[Exit.

ACT II. SCENE I.

A Room in Primero’s House.
Enter Primero, meeting Mistress Newcut.

Pri. Mistress Newcut, welcome: here will be choice of gallants for you anon.

Mis. N. Is all clear? may I venture? am I not seen of the wicked?

Pri. Strange absurdity, that you should come into my house, and ask if you be not seen of the wicked! push![483] I take’t unkindly, i’faith: what think you of my house? ’tis no such common receptacle.

Mis. N. Forgive me, sweet master Primero: I can be content to have my pleasure as much as another, but I must have a care of my credit; I would not be seen; any thing else. My husband’s at sea, and a woman shall have an ill report in this world, let her carry herself never so secretly; you know’t, master Primero. And what choice of gallants be they? will they be proper gentlemen, think you?

Pri. Nay, sure they are as proper as they will be already.

Mis. N. I must have choice, you know; I come for no gain, but for sheer pleasure and affection.

Pri. You see your old spy-hole yonder; take your stand, please your own eye. I’ll work it soso the gallants shall present themselves before you, and in the most conspicuous fashion.

Mis. N. That’s all I can desire—till better come. [Aside.]—Look you.

Pri. What mean you, lady?

Mis. N. A trifle, sir, to buy you silver spurs:
Good sir, accept it. [Gives money, and exit.

Pri. Silver spurs? a pretty emblem! mark it; all her gifts are about riding still: the other day she sent me boot-hose wrought in silk and gold; now silver spurs. Well, go thy ways, thou’rt as profitable a spirit as e’er lighted into my house. Come, ladies, come, ’tis late; to music,—when?[484]

Enter Courtesans and Novice.
First C. You’re best command us, sir!—Our pimp’s grown proud.
Pri. To fools and strangers these are gentlewomen
Of sort and worship, knights’ heirs, great in portions,
Boarded here for their music;
And oftentimes ’tas been so cunningly carried,
That I have had two stolen away at once,
And married at Savoy,[485] and prov’d honest shopkeepers:
And I may safely swear they practis’d music;
They’re natural at prick-song. A small mist
Will dazzle a fool’s eye, and that’s the world:
So I can thump my hand upon the table
With an austere grace, and cry one, two, and three,
Fret, stamp, and curse, foh, ’twill pass well for me!
Enter Boy.

How now, sirrah?

Boy. They’re coming in, sir, and strangers in their company.

Pri. Tune apace, ladies.—Be ready for the song, sirrah.

Enter Goldstone, Pursenet, Frippery, Tailby, Fitsgrave disguised, and Bungler.

Gol. Nay, I beseech you, gallants, be more inward[486] with this gentleman; his parts deserve it.

Pur. Whence comes he, sir?

Gol. Piping hot[487] from the university; he smells of buttered loaves yet; an excellent scholar, but the arrantest ass! For this our solicitor, he’s a rare fellow five-and-forty mile hence, believe that: his friends are of the old fashion, all in their graves; and now has he the leisure to follow all new fashions, ply the brothels, practise salutes and cringes.

Pur. O!

Gol. Now, dear acquaintance,
I’ll bring you to see fashions.
Fit. What house is this, sir?
Gol. O, of great name: here music is profess’d;
Here sometimes ladies practise, and the meanest,
Daughters to men of worship,
Whom gentlemen, such as ourselves, may visit,
Court, clip,[488] and exercise our wits upon;
It is a profess’d courtesy.

Fit. A pretty recreation, i’faith!

Gol. I seldom saw so few here: you shall have ’em sometimes in every corner of the house, with their viols[489] betwixt their legs, and play the sweetest strokes; ’twould e’en filch your soul almost out of your bosom.

Fit. Pax[490] on’t, we spoil ourselves for want of these things at university.

Gol. You have no such natural happiness: let’s draw near.

Pri. Gentlemen, you are all most respectively[491] welcome.

Gol. We are bold and insatiate suitors, sir, to the breath of your music, and the dear sight of those ladies.

Pri. And what our poor skill can invite you to,
You’re[492] kindly welcome: you must pardon ’em, gentlemen,
Virgins and bashful, besides new beginners;
’Tis not a whole month since they were first enter’d.
Gol. Seven year in my knowledge. [Aside.
Pri. They blush at their very lessons; they’ll[493] not endure
To hear of a stop, a prick, or a semiquaver.
First C. O, out upon you!
Pri. La, I tell you;—you’ll bear me witness, gentlemen,
If their complaints come to their parents’ ears,
They’re words of art I teach ’em, nought but art.
Gol. Why, ’tis most certain.
Bun. For all scholars know that musica est ars.
All the C. O beastly word!
Pri. Look to the ladies, gentlemen.
Gol. Kiss again.
Pur. Come, another.
Tai. This [is] a good interim. [Exit.[494]

Pri. What have you done, sir?

