TEXT
EDITOR’S NOTE
The text here adopted is that of the original edition of 1631. No changes of reading have been made; spelling, punctuation, capitalization, and italics are reproduced. The original pagination is inserted in brackets; the book-holder’s marginal notes are inserted where 1716 and Whalley placed them. In a few instances modern type has been substituted for archaic characters. The spacing of the contracted words has been normalized.
| 1641 = | Pamphlet folio of 1641. |
| 1692 = | The Third Folio, 1692. |
| 1716 = | Edition of 1716 (17). |
| W = | Whalley’s edition, 1756. |
| G = | Gifford’s edition, 1816. |
| SD. = | Stage directions at the beginning of a scene. |
| SN. = | Side note, or book-holder’s note. |
| om. = | omitted. |
| ret. = | retained. |
| f. = | and all later editions. |
| G§ = | a regular change. After a single citation only exceptions are noted. See Introduction, [page xvi]. |
Mere changes of spelling have not been noted in the variants. All changes of form and all suggestive changes of punctuation have been recorded.
THE DIUELL
IS
AN ASSE:
A COMEDIE
ACTED IN THE
YEARE, 1616.
BY HIS MAIESTIES
Servants.
The Author BEN: IONSON.
HOR. de ART. POET.
Ficta voluptatis Cauſâ, ſint proxima veris.
[DEVICE OF A GRIFFIN’S HEAD ERASED]
LONDON.
Printed by I. B. for Robert Allot, and are
to be ſold at the ſigne of the Beare, in
Pauls Church-yard.
1631.
THE PERSONS
OF THE PLAY.
| Satan. | The great diuell.[93] |
| Pvg. | The leſſe diuell. |
| Iniqvity. | The Vice. |
| Fitz-dottrell. | A Squire of Norfolk. |
| Miſtreſſe Frances. | His wife. 5 |
| Meere-craft. | The Proiector. |
| Everill. | His champion. |
| Wittipol. | A young Gallant. |
| Manly. | His friend. |
| Ingine. | A Broaker. 10 |
| Traines. | The Proiectors man. |
| Gvilt-head. | A Gold-ſmith. |
| Plvtarchvs. | His ſonne. |
| Sir Povle Either-side. | A Lawyer, and Iuſtice. |
| Lady Either-side. | His wife. 15 |
| Lady Taile-bvsh. | The Lady Proiectreſſe. |
| Pit-fall. | Her woman. |
| Ambler. | Her Gentlemanvſher. |
| Sledge. | A Smith, the conſtable. |
| Shackles. | Keeper of Newgate. 20 |
SERIEANTS.
The Scene, London.
[93] Dramatis Personæ 1716, f. G places the women’s names after those of the men.
[96] 5 Mrs. Frances Fitzdottrel G || His wife] om. G
[101] 18 Gentleman-usher to lady Tailbush G
[102] 21 Serjeants, officers, servants, underkeepers, &c. G
[94]
The Prologue.
The Divell is an Aſſe. That is, to day, The name of what you are met for, a new Play. Yet, Grandee’s, would you were not come to grace Our matter, with allowing vs no place. Though you preſume Satan a ſubtill thing, 5 And may haue heard hee’s worne in a thumbe-ring; Doe not on theſe preſumptions, force vs act, In compaſſe of a cheeſe-trencher. This tract Will ne’er admit our vice, becauſe of yours. Anone, who, worſe then you, the fault endures 10 That your ſelues make? when you will thruſt and ſpurne, And knocke vs o’ the elbowes, and bid, turne; As if, when wee had ſpoke, wee muſt be gone, Or, till wee ſpeake, muſt all runne in, to one, Like the young adders, at the old ones mouth? 15 Would wee could ſtand due North; or had no South, If that offend: or were Muſcouy glaſſe, That you might looke our Scenes through as they paſſe. We know not how to affect you. If you’ll come To ſee new Playes, pray you affoord vs roome, 20 And ſhew this, but the ſame face you haue done Your deare delight, the Diuell of Edmunton. Or, if, for want of roome it muſt miſ-carry, ’Twill be but Iuſtice, that your cenſure tarry, Till you giue ſome. And when ſixe times you ha’ ſeen’t, 25 If this Play doe not like, the Diuell is in’t.
[104] The Prologue.] follows the title-page 1716, W
[106] 10 than 1692, f. passim in this sense. Anon 1692, f.
[95]
THE DIVELL
IS
AN ASSE.
Act. I. Scene. I.
Divell. Pvg. Iniqvity.
Hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, &c. To earth? and, why to earth, thou foooliſh Spirit? What wold’ſt thou do on earth?
Pvg. For that, great Chiefe! As time ſhal work. I do but ask my mon’th. Which euery petty pui’nee Diuell has; 5 Within that terme, the Court of Hell will heare Some thing, may gaine a longer grant, perhaps.
Sat. For what? the laming a poore Cow, or two? Entring a Sow, to make her caſt her farrow? Or croſſing of a Mercat-womans Mare, 10 Twixt this, and Totnam? theſe were wont to be Your maine atchieuements, Pug, You haue ſome plot, now, Vpon a tonning of Ale, to ſtale the yeſt, Or keepe the churne ſo, that the buttter come not; Spight o’ the houſewiues cord, or her hot ſpit? 15 Or ſome good Ribibe, about Kentiſh Towne, Or Hogſden, you would hang now, for a witch, Becauſe ſhee will not let you play round Robbin: And you’ll goe ſowre the Citizens Creame ’gainſt Sunday? That ſhe may be accus’d for’t, and condemn’d, 20 By a Middleſex Iury, to the ſatisfaction Of their offended friends, the Londiners wiues Whoſe teeth were ſet on edge with it? Fooliſh feind, Stay i’ your place, know your owne ſtrengths, and put not Beyond the ſpheare of your actiuity. 25 You are too dull a Diuell to be truſted [96] Forth in thoſe parts, Pug, vpon any affayre That may concerne our name, on earth. It is not Euery ones worke. The ſtate of Hell muſt care Whom it imployes, in point of reputation, 30 Heere about London. You would make, I thinke An Agent, to be ſent, for Lancaſhire, Proper inough; or ſome parts of Northumberland, So yo’ had good inſtructions, Pug. Pvg. O Chiefe! You doe not know, deare Chiefe, what there is in mee. 35 Proue me but for a fortnight, for a weeke, And lend mee but a Vice, to carry with mee, To practice there-with any play-fellow, And, you will ſee, there will come more vpon’t, Then you’ll imagine, pretious Chiefe.
Sat. What Vice? 40 What kind wouldſt th’ haue it of?
Pvg. Why, any Fraud; Or Couetouſneſſe; or Lady Vanity; Or old Iniquity: I’ll call him hither.
Ini. What is he, calls vpon me, and would ſeeme to lack a Vice? Ere his words be halfe ſpoken, I am with him in a trice; 45 Here, there, and euery where, as the Cat is with the mice: True vetus Iniquitas. Lack’ſt thou Cards, friend, or Dice? I will teach thee cheate, Child, to cog, lye, and ſwagger, And euer and anon, to be drawing forth thy dagger: To ſweare by Gogs-nownes, like a lusty Iuuentus, 50 In a cloake to thy heele, and a hat like a pent-houſe. Thy breeches of three fingers, and thy doublet all belly, With a Wench that shall feede thee, with cock-ſtones and gelly.
Pvg. Is it not excellent, Chiefe? how nimble he is!
Ini. Child of hell, this is nothing! I will fetch thee a leape 55 From the top of Pauls-ſteeple, to the Standard in Cheepe: And lead thee a daunce, through the ſtreets without faile, Like a needle of Spaine, with a thred at my tayle. We will ſuruay the Suburbs, and make forth our ſallyes, Downe Petticoate-lane, and vp the Smock-allies, 60 To Shoreditch, Whitechappell, and so to Saint Kathernes. To drinke with the Dutch there, and take forth their patternes: From thence, wee will put in at Cuſtome-houſe key there, And ſee, how the Factors, and Prentizes play there, Falſe with their Maſters; and gueld many a full packe, 65 To ſpend it in pies, at the Dagger, and the Wool-ſacke.
Pvg. Braue, braue, Iniquity! will not this doe, Chiefe?
Ini. Nay, boy, I wil bring thee to the Bawds, and the Royſters, At Belins-gate, feaſting with claret-wine, and oyſters, From thence ſhoot the Bridge, childe, to the Cranes i’ the Vintry, 70 And ſee, there the gimblets, how they make their entry! Or, if thou hadſt rather, to the Strand downe to fall, ’Gainſt the Lawyers come dabled from Weſtminſter-hall [97] And marke how they cling, with their clyents together, Like Iuie to Oake; so Veluet to Leather: 75 Ha, boy, I would ſhew thee.
Div. Peace, dotard, And thou more ignorant thing, that ſo admir’ſt. Art thou the ſpirit thou ſeem’ſt? ſo poore? to chooſe This, for a Vice, t’aduance the cauſe of Hell, Now? as Vice ſtands this preſent yeere? Remember, 80 What number it is. Six hundred and ſixteene. Had it but beene fiue hundred, though ſome ſixty Aboue; that’s fifty yeeres agone, and ſix, (When euery great man had his Vice ſtand by him, In his long coat, ſhaking his wooden dagger) 85 I could conſent, that, then this your graue choice Might haue done that with his Lord Chiefe, the which Moſt of his chamber can doe now. But Pug, As the times are, who is it, will receiue you? What company will you goe to? or whom mix with? 90 Where canſt thou carry him? except to Tauernes? To mount vp ona joynt-ſtoole, with a Iewes-trumpe, To put downe Cokeley, and that muſt be to Citizens? He ne’re will be admitted, there, where Vennor comes. Hee may perchance, in taile of a Sheriffes dinner, 95 Skip with a rime o’ the Table, from New-nothing, And take his Almaine-leape into a cuſtard, Shall make my Lad Maioreſſe, and her ſiſters, Laugh all their hoods ouer their shoulders. But, This is not that will doe, they are other things 100 That are receiu’d now vpon earth, for Vices; Stranger, and newer: and chang’d euery houre. They ride ’hem like their horſes off their legges, And here they come to Hell, whole legions of ’hem, Euery weeke tyr’d. Wee, ſtill ſtriue to breed, 105 And reare ’hem vp new ones; but they doe not ſtand, When they come there: they turne ’hem on our hands. And it is fear’d they haue a ſtud o’ their owne Will put downe ours. Both our breed, and trade VVill ſuddenly decay, if we preuent not. 110 Vnleſſe it be a Vice of quality, Or faſhion, now, they take none from vs. Car-men Are got into the yellow ſtarch, and Chimney-ſweepers To their tabacco, and ſtrong-waters, Hum, Meath, and Obarni. VVe muſt therefore ayme 115 At extraordinary ſubtill ones, now, When we doe ſend to keepe vs vp in credit. Not old Iniquities. Get you e’ne backe, Sir, To making of your rope of ſand againe. You are not for the manners, nor the times: [98] 120 They haue their Vices, there, moſt like to Vertues; You cannnot know ’hem, apart, by any difference: They weare the ſame clothes, eate the ſame meate, Sleepe i’ the ſelfe-ſame beds, rid i’ thoſe coaches. Or very like, foure horſes in a coach, 125 As the beſt men and women. Tiſſue gownes, Garters and roſes, foureſcore pound a paire, Embroydred ſtockings, cut-worke ſmocks, and ſhirts, More certaine marks of lechery, now, and pride, Then ere they were of true nobility! 130 But Pug, ſince you doe burne with ſuch deſire To doe the Common-wealth of Hell ſome ſeruice; I am content, aſſuming of a body, You goe to earth, and viſit men, a day. But you muſt take a body ready made, Pug, 135 I can create you none: nor ſhall you forme Your ſelfe an aery one, but become ſubiect To all impreſſion of the fleſh, you take, So farre as humane frailty. So, this morning, There is a handſome Cutpurſe hang’d at Tiborne, 140 Whoſe ſpirit departed, you may enter his body: For clothes imploy your credit, with the Hangman, Or let our tribe of Brokers furniſh you. And, looke, how farre your ſubtilty can worke Thorow thoſe organs, with that body, ſpye 145 Amongſt mankind, (you cannot there want vices, And therefore the leſſe need to carry ’hem wi’ you) But as you make your ſoone at nights relation, And we ſhall find, it merits from the State, Your ſhall haue both truſt from vs, and imployment. 150
Pvg. Most gracious Chiefe!
Div. Onely, thus more I bind you, To ſerue the firſt man that you meete; and him I’le ſhew you, now: Obserue him. Yon’ is hee, He ſhewes Fitz-dottrel to him, comming forth. You ſhall ſee, firſt, after your clothing. Follow him: But once engag’d, there you muſt ſtay and fixe; Not ſhift, vntill the midnights cocke doe crow.
Pvg. Any conditions to be gone.
Div. Away, then. 157
[110] SD. Divell] Devil, 1692 || Satan 1716, W || Divell ...] Enter Satan and Pug. G
[113] 10 Market 1641, 1692, 1716 || market W, G
[115] 15 Housewive’s 1716 || housewife’s W, f.
[117] 24 i’] in G§ || strength 1692, f.
[120] 34 you ’ad 1716 you had W, G
[122] 41 th’] thou G Why any, Fraud, 1716 Why any: Fraud, W, G
[123] 43 I’ll ...] Sat. I’ll ... W, G] Enter Iniquity. G
[124] 48 cheate] to cheat W [to] cheat G
[125] 57 Dance 1716 || dance 1641. W, G
[126] 69 Billings-gate 1692 Billingsgate 1716 Billingsgate W Billinsgate G
[127] 76 thee.] thee—G || Div.] Dev. 1692 || Sat. 1716, f.
[130] 98 Lady 1692, 1716 lady W, G
[131] 101 Vices 1641, 1692, 1716, G vices W
[132] 103 ’hem] ’em 1692, 1716, W passim them G§
[133] 106 ’hem om. G stand,] stand; G
[134] 107 there:] there W there, G
[137] 128 Embrothered 1641 Embroider’d 1716, f. stockins 1641
[139] 137 airy 1692, f. passim
[141] 140 Tyburn 1692, f. passim
[146] 151, 157 Div.] Dev. 1692 Sat. 1716, f.
[148] 153 SN.] Shews him Fitzdottrel coming out of his house at a distance. G
Act. I. Scene. II.
Fitz-Dottrell.
I, they doe, now, name Bretnor, as before, [97] They talk’d of Greſham, and of Doctor Fore-man, Francklin, and Fiske, and Sauory (he was in too) But there’s not one of theſe, that euer could Yet ſhew a man the Diuell, in true ſort. 5 They haue their chriſtalls, I doe know, and rings, And virgin parchment, and their dead-mens ſculls Their rauens wings, their lights, and pentacles, With characters; I ha’ ſeene all theſe. But— Would I might ſee the Diuell. I would giue 10 A hundred o’ theſe pictures, to ſee him Once out of picture. May I proue a cuckold, (And that’s the one maine mortall thing I feare) If I beginne not, now, to thinke, the Painters Haue onely made him. ’Slight, he would be ſeene, 15 One time or other elſe. He would not let An ancient gentleman, of a good houſe, As moſt are now in England, the Fitz-Dottrel’s Runne wilde, and call vpon him thus in vaine, As I ha’ done this twelue mone’th. If he be not, 20 At all, why, are there Coniurers? If they be not, Why, are there lawes againſt ’hem? The beſt artiſts Of Cambridge, Oxford, Middlesex, and London, Essex, and Kent, I haue had in pay to raiſe him, Theſe fifty weekes, and yet h’appeares not. ’Sdeath, 25 I ſhall ſuſpect, they, can make circles onely Shortly, and know but his hard names. They doe ſay, H’will meet a man (of himſelfe) that has a mind to him. If hee would ſo, I haue a minde and a halfe for him: He ſhould not be long abſent. Pray thee, come 30 I long for thee. An’ I were with child by him, And my wife too; I could not more. Come, yet, He expreſſes a longing to ſee the Diuell Good Beelezebub. Were hee a kinde diuell, And had humanity in him, hee would come, but To ſaue ones longing. I ſhould vſe him well, 35 I ſweare, and with reſpect (would he would try mee) Not, as the Conjurers doe, when they ha’ rais’d him. Get him in bonds, and ſend him poſt, on errands. A thouſand miles, it is prepoſterous, that; And I beleeue, is the true cauſe he comes not. [100] 40 And hee has reaſon. Who would be engag’d, That might liue freely, as he may doe? I ſweare, They are wrong all. The burn’t child dreads the fire. They doe not know to entertaine the Diuell. I would ſo welcome him, obſerue his diet, 45 Get him his chamber hung with arras, two of ’hem, I’ my own houſe; lend him my wiues wrought pillowes: And as I am an honeſt man, I thinke, If he had a minde to her, too; I should grant him, To make our friend-ſhip perfect. So I would not 50 To euery man. If hee but heare me, now? And ſhould come to mee in a braue young ſhape, And take me at my word? ha! Who is this?
[150] SD. Act. I. om. 1716, f. (as regularly, after Sc. I. of each act.) Act ...] Scene II. The street before Fitzdottrel’s House. Enter Fitzdottrel. G
[152] 17 a] as W [as] G || good] good a G
[153] 21, 22 comma om. after ‘why’ and ‘Why’ 1692 f.
[158] 32 SN. expresseth 1692, 1716, W || SN. om. G
Act. I. Scene. IIJ.
Pvg. Fitz-dottrell.
Sir, your good pardon, that I thus preſume Vpon your priuacy. I am borne a Gentleman, A younger brother; but, in ſome diſgrace, Now, with my friends: and want ſome little meanes, To keepe me vpright, while things be reconcil’d. 5 Pleaſe you, to let my ſeruice be of vſe to you, Sir.
Fit. Seruice? ’fore hell, my heart was at my mouth, Till I had view’d his ſhooes well: for, thoſe roſes Were bigge inough to hide a clouen foote. Hee lookes and ſuruay’s his feet: ouer and ouer. No, friend, my number’s full. I haue one ſeruant, 10 Who is my all, indeed; and, from the broome Vnto the bruſh: for, iuſt so farre, I truſt him. He is my Ward-robe man, my Cater, Cooke, Butler, and Steward; lookes vnto my horſe: And helpes to watch my wife. H’has all the places, 15 That I can thinke on, from the garret downward, E’en to the manger, and the curry-combe.
Pvg. Sir, I ſhall put your worſhip to no charge, More then my meate, and that but very little, I’le ſerue you for your loue.
Fit. Ha? without wages? 20 I’le harken o’ that eare, were I at leaſure. But now, I’m buſie. ’Pr’y the, friend forbeare mee, And’ thou hadſt beene a Diuell, I ſhould ſay [101] Somewhat more to thee. Thou doſt hinder, now, My meditations.
Pvg. Sir, I am a Diuell. 25
Fit. How!
Pvg. A true Diuell, Sr.
Fit. Nay, now, you ly: Vnder your fauour, friend, for, I’ll not quarrell. I look’d o’ your feet, afore, you cannot coozen mee, Your ſhoo’s not clouen, Sir, you are whole hoof’d. He viewes his feete againe. Pvg. Sir, that’s a popular error, deceiues many: 30 But I am that, I tell you.
Fit. What’s your name?
Pvg. My name is Diuell, Sr.
Fit. Sai’ſt thou true.
Pvg. in-deed, Sr.
Fit. ’Slid! there’s ſome omen i’ this! what countryman?
Pvg. Of Derby-ſhire, Sr. about the Peake.
Fit. That Hole Belong’d to your Anceſtors?
Pvg. Yes, Diuells arſe, Sr. 35
Fit. I’ll entertaine him for the name ſake. Ha? And turne away my tother man? and ſaue Foure pound a yeere by that? there’s lucke, and thrift too! The very Diuell may come, heereafter, as well. Friend, I receiue you: but (withall) I acquaint you, 40 Aforehand, if yo’ offend mee, I muſt beat you. It is a kinde of exerciſe, I vſe. And cannot be without.
Pvg. Yes, if I doe not Offend, you can, ſure.
Fit. Faith, Diuell, very hardly: I’ll call you by your ſurname, ’cauſe I loue it. 45
[160] 47 Wife’s 1716 wife’s W, G passim
[161] 53 word?—Enter Pug handsomely shaped and apparelled. G
[168] 22 I am G ’Prythe 1692 ’Prithee 1716, W Prithee G
[169] 23 An’ 1716, W An G || hadſt] hast 1692, 1716
[171] 28 cozen 1692, f. passim
[173] 31 that, I] that I 1692, f.
Act. I. Scene. IIII.
Ingine. Wittipol. Manly.
Fitzdottrell. Pvg.
Yonder hee walkes, Sir, I’ll goe lift him for you.
Wit. To him, good Ingine, raiſe him vp by degrees, Gently, and hold him there too, you can doe it. Shew your ſelfe now, a Mathematicall broker.
Ing. I’ll warrant you for halfe a piece.
Wit. ’Tis done, Sr. 5
Man. Is’t poſſible there ſhould be ſuch a man?
Wit. You ſhall be your owne witneſſe, I’ll not labour To tempt you paſt your faith.
Man. And is his wife So very handſome, ſay you?
Wit. I ha’ not ſeene her, Since I came home from trauell: and they ſay, 10 Shee is not alter’d. Then, before I went, I ſaw her once; but ſo, as ſhee hath ſtuck Still i’ my view, no obiect hath remou’d her.
Man. ’Tis a faire gueſt, Friend, beauty: and once lodg’d [102] Deepe in the eyes, ſhee hardly leaues the Inne. 15 How do’s he keepe her?
Wit. Very braue. Howeuer, Himselfe be fordide, hee is ſenſuall that way. In euery dreſſing, hee do’s ſtudy her.
Man. And furniſh forth himselfe ſo from the Brokers?
Wit. Yes, that’s a hyr’d ſuite, hee now has one, 20 To ſee the Diuell is an Aſſe, to day, in: (This Ingine gets three or foure pound a weeke by him) He dares not miſſe a new Play, or a Feaſt, What rate ſoeuer clothes be at; and thinkes Himſelfe ſtill new, in other mens old.
Man. But ſtay, 25 Do’s he loue meat ſo?
Wit. Faith he do’s not hate it. But that’s not it. His belly and his palate Would be compounded with for reaſon. Mary, A wit he has, of that ſtrange credit with him, ’Gainſt all mankinde; as it doth make him doe 30 Iuſt what it liſt: it rauiſhes him forth, Whither it pleaſe, to any aſſembly’or place, And would conclude him ruin’d, ſhould hee ſcape One publike meeting, out of the beliefe He has of his owne great, and Catholike ſtrengths, 35 In arguing, and diſcourſe. It takes, I ſee: H’has got the cloak vpon him.
Ingine hath won Fitzdottrel, to ’ſay on the cloake.
Fit. A faire garment, By my faith, Ingine!
Ing. It was neuer made, Sir, For three ſcore pound, I aſſure you: ’Twill yeeld thirty. The pluſh, Sir, coſt three pound, ten ſhillings a yard! 40 And then the lace, and veluet.
Fit. I ſhall, Ingine, Be look’d at, pretitly, in it! Art thou ſure The Play is play’d to day?
Ing. O here’s the bill, Sr. Hee giues him the Play-bill. I’, had forgot to gi’t you.
Fit. Ha? the Diuell! I will not loſe you, Sirah! But, Ingine, thinke you, 45 The Gallant is ſo furious in his folly? So mad vpon the matter, that hee’ll part With’s cloake vpo’ theſe termes?
Ing. Truſt not your Ingine, Breake me to pieces elſe, as you would doe A rotten Crane, or an old ruſty Iacke, 50 That has not one true wheele in him. Doe but talke with him.
Fit. I ſhall doe that, to ſatisfie you, Ingine, And my ſelfe too. With your leaue, Gentlemen. Hee turnes to Wittipol. Which of you is it, is ſo meere Idolater To my wiues beauty, and ſo very prodigall 55 Vnto my patience, that, for the ſhort parlee? Of one ſwift houres quarter, with my wife, He will depart with (let mee ſee) this cloake here The price of folly? Sir, are you the man?
Wit. I am that vent’rer, Sir.
Fit. Good time! your name 60 Is Witty-pol?
Wit. The ſame, Sr.
Fit. And ’tis told me, [103] Yo’ haue trauell’d lately?
Wit. That I haue, Sr.
Fit. Truly, Your trauells may haue alter’d your complexion; But ſure, your wit ſtood ſtill.
Wit. It may well be, Sir. All heads ha’ not like growth.
Fit. The good mans grauity, 65 That left you land, your father, neuer taught you Theſe pleaſant matches?
Wit. No, nor can his mirth, With whom I make ’hem, put me off.
Fit. You are Reſolu’d then?
Wit. Yes, Sr.
Fit. Beauty is the Saint, You’ll ſacrifice your ſelfe, into the ſhirt too? 70
Wit. So I may ſtill cloth, and keepe warme your wiſdome?
Fit. You lade me Sr!
Wit. I know what you wil beare, Sr.
Fit. Well, to the point. ’Tis only, Sir, you ſay, To ſpeake vnto my wife?
Wit. Only, to ſpeake to her.
Fit. And in my preſence?
Wit. In your very preſence. 75
Fit. And in my hearing?
Wit. In your hearing: ſo, You interrupt vs not.
Fit. For the ſhort ſpace You doe demand, the fourth part of an houre, I thinke I ſhall, with ſome conuenient ſtudy, And this good helpe to boot, bring my ſelfe to’t. 80 Hee ſhrugs himſelfe vp in the cloake. Wit. I aske no more.
