12-20-04 Benjamin Griffin MURP 22448 99852586 17913

THE LADY OF PLEASVRE.

A COMEDIE, As it vvas Acted by her Ma¦jesties Servants, at the private House in Drury Lane.

Written by James Shirly.

LONDON, Printed by Tho. Cotes, for Andrew Crooke, and William Cooke. 1637.

Persons of the Comedy. LOrd, Sir Thomas Bornewell. Sir William Sentlove. Mr. Alex. Kickshaw. Mr. Iohn Littleworth. Mr. Hairecut. Mr. Fredericke. Steward to the Lady Aretina. Steward to the Lady Celestina. Secretary. Servants, &c. Aretina, Sir Thomas Bornwells Lady. Celestina, a young Widow. Isabella. Mariana. Madam Decoy.

Scene the Strand.

TO THE RIGHT HONO∣RABLE RICHARD LORD LOVELACE of Hurley. My Lord,

I Cannot want encouragement to present a Poeme to your Lordship, while you possesse so noble a breast, in which so many seedes of honour, to the example and glory of your Name obtain'd, before your yeares a happy maturity. This Comedy fortunate in the Scene, and one that may challenge a place in the first forme of the Authors compositions, most humbly addresseth it selfe to your honour, if it meete your gracious acceptance, and that you repent not to be a Patron, your Lordshipps will onely crownes the ima∣gination, and for ever by this favour oblige,

