Fain would I wake you, Sweet, but fear
I should invite you to worse chear;
In your dreams you cannot fare
Meaner than Musick; no compare;
None of your slumbers are compil'd
Under the pleasure makes a Child;
Your day-delights, so well compact,
That what you think, turns all to act:
I'd wish my life no better play,
Your dream by night, your thought by day.
Wake gently, wake,
Part softly from your dreams;
The morning flies
To your fair eyes,
To take her special beams.
I should invite you to worse chear;
In your dreams you cannot fare
Meaner than Musick; no compare;
None of your slumbers are compil'd
Under the pleasure makes a Child;
Your day-delights, so well compact,
That what you think, turns all to act:
I'd wish my life no better play,
Your dream by night, your thought by day.
Wake gently, wake,
Part softly from your dreams;
The morning flies
To your fair eyes,
To take her special beams.
Sir Gr. I hear her up, here Master Voice,
Pay you the Instruments, save what you can,
Pay you the Instruments, save what you can,
Enter Neece above.
To keep you when you're crackt. [Exit Boy.
Neece. Who should this be?
That I'm so much beholding to, for sweetness?
Pray Heaven it happens right.
That I'm so much beholding to, for sweetness?
Pray Heaven it happens right.
Sir Gr. Good morrow, Mistriss.
Neece. An ill day and a thousand come upon thee.
Sir Gr. 'Light, that's six hundred more than any
Almanack has.
Almanack has.
Neece. Comes it from thee? it is the mangiest Musick
That ever woman heard.
That ever woman heard.
Sir Gr. Nay, say not so, Lady,
There's not an itch about 'em.
There's not an itch about 'em.
Neece. I could curse
My attentive powers, for giving entrance to't;
There is no boldness like the impudence
That's lockt in a fools bloud, how durst you do this?
In conscience I abus'd you as sufficiently
As woman could a man; insatiate Coxcomb,
The mocks and spiteful language I have given thee,
Would o' my life ha' serv'd ten reasonable men,
And rise contented too, and left enough for their friends.
Thou glutton at abuses, never satisfied?
I am perswaded thou devour'st more flouts
Than all thy body's worth, and still a hungred!
A mischief of that maw, prethee seek elsewhere,
Introth I am weary of abusing thee;
Get thee a fresh Mistriss, thou'st make work enough;
I do not think there's scorn enough in Town
To serve thy turn, take the Court-Ladies in,
And all their Women to 'em, that exceed 'em.
My attentive powers, for giving entrance to't;
There is no boldness like the impudence
That's lockt in a fools bloud, how durst you do this?
In conscience I abus'd you as sufficiently
As woman could a man; insatiate Coxcomb,
The mocks and spiteful language I have given thee,
Would o' my life ha' serv'd ten reasonable men,
And rise contented too, and left enough for their friends.
Thou glutton at abuses, never satisfied?
I am perswaded thou devour'st more flouts
Than all thy body's worth, and still a hungred!
A mischief of that maw, prethee seek elsewhere,
Introth I am weary of abusing thee;
Get thee a fresh Mistriss, thou'st make work enough;
I do not think there's scorn enough in Town
To serve thy turn, take the Court-Ladies in,
And all their Women to 'em, that exceed 'em.
Sir Gr. Is this in earnest, Lady?
Neece. Oh unsatiable!
Dost thou count all this but an earnest yet?
I'd thought I'd paid thee all the whole sum, trust me;
Thou'lt begger my derision utterly
If thou stay'st longer, I shall want a laugh:
If I knew where to borrow a contempt
Would hold thee tack, stay and be hang'd, thou shouldst then:
But thou'st no conscience now to extort hate from me,
When one has spent all she can make upon thee;
Must I begin to pay thee hire again?
After I have rid thee twice? faith 'tis unreasonable.
Dost thou count all this but an earnest yet?
I'd thought I'd paid thee all the whole sum, trust me;
Thou'lt begger my derision utterly
If thou stay'st longer, I shall want a laugh:
If I knew where to borrow a contempt
Would hold thee tack, stay and be hang'd, thou shouldst then:
But thou'st no conscience now to extort hate from me,
When one has spent all she can make upon thee;
Must I begin to pay thee hire again?
After I have rid thee twice? faith 'tis unreasonable.
Sir Gr. Say you so? I'll know that presently. [Exit.
Neece. Now he runs
To fetch my Uncle to this musty bargain,
But I have better ware always at hand.
And lay by this still, when he comes to cheapen.
To fetch my Uncle to this musty bargain,
But I have better ware always at hand.
And lay by this still, when he comes to cheapen.
Enter Cuningam.
Cun. I met the Musick now, yet cannot learn
What entertainment he receiv'd from her.
What entertainment he receiv'd from her.
Nee. There's some body set already, I must to't, I see,
Well, well, Sir Gregory?
Well, well, Sir Gregory?
Cun. Hah, Sir Gregory?
