SCENE II.
Enter Bannswright.
Aur. O Master Bannswright, are you come!
My woman
Was in her preaching fit: she only wanted
A table's end.
Ban. Why, what's the matter?
Aur. Never
Poor lady had so much unbred holiness
About her person; I am never dress'd
Without a sermon; but am forc'd to prove
The lawfulness of curling-irons, before
She'll crisp me in a morning. I must show
Text for the fashions of my gowns. She'll ask
Where jewels are commanded? or what lady
I' th' primitive times wore ropes of pearl or rubies?
She will urge councils for her little ruff,
Call'd in Northamptonshire;[196] and her whole service
Is a mere confutation of my clothes.
Ban. Why, madam, I assure you, time hath been,
However she be otherwise, when she had
A good quick wit, and would have made to a lady
A serviceable sinner.
Aur. She can't preserve
The gift, for which I took her; but, as though
She were inspir'd from Ipswich,[197] she will make
The Acts and Monuments in sweetmeats, quinces
Arraign'd and burnt at a stake: all my banquets
Are persecutions; Dioclesian's days
Are brought for entertainment, and we eat martyrs.
Ban. Madam, she is far gone.
Aur. Nay, sir, she is a Puritan at her needle too.
Ban. Indeed!
Aur. She works religious petticoats;[198] for flowers
She'll make church-histories. Her needle doth
So sanctify my cushionets; besides,
My smock-sleeves have such holy embroideries,
And are so learned, that I fear in time
All my apparel will be quoted by
Some pure instructor.[199] Yesterday I went
To see a lady that has a parrot: my woman,
While I was in discourse, converted the fowl;
And now it can speak nought but Knox's works;[200]
So there's a parrot lost.
Ban. Faith, madam, she
Was earnest to come to you. Had I known
Her mistress had so bred her, I would first
Have preferred her to New England.[201]
Dor. Surely, sir,
You promised me, when you did take my money,
To help me to a faithful service, a lady
That would be saved, not one that loves profane,
Unsanctified fashions.
Aur. Fly my sight,
You goody Hofman,[202] and keep your chamber, till
You can provide yourself some cure, or I
Will forthwith excommunicate your zeal,
And make you a silent waiting-woman.
Ban. Mistress Dorcas,
If you'll be usher to that holy, learned woman
That can heal broken shins, scald heads and th' itch,
Your schoolmistress; that can expound, and teaches
To knit in Chaldee, and work Hebrew samplers,
I'll help you back again.
Dor. The motion, sure, is good,
And I will ponder of it. [Exit Dorcas.
Aur. From thy zeal,
The frantic ladies' judgments, and Histriomastix,[203]
Deliver me! This was of your preferring;
You must needs help me to another.
Ban. How
Would you desire her qualified? deformed
And crooked? like some ladies who do wear
Their women like black patches, to set them off?
Aur. I need no foil, nor shall I think I'm white
Only between two Moors; or that my nose
Stands wrong, because my woman's doth stand right.
Ban. But you would have her secret, able to keep
Strange sights from th' knowledge of your knight, when you
Are married, madam; of a quick-feigning head?
Aur. You wrong me, Bannswright: she whom I would have
Must to her handsome shape have virtue too.
Ban. Well, madam, I shall fit you. I do know
A choleric lady which, within these three weeks,
Has, for not cutting her corns well, put off
Three women; and is now about to part
With the fourth—just one of your description.
Next change o' th' moon or weather, when her feet
Do ache again, I do believe I shall
Pleasure your ladyship.
Aur. Expect your reward. [Exit Bannswright.