My Lord The most humble Services of your Honourer, IAMES SHIRLY. The Lady of Pleasure. The first Act. Enter Aretina and her Steward. STew. Be patient Madam, you may have your pleasure. Are. Tis that I came to towne for, I wo'd not Endure againe the countrey conversation, To be the Lady of sixe shires! the men So neare the Primitive making, they retaine A sence of nothing but the earth, their braines And barren heads standing as much in want Of plowing as their ground, to heare a fellow Make himselfe merry and his horse with whisteling Sellingers round, to observe with what solemnitie They keepe their Wakes, and throw for pewter Candlestickes, How they become the Morris, whi whose bells They ring all into Whitson Ales, and sweate, Through twenty Scarffes and Napkins, till the Hobbyhorse Tire, and the maide Marrian dissolv'd to a gelly, Be kept for spoone meate. Ste. These with your pardon are no Argument To make the country life appeare so hatefull, At least to your particular, who enjoy'd A blessing in that calme; would you be pleasd To thinke so, and the pleasure of a kingdome, While your owne will commanded what should move Delights, your husbands love and power joyned To give your life more harmony▪ you liv'd there, Secure, and innocent, beloved of all, Praisd for your hospitality, and praid for▪ You might be envied, but malice knew Not where you dwelt, I wo'd not prophecy But leave to your owne apprehension What may succeede your change. Are. You doe imagine, No doubt, you have talk'd wisely, and confuted, London past all defence, your Master should Doe well to send you backe into the countrie, With title of Supernitendent Baylie. Ste. How Madam. Are. Even so sir. Ste. I am a Gentleman though now your servant. Are. A country gentleman, By your affection to converse with stable, His tenants will advance you wit, and plumpe it so With beefe and bag-pudding. Ste. You may say your pleasure, It becomes not me dispute. Are. Complaine to the Lord of the soyle your master. Ste. Y'are a woman of an ungovern'd passion, and I pitty you. Enter Sir Thomas Bornwell. Bor. How how? Whats the matter? Ste. Nothing Sir. Bor. Angry sweete heart? Are. I am angry with my selfe, To be so miserably restrained in things, Wherein it doth concerne your love and honour To see me satisfied. Bor. In what Aretina? Dost thou accuse me? have I not obeyd All thy desires, against mine owne opinion, Quitted the countrie, and removed the hope Of our returne, by sale of that faire Lordship We liv'd in, chang'd a calme and retire life For this wild towne, composd of noise and charge. Are. What charge more than is necessarie, For a Lady of my birth and education▪ Bor. I am not ignorant, how much Nobilitie Flowes in your bloud, your kinsmen great and powerfull, It▪h State, but with this lose not your memory Of being my wife, I shall be studious Madam to give the dignitie of your birth All the best ornaments which become my fortune But would not flatter it, to ruine both, And be the fable of the towne, to teach Other men losse of wit by mine, emploid To serve your vaste expences. Are. Am I then Brought in the ballance? so Sir. Bo. Though you weigh Me in a partiall scale my heart is honest, And must take libertie to thinke you have Obeyed no modest counsell to effect, Nay study wayes of pride and costly ceremony, Your change of gaudy furniture and pictures Of this Italian Master, and that Dutchmnas, Your mighty looking-glasses like Artillery; Brought whom on Engins, the superfluous plate, Anticke and novell, vanities of tires, Fourescore pound suppers for my Lord your kinsman, Banquets for tother Lady, aunt, and cozens, And perfumes that exceede all traine of servants, To stifle us at home and shew abroad More motley than the French, or the Venetian▪ About your Coach whose rude Postillion Must pester every narrow lane, till passengers And tradsmen curse your choaking up their stalls; And common cries pursue your Ladiship, For hindring o'their market. Are. Have you done sir. Bor. I could accuse the gayetie of your wardrobe, And prodigall embroderies under which Rich Sattens, Plushes, cloath of Silver, dare Not shew their owne complexions, your jewells Able to burne out the Spectators eyes, And shew like Bonefires on you by the tapers, Something might here be spar'd, which safely of Your birth and honour, since the truest wealth, Shines from the soule, and drawes up just admirers, I could urge something more: Are. Pray doe I like Your homilie of thrifte. Bo. I could wish Madam You would not game so much. Are. A gamster too? Bor. But are not come to that repentance yet, Should teach you skill enough to raise your profit, You looke not through the subtiltie of Cards, And mysteries of Dice, nor can you save Charge with the boxe, buy petticotes and purles, And keepe your familie by the precious income, Nor doe I wish you should, my poorest servant Shall not upbraid my tables, nor his hire Purchasd beneath my honour, you make play Not a Pastime but a tyrannie, and vexe Your selfe and my estate by't. Are. Good, proceed. Bor. Another game you have, which consumes more Your fame than purse, you revells in the night, Your meetings cal'd the Ball, to which appeare, As to the Court of Pleasure, all your gallants, And Ladies thither bound by a Subpena Of Venus, and small Cupids high displeasure, Tis but the family of love translated Into more costly sinne, there was a play on't, And had the Poet not beene brib'd to a modest Expression of your Anticke gambolls, in't, Some darkes had beene discovered, and the deeds too, In time he may repent and make some blush. To see the second part danc'd on the Stage; My thoughts acquit you for dishonouring me By any foule act, but the vertuous know, Tis not enough to cleare our selves, but the Suspitions of our shame. Are. Have you concluded Your lecture? Bor. I ha done, and howsoever My language my appeare to you, it carries No other than my faire and just intent To your delights without curbe to their modest, And noble freedome. Are. Ile not be so tedious, In my reply, but without arte or elegance, Assure you I keepe still my first opinion, And though you vay'le, your avatitious meaning With hansome names of modesty, and thrift, I finde you would intrench and wound the liberty I was borne with, were my desires unpriviledged By example, while my judgement thought 'em fit, You ought not to oppose, but when the practise And tract of every honourable Lady, Authorise me, I take it great injustice, To have my pleasures circumscribed, and taught me, A narrow minded husband is a theefe To his owne fame, and his preferment too, He shuts his parts and fortunes from the world, While from the popular vote and knowledge men Rise to imployment in the state. Bor. I have No great ambition to buy preferment At so deare rate. Are. Nor I to sell my honour, By living poore and sparingly, I was not Bred in that ebbe of fortune, and my fate Shall not compell me too't. Bor. I know not Madam, But you pursue these wayes. Are. What wayes? Bor. In the strict sence of honestie I dare Make oath, they are Innocent. Are. Do not divert, By busie troubling of your braine, those thoughts That should preserve em. Bor. How was that? Are. Tis English. Bor. But carries some unkinde sence. Enter Madam Decoy. De. Good morrow my sweete Madam. Are. Decoy welcome, this visite is a favour. De. Alas sweet Madam, I cannot stay, I came But to present my service to your Ladiship; I could not passe by your doore, but I must take The boldnesse to tender my respects. Are. You oblige me Madam, but I must Not dispence so with your absence. De. Alas, the Coach Madam stayes for me at the doore. Are. Thou sha't command mine, prethee sweete Decoy. De. I wou'd waite on you Madam, but I have many Visits to make this morning I beseech. Are. So you will promise to dine with me. De. I shall Present a guest. Are. Why then good morrow Madam. De. A happy day shine on your Ladiship. Exit. Enter Steward. Are. Whats your newes sir? St. Madam two gentlemen. Are. What gentlemen? Have they no names. St. They are The gentleman with his owne head of haire, Whom you commended for his horsemanship In Hide Parke, and becomming the saddle The tother day. Are. What circumstance is this, To know him by. St. His names at my tongues end, He lik'd the fashion of your pearle chaine Madam, And borrowed it for his Jeweller to take A coppie by it. Bor. What cheating gallants this? St. That never walkes without a Ladies buske, And playes with fannes Mr. Alexander Kickshaw, I thought I should remember him. Are. Whats the other? St. What an unluckie memorie I have? The gallant that still danceth in the streete, And weares a grosse of Ribbon in his hat, That carries Oringado in his pocket, And Suger-plumbs to sweeten his discourse, That studies complement, defies all wit On blacke, and censures playes that are not bawdy, Mr. Iohn littleworth. Are. They are welcome, but Pray entertaine them a small time, lest I Be unprovided. Bor. Did they aske for me? Ste. No sir. Bor. It matters not, they must be welcome. Are. Fie, how's this haire disordered? here's a curle, Straddle most impiously, I must to my closet. Exit. Bor. Waite on em: my Lady will returne agen, I have to such a height fulfill d her humor, All applications dangerous, these gallants Must be received or shee will fall into A tempest, and the house be shooke with names Of all her kindred, tis a servitude, I may in time shake off. Enter Alexander and Littleworth. Al. Lit. Save you Sir Thomas. Bor. Save you gentlemen. Al. I kisse your hand. Bor. What day is it abroad? Lit. The morning rises from your Ladies eye, If she looke cleare, we take the happy omen Of a faire day. Bo. Sheele instantly appeare, To the discredit of your complement, But you expresse your wit thus. Al. And you modestie, Not to affect the praises of your owne. Bor. Leaving this subject, what games now on foote▪ What exercise carries the generall vote? Oth towne now nothing moves without your knowledge, Al. The cocking now has all the noise, Ile have A hundred peeces of one battle, Oh, These birds of Mars! Lit. Venus is Mars his bird too. Al. Why and the pretty Doves are Venusses, To show that kisses draw the Charriot. Lit. I am for that skirmish. Bor. When shall wee have More Booths and Bag-pipes upon Bansted downes, No mighty race is expected, but my Lady returnes. Enter Aretina. Are. Faire morning to you gentlemen, You went not late to bed by your early visit, You doe me honour. Al. It becomes our service. Are. What newes abroade? you hold precious intelligence. Lit. All tongues are so much busie with your praise, They have not time to frame other discourse, Will please you Madam? tast a Sugerplum. Bor. What do's the Goldsmith thinke the Pearle is worth. You borrowed of my Lady? Al. Tis a rich one. Bor. She has many other toyes whose fashion you, Will like extremely, you have no intention To buy any of her Iewels. Al. Vnderstand me. Bor. You had rather sell perhaps, but leaving this, I hope you'le dine with us. Al. I came a purpose. Are. And where were you last night? Al. I Madam? where I slept not, it had beene sin where so much Delight and beauty was to keepe me waking, There is a Lady Madam will be worth Your free societie, my conversation Nere knew so elegant and brave a soule, With most incomparable flesh and bloud, So spirited, so Courtly speakes the Languages, Sings, Dances, playes o'th Lute to admiration, Is faire and paints not, games too, keepes a table, And talkes most witty Satyre, has a wit Of a cleane Mercury. Lit. Is shee married? Al. No. Are. A Virgin? Al. Neither. Lit. What a widow? some∣thing. Of this wide commendation might have beene Excusd, this such a prodigie? Al. Repent Before I name her, shee did never see Yet full sixteene, an age in the opinion Of wise men not contemptible, she ha's Mourned out her yeare too for the honest Knight That had compassion of her youth, and dy'd So timely, such a widow is not common, And now she shines more fresh and tempting Then any naturall Virgin. Are. Whats her name? Al. Shee was Christened Celestina, by her husband The Lady Bellamour, this Ring was hers. Bor. You borrowed it to coppie out the Posie. Al. Are they not pretty Rubies? twas a grace She was pleasd to shew me, that I might have one Made of the same fashion, for I love All prettie formes. Are. And is she glorious? Al. She is full of Jewels Madam, but I am Most taken with the bravery of her minde, Although her garments have all grace and ornament. Are. You haue beene high in praises. Al. I come short, No flattery can reach her. Bor. Now my Lady Is troubled as she feared to be eclipsd, This newes will cost me somewhat. Are. You deserve Her favour for this noble character. Al. And I possesse it by my starres benevolence. Are. You must bring us acquainted. Bo. I pray doe sir. I long to see her too, Madam I have Thought upon't and corrected my opinion, Pursue what wayes of pleasure your desires Incline you too, not onely with my state, But with my person I will follow you, I see the folly of my thrift, and will Repent in Sacke and prodigalitie To your owne hearts content. Are. But doe not mocke. Bor. Take me to your imbraces gentlemen And tutor me. Lit. And will you kisse the Ladies? Bor. And sing and dance, I long to see this beauty, I wood faine lose a hundred pounds at dice now, Thou sha't have another gowne and petticote, To morrow will you sell my running horses? We have no Greeke wine in the house I thinke, Pray send one of our footemen to the Merchant, And throw the hogsheads of March-beare into The kenell, to make roome for Sackes and Clarret, What thinke you to be drunke yet before dinner? We will have constant musicke and maintaine Them and their Fidles in phantasticke liveries, Ile tune my voyce to catches, I must have My dyning roome enlarg'd to invite Embassadors, Weele feast the parish in the fields, and teach The Military men new discipline, Who shall charge all their new Artillerie With Oringes and Lemonds, boy to play All dinner upon our capons. Al. Hee's exalted. Bor. I will doe any thing to please my Lady, Let that suffice and kisse oth same condition, I am converted, doe not you dispute But patiently allow the miracle. Enter Servant. Are. I am glad to heare you sir in so good tune. Ser. Madam the Painter. Are. I am to sit this morning. Bor. Doe, while I give new directions to my Steward. Al. With your favour we'le waite on you, sitting's but A melancholy