Aurelia, Dorcas.
Aur. Why, we shall have you get in time the turn-
Up of your eyes, speak in the nose, draw sighs
Of an ell long, and rail at discipline.
Would I could hear from Bannswright! Ere I'll be tortur'd
With your preciseness thus, I'll get dry palms
With starching, and put on my smocks myself.
Dor. Surely you may, and air 'em too: there have been
Very devout and holy women that wore
No shift at all.
Aur. Such saints, you mean, as wore
Their congregations, and swarm'd with Christian vermin.
You'll hold clean linen heresy?
Dor. Surely, yes,
Clean linen in a surplice: that and powders
Do bring dry summers, make the sickness rage,
And the enemy prevail. It was reveal'd
To Mistress Scruple and her husband, who
Do verily ascribe the German war
And the late persecutions to curling,
False teeth, and oil of talc.[194]
Aur. Now she is in,
A lecturer will sooner hold his peace
Than she.
Dor. And surely, as Master Scruple says——
Aur. That was her schoolmaster; one that cools a feast
With his long grace, and sooner eats a capon,
Than blesses it.
Dor. And proves it very well,
Out of a book that suffer'd martyrdom[195]
By fire in Cheapside; since amulets and bracelets,
And love-locks, were in use, the price of sprats,
Jerusalem artichokes, and Holland cheese,
Is very much increased: so that the brethren—
Botchers I mean, and such poor zealous saints
As earn five groats a week under a stall,
By singing psalms, and drawing up of holes,
Can't live in their vocation, but are fain
To turn——
Aur. Old breeches.
Dor. Surely, teachers and prophets.
SCENE II.
Enter Bannswright.
Aur. O Master Bannswright, are you come!
My woman
Was in her preaching fit: she only wanted
A table's end.
Ban. Why, what's the matter?
Aur. Never
Poor lady had so much unbred holiness
About her person; I am never dress'd
Without a sermon; but am forc'd to prove
The lawfulness of curling-irons, before
She'll crisp me in a morning. I must show
Text for the fashions of my gowns. She'll ask
Where jewels are commanded? or what lady
I' th' primitive times wore ropes of pearl or rubies?
She will urge councils for her little ruff,
Call'd in Northamptonshire;[196] and her whole service
Is a mere confutation of my clothes.
Ban. Why, madam, I assure you, time hath been,
However she be otherwise, when she had
A good quick wit, and would have made to a lady
A serviceable sinner.
Aur. She can't preserve
The gift, for which I took her; but, as though
She were inspir'd from Ipswich,[197] she will make
The Acts and Monuments in sweetmeats, quinces
Arraign'd and burnt at a stake: all my banquets
Are persecutions; Dioclesian's days
Are brought for entertainment, and we eat martyrs.
Ban. Madam, she is far gone.
Aur. Nay, sir, she is a Puritan at her needle too.
Ban. Indeed!
Aur. She works religious petticoats;[198] for flowers
She'll make church-histories. Her needle doth
So sanctify my cushionets; besides,
My smock-sleeves have such holy embroideries,
And are so learned, that I fear in time
All my apparel will be quoted by
Some pure instructor.[199] Yesterday I went
To see a lady that has a parrot: my woman,
While I was in discourse, converted the fowl;
And now it can speak nought but Knox's works;[200]
So there's a parrot lost.
Ban. Faith, madam, she
Was earnest to come to you. Had I known
Her mistress had so bred her, I would first
Have preferred her to New England.[201]
Dor. Surely, sir,
You promised me, when you did take my money,
To help me to a faithful service, a lady
That would be saved, not one that loves profane,
Unsanctified fashions.
Aur. Fly my sight,
You goody Hofman,[202] and keep your chamber, till
You can provide yourself some cure, or I
Will forthwith excommunicate your zeal,
And make you a silent waiting-woman.
Ban. Mistress Dorcas,
If you'll be usher to that holy, learned woman
That can heal broken shins, scald heads and th' itch,
Your schoolmistress; that can expound, and teaches
To knit in Chaldee, and work Hebrew samplers,
I'll help you back again.
Dor. The motion, sure, is good,
And I will ponder of it. [Exit Dorcas.
Aur. From thy zeal,
The frantic ladies' judgments, and Histriomastix,[203]
Deliver me! This was of your preferring;
You must needs help me to another.