Bun. Why, what have I done?

Pri. Saw you their stomachs queasy,[495] and come with such gross meat?

Bun. Why, is’t not Latin, sir?

Pri. Latin? why, then, let the next to’t be Latin too.

Pur. So, enough.

Gol. Nay, I can assure you thus far, I that never knew the language have heard so much that ars is Latin for art; and it may well be too, for there’s more art in’t now a-days than ever was.

Pri. Is’t possible?
I’m sorry then I’ve[496] followed it so far.
First C. A scholar call you him?
Pri. Music must not jar:
The offence is satisfied. Come, to the song;
Begin, sir.

[The song: and he[497] keeps time, shews several humours and moods: the Boy in his pocket nims away Fitsgrave’s jewel here, and exit.

Bun. Not a whole month since you were entered, ladies?
Fit. None that shall see their cunning will believe it. [Aside.
Pri. It is no affliction,[498] gentlemen.

Bun. I care not much, i’faith, if I write down to my father presently to send up my sister in all haste, that I may place her here at this music-school.

Mis. N. [peeping in] ’Slid, ’tis the fool my cousin! I would not for the value of three recreations he had seen me here.

Pri. How like you your new prize?

Fri. Pray, give me leave; I have not yet sufficiently admir’d her.

Pri. My wits[499] must not stand idle. ’Slife, he’s in a sick trance!

Gol. A cheat or two among these mistresses
Would not be ill bestow’d; I affect none,
But for my prey: such are their affections,
I know it; how could drabs and cheaters live else?
Then since the world rolls on dissimulation,
I’ll be the first dissembler. [Aside.
First C. Prithee, love, comfort, choice,
My only wish, in thee I am confin’d!
Deny me any thing, a slight chain of pearl?
Pur. Nay, and it[500] be but slight——
First C. Being denied,
I prize it slight; but given me by my love,
Light shall not be so dear unto my eye,
Mine eye unto the body, as the gift.
Pur. How have I power to deny this to you,
That command all? my fortunes are thy servants,
And thou the mistress both of them and me.
[Gives her the chain.
First C. The truest that e’er breath’d!
Gol. To a gentleman
That thus so long and so[501] sincerely lov’d you
As I myself, ne’er was less pity shewn.
Sec. C. Why, I never was held cruel.
Gol. But to me.
Sec. C. Nor to you.
Gol. Go to, ’t’as scar’d you much.
Sec. C. I’m sorry your conceit is so unkind
To think me so.
Gol. When had I other argument?
I’ve often tender’d you my love and service,
And that in no mean fashion;
Yet were you never[502] that requiteful mistress
That grac’d me with one favour;
’Slight, not so much as such a pretty ring;
Pax[503] on’t, ’t’as almost broke my heart.
[Takes off her ring.
Sec. C. Has took it off:—’Sfoot, master Goldstone![504]
Gol. Nay, where a man loves most, there to be scanted!
Sec. C. My ring, come, come——
Gol. What reckon I a satin gown or two,
If she were wise?
Sec. C. Life! my ring, sir, come——
Gol. Have you the face, i’faith?
Sec. C. Give me my ring.

Gol. Prithee, hence; by this light you get none on’t.

Sec. C. How?

Gol. I hold your favours of more pure esteem
Than to part from ’em; faith, I do, howe’er
You think of me.
Sec. C. Push,[505] pray, sir——
Gol. Hark you, go to;
You’ve[506] lost much by unkindness; go your ways.
Sec. C. ’Sfoot!
Gol. But yet there’s no time past; you may redeem it.

Sec. C. Come, I cannot miss[507] it, i’faith; beside, the gentleman that bestowed it on me swore to me it cost him twenty nobles.[508]

Gol. Twenty nobles? pox of twenty nobles!
But you must cost me more, you pretty villain:
Ah, you little rogue!
Sec. C. Come, come, I know you’re but in jest.
Gol. In jest? no, you shall see.
Sec. C. No way will get it:
As good give it him now, and hope for somewhat.
[Aside.
Gol. True love made jest!
Sec. C. I did but try thy faith,
How fast thou’dst hold it. Now I see a woman
May venture worthy favours to thy trust,
And have ’em truly kept; and I protest,
Had I drawn’t from thee, I should ne’er ha’ lov’d thee;
I know that.
Gol. ’Sfoot, I was ne’er so wrongèd in my life!
Think you I’m[509] in jest with you? what, with my love?
I could find lighter subjects you shall see;
And time will shew how much you injure me.
Sec. C. The ring, were it[510] thrice worth, I freely give,
For I know you’ll[511] requite it.
Gol. Will I live?
Sec. C. Enough.
Gol. Why, this was well come off now:
Where’s my old serving-man? not yet return’d?
O, here he peeps. [Aside.
Enter Fulk.
Now, sirrah?