exercise without Some company to discourse▪ Are. It does conclude A Ladies morning worke, we rise, make fine, Sit for our Picture, and tis time to dine. Lit. Praying's forgot. Al. Tis out of fashion. Exeunt. Enter Celestina and her Steward. Cel. Fie, what an aire this roome has. St. Tis persum'd. Cel. With some cheape sluffe is it your wisedomes thrift To infect my nostrils thus? Or i'st to favour The Gout in your worships hand? You are afraid To exercise your pen in your account Booke? Or doe you doubt my credit to discharge Your bills. St. Madam, I hope you have not found My dutie with the guilt of sloath or jealousie, Vnapt to your command. Cel. You can extenuate Your faults with language sir, but I expect To be obeyed; What hangings have we here? St. They are Arras Madam. Cel. Impudence I know't, I will have fresher and more rich, not wrought With faces that may scandalise a Christian With Iewish stories stufft with Corne and Camells, You had best wrap all my chambers in wild Irish, And make a nursery of Monsters here, To fright the Ladies comes to visite me. St. Madam I hope. Cel. I say I will have other, Good Master Steward of a finer loome, Some silke and silver if your worship please, To let me be at so much cost Ile have Stories to sit the seasons of the yeare, And change as often as I please. St. You shall Madam. Cel. I am bound to your consent forsooth, and is My coach brought home? St. This morning I expect it. Cel. The inside as I gave direction, Of crimson plush. St. Of crimson Camell plush. Cel. Ten thousand mothes consum't, shall I ride through The streets in penance wrapt up round in haire cloath, Sel't to an Alderman, twill serve his wife To goe a feasting to their country house, Or fetch a Merchants Nurse child, and come home Laden with fruite and Cheese cakes; I despise it. St. The nailes adorne it Madam, set in method And pretty formes. Cel. But single guilt I warrant. St. No Madam: Cel. Another Solecisme, oh fie, This fellow will bring me to a Consumption With fretting at his ignorance, some Lady Had rather never pray, than goe to Church in't; The nailes not double guilt? to market wo't, Twill hackny out to Mile-end, or convey Your citie tumblers to be drunke with Creame And Prunes at Islington. St. Good Madam heare me. Cel. Ile rather be beholding to my Aunt The Countesse for her mourning coach, then be Disparag'd so, shall any juggling tradsman Be at charge to shooe his running horse with gold, And shall my coach nailes be but single guilt? How dare these knaves abuse me so? St. Vouchsafe To heare me speake. Cel. Is my Sedan yet finish'd? And liveries for my men-Mules according As I gave charge. St. Yes Madam it is finish'd, But without tilting plumes at the foure corners, The scarlet's pure, but not embroidered. Cel. What mischiefe were it to your conscience Were my coach lin'd with tissue, and my harnesse Cover'd with needleworke? if my Sedan Had all the story of the Prodigall, Embrodered with pearle. St. Alas good Madam, I know tis your owne cost, I am but your Steward, And wod discharge my duty the best way, You have beene pleasd to heare me, tis not for My profit, that I manage your estate, And save expence, but for your honour Madam. Cel. How sir, my honour? St. Though you heare it not Mens tongues are liberall in your character, Since you began to live thus high, I know Your fame is precious to you. Cel. I were best Make you my governor; audacious Varlet, How dare you interpose your doting counsell? Mind your affaires with more obedience, Or I shall ease you of an office sir, Must I be limited to please your honour? Or for the vulgar breath confine my pleasures, I will pursue'em in what shapes I fancie, Here, and abroad, my entertainements shall Be oftner, and more rich, who shall controule me? I live i'th strand, whether few Ladies come To live, and purchase, more than fame, I will Be hospitable then, and spare no cost That may engage all generous report To trumpet forth my bounty and my braverie, Till the Court envie, and remove, Ile have My house the Academy of wits, who shall Exalt with rich Sacke, and Sturgeon, Write Panegyricks of my feasts, and praise The method of my wittie superfluities, The horses shall be taught with frequent waiting Vpon my gates, to stop in their careere Toward Charing-crosse, spight of the Coachmans fury. And not a tilter, but shall strike his plume, When he failes by my window, my Balconie Shall be the Courtiers Idoll, and more gaz'd at, Than all the Pageantry at Temple barre, By countrey Clients. St. Sure my Ladie's mad. Cel. Take that for your ill manners. St. Thanke you Ma∣dam, I would there were lesse quicksilver in your fingers. Exit. Cel. There's more than simple honesty in a servant Requid to his full dutie, none should dare, But with a looke, much lesse a sawcie language Checke at their Mistresse pleasure, I'me resolv'd To pay for some delight, my estate will beare it, Ile reine it shorter when I please. Enter Steward. St. A gentleman Desires to speake with your Ladiship. Cel. His name? St. He saies you know him not, he seemes to be Of qualitie. Cel. Admit him. Sir with me. Enter Hairecut. Ha. Madam I know not, how you may receive This boldnesse from me, but my faire intents Knowne, will incline you to be charitable. Cel. No doubt sir. Ha. He must live obscurely Madam, That hath not heard what vertues you possesse, And I a poore admirer of your fame, Am come to kisse your hand. Cel. That all your businesse? Ha. Though it were worth much travell, I have more In my ambition. Cel. Speake it freely sir. Ha. You are a widow. Cel. So. Ha. And I a Bachelor. Cel. You come a wooing sir, and would perhaps Shew me a way to reconcile these two. Ha. And blesse my starres for such a happinesse. Cel. I like you sir the better, that you doe not Wander about, but shoote home to the meaning, Tis a confidence will make a man Know sooner what to trust to, but I never Saw you before, and I beleeve you come not With hope to finde me desperate upon marriage, If maides out of their ignorance of what Men, are refuse these offers, widowes may Out of their knowledge be allow'd some coynesse, And yet I know not how much happinesse A peremptorie answer may deprive me of, You may be some young Lord, and though I see not Your footmen and your groome, they may not be Farre off in conference with your horse, please you To instruct me with your title, against which I would not willingly offend. Ha. I am A gentleman, my name is Hairecut madam. Cel. Sweete Mr. Hairecut, are you a Courtier? Ha. Yes Cel. J did thinke so by your confidence, Not to detaine you sir with circumstance, J was not so unhappy in my husband But that tis possible J may be a wife Agen, but J must tell you, he that winnes My affection shall deserve me. Ha. J will hope If you can love, J shanot present Madam An object to displease you in my person, And when time, and your patience shall possesse you With further knowledge of me, and the truth Of my devotion, you will not repent The offer of my service. Cel. You say well. How long doe you imagine you can love sir? Is it a Quotidian, or will it hold But every other day? Ha. You are pleasant Madam. Cel. Dost take you with a burning at the first, Or with a cold fit, for you gentlemen Have both your Summer, and your Winter service. Ha. J am ignorant what you meane, but J shall never Be cold in my affection to such beautie. Cel. And twill be somewhat long ere J be warme in't. Ha. If you vouchsafe me so much honour Madam, That J may waite on you sometimes, J shanot Despaire to see a change. Cel. But now J know Your minde, you shall not neede to tell it, when You come agen, J shall remember it. Ha. You make me fortunate. Enter Steward. St. Madam your kinswomen The Lady Novice and her sister are New lighted from their coach. Cel. I did expect e'm, They partly are my pupills, i'e attend e'm. Ha. Madam I have beene too great a trespasser Vpon your patience, ile take my leave, You have affaires, and I have some imployment Calls me to Court, I shall present agen A servant to you. Cel. Sir you may present, Exit. Ha. But not give fire I hope, now to the Ladies This recreation's past, the next must be To read to them some Court Philosophie. Exeunt. The second Act. Enter sir Thomas Bornewell. Tis a strange humour I have undertaken To dance, and play, and spend as fast as she does, But I am resolv'd, it may doe good upon her, And fright her into thrift, nay ile endeavour To make her jealous too, if this doe not Allay her gamboling, shees's past a woman And onely a miracle must tame her. Enter Steward. St. Tis Mr. Fredericke my Ladies nephew. Bo. What of him? St. Is come from the Vniversitie. Bo. By whose directions? St. It seemes my Ladies. Bo. Let me speake with him Before he see his Aunt, I doe not like it. Enter Mr. Fredericke. Mr. Fredericke welcome I expected not So soone your presence, what's the hasty cause? Fr. These letters from my Tutor will acquaint you. St. Welcome home sweet Mr. Fredericke. Fr. Where's my Aunt? St. Shee's busie about her painting, in her closet, The Outlandish man of Art, is copying out Her countenance. Fr. She is sitting for her picture. St. Yes siir, and when tis drawne, she will be hang'd Next the French Cardinall in the dining roome, But when she heares you'r come, she will dismisse The Belgicke gentleman to entertaine Your worship. Fr. Change of aire has made you witty. Bo. Your Tutor gives you a hansome character Fredericke, and is sorry your Aunts pleasure Commands you from your studies, but I hope You have no quarrell to the liberall arts, Learning is an addition beyond Nobilitie of birth, honour of bloud Without the ornament of knowledge is A glorious ignorance. Fr. I never knew more sweet and happy houres Than I emploid upon my bookes, I heard A part of my Philosophy, and was so Delighted with the harmony of nature, I could have wasted my whole life upon't. Bo. Tis pitty a rash indulgence should corrupt So faire a Genius, shee's here, ile observe. Enter Aretina, Alexander. Littleworth. Steward. Fr. My most lov'd Aunt. Are. Support me, J shall faint. Lit. What ailes your Ladiship? Are. Is that Fredericke, In blacke. Alex. Yes Madam, but the doublets Sattin. Are. The boy's undone. Fre. Madam you appeare trou∣bled. Are. Have J not cause? Was not J trusted with Thy education boy, and have they sent thee Home like a very scholler. Alex. Twas ill done How ere they usd him in the Vniversitie, To send him to his friends thus. Fre. Why sir, blacke (I or tis the colour that offends your eyesight) Is not within my reading any blemish, Sables are no disgrace in Heraldry. Alex. Tis comming from the Colledge thus, that makes it Dishonorable, while you ware it for Your father, it was commendable, or were Your Aunt dead, you might mourne and justifie. Are. What lucke J did not send him into France, They would have given him generous education, Taught him another garbe to weare his locke, And shape, as gawdie as the Summer, how To dance, and wagge his feather ala mode, To complement, and cringe, to talke not modestly Like J forsooth, and no forsooth, to blush And looke so like a Chaplaine, there he might Have learned a brazen confidence, and observ'd So well the custome of the countrey, that He might by this time have invented fashions For us, and beene a benefit to the Kingdome Preserv'd our Tailors in their wits, and fav'd The charge of sending into forraine Courts For pride and anticke fashions, observe, In what a posture he does hold his hat now. Fr. Madam with your pardon, you have practisd Another dialect then was taught me when I was commended to your care and breeding, I understand not this, Latine or Greeke Are more familiar to my apprehension, Logicke was not so hard in my first lectures As your strange language. Are. Some strong waters, oh! Lit. Comfits will be as comfortable to your stomacke Ma∣dam. Are. I feare hee's spoild forever, he did name Logicke, and may for ought I know be gone So farre to understand it, I did alwayes Suspect they would corrupt him in the Colledge, Will your Greeke sawes and sentences discharge The Mercer, or is Latin a fit language To court a mistresse in? Mr. Alexander If you have any charitie, let me Commend him to your breeding, I suspect I must employ my Doctor first, to purge. The Vniversitie that lies in's head It alters his complexion. Alex. If you dare Trust me to serve him. Are. Mr. Littleworth Be you joynd in commission. Lit. I will teach him Postures and rudiments. Are. I have no patience To see him in this shape, it turnes my stomacke, When he has cast his Academicke skinne He shall be yours, I am bound in conscience To see him bred, his owne state shall maintaine The charge, while hee's my Ward, come hither sir. Fr. What does my Aunt meane to doe with me? St. To make you a fine gentleman, and translate you Out of your learned language sir, into The present Goth and Vandall, which is French. Bo. Into what mischiefe will this humour ebbe? Shee will undo the boy, I see him ruind, My patience is not manly, but I must Vse stratagem to reduce her, open wayes Give me no hope. Exit. St. You shall be obey'd Madam. Exeunt. Fr. Mr. Steward, are you sure we doe not dreame? Was't not my Aunt you talkt to. St. One that loves you Deare as her life, these cloathes doe not become you, You must have better sir. Fr. These are not old. St. More sutable to the towne and time, we keepe No Lent here, nor is't my Ladies pleasure you Should fast from any thing you have a minde to, Vnlesse it be your learning▪ which she would have you Forget with all convenient speed that may be, For the credit of your noble family, The case is alter'd since we liv'd i'th country, We doe not invite the poore o'th parish To dinner, keepe a table for the tenants, Our kitchen does not smell of beefe, the sellar Defies the price of malt and hops, the footmen And coachdrivers may be drunke like gentlemen With wine, nor will three Fidlers upon holidayes With aid of Bagge pipes, that cald in the countrey To dance, and plough the hall up with their hobnailes, Now make my Lady merry, wee doe feed Like princes, and feast nothing but princes, And are these robes fit to be seene amongst e'm. Fr. My Lady keepes a court then, is Sir Thomas Affected with this state and cost. Ste. He was not, But is converted, and I hope you wo'not Persist in heresie, but take a course Of riot to content your friends, you shall Want nothing, if you can be proud and spend