Fit. Pleaſe you, walk to’ard my houſe, Speake what you liſt; that time is yours: My right I haue departed with. But, not beyond, A minute, or a ſecond, looke for. Length, And drawing out, ma’aduance much, to theſe matches. 85 And I except all kiſſing. Kiſſes are Silent petitions ſtill with willing Louers.
Wit. Louers? How falls that o’ your phantſie?
Fit. Sir. I doe know ſomewhat. I forbid all lip-worke.
Wit. I am not eager at forbidden dainties. 90 Who couets vnfit things, denies him ſelfe.
Fit. You ſay well, Sir, ’Twas prettily ſaid, that ſame, He do’s, indeed. I’ll haue no touches, therefore, Nor takings by the armes, nor tender circles Caſt ’bout the waſt, but all be done at diſtance. 95 Loue is brought vp with thoſe ſoft migniard handlings; His pulſe lies in his palme: and I defend All melting ioynts, and fingers, (that’s my bargaine) I doe defend ’hem, any thing like action. But talke, Sir, what you will. Vſe all the Tropes 100 And Schemes, that Prince Quintilian can afford you: And much good do your Rhetoriques heart. You are welcome, Sir. Ingine, God b’w’you.
Wit. Sir, I muſt condition To haue this Gentleman by, a witneſſe.
Fit. Well, I am content, ſo he be ſilent.
Fit. Come Diuell, I’ll make you roome, ſtreight. But I’ll ſhew you Firſt, to your Miſtreſſe, who’s no common one, You muſt conceiue, that brings this game to ſee her. [104] I hope thou’ſt brought me good lucke.
Pvg. I ſhall do’t. Sir.
[177] SD. Act. ...] Enter, behind, Engine, with a cloke on his arm, Wittipol, and Manly. G
[178] 5 [Engine goes to Fitzdottrel and takes him aside. G
[179] 19 Broker 1692, 1716 broker W
[183] 36 SN. ’say] say 1641, f. SN. om. G
[184] 37 Fitz. [after saying on the cloke.] G
[186] 44 I’, had] I’d 1716 I had W, G gi’t] give it G
[190] 53 too. [comes forward.] G SN. om. G
[193] 70 comma om. after ‘selfe’ 1692, f. to W, G
[197] 88 phant’sie W phantasy G o’ret. G
[199] 102 [Opens the door of his house. G
[202] 109 [They all enter the house. G
Act. I. Scene. V.
VVittipol. Manly.
Ingine, you hope o’ your halfe piece? ’Tis there, Sir. Be gone. Friend Manly, who’s within here? fixed? Wittipol knocks his friend o’ the breſt. Man. I am directly in a fit of wonder What’ll be the iſſue of this conference!
Wit. For that, ne’r vex your ſelfe, till the euent. 5 How like yo’ him?
Man. I would faine ſee more of him.
Wit. What thinke you of this?
Man. I am paſt degrees of thinking. Old Africk, and the new America, With all their fruite of Monſters cannot ſhew So iuſt a prodigie.
Wit. Could you haue beleeu’d, 10 Without your ſight, a minde ſo ſordide inward, Should be ſo ſpecious, and layd forth abroad, To all the ſhew, that euer ſhop, or ware was?
Man. I beleeue any thing now, though I confeſſe His Vices are the moſt extremities 15 I euer knew in nature. But, why loues hee The Diuell ſo?
Wit. O Sr! for hidden treaſure, Hee hopes to finde: and has propos’d himſelfe So infinite a Maſſe, as to recouer, He cares not what he parts with, of the preſent, 20 To his men of Art, who are the race, may coyne him. Promiſe gold-mountaines, and the couetous Are ſtill moſt prodigall.
Man. But ha’ you faith, That he will hold his bargaine?
Wit. O deare, Sir! He will not off on’t. Feare him not. I know him. 25 One baſeneſſe ſtill accompanies another. See! he is heere already, and his wife too.
Man. A wondrous handſome creature, as I liue!
[203] SD. Act. ...] om. Scene III. A Room in Fitzdottrel’s House. Enter Wittipol, Manly, and Engine. G
[204] 2 SN.] gone. [Exit Engine.] || fixed! [knocks him on the breast. G
Act. I. Scene. VI. [105]
Fitz-dottrell. Miſtreſſe Fitz-dottrell.
Wittipol. Manly.
Come wife, this is the Gentleman. Nay, bluſh not.
Mrs. Fi. Why, what do you meane Sir? ha’ you your reaſon?
Fit. Wife, I do not know, that I haue lent it forth To any one; at leaſt, without a pawne, wife: Or that I’haue eat or drunke the thing, of late, 5 That ſhould corrupt it. Wherefore gentle wife, Obey, it is thy vertue: hold no acts Of diſputation.
Mrs. Fi. Are you not enough The talke, of feaſts, and meetingy, but you’ll ſtill Make argument for freſh?
Fit. Why, carefull wedlocke, 10 If I haue haue a longing to haue one tale more Goe of mee, what is that to thee, deare heart? Why ſhouldſt thou enuy my delight? or croſſe it? By being ſolicitous, when it not concernes thee?
Mrs. Fi. Yes, I haue ſhare in this. The ſcorne will fall 15 As bittterly on me, where both are laught at.
Fit. Laught at, ſweet bird? is that the ſcruple? Come, come, Thou art a Niaiſe. A Niaiſe is a young Hawke, tane crying out of the neſt. Which of your great houſes, (I will not meane at home, here, but abroad) Your families in France, wife, ſend not forth 20 Something, within the ſeuen yeere, may be laught at? I doe not ſay ſeuen moneths, nor ſeuen weekes, Nor ſeuen daies, nor houres: but ſeuen yeere wife. I giue ’hem time. Once, within ſeuen yeere, I thinke they may doe ſomething may be laught at. 25 In France, I keepe me there, ſtill. Wherefore, wife, Let them that liſt, laugh ſtill, rather then weepe For me; Heere is a cloake coſt fifty pound, wife, Which I can ſell for thirty, when I ha’ ſeene All London in’t, and London has ſeene mee. 30 To day, I goe to the Black-fryers Play-houſe, Sit ithe view, ſalute all my acquaintance, Riſe vp betweene the Acts, let fall my cloake, Publiſh a handſome man, and a rich ſuite (As that’s a ſpeciall end, why we goe thither, 35 All that pretend, to ſtand for’t o’ the Stage) The Ladies aske who’s that? (For, they doe come [106] To ſee vs, Loue, as wee doe to ſee them) Now, I ſhall loſe all this, for the falſe feare Of being laught at? Yes, wuſſe. Let ’hem laugh, wife, 40 Let me haue ſuch another cloake to morrow. And let ’hem laugh againe, wife, and againe, And then grow fat with laughing, and then fatter, All my young Gallants, let ’hem bring their friends too: Shall I forbid ’hem? No, let heauen forbid ’hem: 45 Or wit, if’t haue any charge on ’hem. Come, thy eare, wife, Is all, I’ll borrow of thee. Set your watch, Sir, Thou, onely art to heare, not ſpeake a word, Doue, To ought he ſayes. That I doe gi’ you in precept, No leſſe then councell, on your wiue-hood, wife, 50 Not though he flatter you, or make court, or Loue (As you muſt looke for theſe) or ſay, he raile; What ere his arts be, wife, I will haue thee Delude ’hem with a trick, thy obſtinate ſilence; I know aduantages; and I loue to hit 55 Theſe pragmaticke young men, at their owne weapons. Is your watch ready? Here my ſaile beares, for you: Tack toward him, ſweet Pinnace, where’s your watch?
He diſpoſes his wife to his place, and ſets his watch.
Wit. I’le ſet it. Sir, with yours.
Mrs. Fi. I muſt obey.
Man. Her modeſty ſeemes to ſuffer with her beauty, 60 And ſo, as if his folly were away, It were worth pitty.
Fit. Now, th’are right, beginne, Sir. But firſt, let me repeat the contract, briefely. Hee repeats his contract againe. I am, Sir, to inioy this cloake, I ſtand in, Freely, and as your gift; vpon condition 65 You may as freely, ſpeake here to my ſpouſe, Your quarter of an houre alwaies keeping The meaſur’d diſtance of your yard, or more, From my ſaid Spouſe: and in my ſight and hearing. This is your couenant?
Wit. Yes, but you’ll allow 70 For this time ſpent, now?
Fit. Set ’hem ſo much backe.
Wit. I thinke, I ſhall not need it.
Fit. Well, begin, Sir, There is your bound, Sir. Not beyond that ruſh.
Wit. If you interrupt me, Sir, I ſhall diſcloake you. Wittipol beginnes. The time I haue purchaſt, Lady, is but ſhort; 75 And, therefore, if I imploy it thriftily, I hope I ſtand the neerer to my pardon. I am not here, to tell you, you are faire, Or louely, or how well you dreſſe you, Lady, I’ll ſaue my ſelfe that eloquence of your glaſſe, 80 Which can ſpeake these things better to you then I. And ’tis a knowledge, wherein fooles may be As wiſe as a Count Parliament. Nor come I, With any preiudice, or doubt, that you [107] Should, to the notice of your owne worth, neede 85 Leaſt reuelation. Shee’s a ſimple woman, Know’s not her good: (who euer knowes her ill) And at all caracts. That you are the wife, To ſo much blaſted fleſh, as ſcarce hath ſoule, In ſtead of ſalt, to keepe it ſweete; I thinke, 90 Will aske no witneſſes, to proue. The cold Sheetes that you lie in, with the watching candle, That ſees, how dull to any thaw of beauty, Pieces, and quarters, halfe, and whole nights, ſometimes, The Diuell-giuen Elfine Squire, your husband, 95 Doth leaue you, quitting heere his proper circle, For a much-worſe i’ the walks of Lincolnes Inne, Vnder the Elmes, t’expect the feind in vaine, there Will confeſſe for you.
Fit. I did looke for this geere.
Wit. And what a daughter of darkneſſe, he do’s make you, 100 Lock’d vp from all ſociety, or object; Your eye not let to looke vpon a face, Vnder a Conjurers (or ſome mould for one, Hollow, and leane like his) but, by great meanes, As I now make; your owne too ſenſible ſufferings, 105 Without the extraordinary aydes, Of ſpells, or ſpirits, may aſſure you, Lady. For my part, I proteſt ’gainſt all ſuch practice, I worke by no falſe arts, medicines, or charmes To be said forward and backward.
Fit. No, I except: 110
He offers to diſcloake him.
Fit. Mum.
Wit. Nor haue I ends, Lady, Vpon you, more then this: to tell you how Loue Beauties good Angell, he that waits vpon her At all occaſions, and no leſſe then Fortune, Helps th’ aduenturous, in mee makes that proffer, 115 Which neuer faire one was ſo fond, to loſe; Who could but reach a hand forth to her freedome: On the firſt ſight, I lou’d you: ſince which time, Though I haue trauell’d, I haue beene in trauell More for this second blessing of your eyes 120 Which now I’haue purchas’d, then for all aymes elſe. Thinke of it, Lady, be your minde as actiue, As is your beauty: view your object well. Examine both my faſhion, and my yeeres; Things, that are like, are ſoone familiar: 125 And Nature ioyes, ſtill in equality. Let not the ſigne o’ the husband fright you, Lady. But ere your ſpring be gone, inioy it. Flowers, Though faire, are oft but of one morning. Thinke, All beauty doth not laſt vntill the autumne. 130 You grow old, while I tell you this. And ſuch, [108] As cannot vſe the preſent, are not wiſe. If Loue and Fortune will take care of vs, Why ſhould our will be wanting? This is all. What doe you anſwer, Lady?
Shee stands mute.
Fit. Now, the sport comes. 135 Let him ſtill waite, waite, waite: while the watch goes, And the time runs. Wife!
Wit. How! not any word? Nay, then, I taſte a tricke in’t. Worthy Lady, I cannot be ſo falſe to mine owne thoughts Of your preſumed goodneſſe, to conceiue 140 This, as your rudeneſſe, which I ſee’s impos’d. Yet, ſince your cautelous Iaylor, here ſtands by you, And yo’ are deni’d the liberty o’ the houſe, Let me take warrant, Lady, from your ſilence, (Which euer is interpreted conſent) 145 To make your anſwer for you: which ſhall be To as good purpoſe, as I can imagine, And what I thinke you’ld ſpeake.
Fit. No, no, no, no.
Wit. I ſhall reſume, Sr.
Man. Sir, what doe you meane?
He ſets Mr. Manly, his friend, in her place.
Wit. One interruption more, Sir, and you goe 150 Into your hoſe and doublet, nothing ſaues you. And therefore harken. This is for your wife.
Man. You muſt play faire, Sr.
Wit. Stand for mee, good friend. And ſpeaks for her. Troth, Sir, tis more then true, that you haue vttred Of my vnequall, and ſo ſordide match heere, 155 With all the circumſtances of my bondage. I haue a husband, and a two-legg’d one, But ſuch a moon-ling, as no wit of man Or roſes can redeeme from being an Aſſe. H’is growne too much, the ſtory of mens mouthes, 160 To ſcape his lading: ſhould I make’t my ſtudy, And lay all wayes, yea, call mankind to helpe, To take his burden off, why, this one act Of his, to let his wife out to be courted, And, at a price, proclaimes his aſinine nature 165 So lowd, as I am weary of my title to him. But Sir, you ſeeme a Gentleman of vertue, No leſſe then blood; and one that euery way Lookes as he were of too good quality, To intrap a credulous woman, or betray her: 170 Since you haue payd thus deare, Sir, for a viſit, And made ſuch venter, on your wit, and charge Meerely to ſee mee, or at moſt to ſpeake to mee, I were too ſtupid; or (what’s worſe) ingrate Not to returne your venter. Thinke, but how, 175 I may with ſafety doe it; I ſhall truſt My loue and honour to you, and preſume; You’ll euer huſband both, againſt this huſband; [109] Who, if we chance to change his liberall eares, To other enſignes, and with labour make 180 A new beaſt of him, as hee ſhall deſerue, Cannot complaine, hee is vnkindly dealth with. This day hee is to goe to a new play, Sir. From whence no feare, no, nor authority, Scarcely the Kings command, Sir, will reſtraine him, 185 Now you haue fitted him with a Stage-garment, For the meere names ſake, were there nothing elſe: And many more ſuch iourneyes, hee will make. Which, if they now, or, any time heereafter, Offer vs opportunity, you heare, Sir, 190 Who’ll be as glad, and forward to imbrace, Meete, and enioy it chearefully as you. I humbly thanke you, Lady.
Hee ſhifts to his owne place againe
Fit. Keepe your ground Sir.
Wit. Will you be lightned?
Fit. Mum.
Wit. And but I am, By the ſad contract, thus to take my leaue of you 195 At this ſo enuious distance, I had taught Our lips ere this, to ſeale the happy mixture Made of our ſoules. But we muſt both, now, yeeld To the neceſſity. Doe not thinke yet, Lady, But I can kiſſe, and touch, and laugh, and whiſper, 200 And doe those crowning court-ſhips too, for which, Day, and the publike haue allow’d no name But, now, my bargaine binds me. ’Twere rude iniury, T’importune more, or vrge a noble nature, To what of it’s owne bounty it is prone to: 205 Elſe, I ſhould ſpeake—But, Lady, I loue ſo well, As I will hope, you’ll doe ſo to. I haue done, Sir.
Fit. Well, then, I ha’ won?
Wit. Sir, And I may win, too.
Fit. O yes! no doubt on’t. I’ll take carefull order, That ſhee ſhall hang forth enſignes at the window, 210 To tell you when I am abſent. Or I’ll keepe Three or foure foote-men, ready ſtill of purpoſe, To runne and fetch you, at her longings, Sir. I’ll goe beſpeake me ſtraight a guilt caroch, For her and you to take the ayre in. Yes, 215 Into Hide-parke, and thence into Black-Fryers, Viſit the painters, where you may ſee pictures, And note the propereſt limbs, and how to make ’hem. Or what doe you ſay vnto a middling Goſſip To bring you aye together, at her lodging? 220 Vnder pretext of teaching o’ my wife Some rare receit of drawing almond milke? ha? It shall be a part of my care. Good Sir, God b’w’you. I ha’ kept the contract, and the cloake is mine.
Wit. Why, much good do’t you Sr; it may fall out, [110] 225 That you ha’ bought it deare, though I ha’ not ſold it.
Fit. A pretty riddle! Fare you well, good Sir. Wife, your face this way, looke on me: and thinke Yo’ haue had a wicked dreame, wife, and forget it.
Hee turnes his wife about.
Man. This is the ſtrangeſt motion I ere ſaw. 230
Fit. Now, wife, ſits this faire cloake the worſe vpon me, For my great ſufferings, or your little patience? ha? They laugh, you thinke?
Mrs. Fi. Why Sr. and you might ſee’t. What thought, they haue of you, may be ſoone collected By the young Genlemans ſpeache.
Fit. Youug Gentleman? 235 Death! you are in loue with him, are you? could he not Be nam’d the Gentleman, without the young? Vp to your Cabbin againe.
Mrs. Fi. My cage, yo’ were beſt To call it?
Fit. Yes, ſing there. You’ld faine be making Blanck Manger with him at your mothers! I know you. 240 Goe get you vp. How now! what ſay you, Diuell?
[206] SD. om. Enter Fitzdottrell, with Mrs. Frances his wife. G
[207] 9 Meetings 1692, 1716 meetings 1641, W, G
[208] 11 I haue] I’ve W haue a] a 1641. f.
[211] 32 i’ the 1641, 1692, 1716, W in the G
[213] 46 ’t] it G || ’hem] ’em G
[217] 58 SN.] He disposes his wife to her place. G
[219] 63 th’art 1641, 1692, 1716 they are W, G SN. om. G
[224] 88 characts 1692 Characts 1716
[226] 115 adventrous 1692, 1716 advent’rous W || th’] the G
[228] 121 I’ haue] I have 1692 I’ve 1716, f.
[230] 134, 5 misplaced t adjusted 1692. f.
[233] 143 you’re 1716, W you are G
[234] 149, 153 SN. [Sets Manly in his place, and speaks for the lady. (after ‘friend.’ 153) G
[235] 154 utt’red 1692 utter’d 1716, f.
[237] 161 T’ escape W To ’scape 1716
[240] 187 nothing] no things 1692, 1716
[242] 193 SN. om. 1641, 1692, 1716 || Hee om. G
[247] 224 is mine] is mine owne 1641 is mine own 1692 ’s mine own 1716, W, G
[248] 226 I ha’] I’ve G [Exit. G
[249] 229 Ya’ have 1692 You’ve 1716 You W, G SN. om. G
[251] 235 Youug] Young 1641, f. || Gentlmans 1641 Gentleman’s 1692, 1716 gentleman’s W, G
[253] 241 up.—[Exit Mrs. Fitz. Enter Pug. G
Act. I. Scene. VII.
Pvg. Fitzdottrel. Ingine.
Heere is one Ingine, Sir, deſires to ſpeake with you.
Fit. I thought he brought ſome newes, of a broker! Well, Let him come in, good Diuell: fetch him elſe. O, my fine Ingine! what’s th’affaire? more cheats?
Ing. No Sir, the Wit, the Braine, the great Proiector, 5 I told you of, is newly come to towne.
Fit. Where, Ingine?
Ing. I ha’ brought him (H’is without) Ere hee pull’d off his boots, Sir, but ſo follow’d, For buſineſſes:
Fit. But what is a Proiector? I would conceiue.
Ing. Why, one Sir, that proiects 10 Wayes to enrich men, or to make ’hem great, By ſuites, by marriages, by vndertakings: According as he ſees they humour it.
Fit. Can hee not coniure at all?
Ing. I thinke he can, Sir. (To tell you true) but, you doe know, of late, 15 The State hath tane ſuch note of ’hem, and compell’d ’hem, To enter ſuch great bonds, they dare not practice.
Fit. ’Tis true, and I lie fallow for’t, the while!
Ing. O, Sir! you’ll grow the richer for the reſt.
Fit. I hope I ſhall: but Ingine, you doe talke 20 Somewhat too much, o’ my courſes. My Cloake-cuſtomer Could tell mee ſtrange particulars.
Ing. By my meanes? [111]
Fit. How ſhould he haue ’hem elſe?
Ing. You do not know, Sr, What he has: and by what arts! A monei’d man, Sir, And is as great with your Almanack-Men, as you are! 25
Fit. That Gallant?
Ing. You make the other wait too long, here: And hee is extreme punctuall.
Fit. Is he a gallant?
Ing. Sir, you ſhall ſee: He’is in his riding ſuit, As hee comes now from Court. But heere him ſpeake: Miniſter matter to him, and then tell mee. 30
[255] 3 Exit Pug. Re-enter Engine. G
[257] 7 H’is] he’s 1716, f. () ret. G
[263] 28 He’is] He’s 1716 he’s W, G
Act. IJ. Scene. I.
Meer-craft. Fitz-dottrel. Ingine.
Traines. Pvg.
Sir, money’s a whore, a bawd, a drudge; Fit to runne out on errands: Let her goe. Via pecunia! when ſhe’s runne and gone, And fled and dead; then will I fetch her, againe, With Aqua-vitæ, out of an old Hogs-head! 5 While there are lees of wine, or dregs of beere, I’le neuer want her! Coyne her out of cobwebs, Duſt, but I’ll haue her! Raiſe wooll vpon egge-ſhells, Sir, and make graſe grow out o’ marro-bones. To make her come. (Commend mee to your Miſtreſſe, 10 To a waiter. Say, let the thouſand pound but be had ready, And it is done) I would but ſee the creature (Of fleſh, and blood) the man, the prince, indeed, That could imploy ſo many millions As I would help him to.
Fit. How, talks he? millions? 15
Mer. (I’ll giue you an account of this to morrow.) Yes, I will talke no leſſe, and doe it too; To another. If they were Myriades: and without the Diuell, By direct meanes, it ſhall be good in law.
Ing. Sir. [112]
Mer. Tell Mr. Wood-cock, I’ll not faile to meet him 20 To a third. Vpon th’ Exchange at night. Pray him to haue The writings there, and wee’ll diſpatch it. Sir, He turnes to Fitz-dottrel. You are a Gentleman of a good preſence, A handſome man (I haue conſidered you) As a fit ſtocke to graft honours vpon: 25 I haue a proiect to make you a Duke, now. That you muſt be one, within ſo many moneths, As I ſet downe, out of true reaſon of ſtate, You ſha’ not auoyd it. But you muſt harken, then.
Ing. Harken? why Sr, do you doubt his eares? Alas! 30 You doe not know Maſter Fitz-dottrel.
Fit. He do’s not know me indeed. I thank you, Ingine, For rectifying him.
Mer. Good! Why, Ingine, then He turnes to Ingine. I’le tell it you. (I see you ha’ credit, here, And, that you can keepe counſell, I’ll not queſtion.) 35 Hee ſhall but be an vndertaker with mee, In a moſt feaſible bus’neſſe. It shall cost him Nothing.
Ing. Good, Sr.
Mer. Except he pleaſe, but’s count’nance; (That I will haue) t’appeare in’t, to great men, For which I’ll make him one. Hee ſhall not draw 40 A ſtring of’s purſe. I’ll driue his pattent for him. We’ll take in Cittizens, Commoners, and Aldermen, To beare the charge, and blow ’hem off againe, Like ſo many dead flyes, when ’tis carryed. The thing is for recouery of drown’d land, 45 Whereof the Crowne’s to haue his moiety, If it be owner; Elſe, the Crowne and Owners To ſhare that moyety: and the recouerers T’enioy the tother moyety, for their charge.
Mer. Yes, which will ariſe 50 To eyghteene millions, ſeuen the firſt yeere: I haue computed all, and made my ſuruay Vnto an acre. I’ll beginne at the Pan, Not, at the skirts: as ſome ha’ done, and loſt, All that they wrought, their timber-worke, their trench, 55 Their bankes all borne away, or elſe fill’d vp By the next winter. Tut, they neuer went The way: I’ll haue it all.
Ing. A gallant tract Of land it is!
Mer. ’Twill yeeld a pound an acre. Wee muſt let cheape, euer, at firſt. But Sir, 60 This lookes too large for you, I ſee. Come hither, We’ll haue a leſſe. Here’s a plain fellow, you ſee him, Has his black bag of papers, there, in Buckram, Wi’ not be ſold for th’Earledome of Pancridge: Draw, Gi’ me out one, by chance. Proiect. 4. Dog-skinnes? 65 Twelue thouſand pound! the very worſt, at firſt. [113]
Fit. Pray, you let’s ſee’t Sir.
Mer. ’Tis a toy, a trifle!
Fit. Trifle! 12. thouſand pound for dogs-skins?
Mer. Yes, But, by my way of dreſſing, you muſt know, Sir, And med’cining the leather, to a height 70 Of improu’d ware, like your Borachio Of Spaine, Sir. I can fetch nine thouſand for’t—
Ing. Of the Kings glouer?
Mer. Yes, how heard you that?
Ing. Sir, I doe know you can.
Mer. Within this houre: And reſerue halfe my ſecret. Pluck another; 75 See if thou haſt a happier hand: I thought ſo. Hee pluckes out the 2. Bottle-ale. The very next worſe to it! Bottle-ale. Yet, this is two and twenty thouſand! Pr’y thee Pull out another, two or three.
