eye browes; a cleere
lightning eye; a temperate, and fresh bloud in both the cheekes:
excellent markes, most excellent markes of good fortune.
_Eug_. Why, how now Vnkle did you never see me before?
_Mom_. Yes Neece; but the state of these things at this instant must be
specially observed, and these outward signes being now in this cleere
elevation, show your untroubled minde is in an excellent power, to
preferre them to act forth then a little, deere Neece.
_Eug_. This is excellent.
_Mom_. The Crises here are excellent good; The proportion of the chin
good; the little aptness of it to sticke out good; and the wart above it
most exceeding good. Never trust me, if all things be not answerable to
the prediction of a most Divine fortune towards her; now if she have the
grace to apprehend it in the nicke; thers all.
_Eug_. Well my Lord, since you will not tell me your secret, ile keepe
another from you; with whose discovery, you may much pleasure me, and
whose concealement may hurt my estate. And if you be no kinder then to
see me so indangered; ile be very patient of it, I assure you.
_Mom_. Nay then it must instantly foorth. This kinde conjuration even
fires it out of me; and (to be short) gather all your judgment
togeather, for here it comes. Neece, _Clarence, Clarence_, rather my
soule then my friend _Clarence_, of too substantiall a worth, to have
any figures cast about him (notwithstanding, no other woman with Empires
could stirre his affections) is with your vertues most extreamely in
love; and without your requitall dead. And with it Fame shall sound this
golden disticke through the World of you both.
_Non illo melior quisquam, nec amantior aequi
Vir fuit, aut illa reverentior ulla Deorum_[17].
_Eug_. Ay me poore Dame, O you amase me Vncle,
Is this the wondrous fortune you presage?
What man may miserable women trust?
_Mom_. O peace good Lady, I come not to ravish you to any thing. But now
I see how you accept my motion: I perceive (how upon true triall) you
esteeme me. Have I rid all this Circuite to levie the powers of your
Iudgment, that I might not proove their strength too sodainly with so
violent a charge; And do they fight it out in white bloud, and show me
their hearts in the soft Christall of teares?
_Eug_. O uncle you have wounded your selfe in charging me that I should
shun Iudgement as a monster, if it would not weepe; I place the poore
felicity of this World in a woorthy friend, and to see him so unworthily
revolted, I shed not the teares of my Brayne, but the teares of my
soule. And if ever nature made teares th'effects of any worthy cause,
I am sure I now shed them worthily.
_Mom_. Her sensuall powers are up yfaith, I have thrust her soule quite
from her Tribunall. This is her _Sedes vacans_ when her subjects are
priviledged to libell against her, and her friends. But weeps my kinde
Neece for the wounds of my friendship? And I toucht in friendship for
wishing my friend doubled in her singular happinesse?
_Eug_. How am I doubl'd? when my honour, and good name, two essentiall
parts of me; would bee lesse, and loste?
_Mom_. In whose Iudgment?
_Eug_. In the judgment of the World.
_Mom_. Which is a fooles boult. _Nihil a virtute nec a veritate
remotius, quàm vulgaris opinio_: But my deare Neece, it is most true
that your honour, and good name tendred, as they are the species of
truth, are worthily two esentiall parts of you; But as they consist only
in ayrie titles, and corrupteble bloud (whose bitternes _sanitas & non
nobilitas efficit_) and care not how many base, and execrable acts they
commit, they touch you no more then they touch eternity. And yet shall
no nobility you have in eyther, be impaired neither.
_Eug_. Not to marry a poore Gentleman?
_Mom_. Respect him not so; for as he is a Gentleman he is noble; as he
is wealthily furnished with true knowledge, he is rich, and therein
adorn'd with the exactest complements belonging to everlasting
noblenesse.
_Eug_. Which yet will not maintaine him a weeke: Such kinde of
noblenesse gives no cotes of honour nor can scarse gette a cote for
necessity.
_Mom_. Then is it not substantiall knowledge (as it is in him) but
verball, and fantasticall for _Omnia in illa ille complexu tenet_.
_Eug_. Why seekes he me then?
_Mom_. To make you joynt partners with him in all things, and there is
but a little partiall difference betwixt you, that hinders that
universall joynture: The bignesse of this circle held too neere our eye
keepes it from the whole Spheare of the Sun; but could we sustaine it
indifferently betwixt us, and it would then without checke of one beame
appeare in his fulnes.
_Eug_. Good Vnckle be content, for now shall I never dreame of
contentment.
_Mom_. I have more then done Lady, and had rather have suffer'd an
alteration of my being, then of your Judgment; but (deere Neece) for
your own honours sake repaire it instantly.
_Enter Hippolyta. Penelope. Iacke. Will_.
See heere comes the Ladies; make an Aprill day on't[18], deare love,
and bee sodainly cheerefull. God save you, more then faire Ladies,
I am glad your come, for my busines will have me gone presently.
_Hip_. Why my Lord _Momford_ I say? will you goe before Dinner?
_Mom_. No remedy, sweet Beauties, for which rudnesse I lay my hands thus
low for your pardons.
_Pen_. O Courteous Lo. _Momford_![19]
_Mom_. Neece?----_Mens est quae sola quietos,
Sola facit claros, mentemque honoribus ornat_.[20]
_Eug_. _Verus honos juvat, at mendax infamia terret_.[21]
_Mom_. Mine owne deare nephew?
_Cla_. What successe my Lord?
_Mom_. Excellent; excellent; come Ile tell thee all.--_Exeunt_.
_Hip_. Doe you heare Madam, how our youthes here have guld our three
suiters?
_Eug_. Not I, Lady; I hope our suiters are no fit meat for our Pages.
_Pe_. No Madam, but they are fit sawce for any mans meat, Ile warrent
them.