Nee. Where e'er you come, you may well boast your conquest.
Cun. She's lost y'faith, enough, has fortune then
Remembred her great boy? she seldom fails 'em.
Remembred her great boy? she seldom fails 'em.
Nee. H' was the unlikeliest man at first, methought,
To have my love, we never met but wrangled.
To have my love, we never met but wrangled.
Cun. A pox upon that wrangling, say I still,
I never knew it fail yet, where e'er't came;
It never comes but like a storm of hail,
'Tis sure to bring fine weather at the tail on't,
There's not one match 'mongst twenty made without it,
It fights i' th' tongue, but sure to agree i' th' haunches.
I never knew it fail yet, where e'er't came;
It never comes but like a storm of hail,
'Tis sure to bring fine weather at the tail on't,
There's not one match 'mongst twenty made without it,
It fights i' th' tongue, but sure to agree i' th' haunches.
Nee. That man that should ha' told me when time was.
I should ha' had him, had been laught at piteously,
But see how things will change!
I should ha' had him, had been laught at piteously,
But see how things will change!
Cun. Here's a heart feels it—Oh the deceitful promises of love!
What trust should a man put i' th' lip of woman?
She kist me with that strength, as if sh'ad meant
To ha' set the fair print of her soul upon me.
What trust should a man put i' th' lip of woman?
She kist me with that strength, as if sh'ad meant
To ha' set the fair print of her soul upon me.
Nee. I would ha' sworn 'twould ne'er ha been a match once.
Cun. I'll hear no more, I'm mad to hear so much,
Why should I aim my thoughts at better fortunes
Than younger brothers have? that's a Maid with nothing,
Or some old Soap-boilers Widow, without Teeth,
There waits my fortune for me, seek no farther. [Ex. Cun.
Why should I aim my thoughts at better fortunes
Than younger brothers have? that's a Maid with nothing,
Or some old Soap-boilers Widow, without Teeth,
There waits my fortune for me, seek no farther. [Ex. Cun.
Enter Old Knight, and Sir Gregory.
Old K. You tell me things, Sir Gregory, that cannot be.
She will not, nor she dares not.
She will not, nor she dares not.
Sir Gr. Would I were whipt then.
Nee. I'll make as little shew of love, Sir Gregory,
As ever Woman did, you shall not know
You have my heart a good while.
As ever Woman did, you shall not know
You have my heart a good while.
Old K. Heard you that?
Nee. Man will insult so soon, 'tis his condition,
'Tis good to keep him off as long as we can,
I've much ado, I swear; and love i' th' end
Will have his course, let Maids do what they can,
They are but frail things till they end in man.
'Tis good to keep him off as long as we can,
I've much ado, I swear; and love i' th' end
Will have his course, let Maids do what they can,
They are but frail things till they end in man.
Old K. What say you to this, Sir?
Sir Gr. This is somewhat handsome.
Nee. And by that little wrangling that I fain'd,
Now I shall try how constant his love is,
Although't went sore against my heart to chide him.
Now I shall try how constant his love is,
Although't went sore against my heart to chide him.
Sir Gr. Alas poor Gentlewoman.
Old K. Now y'are sure of truth,
You hear her own thoughts speak.
You hear her own thoughts speak.
Sir Gr. They speak indeed.
Old K. Go, you're a brainless Coax; a Toy, a Fop,
I'll go no farther than your name, Sir Gr[egory]
I'll right my self there; were you from this place,
You should perceive I'm heartily angry with you,
Offer to sow strife 'twixt my Neece and I?
Good morrow Neece, good morrow.
I'll go no farther than your name, Sir Gr[egory]
I'll right my self there; were you from this place,
You should perceive I'm heartily angry with you,
Offer to sow strife 'twixt my Neece and I?
Good morrow Neece, good morrow.
Nee. Many fair ones to you, Sir.
Old K. Go, you're a Coxcomb. How dost Neece this morning?
An idle shallow fool: sleep'st thou well, Girl?
Fortune may very well provide thee Lordships,
For honesty has left thee little manners.
An idle shallow fool: sleep'st thou well, Girl?
Fortune may very well provide thee Lordships,
For honesty has left thee little manners.
Sir Gr. How am I bang'd o'both sides!
Old K. Abuse kindnesse? Will't take the air to day Neece?
Nee. When you please, Sir,
There stands the Heir behind you I must take,
(Which I'd as lieve take, as take him I swear.)
There stands the Heir behind you I must take,
(Which I'd as lieve take, as take him I swear.)
Old K. La' you; do you hear't continued to your teeth now?
A pox of all such Gregories; what a hand [Neece lets fall her Scarfe.
Have I with you!
A pox of all such Gregories; what a hand [Neece lets fall her Scarfe.
Have I with you!
Sir Gr. No more y'feck, I ha' done, Sir:
Lady, your Scarf's fal'n down.