Fit. Good, ſtay, friend, By bottle-ale, two and twenty thouſand pound? 80
Mer. Yes, Sir, it’s caſt to penny-hal’penny-farthing, O’ the back-ſide, there you may ſee it, read, I will not bate a Harrington o’ the ſumme. I’ll winne it i’ my water, and my malt, My furnaces, and hanging o’ my coppers, 85 The tonning, and the ſubtilty o’ my yeſt; And, then the earth of my bottles, which I dig, Turne vp, and ſteepe, and worke, and neale, my ſelfe, To a degree of Porc’lane. You will wonder, At my proportions, what I will put vp 90 In ſeuen yeeres! for ſo long time, I aske For my inuention. I will ſaue in cork, In my mere ſtop’ling, ’boue three thouſand pound, Within that terme: by googing of ’hem out Iuſt to the ſize of my bottles, and not ſlicing, 95 There’s infinite loſſe i’ that. What haſt thou there? O’ making wine of raiſins: this is in hand, now, Hee drawes out another. Raiſines.
Ing. Is not that ſtrange, Sr, to make wine of raiſins?
Mer. Yes, and as true a wine, as the wines of France, Or Spaine, or Italy, Looke of what grape 100 My raiſin is, that wine I’ll render perfect, As of the muſcatell grape, I’ll render muſcatell; Of the Canary, his; the Claret, his; So of all kinds: and bate you of the prices, Of wine, throughout the kingdome, halfe in halfe. 105
Ing. But, how, Sr, if you raiſe the other commodity, Rayſins?
Mer. Why, then I’ll make it out of blackberries: And it ſhall doe the ſame. ’Tis but more art, And the charge leſſe. Take out another.
Fit. No, good Sir. Saue you the trouble, I’le not looke, nor heare 110 Of any, but your firſt, there; the Drown’d-land: If’t will doe, as you ſay.
Mer. Sir, there’s not place, To gi’ you demonſtration of theſe things. [114] They are a little to ſubtle. But, I could ſhew you Such a neceſſity in’t, as you muſt be 115 But what you pleaſe: againſt the receiu’d hereſie, That England beares no Dukes. Keepe you the land, Sr, The greatneſſe of th’ eſtate ſhall throw’t vpon you. If you like better turning it to money, What may not you, Sr, purchaſe with that wealth? 120 Say, you ſhould part with two o’ your millions, To be the thing you would, who would not do’t? As I proteſt, I will, out of my diuident, Lay, for ſome pretty principality, In Italy, from the Church: Now, you perhaps, 125 Fancy the ſmoake of England, rather? But— Ha’ you no priuate roome, Sir, to draw to, T’enlarge our ſelues more vpon.
Fit. O yes, Diuell!
Mer. Theſe, Sir, are bus’neſſes, aske to be carryed With caution, and in cloud.
Fit. I apprehend, 130 They doe ſo, Sr. Diuell, which way is your Miſtreſſe?
Pvg. Aboue, Sr. in her chamber.
Fit. O that’s well. Then, this way, good, Sir.
Mer. I ſhall follow you; Traines, Gi’ mee the bag, and goe you preſently, Commend my ſeruice to my Lady Tail-buſh. 135 Tell her I am come from Court this morning; ſay, I’haue got our bus’neſſe mou’d, and well: Intreat her, That ſhee giue you the four-ſcore Angels, and ſee ’hem Diſpos’d of to my Councel, Sir Poul Eytherſide. Sometime, to day, I’ll waite vpon her Ladiſhip, 140 With the relation.
Ing. Sir, of what diſpatch, He is! Do you marke?
Mer. Ingine, when did you ſee My couſin Euer-ill? keepes he ſtill your quarter? I’ the Bermudas?
Ing. Yes, Sir, he was writing This morning, very hard.
Mer. Be not you knowne to him, That I am come to Towne: I haue effected 146 A buſineſſe for him, but I would haue it take him, Before he thinks for’t.
Ing. Is it paſt?
Mer. Not yet. ’Tis well o’ the way.
Ing. O Sir! your worſhip takes Infinit paines.
Mer. I loue Friends, to be actiue: 150 A ſluggish nature puts off man, and kinde.
Ing. And ſuch a bleſſing followes it.
Mer. I thanke My fate. Pray you let’s be priuate, Sir?
Fit. In, here.
Mer. Where none may interrupt vs.
Fit. You heare, Diuel, Lock the ſtreete-doores faſt, and let no one in 155 (Except they be this Gentlemans followers) To trouble mee. Doe you marke? Yo’ haue heard and ſeene Something, to day; and, by it, you may gather Your Miſtreſſe is a fruite, that’s worth the ſtealing And therefore worth the watching. Be you ſure, now [115] Yo’ haue all your eyes about you; and let in 161 No lace-woman; nor bawd, that brings French-maſques, And cut-works. See you? Nor old croanes, with wafers, To conuey letters. Nor no youths, diſguis’d Like country-wiues, with creame, and marrow-puddings. 165 Much knauery may be vented in a pudding, Much bawdy intelligence: They’are ſhrewd ciphers. Nor turne the key to any neyghbours neede; Be’t but to kindle fire, or begg a little, Put it out, rather: all out, to an aſhe, 170 That they may ſee no ſmoake. Or water, ſpill it: Knock o’ the empty tubs, that by the ſound, They may be forbid entry. Say, wee are robb’d, If any come to borrow a ſpoone, or ſo. I wi’ not haue good fortune, or gods bleſſing 175 Let in, while I am buſie.
Pvg. I’le take care, Sir: They ſha’ not trouble you, if they would.
Fit. Well, doe ſo.
[265] SD. Meer. ...] A Room in Fitzdottrel’s House. Enter Fitzdottrel, Engine, and Meercraft, followed by Trains with a bag, and three or four Attendants. G
[267] 10 SN. To ...] [To 1 Attendant.] G
[268] 12 done. [Exit 1 Attend.] G
[270] 15 How, talks] How talks 1716, f.
[271] 17 SN.] [To 2 Attendant.] [Exit 2 Atten. G || talke] take 1641, 1716, f.
[272] 18 Myriads 1716 Myriads W myriads G
[273] 20 SN. om. 1641, 1692. 1716, W [to 3 Atten.] G || Mr.] master G passim
[274] 22 it. [Exit 3 Atten.] G || SN. om. 1641, f.
[283] 50 Throughout 1641, 1692, 1716, W Thoroughout G
[285] 62 fellow, [points to Trains] G
[287] 65 chance. [Trains gives him a paper out of the bag.] G || Project; foure 1641 Project: four 1692, 1716 Project four; W Project four: G || Dog-skinnes] dogs-skins 1641 Dogs Skins 1692, 1716 dogs skins W Dogs’ skins G
[289] 68 Mer. Yes,] included in line 69 1692, 1716, W
[291] 76 SN. Hee ...] [Trains draws out another.] (after ‘hand:’ 76) G
[292] 78 Pr’y thee] Pry’thee W Prithee G
[293] 78-80 Pr’y thee—pound? om. 1692, 1716
[295] 89 Proc’lane 1641 porcelane G
[297] 97 O’] O! G || SN.] [Trains draws out another.] G
[300] 114 subtile 1692, 1716, W
[302] 123 Dividend 1716 dividend W, G
[304] 131 so om. G sir.—Enter Pug. G
[306] 141 relation. [Exit Trains. G
[307] 142 mark? [Aside to Fitz. G
[309] 154 us. [Exeunt Meer. and Engine. G
[310] 157, 161 Yo’haue] You’ve 1716, W
[312] 175 will G§ good fortune, gods blessing] G capitalizes throughout.
Act. II. Scene. II.
Pvg. Miſtreſſe Fitzdottrell.
I haue no ſingular ſeruice of this, now? Nor no ſuperlatiue Maſter? I ſhall wiſh To be in hell againe, at leaſure? Bring, A Vice from thence? That had bin ſuch a ſubtilty, As to bring broad-clothes hither: or tranſport 5 Freſh oranges into Spaine. I finde it, now: My Chiefe was i’ the right. Can any feind Boaſt of a better Vice, then heere by nature, And art, th’are owners of? Hell ne’r owne mee, But I am taken! the fine tract of it 10 Pulls mee along! To heare men ſuch profeſſors Growne in our ſubtleſt Sciences! My firſt Act, now, Shall be, to make this Maſter of mine cuckold: The primitiue worke of darkneſſe, I will practiſe! I will deſerue ſo well of my faire Miſtreſſe, 15 By my diſcoueries, firſt; my counſells after; And keeping counſell, after that: as who, So euer, is one, I’le be another, ſure, I’ll ha’ my ſhare. Most delicate damn’d fleſh! Shee will be! O! that I could ſtay time, now, [116] 20 Midnight will come too faſt vpon mee, I feare, To cut my pleaſure—
Mrs. Fi. Looke at the back-doore, Shee ſends Diuell out. One knocks, ſee who it is.
Pvg. Dainty ſhe-Diuell!
Mrs. Fi. I cannot get this venter of the cloake, Out of my fancie; nor the Gentlemans way, 25 He tooke, which though ’twere ſtrange, yet ’twas handſome, And had a grace withall, beyond the newneſſe. Sure he will thinke mee that dull ſtupid creature, Hee ſaid, and may conclude it; if I finde not Some thought to thanke th’ attemp. He did preſume, 30 By all the carriage of it, on my braine, For anſwer; and will ſweare ’tis very barren, If it can yeeld him no returne. Who is it?
Diuell returnes.
Pvg. Miſtreſſe, it is, but firſt, let me aſſure The excellence, of Miſtreſſes, I am, 35 Although my Maſters man, my Miſstreſſe ſlaue, The ſeruant of her ſecrets, and ſweete turnes, And know, what fitly will conduce to either.
Mrs. Fi. What’s this? I pray you come to your ſelfe and thinke What your part is: to make an anſwer. Tell, 40 Who is it at the doore?
Pvg. The Gentleman, Mrs, Who was at the cloake-charge to ſpeake with you, This morning, who expects onely to take Some ſmall command’ments from you, what you pleaſe, Worthy your forme, hee ſaies, and gentleſt manners. 45
Mrs. Fi. O! you’ll anon proue his hyr’d man, I feare, What has he giu’n you, for this meſſage? Sir, Bid him put off his hopes of ſtraw, and leaue To ſpread his nets, in view, thus. Though they take Maſter Fitz-dottrell, I am no ſuch foule, 50 Nor faire one, tell him, will be had with ſtalking. And wiſh him to for-beare his acting to mee, At the Gentlemans chamber-window in Lincolnes-Inne there, That opens to my gallery: elſe, I ſweare T’acquaint my huſband with his folly, and leaue him 55 To the iuſt rage of his offended iealouſie. Or if your Maſters ſenſe be not ſo quicke To right mee, tell him, I ſhall finde a friend That will repaire mee. Say, I will be quiet. In mine owne houſe? Pray you, in thoſe words giue it him. 60
Pvg. This is ſome foole turn’d!
He goes out.
Mrs. Fi. If he be the Maſter, Now, of that ſtate and wit, which I allow him; Sure, hee will vnderſtand mee: I durſt not Be more direct. For this officious fellow, My husbands new groome, is a ſpie vpon me, 65 I finde already. Yet, if he but tell him This in my words, hee cannot but conceiue [117] Himſelfe both apprehended, and requited. I would not haue him thinke hee met a ſtatue: Or ſpoke to one, not there, though I were ſilent. 70 How now? ha’ you told him?
Pvg. Yes.
Mrs. Fi. And what ſaies he?
Pvg. Sayes he? That which my ſelf would ſay to you, if I durſt. That you are proude, ſweet Miſtreſſe? and with-all, A little ignorant, to entertaine The good that’s proffer’d; and (by your beauties leaue) 75 Not all ſo wiſe, as ſome true politique wife Would be: who hauing match’d with ſuch a Nupſon (I ſpeake it with my Maſters peace) whoſe face Hath left t’accuſe him, now, for’t doth confeſſe him, What you can make him; will yet (out of ſcruple, 80 And a ſpic’d conſcience) defraud the poore Gentleman, At leaſt delay him in the thing he longs for, And makes it hs whole ſtudy, how to compaſſe, Onely a title. Could but he write Cuckold, He had his ends. For, looke you—
Mrs. Fi. This can be 85 None but my husbands wit.
Pvg. My pretious Mrs.
M. Fi. It creaks his Ingine: The groome neuer durſt Be, elſe, so ſaucy—
Pvg. If it were not clearely, His worſhipfull ambition; and the top of it; The very forked top too: why ſhould hee 90 Keepe you, thus mur’d vp in a back-roome, Miſtreſſe, Allow you ne’r a caſement to the ſtreete, Feare of engendering by the eyes, with gallants, Forbid you paper, pen and inke, like Rats-bane. Search your halfe pint of muſcatell, leſt a letter 95 Be ſuncke i’ the pot: and hold your new-laid egge Againſt the fire, leſt any charme be writ there? Will you make benefit of truth, deare Miſtreſſe, If I doe tell it you: I do’t not often? I am ſet ouer you, imploy’d, indeed, 100 To watch your ſteps, your lookes, your very breathings, And to report them to him. Now, if you Will be a true, right, delicate ſweete Miſtreſſe, Why, wee will make a Cokes of this Wiſe Maſter, We will, my Miſtreſſe, an abſolute fine Cokes, 105 And mock, to ayre, all the deepe diligences Of ſuch a ſolemne, and effectuall Aſſe, An Aſſe to ſo good purpoſe, as wee’ll vſe him. I will contriue it ſo, that you ſhall goe To Playes, to Maſques, to Meetings, and to Feaſts. 110 For, why is all this Rigging, and fine Tackle, Miſtris, If you neat handſome veſſells, of good ſayle, Put not forth euer, and anon, with your nets Abroad into the world. It is your fiſhing. [118] There, you ſhal chooſe your friends, your ſeruants, Lady, Your ſquires of honour; I’le conuey your letters, 116 Fetch anſwers, doe you all the offices, That can belong to your bloud, and beauty. And, For the variety, at my times, although I am not in due ſymmetrie, the man 120 Of that proportion; or in rule Of phyſicke, of the iuſt complexion: Or of that truth of Picardill, in clothes, To boaſt a ſoueraignty o’re Ladies: yet I know, to do my turnes, ſweet Miſtreſſe. Come, kiſſe—
Mrs. Fi. How now!
Pvg. Deare delicate Miſt. I am your ſlaue, 126 Your little worme, that loues you: your fine Monkey; Your Dogge, your Iacke, your Pug, that longs to be Stil’d, o’ your pleaſures.
Mrs. Fit. Heare you all this? Sir, Pray you, Come from your ſtanding, doe, a little, ſpare 130 Shee thinkes her huſband watches. Your ſelfe, Sir, from your watch, t’applaud your Squire, That ſo well followes your inſtructions!
[315] 9 they’re 1716, f. || never G
[317] 22 pleasure—Enter Mrs. Fitzdottrel. SN. om. G
[324] 41 it om. 1692, f. || Mrs] Mistresse 1641 Mistris 1692 Mistress 1716 mistress W, G
[326] 59 Period om. after ‘quiet’ 1716, f.
[332] 86 Mrs. as in 2. 2. 41 || wit. [Aside. G
[339] 126 Mist.] as in 2. 2. 41
Act. II. Scene. III.
Fitz-dottrell. Miſtreſſe Fitz-dottrel. Pvg.
How now, ſweet heart? what’s the matter?
Mrs. Fi. Good! You are a ſtranger to the plot! you ſet not Your fancy Diuell, here, to tempt your wife, With all the inſolent vnciuill language, Or action, he could vent?
Fit. Did you so, Diuell? 5
Mrs. Fit. Not you? you were not planted i’ your hole to heare him, Vpo’ the ſtayres? or here, behinde the hangings? I doe not know your qualities? he durſt doe it, And you not giue directions?
Fit. You shall ſee, wife, Whether he durſt, or no: and what it was, 10 I did direct.
Her huſband goes out, and enters presently with a cudgell vpon him.
Pvg. Sweet Miſtreſſe, are you mad?
Fit. You moſt mere Rogue! you open manifeſt Villaine! You Feind apparant you! you declar’d Hel-hound!
Pvg. Good Sr.
Fit. Good Knaue, good Raſcal, and good Traitor. Now, I doe finde you parcel-Diuell, indeed. 15 Vpo’ the point of truſt? I’ your firſt charge? The very day o’ your probation? To tempt your Miſtreſſe? You doe ſee, good wedlocke, How I directed him.
Mrs. Fit. Why, where Sr? were you? [119]
Fit. Nay, there is one blow more, for exerciſe: 20 After a pause. He ſtrikes him againe I told you, I ſhould doe it.
Pvg. Would you had done, Sir.
Fit. O wife, the rareſt man! yet there’s another To put you in mind o’ the laſt, ſuch a braue man, wife! Within, he has his proiects, and do’s vent ’hem, and againe. The gallanteſt! where you tentiginous? ha? 25 Would you be acting of the Incubus? Did her ſilks ruſtling moue you?
Pvg. Gentle Sir.
Fit. Out of my ſight. If thy name were not Diuell, Thou ſhouldſt not ſtay a minute with me. In, Goe, yet ſtay: yet goe too. I am reſolu’d. 30 What I will doe: and you ſhall know’t afore-hand. Soone as the Gentleman is gone, doe you heare? I’ll helpe your liſping. Wife, ſuch a man, wife! Diuell goes out. He has ſuch plots! He will make mee a Duke! No leſſe, by heauen! ſix Mares, to your coach, wife! 35 That’s your proportion! And your coach-man bald! Becauſe he ſhall be bare, inough. Doe not you laugh, We are looking for a place, and all, i’ the map What to be of. Haue faith, be not an Infidell. You know, I am not eaſie to be gull’d. 40 I ſweare, when I haue my millions, elſe. I’ll make Another Dutcheſſe: if you ha’ not faith.
Mrs. Fi. You’ll ha’ too much, I feare, in theſe falſe ſpirits.
Fit. Spirits? O, no such thing! wife! wit, mere wit! This man defies the Diuell, and all his works! 45 He dos’t by Ingine, and deuiſes, hee! He has his winged ploughes, that goe with ſailes, Will plough you forty acres, at once! and mills. Will ſpout you water, ten miles off! All Crowland Is ours, wife; and the fens, from vs, in Norfolke, 50 To the vtmoſt bound of Lincoln-ſhire! we haue view’d it, And meaſur’d it within all; by the ſcale! The richeſt tract of land, Loue, i’ the kingdome! There will be made ſeuenteene, or eighteene millions; Or more, as’t may be handled! wherefore, thinke, 55 Sweet heart, if th’ haſt a fancy to one place, More then another, to be Dutcheſſe of; Now, name it: I will ha’t what ere it coſt, (If’t will be had for money) either here, 59 Or’n France, or Italy.
Mrs. Fi. You ha’ ſtrange phantaſies!
[342] SD. om. Enter Fitzdottrel. G
[346] 10, 11 Whether ... direct.] All in line 10. 1692, 1716
[347] 11 SN.] [Exit. Re-enter Fitzdottrel with a cudgel. G
[348] 18 mistress! [Beats Pug. G
[349] 20 SN.] [Strikes him again. G
[350] 22, 23 yet ... last] euclosed by () W, G
[352] 25 where] were 1716, W Were G
[353] 24 SN.] [Beats him again.] G
[355] 46 Engine 1716 Engine W engine G
[356] 51 bounds 1692, f. || of] in G
[359] 60 Or’n] Or’in 1692 Or in 1716, f.
Act. II. Scene. IV.
Mere-craft. Fitz-dottrell.
Ingine.
Where are you, Sir?
Fit. I ſee thou haſt no talent [120] This way, wife. Vp to thy gallery; doe, Chuck, Leaue vs to talke of it, who vnderſtand it.
Mer. I thinke we ha’ found a place to fit you, now, Sir. Gloc’ſter.
Fit. O, no, I’ll none!
Mer. Why, Sr?
Fit. Tis fatall. 5
Mer. That you ſay right in. Spenſer, I thinke, the younger, Had his laſt honour thence. But, he was but Earle.
Fit. I know not that, Sir. But Thomas of Woodſtocke, I’m ſure, was Duke, and he was made away, At Calice; as Duke Humphrey was at Bury: 10 And Richard the third, you know what end he came too.
Mer. By m’faith you are cunning i’ the Chronicle, Sir.
Fit. No, I confeſſe I ha’t from the Play-bookes, And thinke they’are more authentique.
Ing. That’s ſure, Sir.
Mer. What ſay you (to this then)
He whiſpers him of a place.
Fit. No, a noble houſe. 15 Pretends to that. I will doe no man wrong.
Mer. Then take one propoſition more, and heare it As paſt exception.
Fit. What’s that?
Mer. To be Duke of thoſe lands, you ſhall recouer; take Your title, thence, Sir, Duke of the Drown’d lands, 20 Or Drown’d-land.
Fit. Ha? that laſt has a good ſound! I like it well. The Duke of Drown’d-land?
Ing. Yes; It goes like Groen-land, Sir, if you marke it.
Mer. I, And drawing thus your honour from the worke, You make the reputation of that, greater; 25 And ſtay’t the longer i’ your name.
Fit. ’Tis true. Drown’d-lands will liue in Drown’d-land!
Mer. Yes, when you Ha’ no foote left; as that muſt be, Sir, one day. And, though it tarry in your heyres, some forty, Fifty deſcents, the longer liuer, at laſt, yet, 30 Muſt thruſt ’hem out on’t: if no quirk in law, Or odde Vice o’ their owne not do’it firſt. Wee ſee thoſe changes, daily: the faire lands, That were the Clyents, are the Lawyers, now: And thoſe rich Mannors, there, of good man Taylors, 35 Had once more wood vpon ’hem, then the yard, By which th’ were meaſur’d out for the laſt purchaſe. [121] Nature hath theſe viciſſitudes. Shee makes No man a ſtate of perpetuety, Sir.
Fit. Yo’ are i’ the right. Let’s in then, and conclude. 40 Hee ſpies Diuell. I my ſight, againe? I’ll talke with you, anon.
[360] SD. Act. ...] om. Enter Meercraft and Engine. G
[362] 6 comma after ‘thinke’ om. 1692, f.
[366] 15 SN.] [whispers him.] G
[367] 15 period after ‘house’ om. 1716, f.
[371] 40 You’re 1716, W || SN.] Re-enter Pug. G
[372] 41 [Exeunt Fitz. Meer. and Engine. G || I] I’ 1716, W In G
Act. II. Scene. V.
Pvg.
Svre hee will geld mee, if I stay: or worſe, Pluck out my tongue, one o’ the two. This Foole, There is no truſting of him: and to quit him, Were a contempt againſt my Chiefe, paſt pardon. It was a ſhrewd diſheartning this, at firſt! 5 Who would ha’ thought a woman ſo well harneſs’d, Or rather well-capariſon’d, indeed, That weares ſuch petticoates, and lace to her ſmocks, Broad ſeaming laces (as I ſee ’hem hang there) And garters which are loſt, if ſhee can ſhew ’hem, 10 Could ha’ done this? Hell! why is ſhee ſo braue? It cannot be to pleaſe Duke Dottrel, ſure, Nor the dull pictures, in her gallery, Nor her owne deare reflection, in her glaſſe; Yet that may be: I haue knowne many of ’hem, 15 Beginne their pleaſure, but none end it, there: (That I conſider, as I goe a long with it) They may, for want of better company, Or that they thinke the better, ſpend an houre; Two, three, or foure, diſcourſing with their ſhaddow: 20 But ſure they haue a farther ſpeculation. No woman dreſt with ſo much care, and ſtudy, Doth dreſſe her ſelfe in vaine. I’ll vexe this probleme, A little more, before I leaue it, ſure.
Act. IJ. Scene. VI.
Wittipol. Manly. Miſtreſſe Fitz-dottrel.
Pvg.
This was a fortune, happy aboue thought, [122] That this ſhould proue thy chamber: which I fear’d Would be my greateſt trouble! this muſt be The very window, and that the roome.
Man. It is. I now remember, I haue often ſeene there 5 A woman, but I neuer mark’d her much.
Wit. Where was your ſoule, friend?
Man. Faith, but now, and then, Awake vnto thoſe obiects.
Wit. You pretend ſo. Let mee not liue, if I am not in loue More with her wit, for this direction, now, 10 Then with her forme, though I ha’ prais’d that prettily, Since I ſaw her, and you, to day. Read thoſe. Hee giues him a paper, wherein is the copy of a Song. They’ll goe vnto the ayre you loue ſo well. Try ’hem vnto the note, may be the muſique Will call her ſooner; light, ſhee’s here. Sing quickly. 15
Mrs. Fit. Either he vnderſtood him not: or elſe, The fellow was not faithfull in deliuery, Of what I bad. And, I am iuſtly pay’d, That might haue made my profit of his ſeruice, But, by miſ-taking, haue drawne on his enuy, 20 And done the worſe defeate vpon my ſelfe. Manly ſings, Pug enters perceiues it. How! Muſique? then he may be there: and is sure.
Pvg. O! Is it ſo? Is there the enter-view? Haue I drawne to you, at laſt, my cunning Lady? The Diuell is an Aſſe! fool’d off! and beaten! 25 Nay, made an inſtrument! and could not ſent it! Well, ſince yo’ haue ſhowne the malice of a woman, No leſſe then her true wit, and learning, Miſtreſſe, I’ll try, if little Pug haue the malignity To recompence it, and ſo ſaue his danger. 30 ’Tis not the paine, but the diſcredite of it, The Diuell ſhould not keepe a body intire.
Wit. Away, fall backe, ſhe comes.
Man. I’ll leaue you, Sir, The Maſter of my chamber. I haue buſineſſe.
Wit. Mrs!
Mrs. Fi. You make me paint, Sr.
Wit. The’are faire colours, 35 Lady, and naturall! I did receiue Some commands from you, lately, gentle Lady, [123] This Scene is acted at two windo’s as out of two contiguous buildings. But ſo perplex’d, and wrap’d in the deliuery, As I may feare t’haue miſ-interpreted: But muſt make ſuit ſtill, to be neere your grace. 40
Mrs. Fi. Who is there with you, Sr?