_Eug_. What's the matter _Hippolyta_?
_Hip_. They have sent the Knights to _Barnet_, Madam, this frosty
morning to meet us there.
_Eug_. I'st true, youths? are Knights fit subjects for your knaveries?
_Will_. Pray pardon us, Madam, we would be glad to please anie body.
_Ia_. I indeed, Madam, and we were sure we pleased them highly, to tell
them you were desirous of their company.
_Hip_. O t'was good, _Eugenia_, their livers were too hot, you know, and
for temper sake they must needs have a cooling carde[22] plaid upon
them.
_Wil_. And besides Madam we wood have them know that your two little
Pages, which are lesse by halfe then two leaves, have more learning in
them then is in all their three volumnes.
_Ia_. I yfaith _Will_, and put their great pagicall index to them, too.
_Hip_. But how will ye excuse your abuses, wags?
_Wil_. We doubt not, Madam, but if it please your Ladiship to put up
their abuses.
_Ia_. Trusting they are not so deere to you, but you may.
_Wil_. We shall make them gladly furnishe their pockets with them.
_Hip_. Well, children and foules, agree as you will, and let the World
know now, women have nothing to doe with you.
_Pe_. Come, Madam, I thinke your Dinner bee almost ready.
_Enter Tales, Kingcob_.
_Hip_. And see, here are two honourable guests for you, the Lord
_Tales_, and sir _Cutberd Kingcob_.
_Ta_. Lacke you any guests, Madam?
_Eu_. I, my Lord, such guests as you.
_Hip_. Theres as common an answere, as yours was a question, my Lord.
_King_. Why? all things shood be common betwixt Lords, and Ladies, you
know.
_Pe_. Indeed sir _Cutberd Kingcob_, I have heard, you are either of the
familie of Love[23], or of no religion at all.
_Eug_. He may well be said to be of the family of love, he does so flow
in the loves of poore over-throwne Ladies.
_King_. You speake of that I wood doe, Madam, but in earnest, I am now
suing for a new Mistres; looke in my hand sweet Lady, and tell me what
fortune I shall have with her.
_Eug_. Doe you thinke me a witch, Sir _Cutberd_?
_King_. Pardon me Madam, but I know you to bee learned in all things.
_Eug_. Come on, lets see.
_Hip_. He does you a speciall favour Lady, to give you his open hand,
for tis commonly shut they say.
_King_. What find you in it, Madam?
_Eug_. Shut it now, and ile tell yee.
_King_. What now Lady?
_Eug_. Y'ave the worst hand that ever I saw Knight have; when tis open,
one can find nothing in it, and when tis shut one can get nothing out
ont.
_King_. The age of letting goe is past, Madam; we must not now let goe,
but strike up mens heeles, and take am as they fall.
_Eug_. A good Cornish principle beleeve it sir _Cutberd_.
_Tales_. But I pray tell me, Lady _Penelope_, how entertaine you the
love of my Cosen sir _Gyles Goosecappe_.
_Pene_. Are the _Goosecaps_ a kin to you, my Lord?
_Ta_. Even in the first degree, Madam. And, Sir _Gyles_, I can tell ye,
tho he seeme something simple, is compos'd of as many good parts as any
Knight in England.
_Hip_. He shood be put up for concealement then, for he shewes none of
them.
_Pen_. Are you able to reckon his good parts, my Lord?
_Ta_. Ile doe the best I can, Lady; first, he danses as comely, and
lightly as any man, for upon my honour, I have seene him danse upon
Egges, and a has not broken them.
_Pene_. Nor crackt them neyther.
_Ta_. That I know not; indeed I wood be loath to lie though he be my
kinsman, to speake more then I know by him.
_Eug_. Well, forth my Lord.
_Ta_. He has an excellent skill in all manner of perfumes, & if you
bring him gloves from forty pence, to forty shillings a paire, he will
tell you the price of them to two pence.
_Hip_. A pretty sweet quality beleeve me.
_Tales_. Nay Lady he will perfume you gloves himselfe most delicately,
and give them the right Spanish Titillation.
_Pene_. Titillation what's that my Lord?
_Tal_. Why, Lady, tis a pretty kinde of terme new come up in perfuming,
which they call a Titillation.
_Hip_. Very well expounded, my Lord; forth with your kinsmans parts I
pray.
_Tal_. He is the best Sempster of any woman in England, and will worke
you needle-worke-edgings, and _French_ purles, from an Angell to foure
Angells a yarde.
_Eug_. That's pretious ware indeed.
_Tal_. He will worke you any flower to the life, as like it as if it
grew in the very place, and being a delicate perfumer, he will give it
you his perfect, and naturall savour.
_Hip_. This is wonderfull; forth, sweet Lord _Tales_.
_Tal_. He will make you flyes, and wormes, of all sorts most lively, and
is now working a whole bed embrodred, with nothing but glowe wormes;
whose lights a has so perfectly done, that you may goe to bed in the
Chamber, doe any thing in the Chamber, without a Candle.
_Pene_. Never trust me, if it be not incredible; forth my good Lord.
_Tal_. He is a most excellent Turner, and will turne you wassel-bowles,
and posset Cuppes caru'd with libberds faces, and Lyons heads with
spouts in their mouths, to let out the posset Ale, most artificially.
_Eug_. Forth, good Lord _Tales_.
_Pene_. Nay, good my Lord no more; you have spoken for him thoroughly I
warrant you.
_Hip_. I lay my life _Cupid_ has shot my sister in love with him out of
your lips, my Lord.
_Eug_. Well, come in, my Lords, and take a bad Dinner with me now, and
we will all goe with you at night to a better supper with the Lord and
Lady _Furnifall_.
_King_. _Tale_. We attend you, honorable Ladies.
_Exeunt_.
_Actvs Tertii_.