Lady, your Scarf's fal'n down.
Nee. 'Tis but your luck, Sir,
And does presage the Mistriss must fall shortly,
You may wear it, and you please.
And does presage the Mistriss must fall shortly,
You may wear it, and you please.
Old K. There's a trick for you,
You're parlously belov'd, you should complain.
You're parlously belov'd, you should complain.
Sir Gr. Yes, when I complain, Sir,
Then do your worst, there I'll deceive you, Sir.
Then do your worst, there I'll deceive you, Sir.
Old K. You are a Dolt, and so I leave you, Sir. [Exit.
Sir Gr. Ah sirrah, Mistriss were you caught, i'faith?
We overheard you all; I must not know
I have your heart, take heed o' that, I pray,
I knew some Scarf would come.
We overheard you all; I must not know
I have your heart, take heed o' that, I pray,
I knew some Scarf would come.
Nee. He's quite gone, sure:
Ah you base Coxcomb, couldst thou come again?
And so abus'd as thou wast?
Ah you base Coxcomb, couldst thou come again?
And so abus'd as thou wast?
Sir Gr. How?
Nee. 'Twould ha' kill'd
A sensible man, he would ha' gone to his chamber,
And broke his heart by this time.
A sensible man, he would ha' gone to his chamber,
And broke his heart by this time.
Sir Gr. Thank you heartily.
Nee. Or fixt a naked Rapier in a Wall,
Like him that earn'd his Knighthood, e'r he had it,
And then refus'd upon't, ran up to th' hilts.
Like him that earn'd his Knighthood, e'r he had it,
And then refus'd upon't, ran up to th' hilts.
Nee. What art thou made on? thou tough villanous vermin.
Will nothing destroy thee?
Will nothing destroy thee?
Sir Gr. Yes, yes, assure your self
Unkind words may do much.
Unkind words may do much.
Nee. Why, dost thou want 'em?
I've e'en consum'd my spleen to help thee to 'em:
Tell me what sort of words they be would speed thee?
I'll see what I can do yet.
I've e'en consum'd my spleen to help thee to 'em:
Tell me what sort of words they be would speed thee?
I'll see what I can do yet.
Sir Gr. I'm much beholding to you,
You're willing to bestow huge pains upon me.
You're willing to bestow huge pains upon me.
Nee. I should account nothing too much to rid thee.
Sir Gr. I wonder you'd not offer to destroy me,
All the while your Uncle was here.
All the while your Uncle was here.
Neece. Why there thou betray'st thy house; we of the Old-Crafts
Were born to more wit than so.
Were born to more wit than so.
Sir Greg. I wear your favor here.
Neece. Would it might rot thy arme off: if thou knewst
With what contempt thou hast it, what hearts bitterness,
How many cunning curses came along with it,
Thoud'st quake to handle it.
With what contempt thou hast it, what hearts bitterness,
How many cunning curses came along with it,
Thoud'st quake to handle it.
Sir Greg. A pox, tak't again then;
Who'd be thus plagu'd of all hands?
Who'd be thus plagu'd of all hands?
Neece. No, wear't still,
But long I hope thou shalt not, 'tis but cast
Upon thee, purposely to serve another
That has more right to't, as in some Countries they convey
Their treasure upon Asses to their friends;
If mine be but so wise, and apprehensive,
As my opinion gives him to my heart,
It stayes not long on thy desertless arme;
I'll make thee e'er I ha' done, not dare to wear
Any thing of mine, although I give't thee freely;
Kiss it you may, and make what shew you can,
But sure you carry't to a worthier Man,
And so good morrow to you. [Exit.
But long I hope thou shalt not, 'tis but cast
Upon thee, purposely to serve another
That has more right to't, as in some Countries they convey
Their treasure upon Asses to their friends;
If mine be but so wise, and apprehensive,
As my opinion gives him to my heart,
It stayes not long on thy desertless arme;
I'll make thee e'er I ha' done, not dare to wear
Any thing of mine, although I give't thee freely;
Kiss it you may, and make what shew you can,
But sure you carry't to a worthier Man,
And so good morrow to you. [Exit.
Sir Greg. Hu hum, ha hum;
I han't the spirit now to dash my brains out,
Nor the audacity to kill my self,
But I could cry my heart out, that's as good,
For so't be out, no matter which way it comes,
If I can dye with a fillip, or depart
At hot-cockles, What's that to any man?
If there be so much death that serves my turn there.
Every one knows the state of his own body,
No Carrion kills a Kite, but then agen
There's Cheese will choak a Daw; time I were dead I'faith,
If I knew which way without hurt or danger.
I am a Maiden-Knight, and cannot look
Upon a naked weapon with any modesty,
Else 'twould go hard with me, and to complain
To Sir Perfidious the old Knight agen,
Were to be more abus'd; perhaps he would beat me well,
But ne'er believe me.