Wit. None, but my ſelfe. It falls out. Lady, to be a deare friends lodging. Wherein there’s ſome conſpiracy of fortune With your poore ſeruants bleſ affections.
Mrs. Fi. Who was it ſung?
Wit. He, Lady, but hee’s gone, 45 Vpon my entreaty of him, ſeeing you Approach the window. Neither need you doubt him, If he were here. He is too much a gentleman.
Mrs. Fi. Sir, if you iudge me by this ſimple action, And by the outward habite, and complexion 50 Of eaſineſſe, it hath, to your deſigne; You may with Iuſtice, ſay, I am a woman: And a ſtrange woman. But when you ſhall pleaſe, To bring but that concurrence of my fortune, To memory, which to day your ſelfe did vrge: 55 It may beget ſome fauour like excuſe, Though none like reaſon.
Wit. No, my tune-full Miſtreſſe? Then, ſurely, Loue hath none: nor Beauty any; Nor Nature violenced, in both theſe: With all whoſe gentle tongues you ſpeake, at once. 60 I thought I had inough remou’d, already, That ſcruple from your breſt, and left yo’ all reaſon; When, through my mornings perſpectiue I ſhewd you A man ſo aboue excuſe, as he is the cauſe, Why any thing is to be done vpon him: 65 And nothing call’d an iniury, miſ-plac’d. I’rather, now had hope, to ſhew you how Loue By his acceſſes, growes more naturall: And, what was done, this morning, with ſuch force Was but deuis’d to ſerue the preſent, then. 70 That ſince Loue hath the honour to approach He grows more familiar in his Court-ſhip. Theſe ſiſter-ſwelling breſts; and touch this ſoft, And roſie hand; hee hath the skill to draw Their Nectar forth, with kiſſing; and could make More wanton ſalts, from this braue promontory, 75 Downe to this valley, then the nimble Roe; playes with her paps, kiſſeth her hands, &c. Could play the hopping Sparrow, ’bout theſe nets; And ſporting Squirell in theſe criſped groues; Bury himſelfe in euery Silke-wormes kell, Is here vnrauell’d; runne into the ſnare, 80 Which euery hayre is, caſt into a curle, To catch a Cupid flying: Bath himselfe In milke, and roſes, here, and dry him, there; Warme his cold hands, to play with this ſmooth, round, [124] And well torn’d chin, as with the Billyard ball; 85 Rowle on theſe lips, the banks of loue, and there At once both plant, and gather kiſſes. Lady, Shall I, with what I haue made to day here, call All ſenſe to wonder, and all faith to ſigne The myſteries reuealed in your forme? 90 And will Loue pardon mee the blasphemy I vtter’d, when I ſaid, a glaſſe could ſpeake This beauty, or that fooles had power to iudge it?
Doe but looke, on her eyes! They doe light— All that Loue’s world comprizeth! 95 Doe but looke on her hayre! it is bright, As Loue’s ſtarre, when it riſeth! Doe but marke, her fore-head’s ſmoother, Then words that ſooth her! And from her arched browes, ſuch a grace 100 Sheds it ſelfe through the face; As alone, there triumphs to the life, All the gaine, all the good, of the elements ſtrife!
Haue you ſeene but a bright Lilly grow, Before rude hands haue touch’d it? 105 Haue you mark’d but the fall of the Snow, Before the ſoyle hath ſmuch’d it? Haue you felt the wooll o’ the Beuer? Or Swans downe, euer? Or, haue ſmelt o’ the bud o’ the Bryer? 110 Or the Nard i’ the fire? Or, haue taſted the bag o’ the Bee? O, ſo white! O, ſo ſoft! O, ſo ſweet is ſhee!
[378] SD. Act. ...] om. Scene II. Manly’s Chambers in Lincoln’s Inn, opposite Fitzdottrel’s House. Enter Wittipol and Manly. G
[379] 12 SN.] [Gives him the copy of a song. G
[380] 15 Mrs. Fitzdottrel appears at a window of her house fronting that of Manly’s Chambers. G
[381] 21 worst W || SN. enters] enters and 1716, W || Manly ...] Manly sings. Enter Pug behind. G
[385] 32 entire W, G || [Aside and exit. G
[388] 35 Mrs!] Mis! 1641 the rest as in 2. 2. 41 || They’re 1716, W they are G || Mrs. Fitz. [advances to the window.] G
[389] 35, 36 The’are ... receiue] one line 1692, 1716, W
[395] 75 ’salts 1692 ’saults 1716
[396] 81 is, cast] is cast 1716, W
Act. II. Scene. VII.
Fitz-dottrell. Wittipol. Pvg.
Her huſband appeares at her back. Is shee ſo, Sir? and, I will keepe her ſo. If I know how, or can: that wit of man Will doe’t, I’ll goe no farther. At this windo’ She ſhall no more be buz’d at. Take your leaue on’t. If you be ſweet meates, wedlock, or ſweet fleſh, 5 All’s one: I doe not loue this hum about you. A flye-blowne wife is not ſo proper, In: [125] For you, Sr, looke to heare from mee.
Hee ſpeakes out of his wiues window.
Wit. So, I doe, Sir.
Fit. No, but in other termes. There’s no man offers This to my wife, but paies for’t.
Wit. That haue I, Sir.
Fit. Nay, then, I tell you, you are.
Wit. What am I, Sir? 11
Fit. Why, that I’ll thinke on, when I ha’ cut your throat.
Wit. Goe, you are an Aſſe.
Fit. I am reſolu’d on’t, Sir.
Wit. I thinke you are.
Fit. To call you to a reckoning.
Wit. Away, you brokers blocke, you property. 15
Fit. S’light, if you ſtrike me, I’ll ſtrike your Miſtreſſe.
Hee ſtrikes his wife.
Wit. O! I could ſhoote mine eyes at him, for that, now; Or leaue my teeth in’him, were they cuckolds bane, Inough to kill him. What prodigious, Blinde, and moſt wicked change of fortune’s this? 20 I ha’ no ayre of patience: an my vaines Swell, and my ſinewes ſtart at iniquity of it. I ſhall breake, breake.
The Diuell ſpeakes below.
Pvg. This for the malice of it, And my reuenge may paſſe! But, now, my conſcience Tells mee, I haue profited the cauſe of Hell 25 But little, in the breaking-off their loues. Which, if some other act of mine repaire not, I ſhall heare ill of in my accompt.
Fitz-dottrel enters with his wife as come downe.
Fit. O, Bird! Could you do this? ’gainſt me? and at this time, now? When I was ſo imploy’d, wholly for you, 30 Drown’d i’ my care (more, then the land, I ſweare, I’haue hope to win) to make you peere-leſſe? ſtudying, For footemen for you, fine pac’d huiſhers, pages, To ſerue you o’ the knee; with what Knights wife, To beare your traine, and ſit with your foure women 35 In councell, and receiue intelligences, From forraigne parts, to dreſſe you at all pieces! Y’haue (a’moſt) turn’d my good affection, to you; Sowr’d my ſweet thoughts; all my pure purpoſes: I could now finde (i’ my very heart) to make 40 Another, Lady Dutcheſſe; and depoſe you. Well, goe your waies in. Diuell, you haue redeem’d all. I doe forgiue you. And I’ll doe you good.
[404] SD. om. SN.] Fitz-dottrell appears at his Wife’s back. G
[405] 8 SN. om. G || you,] you, you, W, G
[409] 16 SN.] [Strikes Mrs. Fitz. and leads her out. G
[412] 23 SN. om [Exit. Scene III. Another Room in Fitzdottrel’s House. Enter Pug. G
[413] 28 in om. 1641 || SN.] Enter Fitzdottrel and his wife. G
[416] 38 You’ve 1716, f. || almost W, G
Act. II. Scene. VIIJ.
Mere-craft. Fitz-dottrel. Ingine.
Traines.
Why ha you theſe excurſions? where ha’ you beene, Sir? [126]
Fit. Where I ha’ beene vex’d a little, with a toy!
Mer. O Sir! no toyes muſt trouble your graue head, Now it is growing to be great. You muſt Be aboue all thoſe things.
Fit. Nay, nay, ſo I will. 5
Mer. Now you are to’ard the Lord, you muſt put off The man, Sir.
Ing. He ſaies true.
Mer. You muſt do nothing As you ha’ done it heretofore; not know, Or ſalute any man.
Ing. That was your bed-fellow, The other moneth.
Mer. The other moneth? the weeke. 10 Thou doſt not know the priueledges, Ingine, Follow that Title; nor how ſwift: To day, When he has put on his Lords face once, then—
Fit. Sir, for theſe things I ſhall doe well enough, There is no feare of me. But then, my wife is 15 Such an vntoward thing! ſhee’ll neuer learne How to comport with it. I am out of all Conceipt, on her behalfe.
Mer. Beſt haue her taught, Sir.
Fit. Where? Are there any Schooles for Ladies? Is there An Academy for women? I doe know, 20 For men, there was: I learn’d in it, my ſelfe, To make my legges, and doe my poſtures.
Ing. Sir. Doe you remember the conceipt you had— O’ the Spaniſh gowne, at home?
Ingine whiſpers Merecraft, Merecraft turnes to Fitz-dottrel.
Mer. Ha! I doe thanke thee, With all my heart, deare Ingine. Sir, there is 25 A certaine Lady, here about the Towne, An Engliſh widdow, who hath lately trauell’d, But ſhee’s call’d the Spaniard; cauſe ſhe came Lateſt from thence: and keepes the Spaniſh habit. Such a rare woman! all our women heere, 30 That are of ſpirit, and faſhion flocke, vnto her, As to their Preſident; their Law; their Canon; More then they euer did, to Oracle-Foreman. Such rare receipts ſhee has, Sir, for the face; Such oyles; such tinctures; such pomatumn’s; 35 Such perfumes; med’cines; quinteſſences, &c. And ſuch a Miſtreſſe of behauiour; [127] She knowes, from the Dukes daughter, to the Doxey, What is their due iuſt: and no more!
Fit. O Sir! You pleaſe me i’ this, more then mine owne greatneſſe, 40 Where is ſhee? Let vs haue her.
Mer. By your patience, We muſt vſe meanes; caſt how to be acquainted—
Fit. Good, Sr, about it.
Mer. We muſt think how, firſt.
Fit. O! I doe not loue to tarry for a thing, When I haue a mind to’t. You doe not know me. 45 If you doe offer it.
Mer. Your wife muſt ſend Some pretty token to her, with a complement, And pray to be receiu’d in her good graces, All the great Ladies do’t.
Fit. She ſhall, ſhe ſhall, What were it beſt to be?
Mer. Some little toy, 50 I would not haue it any great matter, Sir: A Diamant ring, of forty or fifty pound, Would doe it handſomely: and be a gift Fit for your wife to ſend, and her to take.
Fit. I’ll goe, and tell my wife on’t, ſtreight. 55
Mer. Why this Is well! The clothes we’haue now: But, where’s this Lady? If we could get a witty boy, now, Ingine; That were an excellent cracke: I could inſtruct him, To the true height. For any thing takes this dottrel.
Ing. Why, Sir your beſt will be one o’ the players! 60
Mer. No, there’s no truſting them. They’ll talke on’t, And tell their Poets.
Ing. What if they doe? The ieſt will brooke the Stage. But, there be ſome of ’hem Are very honeſt Lads. There’s Dicke Robinſon A very pretty fellow, and comes often 65 To a Gentlemans chamber, a friends of mine. We had The merrieſt ſupper of it there, one night, The Gentlemans Land-lady invited him To’a Goſſips feaſt. Now, he Sir brought Dick Robinſon, Dreſt like a Lawyers wife, amongſt ’hem all; 70 (I lent him cloathes) but, to ſee him behaue it; And lay the law; and carue; and drinke vnto ’hem; And then talke baudy: and ſend frolicks! o! It would haue burſt your buttons, or not left you A ſeame.
Mer. They ſay hee’s an ingenious youth! 75
Ing. O Sir! and dreſſes himſelfe, the beſt! beyond Forty o’ your very Ladies! did you ne’r ſee him?
Mer. No, I do ſeldome ſee thoſe toyes. But thinke you, That we may haue him?
Ing. Sir, the young Gentleman I tell you of, can command him. Shall I attempt it? 80
Mer. Yes, doe it.
Enters againe.
Fit. S’light, I cannot get my wife To part with a ring, on any termes: and yet, The ſollen Monkey has two.
Mer. It were ’gainst reaſon That you ſhould vrge it; Sir, ſend to a Gold-ſmith, [128] Let not her loſe by’t.
Fit. How do’s ſhe loſe by’t? 85 Is’t not for her?
Mer. Make it your owne bounty, It will ha’ the better ſucceſſe; what is a matter Of fifty pound to you, Sr.
Fit. I’haue but a hundred Pieces, to ſhew here; that I would not breake—
Mer. You ſhall ha’ credit, Sir. I’ll ſend a ticket 90 Vnto my Gold-ſmith. Heer, my man comes too, To carry it fitly. How now, Traines? What birds?
Traines enters.
Tra. Your Couſin Euer-ill met me, and has beat mee, Becauſe I would not tell him where you were: I thinke he has dogd me to the houſe too.
Fit. Well— 95 You ſhall goe out at the back-doore, then, Traines. You muſt get Guilt-head hither, by ſome meanes:
Tra. ’Tis impoſſible!
Fit. Tell him, we haue veniſon, I’ll g’ him a piece, and ſend his wife a Pheſant.
Tra. A Forreſt moues not, till that forty pound, 100 Yo’ had of him, laſt, be pai’d. He keepes more ſtirre, For that ſame petty ſumme, then for your bond Of ſixe; and Statute of eight hundred!
Fit. Tell him Wee’ll hedge in that. Cry vp Fitz-dottrell to him, Double his price: Make him a man of mettall. 105
Tra. That will not need, his bond is current inough.
[419] SD. Act. ...] om. Enter Meercraft and Engine. G || II] III 1641
[420] 6,7 Now ... Sir.] “Now ... sir.” W
[421] 24 SN.] [whispers Meercraft.] G
[424] 31 fashion flocke,] fashion, flock 1692, f.
[428] 52 Diamond 1692, 1716 diamond W, G passim
[431] 64 Dick 1692, 1716 Dick W Dickey G
[434] 81 SN....] Fit.... 1716 Fitz-dottrel ... W Re-enter Fitzdottrel. G
[438] 95, 103 Fit.] Meer. W, G
[440] 99 gi’ 1716, W give G [Exit. G
Act. III. Scene. I.
Gvilt-head. Plvtarchvs.
All this is to make you a Gentleman: I’ll haue you learne, Sonne. Wherefore haue I plac’d you With Sr. Poul Either-ſide, but to haue ſo much Law To keepe your owne? Beſides, he is a Iuſtice, Here i’ the Towne; and dwelling, Sonne, with him, 5 You ſhal learne that in a yeere, ſhall be worth twenty Of hauing ſtay’d you at Oxford, or at Cambridge, Or ſending you to the Innes of Court, or France. I am call’d for now in haſte, by Maſter Meere-craft To truſt Maſter Fitz-dottrel, a good man: 10 I’haue inquir’d him, eighteene hundred a yeere, (His name is currant) for a diamant ring Of forty, ſhall not be worth thirty (thats gain’d) And this is to make you a Gentleman!
Plv. O, but good father, you truſt too much!
Gvi. Boy, boy, 15 We liue, by finding fooles out, to be truſted. Our ſhop-bookes are our paſtures, our corn-grounds, We lay ’hem op’n for them to come into: And when wee haue ’hem there, wee driue ’hem vp In t’one of our two Pounds, the Compters, ſtreight, 20 And this is to make you a Gentleman! Wee Citizens neuer truſt, but wee doe coozen: For, if our debtors pay, wee coozen them; And if they doe not, then we coozen our ſelues. But that’s a hazard euery one muſt runne, 25 That hopes to make his Sonne a Gentleman!
Plv. I doe not wiſh to be one, truely, Father. In a deſcent, or two, wee come to be Iuſt ’itheir ſtate, fit to be coozend, like ’hem. And I had rather ha’ tarryed i’ your trade: 30 For, ſince the Gentry ſcorne the Citty ſo much, [130] Me thinkes we ſhould in time, holding together, And matching in our owne tribes, as they ſay, Haue got an Act of Common Councell, for it, That we might coozen them out of rerum natura. 35
Gvi. I, if we had an Act firſt to forbid The marrying of our wealthy heyres vnto ’hem: And daughters, with ſuch lauiſh portions. That confounds all.
Plv. And makes a Mungril breed, Father. And when they haue your money, then they laugh at you: 40 Or kick you downe the ſtayres. I cannot abide ’hem. I would faine haue ’hem coozen’d, but not truſted.
[442] SD. Act. ... I. ...] Act. ... I. A Room in Fitzdottrel’s House. Enter Thomas Gilthead and Plutarchus. G
[443] 3 to om. 1692 t’ 1716 || Poul] Pould 1641
[446] 15 Boy, boy] Boy, by 1692
[447] 20 two om. 1692, 1716 || Int’one 1716, W into one G
[448] 29 i’ their 1716, W in their G
Act. III. Scene. II.
Mere-craft. Gvilt-head.
Fitz-dottrell. Plvtarchvs.
O, is he come! I knew he would not faile me. Welcome, good Guilt-head, I muſt ha’ you doe A noble Gentleman, a courteſie, here: In a mere toy (ſome pretty Ring, or Iewell) Of fifty, or threeſcore pound (Make it a hundred, 5 And hedge in the laſt forty, that I owe you, And your owne price for the Ring) He’s a good man, Sr, And you may hap’ ſee him a great one! Hee, Is likely to beſtow hundreds, and thouſands, Wi’ you; if you can humour him. A great prince 10 He will be ſhortly. What doe you ſay?
Gvi. In truth, Sir I cannot. ’T has beene a long vacation with vs?
Fit. Of what, I pray thee? of wit? or honesty? Thoſe are your Citizens long vacations.
Plv. Good Father do not truſt ’hem.
Mer. Nay, Thom. Guilt-head. 15 Hee will not buy a courteſie and begge it: Hee’ll rather pay, then pray. If you doe for him, You muſt doe cheerefully. His credit, Sir, Is not yet proſtitute! Who’s this? thy ſonne? A pretty youth, what’s his name?
Plv. Plutarchus, Sir, 20
Mer. Plutarchus! How came that about?
Gvi. That yeere Sr, That I begot him, I bought Plutarch’s liues, And fell ſ’ in loue with the booke, as I call’d my ſonne By’his name; In hope he ſhould be like him: And write the liues of our great men!
Mer. I’ the City? [131] 25 And you do breed him, there?
Gvi. His minde, Sir, lies Much to that way.
Mer. Why, then, he is i’ the right way.
Gvi. But, now, I had rather get him a good wife, And plant him i’ the countrey; there to vſe The bleſſing I ſhall leaue him:
Mer. Out vpon’t! 30 And loſe the laudable meanes, thou haſt at home, heere, T’aduance, and make him a young Alderman? Buy him a Captaines place, for ſhame; and let him Into the world, early, and with his plume, And Scarfes, march through Cheapſide, or along Cornehill, And by the vertue’of thoſe, draw downe a wife 36 There from a windo’, worth ten thouſand pound! Get him the poſture booke, and’s leaden men, To ſet vpon a table, ’gainst his Miſtreſſe Chance to come by, that hee may draw her in, 40 And ſhew her Finsbury battells.
Gvi. I haue plac’d him With Iustice Eytherſide, to get so much law—
Mer. As thou haſt conſcience. Come, come, thou doſt wrong Pretty Plutarchus, who had not his name, For nothing: but was borne to traine the youth 45 Of London, in the military truth— That way his Genius lies. My Couſin Euerill!
[449] SD. Act. ...] Enter Meercraft. G
[450] 7 ring. [Aside to Gilthead.
[455] 45,6 to ... truth] in italics G
Act. III. Scene. IIJ.
Ever-ill. Plvtarchvs. Gvilt-head.
Mere-craft. Fitzdottrell.
O, are you heere, Sir? ’pray you let vs whiſper.
Plv. Father, deare Father, truſt him if you loue mee.
Gvi. Why, I doe meane it, boy; but, what I doe, Muſt not come eaſily from mee: Wee muſt deale With Courtiers, boy, as Courtiers deale with vs. 5 If I haue a Buſineſſe there, with any of them, Why, I muſt wait, I’am ſure on’t, Son: and though My Lord diſpatch me, yet his worſhipfull man— Will keepe me for his ſport, a moneth, or two, To ſhew mee with my fellow Cittizens. 10 I muſt make his traine long, and full, one quarter; And helpe the ſpectacle of his greatneſſe. There, Nothing is done at once, but iniuries, boy: And they come head-long! an their good turnes moue not, [124] Or very ſlowly.
Plv. Yet ſweet father, truſt him. 15
Gvi. VVell, I will thinke.
Ev. Come, you muſt do’t, Sir. I am vndone elſe, and your Lady Tayle-buſh Has ſent for mee to dinner, and my cloaths Are all at pawne. I had ſent out this morning, Before I heard you were come to towne, ſome twenty 20 Of my epiſtles, and no one returne—
Mere-craft tells him of his faults.
Mer. VVhy, I ha’ told you o’ this. This comes of wearing Scarlet, gold lace, and cut-works! your fine gartring! VVith your blowne roſes, Couſin! and your eating Pheſant, and Godwit, here in London! haunting 25 The Globes, and Mermaides! wedging in with Lords, Still at the table! and affecting lechery, In veluet! where could you ha’ contented your ſelfe With cheeſe, ſalt-butter, and a pickled hering, I’ the Low-countries; there worne cloth, and fuſtian! 30 Beene ſatisfied with a leape o’ your Hoſt’s daughter, In garriſon, a wench of a ſtoter! or, Your Sutlers wife, i’ the leaguer, of two blanks! You neuer, then, had runne vpon this flat, To write your letters miſſiue, and ſend out 35 Your priuy ſeales, that thus haue frighted off All your acquaintance; that they ſhun you at diſtance, VVorse, then you do the Bailies!
Ev. Pox vpon you. I come not to you for counſell, I lacke money.
Hee repines.
Mer. You doe not thinke, what you owe me already?
Ev. I? 40 They owe you, that meane to pay you. I’ll beſworne, I neuer meant it. Come, you will proiect, I ſhall vndoe your practice, for this moneth elſe: You know mee. and threatens him.
Mer. I, yo’ are a right ſweet nature!
Ev. Well, that’s all one!
Mer. You’ll leaue this Empire, one day? 45 You will not euer haue this tribute payd, Your ſcepter o’ the ſword?
Ev. Tye vp your wit, Doe, and prouoke me not—
Mer. Will you, Sir, helpe, To what I ſhall prouoke another for you?
Ev. I cannot tell; try me: I thinke I am not 50 So vtterly, of an ore vn-to-be-melted, But I can doe my ſelfe good, on occaſions.
They ioyne.
Mer. Strike in then, for your part. Mr. Fitz-dottrel If I tranſgreſſe in point of manners, afford mee Your beſt conſtruction; I muſt beg my freedome 55 From your affayres, this day.
Fit. How, Sr.
Mer. It is In ſuccour of this Gentlemans occaſions, My kinſ-man— Mere-craft pretends buſineſſe.
Fit. You’ll not do me that affront, Sr.
Mer. I am ſory you ſhould ſo interpret it, But, Sir, it ſtands vpon his being inueſted 60 In a new office, hee has ſtood for, long: [133]
Mere-craft describes the office of Dependancy.
Maſter of the Dependances! A place Of my proiection too, Sir, and hath met Much oppoſition; but the State, now, ſee’s That great neceſſity of it, as after all 65 Their writing, and their ſpeaking, againſt Duells, They haue erected it. His booke is drawne— For, ſince, there will be differences, daily, ’Twixt Gentlemen; and that the roaring manner Is growne offenſiue; that thoſe few, we call 70 The ciuill men o’ the ſword, abhorre the vapours; They ſhall refer now, hither, for their proceſſe; And ſuch as treſſpaſe ’gainſt the rule of Court, Are to be fin’d—
Fit. In troth, a pretty place!
Mer. A kinde of arbitrary Court ’twill be, Sir. 75
Fit. I ſhall haue matter for it, I beleeue, Ere it be long: I had a diſtaſt.
Mer. But now, Sir, My learned councell, they muſt haue a feeling, They’ll part, Sir, with no bookes, without the hand-gout Be oyld, and I muſt furniſh. If’t be money, 80 To me ſtreight. I am Mine, Mint and Exchequer. To ſupply all. What is’t? a hundred pound?
Eve. No, th’ Harpey, now, ſtands on a hundred pieces.
Mer. Why, he muſt haue ’hem, if he will. To morrow, Sir, Will equally ſerue your occaſion’s,—— 85 And therefore, let me obtaine, that you will yeeld To timing a poore Gentlemans diſtreſſes, In termes of hazard.—
Fit. By no meanes!
Mer. I muſt Get him this money, and will.—
Fit. Sir, I proteſt, I’d rather ſtand engag’d for it my ſelfe: 90 Then you ſhould leaue mee.
Mer. O good Sr. do you thinke So courſely of our manners, that we would, For any need of ours, be preſt to take it: Though you be pleas’d to offer it.
Fit. Why, by heauen, I meane it!
Mer. I can neuer beleeue leſſe. 95 But wee, Sir, muſt preſerue our dignity, As you doe publiſh yours. By your faire leaue, Sir.
Hee offers to be gone.
Fit. As I am a Gentleman, if you doe offer To leaue mee now, or if you doe refuſe mee, 99 I will not thinke you loue mee.