it For my Ladies honour, here are a hundred Peeces, will serve you till you have new clothes, I will present you with a nag of mine Poore tender of my service, please you accept, My Ladies smile more than rewards me for it, I must provide fit servants to attend you, Monsieures for horse and foote. Fr. I shall submit If this be my Aunts pleasure and be rul'd My eyes are open'd with this purse already, And Sacke will helpe to inspire me, I must spend it, St, What else sir? Fr. Ile begin with you, to incourage You, to have still a speciall care of me, There is five peeces, not for your nag. St. No sir, I hope it is not. Fr. Buy a Beaver For thy owne blocke, I shall be ruld, who does Command the wineseller? St. Who command but you sir? Fr. Ile try to drinke a health or two, my Aunts Or any bodies, and if that foundation Stagger me not too much, I will commence In all the arts of London. St. If you finde sir The operation of the wine, exalt Your bloud to the desire of any femall Delight, I know your Aunt wonot deny Any of her chambermaides to practise on, She loves you but too well. Fr. I know not how I may be for that exercise, farewell Aristotle, Prethee commend me to the Library At Westminster, my bones I bequeath thither, And to the learned wormes that meane to visit 'em, I will compose my selfe, I beginne to thinke I have lost time indeed, come to the wineseller. Exit. Enter Celestina, Mardana, Isabella, Ma. But shall we not Madam expose our selves To censure for this freedome. Cel. Let them answer That dare mistake us, shall we be so much Cowards to be frighted from our pleasure, Because men have malitious tongues, and shew What miserable soules they have, no cozen, We hold our life and fortunes, upon no Mans charitie, if they dare shew so little Discretion to traduce our fames, we will Be guilty of so much wit to laugh at em. Is. Tis a becomming fortitude. Cel. My starres Are yet kinde to me, for in a happy minute Be't spoke, I'me not in love, and men shall never. Make my heart leane with sighing, nor with teares Draw on my eyes the infamie of spectacles, Tis the chiefe principle to keepe your heart Vnder your owne obedience, jeast, but love not, I say my prayers yet, can weare good clothes, And onely satisfie my tailor for em. I wonot lose my priviledge. Ma. And yet they say your entertainments are, Give me your pardon Madam▪ to proclaime Your selfe a widow, and to get a husband. Cel. As if a Lady of my yeares, some beautie Left by her husband rich, that had mourn'd for him A twelve moneth too, could live so obscure i'th towne That gallants would not know her, and invite Themselves without her chargeable proclamations, Then we are worse than Citizens, no widow Left wealthy can be throughly warme in mourning, But some one noble bloud or lusty kindred Claps in, with his gilt coach, and Flandrian trotters, And hurries away to be a Countesse. Courtiers have ies, and great ones with lharge titles, Cold in their ne estates, would warme themselves At a rich city nefire. Is. Most true Madam. Cel. No matter for corruption of the bloud, Some undone Courtier made her husband rich, And this new Lord receives it backe againe. Admit it were my policie, and that My entertainements pointed to acquaint me With many sutors, that I might be safe, And make the best election, could you blame me? Ma. Madam tis wisdome. Cel. But I should be In my thoughts miserable to be fond Of leaving the sweet freedome I possesse, And court my selfe into new marriage fetters, I now observe mens severall wits, and windings, And can laugh at their follies. Ma. You have given A most ingenious satisfaction. Cel. One thing ile tell you more, and this I give you Worthy your imitation from my practise, You see me merry, full of song and dancing, Pleasant in language, apt to all delights That crowne a publike meeting, but you cannot Accuse me of being prodigall of my favours To any of my guests, I doe not summon By any winke, a gentleman to follow me, To my withdrawing chamber, I heare all Their pleaes in Court, nor can they boast abroad And doe me justice, after a salute They have much conversation with my lippe, I hold the kissing of my hand a courtesie, And he that loves me, must upon the strength Of that, expect till I renew his favour. Some Ladies are so expensive in their graces, To those that honour 'em, and so prodigall That in a little time, they have nothing but The naked sinne left to reward their servants, Whereas a thrift in our rewards, will keepe Men long in their devotion, and preserve Our selves in stocke, to encourage those that honour us. Is. This is an art worthy a Ladies practise. Cel. It takes not from the freedome of our mirth, But seemes to advance it, when we can possesse Our pleasures with security of our honour, And that preservd, I welcome all the joyes My fancy can let in. In this I have given The copie of my minde, nor doe I blush, You understand it. Enter Celestinaes gentlewoman. Is. You have honord us. Gen. Madam, Sir William Sentlove's come to waite on you. Cel. There's one would be a client, make excuse For a few minuts. Mar. One that comes a woing? Cel. Such a thing he would seeme, but in his guiltinesse Of little land, his expectation is not So valiant as it might be, he weares cloathes, And feeds with noblemen, to some I heare No better than a wanton emissarie, Or scout for Venus wild foule, which made tame, He thinkes no shame to stand court centinell, In hope of the reversion. Mar. I have heard That some of them are often my Lords tasters, The first fruits they condition for, and will Exact as fees for the promotion. Cel. Let them agree, there's no account shall lie For me among their trafficke. Enter Gentlewo. Gen. Mr. Hairecut Madam Is new come in, to tender you his service. Cel. Let him discourse a little with sir William. Exit. Ma. What is this gentleman Mr. Hairecut Madam? I note him very gallant, and much courted By gentlemen of qualitie. Cel. I know not More than a trim gay man, he has some great office Sure by his confident behaviour, He would be entertaind under the title Of servant to me, and I must confesse, He is the sweetest of all men that visite me. Is. How meane you Madam? Cel. He is full of powder, He will save much in perfume for my chamber, Were he but constant here; give e'm accesse. Enter Sir Will. Sentlove, Mr. Hairecut. Sent. Madam the humblest of your servants is Exalted to a happinesse, if you smile Vpon my visit. Ha. I must begge your charitie Vpon my rudenesse Madam, I shall give That day up lost to any happinesse, When I forget to tender you my service. Cel. You practise Courtship gentlemen. Sent. But cannot Find where with more desert to exercise it, What Ladie's this I pray? Cel. A kinswoman Of mine sir William. Sent. I am more her servant, Cel. You came from Court, now I presume. Ha. Tis Ma∣dam The sphere I move in, and my destinie Was kinde to place me there, where J enjoy All blessings that a mortall can possesse, That lives not in your presence, and J should Fixe my ambition, when you would vouchsafe Me so much honour, to accept from me An humble entertainment there. Cel. But by What name shall I be knowne, in what degree Shall J be of kinred to you. Hair. How meane you Madam? Cel. Perhaps you'le call me sister, I shall take it A speciall preferment, or it may be J may passe under title of your Mistresse, If I seeme rich, and faire enough, to engage Your confidence to owne me. Ha. J would hope. Cel. But tis not come to that yet, you will sir Excuse my mirth. Ha. Sweet Madam. Cel. Shall J take Boldnesse to aske what place you hold in Court? Tis an uncivill curiositie, But you'le have mercie to a womans question. Ha. My present condition Madam, carries Honour and profit, though not to be nam'd With that employment J expect ith state Which shall discharge the first maturitie Vpon your knowledge, untill then I begge You allow a modest silence. Cel. I am charmd sir, And if you scape embassador, you cannot Reach a preferment, wherein I'me against you, But where's sir William Sentlove? Ha. Give him leave To follow his nose Madam, while he hunts In view, hee'le soone be at a fault. Cel. You know him. Ha. Know Sentlove? not a page but can decipher him, The waiting women know him to a scruple, Hee's cal'd the Blistermaker of the towne. Cel. Whats that? Is. The laundry Ladies can resolve you, And you may guesse, an arrant Epicure As this day lives, borne to a prettie wit, A Knight but no gentleman, J must Be plaine to you, your Ladiship may have Vse of this knowledge, but conceale the author. Sen. J kisse your fairest hand. Mar. You make a difference, Pray reconcile e'm to an equall whitenesse. Sent. You wound my meaning Lady. Cel. Nay sir William Has the art of complement. Sent. Madam, you honor me 'Bove my desert of language. Cel. Will you please To enrich me with your knowledge of that gentleman. Sent. Doe you not know him Madam. Cel. What is he? Sen. A Camphire ball, you shall know more hereafter He shall tell you himselfe, and save my character, Till then, you see hee's proud. Cel. One thing gentlemen I observe in your behaviour, which is rare In two that court one mistresse, you preserve A noble friendship, theres no gum within Your hearts, you cannot fret, or shew an envy Of one anothers hope, some would not governe Their passions with that temper. Sent. The whole world Shanot divorce our friendship. Mr Hairecut Would I had lives to serve him, he is lost To goodnesse does not honour him. Ha. My knight I Cel. This is right playing at Court Shuttlecocke. Enter Gentlew. Gen. Madam, there is a gentleman desires To speake w'ee, one sir Thomas Bornwell. Cel. Bornewell? Gen. He sayes he is a stranger to your Ladiship. Sen. I know him. Haire▪ Your neighbour Madam. Sen. Husband to the Lady, that so revells in the strand. Ha. He has good parts they say, but cannot helpe His Ladies bias. Cel. They have both much fame 'Ith towne for severall merits, pray admit him. Ha. What comes he for? Enter sir Thomas▪ Bo. Your pardon noble Lady, that I have Presum'd a stranger to your knowledge. Cel. Sir, Your worth was here before you, and your person Cannot be here ingratefull. Bor. Tis the bounty Of your sweet disposition Madam, make me Your servant Lady by her faire example, To favour me — I never knew one turne Her cheeke to a gentleman that came to kisse her But sha'd a stinking breath; your servant gentlemen, Will Sent love how ist? Cel. I am sorry Coze To accuse you, we in nothing more betray Our selves to censure of ridiculous pride, Then answering a faire salute too rudely, Oh it shewes ill upon a gentlewoman Not to returne the modest lip, if she Would have the world beleeve, her breath is not Offensive. Bor. Madam, I have businesse With you. Sent. His lookes are pleasant. Cel. With me sir? Bor. I heare you have an ex'lent wit Madam, I see your faire Cel. The first is but report, And doe not trust your eyesight for the last, Cause I presume y'are mortall and may erre. Ha. He is very gamesome. Bor. Y'ave an ex'lent voyce; They say you catch it from a dying Swan, Which joyn'd to the sweete harmony of your lute, You ravish all mankind. Cel. Ravish mankind? Bo. With their consent. Cel. It were the stranger rape, But there's the lesse inditement lies against it, And there is hope; your little honesties Cannot be much the worse, for men doe rather Beleeve they had a maiden head, then put Themselves to'th racke of memory, how long Tis since they left the burden of their innocence. Bo. Why you are bitter Madam. Cel. So is physicke, I doe not know your constitution. Bo. You shall if please you Madam. Cel. Y'are too hasty, I must examine what certificate You have, first to preferre you. Bo. Fine! certificate? Cel. Vnder your Ladies hand, and seale. Bor. Go to, I see you are a wag. Cel. But take heede, how You trust too't. Bor. I can love you in my wedlocke, As well as that young gallant, oth first haire, Or the knight Bachelor, and can returne As amorous delight to thy soft bosome. Cel. Your person and your language are both strangers. Bo. But may be more familiar, I have those That dare make affidavit for my body. Cel. D'ee meane your Surgeon? Bor. My Surgeon Madam▪ I know not how you value my abilities, But I dare undertake, as much, to expresse My service to your Ladiship, and with As fierce ambition, fly to your commands, As the most valiant of these, 'lay siege to you. Cel. You dare not sir. Bor. How Madam? Cel. I will in∣stifi't. You dare not marry me, and I imagine Some here should I consent, would fetch a priest Out of the fire. Bor. I have a wife indeede, Cel. And there's a statute not repeald I take it. Bor. Yare in the right I must confesse y'ave hit, And bled me in a master veine. Cel. You thinke I tooke you on the advantage, use your best Skill at defence, Ile come up to your valour And shew another worke you dare not doe, You dare not sir be vertuous. Bor. I dare, By this faire hand, I dare, and aske a pardon If my rude words offend thy innocence, Which in a forme so beautifull, would shine To force a blush in them suspected it, And from the rest draw wonder. Ha. I like not Their secret parly, shall I interrupt em? Is. By no meanes sir. Sent. Sir Thomas was not wont To shew so much a Courtier. Mar. He cannot Be prejudiciall to you, suspect not Your owne deserts so much, hee's married. Bo. I have other businesse Madam, you keepe musicke, I came to try how you can dance. Cel. You did? Ile trie his humour out of breath▪ Although boast no cunning sir in revells, If you desire to shew your art that way, I can waite on you. Bor. You much honour me, Nay all must joyne to make a harmony. They dance. Bor. I have nothing now, Madam, but to beseech After a pardon for my boldnesse, you Would give occasion to pay my gratitude, I have a house will be much honourd If you vouchsafe your presence, and a wife Desires to present her selfe your servant, I Came with the ambition to invite you, Deny me not, your person you shall trust On faire securitie. Cel. Sir, although I use not This freedome with a stranger, you shall have No cause to hold me obstinate. Bor. You grace me Sir William Sentlove— Ha. I must take my leave, You will excuse me Madam, Court attendances — Cel. By any meanes. Bor. Ladies you will vouchsafe Your company. Is. M. We waite upon you sir. Exunt. The third Act. Enter Lord unready. Hairecut preparing his Periwigge, Table, and Lookingglasse. Lor. What houre ist? Ha. Bout three'a clocke my