[ACT THE FIRST.
Scene 1.]
Enter Accutus and Graccus.
Gra. Nay but, Accutus, prethee what mis-shapen vizard of Melancholly hast thou mask't thy selfe in? Thou lookst as thou wer't changing thy religion; what? is there a breach in thy Faith? come declare, and let me set thy [my?] wits on worke to amend it.
Acut. Ha, ha, ha!
Gra. Prettie; a man's well advisd to offer good counsell, and be laught at for his labour: we shall shortly have no counsellors, but Physitians; I spend my breath to thee, and thou answerest me some half an houre after in a sembreve, or like to a Sexton, with a Sobeit or Amen.
Acu. Condemn my Stars then!
Grac. I should wrong am then, as thou dost with a false inditment. I know it took not beeing at thy birth: thou hast been merrie, thou hast sounded hoopes, swallowed whiffes, walkt late, worn favours, seene whoresons; thou canst feele and understand, come thou hast bene a sinner, unloade, discharge, untune, confesse, is Venus dominatrix? art not in love?
Acut. Yes, I love God and my neighbors.
Grac. Then either for God's sake or thy Neighbors, or both, be smothe, and participate; ist not some underlayer, some she Cammell, that will beare as much of her belly as three beastes on their backes? some Lanthorne-maker? Ile holde thy head; come, up with't!
Acut. Prethee, I hate none, but heaven hate me if I be in love with any.
Grac. Off with these clogs; then break prison and get out of this melancholly Gaole. Harke how the generall noise doth welcome from the Parthian wars; each spirit's jocund, fraught with glee, then wrong not thine with this dull meditation.
Accut. Oh! how doe they then wrong my meditation! my thoughts are with themselues at a counsell; til with noise, and thou with continuall talke, hast driven them to a nonplus.
Gra. Then make me of thy counsell, and take my advice, for ile take no denyall; Ile not leave thee til the next new Almanackes be out of date; let him threaten the sharpest weather he can in Saint Swithin week, or it snow on our Ladies face, ile not budge, ile be thy mid-wife til thou beest delivered of this passion.
Accut. Partake then, and give me the beleefe; thinkst thou or knowst thou any of this opinion, that that mooving marish element, that swels and swages as it please the Moone, to be in bignes equall to that solid lump that brings us up?
Gra. I was sure that thou wer't beyond the Antipodes; faith, I am of that faith I was brought up in, I have heard my Father say, and i'me sure, his Recordes came from his Father, that Land and Sea are in nature thus much alike; the owne [sic] growes by the Sunne, the other by the Moone, both by God's blessing, and the Sea rather the greater; and so thinke I.
Acut. Good; there we have a farther scope, and holde the sea can (as a looking glasse) answer with a meere simile[221] any mooving shape uppon the earth.
Gra. Nay, that's most certaine, I have heard of Sea-horses, Sea-calves, and Sea-monsters.
Acut. Oh, they are monstrous, madde, merrie, wenches, and they are monsters.
Grac.[222] They call them Sea-maides, or Mermaides, singing sweetelye, but none dares trust them; and are verie like our Land-wenches, devouring Serpents, from the middle downeward.
Acut. Thou hast even given me satisfaction, but hast thou this by proofe?
Grac. Not by my travels (so God helpe me): marrie, ile bring ye fortie Saylers, will sweare they have seene them.
Acut. In truth!
Grac. In truth or otherwise.
Acut. Faith they are not unlike our land-monsters, else why should this Maximilian Lord, for whom these shoots [sic] and noises befits thus, forsake his honours to sing a Lullabye? These seeming Saints, alluring evils, That make earth Erebus, and mortals devils—
Gra. Come, thou art Sea-sicke, and will not be well at ease, til thou hast tane a vomit: up with 't.
Acu. Why, ifaith, I must; I can not soothe the World
With velvet words and oyly flatteries,
And kiss the sweatie feet of magnitude
To purchace smiles or a deade mans office;
I cannot holde to see a rib of man,
A moytie of it selfe, commaund the whole;
Bafful and bend to muliebritie.