Mer. Sir, I honour you. And with iuſt reaſon, for theſe noble notes, Of the nobility, you pretend too! But, Sir— I would know, why? a motiue (he a ſtranger) You ſhould doe this?
(Eve. You’ll mar all with your fineneſſe)
Fit. Why, that’s all one, if ’twere, Sir, but my fancy. 105 But I haue a Buſineſſe, that perhaps I’d haue Brought to his office.
Mer. O, Sir! I haue done, then; If hee can be made profitable, to you. [134]
Fit. Yes, and it ſhall be one of my ambitions To haue it the firſt Buſineſſe? May I not? 110
Eve. So you doe meane to make’t, a perfect Buſineſſe.
Fit. Nay, I’ll doe that, aſſure you: ſhew me once.
Mer. Sr, it concernes, the firſt be a perfect Buſineſſe, For his owne honour!
Eve. I, and th’ reputation Too, of my place.
Fit. Why, why doe I take this courſe, elſe? 115 I am not altogether, an Aſſe, good Gentlemen, Wherefore ſhould I conſult you? doe you thinke? To make a ſong on’t? How’s your manner? tell vs.
Mer. Doe, ſatisfie him: giue him the whole courſe.
Eve. Firſt, by requeſt, or otherwiſe, you offer 120 Your Buſineſſe to the Court: wherein you craue: The iudgement of the Maſter and the Aſsiſtants.
Fit. Well, that’s done, now, what doe you vpon it?
Eve. We ſtreight Sr, haue recourſe to the ſpring-head; Viſit the ground; and, ſo diſcloſe the nature: 125 If it will carry, or no. If wee doe finde, By our proportions it is like to proue A ſullen, and blacke Bus’neſſe That it be Incorrigible; and out of, treaty; then. We file it, a Dependance!
Fit. So ’tis fil’d. 130 What followes? I doe loue the order of theſe things.
Eve. We then aduiſe the party, if he be A man of meanes, and hauings, that forth-with, He ſettle his eſtate: if not, at leaſt That he pretend it. For, by that, the world 135 Takes notice, that it now is a Dependance. And this we call, Sir, Publication.
Fit. Very ſufficient! After Publication, now?
Eve. Then we grant out our Proceſſe, which is diuers; Eyther by Chartell, Sir, or ore-tenus, 140 Wherein the Challenger, and Challengee Or (with your Spaniard) your Prouocador, And Prouocado, haue their ſeuerall courſes—
Fit. I haue enough on’t! for an hundred pieces? Yes, for two hundred, vnder-write me, doe. 145 Your man will take my bond?
Mer. That he will, ſure. But, theſe ſame Citizens, they are ſuch ſharks! There’s an old debt of forty, I ga’ my word For one is runne away, to the Bermudas, And he will hooke in that, or he wi’ not doe. 150
He whiſpers Fitz-dottrell aſide.
Fit. Why, let him. That and the ring, and a hundred pieces, Will all but make two hundred?
Mer. No, no more, Sir. What ready Arithmetique you haue? doe you heare? And then Guilt-head. A pretty mornings worke for you, this? Do it, You ſhall ha’ twenty pound on’t.
Gvi. Twenty pieces? [135] 155
(Plv. Good Father, do’t)
Mer. You will hooke ſtill? well, Shew vs your ring. You could not ha’ done this, now With gentleneſſe, at firſt, wee might ha’ thank’d you? But groane, and ha’ your courteſies come from you Like a hard ſtoole, and ſtinke? A man may draw 160 Your teeth out eaſier, then your money? Come, Were little Guilt-head heere, no better a nature, I ſhould ne’r loue him, that could pull his lips off, now! He pulls Plutarchus by the lips. Was not thy mother a Gentlewoman?
Plv. Yes, Sir.
Mer. And went to the Court at Chriſtmas, and St. Georges-tide? 165 And lent the Lords-men, chaines?
Plv. Of gold, and pearle, Sr.
Mer. I knew, thou muſt take, after ſome body! Thou could’ſt not be elſe. This was no ſhop-looke! I’ll ha’ thee Captaine Guilt-head, and march vp, And take in Pimlico, and kill the buſh, 170 At euery tauerne! Thou shalt haue a wife, If ſmocks will mount, boy. How now? you ha’ there now Some Briſto-ſtone, or Corniſh counterfeit You’ld put vpon vs. He turns to old Guilt-head.
Gvi. No, Sir I aſſure you: Looke on his luſter! hee will ſpeake himſelfe! 175 I’le gi’ you leaue to put him i’ the Mill, H’is no great, large ſtone, but a true Paragon, H’has all his corners, view him well.
Mer. H’is yellow.
Gvi. Vpo’ my faith, Sr, o’ the right black-water, And very deepe! H’is ſet without a foyle, too. 180 Here’s one o’ the yellow-water, I’ll ſell cheape.
Mer. And what do you valew this, at? thirty pound?
Gvi. No, Sir, he cost me forty, ere he was ſet.
Mer. Turnings, you meane? I know your Equinocks: You’are growne the better Fathers of ’hem o’ late. 185 Well, where’t muſt goe, ’twill be iudg’d, and, therefore, Looke you’t be right. You ſhall haue fifty pound for’t. Now to Fitz-dottrel. Not a deneer more! And, becauſe you would Haue things diſpatch’d, Sir, I’ll goe preſently, Inquire out this Lady. If you thinke good, Sir. 190 Hauing an hundred pieces ready, you may Part with thoſe, now, to ſerue my kinſmans turnes, That he may wait vpon you, anon, the freer; And take ’hem when you ha’ ſeal’d, a game, of Guilt-head.
Fit. I care not if I do!
Mer. And diſpatch all, 195 Together.
Fit. There, th’are iuſt: a hundred pieces! I’ ha’ told ’hem ouer, twice a day, theſe two moneths.
Hee turnes ’hem out together. And Euerill and hee fall to ſhare.
Mer. Well, go, and ſeale, then, Sr, make your returne As ſpeedy as you can.
Eve. Come gi’ mee.
Mer. Soft, Sir.
Eve. Mary, and faire too, then. I’ll no delaying, Sir. 200
Mer. But, you will heare?
Eve. Yes, when I haue my diuident.
Mer. Theres forty pieces for you.
Eve. What is this for? [136]
Mer. Your halfe. You know, that Guilt-head muſt ha’ twenty.
Eve. And what’s your ring there? ſhall I ha’ none o’ that?
Mer. O, thats to be giuen to a Lady! 205
Eve. Is’t ſo?
Mer. By that good light, it is.
Ev. Come, gi’ me Ten pieces more, then.
Mer. Why?
Ev. For Guilt-head? Sir, Do’you thinke, I’ll ’low him any ſuch ſhare:
Mer. You muſt.
Eve. Muſt I? Doe you your muſts, Sir, I’ll doe mine, You wi’ not part with the whole, Sir? Will you? Goe too. 210 Gi’ me ten pieces!
Mer. By what law, doe you this?
Eve. E’n Lyon-law, Sir, I muſt roare elſe.
Eve. Yo’ haue heard, how th’ Aſſe made his diuiſions, wiſely?
Mer. And, I am he: I thanke you.
Ev. Much good do you, Sr.
Mer. I ſhall be rid o’ this tyranny, one day?
Eve. Not, While you doe eate; and lie, about the towne, here; 216 And coozen i’ your bullions; and I ſtand Your name of credit, and compound your buſineſſe; Adiourne your beatings euery terme; and make New parties for your proiects. I haue, now, 220 A pretty taſque, of it, to hold you in Wi’ your Lady Tayle-buſh: but the toy will be, How we ſhall both come off?
Mer. Leaue you your doubting. And doe your portion, what’s aſſign’d you: I Neuer fail’d yet.
Eve. With reference to your aydes? 225 You’ll ſtill be vnthankfull. Where ſhall I meete you, anon? You ha’ ſome feate to doe alone, now, I ſee; You wiſh me gone, well, I will finde you out, And bring you after to the audit.
Mer. S’light! There’s Ingines ſhare too, I had forgot! This raigne 230 Is too-too-vnſuportable! I muſt Quit my ſelfe of this vaſſalage! Ingine! welcome.
[460] 16 think. [They walk aside. G
[464] 32 Storer 1716 storer W, G
[466] 38 Bayliffs 1716 bailiffs W, G
[469] 52 Enter Fitzdottrel. || SN. om. G
[470] 53 part. [They go up to Fitz.] G
[476] 104 Ever. [Aside to Meer.]
[483] 150 SN.] [Aside to Fitz. G he wi’] he’ll G
[484] 153 SN.] [Aside to Gilthead. G
[486] 163 SN.] [Pulls him by the lips. G
[488] 166 Lords-] lords W lords’ G
[495] 185 You’re 1716, W You are G || ’hem] ’em G || o’ ret. G
[498] 188 dencer 1641 Denier 1716 denier W, G
[499] 196 they’re just a 1716, W they are just a G
[500] 197 SN.] [Turns them out on table. G
[501] 199 can. [Exeunt Fitzdottrel, Gilthead, and Plutarchus.] me. [They fall to sharing. G
[502] 201 Dividend 1716 dividend W, G
[507] 209 you om. 1692, 1716, W
[512] 227 to doe] to be done 1641
[514] 232 vassalage!—Enter Engine, followed by Wittipoll. G
Act. IIJ. Scene. IV.
Mere-craft. Ingine. VVittipol.
How goes the cry?
Ing. Excellent well!
Mer. Wil’t do? VVhere’s Robinſon?
Ing. Here is the Gentleman, Sir. VVill vndertake t’himſelfe. I haue acquainted him.
Mer. VVhy did you ſo?
Ing. VVhy, Robinſon would ha’ told him, You know. And hee’s a pleaſant wit! will hurt 5 Nothing you purpoſe. Then, he’is of opinion, That Robinſon might want audacity, [129] She being ſuch a gallant. Now, hee has beene, In Spaine, and knowes the faſhions there; and can Diſcourſe; and being but mirth (hee ſaies) leaue much, 10 To his care:
Mer. But he is too tall!
He excepts at his ſtature.
Ing. For that, He has the braueſt deuice! (you’ll loue him for’t) To ſay, he weares Cioppinos: and they doe ſo In Spaine. And Robinſon’s as tall, as hee.
Mer. Is he ſo?
Ing. Euery iot.
Mer. Nay, I had rather 15 To truſt a Gentleman with it, o’ the two.
Ing. Pray you goe to him, then, Sir, and ſalute him.
Mer. Sir, my friend Ingine has acquainted you With a ſtrange buſineſſe, here.
Wit. A merry one, Sir. The Duke of Drown’d-land, and his Dutcheſſe?
Mer. Yes, Sir. 20 Now, that the Coniurers ha’ laid him by, I ha’ made bold, to borrow him a while;
Wit. With purpoſe, yet, to put him out I hope To his beſt vſe?
Mer. Yes, Sir.
Wit. For that ſmall part, That I am truſted with, put off your care: 25 I would not loſe to doe it, for the mirth, Will follow of it; and well, I haue a fancy.
Mer. Sir, that will make it well.
Wit. You will report it ſo. Where muſt I haue my dreſſing?
Ing. At my houſe, Sir.
Mer. You ſhall haue caution, Sir, for what he yeelds, 30 To ſix pence.
Wit. You ſhall pardon me. I will ſhare, Sir, I’ your ſports, onely: nothing i’ your purchaſe. But you muſt furniſh mee with complements, To th’ manner of Spaine; my coach, my guarda duenn’as;
Mer. Ingine’s your Pro’uedor. But, Sir, I muſt 35 (Now I’haue entred truſt wi’ you, thus farre) Secure ſtill i’ your quality, acquaint you With ſomewhat, beyond this. The place, deſign’d To be the Scene, for this our mery matter, Becauſe it muſt haue countenance of women, 40 To draw diſcourse, and offer it, is here by, At the Lady Taile-buſhes.
Wit. I know her, Sir. And her Gentleman huiſher.
Mer. Mr Ambler?
Wit. Yes, Sir.
Mer. Sir, It ſhall be no ſhame to mee, to confeſſe To you, that wee poore Gentlemen, that want acres, 45 Muſt for our needs, turne fooles vp, and plough Ladies Sometimes, to try what glebe they are: and this Is no vnfruitefull piece. She, and I now, Are on a proiect, for the fact, and venting Of a new kinde of fucus (paint, for Ladies) 50 To ſerue the kingdome: wherein ſhee her ſelfe Hath trauell’d, ſpecially, by way of ſeruice Vnto her ſexe, and hopes to get the Monopoly, As the reward of her inuention. [138]
Wit. What is her end, in this?
Ev. Merely ambition, 55 Sir, to grow great, and court it with the ſecret: Though ſhee pretend ſome other. For, ſhe’s dealing, Already, vpon caution for the ſhares, And Mr. Ambler, is hee nam’d Examiner For the ingredients; and the Register 60 Of what is vented; and ſhall keepe the Office. Now, if ſhee breake with you, of this (as I Muſt make the leading thred to your acquaintance, That, how experience gotten i’ your being Abroad, will helpe our buſinesse) thinke of ſome 65 Pretty additions, but to keep her floting: It may be, ſhee will offer you a part, Any ſtrange names of—
Wit. Sr, I haue my inſtructions. Is it not high time to be making ready?
Mer. Yes, Sir.
Ing. The foole’s in ſight, Dottrel.
Mer. Away, then. 70
[523] 35 Provedore 1716 provedore W provedoré G
[524] 43 Usher 1716 usher W, G
[525] 47 Sometime 1692, 1716, W
[529] 70 [Exeunt Engine and Wittipol. G
Act. IIJ. Scene. V.
Mere-craft. Fitz-dottrel. Pvg.
Return’d ſo ſoone?
Fit. Yes, here’s the ring: I ha’ ſeal’d. But there’s not ſo much gold in all the row, he ſaies— Till’t come fro’ the Mint. ’Tis tane vp for the gameſters.
Mer. There’s a ſhop-ſhift! plague on ’hem.
Fit. He do’s ſweare it.
Mer. He’ll ſweare, and forſweare too, it is his trade, 5 You ſhould not haue left him.
Fit. S’lid, I can goe backe, And beat him, yet.
Mer. No, now let him alone.
Fit. I was ſo earneſt, after the maine Buſineſſe, To haue this ring, gone.
Mer. True, and ’tis time. I’haue learned, Sir, ſin’ you went, her Ladi-ſhip eats 10 With the Lady Tail-buſh, here, hard by.
Fit. I’ the lane here?
Mer. Yes, if you’had a ſeruant, now of prefence, Well cloth’d, and of an aëry voluble tongue, Neither too bigge, or little for his mouth, That could deliuer your wiues complement; 15 To ſend along withall.
Fit. I haue one Sir, A very handſome, gentleman-like-fellow, That I doe meane to make my Dutcheſſe Vſher— I entertain’d him, but this morning, too: I’ll call him to you. The worſt of him, is his name! 20
Mer. She’ll take no note of that, but of his meſſage. [139]
Hee ſhewes him his Pug.
Fit. Diuell! How like you him, Sir. Pace, go a little. Let’s ſee you moue.
Mer. He’ll ſerue, Sr, giue it him: And let him goe along with mee, I’ll helpe To preſent him, and it.
Fit. Looke, you doe ſirah, 25 Diſcharge this well, as you expect your place. Do’you heare, goe on, come off with all your honours. Giues him inſtructions. I would faine ſee him, do it.
Mer. Truſt him, with it;
Fit. Remember kiſſing of your hand, and anſwering With the French-time, in flexure of your body. 30 I could now ſo inſtruct him—and for his words—
Mer. I’ll put them in his mouth.
Fit. O, but I haue ’hem O’ the very Academies.
Mer. Sir, you’ll haue vſe for ’hem, Anon, your ſelfe, I warrant you: after dinner, When you are call’d.
Fit. S’light, that’ll be iuſt play-time. 35 He longs to ſee the play. It cannot be, I muſt not loſe the play!
Mer. Sir, but you muſt, if ſhe appoint to ſit. And, ſhee’s preſident.
Fit. S’lid, it is the Diuell.
Becauſe it is the Diuell.
Mer. And, ’twere his Damme too, you muſt now apply Your ſelfe, Sir, to this, wholly; or loſe all. 40
Fit. If I could but ſee a piece—
Mer. Sr. Neuer think on’t.
Fit. Come but to one act, and I did not care— But to be ſeene to riſe, and goe away, To vex the Players, and to puniſh their Poet— Keepe him in awe!
Mer. But ſay, that he be one, 45 Wi’ not be aw’d! but laugh at you. How then?
Fit. Then he ſhall pay for his’dinner himſelfe.
Mer. Perhaps, He would doe that twice, rather then thanke you. Come, get the Diuell out of your head, my Lord, (I’ll call you ſo in priuate ſtill) and take 50 Your Lord-ſhip i’ your minde. You were, ſweete Lord, He puts him in mind of his quarrell. In talke to bring a Buſineſſe to the Office.
Fit. Yes.
Mer. Why ſhould not you, Sr, carry it o’ your ſelfe, Before the Office be vp? and ſhew the world, You had no need of any mans direction; 55 In point, Sir, of ſufficiency. I ſpeake Againſt a kinſman, but as one that tenders Your graces good.
Fit. I thanke you; to proceed—
Mer. To Publications: ha’ your Deed drawne preſently. And leaue a blancke to put in your Feoffees 60 One, two, or more, as you ſee cauſe—
Fit. I thank you Heartily, I doe thanke you. Not a word more, I pray you, as you loue mee. Let mee alone. That I could not thinke o’ this, as well, as hee? O, I could beat my infinite blocke-head—! 65
He is angry with himſelfe.
Mer. Come, we muſt this way.
Pvg. How far is’t.
Mer. Hard by here Ouer the way. Now, to atchieue this ring, From this ſame fellow, that is to aſſure it; [140] He thinkes how to coozen the bearer, of the ring. Before hee giue it. Though my Spaniſh Lady, Be a young Gentleman of meanes, and ſcorne 70 To ſhare, as hee doth ſay, I doe not know How ſuch a toy may tempt his Lady-ſhip: And therefore, I thinke beſt, it be aſſur’d.
Pvg. Sir, be the Ladies braue, wee goe vnto?
Mer. O, yes.
Pvg. And ſhall I ſee ’hem, and ſpeake to ’hem? 75
Mer. What elſe? ha’ you your falſe-beard about you? Traines.
Questions his man.
Tra. Yes.
Mer. And is this one of your double Cloakes?
Tra. The beſt of ’hem.
Mer. Be ready then. Sweet Pitfall!
[530] SD. Act. ...] Re-enter Fitzdottrel. G
[532] 8 comma after ‘earnest’ om. 1716, f.
[538] 27 Do’you] D’you 1692, 1716, W
[544] 47 Then] That 1692, 1716 || for’s 1692, f.
[548] 60 leave me a 1692, 1716, W
[549] 65 SN.] [Exeunt. Scene II. The Lane near the Lady Tailbush’s House. Enter Meercraft followed by Pug. G
[550] 67 way. [They cross over.] G
[551] 68 SN. om. G || is] is, W, G
[553] 76 else? Enter Trains. || SN. om. G
[554] 78 then. [Exeunt. Scene III. A Hall in Lady Tailbush’s House. Enter Meercraft and Pug, met by Pitfall. G
Act. IIJ. Scene. VI.
Mere-craft. Pitfall. Pvg.
Traines.
Come, I muſt buſſe—
Offers to kiſſe.
Pit. Away. Mer. I’ll ſet thee vp again. Neuer feare that: canſt thou get ne’r a bird? No Thruſhes hungry? Stay, till cold weather come, I’ll help thee to an Ouſell, or, a Field-fare. Who’s within, with Madame?
Pit. I’ll tell you straight. 5
She runs in, in haſte: he followes.
Mer. Pleaſe you ſtay here, a while Sir, I’le goe in.
Pvg. I doe ſo long to haue a little venery, While I am in this body! I would taſt Of euery ſinne, a little, if it might be After the māner of man! Sweet-heart!
Pit. What would you, Sr? 10
Pug leaps at Pitfall’s comming in.
Pvg. Nothing but fall in, to you, be your Black-bird, My pretty pit (as the Gentleman ſaid) your Throſtle: Lye tame, and taken with you; here’is gold! To buy you ſo much new ſtuffes, from the ſhop, As I may take the old vp—
Tra. You muſt send, Sir. 15 The Gentleman the ring.
Traine’s in his falſe cloak, brings a falſe meſſage, and gets the ring.
Pvg. There ’tis. Nay looke, Will you be fooliſh, Pit.
Pit. This is ſtrange rudeneſſe.
Pvg. Deare Pit.
Pit. I’ll call, I ſweare.
Mere-craft followes preſently, and askes for it.
Mer. Where are you, Sr? Is your ring ready? Goe with me.
Pvg. I ſent it you.
Mer. Me? When? by whom?
Pvg. A fellow here, e’en now, 20 Came for it i’ your name.
Mer. I ſent none, ſure. My meaning euer was, you ſhould deliuer it, Your ſelfe: So was your Maſters charge, you know. Ent. Train’s as himſelfe againe. What fellow was it, doe you know him?
Pvg. Here, But now, he had it.
Mer. Saw you any? Traines? 25
Tra. Not I.
Pvg. The Gentleman ſaw him.
Mer. Enquire.
Pvg. I was ſo earneſt vpon her, I mark’d not! The Diuell confeſſeth himſelfe coozen’d. My diuelliſh Chiefe has put mee here in flesh, [141] To ſhame mee! This dull body I am in, I perceiue nothing with! I offer at nothing, 30 That will ſucceed!
Tra. Sir, ſhe ſaw none, ſhe ſaies.
Pvg. Satan himſelfe, has tane a ſhape t’abuſe me. It could not be elſe.
Mer. This is aboue ſtrange! Mere-craft accuſeth him of negligence. That you ſhould be ſo retchleſſe. What’ll you do, Sir? How will you anſwer this, when you are queſtion’d? 35
Pvg. Run from my fleſh, if I could: put off mankind! This’s ſuch a ſcorne! and will be a new exerciſe, For my Arch-Duke! Woe to the ſeuerall cudgells, Muſt suffer, on this backe! Can you no ſuccours? Sir? 39
He asketh ayde.
Mer. Alas! the vſe of it is ſo preſent.
Pvg. I aske, Sir, credit for another, but till to morrow?
Mer. There is not ſo much time, Sir. But how euer, The lady is a noble Lady, and will (To ſaue a Gentleman from check) be intreated Mere-craft promiſeth faintly, yet comforts him. To ſay, ſhe ha’s receiu’d it.
Pvg. Do you thinke ſo? 45 Will ſhee be won?
Mer. No doubt, to ſuch an office, It will be a Lady’s brauery, and her pride.
Pvg. And not be knowne on’t after, vnto him?
Mer. That were a treachery! Vpon my word, Be confident. Returne vnto your maſter, 50 My Lady Preſident ſits this after-noone, Ha’s tane the ring, commends her ſeruices Vnto your Lady-Dutcheſſe. You may ſay She’s a ciuill Lady, and do’s giue her All her reſpects, already: Bad you, tell her 55 She liues, but to receiue her wiſh’d commandements, And haue the honor here to kiſſe her hands: For which ſhee’ll ſtay this houre yet. Haſten you Your Prince, away.
Pvg. And Sir, you will take care Th’ excuſe be perfect?
Mer. You confeſſe your feares. 60 The Diuel is doubtfull. Too much.
Pvg. The ſhame is more, I’ll quit you of either.
[556] 1 SN.] [Offers to kiss her. G
[557] 5 SN. [Exit hastily. (after 5) [Exit. (after 6) G
[558] 10 SN.] Sweetheart! Re-enter Pitfall. || sir? [Pug runs to her. G
[559] 16 SN.] Enter Trains in his false beard and cloke. (after ’vp—’15) [Exit Trains.] (after ‘tis’ 16) G
[560] 18 SN. Enter Meercraft. G
[562] 23 SN.] Re-enter Trains dressed as at first. G
[563] 26 Gentlewoman 1716 gentlewoman W, G
[574] 61 I’ll ...] Meer. I’ll ... W, G
[142]
Act. IIIJ. Scene. I.
Taile-bvsh. Mere-craft. Manly.
A Pox vpo’ referring to Commiſsioners, I’had rather heare that it were paſt the ſeales: Your Courtiers moue ſo Snaile-like i’ your Buſineſſe. Wuld I had begun wi’ you.
Mer. We muſt moue, Madame, in order, by degrees: not iump. 5
Tay. Why, there was Sr. Iohn Monie-man could iump A Buſineſſe quickely.
Mer. True, hee had great friends, But, becauſe ſome, ſweete Madame, can leape ditches, Wee muſt not all ſhunne to goe ouer bridges. The harder parts, I make account are done: 10 He flatters her. Now, ’tis referr’d. You are infinitly bound Vnto’the Ladies, they ha’ so cri’d it vp!
Tay. Doe they like it then?
Mer. They ha’ ſent the Spaniſh-Lady, To gratulate with you—
Tay. I must ſend ’hem thankes And ſome remembrances.
Mer. That you muſt, and viſit ’hem. 15 Where’s Ambler?
Tay. Loſt, to day, we cannot heare of him.
Mer. Not Madam?
Tay. No in good faith. They ſay he lay not At home, to night. And here has fall’n a Buſineſſe Betweene your Couſin, and Maſter Manly, has Vnquieted vs all.
Mer. So I heare, Madame. 20 Pray you how was it?
Tay. Troth, it but appeares Ill o’ your Kinſmans part. You may haue heard, That Manly is a ſutor to me, I doubt not:
Mer. I gueſs’d it, Madame.
Tay. And it ſeemes, he truſted Your Couſin to let fall some faire reports 25 Of him vnto mee.
Mer. Which he did!