Lord. Bor. Tis time to rise. Ha. Your Lordship went but late To bed last night. Lor. Twas early in the morning. Enter Secre. Sec. Expect a while, my Lord is busie? Lor. Whats the matter? Sec. Here is a Lady Desires accesse to you upon some affaires She saies may specially concerne your Lordship. Lor. A Lady? What her name? Sec. Madam Decoy. Lor. Decoy? prethee admit her. Enter Decoy. Have you businesse Madam With me? Decoy. And such I hope as will not be Offensive to your Lordship. Lor. I pray speake it. De. I would desire your Lordships eare more private. Lor. Waite i'th next chāber till I call, now Madam. Exeunt. De. Although I am a stranger to your Lordship I wo'd not lose a faire occasion offer'd. To shew how much I honour, and would serve you. Lor. Please you to give me the particular That I may know the extent of my engagement, I am ignorant by what desert you should Be encouragd to have care of me. De. My Lord, I will take boldnesse to be plaine, beside Your other excellent parts, you have much fame For your sweet inclination to our sexe. Lor. How dee meane Madam? Dec. I that way your Lordship Hath honorably practisd upon some Not to be nam'd, your noble constancie To a mistresse hath deserv'd our generall vote, And I a part of woman kind have thought How to expresse my duty. Lor. In what Madam? Dec. Be not so strange my Lord, I know the beauty And pleasures of your eyes, that hansome creature With whose faire life all your delight tooke leave, And to whose memory you have paid too much▪ Sad tribute. Lor. Whats all this? Dec. This, if your Lord∣ship Accept my service, in pure zeale to cure Your melancholy, I could point where you might Repaire your losse. Lor. Your Ladiship I conceive Doth trafficke in flesh marchandize. De. To men. Of honour like your selfe, I am well knowne To some in court and come not with ambition Now to supplant your officer. Lor. What is The Lady of pleasure you preferre. De. A Lady Of birth and fortune, one upon whose vertue I may presume, the Lady Aretina▪ Lor. Wife to sir Thomas Bornwell? Dec. The same sir▪ Lor. Have you prepard her? Not for your Lordship, till I have found your pulse, I am acquainted with her disposition She has a very appliable nature. Lor. And Madam when expect you to be whipt For doing these fine favors. De. How my Lord? Your Lordship does but jeast I hope; you make A difference betweene a Lady that Does honorable offices, and one They call a bawd, your Lordship was not wont To have such course opinion of our practise. Lor. The Lady Aretina is my kinswoman. De. What if she be my Lord? the nearer bloud The dearer sympathie. Lor. Ile have thee carted. De. Your Lordship wonot so much staine your honour And education, to use a woman Of my qualitie.—Lord.— Tis possible you may Be sent off with an honorable convoy Of Halberdeers. De. Oh my good Lord! Lor. Your Ladiship shall be no protection If thou but stai'st three minutes. De. I am gone, When next you finde rebellion in your bloud, May all within ten mile o'th court turne honest. Exit. Lor. I doe not finde that pronenesse since the faire Bella Maria died, my bloud is cold, Nor is there beautie enough surviving To highten me to wantonnesse, who waites? And what said my Lady? Enter Hairecut. Ha. The silent language of her face my Lord Was not so pleasant, as it shewd upon Her entrance. Lor. Would any man that meetes This Lady take her for a bawde. Ha. She does The trade an honor, credit to the profession, We may in time see baldnesse, quarter noses, And rotten legges to take the wall of footclothes. Lor. I ha thought better, call the Lady backe, I wonot lose this opportunitie, Bid her not feare, the favour is not common, And ile reward it. I doe wonder much Will Sentlove was not here to day. Ha. I heard him say this morning, he would waite Vpon your Lordship. She is returnd sir. Enter Secre. and Decoy. Sec. Madam be confident my Lords not angry. Bor. You returne welcome Madam, you are better Read in your art I hope then to be frighted With any shape of anger, when you bring Such newes to gentlemen, Madam you shall Soone understand how I accept the office. De. You are the first Lord, since J studied carriage, That shew'd such infidelity and fury Vpon so kind a message, every gentleman Will shew some breeding, but if one right honourable Should not have noble bloud. Lor. You shall returne My complement in a letter to my Lady Aretina, favour me with a little patience, Shew her that chamber. De. Ile attend your Lordship. Ex. Lor. Write. Madam where your honour is in danger, My love must not be silent. Enter Sentlove and Kickshaw. Sentlove and Kickshaw! Kic. Your Lordship's busie. Lor. Writing a letter, nay it shanot barre Any discourse. Sec. —Silent. Lo. Though I be no Physitian, I may prevent a feaver in your bloud. And where have you spent the mornings conversation? Sent. Where you would have given the best Barbary In your stable to have met on honorable termes. Lor. What new beautie? You acquaint your selves With none but wonders. Sent. Tis too low a miracle▪ Lor. Twill require a strong faith. Secr. Your bloud. Lor. If you be innocent preserve your fame least this Decoy Madam betray it to your repentance. By what name is she knowne? Sent. Aske Alexander, he knowes her? Alex. Whom? Sent. The Lady Celestina. Lor. He has a vast knowledge of Ladies, las poore Alexander! When dost thou meane thy body shall lie fallow? Al When there is mercy in a petticote, I must turne pilgrime for some breath. Lor. I thinke Twere cooler travell if you examine it Vpon the hoofe through Spaine. Sent. Through Ethiopia▪ Lor. Nay lesse laborious to serve a prentiship In Peru, and dig gold out of the mine, Though all the yeare were dogdayes. Sec. To repentance, Lor. In briefe, this Lady, could you fall from vertue, Within my knowledge will not blush to be a Bawde. Sent. But hang't tis honorable journey worke, Thou art famous by't, and thy name's up. Alex. So sir▪ Let me aske you a question my deare knight, Which is lesse servile to bring up the Pheasant, And waite, or sit at table uncontrould And carve to my owne appetite? Sent. No more, Th'art witty, as I am— Sec. A bawd. Sent. How's that? Al. Oh you are famous by't, and your names up sir. Lor. Be wise, and reward my caution, with Timely care of your selfe, so I shall not repent To be knowne your lovings kinsman and servant. Gentlemen, the Lady Celestina. Is she so rare a thing? Alex. If you'le have my Opinion my Lord, I never saw So sweete, so faire, so rich a peece of nature. Lor. Ile shew thee a fairer presently, to shame Thy eyes and judgement, looke o'that. — So Ile subscribe Seale it, ile excuse your pen for the direction. Al. Bella Marias picture; she was hansome. Sent. But not to be compar'd. Lor. Your patience gentlemen ile returne instantly. Exit. Al. Whither is my Lord gone? Sec. To a Lady i'th next Chamber. Sen. What is she? Sec. You shall pardon me, I am his Secretary. Sen. I was wont to be of his counsell, a new officer And I'not know't? I am resolvd to 'batter All other with the praise of Celestina I must retaine him. Enter Lord. Lor. Has not that object Convinc't your erring judgements. Al. What this picture? Lor. Were but your thoughts as capable as mine Of her Idea, you would wish no thought That were not active in her praise, above All worth and memory of her sexe. Sent. She was faire I must confesse, but had your Lordship look'd With eyes more narrow and some lesse affection Vpon her face. Alex. I doe not love the copies Of any dead, they make me dreame of goblins, Give me a living mistresse, with but halfe The beauty of Celestina, come my Lord, Tis pitty that a Lord of so much flesh Should waste upon a ghost, when they are living Can give you a more honourable consumption. Sen. Why doe you meane my Lord to live an Infidell? Doe, and see what will come ont, observe still And dote upon your vigills, build a chamber Within a rocke, a tombe, among the wormes, Not farre off, where you may in proofe apocryphall Court em not devoure the pretty pile. Of flesh your mistresse carried to the grave, There are no women in the world, all eyes And tongue and lippes are buried in her coffin. Lor. Why doe you thinke your selves competent Judges. Of beauty gentlemen? Both. What should hinder us? Al. I have seene and tried as many as another With a mortall bace. Lord▪ Your eyes are bribd, And your hearts chain'd to some desires, you cannot Enjoy the freedome of a sence. Alex. Your Lordship Has a cleare eyesight, and can judge and penetrate. Lor. I can, and give a perfect censure of Each line and point, distinguish beautie from A thousand formes, which your corrupted optiks Would passe for naturall. Sent. I desire no other Judge should determine us, and if your Lordship Dare venture but your eyes upon this Lady, Ile stand their justice, and be confident You shall give Celestin victorie, And triumph ors all beauties past and living. Al. J date my Lord venture a sute of clothes, You will be orecome. Lor. You doe not know my fortitude Sent. Nor frailtie, you dare not trust you selfe to see her. Lor. Thinke you so gentlemen, I dare see this creature To make you know your errors▪ and the difference Of her, whose memory is my Saint, not trust My sences? J dare see and speake with her, Which holds the best acquaintance to prepare My visit to her. Sent. I will doo't my Lord. Al. Shee is a Lady free in entertainements. Lor. I would give this advantage to your cause, Bid him appeare in all the ornaments Did ever waite on beautie, all the riches Pride can put on, and teach her face more charme Then ever Poet drest up Venus in, Bid her be all the graces, and the queene Of love in one, Ile see her Sentlove, and Bring off my heart arm'd, but single thought Of one that is dead, without a wound, and when I have made your follie prisoner, ile laugh at you. Sent. She shall expect you, trust to me for knowledge. Lor. I'me for the present somewhere else engagd, Let me heare from you. Sent. So I am glad hee's yet So neere conversion. Alex. I am for Aretina. Sent. No mention of my Lord. Alex. Prepare his Lady, Tis time he were reduc'd to the old sport, One Lord like him more would undoe the court. Exit. Enter Aretina with a letter. Decoy. De. He is the ornament of your bloud Madam, I am much bound to his Lordship. Are. He gives you A noble character. De. Tis his goodnesse Madam. Are. I wanted such an engine, my Lord has Done me a curtesie to disclose her nature, I now know one to trust, and will employ her. Touching my Lord, for reasons, which I shall Offer to your Ladiship hereafter, I Desire you would be silent, but to shew How much I dare be confident in your secrecie, I powre my bosome forth, I love a gentleman On whom there woo'not meet much conjuration To meet—your eare▪ — De. I apprehend you, and I shall Be happy to be serviceable, I am sorry Your Ladiship did not know me before now, I have done offices, and not a few Of the nobilitie, but have done feates Within my house, which is so convenient For situation, and artfull chambers, Such pretty pictures to provoke the fancie. Enter Littleworth. Lit. Madam all pleasures languish in your absence. Are. Your pardon a few minutes sir—you must Contrive it thus. Lit. I attend, and shall account it Honour to waite on your returne. Are. He may not Have the least knowledge of my name, or person. De. I have practisd that already for some great ones, And dare agen to satisfie you Madam; I have a thousand wayes to doe sweet offices. Lit. If this Lady Aretina should be honest, I ha lost time, shee's free as aire, J must Have closer conference, and if I have art, Make her affect me in revenge. De. This evening Leave me to manage things. Are. You will oblige me. De. You shall commend my art, and thanke me after. Ex. Are. I hope the revells are maintained within. Lit. By sir Thomas and his Mistris. Are. How? his Mistris. Lit. The Lady Celestina, I nere saw Eyes shoote more amorous enterchange. Are. Ist so? Lit. He weares her favor with meere pride. Ar. Her favor. Lit. A feather that he ravish'd from her fan. Lit. And is so full of courtship, which she smiles on. Are. Tis well. Lit. And praises her beyond all poetry. Are. I'me glad he has so much wit. Lit. Not jealous! Are. This secures me, what would make other Ladies pale With jealousie, gives but a licence to my wandrings, Let him now taxe me if he dare—and yet Her beauti's worth my envie, and I wish Revenge upon it, not because he loves, But that it shines above my owne. Enter Alex. Al. Deare Madam. Are. I have it, you two gentlemen professe Much service to me, if I have a way To employ your wit and secrecie. Both. You'le honour us. Are. You gave a high and worthy character Of Celestina. Alex. I remember Madam. Are. Doe either of you love her. Alex. Nor I Madam. Lit. I wod not if I might. Are. Shee's now my guest, And by a tricke invited by my husband To disgrace me, you gentlemen are held Wits of the towne, the Consulls that doe governe The Senate here, whose jeeres are all authenticke, The Tavernes and the Ordinaries are Made academies where you come, and all Your sinnes and surfets made times example, Your very nods can quell a Theater, No speech or Poem good without your seale, You can protect scurrility, and publish By your authority beleev'd, no rapture Ought to have honest meaning. Alex. Leave our characters. Lit. And name the emploiment. Are. You must exercise The strength of both your wits upon this Lady, And talke her into humblenesse or anger Both which are equall to my thought, if you Dare undertake this slight thing for my sake, My favour shall reward it, but be faithfull, And seeme to let all spring from your owne freedome. Ale. This all? We can defame her, if you please My friend shall call her whore or any thing, And never be endangerd to a duell. Are. How's that? Al. He can endure a cudgelling, and no man Will fight after so faire a satisfaction, But leave us to our Art, and doe not limit us. Are. They are here, begin not till I whisper you. Enter sir Thomas, Celestina, Marcana, Isabella. Ar. Ie vous prie Madam d' excuser l'importunitè de mes affaires Qui m' ont fait offenser, par mon, absence, une dame de laquelle I'ay receu tant d' obligation. Cel. Pardonnez moy Madame; vous me faictez trop a honneur. Are. C'est bien de la douceur de vostre naturel que vous tenez Ceste language; mais j'espere que mon mary na pas Manquè de vous entretenir en mon absence. Ce. En verite Monsieur nous a fort obligè Are.