Ban. How
Would you desire her qualified? deformed
And crooked? like some ladies who do wear
Their women like black patches, to set them off?
Aur. I need no foil, nor shall I think I'm white
Only between two Moors; or that my nose
Stands wrong, because my woman's doth stand right.
Ban. But you would have her secret, able to keep
Strange sights from th' knowledge of your knight, when you
Are married, madam; of a quick-feigning head?
Aur. You wrong me, Bannswright: she whom I would have
Must to her handsome shape have virtue too.
Ban. Well, madam, I shall fit you. I do know
A choleric lady which, within these three weeks,
Has, for not cutting her corns well, put off
Three women; and is now about to part
With the fourth—just one of your description.
Next change o' th' moon or weather, when her feet
Do ache again, I do believe I shall
Pleasure your ladyship.
Aur. Expect your reward. [Exit Bannswright.
SCENE III.
Enter Bright, Newcut, Timothy, Plotwell.
Tim. Lady, let me taste the Elysium of your lips.
Aur. Why, what are you? You will not leap me, sir?
Pray, know your distance.
Tim. What am I, sweet lady?
My father is an alderman's fellow; and I
Hope to be one in time.
Aur. Then, sir, in time
You may be remembered at the quenching of
Fir'd houses, when the bells ring backward,[204] by
Your name upon the buckets.[205]
Tim. Nay, they say
You have a good wit, lady, and I can find it
As soon as another. I in my time have been
O' th' university, and should have been a scholar.
Aur. By the size of your wit, sir, had you kept
To that profession, I can foresee
You would have been a great persecutor of nature
And great consumer of rush candles, with
As small success as if a tortoise should
Day and night practise to run races. Having
Contemplated yourself into ill-looks,
In pity to so much affliction,
You might ha' pass'd for learned; and't may be,
If you had fallen out with the Muses, and
'Scap'd poetry, you might have risen to scarlet.
Tim. Here's a rare lady with all my heart. By this
Light, gentlemen, now have I no more language
Than a dumb parrot. A little more, she'll jeer me
Into a fellow that turns upon his toe
In a steeple, and strikes quarters![206]
Bright. And why should you
Be now so dainty of your lips? Verily,
They are not virgins: they have tasted man.
Aur. And may again; but then I'll be secur'd
For the sweet air o' th' parties. If you
Will bring it me confirm'd under the hands
Of four sufficient ladies, that you are
Clean men, you may chance kiss my woman.
New. Lady,
Our lips are made of the same clay that yours [are,]
And have not been refused.
Aur. 'Tis right, you are
Two inns-of-court men.
Bright. Yes, what then?
Aur. Known Cladders[207]
Through all the town.
Bright. Cladders?
Aur. Yes, catholic lovers,
From country madams to your glover's wife,
Or laundress;[208] will not let poor gentlewomen
Take physic quietly, but disturb their pills
From operation with your untaught visits;
Or, if they be employ'd, contrive small plots
Below stairs with the chambermaid; commend
Her fragrant breath, which five yards off salutes,
At four deflow'rs a rose, at three kills spiders.
New. What dangerous truths these are!
Aur. Ravish a lock
From the yellow waiting-woman; use stratagems
To get her silver whistle, and waylay
Her pewter-knots or bodkin.
New. Pretty, pretty!
Bright. You think you have abus'd us now?
Aur. I'll tell you:
Had I in all the world but forty mark,
And that got by my needle, and making socks,
And were that forty mark mill'd sixpences,
Spur-royals, Harry-groats,[209] or such odd coin
Of husbandry, as in the king's reign now
Would never pass, I would despise you.
New. Lady,
Your wit will make you die a wither'd virgin.
Bright. We shall in time, when your most tyrant tongue
Hath made this house a wilderness, and you
As unfrequented as a statesman fallen;
When you shall quarrel with your face and glass,
Till from your pencil you have rais'd new cheeks—
See you beg suitors, write bills o'er your door:
"Here is an ancient lady to be let."
New. You think you are handsome now, and that your eyes
Make star-shooting, and dart.[210]
Aur. 'T may be I do.
New. May I not prosper if I have not seen
A better face in signs or gingerbread.
Tim. Yes, I for twopence oft have bought a better.