Tay. So farre From it, as hee came in, and tooke him rayling Againſt him.
Mer. How! And what said Manly to him?
Tay. Inough, I doe aſſure you: and with that ſcorne Of him, and the iniury, as I doe wonder 30 How Euerill bore it! But that guilt vndoe’s Many mens valors.
Mer. Here comes Manly.
Man. Madame, [143] I’ll take my leaue—
Manly offers to be gone.
Tay. You ſha’ not goe, i’ faith. I’ll ha’ you ſtay, and ſee this Spaniſh miracle, Of our Engliſh Ladie.
Man. Let me pray your Ladiſhip, 35 Lay your commands on me, some other time.
Tay. Now, I proteſt: and I will haue all piec’d, And friends againe.
Man. It will be but ill ſolder’d!
Tay. You are too much affected with it.
Man. I cannot Madame, but thinke on’t for th’ iniuſtice.
Tay. Sir, 40 His kinſman here is ſorry.
Mer. Not I, Madam, I am no kin to him, wee but call Couſins, Mere-craft denies him. And if wee were, Sir, I haue no relation Vnto his crimes.
Man. You are not vrged with ’hem. I can accuſe, Sir, none but mine owne iudgement, 45 For though it were his crime, ſo to betray mee: I am ſure, ’twas more mine owne, at all to truſt him. But he, therein, did vſe but his old manners, And fauour ſtrongly what hee was before.
Tay. Come, he will change!
Man. Faith, I muſt neuer think it. 50 Nor were it reaſon in mee to expect That for my ſake, hee ſhould put off a nature Hee ſuck’d in with his milke. It may be Madam, Deceiuing truſt, is all he has to truſt to: If ſo, I ſhall be loath, that any hope 55 Of mine, ſhould bate him of his meanes.
Tay. Yo’ are ſharp, Sir. This act may make him honeſt!
Man. If he were To be made honeſt, by an act of Parliament, I ſhould not alter, i’ my faith of him.
Tay. Eyther-ſide! Welcome, deare Either-ſide! how haſt thou done, good wench? She spies the Lady Eyther-ſide. Thou haſt beene a ſtranger! I ha’ not ſeene thee, this weeke. 61
[576] SD. IIIJ] VI. 1641 Taile. ...] A room in Lady Tailbush’s House. Enter Lady Tailbush and Meercraft. G
[578] 32 valours. Enter Manly. G
[584] 59 him. Enter Lady Eitherside.
Act. IIIJ. Scene. II.
Eitherside. {To them
Ever your ſeruant, Madame.
Tay. Where hast ’hou beene? [144] I did ſo long to ſee thee.
Eit. Viſiting, and ſo tyr’d! I proteſt, Madame, ’tis a monſtrous trouble!
Tay. And ſo it is. I ſweare I muſt to morrow, Beginne my viſits (would they were ouer) at Court. 5 It tortures me, to thinke on ’hem.
Eit. I doe heare You ha’ cauſe, Madam, your ſute goes on.
Tay. Who told thee?
Eyt. One, that can tell: Mr. Eyther-ſide.
Tay. O, thy huſband! Yes, faith, there’s life in’t, now: It is referr’d. If wee once ſee it vnder the ſeales, wench, then, 10 Haue with ’hem for the great Carroch, ſixe horſes, And the two Coach-men, with my Ambler, bare, And my three women: wee will liue, i’ faith, The examples o’ the towne, and gouerne it. I’le lead the faſhion ſtill.
Eit. You doe that, now, 15 Sweet Madame.
Tay. O, but then, I’ll euery day Bring vp ſome new deuice. Thou and I, Either-ſide, Will firſt be in it. I will giue it thee; And they ſhall follow vs. Thou ſhalt, I ſweare, Weare euery moneth a new gowne, out of it. 20
Eith. Thanke you good Madame.
Tay. Pray thee call mee Taile-buſh As I thee, Either-ſide: I not loue this, Madame.
Ety. Then I proteſt to you, Taile-buſh, I am glad Your Buſineſſe ſo ſucceeds.
Tay. Thanke thee, good Eyther-ſide.
Ety. But Maſter Either-ſide tells me, that he likes 25 Your other Buſineſſe better.
Tay. Which?
Eit. O’ the Tooth-picks.
Tay. I neuer heard on’t.
Eit. Aske Mr. Mere-craft.
Mer. Madame? H’is one, in a word, I’ll truſt his malice, With any mans credit, I would haue abus’d!
Mere-craft hath whiſper’d with the while.
Man. Sir, if you thinke you doe pleaſe mee, in this, 30 You are deceiu’d!
Mer. No, but becauſe my Lady, Nam’d him my kinſman; I would ſatisfie you, What I thinke of him: and pray you, vpon it To iudge mee!
Man. So I doe: that ill mens friendſhip, Is as vnfaithfull, as themſelues.
Tay. Doe you heare? 35 Ha’ you a Buſineſſe about Tooth-picks?
Mer. Yes, Madame. Did I ne’r tell’t you? I meant to haue offer’d it Your Lady-ſhip, on the perfecting the pattent. [145]
Tay. How is’t!
Mer. For ſeruing the whole ſtate with Tooth-picks; The Proiect for Tooth-picks. (Somewhat an intricate Buſineſſe to diſcourſe) but—40 I ſhew, how much the Subiect is abus’d, Firſt, in that one commodity? then what diſeaſes, And putrefactions in the gummes are bred, By thoſe are made of adultrate, and falſe wood? My plot, for reformation of theſe, followes. 45 To haue all Tooth-picks, brought vnto an office, There ſeal’d; and ſuch as counterfait ’hem, mulcted. And laſt, for venting ’hem to haue a booke Printed, to teach their vſe, which euery childe Shall haue throughout the kingdome, that can read, 50 And learne to picke his teeth by. Which beginning Earely to practice, with ſome other rules, Of neuer ſleeping with the mouth open, chawing Some graines of maſticke, will preſerue the breath Pure, and ſo free from taynt—ha’ what is’t? ſaiſt thou?
Traines his man whiſpers him.
Tay. Good faith, it ſounds a very pretty Bus’neſſe! 56
Eit. So Mr. Either-ſide ſaies, Madame.
Mer. The Lady is come.
Tay. Is ſhe? Good, waite vpon her in. My Ambler Was neuer ſo ill abſent. Either-ſide, How doe I looke to day? Am I not dreſt, 60 Spruntly?
She lookes in her glaſſe.
Eit. Yes, verily, Madame.
Tay. Pox o’ Madame, Will you not leaue that?
Eit. Yes, good Taile-buſh.
Tay. So? Sounds not that better? What vile Fucus is this, Thou haſt got on?
Eit. ’Tis Pearle.
Tay. Pearle? Oyſter-ſhells: As I breath, Either-side, I know’t. Here comes 65 (They say) a wonder, ſirrah, has beene in Spaine! Will teach vs all; ſhee’s ſent to mee, from Court. To gratulate with mee! Pr’y thee, let’s obſerue her, What faults ſhe has, that wee may laugh at ’hem, When ſhe is gone.
Eit. That we will heartily, Tail-buſh. 70
Wittipol enters.
Tay. O, mee! the very Infanta of the Giants!
[588] 22 not loue] love not 1716, f.
[591] 28 Madam! [Aside to Manly.] G || He is G
[592] 29 SN. with him the 1692, 1716, W SN. om. G
[599] 55 SN.] taint—Enter Trains, and whispers him. G
[600] 58 in. [Exit Meercraft.] G
[601] 61 SN.] She om. G || o’ ret. G
[602] 68 Prythee 1692 Prithee 1716 prithee W, G
[603] 70 SN.] Re-enter Meercraft, introducing Wittipol dressed as a Spanish Lady. G
Act. IIIJ. Scene. IJI.
Mere-craft. Wittipol. } to them.
Wittipol is dreſt like a Spaniſh Lady.
Mer. Here is a noble Lady, Madame, come, [146] From your great friends, at Court, to ſee your Ladi-ſhip: And haue the honour of your acquaintance.
Tay. Sir. She do’s vs honour.
Wit. Pray you, ſay to her Ladiſhip, It is the manner of Spaine, to imbrace onely, 5 Neuer to kiſſe. She will excuſe the cuſtome!
Excuſes him ſelfe for not kiſſing.
Tay. Your vſe of it is law. Pleaſe you, ſweete, Madame, To take a ſeate.
Wit. Yes, Madame. I’haue had The fauour, through a world of faire report To know your vertues, Madame; and in that 10 Name, haue deſir’d the happineſſe of preſenting My ſeruice to your Ladiſhip!
Tay. Your loue, Madame, I muſt not owne it elſe.
Wit. Both are due, Madame, To your great vndertakings.
Tay. Great? In troth, Madame, They are my friends, that thinke ’hem any thing: 15 If I can doe my ſexe (by ’hem) any ſeruice, I’haue my ends, Madame.
Wit. And they are noble ones, That make a multitude beholden, Madame: The common-wealth of Ladies, muſt acknowledge from you.
Eit. Except ſome enuious, Madame.
Wit. Yo’ are right in that, Madame, 20 Of which race, I encountred ſome but lately. Who (’t ſeemes) haue ſtudyed reaſons to diſcredit Your buſineſſe.
Tay. How, ſweet Madame.
Wit. Nay, the parties Wi’ not be worth your pauſe—Moſt ruinous things, Madame, That haue put off all hope of being recouer’d 25 To a degree of handſomeneſſe.
Tay. But their reaſons, Madame? I would faine heare.
Wit. Some Madame, I remember. They ſay, that painting quite deſtroyes the face—
Eit. O, that’s an old one, Madame.
Wit. There are new ones, too. Corrupts the breath; hath left ſo little ſweetneſſe 30 In kiſſing, as ’tis now vſ’d, but for faſhion: And ſhortly will be taken for a puniſhment. Decayes the fore-teeth, that ſhould guard the tongue; And ſuffers that runne riot euer-laſting! And (which is worſe) ſome Ladies when they meete 35 Cannot be merry, and laugh, but they doe ſpit In one anothers faces!
Man. I ſhould know This voyce, and face too: Manly begins to know him.
VVit. Then they ſay, ’tis dangerous [147] To all the falne, yet well diſpos’d Mad-dames, That are induſtrious, and deſire to earne 40 Their liuing with their ſweate! For any diſtemper Of heat, and motion, may diſplace the colours; And if the paint once runne about their faces, Twenty to one, they will appeare ſo ill-fauour’d, Their ſeruants run away, too, and leaue the pleaſure 45 Imperfect, and the reckoning all vnpay’d.
Eit. Pox, theſe are Poets reaſons.
Tay. Some old Lady That keepes a Poet, has deuis’d theſe ſcandales.
Eit. Faith we muſt haue the Poets baniſh’d, Madame, As Maſter Either-ſide ſaies.
Mer. Maſter Fitz-dottrel? 50 And his wife: where? Madame, the Duke of Drown’d-land, That will be ſhortly.
VVit. Is this my Lord?
Mer. The ſame.
[605] 1 SN. is om. 1692, 1716, W || For G see 70 above.
[612] 39 Mad-dams 1692, 1716 mad-dams W mad-ams G
[614] 51 wife! Wit. Where? Enter Mr. and Mrs.Fitzdottrel, followed by Pug. Meer. [To Wit.] Madam, G
Act. IIIJ. Scene. IV.
Fitz-dottrel. Miſtreſſe Fitz-dottrell. Pvg. } to them.
Your ſeruant, Madame!
VVit. How now? Friend? offended, That I haue found your haunt here?
Wittipol whiſpers with Manly.
Man. No, but wondring At your ſtrange faſhion’d venture, hither.
VVit. It is To ſhew you what they are, you ſo purſue.
Man. I thinke ’twill proue a med’cine againſt marriage; To know their manners.
VVit. Stay, and profit then. 6
Mer. The Lady, Madame, whose Prince has brought her, here, To be inſtructed.
Hee preſents Miſtreſſe Fitz-dottrel.
VVit. Pleaſe you ſit with vs, Lady.
Mer. That’s Lady-Preſident.
Fit. A goodly woman! I cannot ſee the ring, though.
Mer. Sir, ſhe has it. 10
Tay. But, Madame, theſe are very feeble reaſons!
Wit. So I vrg’d Madame, that the new complexion, Now to come forth, in name o’ your Ladiſhip’s fucus, Had no ingredient—
Tay. But I durſt eate, I aſſure you.
Wit. So do they, in Spaine.
Tay. Sweet Madam be ſo liberall, 15 To giue vs ſome o’ your Spaniſh Fucuſes!
VVit. They are infinit, Madame.
Tay. So I heare, they haue VVater of Gourdes, of Radiſh, the white Beanes, Flowers of Glaſſe, of Thiſtles, Roſe-marine. Raw Honey, Muſtard-ſeed, and Bread dough-bak’d, 20 The crums o’ bread, Goats-milke, and whites of Egges, Campheere, and Lilly-roots, the fat of Swannes, Marrow of Veale, white Pidgeons, and pine-kernells, [148] The ſeedes of Nettles, perse’line, and hares gall. Limons, thin-skind—
Eit. How, her Ladiſhip has ſtudied 25 Al excellent things!
VVit. But ordinary, Madame. No, the true rarities, are th’ Aluagada, And Argentata of Queene Isabella!
Tay. I, what are their ingredients, gentle Madame?
Wit. Your Allum Scagliola, or Pol-dipedra; 30 And Zuccarino; Turpentine of Abezzo, Wash’d in nine waters: Soda di leuante, Or your Ferne aſhes; Beniamin di gotta; Graſſo di ſerpe; Porcelletto marino; Oyles of Lentiſco; Zucche Mugia; make 35 The admirable Verniſh for the face, Giues the right luſter; but two drops rub’d on VVith a piece of ſcarlet, makes a Lady of ſixty Looke at ſixteen. But, aboue all, the water Of the white Hen, of the Lady Eſtifanias! 40
Tay. O, I, that ſame, good Madame, I haue heard of: How is it done?
VVit. Madame, you take your Hen, Plume it, and skin it, cleanſe it o’ the inwards: Then chop it, bones and all: adde to foure ounces Of Carrauicins, Pipitas, Sope of Cyprus, 45 Make the decoction, ſtreine it. Then diſtill it, And keep it in your galley-pot well glidder’d: Three drops preſerues from wrinkles, warts, ſpots, moles, Blemiſh, or Sun-burnings, and keepes the skin In decimo ſexto, euer bright, and ſmooth, 50 As any looking-glaſſe; and indeed, is call’d The Virgins milke for the face, Oglio reale; A Ceruſe, neyther cold or heat, will hurt; And mixt with oyle of myrrhe, and the red Gilli-flower Call’d Cataputia; and flowers of Rouiſtico; 55 Makes the beſt muta, or dye of the whole world.
Tay. Deare Madame, will you let vs be familiar?
Wit. Your Ladiſhips ſeruant.
Mer. How do you like her.
Fit. Admirable! But, yet, I cannot ſee the ring.
Hee is iealous about his ring, and Mere-craft deliuers it.
Pvg. Sir.
Mer. I muſt Deliuer it, or marre all. This foole’s ſo iealous. 60 Madame—Sir, weare this ring, and pray you take knowledge, ’Twas ſent you by his wife. And giue her thanks, Doe not you dwindle, Sir, beare vp.
Pvg. I thanke you, Sir.
Tay. But for the manner of Spaine! Sweet, Madame, let vs Be bold, now we are in: Are all the Ladies, 65 There, i’ the faſhion?
VVit. None but Grandee’s, Madame, O’ the claſp’d traine, which may be worne at length, too, Or thus, vpon my arme.
Tay. And doe they weare Cioppino’s all?
VVit. If they be dreſt in punto, Madame.
Eit. Guilt as thoſe are? madame?
Wit. Of Goldſmiths work, madame; [149] 70 And ſet with diamants: and their Spaniſh pumps Of perfum’d leather.
Tai. I ſhould thinke it hard To go in ’hem, madame.
Wit. At the firſt, it is, madame.
Tai. Do you neuer fall in ’hem?
Wit. Neuer.
Ei. I ſweare, I ſhould Six times an houre.
Wit. But you haue men at hand, ſstill, To helpe you, if you fall?
Eit. Onely one, madame, 76 The Guardo-duennas, ſuch a little old man, As this.
Eit. Alas! hee can doe nothing! this!
Wit. I’ll tell you, madame, I ſaw i’ the Court of Spaine once, A Lady fall i’ the Kings ſight, along, 80 And there ſhee lay, flat ſpred, as an Vmbrella, Her hoope here crack’d; no man durſt reach a hand To helpe her, till the Guarda-duenn’as came, VVho is the perſon onel’ allow’d to touch A Lady there: and he but by this finger. 85
Eit. Ha’ they no ſeruants, madame, there? nor friends?
Wit. An Eſcudero, or ſo madame, that wayts Vpon ’hem in another Coach, at diſtance, And when they walke, or daunce, holds by a hand-kercher, Neuer preſumes to touch ’hem.
Eit. This’s ſciruy! 90 And a forc’d grauity! I doe not like it. I like our owne much better.
Tay. ’Tis more French, And Courtly ours.
Eit. And taſts more liberty. VVe may haue our doozen of viſiters, at once, Make loue t’vs.
Tay. And before our husbands?
Eit. Huſband? 95 As I am honeſt, Tayle-buſh I doe thinke If no body ſhould loue mee, but my poore husband, I ſhould e’n hang my ſelfe.
Tay. Fortune forbid, wench: So faire a necke ſhould haue ſo foule a neck-lace.
Eit. ’Tis true, as I am handſome!
Wit. I receiu’d, Lady, 100 A token from you, which I would not bee Rude to refuſe, being your firſt remembrance.
(Fit. O, I am ſatisfied now! Mer. Do you ſee it, Sir.)
Wit. But ſince you come, to know me, neerer, Lady, I’ll begge the honour, you will weare for mee, 105 It muſt be ſo.
Wittipol giues it Miſtreſſe Fitz-dottrel.
Mrs. Fit. Sure I haue heard this tongue.
Mer. What do you meane, Sr?
Mere-craft murmures,
Wit. Would you ha’ me mercenary? We’ll recompence it anon, in ſomewhat elſe.
He is ſatisfied, now he ſees it.
Fit. I doe not loue to be gull’d, though in a toy. VVife, doe you heare? yo’ are come into the Schole, wife, VVhere you may learne, I doe perceiue it, any thing! 111 How to be fine, or faire, or great, or proud, Or what you will, indeed, wife; heere ’tis taught. And I am glad on’t, that you may not ſay, Another day, when honours come vpon you, 115 You wanted meanes. I ha’ done my parts: beene, Today at fifty pound charge, firſt, for a ring, [150] He vpbraids her, with his Bill of coſts. To get you entred. Then left my new Play, To wait vpon you, here, to ſee’t confirm’d. That I may ſay, both to mine owne eyes, and eares, 120 Senſes, you are my witneſſe, ſha’ hath inioy’d All helps that could be had, for loue, or money—
Mrs. Fit. To make a foole of her.
Fit. Wife, that’s your malice, The wickedneſſe o’ you nature to interpret Your husbands kindeſſe thus. But I’ll not leaue; 125 Still to doe good, for your deprau’d affections: Intend it. Bend this ſtubborne will; be great.
Tay. Good Madame, whom do they vſe in meſſages?
Wit. They comonly vſe their ſlaues, Madame.
Tai. And do’s your Ladiſhip. Thinke that ſo good, Madame?
Wit. no, indeed, Madame; I, 130 Therein preferre the faſhion of England farre, Of your young delicate Page, or diſcreet Vſher.
Fit. And I goe with your Ladiſhip, in opinion, Directly for your Gentleman-vſher. There’s not a finer Officer goes on ground. 135
Wit. If hee be made and broken to his place, once.
Fit. Nay, ſo I preſuppoſe him.
Wit. And they are fitter Managers too, Sir, but I would haue ’hem call’d Our Eſcudero’s.
Fit. Good.
Wit. Say, I ſhould ſend To your Ladiſhip, who (I preſume) has gather’d 140 All the deare ſecrets, to know how to make Paſtillos of the Dutcheſſe of Braganza, Coquettas, Almoiauana’s, Mantecada’s, Alcoreas, Muſtaccioli; or ſay it were The Peladore of Isabella, or balls 145 Againſt the itch, or aqua nanfa, or oyle Of Ieſſamine for gloues, of the Marqueſſe Muja: Or for the head, and hayre: why, theſe are offices.
Fit. Fit for a gentleman, not a ſlaue. They onely Might aske for your pineti, Spaniſh-cole, 150 To burne, and ſweeten a roome; but the Arcana Of Ladies Cabinets—
Fit. Should be elſe-where truſted. Yo’ are much about the truth. Sweet honoured Ladies, He enters himſelfe with the Ladies. Let mee fall in wi’ you. I’ha’ my female wit, As well as my male. And I doe know what ſutes 155 A Lady of ſpirit, or a woman of faſhion!
Wit. And you would haue your wife ſuch.
Fit. Yes, Madame, aërie, Light; not to plaine diſhoneſty, I meane: But, ſomewhat o’ this ſide.
Wit. I take you, Sir. H’has reaſon Ladies. I’ll not giue this ruſh 160 For any Lady, that cannot be honeſt Within a thred.
Tay. Yes, Madame, and yet venter As far for th’other, in her Fame—
Wit. As can be; Coach it to Pimlico; daunce the Saraband; [151] Heare, and talke bawdy; laugh as loud, as a larum; 165 Squeake, ſpring, do any thing.
Eit. In young company, Madame.
Tay. Or afore gallants. If they be braue, or Lords, A woman is ingag’d.
Fit. I ſay ſo, Ladies, It is ciuility to deny vs nothing.
Pvg. You talke of a Vniuerſity! why, Hell is 170 A Grammar-ſchoole to this!
The Diuell admires him.
Eit. But then, Shee muſt not loſe a looke on ſtuffes, or cloth, Madame.
Tay. Nor no courſe fellow.
Wit. She muſt be guided, Madame By the clothes he weares, and company he is in; Whom to ſalute, how farre—
Fit. I ha’ told her this. 175 And how that bawdry too, vpo’ the point, Is (in it ſelfe) as ciuill a diſcourſe—
Wit. As any other affayre of fleſh, what euer.
Fit. But ſhee will ne’r be capable, ſhee is not So much as comming, Madame; I know not how 180 She loſes all her opportunities With hoping to be forc’d. I’haue entertain’d He ſhews his Pug. A gentleman, a younger brother, here, Whom I would faine breed vp, her Eſcudero, Againſt ſome expectation’s that I haue, 185 And ſhe’ll not countenance him.
Wit. What’s his name?
Fit. Diuel, o’ Darbi-ſhire.
Eit. Bleſſe us from him!
Tay. Diuell? Call him De-uile, ſweet Madame.
Mrs. Fi. What you pleaſe, Ladies.
Tay. De-uile’s a prettier name!
Eit. And ſounds, me thinks, As it came in with the Conquerour—
Man. Ouer ſmocks! 190 What things they are? That nature ſhould be at leaſure Euer to make ’hem! my woing is at an end.
Manly goes out with indignation.
Wit. What can he do?
Eit. Let’s heare him.
Tay. Can he manage?
Fit. Pleaſe you to try him, Ladies. Stand forth, Diuell.
Pvg. Was all this but the preface to my torment? 195
Fit. Come, let their Ladiſhips ſee your honours.
Eit. O, Hee makes a wicked leg.
Tay. As euer I ſaw!
Wit. Fit for a Diuell.
Tay. Good Madame, call him De-uile.
Wit. De-uile, what property is there moſt required I’ your conceit, now, in the Eſcudero? 200
They begin their Catechiſme.
Fit. Why doe you not speake?
Pvg. A ſetled diſcreet paſe, Madame.
Wit. I thinke, a barren head, Sir, Mountaine-like, To be expos’d to the cruelty of weathers—
Fit. I, for his Valley is beneath the waſte, Madame, And to be fruitfull there, it is ſufficient. 205 Dulneſſe vpon you! Could not you hit this?
Pvg. Good Sir—
He ſtrikes him.
Wit. He then had had no barren head. You daw him too much, in troth, Sir.
Fit. I muſt walke With the French ſticke, like an old vierger for you.
Pvg. O, Chiefe, call mee to Hell againe, and free mee. 210
The Diuell prayes.
Fit. Do you murmur now?
Pvg. Not I, Sr.
Wit. What do you take [152] Mr. Deuile, the height of your employment, In the true perfect Eſcudero?
Fit. When? What doe you anſwer?
Pvg. To be able, Madame, Firſt to enquire, then report the working, 215 Of any Ladies phyſicke, in ſweete phraſe.
Wit. Yes, that’s an act of elegance, and importance. But what aboue?
Fit. O, that I had a goad for him.
Pvg. To find out a good Corne-cutter.
Tay. Out on him!
Eit. Moſt barbarous!
Fit. Why did you doe this, now? 220 Of purpoſe to diſcredit me? you damn’d Diuell.
Pvg. Sure, if I be not yet, I ſhall be. All My daies in Hell, were holy-daies to this!
Tay. ’Tis labour loſt, Madame?
Eit. H’is a dull fellow Of no capacity!
Tai. Of no diſcourſe! 225 O, if my Ambler had beene here!
Eit. I, Madame; You talke of a man, where is there ſuch another?
Wit. Mr. Deuile, put caſe, one of my Ladies, heere, Had a fine brach: and would imploy you forth To treate ’bout a conuenient match for her. 230 What would you obſerue?
Pvg. The color, and the ſize, Madame.
Wit. And nothing elſe?
Fit. The Moon, you calfe, the Moone!
Wit. I, and the Signe.
Tai. Yes, and receits for proneneſſe.