I han't the spirit now to dash my brains out,
Nor the audacity to kill my self,
But I could cry my heart out, that's as good,
For so't be out, no matter which way it comes,
If I can dye with a fillip, or depart
At hot-cockles, What's that to any man?
If there be so much death that serves my turn there.
Every one knows the state of his own body,
No Carrion kills a Kite, but then agen
There's Cheese will choak a Daw; time I were dead I'faith,
If I knew which way without hurt or danger.
I am a Maiden-Knight, and cannot look
Upon a naked weapon with any modesty,
Else 'twould go hard with me, and to complain
To Sir Perfidious the old Knight agen,
Were to be more abus'd; perhaps he would beat me well,
But ne'er believe me.
Enter Cuningame.
And few Men dye o' beating, that were lost too:
Oh, here's my friend, I'll make my moan to him.
Oh, here's my friend, I'll make my moan to him.
Cun. I cannot tear her memory from my heart,
That treads mine down, was ever man so fool'd
That profest wit?
That treads mine down, was ever man so fool'd
That profest wit?
Sir Greg. O Cuningame?
Cun. Sir Gregory?
The choice, the Victor, the Towns happy Man?
The choice, the Victor, the Towns happy Man?
Sir Greg. 'Snigs, What do'st mean? come I to thee for comfort, and do'st abuse me too?
Cun. Abuse you? How Sir?
With justifying your fortune, and your joyes?
With justifying your fortune, and your joyes?
Sir Greg. Pray hold your hand, Sir, I've been bob'd enough,
You come with a new way now; strike me merrily,
But when a man's sore beaten o' both sides already,
Then the least tap in jest goes to the guts on him;
Wilt ha the truth? I'm made the rankest ass
That e'er was born to Lordships.
You come with a new way now; strike me merrily,
But when a man's sore beaten o' both sides already,
Then the least tap in jest goes to the guts on him;
Wilt ha the truth? I'm made the rankest ass
That e'er was born to Lordships.
Cun. What? No Sir?
Sir Greg. I had not thought my body could a yielded
All those foul scurvie names that she has call'd me,
I wonder whence she fetcht 'em?
All those foul scurvie names that she has call'd me,
I wonder whence she fetcht 'em?
Cun. Is this credible?
Sir Greg. She pin'd this Scarf upon me afore her Unckle,
But his back turn'd, she curst me so for wearing on't,
The very brawn of mine arme has ak'd ever since,
Yet in a manner forc't me to wear't still,
But hop't I should not long; if good luck serve
I should meet one that has more wit and worth
Should take it from me, 'twas but lent to me,
And sent to him for a token.
But his back turn'd, she curst me so for wearing on't,
The very brawn of mine arme has ak'd ever since,
Yet in a manner forc't me to wear't still,
But hop't I should not long; if good luck serve
I should meet one that has more wit and worth
Should take it from me, 'twas but lent to me,
And sent to him for a token.
Cun. I conceit it, I know the Man
That lies in wait for't, part with't by all means,
In any case, you are way-laid about it.
That lies in wait for't, part with't by all means,
In any case, you are way-laid about it.
Sir Greg. How Sir? way-laid?
Cun. Pox of a Scarf, say I,
I prize my friends life 'bove a million on 'em,
You shall be rul'd, Sir, I know more than you.
I prize my friends life 'bove a million on 'em,
You shall be rul'd, Sir, I know more than you.
Sir Greg. If you know more than I, let me be rid on't,
'Lass, 'tis not for my wearing, so she told me.
'Lass, 'tis not for my wearing, so she told me.
Cun. No, no, give me't, the knave shall miss his purpose,
And you shall live.
And you shall live.
Sir Greg. I would, as long as I could, Sir.
Cun. No more replyes, you shall, I'll prevent this,
Pompey shall march without it.
Pompey shall march without it.
Sir Greg. What, is't he?
My Man that was?
My Man that was?
Cun. Call him your deadly Enemy;
You give him too fair a name, you deal too nobly,
He bears a bloody mind, a cruel foe, Sir,
I care not if he heard me.
You give him too fair a name, you deal too nobly,
He bears a bloody mind, a cruel foe, Sir,
I care not if he heard me.
Sir Greg. But, Do you hear, Sir?
Can't sound with reason she should affect him?
Can't sound with reason she should affect him?
Cun. Do you talk of reason? I never thought to have heard
Such a word come from you; reason in love?
Would you give that, no Doctor could e'er give?
Has not a Deputy married his Cook-maid?
An Aldermans Widow, one that was her turn-broach?
Nay, Has not a great Lady brought her Stable
Into her Chamber: lay with her Horse-keeper?
Such a word come from you; reason in love?
Would you give that, no Doctor could e'er give?
Has not a Deputy married his Cook-maid?
An Aldermans Widow, one that was her turn-broach?
Nay, Has not a great Lady brought her Stable
Into her Chamber: lay with her Horse-keeper?