O[223] female scandal! observe, doe but observe:
Heere one walks ore-growne with weeds of pride,
The earth wants shape to apply a simile,
A body prisoned up with walles of wyer,
With bones of whales; somewhat allyed to fish,
But from the wast declining, more loose doth hang
Then her wanton dangling lascivious locke
Thats whirld and blowne with everie lustfull breath;
Her necke in chaines, all naked lyes her brest,
Her body lighter than the feathered Crest.
Another powtes, and scoules, and hangs the lip,
Even as the banckrout[224] credit of her husband
Cannot equal her with honors liverie.
What does she care if, for to deck her brave,
Hee's carryed from the Gate-house to his grave!
Another in a rayling pulppet key,
Drawes through her nose the accent of her voice,
And in the presence of her good-man Goate
Cries 'fye, now fye, uppon these wicked men
That use such beastly and inhumane talke,'
When being in private all her studies warne
To make him enter into Capricorn.
Another as she goes treads a Canarie[225] pace,
Jets it so fine and minces so demure
As mistris Bride upon her marriage day;
Her heels are Corke, her body Atlas,
Her Beautie bought, her soule an Atomus.
Another, with a spleene-devoured face,
Her eies as hollow as Anatomy,[226]
Her tung more venome then a Serpents sting,
Which when it wagges within her chap-faln jawes
Is noise more horrid then a cry of hounds
With open mouths pursuing of their game.
Wants she but ritch attire or costly dyet,
With her the Devill can nere live in quiet.
Yet these are weaker vessels, heaven doth knowe;
Lay on them ought but ease, you doe them wrong;
They are as weake as water and indeede as strong,
And then, like mightie ships when pellets sincke,
To them lay more men, sheele never shrinke.
[Enter[227] Getica and Boss, with a dog.]
Boss. Mistris, that face wants a fresh Glosse.
Gent. Prethee, dib it in well, Bos.
Acut. Pigmaleon, Pigmaleon, I coniure thee appeare; to worke, to worke, make more Marble Ingles. Nature thou art a foole, Art is above thee; Belzebub, paint thy face there's some will love thee.
Boss. Rare, Mistris, heeres a cheeke like a Camelion or a blasing Star, you shall heere me blaze it; heere's two saucers sanguine in a sable field pomegranet, a pure pendat ready to drop out of the stable, a pin and web argent in hayre de Roy.
Grac. And a fooles head in the Crest.
Bos. In the Crest? oh sweete Vermilion mistris, tis pittie the Vermilion Wormes shoulde eate thee, ile set it with pretious stones and ye will.
Gent. Enough, sweete Bosse, throwe a little water to spurt's face and lets away.
Bo. Hold up; so, sir, now away. Oh Mistris, your scantling, most sweete mistriss, most derydent starre.
Acut. Then most rydent starre, faire fall ye.
Grac. Nay tis the Moone her self, for there's her man and her Dogge before.
Bosse. I, sir, but the man is not in the moone, and my bush is before me, ergo, not at my backe, et ergo, not moone sir.
Gent. What's your will sir?
Acut. That you would leave us.
Boss. Leave you! zounds, sir! we scorne their companies, come they are still, doe not open to them, we have no Conies to catch.
[Exeunt[228] Getica and Boss, with the dog.
Acut. Away, keepe no distance, even both together,
for wit ye may be Coacht together.
What sleeke-browde Saint can see this Idiotisme,
The shape and workmanship of omnipotency
To be so blinde with drugs of beastlinesse,
That will not bend the browe and bite the lippe,
Trouble his quiet soule with venome spleene
And feare least the all over-seeer
Can without vengeance see these ignomies?
Grac. Why, therfore are they belooved like Sargeants and entertained like Beggers; Think'st thou but any honorable Gate, But will be shut against these Butterflies?
Acut. Oh Graccus! thou beguil'st opinion:
The Gates of great men stand more wide
To entertaine a foole then Cresus armes
To hug the Golden God; and faster bard
Against necessitie then Dives entrance
At Olympus gate.
Enter Servulus,[229] Scillicet, Philautus and boy.
Servu.[230] Fa, la, sol, lasol; Boy, a Glasse.
Boy. Tis but one and all, sir.
Acut. Angels protect us, what have we heare?
