ACT II., SCENE 1.
Enter Seldom [and] his wife Grace, working as in their shop.
Grace. Husband, these gloves are not fit for my wearing; I'll put 'em into the shop, and sell 'em: you shall give me a plain pair for them.
Sel. This is wonderful, wonderful! this is thy sweet care and judgment in all things: this goodness is not usual in our wives. Well, Grace Seldom, that thou art fair is nothing, that thou art well-spoken is nothing, that thou art witty is nothing, that thou art a citizen's wife is nothing; but, Grace, that thou art fair, that thou art well-spoken, that thou art witty, that thou art a citizen's wife, and that thou art honest, I say—and let any man deny it that can, it is something, it is something; I say, it is Seldom's something, and for all the sunshine of my joy, mine eyes must rain upon thee.
Enter Moll Cutpurse, with a letter.
Moll. By your leave, Master Seldom, have you done the hangers I bespake for the knight?
Sel. Yes, marry have I, Mistress hic and hæc;[88] I'll fetch 'em to you.
[Exit.
Moll. Zounds! does not your husband know my name? if it had been somebody else, I would have called him cuckoldy slave.
Grace. If it had been somebody else, perhaps you might.
Moll. Well, I may be even with him; all's clear. Pretty rogue, I have longed to know thee this twelve months, and had no other means but this to speak with thee. There's a letter to thee from the party.
Grace. What party?
Moll. The knight, Sir John Love-all.
Grace. Hence, lewd impudent!
I know not what to term thee, man or woman,
For, Nature, shaming to acknowledge thee
For either, hath produc'd thee to the world
Without a sex: some say thou art a woman,
Others a man: and many, thou art both
Woman and man, but I think rather neither,
Or man and horse, as the old centaurs were feign'd.
Moll. Why, how now, Mistress What-lack-ye? are you so fine, with a pox? I have seen a woman look as modestly as you, and speak as sincerely, and follow the friars as zealously,[88] and she has been as sound a jumbler as e'er paid for't: 'tis true, Mistress Fi'penny, I have sworn to leave this letter.
Grace. D'ye hear, you Sword-and-target (to speak in your own key), Mary Ambree, Long Meg.[89]
Thou that in thyself, methinks, alone
Look'st like a rogue and whore under a hedge;
Bawd, take your letter with you, and begone,
When next you come, my husband's constable,
And Bridewell is hard by: you've a good wit,
And can conceive——
Enter Seldom, with hangers.
Sel. Look you, here are the hangers.
Moll. Let's see them.
Fie, fie! you have mistook me quite,
[Exit.
Enter Lord Proudly.
Grace. Here's my Lord Proudly.
Proudly. My horse, lackey! is my sister Honour above?
Sel. I think her ladyship, my lord, is not well, and keeps her chamber.
Proudly. All's one, I must see her: have the other ladies dined?
Grace. I think not, my lord.
Proudly. Then I'll take a pipe of tobacco here in your shop, if it be not offensive. I would be loth to be thought to come just at dinner-time. [To his servant] Garçon! fill, sirrah.
Enter Page, with a pipe of tobacco.
What said the goldsmith for the money?
[Seldom, having fetched a candle, walks off at the other end of the shop. Lord Proudly sits by his wife.
Page. He said, my lord, he would lend no man money that he durst not arrest.
Proudly. How got that wit into Cheapside, trow? He is a cuckold. Saw you my lady to-day? What says she?
[Takes tobacco.
Page. Marry, my lord, she said her old husband had a great payment to make this morning, and had not left her so much as a jewel.
Proudly. A pox of her old cat's chaps! The teeth she had
Have made a transmigration into hair:
She hath a bigger beard than I, by this light.
[Lord whispers to Grace.
Sel. This custom in us citizens is good:
Thus walking off, when men talk with our wives;
It shows us courteous and mannerly.
Some count it baseness; he's a fool that does so.
It is the highest point of policy,
Especially when we have virtuous wives.
Grace. Fie, fie! you talk uncivilly, my lord.
Proudly. Uncivilly, mew! Can a lord talk uncivilly? I think you, a finical taffata pipkin, may be proud I'll sit so near it. Uncivilly, mew!
Grace. Your mother's cat has kittened in your mouth, sure.
Proudly. Prythee, but note yon fellow. Does he not walk and look as if he did desire to be a cuckold?
Grace. But you do not look as if you could make him one. Now they have dined, my lord.
Enter Lord Feesimple and Welltried.
Fee. God save your lordship.
Proudly. How dost thou, coz? Hast thou got any more wit yet?
Fee. No, by my troth, I have
But little money with that little wit I have,
And the more wit ever the less money;
Yet as little as I have of either,
I would give something that I durst but quarrel:
I would not be abus'd thus daily as I am.
Well. Save you, my lord.
Proudly. Good Master Welltried, you can inform me: pray, how ended the quarrel betwixt young Bold and the other gentleman?
Well. Why, very fairly, my lord; on honourable terms. Young Bold was injured and did challenge him, fought in the field, and the other gave him satisfaction under his hand. I was Bold's second, and can show it here.
Proudly. 'Tis strange there was no hurt done, yet I hold
The other gentleman far the better man.
Well. So do not I.
Proudly. Besides, they say the satisfaction that walks in the ordinaries is counterfeit.
Well. He lies that say so, and I'll make it good.
And for I know my friend is out of town,
What man soever wrongs him is my foe.
I say he had full satisfaction,
Nay, that which we may call submission;
That the other sought peace first; and who denies this,
Lord, knight or gentleman: English, French or Scot,
I'll fight and prove it on him with my sword.
Fee. No, sweet Master Welltried, let's have no fighting, till (as you have promised) you have rid me from this foolish fear, and taught me to endure to look upon a naked sword.
Well. Well, and I'll be as good as my word.
Fee. But do you hear, cousin Proudly? They say my old father must marry your sister Honour, and that he will disinherit me, and entail all his lordships on her and the heir he shall beget on her body. Is't true or not?
Proudly. There is such a report.
Fee. Why, then I pray God he may die an old cuckoldy slave.
O world, what art thou? where is parent's love?
Can he deny me for his natural child?
Yet see (O fornicator!) old and stiff,
Not where he should be, that's my comfort yet.
As for you, my lord, I will send to you as soon as
I dare fight, and look upon steel; which, Master
Welltried (I pray) let be with all possible speed.
Proudly. What d'ye this afternoon?
Fee. Faith, I have a great mind to see Long Meg and the Ship at the Fortune.[90]
Proudly. Nay, i' faith, let's up and have a rest at primero.
Well. Agreed, my lord; and toward the evening I'll carry you to the company.
Fee. Well, no more words.
[Exeunt Lord Proudly, Lord Feesimple, and Welltried.[91]
Grace. I wonder, sir, you will walk so, and let anybody sit prating to your wife. Were I a man, I'd thrust 'em out o' th' shop by the head and shoulders.
Sel. There were no policy in that, wife; so should I lose my custom. Let them talk themselves weary, and give thee love-tokens—still I lose not by it.
Thy chastity's impregnable, I know it.
Had I a dame, whose eyes did swallow youth,
Whose unchaste gulf together did take in
Masters and men, the footboys and their lords,
Making a gallimaufry in her blood,
I would not walk thus then: but, virtuous wife,
He that in chaste ears pours his ribald talk
Begets hate to himself, and not consent;
And even as dirt, thrown hard against a wall,
Rebounds and sparkles in the thrower's eyes,
So ill words, utter'd to a virtuous dame,
Turn and defile the speaker with red shame.
[Exeunt.