Bright. What a sweet, innocent look you have!
Plot. Fie, gentlemen,
Abuse a harmless lady thus! I can't
With patience hear your blasphemies. Make me
Your second, madam.
Tim. And make me your third.
Aur. O prodigy, to hear an image speak!
Why, sir, I took you for a mute i' th' hangings.
I'll tell the faces.
Tim. Gentlemen, do I
Look like one of them Trojans?[211]
Aur. 'tis So; Your Face
Is missing here, sir; pray, step back again,
And fill the number. You, I hope, have more
Truth in you than to filch yourself away,
And leave my room unfurnish'd.
Plot. By this light
She'll send for a constable straight, and apprehend him
For thievery.
Tim. Why, lady, do you think me
Wrought in a loom, some Dutch piece weav'd at Mortlake?[212]
Aur. Surely You Stood So Simply, Like a Man
Penning of recantations, that I suspected
Y' had been a part of the monopoly.
But now I know you have a tongue, and are
A very man, I'll think you only dull,
And pray for better utterance.
Plot. Lady, you make
Rash judgment of him; he was only struck
With admiration of your beauty.
Tim. Truly, and so I was.
Aur. Then you can wonder, sir?
Plot. Yes, when he sees such miracles as you.
Aur. And love me, can't you?
Tim. Love you! By this hand,
I'd love a dog of your sweet looks: I am
Enamour'd of you, lady.
Aur. Ha, ha, ha! now surely
I wonder you wear not a cap: your case
Requires warm things! I'll send you forth a caudle. [Exit.
Bright. The plague of rotten teeth, wrinkles, loud lungs,
Be with you, madam.
Tim. Had I now pen and ink,
If I were urg'd, I'd fain know whether I
In conscience ought not to set down myself
No wiser than I should be?
Plot. Gentlemen, how like you her wit?
Tim. Wit! I verily
Believe she was begotten by some wit;
And he that has her may beget plays on her.
New. Her wit had need be good, it finds her house.
Tim. Her house! 'tis able to find the court: if she
Be chaste to[213] all this wit, I do not think
But that she might be shown.
Bright. She speaks with salt,
And has a pretty scornfulness, which now
I've seen, I'm satisfied.
New. Come then away to Roseclap's.
Tim. Lead on; let us dine. This lady
Runs in my head still.
Enter a Footman.
Foot. Sir, my lady prays
You would dismiss your company; she has
Some business with you.
Plot. Gentlemen, walk softly; I'll overtake you.
Bright. Newcut, 'slight! her wit
Is come to private meetings!
New. Ay, I thought
She had some other virtues. Well, make haste,
We'll stay without; when thou hast done, inform us
What the rate is: if she be reasonable,
We'll be her customers.
Plot. Y' are merry, sir. [Exit Bright, Newcut, Timothy.
SCENE IV.
Enter Aurelia.
Plot. Nay, sister, you may enter; they are gone.
I did receive your ticket this morning. What!
You look the mine should run still?
Aur. O, you are
A careful brother to put me on a course
That draws the eyes o' th' town upon me, and makes me
Discourse for ordinaries, then leave me in't.
I will put off my ladyship, and return
To Mistress Holland, and to making shirts
And bands again.
Plot. I hope you will not.
Aur. I repent I left th' Exchange.
Plot. Faith, I should laugh
To see you there again, and there serve out
The rest of your indentures, by managing
Your needle well, and making nightcaps by
A chafing-dish in winter mornings, to keep
Your fingers pliant. How rarely 'twould become you
To run over all your shop to passengers
In a fine sale-tune!
Aur. What would you have me do?
D'ye think I'm the Dutch virgin, that could live
By th' scent of flowers?[214] Or that my family
Are descended of cameleons,
And can be kept with air? Is this the way
To get a husband; to be in danger to be
Shut up for house-rent, or to wear a gown
Out a whole fashion, or the same jewels twice?
Shortly my neighbours will commend my clothes
For lasting well, give them strange dates, and cry,
"Since your last gorget and the blazing star."
Plot. Prythee, excuse me, sister, I can now
Rain showers of silver into thy lap again.
My uncle's gone to sea, and has left me
The key to th' golden fleece. Thou shalt be still
A madam, Pen; and to maintain thy honour,
And to new-dub thee, take this. [Gives her a purse.