Boy. Ye haue a good memorie, Sir, for they are five minutes ere windefall of your Glasse.
Ser. Sir, be credible, tis ballanst to be superlative politicke custome in these houres to dwell in shallowe accoutrements, as a defence for the abilitie of his pursse from the infringed Oath of some impudent face, that will borrowe a gentlemans revenewes if he be vestally adornd: Ile tell you sir by this bright Horrison—
Scil. A word, I pray yee, sir, ere ye go any further: Boy, my Tables.
Boy. Your Tables are ready, Sir, and all the men ye keep which is indeede halfe a Boy, Scillicet Videlicet.
Scil. I pray ye let me request that oath of you.
Serv. A graceful enquirie, and well observ'd: Sir, my company shall make ye copious of novelties, let your Tables befriend your memorie: write, 'by this bright Horrison.'
Phy. 'Here's[231] none but only I' [sing]; Boy, how likest thou my head of hayre?
Boy. Your Glasse may flatter ye, but truely I will not; your head is not a hayre better than it should be.
Phy. Is there any scarcitie of haire, Boy?
Boy. Somewhat thin and yet there is more hayre than wit.[232]
Phy. How, Boy?
Boy. Then wit of man can number sir, take it i'th right sence, I pray yee.
Phy. Most ingenious!
Acu. O muffle muffle, good Graccus, do not taint thy sence
With sight of these infectious animalles,
'Less[233] reason in thee have the upper hand
To governe sence, to see and shun the sight.
Here's new discovered sins, past all the rest;
Men strive to practice how to sweare the best.'
Scil. I have quoted it, sir; by this bright Hore, Horeson, pronounce ye, sir?
Serv. Horison!
Scil. Horison:—the Widowes mite, sir.
Serv. Not for the Soldans crown, sir.
Scil. Indeede yee shall, by this bright horison ye shall; beleeve me, if I sweare, I think myself beholding for I know it to be no common oath.
Serv. Were it common it past not these doores; Sir, I shift my oathes, as I wash my hands, twice in the artificial day; for in dialoguising, tis to be observ'd, your sentences, must ironically, metaphorically, and altogether figuratively, [be] mixt with your morning oathes.
Scil. Faith, tis verie true.
Accu. That he neither knowes what he saies nor thou understandest.
Serv. As for example, by this illuminate welkin.
Scil. Oh excellent! it shall be downe to.
Accut. There's another Ducket. He utters his oathes apace.
Sure this Villaine has no soule, and for gold
Heele damn his body too, hee's at peace with hell
And brings his Merchandise from thence to sell.
Boy. I have heere two Mistresses, but if the best were chosen out, if Poliphemus tother eye were out his choice might be as good as Argus broade waking, so difficult is the difference.
Phy. Boy, sleepe wayward thoughts?
Boy. Sir.
Phy. Is it not now most amyable and faire?
Boy. Yes sir, God be praised.
Phy. What meanst thou, Boy?
Boy. The weather, sir.
Phy. I meane my haire and face, Boy.
Boy. Twere amiable if it would not alter.
Phy. Wherfore I often repaire it.
Boy. Me thinkes that should weare it the sooner.
Phy. Not so Boy, for to trimme the Hayer well is a rare qualitie; to bee rarelye quallified is to be wise; apply, Boy.
Boy. That you are wise in trimming your hayre, Maister?
Phy. Right, to be wise is to be rare, for it is rare to see a wise man.
Boy. True, Maister, but if youle see a foole, looke in your Glasse, maister!
Phy. Goe to, I must correct you, Boy.
Boy. You can correct no more then is your own; I am but halfe yours to commaund, if you steale away any parte that is not your owne you are so farre in daunger as the striking of an other mans servant.
Scil.[234] By this illuminate welkin! most sincere and singular: as a small remembrance.
Serv. Not for to winne the faire Angelica.
Scillicet. By this illuminate Welkin ye shall now.[235] Sir, I doe not bestowe it, for that I thinke you have neede of it; for if you had, by this bright Horizon, I would not give it, for I know tis no credit to give to the poore. By this illuminate welkin I have (since I tooke upon me this fleshie desire of a Gentleman) throwne out of a window, for a hunts-up, when I had as leef have heard the grinding of a Mustard-Mill; for those are thinges are heere too day, and gone to morrowe; this will sticke by a man, and doe him credit where ere hee goes.