Il eut trop failly, s'il n'eust taschè de tout fon pouvoir à vous rendre toutes sortes de services.

Cel. Cest de sa bonté qu'il nous a tant favorisé. Ar. De la vostre plustost Madame que vous fait donner D'interpretation si benigne à ses efforts. Cel.

Ie voy bien que la victoire fera toutsjours à Madame, & de language, & de la courtesie.

Are. Vrayement Madame, que jamais personne a plus desire, L'honneur de vostre compagnie, que moy. Cel.

Laissons enje vous supplis, des compliments & permiettoz à vostre servante de vous baiser les mains.

Are. Vous m'obligez trop. Bo. I have no more patience, lets be merry agen In our owne language, Madam our mirth cooles, Our Nephew! Enter Fredericke. Are. Passion of my braine. Fre. Save you gentlemen, save you Ladies. Are. I am un∣done. Fre. I must salute, no matter at which end I begin. Are. There's a complement. Cel. Is this your nephew Madam? Are. Ie vous prie Madame d▪ execuser les habitz, & le rude Comportement de mon cousin. Il est tout fraischement Venu de l universitiè, ou on l'a tout gastè. Cel Excusez moy Madam, il est bien accomply. Fre. This language should be French, by the motions Of your heads, and the mirth of your faces. Are. I am disho∣nor'd. Fre. Tis one of the finest tongues for Ladies to shew their Teeth in, If you'le Latine I am for you, or Greeke it, My tailor has not put me into French yet, Mille basia, basia mille. Cel. Ie ne vous entende pas monsieur, I understand you not sir. Fre. Why so? You and I then shall be in charity, For though we should be abusive, we ha the benefit Not to understand one another: where's my Aunt? I did heare musicke somewhere, and my braines Tun'd with a bottle of your capering claret Made haste to shew their dancing. Lit. Please you Madam, They are very comfortable. St. Alas Madam How would you have me helpe it, I did use All meanes I could, after he heard the musicke, To make him drunke in hope so to containe him, But the wine made him lighter, and his head Flew hi'ther, ere I mist his heeles. Ale. Nay he spoke Latine to the Lady. Are. Oh most unpardonable! get him off Quickly, and discreetely, or if I live — St. Tis not in my power he sweares I am An absurd sober fellow, and if you keepe A servant in his house to crosse his humour, When the rich sword and belt comes home, hee'le kill him. Are. What shall I doe? Try your skill, Master Littleworth. Lit. He has ne're a sword, sweet Mr. Fredericke▪ Bo. Tis pitty Madam such a syen should Be lost, but you are clouded. Cel. Not I sir, I never found my selfe more cleare at heart. Bo. I could play with a feather, your fan Lady, Gentlemen, Aretina, ta ra ra ra, come Madam. Fre. Why my good tutor in election? You might have beene a scholler. Lit. But I thanke My friends they brought me up a little better, Give me the towne wits, that deliver jeasts Cleane from the bow, that whistle in the aire, And cleave the pin at twelvescore, Ladies doe But laugh at a gentleman that has any learning. Tis sinne enough to have your clothes suspected, Leave us, and I will find a time to instruct you; Come here are sugar plumbes, tis a good Fredericke. Fre. Why is not this my Aunts house in the strand? The noble Rendevous? Who laughes at me? Go, I will root here▪ if I list, and talke Of Retoricke, Logicke, Latine, Greeke, or any thing, And understand 'em too, who sayes the contrary? Yet in a faire way I contemne all learning, And will be ignorant as he, or he, Or any taffata, satten, scarlet, plush, Tissue, or cloath, a bodkin gentleman, Whose manners are most gloriously infected; Did you laugh at me Lady? Cel. Not I sir? But if I did shew mirth upon your question, I hope you wod not beate me little gentleman. Fr. How little gentleman? you dare not say These words to my new cloathes, and fighting sword. Are. Nephew Fredericke! Fr. Little gentleman, This an affront both to my bloud and person, I am a gentleman of as tall a birth As any least nobility, though my clothes Smell o'the lampe, my coate is honourable, Right honourable, full, of or, and argent, A little gentleman! Bor. Coze you must be patient, My Lady meant you no dishonour, and You must remember shee's a woman. Fre. Is she a woman, thats another matter, Dee heare, my uncle tells me what you are. Cel. So sir. Fr. You cald me little gentleman. Cel. I did sir. Fre. A little pinke has made a lusty ship Strike her topsaile, the Crow may beard the Elephant, A whelpe may tame the Tiger, spight of all False decks and murderers, and a little gentleman Be hard enough to grapple with your Ladiship Top and top gallant; will you goe drinke uncle? Tother inchanted bottle, you and I Will tiple, and talke phylosophy. Bo. Come Nephew, You will excuse a minutes absence Madam. Waite you on us. St. My duty sir. Are. Now gentlemen. Ex. all but Cel. & Alex. & Little. Alex. Madam I had rather you accuse my language For speaking truth, then vertue suffer in My further silence, and it is my wonder That you, whose noble carriage hath deserv'd All honour, and opinion should now Be guilty of ill manners. Cel. What was that You told me sir? Lit. Doe you not blush Madam? To aske that question. Cel. You amaze rather My cheeke to palenesse, what you meane by this? I am not troubled with the hickup gentlemen, You should bestow this fright upon me. Lit. Then Pride and ill memory goe together. Cel. How sir? Al. The gentleman on whom you exercise Your thin wit, was a nephew to the Lady Whose guest you are, and though her modesty Looke calme on the abuse of one so neare Her bloud, the affront was impious. Lit. I am asham'd on't, You an ingenious Lady and well mannerd? Ile reach a Beare as much civility. Cel. You may be master of the Colledge sir For ought I know. Lit. What Colledge? Of the Beares. Cel. Have you a plot upon me? Dee possesse Your wits, or know me gentlemen. Enter Bornewell. Bor. How's this? Al. Know you? yes we doe know you to an atome. Li. Madam we know, what stuffe your soule is made on. Cel. But doe not barke so like a mastive, pray, Sure they are mad, let your braines stand awhile And settle gentlemen, you know not me, What am I? Lit. Tha'rt a puppet, a thing made Of clothes and painting, and not halfe so hansome As that which plaid Susanna in the faire. Cel. I heard you visited those canvas tragedies, One of their constant audience, and so taken With Susan, that you wishd your selfe a rivall With the two wicked elders. Al. You thinke this Is wit now, come you are— Cel. What I beseech you? Your character will be full of salt and satyre, No doubt, what am I? Al. Why you are a woman. Cel. And that's at least a bow wide of you knowledge. Al. Wo'd be thought hansome, and might passe i'th country Vpon a market day, but miserably Forfeit to pride and fashions, that if heaven were a new gowne, you'd not stay in't a fortnight. Cel. It must be miserably out of fashion then, Have I no sinne but pride? Al. Hast any vertue? Or but a good face to excuse that want? Cel. You prais'd it yesterday. Al. That made you proud. Cel. More pride? Al. You neede not to close up the praise, I have seene a better countenance in a Sibill. Cel. When you wore spectacles of sacke, mistooke The painted cloath, and kist it for your mistresse. Al. Let me aske you a question, how much Have you consum'd in expectation That I would love you. Cel. Why? I thinke as much As you have paid a way in honest debts This seven yeare, tis a pretty impudence, But cannot make me angry. Lit. Is there any Man that will cast away his limbes upon her? Al. You doe not sing so well as I imagind, Nor dance, you reele in your coranto, and pinch Your petticoate too hard, y ave no good eare Toth' musicke, and incline too much one shoulder, As you were dancing on the rope, and falling, You speake abominable French, and make A courtsey like a Dairie maide, not mad? Lit. Doe we not sting her hansomely Bor. A conspiracie. Al. Your state is not so much as tis reported When you conferre notes, all your husbands debts And your owne reconcild— but thats not it Will so much spoile your marriage. Cel. As what sir? Let me know all my faults. Al. Some men doe whisper You are not over honest. Cel. All this shall not Move me to more than laughter, and some pittie, Because you have the shapes of gentlemen, And though you have beene insolent upon me, I will engage no friend to kicke or cudgell you To spoile your living, and your limbes together, I leave that to diseases that offend you, And spare my curse, poore silken Vermine, and Hereafter shall distinguish Men from Monkies. Bo. Brave soule, you brace of horseleaches, I have heard Their barbarous language Madam, yare too mercifull, They shall be silent to your tongue, pray punish e'm. Cel. They are things not worth my character, nor mention Of any cleane breath, so lost in honesty They cannot satisfie for wrongs enough, Though they should steale out of the world at Tiburne. Lit. We are hang'd already. Cel. Yet I will talke a little to the pilchards, You two that have not twixt you both the hundred Part of a soule, course woollen witted fellowes, Without a nap, with bodies made for burdens, You that are onely stuffings for apparrell As you were made but engines for your Taylors To frame their clothes upon, and get them custome; Vntill men see you moove, yet, then you dare not Out of your guilt of being the ignobler beast But give a horse the wall, whom you excell Onely in dancing of the brawles, because The horse was not taught the French way, your two faces, One fat like Christmas, tother leane like Candlemas, And Prologue to a Lent, both bound together Would figure Ianus, and doe many cures On Agues and the greene disease by frighting, But neither can with all the characters And conjuring circles charme a woman, though Sha'd fourescore yeares upon her, and but one Tooth in her head, to love or thinke well of you; And I were miserable, to be at cost To court such a complexion, as your malice Did impudently insinuate, but I waste time And staine my breath in talking to such tadpoles. Goe home and wash your tongues in Barly water Drinke cleane Tobacco, be not hot i'th mouth, And you may scape the Beadle; so I leave you To shame and your owne garters, Sir I must Entreate you for my honour doe not pennance em▪ They are not worth your anger, how I shall Acquit your Ladies silence. . Madam, I Am sorry to suspect, and dare revenge Cel. No▪ caus mine. Br. It must become me to attend you home. Cel. You are noble — — farewell Mushroomes. Are. Is she gone. Li. I thinke we peperd her▪ Al. I am glad tis over▪ But I repent no service for you Madam. Enter servant with a letter. To me? from whence a Iewell a good preface, Be happy the conclusion. Are. Some love letter — He smiles upon. Lit. He has a hundred Mistresses, you may Be charitable Madam I ha none, He surfets, and I fall away th kidnyes. Al. Ile meete, Tis some great Lady questionlesse, that has Taken notice, and would satisfie her appetite. Are. Now Mr. Alexander, you looke bright o'the suddaine, Another spirit's in your eye. Al▪ Not Madam▪ Onely a to a friend. Ar. What friend? Lit. By this Jewell, I know her not▪ Ar. Tis a she friend▪ Ile follow gentlemen, We may have a game before you go▪ Al. I shall attend you Lit. Tis our duty. Are. I blush my owne thoughts, Some strange face gove me, The wayes are east already and we thrive When our sinne feares no eye nor perspective. Exit. The fourth Act▪ Enter two men leading Alexander ded, and goe f suddenly. Al. I am not hurt, my patience to obey▪em Not without feare to ha my throat cut else, Did me a curtesie ha they brought me Tis devillish darke, the bottome of a well At midnight, with but two starres on the top, Were broad day to this darkenesse, I but thinke How like a whirlewinde these rogues caught me up And smoothered my eyesight, let me see, These may be spirits, and for ought I know Have brought me hither over twenty steeples, Pray heaven they were not Bayiefes; thats more worth My feare, and this a prison, all my debts Reeke in my nostrill, and my bones beginne To ake with feare to be made dice, and yet This is too calme and quiet for a prison; What if the riddle prove I am robd; and yet I did not feele em search me? How now? musicke? Enter Decoy like an old woman with a light. And a light? What beldam's this, I cannot pray; What art? De. A friend, feare not young man I am No spirit. Alex. Off. De. Despise me not for age, Or this course outside, which I weare not out Of poverty; thy eyes be witnesse, tis No cave or beggars cell tha'rt brought too, let That gold speake here's no want, which thou maist spend, And finde a spring to tire even prodigality If thou beest wise▪ Alex. The devill was a coyner From the beginning, yet the gold lookes currant. De. Tha'rt still in wonder, know I am Mistresse of This house, and of a fortune that shall serve And feed thee with delights, twas J sent for thee, The jewell and the letter came from me▪ It was my art, thus to contrive our meeting, Because J would not trust thee with my fame, Vntill J found thee worth a womans honor. Al. Honour and fame? the devill meanes to have A care on's credit, though she sent for me, J hope, she has another customer To doe the tricke withall, J wod not turne Familiar to a witch. De. What saist? Canst thou Dwell in my armes to night, shall we change kisses, And entertaine the silent houres with pleasure? Such as old time shall be delighted with, And blame the too swifte motion of his wings While we embrace. Al. Embrace? she has had no teeth This twenty yeares, and the next violent cough Brings up her tongue, it cannot possibly Be sound at root, I doe not thinke but one Strong sneeze upon her, and well mean't would make Her quartrs fall away, one kicke would blow Her up like gunpowder, and loose all her limbs; She is so cold, an Incubus wod not heate her, Her phlegme would quench a furnace, and her breath Would dampe a musket bullet. De. Have you sir Considerd. Alex. What? De. My proposition, Canst love? Alex. I could have done, whom doe you meane? I know you are pleas'd, but to make sport. De. Thou art not So dull of soule as thou appearst. Alex. This is. But some device, my granam has some tricke in't: Yes I can love. De. But canst thou affect me. Al. Although to reverence so grave a matron Were an ambitious word in me, yet since You give me boldnesse, I doe love you. De. Then Thou art my owne. Al. Has she no cloven foote? De. And I am thine, and all that I command Thy servants, from this minute thou are happy, And fate in thee will crowne all my desires. I griev'd a proper man should be compeld To bring his body to the common market, My wealth shall make thee glorious, and the more To encourage thee, how er this forme may fright Thy youthfull eyes, yet thou wo't find by light Of thy owne sense, for other light is banish'd My chamber, when our armes tie lovers knots, And kisses seale the welcome of our lippes, I shall not there afright thee, nor seeme old, With riveld veines, my skin is smooth and softe As Ermines, with a spirit to meete thine, Active and equall to the queene of Loves When she did court Adonis. Al. This doth more Confirme she is a devill, and I am Within his owne dominions, I must on, Or else be torne a pces, I have heard These Sucubi must not be crost. De. We trifle Too precious time away, Ile shew you a prospect Of the next chamber, and then out the candle. Al. Have you no sacke i'th house, I would goe arm'd Vpon this breach. De. It shanot need. Al. One word Mother, have not you beene a Cat in your dayes? De. I am glad you are so merry sir, you observe That bed. Alex. A very brave one. De. When you are Disrob'd, you can come thither in the darke, You shanot stay for me, come as you wish For happinesse. Exit. Al. I am preferd, if I Be modest and obey, she cannot have The heart to doe me harme, and she were Hecate Herselfe, I will have a strong faith, and thinke, I march upon a Mistris, the lesse evill, If I scape fire now, I defie the devill. Exit. Enter Fred: Littlew. Stoward. Fre. And how dee like me now? St. Most excellent. Fre. Your opinion Mr. Littlewor. Lit. Your French tailor Has made you a perfect gentleman, I may Converse now with you, and preserve my credit, De'e find no alteration in your body With these new clothes? Fre. My body altered? No. Lit. You are not yet in fashion then, that must Have a new motion garbe, and posture too, Or all your pride is cast away, it is not The cut of your apparrell makes a gallant, But the geometricall wearing of your clothes. St. Mr. Littleworth tells you right, you weare your a: Too like a citizen. Lit. Tis like a Midwife, Place it with best advantage of your haire, Is halfe your feather molted? this does make No shew, it should spread over like a Canopy, Your hot reind Monsieur weares it for a shade, And cooler to his backe, your doublet must Be more unbotton'd hereabouts, you'le not Be a sloven else, a foule shirt is no blemish, You must be confident, and outface cleane linnen! Your doublet and your breeches must be allow'd No private meeting here, your cloak's too long, It reaches to your buttocke, and doth smell Too much of Spanish gravitie, the fashion Is to weare nothing but a Cape, a coate May be allowed a covering for one elbow, And some to avoid the trouble, choose to walke In quipo thus. St. Your coat, and cloak's a brushing In Long-lane Lumbard. Fre. But what if it raine? Lit. Your belt about your shoulder is sufficient To keepe off any storme, beside a reede But wau'd discreetly, has so many pores, It suckes up all the raine that falls about one, With this defence▪ when other men have