Sir Greg. Did ever love play such Jades tricks, Sir?
Cun. Oh thousands, thousands: Beware a sturdy Clown e're while you live, Sir;
'Tis like a huswifery in most Shires about us;
You shall ha' Farmers Widows wed thin Gentlemen,
Much like your self, but put'em to no stress;
What work can they do, with small trap-stick legs?
They keep Clowns to stop gaps, and drive in pegs,
A drudgery fit for Hindes, e'en back agen, Sir,
Your're safest at returning.
'Tis like a huswifery in most Shires about us;
You shall ha' Farmers Widows wed thin Gentlemen,
Much like your self, but put'em to no stress;
What work can they do, with small trap-stick legs?
They keep Clowns to stop gaps, and drive in pegs,
A drudgery fit for Hindes, e'en back agen, Sir,
Your're safest at returning.
Sir Greg. Think you so, Sir?
Cun. But, How came this Clown to be call'd Pompey first?
Sir Greg. Push, one good-man Cæsar, a Pump-maker kersen'd him;
Pompey he writes himself, but his right name's Pumpey,
And stunk too when I had him, now he's crank.
Pompey he writes himself, but his right name's Pumpey,
And stunk too when I had him, now he's crank.
Cun. I'm glad I know so much to quell his pride, Sir,
Walk you still that way, I'll make use of this,
To resolve all my doubts, and place this favor
On some new Mistriss, only for a try,
And if it meet my thoughts, I'll swear 'tis I. [Exit.
Walk you still that way, I'll make use of this,
To resolve all my doubts, and place this favor
On some new Mistriss, only for a try,
And if it meet my thoughts, I'll swear 'tis I. [Exit.
Sir Greg. Is Pompey grown so malepert? so frampel?
The onely cutter about Ladies honors?
The onely cutter about Ladies honors?
Enter Old Knight.
And his blade soonest out?
O. K. Now, What's the news, Sir?
Sir Gre. I dare not say but good; oh excellent good, Sir.
O. K. I hope now you're resolv'd she loves you, Knight?
Sir Gr. Cuds me, What else Sir? that's not to do now.
O. K. You would not think how desperately you anger'd me,
When you bely'd her goodness; oh you vext me,
Even to a Palsey.
When you bely'd her goodness; oh you vext me,
Even to a Palsey.
Sir Greg. What a thing was that Sir?
Enter Neece.
Neece. 'Tis, that 'tis; as I have hope of sweetness, the Scarfe's gone;
Worthy wise friend, I doat upon thy cunning,
We two shall be well matcht, our Issue-male, sure
Will be born Counsellors; is't possible?
Thou shalt have another token out of hand for't;
Nay, since the way's found, pitty thou shouldst want, y'faith,
O my best joy, and dearest.
Worthy wise friend, I doat upon thy cunning,
We two shall be well matcht, our Issue-male, sure
Will be born Counsellors; is't possible?
Thou shalt have another token out of hand for't;
Nay, since the way's found, pitty thou shouldst want, y'faith,
O my best joy, and dearest.
Sir Greg. Marry call me slave, and rascal.
Neece. Your Scarfe—the Scarfe I gave you—
O. K. Mass that's true Neece,
I ne'er thought upon that; the Scarfe she gave you—Sir?
What dumb? No answer from you? the Scarfe?
I ne'er thought upon that; the Scarfe she gave you—Sir?
What dumb? No answer from you? the Scarfe?
Sir Greg. I was way-laid about it, my life threatned;
Life's life, Scarfe's but a Scarfe, and so I parted from't.
Life's life, Scarfe's but a Scarfe, and so I parted from't.
Neece. Unfortunate woman! my first favor too?
O. K. Will you be still an ass? no reconcilement
'Twixt you and wit? Are you so far fallen out,
You'l never come together? I tell you true,
I'm very lowsily asham'd on you,
That's the worst shame that can be;
Thus bayting on him: now his heart's hook't in,
I'll make him, e'er I ha' done, take her with nothing,
I love a man that lives by his wits alife;
Nay leave, sweet Neece, 'tis but a Scarfe, let it go.
'Twixt you and wit? Are you so far fallen out,
You'l never come together? I tell you true,
I'm very lowsily asham'd on you,
That's the worst shame that can be;
Thus bayting on him: now his heart's hook't in,
I'll make him, e'er I ha' done, take her with nothing,
I love a man that lives by his wits alife;
Nay leave, sweet Neece, 'tis but a Scarfe, let it go.
Neece. The going of it never grieves me, Sir.
It is the manner, the manner—
It is the manner, the manner—
Sir Greg. O dissembling Marmaset! If I durst speak,
Or could be believ'd when I speak,
What a tale could I tell, to make hair stand upright now!
Or could be believ'd when I speak,
What a tale could I tell, to make hair stand upright now!
Neece. Nay, Sir, at your request you shall perceive, Uncle,
With what renewing love I forgive this:
Here's a fair Diamond, Sir, I'll try how long
You can keep that.