Acut. I, when the foole is clad in clay, It will sticke sore unto thy soule for aye.
Phy. Signior Scillicet, I assure you I have discovered the most queint and new-found device for the encounter of the Ladies at the interview; tis in pricke-song.
Scil. That's excellent and rare.
Phi. I, for prick-song to Ladies is most pleasant and delightfull: as thus for your congie, All hayle to my belooved; then for your departure, sad dispaire doth drive me hence: for all must be to effect.
Grac. Nay, prethee raise no quarrels.
Acut. I can holde no longer: heare you, sir, are not you a foole? and you an Asse? and you a knave?
Phy. Zoundes! an Asse?
Scil. A Foole?
Ser. A Knave, without respect?
Acut. I, for an Asse can beare, a Foole abide, and a Knave deserve.
Omn. Helpe, Helpe!
Gra. Prethee let's away.
Acut. Fooles often brings wise men to trouble, Farewell, another time ile pay ye double. [Exit.
Enter Host, Hostesse, and Prentises.
Host. Bring your Clubs out of doores. There goe in, my fine hostes, Ile talke to the proudest; what, knaves are i'th streete, my dore is my dore, my house is my castell, goe in dame Helena, let thine Host alon with this; he that knocks at my hobby, while I have Ale in my house, shall pay for a Surgeon: the honest shall come in, the knaves shall go by; bring Clubs, I say.
Scil. Nay, sir, the heate is past, they that did it have tooke them to their heeles, for indeed heere are of us—
Host. Away with your Clubs then; welcome, my brave Bullies, my Guests shall take no wrong; but welcome, my Bullies.
Scil. Indeede sir, I am a man of few words, I have put up a little bloodshed; marrie, I hope it shall be no stain to my manhoode, if I keepe it out of my clothes.
Host. He shall pay for the blood-shed, my guestes shall take no wrong; mine Host will spend his Cruse as franke as an Emperor; welcome, my brave bullies.
Ser. Sir, be pacificall, the fellowe was possest with some critique frenzie, and wee impute it to his madnes.
Scil. Madde! by Gods slid, if he were as madde as a weaver, I can hardly put it up; for my blow, I care not so much, but he cald me foole; slid, if I live till I dye, the one of us shall prove it.
Host. Some prophane Villaine, ile warrant him.
Scil. Doe you thinke I may not have an action against him?
Host. There's so many swaggerers; but alasse, how fel ye out?
Scil. By the welkin, I gave him not a foule word; first he calles me foole, then he makes a full blowe at my body, and if, by good chance, I had not warded it with my head, he might have spoild me.
Enter Prentices.
Host. There, there my fine fil-pots; give the word as you passe; anon, anon, sir anon; heere and there in the twinckling, looke well at the barre, there again my little Mercuries, froath them up to the brimme, and fill as tis needeful; if their Pates be full of Wine let your Pottles be three quarters; trip and goe, here and there; now, my brave Lad, wash thy woundes with good Wine; bidde am welcom, my little Sybil; put sugar in his hole there, I must in to my guests; sleepe soundly till morning; Canarie is a Jewell, and a Figge for Browne-bastard.[236] [Exit.
Hostes. Gentlemen, ye are welcom, though my husband be a little talkative, yet truly he is an unreasonable honest man, yee shall finde his words and his sayings all one.
Scil. I thinke no less, yet I would desire to enter as time and place shall serve.
Hostes. Ile lead the way forsooth.
Phy. Nay, pray ye, Hostesse, a word. I say little, but i'me sure I have sustained the most wrong; by this light, I had rather he had broke my head in three places; I pray you lend me a brush, hee has put my hat quite out of fashion.
Host. That shall ye sir, a brush there, hoe!
Enter[237] Boss, with the dog.
Bos. Salve, sis salvus. I pray yee which of you five is Hostis of this house?
Boy. That's easily discernd, for foure weare breeches.
Bos. Nere the sooner for that, my diminitive youth, for women now adaies weare breeches as well as men; mary, the difference lies in the bawble.