Fulk. May it please your worship—they’re done artificially, i’faith, boy.

Gol. Both the great beakers?

Fulk. Both, lad.

Gol. Just the same size?

Fulk. Ay, and the marks as just.

Gol. So, fall off respectively[512] now.

Fulk. My lord desires your worship of all love——

Gol. His lordship must hold me excused till morning; I’ll not break company to-night. Where sup we, gallants?

Pur. At Mermaid.[513]
Gol. Sup there who list, I forsworn the house.

Fulk. For the truth is, this plot must take effect at Mitre.[514]

[Aside, and exit.

Pur. Faith,[515] I’m indifferent.

Bun. So are we, gentlemen.

Pur. Name the place, master Goldstone.

Gol. Why, the Mitre, in my mind, for neat attendance, diligent boys, and—push![516] excels it far.

All. Agreed, the Mitre then.

Pur. Boy[517]—some goodness toward:[518] the boy’s whipt away. [Aside.

Fit. The jewel, heart, the jewel!

Gol. How now, sir? what mov’d you?

Fit. Nothing, sir;
A spice of poetry, a kind a’ fury,
A disease runs among scholars.
Gol. Mass, it made you stamp.
Fit. Whew,
’T’ill make some stamp and stare, make a strange noise,
Curse, swear, beat tire-men,[519] and kick players’ boys;
The effects are very fearful.
Pur. Bless me from’t!
Fit. O, you need not fear it, sir.—Hell of this luck!
Gol. Hark, he’s at it again!
Pur. Some pageant-plot, or some device for the tilt-yard:
Disturb him not.
Fit. How can I gain her love,
When I have lost her favour? [Aside.

Gol. What money hast about thee? Look you,[520] sir, I must be fain to pawn a fair stone here for ordinary expenses: a pox of my tenants! I give ’em twenty days after the quarter, and they cut out forty.

Fri. Why, you might take the forfeiture of their leases then.

Gol. I know I might; but what’s their course? The rogues come[521] me up all together, with geese and capons, and petitions in pigs’ snouts, which would move any man, i’faith, were his stomach ne’er so great; and to see how pitifully the pullen[522] will look, it makes me after relent, and turn my anger into a quick fire to roast ’em—nay, touch’t and spare it not.

Fri. ’Tis right: well, what does your worship borrow of this, sir?

Gol. The stone’s twenty nobles.[523]

Fri. Nay, hardly.

Gol. As I am a right gentleman.

Fri. It comes near it indeed: well, here’s five pound in gold upon’t.

Gol. ’Twill serve; and the ring safe and secret?

Fri. As a virgin’s.

Gol. I wish no higher.—What, gallants, are you constant?
Does the place hold?

All. The Mitre.

Gol. Sir, in regard of our continued boldness and trouble, which love to your music hath made us guilty of, shall we entreat your worship’s company, with these sweet ladies, your professed scholars, to take part of a poor supper with myself and these gentlemen at the Mitre?

Fri. Pray, master Primero——

Pur. I beseech you, sir, let it be so.

Pri. O, pardon me, sweet gentlemen; the world’s apt to censure. I have the charge of them, they’re left in trust, they’re virgins: and I dare not hazard their fames; the least touch mars ’em: and what would their right worshipful parents think, if the report should fly to them, that they were seen with gentlemen in a tavern?