Wit. Then when the Puppies came, what would you doe?
Pvg. Get their natiuities caſt!
Wit. This’s wel. What more? 235
Pvg. Conſult the Almanack-man which would be leaſt? Which cleanelieſt?
Wit. And which ſilenteſt? This’s wel, madame!
Wit. And while ſhe were with puppy?
Pvg. Walke her out, And ayre her euery morning!
Wit. Very good! And be induſtrious to kill her fleas? 240
Pvg. Yes!
Wit. He will make a pretty proficient.
Pvg. Who, Comming from Hell, could looke for ſuch Catechiſing? The Diuell is an Aſſe. I doe acknowledge it.
Fit. The top of woman! All her ſexe in abſtract! Fitz-dottrel admires Wittipol. I loue her, to each ſyllable, falls from her. 245
Tai. Good madame giue me leaue to goe aſide with him! And try him a little!
Wit. Do, and I’ll with-draw, Madame, VVith this faire Lady: read to her, the while.
Tai. Come, Sr.
Pvg. Deare Chiefe, relieue me, or I periſh.
The Diuel praies again.
Wit. Lady, we’ll follow. You are not iealous Sir? 250
Fit. O, madame! you ſhall ſee. Stay wife, behold, I giue her vp heere, abſolutely, to you, She is your owne. Do with her what you will! He giues his wife to him, taking him to be a Lady. Melt, caſt, and forme her as you ſhall thinke good! Set any ſtamp on! I’ll receiue her from you 255 As a new thing, by your owne ſtandard!
VVit. Well, Sir!
[616] 1 Wit. [Takes Manly aside.]
[623] 32, 3 leuante ... di om. 1641
[632] 61 Madam—[whispers Wit.] G
[635] 71 Diamonds 1692, 1716 diamonds W, G
[636] 75 Wit. ...] speech given to Tai. 1716, f.
[637] 76 Eit. ...] speech given to Wit. 1716, f.
[639] 78 this. [Points to Trains. G
[641] 84 onl’ 1692, 1716 only W, G
[642] 89 dance 1692, f. || Handkerchief 1716 handkerchief W, G
[645] 103 now! [Aside to Meer. G
[646] 106 SN.] [Gives the ring to Mrs. Fitzdottrel. G Surely 1641 tongue. [Aside. G
[647] 107 SN.] [Aside to Wit. G
[648] 108 SN. om. [Exeunt Meer, and Trains G
[649] 110 heare? [Takes Mrs. Fitz. aside.] G You’re 1716, W into] in 1641 schoole 1641 School 1692, 1716 school W, G
[651] 118 left] let 1641 entered W enter’d G
[653] 121 sha’] she’ 1692 she 1716, f. enjoy’d 1692, f.
[655] 125 kindnesse 1641 Kindness 1692, 1716 kindness W, G
[656] 147 Marquess 1692, 1716 marquess W
[657] 149 Fit.] Eith. 1716, W Wit. They G
[658] 153 SN. om. G || You’re 1716, W
[666] 192 SN.] [Aside, and exit with indignation. G || Wooing 1692, 1716 wooing W, G
[671] 207 SN.] [Fit strikes Pug. W || He om. G
[677] 224 He’s 1716, W He is G
[679] 235, 237 This’s] This is 1716, f.
[680] 237 cleanliest 1692, f. silent’st 1692. f.
[684] 244 SN.] [Aside, and looking at Wittipol. G
[687] 256 [Exit Wit. Well, sir! [Exeunt Wittipol with Mrs. Fitz. and Tailbush and Eitherside with Pug. G
Act. IIIJ. Scene. V.
Mere-craft. Fitz-dottrel. Pit-Fal.
Ever-ill. Plvtarchus.
But what ha’ you done i’ your Dependance, ſince? [153]
Fit. O, it goes on, I met your Couſin, the Maſter—
Mer. You did not acquaint him, Sr?
Fit. Faith, but I did, Sr. And vpon better thought, not without reaſon! He being chiefe Officer, might ha’ tane it ill, elſe, 5 As a Contempt againſt his Place, and that In time Sir, ha’ drawne on another Dependance. No, I did finde him in good termes, and ready To doe me any ſeruice.
Mer. So he said, to you? But Sr, you do not know him.
Fit. VVhy, I presum’d 10 Becauſe this bus’neſſe of my wiues, requir’d mee, I could not ha’ done better: And hee told Me, that he would goe preſently to your Councell, A Knight, here, i’ the Lane—
Mer. Yes, Iuſtice Either-ſide.
Fit. And get the Feoffment drawne, with a letter of Atturney, 15 For liuerie and ſeiſen!
Mer. That I knowe’s the courſe. But Sir, you meane not to make him Feoffee?
Fit. Nay, that I’ll pauſe on!
Mer. How now little Pit-fall.
Pit. Your Couſin Maſter Euer-ill, would come in— But he would know if Maſter Manly were heere. 20
Mer. No, tell him, if he were, I ha’ made his peace! Mere-craft whiſpers againſt him. Hee’s one, Sir, has no State, and a man knowes not, How such a trust may tempt him.
Fit. I conceiue you.
Eve. Sr. this ſame deed is done here.
Mer. Pretty Plutarchus? Art thou come with it? and has Sir Paul view’d it? 25
Plv. His hand is to the draught.
Mer. VVill you step in, Sr. And read it?
Fit. Yes.
Eve. I pray you a word wi’ you. Eueril whiſpers against Mere-craft. Sir Paul Eitherside will’d mee gi’ you caution, Whom you did make Feoffee: for ’tis the truſt O’ your whole State: and though my Cousin heere 30 Be a worthy Gentleman, yet his valour has At the tall board bin queſtion’d: and we hold Any man ſo impeach’d, of doubtfull honesty! I will not iuſtiſie this; but giue it you To make your profit of it: if you vtter it, 35 I can forſweare it!
Fit. I beleeue you, and thanke you, Sir.
[688] SD. V] III. 1641 Act. ...] Scene II. Another Room in the same. Enter Meercraft and Fitzdottrel. G
[690] 9 service 1641, W, G Service 1692, 1716
[693] 21 [Exit Pitfall. SN. om. G
[694] 23 Enter Everill and Plutarchus. G
[695] 25 Poul 1692, 1716 Poul W
[696] 27 SN.] [Aside to Fitz. G
[697] 28 give 1641, G Paul] as in 4.5.25
Act. IIIJ. Scene. VI.
VVittipol. Mistresse Fitz-dottrel.
Manly. Mere-craft.
Be not afraid, ſweet Lady: yo’ are truſted [154] To loue, not violence here; I am no rauiſher, But one, whom you, by your faire truſt againe, May of a ſeruant make a moſt true friend. Mrs. Fi. And ſuch a one I need, but not this way: 5 Sir, I confeſſe me to you, the meere manner Of your attempting mee, this morning tooke mee, And I did hold m’inuention, and my manners, Were both engag’d, to giue it a requitall; But not vnto your ends: my hope was then, 10 (Though interrupted, ere it could be vtter’d) That whom I found the Maſter of ſuch language, That braine and ſpirit, for ſuch an enterpriſe, Could not, but if thoſe ſuccours were demanded To a right vſe, employ them vertuouſly! 15 And make that profit of his noble parts, Which they would yeeld. Sr, you haue now the ground, To exerciſe them in: I am a woman: That cannot ſpeake more wretchedneſſe of my ſelfe, Then you can read; match’d to a maſſe of folly; 20 That euery day makes haſte to his owne ruine; The wealthy portion, that I brought him, ſpent; And (through my friends neglect) no ioynture made me. My fortunes ſtanding in this precipice, ’Tis Counſell that I want, and honeſt aides: 25 And in this name, I need you, for a friend! Neuer in any other; for his ill, Muſt not make me, Sr, worſe.
Manly, conceal’d this while, ſhews himſelf.
Man. O friend! forſake not The braue occaſion, vertue offers you, To keepe you innocent: I haue fear’d for both; 30 And watch’d you, to preuent the ill I fear’d. But, ſince the weaker ſide hath ſo aſſur’d mee, Let not the ſtronger fall by his owne vice, Or be the leſſe a friend, cauſe vertue needs him.
Wit. Vertue ſhall neuer aske my ſuccours twice; 35 Moſt friend, moſt man: your Counſells are commands: Lady, I can loue goodnes in you, more [155] Then I did Beauty; and doe here intitle Your vertue, to the power, vpon a life You ſhall engage in any fruitfull ſeruice, 40 Euen to forfeit.
Mer. Madame: Do you heare, Sir, Mere-craft takes Wittipol aſide, & moues a proiect for himſelfe. We haue another leg-ſtrain’d, for this Dottrel. He’ha’s a quarrell to carry, and ha’s cauſ’d A deed of Feoffment, of his whole eſtate To be drawne yonder; h’ha’ſt within: And you, 45 Onely, he meanes to make Feoffee. H’is falne So deſperatly enamour’d on you, and talkes Moſt like a mad-man: you did neuer heare A Phrentick, ſo in loue with his owne fauour! Now, you doe know, ’tis of no validity 50 In your name, as you ſtand; Therefore aduiſe him To put in me. (h’is come here:) You ſhall ſhare Sir.
[699] SD. Scene III Another Room in the same. Enter Wittipol, and Mrs. Fitzdottrel. G
[701] 4 Manly enters behind. G
[703] 28 SN.] [comes forward.] G
[705] 41 SN.] Enter Meercraft. (after ‘forfeit.’) Aside to Wittipol. (after ‘Sir,’) G
[706] 42 leg-strain’d] hyphen om. 1692, f.
[709] 46 H’is He’s 1716, W He is G
[711] 52 me!—Enter Fitzdottrel, Everill, and Plutarchus. G || h’is] He’s 1716, f.
Act. IV. Scene. VIJ.
Wittipol. Miſtreſſe Fitz-dottrel. Manly.
Mere-craft. Fitz-dottrell. Everill.
Plvtarchvs.
Fit. Madame, I haue a ſuit to you; and afore-hand, I doe beſpeake you; you muſt not deny me, I will be graunted.
Wit. Sir, I muſt know it, though.
Fit. No Lady; you muſt not know it: yet, you muſt too. For the truſt of it, and the fame indeed, 5 Which elſe were loſt me. I would vfe your name, But in a Feoffment: make my whole eſtate Ouer vnto you: a trifle, a thing of nothing, Some eighteene hundred.
Wit. Alas! I vnderſtand not Thoſe things Sir. I am a woman, and moſt loath, 10 To embarque my ſelfe—
Fit. You will not ſlight me, Madame?
Wit. Nor you’ll not quarrell me?
Fit. No, ſweet Madame, I haue Already a dependance; for which cauſe I doe this: let me put you in, deare Madame, I may be fairely kill’d.
Wit. You haue your friends, Sir, 15 About you here, for choice.
Eve. She tells you right, Sir.
Hee hopes to be the man.
Fit. Death, if ſhe doe, what do I care for that? Say, I would haue her tell me wrong.
Wit. Why, Sir, [156] If for the truſt, you’ll let me haue the honor To name you one.
Fit. Nay, you do me the honor, Madame: 20 Who is’t?
Wit. This Gentleman:
Shee deſignes Manly.
Fit. O, no, sweet Madame, H’is friend to him, with whom I ha’ the dependance.
Wit. Who might he bee?
Fit. One Wittipol: do you know him?
Wit. Alas Sir, he, a toy: This Gentleman A friend to him? no more then I am Sir! 25
Fit. But will your Ladyſhip vndertake that, Madame?
Wit. Yes, and what elſe, for him, you will engage me.
Fit. What is his name?
VVit. His name is Euſtace Manly.
Fit. VVhence do’s he write himſelfe?
VVit. of Middle-ſex, Eſquire.
Fit. Say nothing, Madame. Clerke, come hether 30 VVrite Euſtace Manly, Squire o’ Middle-ſex.
Mer. What ha’ you done, Sir?
VVit. Nam’d a gentleman, That I’ll be anſwerable for, to you, Sir. Had I nam’d you, it might ha’ beene ſuſpected: This way, ’tis ſafe.
Fit. Come Gentlemen, your hands, 35 For witnes.
Man. VVhat is this?
Eve. You ha’ made Election Eueril applaudes it. Of a moſt worthy Gentleman!
Man. VVould one of worth Had ſpoke it: whence it comes, it is Rather a ſhame to me, then a praiſe.
Eve. Sir, I will giue you any Satisfaction. 40
Man. Be ſilent then: “falſhood commends not truth”.
Plv. You do deliuer this, Sir, as your deed. To th’ vſe of Mr. Manly?
Fit. Yes: and Sir— VVhen did you ſee yong Wittipol? I am ready, For proceſſe now; Sir, this is Publication. 45 He ſhall heare from me, he would needes be courting My wife, Sir.
Man. Yes: So witneſſeth his Cloake there.
Fit. Nay good Sir,—Madame, you did vndertake—
Fitz-dottrel is ſuſpicious of Manly ſtill.
VVit. VVhat?
Fit. That he was not Wittipols friend.
VVit. I heare Sr. no confeſſion of it.
Fit. O ſhe know’s not; 50 Now I remember, Madame! This young Wittipol, VVould ha’ debauch’d my wife, and made me Cuckold, Through a caſement; he did fly her home To mine owne window: but I think I ſou’t him, And rauifh’d her away, out of his pownces. 55 I ha’ ſworne to ha’ him by the eares: I feare The toy, wi’ not do me right.
VVit. No? that were pitty! VVhat right doe you aske, Sir? Here he is will do’t you?
Wittipol diſcouers himſelfe.
Fit. Ha? Wittipol?
VVit. I Sir, no more Lady now, Nor Spaniard!
Man. No indeed, ’tis Wittipol. 60
Fit. Am I the thing I fear’d?
VVit. A Cuckold? No Sir, But you were late in poſſibility, I’ll tell you ſo much.
Man. But your wife’s too vertuous!
VVit. VVee’ll ſee her Sir, at home, and leaue you here, To be made Duke o’ Shore-ditch with a proiect. [157] 65
Fit. Theeues, rauiſhers.
VVit. Crie but another note, Sir, I’ll marre the tune, o’ your pipe!
Fit. Gi’ me my deed, then.
He would haue his deed again.
VVit. Neither: that ſhall be kept for your wiues good, VVho will know, better how to vſe it.
Fit. Ha’ To feaſt you with my land?
VVit. Sir, be you quiet, 70 Or I ſhall gag you, ere I goe, conſult Your Maſter of dependances; how to make this A ſecond buſineſſe, you haue time Sir.
VVitipol bafflees him, and goes out.
Fit. Oh! VVhat will the ghoſt of my wiſe Grandfather, My learned Father, with my worſhipfull Mother, 75 Thinke of me now, that left me in this world In ſtate to be their Heire? that am become A Cuckold, and an Aſſe, and my wiues Ward; Likely to looſe my land; ha’ my throat cut: All, by her practice!
Mer. Sir, we are all abus’d! 80
Fit. And be ſo ſtill! VVho hinders you, I pray you, Let me alone, I would enioy my ſelfe, And be the Duke o’ Drown’d-Land, you ha’ made me.
Mer. Sir, we muſt play an after-game o’ this.
Fit. But I am not in caſe to be a Gam-ſter: 85 I tell you once againe—
Mer. You muſt be rul’d And take some counſell.
Fit. Sir, I do hate counſell, As I do hate my wife, my wicked wife!
Mer. But we may thinke how to recouer all: If you will act.
Fit. I will not think; nor act; 90 Nor yet recouer; do not talke to me? I’ll runne out o’ my witts, rather then heare; I will be what I am, Fabian Fitz-Dottrel, Though all the world ſay nay to’t.
Mer. Let’s follow him.
[715] 21 SN. She om. W She ...] [Pointing to Manly. G
[717] 30 [To Plutarchus. G || hither 1692, f.
[718] 32 sir? [Aside to Wit. G
[720] 38 it! but now whence W, G
[725] 53 Thorow 1692 Thorough 1716, f.
[726] 54 sou’t] fou’t 1692 fought 1716, W sous’d G
[730] 73 SN.] [Baffles him, and exit with Manly. G
[732] 94 to’t. [Exit. G || Let’s Let us W, G || him. [Exeunt. G
[158]
Act. V. Scene. I.
Ambler. Pitfall. Mere-craft.
Bvt ha’s my Lady miſt me?
Pit. Beyond telling! Here ha’s been that infinity of ſtrangers! And then ſhe would ha’ had you, to ha’ ſampled you VVith one within, that they are now a teaching; And do’s pretend to your ranck.
Amb. Good fellow Pit-fall, 5 Tel Mr. Mere-craft, I intreat a word with him. Pitfall goes out. This most vnlucky accident will goe neare To be the loſſe o’ my place; I am in doubt!
Mer. VVith me? what ſay you Mr Ambler?
Amb. Sir, I would beſeech your worſhip ſtand betweene 10 Me, and my Ladies diſpleaſure, for my abſence.
Mer. O, is that all? I warrant you.
Amb. I would tell you Sir But how it happened.
Mer. Brief, good Maſter Ambler, Put your selfe to your rack: for I haue taſque Of more importance. Mere-craft ſeemes full of buſineſſe.
Amb. Sir you’ll laugh at me? 15 But (ſo is Truth) a very friend of mine, Finding by conference with me, that I liu’d Too chaſt for my complexion (and indeed Too honeſt for my place, Sir) did aduiſe me If I did loue my ſelfe (as that I do, 20 I muſt confeſſe)
Mer. Spare your Parentheſis.
Amb. To gi’ my body a little euacuation—
Mer. Well, and you went to a whore?
Amb. No, Sr. I durſt not (For feare it might arriue at ſome body’s eare, It ſhould not) truſt my ſelfe to a common houſe; 25 Ambler tels this with extraordinary ſpeed. But got the Gentlewoman to goe with me, And carry her bedding to a Conduit-head, Hard by the place toward Tyborne, which they call My L. Majors Banqueting-houſe. Now Sir, This morning Was Execution; and I ner’e dream’t on’t 30 Till I heard the noiſe o’ the people, and the horſes; And neither I, nor the poore Gentlewoman [159] Durſt ſtirre, till all was done and paſt: ſo that I’ the Interim, we fell a ſleepe againe.
He flags.
Mer. Nay, if you fall, from your gallop, I am gone Sr. 35
Amb. But, when I wak’d, to put on my cloathes, a ſute, I made new for the action, it was gone, And all my money, with my purſe, my ſeales, My hard-wax, and my table-bookes, my ſtudies, And a fine new deuiſe, I had to carry 40 My pen, and inke, my ciuet, and my tooth-picks, All vnder one. But, that which greiu’d me, was The Gentlewoman’s ſhoes (with a paire of roſes, And garters, I had giuen her for the buſineſſe) So as that made vs ſtay, till it was darke. 45 For I was faine to lend her mine, and walke In a rug, by her, barefoote, to Saint Giles’es.
Mer. A kind of Iriſh penance! Is this all, Sir?
Amb. To ſatisfie my Lady.
Mer. I will promiſe you, Sr.
Amb. I ha’ told the true Diſaſter.
Mer. I cannot ſtay wi’ you 50 Sir, to condole; but gratulate your returne.
Amb. An honeſt gentleman, but he’s neuer at leiſure To be himſelfe: He ha’s ſuch tides of buſineſſe.
[733] SD. Ambler ...] A Room in Tailbush’s House. Enter Ambler and Pitfall. G
[734] 6 entreat W, G || SN.] [Exit Pitfall. G
[744] 43, 4 (with ... garters,) W || () ret. G
Act. V. Scene. II.
Pvg. Ambler.
O, Call me home againe, deare Chiefe, and put me To yoaking foxes, milking of Hee-goates, Pounding of water in a morter, lauing The ſea dry with a nut-ſhell, gathering all The leaues are falne this Autumne, drawing farts 5 Out of dead bodies, making ropes of ſand, Catching the windes together in a net, Muſtring of ants, and numbring atomes; all That hell, and you thought exquiſite torments, rather Then ſtay me here, a thought more: I would ſooner 10 Keepe fleas within a circle, and be accomptant A thouſand yeere, which of ’hem and how far Out leap’d the other, then endure a minute Such as I haue within. There is no hell To a Lady of faſhion. All your torture there 15 Are paſtimes to it. ’T would be a refreſhing [160] For me, to be i’ the fire againe, from hence.
Ambler comes in, & ſuruayes him.
Amb. This is my ſuite, and thoſe the ſhoes and roſes!
Pvg. Th’ haue such impertinent vexations, A generall Councell o’ diuels could not hit— 20 Pug perceiues it, and ſtarts. Ha! This is hee, I tooke a ſleepe with his Wench, And borrow’d his cloathes. What might I doe to balke him?
Amb. Do you heare, Sr?
Pvg. Answ. him but not to th’purpoſe
Amb. What is your name, I pray you Sir.
Pvg. Is’t ſo late Sir?
He anſwers quite from the purpoſe.
Amb. I aske not o’ the time, but of your name, Sir. 25
Pvg. I thanke you, Sir. Yes it dos hold Sir, certaine.
Amb. Hold, Sir? what holds? I muſt both hold, and talke to you About theſe clothes.
Pvg. A very pretty lace! But the Taylor coſſend me.
Amb. No, I am coſſend By you! robb’d.
Pvg. Why, when you pleaſe Sir, I am 30 For three peny Gleeke, your man.
Amb. Pox o’ your gleeke, And three pence. Giue me an anſwere.
Pvg. Sir, My maſter is the beſt at it.
Amb. Your maſter! Who is your Maſter.
Pvg. Let it be friday night.
Amb. What ſhould be then?
Pvg. Your beſt ſongs Thom. o’ Bet’lem 35
Amb. I thinke, you are he. Do’s he mocke me trow, from purpoſe? Or do not I ſpeake to him, what I meane? Good Sir your name.
Pvg. Only a couple a’ Cocks Sir, If we can get a Widgin, ’tis in ſeaſon.
Amb. He hopes to make on o’ theſe Scipticks o’ me 40 For Scepticks. (I thinke I name ’hem right) and do’s not fly me. I wonder at that! ’tis a ſtrange confidence! I’ll prooue another way, to draw his anſwer.
[746] SD.] Scene II. Another Room in the Same. Enter Pug. G
[747] 8 mustering G numbering G
[748] 17 SN.] Enter Ambler, and surveys him. G
[750] 19 They’ve W They have G
[751] 20 SN. om. 1641 [sees Ambler.] G
[756] 35 Tom 1641, G || o’ ret. G || Bethlem 1716, G Bethlem W
[757] 38 a’] o’ 1692, 1716, W of G
Act. V. Scene. IIJ.
Mere-craft. Fitz-dottrel.
Everill. Pvg.
It is the eaſieſt thing Sir, to be done. As plaine, as fizzling: roule but wi’ your eyes, And foame at th’ mouth. A little caſtle-ſoape Will do’t, to rub your lips: And then a nutſhell, With toe, and touch-wood in it to ſpit fire, 5 Did you ner’e read, Sir, little Darrels tricks, With the boy o’ Burton, and the 7. in Lancaſhire, Sommers at Nottingham? All theſe do teach it. And wee’ll giue out, Sir, that your wife ha’s bewitch’d you: [161]
They repaire their old plot.
Eve. And practiſed with thoſe two, as Sorcerers. 10
Mer. And ga’ you potions, by which meanes you were Not Compos mentis, when you made your feoffment. There’s no recouery o’ your ſtate, but this: This, Sir, will ſting.
Eve. And moue in a Court of equity.
Mer. For, it is more then manifeſt, that this was 15 A plot o’ your wiues, to get your land.
Fit. I thinke it.
Eve. Sir it appeares.
Mer. Nay, and my coſſen has knowne Theſe gallants in theſe ſhapes.
Eve. T’haue don ſtrange things, Sir. One as the Lady, the other as the Squire.
Mer. How, a mans honeſty may be fool’d! I thought him 20 A very Lady.
Fit. So did I: renounce me elſe.
Mer. But this way, Sir, you’ll be reueng’d at height.
Eve. Vpon ’hem all.
Mer. Yes faith, and ſince your Wife Has runne the way of woman thus, e’en giue her—
Fit. Loſt by this hand, to me, dead to all ioyes 25 Of her deare Dottrell, I ſhall neuer pitty her: That could, pitty her ſelfe.
Mer. Princely reſolu’d Sir, And like your ſelfe ſtill, in Potentiâ.
[761] SD.] Scene III. A Room in Fitzdottrel’s House. Enter Meercraft, Fitzdottrel, and Everill. G
[762] 2 Roll 1692, 1716 roll W, G
[767] 27 could not pity W could [not] pity G
Act. V. Scene. IV.
Mere-craft, &c. to them. Gvilt-head.
Sledge. Plvtarchvs. Serieants.
Gvilt-head What newes?
Fit. O Sir, my hundred peices: Let me ha’ them yet.
Fitz-dottrel aſkes for his money.
Gvi. Yes Sir, officers Arreſt him.
Fit. Me?
Ser. I arreſt you.
Sle. Keepe the peace, I charge you gentlemen.
Fit. Arreſt me? Why?
Gvi. For better ſecurity, Sir. My ſonne Plutarchus 5 Aſſures me, y’are not worth a groat.
Plv. Pardon me, Father, I said his worſhip had no foote of Land left: And that I’ll iuſtifie, for I writ the deed.
Fit. Ha’ you theſe tricks i’ the citty?
Gvi. Yes, and more. Arreſt this gallant too, here, at my ſuite. 10
Meaning Mere-craft.
Sle. I, and at mine. He owes me for his lodging Two yeere and a quarter.
Mer. Why M. Guilt-head, Land-Lord, Thou art not mad, though th’art Constable Puft vp with th’ pride of the place? Do you heare, Sirs. Haue I deſeru’d this from you two? for all 15 My paines at Court, to get you each a patent.
