Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.
Enter Montague, and Charlotte.
Charl. Well now I am sure you are mine.
Mont. I am sure I am glad
I have one to own then; you'll find me honest
As these days go, enough; poor without question,
Which beggars hold a virtue; give me meat, and I
Shall do my work, else knock my shooes off,
And turn me out again.
Char. You are a merry fellow.
Mont. I have no great cause.
Char. Yes, thy love to me.
Mont. That's as we make our game.
Char. Why, you repent then?
Mont. Faith no worse than I am I cannot be;
Much better I expect not: I shall love you,
And when you bid me go to bed, obey,
Lie still or move, as you shall minister;
Keep a four-Nobles Nag, and a Jack
Merling, learn to love Ale, and play at Two-hand Irish,
And there's then all I aim at.
Char. Nay sweet fellow, I'll make it something better.
Mont. If you do, you'll make me worse:
Now I am poor, and willing to do well,
Hold me in that course; of all the Kings creatures,
I hate his coin, keep me from that, and save me;
For if you chance out of your housewivery
To leave a hundred pound or two, bestow it
In Plumb-broth e'r I know it, else I take it;
Seek out a hundred men that want this money,
Share it among 'em, they'll cry noble Montague,
And so I stand again at livery.
Char. You have pretty fancies, Sir, but married once,
This charity will fall home to your self.
Mont. I would it would, I am afraid my looseness
Is yet scarce stopt, though it have nought to work on
But the meer air of what I have had.
Char. Pretty.
Mont. I wonder sweet heart why you'll marry me,
I can see nothing in my self deserves it,
Unless the handsome wearing of a band,
For that's my stock now, or a pair of garters;
Necessity will not let me loose.
Char. I see Sir, a great deal more, a handsome man, a Husband,
To make a right good woman truly happy.
Mont. Lord, where are my eyes, either you are foolish
As wenches once a year are, or far worse,
Extreamly virtuous, can you love a poor man
That relies on cold meat, and cast stockings,
One only suit to his back, which now is mewing?
But what will be the next coat will pose Tristram.
If I should leavy from my friends a fortune:
I could not raise ten groats to pay the Priest now.
Char. I'll do that duty; 'tis not means nor money
Makes me pursue your love; were your mind bankrupt,
I would never love you.
Enter Lamira.
Mont. Peace wench, here's my Lady.
Lam. Nay, never shrink i'th' wetting, for my presence;
D'ye find her willing Montague?
Mont. Willing Madam?
Lam. How dainty you make of it, do not I know
You two love one another?
Mont. Certain Madam, I think ye'ave revelations of these matters:
Your Ladyship cannot tell me when I kist her.
Lam. But she can, Sir.
Mont. But she will not Madam;
For when they talk once, 'tis like Fairy-Money,
They get no more close kisses.
Mont. [God] knows I need not, yet I would be lusty:
But —— my Provender scarce pricks me.
Lam. It shall be mended Montague, I am glad you are
grown so merry.
Mont. So am I too Madam.
Lam. You two will make a pretty handsome Consort.
Mont. Yes Madam, if my Fiddle fail me not.
Lam. Your Fiddle? why your Fiddle? I warrant thou
meanest madly:
Mont. Can you blame me? alas I am in love.
Char. 'Tis very well, Sir.
Lam. How long have you been thus?
Mont. How thus in love?
Lam. You are very quick, Sir: no, I mean thus pleasant.
Mont. —Ever since I was poor.
Lam. A little wealth would change you then?
Mont. Yes Lady, into another suit, but never more
Into another man: I'll bar that mainly,
The wealth I get hence-forward shall be charm'd
For ever hurting me, I'll spend it fasting:
As I live noble Lady, there is nothing
I have found directly, cures the melancholy,
But want and wedlock; when I had store of money,
I simper'd sometime, and spoke wondrous wise,
But never laught out-right; now I am empty,
My heart sounds like a Bell, and strikes at both sides.
Lam. You are finely temper'd, Montague.
Mont. Pardon Lady, if any way my free mirth have offended,
'Twas meant to please you: if it prove too saucy,
Give it a frown, and I am ever silenc'd.