But, sister, I
Expected you ere this, out of the throng
Of suitors that frequent you, should have been
Made a true lady—not one in type or show.
I fear you are too scornful, look too high.
Aur. Faith, brother, 'tis no age to be put off
With empty education; few will make jointures
To wit or good parts. I may die a virgin,
When some old widow, which at every cough
Resigns some of her teeth, and every night
Puts off her leg as duly as French hood,
Scarce wears her own nose, hath no eyes but such
As she first bought in Broad Street, and every morning
Is put together like some instrument,
Having full coffers, shall be woo'd, and thought
A youthful bride.
Plot. Why, sister, will you like
A match of my projection? You do know
How ruinous our father's fortunes are.
Before he broke, you know, there was a contract
Between you and young Seathrift. What if I
Make it a wedding?
Aur. Marry a fool, in hope
To be a Lady Mayoress?
Plot. Why, sister, I
Could name good ladies that are fain to find
Wit for themselves and knights too.
Aur. I have heard
Of one, whose husband was so meek, to be
For need her gentleman-usher; and, while she
Made visits above stairs, would patiently
Find himself business at trey-trip[215] i' th' hall.
Plot. He's only city-bred; one month of your
Sharp conversation will refine him; besides,
How long will't be ere your dissembled state
Meet such another offer?
Aur. Well, brother, you shall dispose of my affections.
Plot. Then some time
This afternoon I'll bring him hither: do you
Provide the priest: your dining-room will serve
As well as the church.
Aur. I will expect you. [Exeunt several ways.
SCENE V.
Enter Captain Quartfield beating Roseclap;
Salewit and Millicent labouring to part them.
Quart. Sirrah, I'll beat you into air.
Rose. Good captain!
Quart. I will, by Hector.
Rose. Murder, murder, help!
Quart. You needy, shifting, cosening, breaking slave.
Mil. Nay, Master Salewit, help to part 'em.
Sale. Captain!
Quart. Ask me for money? dog!
Rose. O, I am kill'd!
Mil. Help, help!
Sale. Nay, captain.
Quart. Men of my coat pay!
Mil. I'll call in neighbours. Murder, murder!
Quart. Rascal,
I'll make you trust, and offer me petitions
To go o' th' score.
Rose. Good: 'tis very good.
Mil. How does thy head, sweetheart?
Rose. Away, be quiet, Millicent.
Sale. Roseclap, you'll never leave this: I did tell you,
Last time the captain beat you, what a lion
He is, being ask'd for reckonings.
Mil. So you did,
Indeed, good Master Salewit; yet you must
Ever be foolish, husband.
Sale. What if we
Do owe you money, sir; is't fit for you
To ask it?
Rose. Well, Sir, There Is Law. I Say
No more, but there is law.
Quart. What law, you cur?
The law of nature, custom, arms, and nations,
Frees men of war from payments.
Rose. Yes, your arms, captain; none else.
Quart. No soldiers ought to pay.
Sale. Nor poets:
All void of money are privileged.
Mil. What would you have?
Captains and poets, Master Salewit says,
Must never pay.
Sale. No, nor be ask'd for money.
Rose. Still, I say, there is law.
Quart. Say that again,
And, by Bellona, I will cut thy throat.
Mil. You long to see your brains out.
Quart. Why, you mongrel,
You John-of-all-trades, have we been your guests
Since you first kept a tavern; when you had
The face and impudence to hang a bush
Out to three pints of claret, two of sack,
In all the world?
Sale. After that, when you broke,
Did we here find you out, custom'd your house,
And help'd away your victuals, which had else
Lain mouldy on your hands?
Rose. You did indeed,
And never paid for't. I do not deny,
But you have been my customers these two years;
My jack went not, nor chimney smok'd without you.
I will go farther; your two mouths have been
Two as good eating mouths as need to come
Within my doors; as curious to be pleased,
As if you still had eaten with ready money;
Had still the meats in season; still drank more
Than your ordinary came to.
Sale. And your conscience now
Would have this paid for?
Rose. Surely, so I take it.
Sale. Was ever the like heard?
Quart. 'Tis most unreasonable;
He has a harden'd conscience. Sirrah cheater,
You would be question'd for your reckonings, rogue.