Gol. All this may be prevented: what serves your coach for?
They may come coach’d and mask’d.
Pri. You put me to’t, sir;
Yet I must say again, I fear the drawers
And vintner’s boys will be familiar with them,
And think ’em mistresses.
Pur. There are those places where respect seems slighter;
More censure[524] is belonging to the Mitre;
You know that, sir.
Pri. Gentlemen, you prevail.
Gol. We’ll all expect you there.
Pri. And we’ll not fail.
Fri. The devil will ne’er dissemble with them so,
As you for them.
Gol. Come, sir.
Fri. What else? let’s go.
[Exeunt all except Primero, Courtesans, and Novice.
Re-enter Tailby.
Pri. How cheer you, sir?
Tai. Faith, like the moon, more bright,
Decreas’d in body, but re-made in light:
Here thou shalt share some of my brightness with me.
Pri. By my faith, they’re[525] comfortable beams, sir.
First C. Come,
Where have you spent the time now from my sight?
I’m jealous of thy action.
Tai. Push![526] I did but walk
A turn or two in the garden.
First C. What made you[527] there?
Tai. Nothing but cropt a flower.
First C. Some woman’s honour, I believe.
Tai. Foh! is this a woman’s honour?
First C. Much about one,
When both are pluck’d, their sweetness is soon gone.
Tai. Prithee, be true to me.
First C. When did I fail?
Tai. Yet I am ever doubtful that you[528] sin.
First C. I do account the world but as my spoil,
To adorn thee:
My love is artificial to all others,
But purity to thee. Dost thou want gold?
Here, take this chain of pearl, supply thyself:
Be thou but constant, firm, and just to me,
Rich heirs shall want ere want come near to thee.
Tai. Upon thy lip I seal sincerity.
[Exit First Courtesan.
Sec. C. Was this your vow to me?
Tai. Pox, what’s a kiss to be quite rid of her?
She’s su’d so long, I was asham’d of her:
’Twas but her cheek I kiss’d neither, to save her longing.
Sec. C. ’Tis not a kiss I weigh.
Tai. Had you weigh’d this,
’T’ad lack’d above five ounces of a true one;
No kiss that e’er weigh’d lighter.
Sec. C. ’Tis thy love that I suspect.
Tai. My love? why, by this—what shall I swear by?
Sec. C. Swear by this jewel; keep thy oath, keep that.
Tai. By this jewel, then, no creature can be perfect
In my love but thy dear self.
Sec. C. I rest [content]. [Exit.
Tai. Ha, ha, ha! let’s laugh at ’em, sweet soul.
Nov. Ay, they may laugh at me;
I was a novice, and believ’d your oaths.
Tai. Why, what do you think of me? make I no difference
’Tween[529] seven years’ prostitution and seven days?
Why, you’re but in the wane of a maid yet.
You wrong my health in thinking I love them:
Do not I know their populous[530] imperfections?
Why, they cannot live till Easter, let ’em shew
The fairest side to th’ world, like hundreds more,
Whose clothes
E’en stand upright in silver, when their bodie[s]
Are ready to drop through ’em: such there be;
They may deceive the world, they ne’er shall me.
Nov. Forgive my doubts;
And for some satisfaction wear this ring,
From which I vow’d ne’er but to thee to part.
Tai. With which thou ever[531] bind’st me to thy heart. [Exit Novice.
[singing] O, the parting of us twain
Hath caus’d me mickle[532] pain!
And I shall ne’er be married
Until I see my muggle again.

Mis. N. [peeping in] Hist!

Pri. Ha?

Mis. N. The nimble gentleman, in the celestial stockings——

Pri. Has the best smock-fortune to be beloved of women.—Valle loo lo, lille lo lillo, valle loo lee lo lillo!

Tai. Valle loo lo, lille [lo] lillo, valle loo lee lo lillo!

Mis. N. Ah, sweet gentleman, he keeps it up stately! [Aside.

Pri. Well held, i’faith, sir: mass, and now I remember too, I think you ne’er saw my little banqueting box above since I altered it.

Tai. Why, have you altered that?

Pri. O, divinely, sir! the pictures are all new run over again.

Tai. Fie!

Pri. For what had the painter done, think you? drew me Venus naked, which is the grace of a man’s room, you know; and, when he had done, drew a number of oaken leaves before her: had not lawn been a hundred times softer, made a better shew, and been more gentlewoman-like?

Tai. More lady-like a great deal.
Pri. Come, you shall see how ’tis altered now;
I do not think but you’ll like her. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Street.
Enter Fitsgrave.[533]
Fit. My pocket pick’d? this was no brothel-house!
A music-school? damnation has fine shapes:
I paid enough for the song, I’ve[534] lost a jewel
To me more precious than their souls to them
That gave consent to filch it. I’ll hunt hard,
Waste time and money, trace and wheel about,
But I will find these secret mischiefs out.
Enter Servant.
How now? what’s he?
O, a servant to my love: being thus disguis’d,
I’ll learn some news. [Aside.]—Now, sir? you belong to me.[535]

Ser. I do, sir; but I cannot stay to say so: nay, good sir, detain me not; I am going in all haste to inquire or lay wait for a chain of pearl, nimmed out of her pocket the fifth of November, a dismal day.

Fit. Ha! a chain of pearl, sayst thou?

Ser. A chain of pearl, sir, which one master Fitsgrave, a gentleman and a suitor, fastened upon her as a pledge of his love.

Fit. Ha!

Ser. Urge me no more, I have no more to say;
Your friend, Jeronimo Bedlam. [Exit.
Fit. Thou’rt a mad fellow indeed.
Some comfort yet, that hers is missing too;
I feel my soul at much more ease: both stoln![536]
When griefs have partners they are better borne.