SCENE III.
Enter Bright, Newcut, Timothy, Plotwell.
Tim. Lady, let me taste the Elysium of your lips.
Aur. Why, what are you? You will not leap me, sir?
Pray, know your distance.
Tim. What am I, sweet lady?
My father is an alderman's fellow; and I
Hope to be one in time.
Aur. Then, sir, in time
You may be remembered at the quenching of
Fir'd houses, when the bells ring backward,[204] by
Your name upon the buckets.[205]
Tim. Nay, they say
You have a good wit, lady, and I can find it
As soon as another. I in my time have been
O' th' university, and should have been a scholar.
Aur. By the size of your wit, sir, had you kept
To that profession, I can foresee
You would have been a great persecutor of nature
And great consumer of rush candles, with
As small success as if a tortoise should
Day and night practise to run races. Having
Contemplated yourself into ill-looks,
In pity to so much affliction,
You might ha' pass'd for learned; and't may be,
If you had fallen out with the Muses, and
'Scap'd poetry, you might have risen to scarlet.
Tim. Here's a rare lady with all my heart. By this
Light, gentlemen, now have I no more language
Than a dumb parrot. A little more, she'll jeer me
Into a fellow that turns upon his toe
In a steeple, and strikes quarters![206]
Bright. And why should you
Be now so dainty of your lips? Verily,
They are not virgins: they have tasted man.
Aur. And may again; but then I'll be secur'd
For the sweet air o' th' parties. If you
Will bring it me confirm'd under the hands
Of four sufficient ladies, that you are
Clean men, you may chance kiss my woman.
New. Lady,
Our lips are made of the same clay that yours [are,]
And have not been refused.
Aur. 'Tis right, you are
Two inns-of-court men.
Bright. Yes, what then?
Aur. Known Cladders[207]
Through all the town.
Bright. Cladders?
Aur. Yes, catholic lovers,
From country madams to your glover's wife,
Or laundress;[208] will not let poor gentlewomen
Take physic quietly, but disturb their pills
From operation with your untaught visits;
Or, if they be employ'd, contrive small plots
Below stairs with the chambermaid; commend
Her fragrant breath, which five yards off salutes,
At four deflow'rs a rose, at three kills spiders.
New. What dangerous truths these are!
Aur. Ravish a lock
From the yellow waiting-woman; use stratagems
To get her silver whistle, and waylay
Her pewter-knots or bodkin.
New. Pretty, pretty!
Bright. You think you have abus'd us now?
Aur. I'll tell you:
Had I in all the world but forty mark,
And that got by my needle, and making socks,
And were that forty mark mill'd sixpences,
Spur-royals, Harry-groats,[209] or such odd coin
Of husbandry, as in the king's reign now
Would never pass, I would despise you.
New. Lady,
Your wit will make you die a wither'd virgin.
Bright. We shall in time, when your most tyrant tongue
Hath made this house a wilderness, and you
As unfrequented as a statesman fallen;
When you shall quarrel with your face and glass,
Till from your pencil you have rais'd new cheeks—
See you beg suitors, write bills o'er your door:
"Here is an ancient lady to be let."
New. You think you are handsome now, and that your eyes
Make star-shooting, and dart.[210]
Aur. 'T may be I do.
New. May I not prosper if I have not seen
A better face in signs or gingerbread.
Tim. Yes, I for twopence oft have bought a better.
Bright. What a sweet, innocent look you have!
Plot. Fie, gentlemen,
Abuse a harmless lady thus! I can't
With patience hear your blasphemies. Make me
Your second, madam.
Tim. And make me your third.
Aur. O prodigy, to hear an image speak!
Why, sir, I took you for a mute i' th' hangings.
I'll tell the faces.
Tim. Gentlemen, do I
Look like one of them Trojans?[211]
Aur. 'tis So; Your Face
Is missing here, sir; pray, step back again,
And fill the number. You, I hope, have more
Truth in you than to filch yourself away,
And leave my room unfurnish'd.
Plot. By this light
She'll send for a constable straight, and apprehend him
For thievery.
Tim. Why, lady, do you think me
Wrought in a loom, some Dutch piece weav'd at Mortlake?[212]
Aur. Surely You Stood So Simply, Like a Man
Penning of recantations, that I suspected
Y' had been a part of the monopoly.
But now I know you have a tongue, and are
A very man, I'll think you only dull,
And pray for better utterance.
Plot. Lady, you make
Rash judgment of him; he was only struck
With admiration of your beauty.
Tim. Truly, and so I was.
Aur. Then you can wonder, sir?
Plot. Yes, when he sees such miracles as you.
Aur. And love me, can't you?
Tim. Love you! By this hand,
I'd love a dog of your sweet looks: I am
Enamour'd of you, lady.
Aur. Ha, ha, ha! now surely
I wonder you wear not a cap: your case
Requires warm things! I'll send you forth a caudle. [Exit.
Bright. The plague of rotten teeth, wrinkles, loud lungs,
Be with you, madam.
Tim. Had I now pen and ink,
If I were urg'd, I'd fain know whether I
In conscience ought not to set down myself
No wiser than I should be?
Plot. Gentlemen, how like you her wit?
Tim. Wit! I verily
Believe she was begotten by some wit;
And he that has her may beget plays on her.
New. Her wit had need be good, it finds her house.
Tim. Her house! 'tis able to find the court: if she
Be chaste to[213] all this wit, I do not think
But that she might be shown.
Bright. She speaks with salt,
And has a pretty scornfulness, which now
I've seen, I'm satisfied.
New. Come then away to Roseclap's.
Tim. Lead on; let us dine. This lady
Runs in my head still.
Enter a Footman.
Foot. Sir, my lady prays
You would dismiss your company; she has
Some business with you.
Plot. Gentlemen, walk softly; I'll overtake you.
Bright. Newcut, 'slight! her wit
Is come to private meetings!
New. Ay, I thought
She had some other virtues. Well, make haste,
We'll stay without; when thou hast done, inform us
What the rate is: if she be reasonable,
We'll be her customers.
Plot. Y' are merry, sir. [Exit Bright, Newcut, Timothy.