Rose. Do you inform?
Quart. I hear one o' th' sheriffs
Paid for the boiling of a carp a mark.
Sale. Most unheard-of exactions!
Rose. Yet surely, captain,
No man had cheaper reckonings than yourself
And Master Salewit here.
Quart. How cheap?
Rose. I say
No more, good captain; not to pay is cheap,
A man would think.
Quart. Sir, don't you reckon air,
And make it dear to breathe in your house, and put
The nose to charges?
Rose. Right; perfum'd air, captain.
Quart. Is not the standing of the salt an item,
And placing of the bread?
Rose. A new way, captain.
Quart. Is not the folding of your napkins brought
Into the bill?
Rose. Pinch'd napkins, captain, and laid
Like fishes, fowls, or faces.
Sale. Then remember
How you rate salads, Roseclap; one may buy
Gardens as cheap.
Rose. Yes, Master Salewit, salads
Taken from Euclid, made in diagrams,
And to be eaten in figures.
Quart. And we must pay for your inventions, sir?
Rose. Or you are damn'd:
Good captain, you have sworn to pay this twelvemonth.
Quart. Peace! you loud, bawling cur; do you disgrace me
Before these gallants? See if I don't kill you.
SCENE VI.
Enter Bright, Newcut, Timothy, Plotwell.
Bright. Save you, Captain Quartfield, and my brave wit,
My man of Helicon. Salute this gentleman,
He is a city wit.
New. A corporation went to the bringing of him forth.
Quart. I embrace him.
Sale. And so do I.
Tim. You are a poet, sir,
And can make verses, I hear?
Sale. Sir, I am
A servant to the Muses.
Tim. I have made
Some speeches, sir, in verse, which have been spoke
By a green Robin Goodfellow from Cheapside conduit,[216]
To my father's company, and mean this afternoon
To make an epithalamium upon my wedding.
A lady fell in love with me this morning:
Ask Master Francis here.
Plot. Heart! you spoil all.
Did not I charge you to be silent?
Tim. That's true;
I had forgot. You are a captain, sir?
Quart. I have seen service, sir.
Tim. Captain, I love
Men of the sword and buff; and if need were,
I can roar too, and hope to swear in time,
Do you see, captain?
Plot. Nay, captain, we have brought you
A gentleman of valour, who has been
In Moorfields often: marry, it has been
To 'squire his sisters, and demolish custards
At Pimlico.[217] [Timothy walks aside.
Quart. Afore me, Master Plotwell;
I never hop'd to see you in silk again.
Sale. I look'd the next Lord Mayor's day to see you o' th' livery,
Or one o' th' bachelor whifflers.[218]
Quart. What, is your uncle dead?
Plot. He may in time: he's gone
To sea this morning, captain; and I am come
Into your order again. But hark you, captain,
What think you of a fish now?
Quart. Mad wags, mad wags.
Bright. By Heaven, it's true. Here we have brought one with us.
New. Rich Seathrift's son: he'll make a rare sea-monster.
Quart. And shall's be merry, i' faith?
Bright. Salewit shall make a song upon him.
New. And Roseclap's boy shall sing it.
Sale. We have the properties of the last fish.[219]
Quart. And if I
At dinner do not give him sea enough,
And afterwards, if I and Salewit do not
Show him much better than he that shows the Tombs,
Let me be turned into a sword-fish myself.
Plot. A natural change for a captain! How now, Roseclap,
Pensive, and cursing the long vacation?
Thou look'st as if thou mean'st to break shortly.
Rose. Ask the captain why I am sad?
Quart. Faith, gentlemen,
I disciplin'd him for his rudeness.
Plot. Why, these
Are judgments, Roseclap, for dear reckonings.
Tim. Art thou the half-crown fellow of the house?
Rose. Sir, I do keep the ordinary.
Tim. Let's have wine enough;
I mean to drink a health to a lady.
Plot. Still
Will you betray your fortune? One of them
Will go and tell her who you are, and spoil
The marriage.
Tim. No; peace! Gentlemen, if you'll
Go in, we'll follow.
Rose. Please you enter, dinner
Shall straight be set upon the board.
Bright. We'll expect you. Come, gentlemen.
[Exeunt Bright, Newcut, Salewit, Quartfield,
and Roseclap.