With what renewing love I forgive this:
Here's a fair Diamond, Sir, I'll try how long
You can keep that.
Sir Greg. Not very long, you know't too,
Like a cunning witch as you are.
Like a cunning witch as you are.
Neece. Y'are best let him ha' that too.
Sir Greg. So I were, I think, there were no living else,
I thank you, as you have handled the matter.
I thank you, as you have handled the matter.
O. K. Why this is musical now, and Tuesday next
Shall tune your Instruments, that's the day set.
Shall tune your Instruments, that's the day set.
Neece. A match, good Uncle.
O. K. Sir, you hear me too?
Sir Greg. Oh very well, I'm for you.
Neece. What e'er you hear, you know my mind.
[Exeunt Old Knight and Neece.
Sir Gre. I, a —— on't, too well, if I do not wonder how we two shall come together, I'm a Bear whelp? he talks of Tuesday next, as familiarly, as if we lov'd one another, but 'tis as unlikely to me, as 'twas seven year before I saw her; I shall try his cunning, it may be he has a way was never yet thought on, and it had need to be such a one, for all that I can think on will never do't; I look to have this Diamond taken from me very speedily, therefore I'll take it off o' my finger, for if it be seen, I shall be way-laid for that too. [Exit.
Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima.
Enter Old Knight, and Witty-pate.
O. K.
Oh torture! torture! thou carriest a sting i'thy tail,
Thou never brought'st good news i'thy life yet,
And that's an ill quality, leave it when thou wilt.
Oh torture! torture! thou carriest a sting i'thy tail,
Thou never brought'st good news i'thy life yet,
And that's an ill quality, leave it when thou wilt.
Witty. Why you receive a blessing the wrong way, Sir,
Call you not this good newes? to save at once Sir
Your credit and your kinsmans life together;
Would it not vex your peace, and gaule your worth?
T'have one of your name hang'd?
Call you not this good newes? to save at once Sir
Your credit and your kinsmans life together;
Would it not vex your peace, and gaule your worth?
T'have one of your name hang'd?
O. K. Peace, no such words, boy.
Wit. Be thankful for the blessing of prevention then.
O. K. Le' me see, there was none hang'd out of our house since Brute,
I ha' search't both Stow, and Hollinshead.
I ha' search't both Stow, and Hollinshead.
Wit. O Sir.
O. K. I'll see what Polychronicon sayes anon too.
Wit. 'Twas a miraculous fortune that I heard on't.
O. K. I would thou'dst never heard on't.
Wit. That's true too,
So it had ne'er been done; to see the luck on't,
He was ev'n brought to Justice Aurums threshold,
There had flew'n forth a Mittimus straight for Newgate;
And note the fortune too, Sessions a Thursday,
Jury cull'd out a Friday, Judgment a Saturday,
Dungeon a Sunday, Tyburne a Munday,
Miseries quotidian ague, when't begins once,
Every day pulls him, till he pull his last.
So it had ne'er been done; to see the luck on't,
He was ev'n brought to Justice Aurums threshold,
There had flew'n forth a Mittimus straight for Newgate;
And note the fortune too, Sessions a Thursday,
Jury cull'd out a Friday, Judgment a Saturday,
Dungeon a Sunday, Tyburne a Munday,
Miseries quotidian ague, when't begins once,
Every day pulls him, till he pull his last.
O. K. No more, I say, 'tis an ill theam: where left you him?
Wit. He's i'th' Constables hands below i'th' Hall, Sir,
Poor Gentleman, and his accuser with him.
Poor Gentleman, and his accuser with him.
O. K. What's he?
Wit. A Judges Son 'tis thought, so much the worse too,
He'l hang his enemy, an't shall cost him nothing,
That's a great priviledge.
He'l hang his enemy, an't shall cost him nothing,
That's a great priviledge.
O. K. Within there?
Enter Servant.
Ser. Sir?
O. K. Call up the folks i'th' Hall. I had such hope on him,
For a Scholar too, a thing thou ne'er wast fit for
Therefore erected all my joyes in him;
Got a Welch Benefice in reversion for him,
Dean of Cardigan, has his grace already,
He can marry and bury, yet ne'er a hair on's face;
For a Scholar too, a thing thou ne'er wast fit for
Therefore erected all my joyes in him;
Got a Welch Benefice in reversion for him,
Dean of Cardigan, has his grace already,
He can marry and bury, yet ne'er a hair on's face;
Enter Credulous, Sir Ruinous (as a Constable,) and Lady Gentry (as a Man.)
Like a French Vicar, and, Does he bring such fruits to Town with him?
A Thief at his first lighting? Oh good den to you.
A Thief at his first lighting? Oh good den to you.
Wit. Nay, sweet Sir, you'r so vext now, you'l grieve him,
And hurt your self.
And hurt your self.