beene Wet to the skin through all their cloakes, I have Defied a tempest and walk'd by the Tavernes Drie as a bone. St. Because he had no money To call for wine. Fr. Why you doe walke enchanted, Have you such pretty charmes in towne? But stay, Who must I have to attend me? Lit. Is not that Yet thought upon. St. I have laid out for servants. Lit. They are every where. St. I cannot yet be furnish'd With such as I would put into his hands. Fr. Of what condition must they be, and how Many in number sir? Lit. Beside your fencing, Your singing, dancing, riding, and French-master, Two may serve domesticke to be constant waiters Vpon a gentleman a foole, a pimpe. St. For these two officers I have enquird, And I am promisd a convenient whiskin, I could save charges, and employ the Pye wench That carries her intelligence in whitepots, Or tis but taking order with the woman That holds the ballads, she could fit him with A concubin to any tune, but I Have a designe to place a fellow with him That has read all Sir Pandarus workes, a Trojan That lies conceal'd, and is acquainted with Both citty and subrbian fripperies Can fetch em with a spell at midnight to him, And warrant which are for his turne, can for A neede supply the Surgeon too. Fre. I like Thy providence, — such a one deserves a livery twice a yeare▪ St. It shanot need, a cast suite of your worships Will serve, he'le find a cloke to cover it Out of his share with those he brings to bed to you. Fre. But must I call this fellow Pimpe? Lit. It is Not necessary, or Iacke, or Harry, Or what hees knowne abroad by will sound better, That men may thinke he is a Christian. Fre. But heare you Mr. Littleworth, is there not A method and degrees of title in Men of this at. Lit. According to the honour Of men that do employ em. An Emperour May give this office to a Duke, A King May have his Viceroy to negotiate for him, A Duke may use a Lord, the Lord a Knight A Knight may trust a gentleman, and when They are abroad, and merry, gentlemen May pimpe to one another. Fre. Good, good fellowship! But for the foole now, that should waite on me, And breake me jeasts. Lit. A foole is necessary. St. By any meanes. Fre. But which of these two servants Must now take place. Lit. That question Mr. Fredericke The schoole of Heraldry should conclude upon; But if my judgement may be heard the foole Is your firstman, and it is knowne a point Of state to have a foole. St. But sir the other Is held the finer servant, his employments Are full of trust, his person cleaue, and nimble, And none so soone can leape into preferment Where fooles are poore. Lit. Not all, theres story for't, Princes have beene no wier than they should be, Would any noble man, that were no foole Spend all in hope of the Philosophers stone, To buy new Lordships in another countrey, Would Knights build Colledges, or gentlemen Of good states, challenge the field and fight Because a whore wo'not be honest, come, Fooles are a family over all the world; We doe affect one naturally, indeede The foole is Leiger with us. St. Then the Pimpe Is extraordinary. Fre. Doe not you fall out About their places; here's my noble Aunt Enter Aretina. Lit. How doe you like your nephew Madam now? Are. Well, turne about Fredericke, very well. Are. Am I not now a proper gentleman? The vertue of rich clothes! now could I take The wall of Iulius Cesar, affront Great Pompeys upperlip, and defie the Senate, Nay I can be as proud as your owne heart Madam, You may take that for your comfort; J put on That vertue with my clothes, and J doubt not But in little time, J shall be impudent As any Page or Players boy, J am Beholding to this gentlemans good discipline, But J shall doe him credit in my practise, Your Steward has some pretty notions too In morall mischiefe. Are. Your desert in this Exceedes all other service, and shall bind me Both to acknowledge, and reward. Lit. Sweet Madam! Thinke me but worth your favour, J wo'd creepe Vpon my knees to honour you, and for every Minute you lend to my reward, ile pay A yeare of serviceable tribute. Are. You Can complement. Lit. Thus still she puts me off, Vnlesse J speake the downe right word, she'le never Vnderstand me, a man would thinke that creeping Vpon one's knees Were English to a Lady. Enter Alex. Ale. How ist Iacke? Pleasures attend you Madam, How does my plant of honour? Are. Who is this? Al. Tis Alexander. Are. Rich and glorious! Lit. Tis Alexander the great. Ale. And my Bucephalus Waites at the doore. Are. Your case is alterd sir. Ale. J cannot helpe these things, the Faes will have it, Tis not my land does this. Lit. But thou hast a plough That brings it Are. Now he lookes brave and lovely. Fre. Wel my gallant Macedonian. Al. Madam you gave your Nephew for my pupill, I rea'd but in a taverne, if you'le horrour us, The Beare at the bridge foote shall entertaine you, A drawer is my Ganimd, he shall skinke Briske Nectar to us, we will onely have A dozen Partridge in a dish, as many Phesants, Quailes, Cockes and Godwits, shall come marching up Like the train'd band, a fort of Sturgeon Shall give most bold defiance to an army, And triumph ore the table. Are. Sir, it will But dull the appetite to heare more, and mine Must be excusd, another time I may Be your guest. Ale. Tis growne in fashion now with Ladies, When you please ile attend you; Littleworth Come Fredericke. Fre. Weele have musicke, I love noise, We will out roare the Thames and shake the bridge boy. Ex. Lit. Madam I kisse your hand, wod you wod thinke Of your poore servant, flesh and bloud is fraile, And trouble some to carry without helpe. Are. A coach will easily convey it, or You may take water at strand bridge. Lit. But I Have taken fire. Are. The Thames will coole. Lit. But never quench my heart, your charitie Can onely doe that! Are. I will keepe it cold Of purpose, Lit. Now you blesse me, and I date Be drunke in expectation. Are. I am confident He knowes me not, and I were worse than mad To be my owne betrayer, hre's my husband. Enter Born. Bor. Why, how now Aretina? What alone? The mystery of this solitude? my house Turne desart o'the sudaine, all the gamsters Blowne up? Why is the musicke put to silence? Or ha their instruments caught a cold, since we Gave e'm the last heate? I must know thy ground Of Melancholy. Are. You are merry, as You came from kissing Celestina. Bor. I Feele her yet warme upon my lip, she is Most excellent company, I did not thinke There was that sweetnesse in her sexe, I must Acknowledge twas thy cure to disinchant me From a dull husband to an active lover, With such a Lady, I could spend more yeeres, Than since my birth my glasse hath run minutes, And yet be young, her presence has a spell To keepe off age, she has an eye would strike Fire through an adamant. Are. I have heard as much Bestow'd upon a dull fac'd chambermaid Whom love and wit would thus commend, true beauty Is mock'd when we compare thus, it selfe being Above what can be fetch'd to make it lovely, Or could our thoughts reach some thing to declare The glories of a face, or bodies elegance, That touches but our sense, when beauty spreads Over the soule, and calls up understanding To looke when thence is offer'd, and admire, In both I must acknowledge Celestina Most excellently faire, faire above all The beauties I ha seene, and one most worthy Mans love and wonder. Bor. Doe you speake Aretina, This with a pure sence to commend, or i The mockery of my praise Aret. Although it shame My selfe, I must be just, and give her all The excellency of women, and were I A man. Bo. What then? Are. I know not with what losse, I should attempt her love, she is a peece So angellically moving, I should thinke Frailty excusd to dote upon her forme, And almost vertue to be wicked with her. Exit. Bor. What should this meane? this is no jealousie, Or she beleeves I counterfeit, I feele Something within me, like a heate, to give Her cause, would Celestina but consent, What a fraile thing is man, it is not worth Our glory to be chaste, while we deny Mirth and converse with women, he is good That dares the tempter, ye corrects his bloud. Exit. Celestina, Mariana, Issabella. Cel. I have told you all my knowledge since he is pleasd To invite himselfe he shall be entertaind, And you shall be my witnesses. Mar. Who comes with him. Cel. Sir William Sentlove, that prepard me for The honourable encounter, I expect His Lordship every minute. Enter Sentlove. Sent. My Lord is come. Enter Lord. Hairecut. Cel. He has honord me. Se. My Lord your periwig is awry▪ Lo You sir — While Hairecut is busie about his haire, Sentlove goes to Celestina. Sent. You may guesse, at the gentleman thats with him. It is his Barbar, Madam, dee observe And your Ladiship want a shaver. Hai. She is here sir, I am betraid Sentlove your plot, I may Have opportunity to be reveng'd Exit. Sent. She in the midst. Lo. She's faire, I must confesse, But does she keepe this distance out of state. Cel. Though I am poore in language to expresse How much your Lordship honors me, my heart Is rich and proud in such a guest, I shall Be out of love with every aire abroad, And for his grace done my unworthy house, Be a fond prisoner, become anchorite, And spend my houres in prayer, to reward The blessing, and the bounty of this presence. Lor. Though you could turne each place you move in▪ to A temple, rather than a wall should hide So rich a beauty from the world, it were Lesse want to lose our piety and your prayer, A throne were fitter to present you to Our wonder, whence your eyes more worth than all They looke on, should chaine every heart a prisoner. Sent. Twas pretty well come off. Lo. By your example I shall know how to complement, in this You more confirme my welcome. Cel. I shall love My lippes the better, if their silent language Perswade your Lordship but to thinke so truely. Lo. You make me smile Madam. Cel. I hope you came not With feare that any sadnesse here should shake One blossome from your eye, I should be miserable To present any object should displease you. Lo. You doe not Madam. Cel. As I should account It no lesse sorrow, if your Lordship should Lay too severe a censure on my freedome. I wonot court a Prince against his justice, Nor bribe him with a smile to thinke me honest, Pardon my Lord this boldnesse, and the mirth That may flow from me, I beleeve my father Thought of no winding sheete when he begot me. Lor. She has a merry soule, it will become Me aske your pardon Madam for my rude Approach so much a stranger to your knowledge. Cel. Not my Lord so much stranger to my knowledge, Though I have but seene your person a farre oft, I am acquianted with your character, Which I have heard so often, I can speake it. Lo. You shall doe me an honor. Cel. If your Lordship will Be patient. Lo. And glad to heare my faults. Cel. That as your conscience can agree upon em, How ever if your Lordship give me priviledge, Ile tell you whats the opinion of the world. Lo. You cannot please me better. Cel. Y'are a Lord Borne with as much nobilitie as would Divided serve to make ten noble men Without a Herald, but with so much spirit, And height of soule, as well might furnish twenty. You are learnd, a thing not compatible now With native honour, and are master of A language that doth chaine all yeares, and charme All hearts, where you perswade, a wit so flowing And prudence to correct it, that all men Beleeve they onely meete in you, which with A spacious memory make up the full wonders; To these you have knowne valour, and upon A noble cause, know how to use a sword To honors best advantage, though you were none; You are as bountifull, as the showers that fall Into the Springs greene besome; as you were Created Lord of fortune, not her steward; So constant to the cause, in which you make Your selfe an advocate, you dare all dangers, And men had rather you should be their friend, Than justice or the bench, bound up together. Lor. But did you heare all this. Cel. And more my Lord. Lor. Pray let me have it Madam. Cel. To all these vertues, there is added one, (Your Lordship will remember when I name it, I speake but what I gather from the voyce Of others) it is growne to a full fame That you have lov'd a woman. Lo. But one Madam? Cel. Yes many, give me leave to smile my Lord, I shall not neede to interpret in what sence, But you have shewd your selfe right honorable, And for your love to Ladies have deserv'd, If their vote might prevaile a marble statue, I make no comment on the peoples text. My Lord I should be sorry to offend. Lor. You cannot Madam, these are things we owe To nature for. Cel. And honest men will pay Their debts. Lo. If they be able, or compound. Cel. She had a hard heart, would be unmercifull, And not give day to men so promising, But you ow'd women nothing, Lo. Yes I am Still in their debt, and I must owe them love, It was part of my character. Cel. With your Lordships Pardon I onely said, you had a fame For loving women, but of late men say You have against the imperiall lawes of love, Restraind the active flowings of your bloud, And with a Mistris buried all that is Hop'd for in loves succession, as all beauty Had died with her, and left the world benighted! In this you more dishonor all our sexe Than you did grace a part, when every where Love tempts your eye to admire a glorious harvest, And every where as full blowne eares submit Their golden heads, the laden trees bow downe Their willing fruit, and court your amorous tasting. Lor. I see men would dissect me to a fibre, But doe you beleeve this? Cel. It is my wonder! I must confesse a man of nobler earth Then goes to vulgar composition, Borne and bred high, so unconfind, so rich In fortunes, and so read in all that summe Vp humane knowledge, to feed gloriously, And live at court, the onely spheare wherein True beauty moves, natures most wealthy garden, Where every blossome is more worth, than all The Hesperian fruite, by jealous Dragon watch'd Where all delights doe circle appetite, And pleasures multiply by being tasted,) Should be so lost with thought of one, turne ashes. There's nothing left my Lord that can excuse you, Vnlesse you pleade, what I am asham'd to prompt Your wisedome too? Lo. What that? Cel. That you have plaid The Surgeon with your selfe Lo. And am made Eunuch. Cel. It were much pitty. Lo. Trouble not your selfe, I could convince your feares with demonstration That I am man enough, but knew not where Vntill this meeting beauty dwelt; the court You talk'd of must be where the queene of love is, Which moves but with your person, in your eye Her glory shines, and onely at that flame Her wanton boy doth light his quickning torch. Cel. Nay now you complement, I would it did My Lord for your owne sake. Lor. You would be kind, And love me then. Cel. My Lord I should be loving Where I found worth to invite it, and should cherish A constant man. Lor. Then you should me Madam. Cel. But is the ice about your heart fallen off, Can you returne to doe what love commands? Cupid thou shall have instand sacrifice. And I dare be the Priest. Lor. Your hand, your lip, Now I am proofe gainst all temptation. Cel Your meaning my good Lord. Lor. I that have strength Against thy voyce and beauty, after this May dare the charmes of womankind, thou art Bella Maria unprophaned yet, This Magicke has no power upon my bloud. Farewell Madam, if you durst be the example Of chaste as well as faire, thou wert a brave one. Cel. I hope your Lordship meanes not this for earnest, Be pleasd to grace a banquer. Lo. Pardon Madam. Will Sentlove follow, I must laugh at you. Cel. My Lord I must beseech you stay, for honour For her whose memory you love best. Lo. Your pleasure. Cel. And by that vertue you have now profest, I charge you to beleeve me too, I can Now glory, that you have beene worth my triall, Which I beseech you pardon, had not you So valiantly recoverd in this conflict, You had beene my triumph, without hope of more Than my just scorne upon your wanton flame; Nor will I thinke these noble thoughts grew first From melancholy, for some femall losse, As the phantasticke world beleeves, but from Truth, and your love of Innocence, which shine So bright in the two royall luminaries At Court, you cannot lose your way to chastitie, Proceede, and speake of me as honour guides you. Exit Lord. I am almost tir'd, come Ladies weele beguile Dull time, and take the aire annother while. Exeunt. The fifth Act. Enter Aretina and Servant. Are. But hath Sir Thomas lost five hundred pounds Already? Ser. And five hundred more he borrow'd, The Dice are notable devourers Madam, They make no more of peeces, than of pebbles, But thrust their heapes together to engender, Two hundred more the Caster cries this gentleman, I am w'ee. I ha that to nothing sir, the Caster Agen, tis covered, and the table too, With summes that frighed me, here one speakes out, And with a Martyrs patience, smiles upon His moneyes Executioner, the Dice, Commands a pipe of good Tobacco, and I'th smoke on't vanishes; another makes The bones vault ore his head, sweares that ill throwing Has put his shoulder out of joynt calls for A bone setter that lookes to'th boxe, to bid His master send him some more hundred pounds, Which lost, he takes tobacco, and is quiet; Here a strong arme throwes in, and in, with which He brusheth all the table, payes the Rookes That went their smelts a peece upon his hand, Yet sweares he has not drawne a stake this seven yeare. But I was bid make haste▪ my master may Lose this five hundred pound ere I come thither. Exit. Are. If we