Lam. I like it passing well; pray follow it:
This is my day of choice, and shall be yours too,
'Twere pity to delay ye: call to the Steward,
And tell him 'tis my pleasure he should give you
Five hundred Crowns: make your self handsome Montague,
Let none wear better cloaths, 'tis for my credit;
But pray be merry still.
Mont. If I be not, and make a fool of twice as many hundreds,
Clap me in Canvas, Lady. [Exeunt.
Enter La-poop, Laverdine, and Malycorne.
Lav. I am strangely glad, I have found the mystery
Of this disguised boy out: I ever trusted
It was a woman; and how happily
I have found it so; and for my self, I am sure,
One that would offer me a thousand pound now
(And that's a pretty sum to make one stagger)
In ready Gold for this concealment, could not
Buy my hope of her, she's a dainty wench,
And such a one I find I want extreamly,
To bring me into credit: beauty does it.
Mal. Say we should all meach here, and stay the Feast,
now, what can the worst be? we have plaid the knaves,
that's without question.
La-p. True, and as I take it, this is the first truth
We told these ten years, and for any thing
I know, may be the last: but grant we are knaves,
Both base and beastly knaves—
Mal. Say so then.
Lav. Well.
La-p. And likewise let it be considered, we have wrong'd,
And most maliciously, this Gentlewoman
We cast to stay with, what must we expect now?
Mal. I, there's the point, we would expect good eating.
La-p. I know we would, but we may find good beating.
Lav. You say true Gentlemen, and by——
Though I love meat as well as any man,
I care not what he be, if a eat a Gods name;
Such a crab-sauce to my meat will turn my pallate.
Mal. There's all the hazard, for the frozen Montague
Has now got spring again, and warmth in him,
And without doubt, dares beat us terribly.
For not to mint the matter, we are cowards,
And have, and shall be beaten, when men please
To call us into cudgeling.
La-p. I feel we are very prone that way.
Lav. The sons of Adam.
La-p. Now, here then rests the state o'th' question;
Whether we yield our bodies for a dinner
To a sound dog-whip, for I promise ye,
If men be given to correction,
We can expect no less; or quietly
Take a hard Egg or two, and ten mile hence
Bait in a ditch, this we may do securely;
For, to stay hereabout will be all one,
If once our moral mischiefs come in memory.
Mal. But pray ye hear me, is not this the day
The Virgin Lady doth elect her Husband?
Lav. The dinner is to that end.
Mal. Very well then, say we all stay, and say we all
scape this whipping, and be well entertained, and one of us
carry the Lady.
La-p. 'Tis a seemly saying, I must confess, but if we stay, how fitly
We may apply it to our selves (i'th' end)
Will ask a Christian fear; I cannot see,
If I say true, what special ornaments
Of Art or Nature, (lay aside our lying
Whoring and drinking, which are no great virtues)
We are endued withal, to win this Lady.
Mal. Yet Women go not by the best parts ever; that
I have found directly.
Lav. Why should we fear then? they choose men
As they feed; sometimes they settle
Upon a White broth'd face, a sweet smooth gallant,
And him they make an end of in a night;
Sometimes a Goose, sometimes a grosser meat,
A rump of Beef will serve 'em at some season,
And fill their bellies too, though without doubt
They are great devourers: Stock-fish is a dish,
If it be well drest, for the tuffness sake
Will make the proud'st of 'em long and leap for't.
They'll run mad for a Pudding, e'r they'll starve.
La-p. For my own part I care not, come what can come,
If I be whipt, why so be it; if cudgell'd,
I hope I shall out-live it, I am sure
'Tis not the hundredth time I have been serv'd so,
And yet I thank [God] I am here.
Mal. Here's resolution.
La-p. A little patience, and a rotten Apple
Cures twenty worse diseases; what say you, Sir?
Lav. Marry I say Sir, if I had been acquainted
With lamming in my youth, as you have been
With whipping, and such benefits of nature,
I should do better: as I am, I'll venture,
And if it be my luck to have the Lady,
I'll use my fortune modestly; if beaten,
You shall not hear a word, one I am sure of,
And if the worst fall, she shall be my Physick.