O. K. Away, I'll hear no counsel;
Come you but once in seven year to your Uncle,
And at that time must you be brought home too?
And by a Constable?
Come you but once in seven year to your Uncle,
And at that time must you be brought home too?
And by a Constable?
Wit. Oh speak low, Sir,
Remember your own credit, you profess
You love a Man o'wit, begin at home, Sir,
Express it i'your self.
Remember your own credit, you profess
You love a Man o'wit, begin at home, Sir,
Express it i'your self.
Lady. Nay, Master Constable,
Shew your self a wise man, 'gainst your nature too.
Shew your self a wise man, 'gainst your nature too.
Ruin. Sir, no Dish-porridgment, we have brought home
As good men as ye.
As good men as ye.
O. K. Out, a North-Brittain Constable, that tongue
Will publish all, it speaks so broad already;
Are you the Gentleman.
Will publish all, it speaks so broad already;
Are you the Gentleman.
Lady. The unfortunate one, Sir,
That fell into the power of merciless Thieves,
Whereof this fellow, whom I'd call your kinsman,
As little as I could (for the fair reverence
I owe to fame and years) was the prime villain.
That fell into the power of merciless Thieves,
Whereof this fellow, whom I'd call your kinsman,
As little as I could (for the fair reverence
I owe to fame and years) was the prime villain.
O.K. A wicked prime.
Wit. Nay, not so loud, sweet father.
Lad. The rest are fled, but I shall meet with 'em,
Hang one of 'em I will certain, I ha' swore it,
And 'twas my luck to light upon this first.
Hang one of 'em I will certain, I ha' swore it,
And 'twas my luck to light upon this first.
O.K. A Cambridge man for this? these your degrees, Sir?
Nine years at University for this fellowship?
Nine years at University for this fellowship?
Wit. Take your voice lower, dear Sir.
O.K. What's your loss, Sir?
Lady. That which offends me to repeat, the Money's whole, Sir,
'Tis i'th' Constables hands there, a seal'd hundred,
But I will not receive it.
'Tis i'th' Constables hands there, a seal'd hundred,
But I will not receive it.
O.K. No? Not the Money, Sir,
Having confest 'tis all?
Having confest 'tis all?
Lady. 'Tis all the Money, Sir,
But 'tis not all I lost, for when they bound me,
They took a Diamond hung at my shirt string,
Which fear of life made me forget to hide;
It being the sparkling witness of a Contract,
'Twixt a great Lawyers daughter and my self.
But 'tis not all I lost, for when they bound me,
They took a Diamond hung at my shirt string,
Which fear of life made me forget to hide;
It being the sparkling witness of a Contract,
'Twixt a great Lawyers daughter and my self.
Wit. I told you what he was; What does the Diamond
Concern my Cozen, Sir?
Concern my Cozen, Sir?
Lady. No more did the Money,
But he shall answer all now.
But he shall answer all now.
Wit. There's your conscience,
It shewes from whence you sprung.
It shewes from whence you sprung.
Lady. Sprung? I had leapt a Thief,
Had I leapt some of your alliance.
Had I leapt some of your alliance.
Wit. Slave!
Lady. You prevent me still.
O.K. 'Slid, Son, Are you mad?
Lady. Come, come, I'll take a legal course.
O.K. Will you undo us all? What's your demand, Sir?
Now we're in's danger too.
Now we're in's danger too.
Witty. A hundred Rascals.
Lady. Sir, find 'em out in your own blood, and take 'em.
Wit. Go take your course, follow the Law, and spare not.
O. K. Does fury make you drunk? know you what you say?
Wit. A hundred dogs dungs, do your worst.
O. K. You do I'm sure; Whose loud now?
Wit. What his own asking?
O. K. Not in such a case?
Wit. You shall have but threescore pound; spite a your teeth,
I'll see you hang'd first.
I'll see you hang'd first.
O. K. And what's seven pound more man?
That all this coyle's about? stay, I say, he shall ha't.
That all this coyle's about? stay, I say, he shall ha't.
Wit. It is your own, you may do what you please with it;
Pardon my zeal, I would ha' sav'd you money;
Give him all his own asking?
Pardon my zeal, I would ha' sav'd you money;
Give him all his own asking?
O. K. What's that to you, Sir?
Be sparing of your own, teach me to pinch
In such a case as this? go, go, live by your wits, go.
Be sparing of your own, teach me to pinch
In such a case as this? go, go, live by your wits, go.
Wit. I practise all I can.
O. K. Follow you me, Sir,
And, Master Constable, come from the knave,
And be a witness of a full recompence.
And, Master Constable, come from the knave,
And be a witness of a full recompence.
Wit. Pray stop the Constables mouth, what ere you do Sir.
O. K. Yet agen? as if I meant not to do that my self,
Without your counsel? As for you, precious kinsman,
Your first years fruits in Wales shall go to rack for this,
You lie not in my house, I'll pack you out,
And pay for your lodging rather.