Hostis. Well, sir, to open the truth, I am the Hostesse.
Bos. The fruit is known, by the Tree at the first view, as the Author writes, learnedly; come basilus manus.[238]
Scil. This kissing becomes a Gentleman, ile use it sure.[239]
Bos. Secondly, Mistris Hostesse, I would know what lodging ye have for my Lady and her traine.
Hostis. What will serve your turne, sir?
Bos. Ile call my selfe to account and specifie thus: my Lady and her Dogge, that's two visible; then there's the Dogge and my Lady, thats four invisible; then there's my Ladies dogge and I, quoth the dogge, that's six; then theres sequence of three, viz., the Dogge, and I, and my Lady; then there's a pair of Knaves, viz., the Dogge & my selfe & my Lady turnd up; viz., my Lady sequence of three, a paire of Knaves and my Lady, turn'd up to play upon:—we can have no less than five beds.
Hostis. Truely you must lye close together (the Servants I meane), for I am so thrust with Guest I [c]an hardly spare so many.
Bos. Faith, weele lie together as close as we can; there's my Lady and her dogge lye al together and I at the bed's feete, and theres all our family of Love.[240]
Hostis. How farre is your mistris behinde?
Bos. The truth is the fatall sisters have cut the thred of her Cork-shoe, & shee's stept aside in to a Coblers shop to take a true stitch, whether I mean to send myself as a Court of Guard to conduct her, but see, oh inconstant fortune! see where she comes, solus.
Enter[241] Getica.
Gent. Bos, you serve me well, to let me wait upon my selfe.
Bos. Of two evils, the least is to be chosen, I had a care of your puppie being less then your selfe.
Scil. Gentlewoman, you have an excellent Ch: [sic] I have an appetite as a man would say.
Gent. Whats your will, sir?
Scil. Truth will to light, and the truth is I have an appetite to kisse you.
Phil. This point would become a Gentleman, sure; I pray, who trim'd it so?
Gent. My man, forsooth.
Phy. Sir, I desire your acquaintance; tis excellent, rare.
Gent. You would have said so, had you seene it an houre since.
Ser. Heeres game for me! I hunt for fooles and have sprung a covey.
Hostis. Gentles, please you, draw neere? lead the way into the chambers.
Bos. Bos is the name of a thing may be seene, felt, heard, or understood, and the nominative case goes before my Mistris the Verbe; my mistris requires an accusative case to follow, as usus feminae proptus facit. [Exeunt al but Hostis.
Hostis. Oh fye upont, who would be an hostis, & could do otherwise? [A] Ladie [h]as the most lascivious life, conges and kisses, the tyre, the hood, the rebato, the loose bodyed Gowne, the pin in the haire, and everie day change, when an Hostis must come and go at everye mans pleasure. And what's a Lady more then another body? Wee have legs, and hands, rowling eyes and hanging lips, sleek browes, and cherie cheeks & other things as Ladies have, but the fashion carries it away.
Prentices passe over. [Re-enter[242] Host.]
Host. There, there, my little Lacky boies, againe, again, my fine fil-pots! where is my fine Hostis? come, come, my little Dido, set your corks on a creaking, my knaves are unthrifty; dance not your Canaries heere up & down, looke about to my Guests I say.
Hostis. I, I have much joy, an Hostesse!
Host. What, abides my Penelope? heere stand thy Ulisses, ile tarry with thee still, thou shall want for no cost. Ile buy thee a brave wistle; looke about to my Guestes, I say.
Hostis. I, Hostesses will bee knowne shortelye as their Signes; still in one weather-beaten suite, as though none weare hoodes but Monkes and Ladies, and feathers but fore-horses and Waiting Gentlewomen, or chaines but prisoners and Courtiers; no Perywigges but Players and Pictures: but the weakest must to the wall still.
Host. Tush, tush, these are toies; ile none of these Flipflaps, ile have no soping, no puffs, nor no Cobwebs, no busks, nor bumbarrels;[243] thou shalt weare thine own haire & fine cloath of Sheep-skins, thy colour shall be Dowlas as white as a Lillie, ile kisse these chop-cheries; thou shalt goe Gossip at Shrovetide; look about to my Guests then. [Exit.