Lets go then, and a merry wind be with us.
Mal. Captain, your shooes are old, pray put 'em off,
And let one fling 'em after us; be bold, Sirs,
And howsoever our fortune falls, lets bear
An equal burden; if there be an odd lash,
We'll part it afterwards.
La-p. I am arm'd at all points. [Exeunt.
Enter four serving in a Banquet.
1. Then my Lady will have a bedfellow to night.
2. So she says; Heaven! what a dainty arm-full shall
he enjoy, that has the launching of her, what a fight she'll
make.
3. I marry boys, there will be sport indeed, there will
be grapling, she has a murderer lies in her prow,
I am afraid will fright his main Mast, Robin.
4. Who dost thou think shall have her of thy conscience,
thou art a wise man?
3. If she go the old way, the way of lot, the longest
cut sweeps all without question.
1. She has lost a friend of me else; what think ye of
the Courtier?
2. Hang him Hedge-hog: h'as nothing in him but a
piece of Euphues, and twenty dozen of twelvepenny ribond,
all about him, he is but one Pedlers shop of Gloves and
Garters, pick-teeth and pomander.
3. The Courtier, marry God bless her Steven, she is not
mad yet, she knows that trindle-tail too well, he's crestfall'n,
and pin-buttock't, with leaping Landresses.
4. The Merchant, sure she will not be so base to have
him.
1. I hope so Robin, he'll sell us all to the Moors to make
Mummy; nor the Captain.
4. Who Potgun? that's a sweet youth indeed, will he
stay, think ye?
3. Yes, without question, and have halfe din'd too, e'r
the Grace be done; he's good for nothing in the world but
eating, lying and sleeping; what other men devour in drink,
he takes in potage, they say h'as been at Sea, a Herring-fishing,
for without doubt he dares not hale an Eel-boat i'th'
way of War.
2. I think so, they would beat him off with Butter.
3. When he brings in a prize, unless it be Cockles, or
Callis sand to scour with, I'll renounce my Five Mark a year,
and all the hidden Art I have in carving, to teach young
Birds to whistle Walsingham; leave him to the Lime-Boats;
now, what think you of the brave Amiens?
1. That's a thought indeed.
2. I marry, there's a person fit to feed upon a dish so
dainty, and he'll do't I warrant him i'th' nick boys, has a
body world without end.
4. And such a one my Lady will make no little of; but
is not Montague married to day?
3. Yes faith, honest Montague must have his bout too.
2. He's as good a lad as ever turn'd a trencher; must
we leave him?
3. He's too good for us, Steven, I'll give him health to
his good luck to night i'th' old Beaker, and it shall be Sack
too.
4. I must have a Garter; and boys I have bespoke a
Posset, some body shall give me thanks fort, 'tas a few toys
in't will rase commotions in a bed, lad.
1. Away; my Lady. [Exeunt.
Enter Orleance and his Lady, arm in arm, Amiens, Lamira,
Charlotte, like a Bride, Montague brave, Laverdine,
Longaville, Dubois, Mallycorn, La-poop.
Lam. Seat your selves noble Lords and Gentlemen,
You know your places; many royal welcomes
I give your Grace; how lovely shews this change!
My house is honor'd in this reconcilement.
Orl. Thus Madam must you do, my Lady now shall see
You made a Woman;
And give you some short lessons for your voyage.
Take her instructions Lady, she knows much.
Lam. This becomes you, Sir.
L[a]. My Lord must have his Will.
Orl. 'Tis all I can do now, sweet-heart, fair Lady;
This to your happy choice, brother Amiens,
You are the man I mean it to.
Ami. I'll pledge you.
Orl. And with my heart.
Ami. With all my love I take it.
Lam. Noble Lords, I am proud ye have done this day,
so much content, and me such estimation, that this hour
(In this poor house) shall be a league for ever,
For so I know ye mean it.
Ami. I do Lady.
Orl. And I my Lord.
Omnes. Y'ave done a work of honor.