Without your counsel? As for you, precious kinsman,
Your first years fruits in Wales shall go to rack for this,
You lie not in my house, I'll pack you out,
And pay for your lodging rather.
[Exeunt Knight, Ruin, and Lady.
Witty. Oh fie Cozen,
These are ill courses, you a Scholar too?
These are ill courses, you a Scholar too?
Cred. I was drawn into't most unfortunately,
By filthy deboist company.
By filthy deboist company.
Wit. I, I, I.
'Tis even the spoil of all our youth in England.
What were they Gentlemen?
'Tis even the spoil of all our youth in England.
What were they Gentlemen?
Cred. Faith so like some on 'em,
They were ev'n the worse agen.
They were ev'n the worse agen.
Cred. Great Tobacco [swivers],
They would go near to rob with a pipe in their mouths.
They would go near to rob with a pipe in their mouths.
Wit. What, no?
Cred. Faith leave it Cozen, because my Rascals use it.
Wit. So they do meat and drink, must worthy Gentlemen
Refrain their food for that? an honest man
May eat of the same Pig some Parson dines with,
A Lawyer and a fool feed of one Woodcock,
Yet one ne'er the simpler, t'other ne'er the wiser;
'Tis not meat, drink, or smoak, dish, cup, or pipe,
Co-operates to the making of a Knave,
'Tis the condition makes a slave, a slave,
There's London Philosophy for you; I tell you Cozen,
You cannot be too cautelous, nice, or dainty,
In your society here, especially
When you come raw from the University,
Before the World has hard'ned you a little,
For as a butter'd loaf is a Scholars breakfast there,
So a poach't Scholar is a cheaters dinner here,
I ha' known seven of 'em supt up at a Meale.
Refrain their food for that? an honest man
May eat of the same Pig some Parson dines with,
A Lawyer and a fool feed of one Woodcock,
Yet one ne'er the simpler, t'other ne'er the wiser;
'Tis not meat, drink, or smoak, dish, cup, or pipe,
Co-operates to the making of a Knave,
'Tis the condition makes a slave, a slave,
There's London Philosophy for you; I tell you Cozen,
You cannot be too cautelous, nice, or dainty,
In your society here, especially
When you come raw from the University,
Before the World has hard'ned you a little,
For as a butter'd loaf is a Scholars breakfast there,
So a poach't Scholar is a cheaters dinner here,
I ha' known seven of 'em supt up at a Meale.
Cred. Why a poacht Scholar?
Wit. 'Cause he powres himself forth,
And all his secrets, at the first acquaintance,
Never so crafty to be eaten i'th' shell,
But is outstript of all he has at first,
And goes down glib, he's swallowed with sharp wit,
Stead of Wine Vinegar.
And all his secrets, at the first acquaintance,
Never so crafty to be eaten i'th' shell,
But is outstript of all he has at first,
And goes down glib, he's swallowed with sharp wit,
Stead of Wine Vinegar.
Cred. I shall think, Cozen,
O' your poach't Scholar, while I live.
O' your poach't Scholar, while I live.
Enter Servant.
Serv. Master Credulous,
Your Uncle wills you to forbear the House,
You must with me, I'm charg'd to see you plac'd
In some new lodging about Theeving Lane,
What the conceit's, I know not, but commands you
To be seen here no more, till you hear further.
Your Uncle wills you to forbear the House,
You must with me, I'm charg'd to see you plac'd
In some new lodging about Theeving Lane,
What the conceit's, I know not, but commands you
To be seen here no more, till you hear further.
Cred. Here's a strange welcome, Sir.
[Exit Cred. and Servant.
This is the happiest cheat I e'er claim'd share in,
It has a two-fold fortune, gets me coyne,
And puts him out of grace, that stood between me,
My fathers Cambridge Jewel, much suspected
To be his Heir, now there's a bar in's hopes.
It has a two-fold fortune, gets me coyne,
And puts him out of grace, that stood between me,
My fathers Cambridge Jewel, much suspected
To be his Heir, now there's a bar in's hopes.
Enter Ruinous, and Lady Gentry.
Ruin. It chinks, make haste.
Lady. The Goat at Smithfield Pens.
Enter Cunningame.
Wit. Zo, zo, zufficient. Master Cuningame?
I never have ill luck when I meet a wit.
I never have ill luck when I meet a wit.
Cun. A Wit's better to meet, than to follow then,
For I ha' none so good I can commend yet,
But commonly men unfortunate to themselves,
Are luckiest to their friends, and so may I be.
For I ha' none so good I can commend yet,
But commonly men unfortunate to themselves,
Are luckiest to their friends, and so may I be.
Wit. I run o'er so much worth, going but in haste from you,
All my deliberate friendship cannot equal.
All my deliberate friendship cannot equal.
Cun. 'Tis but to shew, that you can place sometimes,
Enter Mirabell.