SCENE V.
Mot. You’re welcome, sir.
Fol. Know you the young gentlewoman that went in lately?
Fol. O, in good time. I like the gentlewoman well; a pretty contrived beauty.
Mot. Ay, nature has done her part, sir.
Fol. But she has one uncomely quality.
Mot. What’s that, sir?
Fol. ’S foot, she’s afraid of a man.
Mot. True; and I have often told her so; but what would you have of a foolish virgin, sir, a wilful virgin? I tell you, sir, I need not have been in that solitary estate that I am, had she had grace and boldness to have put herself forward; always timorsome, always backward! Ah, that same peevish[875] honour of hers has undone her and me both, good gentleman! the suitors, the jewels, the jointures, that have[876] been offered her! we had been made women[877] for ever: but what was her fashion? she could not endure the sight of a man, forsooth, but run and hole[878] herself presently. So choice of her honour, I am persuaded, whene’er she has husband,
Fol. Have you not so much power with her to command her presence?
Mot. You shall see straight what I can do, sir.
Fol. Would I might be hanged, if my love do not stretch to her deeper and deeper! Those bashful maiden humours take me prisoner. When there comes a restraint upon[880] flesh, we are always most greedy upon’t; and that makes your merchant’s wife oftentimes pay so dear for a mouthful. Give me a woman as she was made at first; simple of herself, without sophistication, like this wench: I cannot abide them when they have tricks, set speeches, and artful entertainments.
Mot. O yes, son, he’s a lusty old gentleman.
Fol. Ah, pox, he’s given to women! he keeps a quean at this present.
Mot. Fie!
Fol. Do not tell my wife on’t.
Mot. That were needless, i’faith.
Fol. He makes a great feast upon the eleventh of this month, Tuesday next, and you shall see players there—I have one trick more to put upon him. [Aside.]—My wife and yourself shall go thither before as my guests, and prove his entertainment: I’ll meet you there at night. The jest will be here; that feast which he makes will, unknown to him, serve fitly for our wedding-dinner: we shall be royally furnished, and get some charges by’t.
ACT V. SCENE I.
Sir B. Have a care, blue coats.[892] Bestir yourself, master Gumwater; cast an eye into th’ kitchen; o’erlook the knaves a little. Every Jack has his friend to-day; this cousin, and that cousin, puts in for a dish of meat: a man knows not, till he make a feast, how many varlets he feeds; acquaintances swarm in every corner, like flies at Bartholomew-tide, that come up with drovers; ’s foot, I think they smell my kitchen seven mile about.—
Master Harebrain,[893] and his sweet bedfellow! you’re very copiously welcome.
Har. Sir, here’s an especial dear friend of ours: we were bold to make his way to your table.
Sir B. Thanks for that boldness ever, good master Harebrain: is this your friend, sir?
Har. Both my wife’s friend and mine, sir.
Sir B. Why, then, compendiously, sir, you’re welcome.
Pen. B. In octavo I thank you, sir.
Sir B. Excellently retorted, i’faith! he’s welcome for’s wit: I have my sorts of salutes, and know how to place ’em courtly. Walk in, sweet gentlemen, walk in; there’s a good fire i’ th’ hall; you shall have my sweet company instantly.
Har. Ay, good sir Bounteous.
Sir B. You shall indeed, gentlemen. [Exeunt Harebrain, Mis. Harebrain, and Pen. Brothel.]
—How now? what news brings thee in stumbling now?
Sem. There are certain players come to town, sir, and desire to interlude before your worship.
Sir B. Players? by the mass, they are welcome; they’ll grace my entertainment well: but for certain players, there thou liest, boy; they were never more uncertain in their lives; now up, and now down; they know not when to play, where to play, nor what to play: not when to play, for fearful fools; where to play, for puritan fools; nor what to play, for critical fools. Go, call ’em in. [Exit Semus.]—How fitly the whoresons come upo’ th’ feast! troth, I was e’en wishing for ’em.
O welcome, welcome, my friends!
Sir B. Well acted, a’ my credit! I perceive he’s your best actor.
Sem. He has greatest share,[894] sir, and may live of himself, sir.
Sir B. What, what?—Put on your hat, sir, pray, put on; go to, wealth must be respected: let those that have least feathers stand bare. And whose men are you, I pray?—nay, keep on your hat still.
Fol. We serve my lord Owemuch, sir.
Sir B. My lord Owemuch? by my troth, the welcomest men alive! give me all your hands at once! That honourable gentleman, he lay at my house in a robbery once, and took all quietly, went away cheerfully: I made a very good feast for him: I never saw a man of honour bear things bravelier away. Serve my lord Owemuch? welcome, i’faith!—Some bastard[895] for my lord’s players! [Exit Semus, and returns with wine.]—Where be your[896] boys?
Fol. They come along with the waggon, sir.
Sir B. Good, good; and which is your politician amongst you? now, i’faith, he that works out restraints, makes best legs at court, and has a suit made of purpose for the company’s business; which is he? come, be not afraid of him.
Fol. I am he, sir.
Sir B. Art thou he? give me thy hand. Hark in thine ear: thou rollest too fast to gather so much moss as thy fellow there; champ upon that. Ah, and what play shall we have, my masters?
Fol. A pleasant, witty comedy, sir.
Sir B. Ay, ay, ay; a comedy in any case, that I and my guests may laugh a little: what’s the name on’t?