Ami. Give me the Cup, where this health stops, let
That man be either very sick, or very simple;
Or I am very angry; Sir, to you;
Madam, methinks this Gentleman might sit too;
He would become the best on's.
Orl. Pray sit down, Sir, I know the Lady of the Feast
expects not this day so much old custom.
Ami. Sit down Montague; nay, never blush for the matter.
Mont. Noble Madam, I have t[w]o reasons [a]gainst it,
and I dare not; duty to you first, as you are my Lady, and I
your poorest servant; next the custom of this days ceremony.
Lam. As you are my servant, I may command you then.
Mont. To my life, Lady.
Lam. Sit down, and here, I'll have it so.
Ami. Sit down man, never refuse so fair a Ladies offer.
Mont. It is your pleasure, Madam, not my pride,
And I obey; I'll pledge ye now my Lord, Monsieur Longaville.
Long. I thank you, Sir.
Mont. This to my Lady, and her fair choice to day, and
happiness.
Lon. 'Tis a fair health, I'll pledge you though I sink for't.
Lam. Montague you are too modest; come, I'll add a
little more wine t'yee, 'twill make you merry, this to the
good I wish.——
Mont. Honour'd Lady, I shall forget my self with this
great bounty.
Lam. You shall not Sir, give him some Vine.
Ami. By Heaven you are a worthy woman, and that
Man is blest can come near such a Lady.
Lami. Such a blessing wet weather washes.
Mont. At all, I will not go a lip less, my Lord.
Orl. 'Tis well cast, Sir.
Mal. If Montague get more Wine, we are all like to
hear on't.
Lav. I do not like that sitting there.
Mal. Nor I, methinks he looks lik[e] a Judge.
La-p. Now have I a kind of grudging of a beating on
me, I fear my hot fit:
Mal. Drink apace, there's nothing allays a cudgel like it.
Lami. Montague, now I'll put my choice to you; who
do you hold in all this honor'd company a Husband fit to
enjoy thy Lady? speak directly.
Mont. Shall I speak, Madam?
Lami. Montague you shall.
Mont. Then as I have a soul, I'll speak my conscience,
Give me more Wine, in vino veritas,
Here's to my self, and Montague have a care.
Lami. Speak to th' cause.
Mont. Yes Madam, first I'll begin to thee.
Lav. Have at us.
La-p. Now for a Psalm of mercy.
Mont. You good Monsieur, you that belye the noble
name of Courtier, and think your claim good here, hold up
your hand; your Worship is endited here, for a vain glorious
fool.
Lav. Good, oh Sir.
Mont. For one whose wit
Lies in a ten pound wastcoat; yet not warm;
Ye have travell'd like a Fidler to make faces,
And brought home nothing but a case of tooth-picks.
You would be married, and no less than Ladies,
And of the best sort can serve you; thou Silk-worm,
What hast thou in thee to deserve this woman?
Name but the poorest piece of man, good manners,
There's nothing sound about thee, faith, th'ast none,
It lies pawn'd at thy Silk-man's, for so much Lace;
Thy credit with his wife cannot redeem it,
Thy cloaths are all the soul thou hast, for so
Thou sav'st them handsome for the next great tilting,
Let who will take the t'other, thou wert never christen'd
(Upon my conscience) but in Barbers water;
Thou art never out o'th' Bason, thou art rotten,
And if thou dar'st tell truth, thou wilt confess it;
—— Thy skin
Looks of a Chesnut colour, greaz'd with Amber,
All women that on earth do dwell, thou lov'st,
Yet none that understand love thee again,
But those that love the Spittle; get thee home
Poor painted Butter-flie, th[y] Summers past;
Go sweat, and eat dry Mutton, thou may'st live
To do so well yet; a bruis'd Chamber-Maid
May fall upon thee, and advance thy follies.
You have your sentence; now it follows Captain,
I treat of you.
La-p. Pray [God] I may deserve it.
Orl. Beshrew my heart, he speaks plain.
Ami. That's plain dealing.
Mont. You are a rascal Captain.
La-p. A fine Calling.
Mont. A Water-coward.
Ami. He would make a pretty stuff.