Gvi. For what?
Mer. Vpo’ my proiect o’ the forkes,
Sle. Forkes? what be they? [162]
The Project of forks.
Mer. The laudable vſe of forkes, Brought into cuſtome here, as they are in Italy, To th’ ſparing o’ Napkins. That, that ſhould haue made 20 Your bellowes goe at the forge, as his at the fornace. I ha’ procur’d it, ha’ the Signet for it, Dealt with the Linnen-drapers, on my priuate, By cause, I fear’d, they were the likelyeſt euer To ſtirre againſt, to croſſe it; for ’twill be 25 A mighty ſauer of Linnen through the kingdome (As that is one o’ my grounds, and to ſpare waſhing) Now, on you two, had I layd all the profits. Guilt-head to haue the making of all thoſe Of gold and ſiluer, for the better perſonages; 30 And you, of thoſe of Steele for the common ſort. And both by Pattent, I had brought you your ſeales in. But now you haue preuented me, and I thanke you.
Sledge is brought about.
Sle. Sir, I will bayle you, at mine owne ap-perill.
Mer. Nay chooſe.
Plv. Do you ſo too, good Father. 35
And Guilt-head comes.
Gvi. I like the faſhion o’ the proiect, well, The forkes! It may be a lucky one! and is not Intricate, as one would ſay, but fit for Plaine heads, as ours, to deale in. Do you heare Officers, we diſcharge you.
Mer. Why this ſhewes 40 A little good nature in you, I confeſſe, But do not tempt your friends thus. Little Guilt-head, Aduiſe your ſire, great Guilt-head from theſe courſes: And, here, to trouble a great man in reuerſion, For a matter o’ fifty on a falſe Alarme, 45 Away, it ſhewes not well. Let him get the pieces And bring ’hem. Yo’ll heare more elſe.
Plv. Father.
[768] SD. Mere. ... them] To them. Mere-craft &c. 1692 Mere-craft, &c. om. 1716. W
[769] Act. ...] Enter Gilthead, Plutarchus, Sledge, and Serjeants. G
[773] 10 SN.] [Points to Meercraft. G
[776] 23, 4 private Bie, ’cause 1692, 1716 private, Because W, G
[779] 37, 8 Not intricate (l. 38) G
[780] 40 you. [Exeunt Serjeants. G
[782] 47 You’ll 1692, 1716 You’ll W || Exeunt Gilt. and Plut. Enter Ambler, dragging in Pug. G
Act. V. Scene. V.
Ambler. { To them.
O Maſter Sledge, are you here? I ha’ been to ſeeke you. You are the Conſtable, they ſay. Here’s one That I do charge with Felony, for the ſuite He weares, Sir.
Mer. Who? M. Fitz-Dottrels man? Ware what you do, M. Ambler.
Amb. Sir, theſe clothes 5 I’ll ſweare, are mine: and the ſhooes the gentlewomans I told you of: and ha’ him afore a Iuſtice, [163] I will.
Pvg. My maſter, Sir, will paſſe his word for me.
Amb. O, can you ſpeake to purpoſe now?
Fit. Not I, If you be ſuch a one Sir, I will leaue you 10 To your God fathers in Law. Let twelue men worke.
Fitz-dottrel diſclaimes him.
Png. Do you heare Sir, pray, in priuate.
Fit. well, what ſay you? Briefe, for I haue no time to looſe.
Pvg. Truth is, Sir, I am the very Diuell, and had leaue To take this body, I am in, to ſerue you; 15 Which was a Cutpurſes, and hang’d this Morning. And it is likewiſe true, I ſtole this ſuite To cloth me with. But Sir let me not goe To priſon for it. I haue hitherto Loſt time, done nothing; ſhowne, indeed, no part 20 O’ my Diuels nature. Now, I will ſo helpe Your malice, ’gainst theſe parties; ſo aduance The buſineſſe, that you haue in hand of witchcraft, And your poſſeſſion, as my ſelfe were in you. Teach you ſuch tricks, to make your belly ſwell, 25 And your eyes turne, to foame, to ſtare, to gnaſh Your teeth together, and to beate your ſelfe, Laugh loud, and faine ſix voices—
Fit. Out you Rogue! You moſt infernall counterfeit wretch! Auant! Do you thinke to gull me with your Æſops Fables? 30 Here take him to you, I ha’ no part in him.
Pvg. Sir.
Fit. Away, I do diſclaime, I will not heare you.
And ſends him away.
Mer. What ſaid he to you, Sir?
Fit. Like a lying raskall Told me he was the Diuel.
Mer. How! a good ieſt!
Fit. And that he would teach me, ſuch fine diuels tricks 35 For our new reſolution.
Eve. O’ pox on him, ’Twas excellent wiſely done, Sir, not to truſt him.
Mere-craft giues the instructions to him and the reſt.
Mer. Why, if he were the Diuel, we ſha’ not need him, If you’ll be rul’d. Goe throw your ſelfe on a bed, Sir, And faine you ill. Wee’ll not be ſeene wi’ you, 40 Till after, that you haue a fit: and all Confirm’d within. Keepe you with the two Ladies And perſwade them. I’ll to Iuſtice Either-ſide, And poſſeſſe him with all. Traines ſhall ſeeke out Ingine, And they two fill the towne with’t, euery cable 45 Is to be veer’d. We muſt employ out all Our emiſſaries now; Sir, I will ſend you Bladders and Bellowes. Sir, be confident, ’Tis no hard thing t’out doe the Deuill in: A Boy o’ thirteene yeere old made him an Aſſe 50 But t’toher day.
Fit. Well, I’ll beginne to practice; And ſcape the imputation of being Cuckold, By mine owne act.
Mer. yo’ are right.
Eve. Come, you ha’ put Your ſelfe to a ſimple coyle here, and your freinds, [164] By dealing with new Agents, in new plots. 55
Mer. No more o’ that, ſweet couſin.
Eve. What had you To doe with this ſame Wittipol, for a Lady?
Mer. Queſtion not that: ’tis done.
Eve. You had ſome ſtraine ’Boue E-la?
Mer. I had indeed.
Eve. And, now, you crack for’t.
Mer. Do not vpbraid me.
Eve. Come, you muſt be told on’t; 60 You are ſo couetous, ſtill, to embrace More then you can, that you looſe all.
Mer. ’Tis right. What would you more, then Guilty? Now, your ſuccours.
[784] 5 Ambler. Enter Fitzdottrel. G
[786] 12 private. [Takes him aside. G
[788] 32 SN.] [Exit Sledge with Pug. G
[796] 51 t’tother 1692 t’other 1716. f.
[797] 53 You’re 1716, W right. || [Exit Fitz. G
Act. V. Scene. VJ.
Shakles. Pvg. Iniquity. Divel.
Pug is brought to New-gate.
Here you are lodg’d, Sir, you muſt ſend your garniſh, If you’ll be priuat.
Pvg. There it is, Sir, leaue me. To New-gate, brought? How is the name of Deuill Diſcredited in me! What a loſt fiend Shall I be, on returne? My Cheife will roare 5 In triumph, now, that I haue beene on earth, A day, and done no noted thing, but brought That body back here, was hang’d out this morning. Well! would it once were midnight, that I knew My vtmoſt. I thinke Time be drunke, and ſleepes; 10 He is ſo ſtill, and moues not! I doe glory Now i’ my torment. Neither can I expect it, I haue it with my fact.
Enter Iniquity the Vice.
Ini. Child of hell, be thou merry: Put a looke on, as round, boy, and red as a cherry. Caſt care at thy poſternes; and firke i’ thy fetters, 15 They are ornaments, Baby, haue graced thy betters: Looke vpon me, and hearken. Our Cheife doth ſalute thee, And leaſt the coldyron ſhould chance to confute thee, H’hath ſent thee, grant-paroll by me to ſtay longer A moneth here on earth, againſt cold Child, or honger. 20
Pvg. How? longer here a moneth?
Ing. Yes, boy, till the Seſſion, That ſo thou mayeſt haue a triumphall egreſſion.
Pvg. In a cart, to be hang’d.
Ing. No, Child, in a Carre, The charriot of Triumph, which moſt of them are. And in the meane time, to be greazy, and bouzy, 25 And naſty, and filthy, and ragged and louzy, With dam’n me, renounce me, and all the fine phraſes; That bring, vnto Tiborne, the plentifull gazes.
Pvg. He is a Diuell! and may be our Cheife! [165] The great Superiour Diuell! for his malice: 30 Arch-diuel! I acknowledge him. He knew What I would ſuffer, when he tie’d me vp thus In a rogues body: and he has (I thanke him) His tyrannous pleaſure on me, to confine me To the vnlucky carkaſſe of a Cutpurſe, 35 wherein I could do nothing.
The great Deuill enters, and vpbraids him with all his dayes worke.
Div. Impudent fiend, Stop thy lewd mouth. Doeſt thou not ſhame and tremble To lay thine owne dull damn’d defects vpon An innocent caſe, there? Why thou heauy ſlaue! The ſpirit, that did poſſeſſe that fleſh before 40 Put more true life, in a finger, and a thumbe, Then thou in the whole Maſſe. Yet thou rebell’ſt And murmur’ſt? What one profer haſt thou made, Wicked inough, this day, that might be call’d Worthy thine owne, much leſſe the name that ſent thee? 45 Firſt, thou did’ſt helpe thy ſelfe into a beating Promptly, and with’t endangered’ſt too thy tongue: A Diuell, and could not keepe a body intire One day! That, for our credit. And to vindicate it, Hinderd’ſt (for ought thou know’ſt) a deed of darkneſſe: 50 Which was an act of that egregious folly, As no one, to’ard the Diuel, could ha’ thought on. This for your acting! but for suffering! why Thou haſt beene cheated on, with a falſe beard, And a turn’d cloake. Faith, would your predeceſſour 55 The Cutpurſe, thinke you, ha’ been ſo? Out vpon thee, The hurt th’ haſt don, to let men know their ſtrength, And that the’are able to out-doe a diuel Put in a body, will for euer be A ſcarre vpon our Name! whom haſt thou dealt with, 60 Woman or man, this day, but haue out-gone thee Some way, and moſt haue prou’d the better fiendes? Yet, you would be imploy’d? Yes, hell ſhall make you Prouinciall o’ the Cheaters! or Bawd-ledger, For this ſide o’ the towne! No doubt you’ll render 65 A rare accompt of things. Bane o’ your itch, And ſcratching for imployment. I’ll ha’ brimſtone To allay it ſure, and fire to ſindge your nayles off, But, that I would not ſuch a damn’d diſhonor Sticke on our ſtate, as that the diuell were hang’d; 70 And could not ſaue a body, that he tooke From Tyborne, but it muſt come thither againe: You ſhould e’en ride. But, vp away with him—
Iniquity takes him on his back.
Ini. Mount, dearling of darkneſſe, my ſhoulders are broad: He that caries the fiend, is ſure of his loade. 75 The Diuell was wont to carry away the euill; [166] But, now, the Euill out-carries the Diuell.
[800] SD. VJJ VII. W Act. ...] Scene IV. A Cell in Newgate. Enter Shakles, with Pvg in chains. G
[802] SN. (after ‘fact.’ 13) the Vice om. G
[806] 22 maist 1692 may’st 1716 mayst W, G
[807] 36 SN.] Enter Satan. G Div.] Sat. G
[812] 58 the’are] they are 1641, G the’are are 1692 they’re 1716, W
[815] 64 Cheaters] heaters 1641
[816] 77 [Exeunt. [A loud explosion, smoke, &c. G
Act. V. Scene. VIJ.
Shakles. Keepers.
A great noise is heard in New-gate, and the Keepers come out affrighted.
O mee!
Kee. 1. What’s this?
2. A piece of Iustice Hall Is broken downe.
3. Fough! what a ſteeme of brimſtone Is here?
4. The priſoner’s dead, came in but now!
Sha. Ha? where?
4. Look here.
Kee. S’lid, I ſhuld know his countenance! It is Gill-Cut-purſe, was hang’d out, this morning! 5
Sha. ’Tis he!
2. The Diuell, ſure, has a hand in this!
3. What ſhall wee doe?
Sha. Carry the newes of it Vnto the Sherifes.
1. And to the Iuſtices.
4. This ſtrange!
3. And ſauours of the Diuell, ſtrongly!
2. I’ ha’ the ſulphure of Hell-coale i’ my noſe. 10
1. Fough.
Sha. Carry him in.
1. Away.
2. How ranke it is!
[817] SD.] Enter Shakles, and the Under-keepers, affrighted. G
[818] 3 Is here?] part of line 2 W
[820] 11 [Exeunt with the body. G
Act. V. Scene. VIII.
Sir Povle. Mere-craft. Ever-ill.
Traines. Pitfall. Fitz-dottrel.
{To them}
VVittipol. Manly. Miſtreſſe Fitz-dottrel.
Ingine. To them } Gvilt-head.
Sledge. to them } Shackles.
The Iuſtice comes out wondring, and the reſt informing him.
This was the notableſt Conſpiracy, That ere I heard of.
Mer. Sir, They had giu’n him potions, That did enamour him on the counterfeit Lady—
Eve. Iuſt to the time o’ deliuery o’ the deed—
Mer. And then the witchcraft ’gan’t’ appeare, for ſtreight 5 He fell into his fit.
Eve. Of rage at firſt, Sir, Which ſince, has ſo increaſed.
Tay. Good Sr. Poule, ſee him, And puniſh the impoſtors.
Pov. Therefore I come, Madame.
Eit. Let Mr. Etherſide alone, Madame.
Pov. Do you heare? Call in the Conſtable, I will haue him by: 10 H’is the Kings Officer! and ſome Cittizens, [167] Of credit! I’ll diſcharge my conſcience clearly.
Mer. Yes, Sir, and ſend for his wife.
Eve. And the two Sorcerers, By any meanes!
Tay. I thought one a true Lady, I ſhould be ſworne. So did you, Eyther-ſide? 15
Eit. Yes, by that light, would I might ne’r ſtir elſe, Tailbuſh.
Tay. And the other a ciuill Gentleman.
Eve. But, Madame, You know what I told your Ladyſhip.
Tay. I now ſee it: I was prouiding of a banquet for ’hem. After I had done inſtructing o’ the fellow 20 De-uile, the Gentlemans man.
Mer. Who’s found a thiefe, Madam. And to haue rob’d your Vsher, Maſter Ambler, This morning.
Tay. How?
Mer. I’ll tell you more, anon.
Fit. Gi me ſome garlicke, garlicke, garlicke, garlicke.
He beginnes his fit.
Mer. Harke the poore Gentleman, how he is tormented! 25
Fit. My wife is a whore, I’ll kiſſe her no more: and why? Ma’ſt not thou be a Cuckold, as well as I? Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, &c.
Pov. That is the Diuell ſpeakes, and laughes in him.
The Iuſtice interpret all:
Mer. Do you thinke ſo, Sr.
Pov. I diſcharge my conſcience. 30
Fit. And is not the Diuell good company? Yes, wis.
Eve. How he changes, Sir, his voyce!
Fit. And a Cuckold is Where ere hee put his head, with a a Wanion, If his hornes be forth, the Diuells companion! Looke, looke, looke, elſe.
Mer. How he foames!
Eve. And ſwells! 35
Tay. O, me! what’s that there, riſes in his belly!
Eit. A ſtrange thing! hold it downe:
Tra. Pit. We cannot, Madam.
Pov. ’Tis too apparent this!
Fit. Wittipol, Wittipol.
Wittipol, and Manly and Mistr. Fitz-dottrel enter.
Wit. How now, what play ha’ we here.
Man. What fine, new matters?
Wit. The Cockſcomb, and the Couerlet.
Mer. O ſtrang impudēce! 40 That theſe ſhould come to face their ſinne!
Eve. And out-face Iuſtice, they are the parties, Sir.
Pov. Say nothing.
Mer. Did you marke, Sir, vpon their comming in, How he call’d Wittipol.
Eve. And neuer ſaw ’hem.
Pov. I warrant you did I, let ’hem play a while. 45
Fit. Buz, buz, buz, buz.
Tay. Laſſe poore Gentleman! How he is tortur’d!
Mrs. Fi. Fie, Maſter Fitz-dottrel! What doe you meane to counterfait thus?
Fit. O, ô, His wife goes to him. Shee comes with a needle, and thruſts it in, Shee pulls out that, and ſhee puts in a pinne, 50 And now, and now, I doe not know how, nor where, But ſhee pricks mee heere, and ſhee pricks me there: ôh, ôh:
Pov. Woman forbeare.
Wit. What, Sr?
Pov. A practice foule For one ſo faire:
Wit. Hath this, then, credit with you?
Man. Do you beleeue in’t?
Pov. Gentlemen, I’ll diſcharge My conſcience. ’Tis a cleare conſpiracy! 56 A darke, and diuelliſh practice! I deteſt it!
Wit. The Iuſtice ſure will proue the merrier man! [168]
Man. This is moſt ſtrange, Sir!
Pov. Come not to confront Authority with impudence: I tell you, I doe deteſt it. Here comes the Kings Conſtable, And with him a right worſhipfull Commoner; My good friend, Maſter Guilt-head! I am glad I can before ſuch witneſſes, profeſſe My conſcience, and my deteſtation of it. 65 Horible! moſt vnaturall! Abominable!
Eve. You doe not tumble enough.
Mer. Wallow, gnaſh:
They whiſper him.
Tay. O, how he is vexed!
Pov. ’Tis too manifeſt.
Eve. Giue him more ſoap to foame with, now lie ſtill.
and giue him ſoape to act with.
Mer. And act a little.
Tay. What do’s he now, Sr.
Pov. Shew The taking of Tabacco, with which the Diuell Is ſo delighted.
Fit. Hum!
Pov. And calls for Hum. You takers of ſtrong Waters, and Tabacco, Marke this.
Fit. Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow, &c.
Pov. That’s Starch! the Diuells Idoll of that colour. 75 He ratifies it, with clapping of his hands. The proofes are pregnant.
Gvi. How the Diuel can act!
Pov. He is the Maſter of Players! Master Guilt-head, And Poets, too! you heard him talke in rime! I had forgot to obſerue it to you, ere while! 80
Tay. See, he ſpits fire.
Pov. O no, he plaies at Figgum, The Diuell is the Author of wicked Figgum—
Sir Poule interprets Figgum to be a Iuglers game.
Man. Why ſpeake you not vnto him?
Wit. If I had All innocence of man to be indanger’d, And he could ſaue, or ruine it: I’ld not breath 85 A ſyllable in requeſt, to ſuch a foole, He makes himſelfe.
Fit. O they whiſper, whiſper, whiſper. Wee ſhall haue more, of Diuells a ſcore, To come to dinner, in mee the ſinner.
Eyt. Alas, poore Gentleman!
Pov. Put ’hem aſunder. 90 Keepe ’hem one from the other.
Man. Are you phrenticke, Sir, Or what graue dotage moues you, to take part VVith so much villany? wee are not afraid Either of law, or triall; let vs be Examin’d what our ends were, what the meanes? 95 To worke by, and poſſibility of thoſe meanes. Doe not conclude againſt vs, ere you heare vs.
Pov. I will not heare you, yet I will conclude Out of the circumſtances.
Man. VVill you ſo, Sir?
Pov. Yes, they are palpable:
Man. Not as your folly: 100
Pov. I will diſcharge my conſcience, and doe all To the Meridian of Iuſtice:
Gvi. You doe well, Sir.
Fit. Prouide mee to eat, three or foure diſhes o’ good meat, I’ll feaſt them, and their traines, a Iuſtice head and braines Shall be the firſt.
Pov. The Diuell loues not Iuſtice, [169] There you may ſee.
Fit. A ſpare-rib O’ my wife, 106 And a whores purt’nance! a Guilt-head whole.
Pov. Be not you troubled, Sir, the Diuell ſpeakes it.
Fit. Yes, wis, Knight, ſhite, Poule, Ioule, owle, foule, troule, boule.
Pov. Crambe, another of the Diuell’s games! 110
Mer. Speake. Sir, ſome Greeke, if you can. Is not the Iuſtice A ſolemne gameſter?
Eve. Peace.
Fit. Οὶ μοὶ, κακοδαιμων, Καὶ τρισκακοδαίμων, καὶ τετράκις, καὶ πεντάκις, Καὶ δοδεκάκις, καὶ μυριάκις.
Pov. Hee curſes. In Greeke, I thinke.
Eve. Your Spaniſh, that I taught you. 115
Fit. Quebrémos el ojo de burlas,
Eve. How? your reſt— Let’s breake his necke in ieſt, the Diuell ſaies.
Fit. Di grátia, Signòr mio ſe haúete denári fataméne parte.
Mer. What, would the Diuell borrow money?
Fit. Ouy, Ouy Monſieur, ùn pàuure Diable! Diablet in! 120
Pov. It is the diuell, by his ſeuerall langauges.
Enter the Keeper of New-gate.
Sha. Where’s Sr. Poule Ether-ſide?
Pov. Here, what’s the matter?
Sha. O! ſuch an accident falne out at Newgate, Sir: A great piece of the priſon is rent downe! The Diuell has beene there, Sir, in the body— 125 Of the young Cut-Purſe, was hang’d out this morning, But, in new clothes, Sir, euery one of vs know him. Theſe things were found in his pocket.
Amb. Thoſe are mine, Sr.
Sha. I thinke he was commited on your charge, Sir. For a new felony.
Amb. Yes.
Sha. Hee’s gone, Sir, now, 130 And left vs the dead body. But withall, Sir, Such an infernall ſtincke, and ſteame behinde, You cannot ſee St. Pulchars Steeple, yet. They ſmell’t as farre as Ware, as the wind lies, 134 By this time, ſure.
Fit. Is this vpon your credit, friend?
Fitz-dottrel leaues counterfaiting.
Sha. Sir, you may ſee, and ſatisfie your ſelfe.
Fit. Nay, then, ’tis time to leaue off counterfeiting. Sir I am not bewitch’d, nor haue a Diuell: No more then you. I doe defie him, I, And did abuſe you. Theſe two Gentlemen 140 Put me vpon it. (I haue faith againſt him) They taught me all my tricks. I will tell truth, And ſhame the Feind. See, here, Sir, are my bellowes, And my falſe belly, and my Mouſe, and all That ſhould ha’ come forth?
Man. Sir, are not you aſham’d Now of your ſolemne, ſerious vanity? 146
Pov. I will make honorable amends to truth.
Fit. And ſo will I. But theſe are Coozeners, ſtill; And ha’ my land, as plotters, with my wife: Who, though ſhe be not a witch, is worſe, a whore. 150
Man. Sir, you belie her. She is chaſte, and vertuous, And we are honeſt. I doe know no glory [170] A man ſhould hope, by venting his owne follyes, But you’ll ſtill be an Aſſe, in ſpight of prouidence. Pleaſe you goe in, Sir, and heare truths, then iudge ’hem: And make amends for your late raſhneſſe; when, 156 You ſhall but heare the paines and care was taken, To ſaue this foole from ruine (his Grace of Drown’d-land)
Fit. My land is drown’d indeed—
Pov. Peace.
Man. And how much His modeſt, and too worthy wife hath ſuffer’d 160 By miſ-conſtruction, from him, you will bluſh, Firſt, for your owne beliefe, more for his actions! His land is his: and neuer, by my friend, Or by my ſelfe, meant to another vſe, But for her ſuccours, who hath equall right. 165 If any other had worſe counſells in’t, (I know I ſpeake to thoſe can apprehend mee) Let ’hem repent ’hem, and be not detected. It is not manly to take ioy, or pride In humane errours. (wee doe all ill things, 170 They doe ’hem worſt that loue ’hem, and dwell there, Till the plague comes) The few that haue the ſeeds Of goodneſſe left, will ſooner make their way To a true life, by ſhame, then puniſhment.
THE END.
[821] SD. Sir] To them.] Sir 1692 to them om. 1692, 1716, W Act. ...] Scene V. A Room in Fitzdottrel’s House. Fitzdottrel discovered in bed; Lady Eitherside, Tailbush, Ambler, Trains, and Pitfall, standing by him. Enter Sir Paul Eitherside, Meercraft, and Everill. G
[822] 1 SN. and] at 1692, 1716, W The ...] om. G
[825] 14 means. [Exit Ambler. G
[828] 28 ha, om. W ha, &c. om. G
[829] 29 SN. interprets 1692, 1716, W The ...] om. G
[831] 38 SN. Wittipol, and ... enter] Enter Wittipol, ... G
[835] 58 prove to be the merrier? 1641
[836] 60 impudence] insolence 1641
[837] 61 it.—Re-enter Ambler, with Sledge and Guilthead. G
[847] 87 He makes himselfe] I’d rather fall 1641 O they whisper, they whisper, whisper, &c. 1641
[851] 111 can. [Aside to Fitz.] G
[852] 112 κακοδάμων 1692, 1716
[856] 119 Fit. Ouy,] in line 120, 1692, f.
[857] 121 SN.] Enter Shackles, with the things found on the body of the Cut-purse. G
[859] 135 SN.] Fitz. [starts up.] G
[861] 145 not you] you not W, G
[862] 148 Coozners 1641 Cozeners 1692, 1716 cozeners W, G
[866] 174 [He comes forward for the Epilogue. G
[867] 175 ‘The End.’ after line 6 1692 om. 1716 W, G
The Epilogue.
Thus, the Proiecter, here, is ouer-throwne. But I have now a Proiect of mine owne, If it may paſſe: that no man would inuite The Poet from vs, to ſup forth to night, 5 If the play pleaſe. If it diſpleaſant be, We doe preſume, that no man will: nor wee.