Hostis. I, twas my hard fortune to be an Hostesse; time was I might have done other wise.
Enter Cittizens Wife.
City W. Why how now, woman, a'th olde disease still? will it never be better? cannot a Woman finde one kinde man amongst twentie? Ah the daies I have seen, when a Womans will was a lawe: If I had a mind to such a thing, or such a thing, I could have had it, but twa's never better since men were Purse-bearers.
Hosty. Mine is een the unnaturallist man to his Wife.
Citie wi. Truely, and commonly are all such fat men: ile tell thee, Gossip, I have buried sixe, I, sixe husbands, but if I should live to have as many more, as I know not what may happen, but sure Ide never have such a fatte man: they be the most unweldey men; that woman[244] shall not want a sore stomack, that's troubled with them I warrant her.
Hosty. And hee maintaines me heare like I knowe not what.
City wi. I, and what say, they are their wives head; well if he be the head, shee's the body, and the body is to beare the head, and the body is to beare the pursse.
Hostis. They cannot misse us, yet they regard us not.
Citty wife. Misse us! no faith, but would all women were of my minde, they call us weaker vessels, they should finde vessels of us, but no weake vessels, I warrant them.
Enter[245] Prentice.
Pren. Mistris, my Maister cals for ye.
Hostis. Goe, ile come anon, hees not so hastie to give me what I want, I warrant ye.
[Exit[245] Prentice.
City w. No, would he were; little thinkes the husband what goes through the wives hand, washing, wringing, and rubbing, up early, down late, & a thousand things they looke not too.
Hostis. And yet they must have the government of all.
City w. And great reason they have for it, but a wise man will put in a Woman's hand: what sheele save that hee spends.
Hostis. You have a pretty Ruffe, how deepe is it?
City w. Nay, this is but shallowe, marrie I have a Ruffe is a quarter deepe, measured by the yard.
Hostis. Indeede, by the yard.
City w. By the standard: you have a pretty set too, how big is the steele you set it with?
Hostis. As bigge as a reasonable sufficient—
Enter Prentice.
Pren. Mistris, my Maister would desire you to come in.
Citty w. What? she shall not come yet: if you lay down the bucklers, you lose the victorie.
Hostis. By my troth, I must goe, we shall have such a coyle else.
Cittie w. A coyle! why, have you not a tongue in your head? faith if ye win not all at that weapon, yee are not worthy to be a woman. You heare not the news abroade?
Hostis. No: what newes?
City W. No, I warrant ye, you never come abroad; this is to be troubled with a fatte man, he never comes abroad himself nor suffers his wife out of his sight: yee shall ever have a fatte Host either on his bench at the dore or in his chair at the chimney; & there he spits and spaules a roome like twentie Tobacco-takers. Oh! fye on them, beasts!
Hostis. I prethee, what newes?
Citty w. Oh! woman, the most hardfavoured newes, and without all conscience: they say theres a statute made, any woman that buries her husband is not to marrie againe of two monthes after.
Hostis. A tedious time, by Lady; a month were enough.
Cittie w. I, halfe a month; winter nights are long and colde. Ile tell ye, I have buried sixe, and thank my good fortune I ever knewe the next ere the other was in his winding sheete.
Pre. Mistris, my maister is angrie, and the Guests cal for their Hostesse.
Hostis. Goe, I come: Gossip, when shall I see you agen?
Citty w. Nay, when shall I see you abroad? sildome, i'me sure.
Hostis. I must needes away; God buy you, Gossip.
Cittie w. God buy ye; Gods so, I have forgot wherefore I came: a word ere you goe, the party yee wott on commends him unto ye, he that met the other party in the white felt, the yellow scarf, and the round Venetian,[246] when the other party kis't you, and I broake the jest on him, when hee said kisses kindeles Coules and love searches.
Hostis. Oh! I remember him, yes faith, hee's prettie well set; hee ha's the right trick with the tongue in his kisse, and hee dances reasonably comely, but he fals heavie.
Citty w. He savours of a kinde of Gallant, but not of a Courtyer.
Hostis. Well weele have a night out, god be with ye, Gossip.
Cittie wife. God buy ye.
[Exeunt.