Mont. May I speak freely, Madam?
Lami. Here's none ties you.
Mont. Why shouldst thou dare come hither with a thought
To find a wife here fit for thee? are all
Thy single money whores that fed on Carrots,
And fill'd the high Grass with familiars
Fall'n off to Footmen; prethee tell me truly,
For now I know thou dar'st not lie, couldst thou not
Wish thy self beaten well with all thy heart now,
And out of pain? say that I broke a rib,
Or cut thy nose off, wer't not merciful for this ambition?
La-p. Do your pleasure, Sir, beggars must not be choosers.
Orl. He longs for beating.
Mont. But that I have nobler thoughts possess my soul,
Than such brown Bisket, such a piece of Dog-fish,
Such a most maungy Mackril eater as thou art,
That dares do nothing that belongs to th' Sea,
But spue, and catch Rats, and fear men of War,
Though thou hast nothing in the world to loose
Aboord thee, but one piece of Beef, one Musket
Without a cock for peace sake, and a Pitch-barrel,
I'll tell thee, if my time were not more pretious
Than thus to loose it, I would rattle thee,
It may be beat thee, and thy pure fellow,
The Merchant there of Catskins, till my words,
Or blows, or both, made ye two branded wretches
To all the world hereafter; you would fain to
Venture your Bils of lading for this Lady;
What would you give now for her? some five frayl
Of rotten Figs, good Godson, would you not, Sir?
Or a Parrot that speaks High Dutch? can all thou ever saw'st
Of thine own fraughts from Sea, or cosenage
(At which thou art as expert as the Devil)
Nay, sell thy soul for wealth to, as thou wilt do,
Forfeit thy friends, and raise a mint of Money,
Make thee dream all these double, could procure
A kiss from this good Lady? canst thou hope
She would lye with such a nook of Hell as thou art,
And hatch young Merchant-furies? oh ye dog-bolts!
That fear no [God] but Dunkirk, I shall see you
Serve in a lowsy Lime-boat, e'r I dye,
For mouldy Cheese and Butter, Billingsgate
Would not endure, or bring in rotten Pippins
To cure blew eyes, and swear they came from China.
Lami. Vex 'em no more, alas they shake:
Mont. Down quickly on your marrow-bones, and thank this Lady.
I would not leave you thus else, there are blankets,
And such delights for such knaves; but fear still;
'Twill be revenge enough to keep you waking.
Ye have no mind of marriage, ha' ye?
La-p. Surely no great mind now.
Mont. Nor you.
Mal. Nor I, I take it.
Mont. Two eager suitors.
L[a]v. Troth 'tis wondrous hot, [God] bless us from him.
Lami. You have told me Montag[u]e
Who are not fit to have me, let me know
The man you would point out for me.
Mont. There he sits; my Lord of Amiens, Madam, is
my choice, he's noble every way, and worthy a wife with
all the dowries of—
Ami. Do you speak Sir, out of your friendship to me?
Mont. Yes my Lord, and out of truth, for I could never flatter.
Ami. I would not say how much I owe you for it,
For that were but a promise, but I'll thank ye,
As now I find you, in despite of fortune,
A fair and noble Gentleman.
Lami. My Lords, I must confess the choice this man hath made
Is every way a great one, if not too great,
And no way to be slighted: yet because
We love to have our own eyes sometimes n[o]w,
Give me a little liberty to see,
How I could fit my self, if I were put to't.
Ami. Madam we must.
Lami. Are ye all agreed?
Omnes. We be.
Lami. Then as I am a Maid, I shall choose here.
Montague I must have thee.
Mont. Why Madam, I have learnt to suffer more
Than you can (out of pity) mock me with this way especially.
Lami. Thou think'st I jest now;
But by the love I bear thee, I will have thee.
Mont. If you could be so weak to love a fall'n man,
He must deserve more than I ever can,
Or ever shall (dear Lady;) look but this way
Upon that Lord, and you will tell me then
Your eyes are no true choosers of good men.
Ami. Do you love him truly?