Fol. ’Tis called The Slip.
Sir B. The Slip? by my troth, a pretty name, and a glib one: go all, and slip into’t, as fast as you can. Cover a table for the players! First take heed of a lurcher; he cuts deep, he will eat up all from you.—Some sherry for my lord’s players there! Sirrah, why this will be a true feast, a right Mitre[897] supper, a play and all. [Exeunt Follywit, Mawworm, Hoboy, and others, with Semus.] More lights!
I called for light; here come in two are light enough for a whole house, i’faith. Dare the thief look me i’ th’ face? O impudent times! Go to, dissemble it!
Mot. Bless you, sir Bounteous!
Sir B. O welcome, welcome, thief, quean, and bawd! welcome all three!
Mot. Nay, here’s but two on’s, sir.
Sir B. ’A my troth, I took her for a couple; I’d have sworn there had been two faces there.
Mot. Not all under one hood, sir.
Cour. You’re past my reach.
Sir B. I’m old, and past your reach, very good; but you will not deny this, I trust.
Cour. With a safe conscience, sir.
Sir B. Yea? give me thy hand; fare thee[901] well.—I have done with her.[902]
Cour. Give me your hand, sir; you ne’er yet begun with me. [Exit.
Fol. Even upon readiness, sir.
Sir B. Keep you your hat on.
Fol. I have a suit to your worship.
Sir B. O, cry you mercy; then you must stand bare.
Fol. We could do all to the life of action, sir, both for the credit of your worship’s house, and the grace of our comedy——
Sir B. Cuds me, what else, sir?
Fol. And for some defects, as the custom is, we would be bold to require your worship’s assistance.
Sir B. Why, with all my heart; what is’t you want? speak.
Fol. One’s a chain for a justice’s hat, sir.
Sir B. Why, here, here, here, here, whoreson; will this serve your turn? [Giving chain.
Fol. Excellent well, sir.[904]
Sir B. What else lack you?
Fol. We should use a ring with a stone in’t.
Sir B. Nay, whoop, I have given too many rings already; talk no more of rings, I pray you: here, here, here, make this jewel serve for once. [Giving jewel.
Fol. O this will serve, sir.
Sir B. What, have you all now?
Fol. All now, sir; only Time is brought i’ th’ middle of the play, and I would desire your worship’s watch-time.
SCENE II.
Enter Sir Bounteous, Harebrain, Mis. Harebrain, Penitent Brothel, and other guests; Courtesan and Mother; Gumwater and Servants.
Har.[907] Have you players here, sir Bounteous?
Sir B. We have ’em for you, sir; fine nimble comedians, proper actors most of them.
Pen. B. Whose men, I pray you, sir?
Sir B. O, there’s their credit, sir! they serve an honourable popular gentleman, ycleped[908] my lord Owemuch.
Har. My lord Owemuch? he was in Ireland lately.
Sir B. O, you ne’er knew any of the name but were great travellers.
Har. How is the comedy called, sir Bounteous?
Sir B. Marry, sir, The Slip.
Har. The Slip?
Sir B. Ay, and here the prologue begins to slip in upon’s.
Har. ’Tis so indeed, sir Bounteous.
Sir B. Excellently well acted, and a nimble conceit!
Har. The prologue’s pretty, i’faith.
Pen. B. And went off well.
Sir B. Ay, that’s the grace of all, when they go away well, ah, hah![910]
Cour. A’ my troth, and[911] I were not married, I could find in my heart to fall in love with that player now, and send for him to a supper.[912] I know some i’ th’ town that have done as much, and there took such a good conceit of their parts into th’ two-penny room,[913] that the actors have been found i’ th’ morning in a less compass than their stage, though ’twere ne’er so full of gentlemen.[914]
Sir B. But, passion of me, where be these knaves? will they not come away? methinks they stay very long.
Pen. B. O, you must bear a little, sir; they have many shifts to run into.
Sir B. Shifts call you ’em? they’re horrible long things.
Fol. A pox of such fortune, the plot’s betrayed! all will come out! yonder they come, taken upon suspicion, and brought back by a constable. I was accursed to hold society with such coxcombs! what’s to be done? I shall be shamed for ever! My wife here, and all! ah, pox—by light, happily thought upon! the chain. Invention stick to me this once, and fail me ever hereafter! so, so——
Sir B. Life, I say, where be these players?—O, are you come? troth, it’s time; I was e’en sending for you.
Sir B. A[916] justice, upon my credit; I know by the chain there.
Fol. Unfortunate justice!
Sir B. Ah—a—a—
Sir B. A very explete justice!
Con. [within] Thank you, good neighbours; let me alone with ’em now.
Maw. ’S foot, who’s yonder?
Hob. Dare he sit there?
Third C. Follywit!
Fourth C. Captain! pooh—
Fol. How now, constable? what news with thee?
Con. May it please your worship, sir, here are a company of auspicious fellows.
Sir B. To me? pooh, turn to th’ justice, you whoreson hobby-horse!—This is some new player now; they put all their fools to the constable’s part still.
Fol. What’s the matter, constable? what’s the matter?
Con. I have nothing to say to your worship.—They were all riding a’ horseback, an’t please your worship.
Sir B. Yet again? a pox of all asses still! they could not ride a’ foot, unless ’twere in a bawdy-house.
Con. The ostler told me they were all unstable fellows, sir.
Fol. Why, sure the fellow’s drunk?