Lam. Yes my Lord, I will obey him truly, for I'll marry
him, and justly think he that has so well serv'd me with his
obedience, being born to greatness, must use me nobly of
necessity, when I shall serve him.
Ami. 'Twere a deep sin to cross ye, noble Montague,
I wish ye all content, and am as happy
In my friends good as it were meerly mine.
Mont. Your Lordship does ill to give up your right;
I am not capable of this great goodness,
There sits my wife that holds my troth.
Cha. I'll end all, I wooed you for my Lady, and now
give up my Title, alas poor wench, my aims are lower far.
Mont. How's this sweet-heart?
Lami. Sweet-heart 'tis so, the drift was mine to hide
My purpose till it struck home.
Omnes. [God g]ive you joy.
Lami. Prethee leave wondring, by this kiss I'll have thee.
Mont. Then by this kiss, and this, I'll ever serve ye.
Long. This Gentleman and I Sir, must needs hope once
more to follow ye.
Mont. As friends and fellows, never as servants more.
Long. Dub. You make us happy.
Orl. Friend Montague, ye have taught me so much honor,
I have found a fault in my self, but thus I'll purge my conscience
of it, the late Land I took by false play, from you, with
as much contrition, and entireness of affection to this most
happy day again, I render; be master of your own, forget
my malice, and make me worthy of your love, L. Montague.
Mont. You have won me and honor to your name.
Mal. Since your Lordship has begun good deeds, we'll
follow; good Sir forgive us, we are now those men fear you
for goodness sake; those sums of money unjustly we detain
from you, on your pardon shall be restor'd again, and we
your servants.
La-p. You are very forward Sir, it seems you have money,
I pray you lay out, I'll pay you, or pray for you, as the
Sea works.
Lav. Their pennance Sir, I'll undertake, so please ye
To grant me one concealment.
Long. A right Courtier, still a begging.
Mont. What is it Sir?
Lav. A Gentlewoman.
Mont. In my gift?
Lav. Yes Sir, in yours.
Mont. Why, bring her forth, and take her.
Lami. What wench would he have?
Mont. Any wench I think.
Enter Laverdine and Veramour like a woman.
Lav. This is the Gentlewoman.
Mont. 'Tis my Page, Sir.
Ver. No Sir, I am a poor disguis'd Lady,
That like a Page have followed you full long for love god-wot.
Omnes. A Lady—Laverdine—yes, yes, 'tis a Lady.
Mont. It may be so, and yet we have lain together,
But by my troth I never found her, Lady.
L. Orl. Why wore you boys cloaths?
Ver. I'll tell you, Madam,
I took example by two or three Plays, that methought
Concerned me.
Mont. Why made you not me acquainted with it?
Ver. Indeed Sir, I knew it not my self,
Until this Gentleman open'd my dull eyes,
And by perswasion made me see it.
Ami. Could his power in words make such a change?
Ver. Yes, as truly woman as your self, my Lord.
Lav. Why, but hark you, are not you a woman?
Ver. If hands and face make it not evident, you shall see more.
Mai. Breeches, breeches, Laverdine.
La-p. 'Tis not enough, women may wear those cases.
Search further Courtier.
Omnes. Ha, ha, ha.
La-p. Oh thou fresh-water Gudgeon, wouldst thou come
To point of Marriage with an Ignoramus?
Thou shouldst have had her Urin to the Doctors,
The foolishest Physitian could have made plain
The liquid Epicæne; a blind man by the hand
Could have discovered the ring from the stone.
Boy, come, to Sea with me, I'll teach thee to climb,
And come down by the Rope, nay to eat Rats.
Ver. I shall devour my Master before the prison then,
Sir, I have began my Trade.
Mal. Trade? to the City, child, a flat-cap will become thee.
Mont. Gentlemen, I beseech you molest your selves no further,
For his preferment it is determin'd.
Lav. I am much ashamed, and if my cheek
Gives not satisfaction, break my head.
Mont. Your shame's enough, Sir.
Ami. Montague, much joy attend thy marriage-bed;
By thy example of true goodness, envy is exil'd,
And to all honest men that truth intend,
I wish good luck, fair fate be still thy friend. [Exeunt.