both waste so fast, we shall soone finde Our state is not immortall, some thing in His other wayes appeare not well already. Enter sir Thomas. Bor. Yee Tortoises, why make you no more haste, Go pay to'th master of the house that money, And tell the noble gamsters, I have another Superfuous thousand pound, at night ile visit em. Dee heare? Ser. Yes and please you. Bor Doo't ye drudges, Ta ra ra— Aretina. Ar. You have a pleasant humor sir. Bor. What should a gentleman be sad? Ar. You have lost. Bor. A transitory summe, as good that way As another. Are. Doe you not vexe within for't? Bor. I had rather lose a thousand more, than one Sad thought come neere my heart fort, vexe for trash, Although it goe from othermen like drops. Of their life bloud, we lose with the alacrity, Wee drinke a cup of sacke, or kisse a Mistris, No money is considerable with a gamster, They have soules more spacious than Kings, did two Gamsters divide the Empire of the world They d make one throw for't all, and he that lost Be no more melancholy, then to have plai'd for A morning draught, vexe a rich soule for dirt, The quiet of whose every thought is worth A Province: Are. But when Dice have consumd all; Your patience will not pawne for as much more. Bor. Hang pawning, sell outright, and the feares over. Are. Say you so? I'le have another coach to morrow If there be rich above ground. Bor. I forgot To bid the fellow aske my Jeweller, Whether the chaine of Diamonds be made up, I will present it to my Lady Bellamour, Faire Celestina. Are. This gowne J have worne Sixe dayes already, it lookes dull, ile give it My waiting woman, and have one of cloth of gold enbrodered, shooes and pantables Will show well of the same. Bor. I have invited A covey of Ladies, and as many gentlemen To morrow to the Italian Ordinary, I shall have rarities, and regalli as To pay for Madam, musicke, wanton songs, And tunes of silken petticotes to dance to. Are. And to morrow have I invited halfe the Court To dine here, what misfortune tis your company And ours should be devided? after dinner J entertaine e'm with a play. Bor. By that time Your play inclines to the Epilogue, shall we quit our Italian host, and whirle in coaches, To the Douch Magazine of sawce, the Stillyard, Where deale, and backragge, and what strange wine else, They dare but give a name too in the reckoning Shall flow into our roome, and drowne Westphalias, Tongues, and Anchoavis, like some little towne Endangered by a sluce, through whose fierce ebbe We wade and wash our selves into a boate, And bid our Coachmen drive their leather tenements By land, while we saile home with a fresh tide To some new randevous. Are. If you have not Pointed the place, pray bring your Ladies hither, J meane to have a Ball to morrow night, And a rich banquet for e'm, where we'le dance Till morning rise, and blush to interrupt us. Bor. Have you no Ladies i'th next roome, to advance A present mirth? What a dull house you governe? Farewell, a wife's no company—Aretina, J've summ'd up my estate, and find we may have A month good yet▪ Are. What meane you? Bo. And J do rather Be Lord one moneth of pleasures, to the height And rapture of our senses, than be yeares, Consuming what we have in foolish temperance, Live in the darke, and no fame waite upon us, I will live so, posterity shall stand At gaze when I am mentioned. Are. A mon'th good, And what shall be done then. Bor. Ile over Sea, And traile a pike, with watching, marching, lying In trenches, with enduring cold, and hunger, And taking here and there a musketshot, I can earne every weeke foure shillings Madam, And if the bullets favour me to snatch Any superfluous limbe, when I returne With good friends, I despaire not to be entold Poore Knight of Windsore; for your course Madam, No doubt you may doe well, your friends are great, Or if your poverty, and their pride cannot Agree, you neede not trouble much invention, To find a trade to live by, there are customers, Farewell, be frolicke Madam, if I live I will feast all my senses, and not fall Lesse than a Phaeton from my throne of Pleasure, Though my estate flame like the world about me. Are. Tis very pretty. Enter Decoy. Madam Decoy. De. What melancholy Exit. After so sweet a nights worke? Have not I Shew'd my selfe Mistris of my art. Are. A Lady. De. That title makes the credit of the act A story higher, y'ave not seene him yet, I wonder what hee'le say. Are. He's here. Ale. Beare up Enter Alexander and Fredericke. My little Mirmidan, does not Iacke Littleworth Follow? Fre. Follow? He fell into the Thames At landing. Alex. The devill shall dive for him Ere I endanger my silke stockings for him, Let the Watermen alone, they have drags and engins, When he has drunke his Julip, I shall laugh To see him come in pickeld the next tide. Fre. Hee'le never sinke, he has such a corke braine. Ale. Let him be hang'd or drown'd alls one to me, Yet he deserves to die by water, cannot Beare his wine credibly. Fre. Is not this my Aunt? Ale. And another hansome Lady, I must know her. Fre. My bloud is rampant too, I must court some body, As good my Aunt, as any other body. Are. Where have you beene cozen? Fre. At the bridge, At the Beares foote, where our first health began To the faire Aretina, whose sweet company Was wished by all, we could not get a lay, a Tumbler, a Device, a bona roba For any money, drawers were growne dull; We wanted our true firkes and our vagaries; When were you in drinke Aunt? Are. How? Fr. Do not Ladies Play the good fellowes too? there's no true mirth Without e'm, I have now such tickling fancies, That Doctour of the chaire of wit, has read A precious lecture, how I should behave My selfe to Ladies, as now for example. Are. Would you practise upon me? Fre. I first salute you, You have a soft hand Madam, are you so All over? Are. Nephew. Fre. Nay you should but smile, And then agen I kisse you; and thus draw Off your white glove, and start to see your hand More excellently white, I grace my owne Lip with this touch, and turning gently thus, Prepare you for my skill in Palmistry, Which out of curiosity no Lady But easily applies too, the first line I tooke with most ambition to find out, Is Venus girdle, a faire semicircle Enclosing both the mount of Sol and Saturne, If that appeare, she's for my turne, a Lady Whom nature has prepar'd for the careere, And Cupid at my elbow, I put forward, You have this very line, Aunt. Are. The boy's franticke. Fre. You have a Couch or Palate, I can shut The Chamber doore, enrich a stranger when Your Nephew's comming into play. Are. No more. Fre. Are you so coy to your owne flesh and bloud? Al. Here take your playfellow, I talke of sport, And she would have me marry her. Fre. Heres Littleworth. Enter Littleworth wet. Why how now Tutour? Lit. I ha beene fishing. Fr. And what ha you caught? Lit. My belly full of water. Al. Ha ha, wheres thy rapier? Lit. My rapier's is drown'd, And I am little better, I was up bi'th heeles, And out came a tun of water beside wine. Al. 'Thas made thee sober. Lit. Would you have me drunk With Water? Are. I hope your fire is quenched by this time. Fre. It is not now, as when your worship walkd By all the tavernes Iacke, drie as a bone. Al. You had store of fish under water Iacke. Lit. It has made a poore Iohn of me. Fre. J doe not thinke but if we cast an angle Jnto his belly, we might find some Pilchards. Lit. And boild by this time, deere Madam a bed. Al. Carry but the water Spaniel to a grasseplot Where he may roule himselfe, let him but shake His eares twice in the Sunne, and you may grind him Into a posset. Fre. Come thou shalt to my bed Poore pickerell. De. Alas sweete gentleman. Lit. I have ill lucke, and I should smell by this time, I am but new tane I am sure, sweet gentlewoman. De. Your servant. Lit. Pray doe not plucke off my skin, It is so wet, unlesse you have good eyes You'le hardly know it from a shirt. De. Feare nothing. Are. He has sacke enough, and I may find his humor. Exeunt. Al. And how ist with your Ladiship? you looke Without a sunshine in your face. Are. You are glorious In mind and habit. Al. Ends of gold and silver. Are. Your other clothes were not so rich, who was Your tailor sir? Al. They were made for me long since, They have knowne but two bright dayes upon my backe, I had a humor Madam to lay things by, They will serve two dayes more, I thinke I ha gold enough To goe to'th Mercr, Ile now allow my selfe A suite a weeke as this, with necessary Dependances, Beaver, silke stockings, garters, And roses in their due conformitie, Bootes are forbid a cleane legge, but to ride in, My linnen every morning comes in new, The old goes too great bellies. Ar. You are charitable. Al. I may dine w'ee sometime, or at the Court To meete good company, not for the table, My Clarke o'th Kitchins here, a witty Epicure, A spirit that to please me with whats rare Can flie a hundred mile a day to market, And make me Lord of Fish and Foule, I shall Forget there is a butcher, and to make My footmen nimble, he shall feede on nothing But wings of wildfoule. Are. These wayes are costly. Al. Therefore Ile have it so, I ha sprung a mine. Are. You make me wonder sir, to see this change Of fortune, your revenew was not late So plentifull. Al. Hang durty land and Lordships, I wonot change one lodging I ha got For the Chamber of London. Are. Strange of such a sudden, To rise to this estate, no fortunate hand At dice could lift you up so, for tis since Last night, yesterday, you were no such Monarke. Al. There be more games then dice. Are. It cannot be A Mistris, though your person is worth love, None possibly are rich enough to feed As you have cast the method of your riots, A Princesse, after all her Jewels must Be forc'd to sell her provinces. Al. Now you talke Of Jewels? What doe you thinke of this? Are. A rich one. Al. You'le honour me to wear't, this other toy I had from you, this chaine I borrowed of you, A friend had it in keeping, if your Ladiship Want any summe, you know your friend and Alexander▪ Are. Dare you trust my security. Al. There's gold, I shall have more to morrow. Are. You astonish me, who can supply these? Al. A deare friend I have, She promisd we should meete agen i'th morning. Are. Not that I wish to know More of your happinesse, then I have aready Heart to congratulate, be pleasd to lay My wonder. Al. Tis a secret. Are. Which ile die Ere Ile betray. Al. You have alwayes wish'd me well, But you shall sweare not to reveale the partie. Are. Ile lose the benefit of my tongue. Alex. Nor be A fraid at what I say, what thinke you first Of an old Witch, a strange ill favor'd hag That for my company last night, has wrought This cure upon my fortune? I doe sweat To thinke upon her name. Are How sir a Witch? Ale. I would not fright your Ladiship too much At first, but Witches are a kin to Spirits, The truth is— nay if you looke pale already, I ha done. Are. Sir I beseech you. Ale. If you have But courage then to know the truth, ile tell you In one word, my chiefe friend is the devill. Are. What devill? How I tremble. Ale. Have a heart, Twas a shee divell too, a most insatiate Abominable devill with a taile Thus long. Are. Goodnesse defend me, did you see her? Al. No twas i'th darke, but she appeard first to me I'th likenesse of a Bedlam, and was brought I know not how, nor whither, by two Goblins, More hooded than a Hawke. Are. But would you venter Vpon a devill? Al. I for meanes. Are. How blacke An impudence is this? But are you sure It was the devill you enjoy'd. Al. Say nothing, I did the best to please her, but as sure As you live, twas a Helcat. Are. De'e not quake? Al. I found my selfe the very same in i'th morning, Where two of her familiars had left me. Enter Servant. Ser. My Lord is come to visite you. Al. No words, As you respect my safety, I ha told tales Out of the devills schoole, if it be knowne I lose a friend, tis now about the time I promis'd her to meete agen, at my Returne Ile tell you wonders, not a word. Exit. Are. Tis a false glasse, sure I am more deform'd, What have I done, my soule is miserable. Enter Lord. Lor. I sent you a letter Madam. Are. You exprest Your noble care of me my Lord. Enter Bornwell, Celestina. Bor. Your Lordship Does me an honour. Lor. Madam I am glad To see you here, I meant to have kist your hand Ere my returne to Court. Cel. Sir Thomas has Prevaild to bring me to his trouble hither. Lor. You doe him grace. Bor. Why whats the matter Ma∣dam? Your eyes are tuning Lachrimae. Are. As you Doe hope for heaven withdraw, and give me but The patience of ten minutes. Born. Wonderfull! I wonot heare you above that proportion, Shee talkes of heaven, come, where must we to counsell? Ar. You shall conclude me when you please. Bo. I follow. Lor. What alteration is this? I that so late Stood the temptation of her eye, and voyce, Boasted a heart, 'bove all licentious flame, At second veiw turne renegade, and thinke I was too superstitious, and full Of phlegme not to reward her amorous Courtship With manly freedome. Cel. I obey you sir. Bor. Ile waite upon your Lordship presently. Lor. She could not want a cunning to seeme honest When I neglected her, I am resolv'd, You still looke pleasant Madam. Cel. I have cause My Lord, the rather for your presence, which Hath power to charme all trouble in my thoughts. Lor. I must translate that complement and owe All that is cheerefull in my selfe to these All quickning smiles, and rather than such bright Eyes should repent their influence upon me, I would release the aspects, and quit the bountie Of all the other starres; Did you not thinke me A strange and melancholy gentleman To use you so unkindly. Cel. Me my Lord? Lor. I hope you made no loude complaint, I wod not Be tride by a Jury of Ladies. Cel. For what my Lord? Lor. I did not meete that noble entertainment, You were late pleasd to shew me. Cel. I observd No such defect in your Lorship, but a brave And noble fortitude. Lor. A noble folly I bring repentance fort, I know you have Madam a gentle faith, and wonot ruine What you have built to honour you. Cel. Whats that? Lor. If you can love ile tell your Ladiship. Cel. I have a stubborne soule else. Lor. You are all Composd of harmony. Cel. What love de'e meane▪ Lor. That which doth perfect both, Madam you have heard I can be constant, and if you consent To grace it so, there is a spacious dwelling Prepar'd within my heart for such a Mistrisse. Cel. Your Mistris, my good Lord? Lor. Why my good Lady? Your sexe doth hold it no dishonour To become Mistris to a noble servant In the now court, Platonicke way, consider Who tis that pleades to you, my birth, and present Value can be no staine to your embrace, But these are shadowes when my love appeares, Which shall in his first miracle returne Me in my bloome of youth, and thee a Virgin, When I within some new Elisium Of purpose made and meant for us, shall be In every thing Adonis, but in his Contempt of love, and court thee from a Daphne Hid in the cold rinde of a bashfull tree, With such warme language, and delight, till thou Leape from that bayes into the queene of love, And pay my conquest with composing garlands Of thy owne mirtle for me. Cel. Whats all this? Lor. Consent to be my Mistris Celestina, And we will have it Spring-time all the yeare, Vpon whose invitations when we walke, The windes shall play soft descant to our feete, And breathe rich odors to repure the aire, Greene bowers on every side shall tempt our stay, And Violets stoope to have us treade upon em. The red rose shall grow pale, being neere thy cheeke, And the white blush orecome with such a forehead, Here laid, and measuring with our selves some banke, A thousand birds shall from the woods repaire. And place themselves so cunningly, behinde The leaves of every tree, that while they pay As tribute of their songs, thou shat imagine The very trees beare musicke, and sweet voyces Doe grow in every arbour, here can we Embrace and kisse, tell tales, and kisse agen, And none but heaven our rivall. Cel. When we are Weary of these, what if we shift our Paradise? And through a grove of tall and even pine, Descend into a Vally, that shall shame All the delights of Tempe, upon whose Greene plush the graces shall be cald to dance To please us, and maintaine their Fairy revells, To the harmonious murmurs of a streame That gently falls upon a rocke of pearle, Here doth the Nimph forsaken Eccho dwell, To whom we'le tell the story of our love, Till at our surfet and her want of joy, We breake her heart with envy, not farre off A grove shall call us to a wanton river, To see a dying Swan give up the ghost, The fishes shooting up their teares in bubbles That they must lose the Genius of their waves, And such love linsey woolsey, to no purpose. Lor. You chide me hansomely, pray tell me how You like this language. Cel. Good my Lord forbeare. Lor. You neede not flie out of this circle Madam, These widowes so are full of circumstance, Ile undertake in this time I ha courted Your Ladiship for the toy, to ha broken ten, Nay twenty colts, Virgins I meane, and taught em The amble, or what pace I most affected. Cel. Y'are not my Lord agen, the Lord I thought you. And I must tell you now, you doe forget Your selfe and me. Lor. You'le not be angry Madam. Cel Nor rude, though gay men have a priviledge, It shall appeare, there is a man my Lord Within my acquaintance, rich in worldly fortunes, But cannot boast any descent of bloud, Would buy a coate of armes. Lor. He may, and legges booted and spurr'd to ride into the countrey. Cel. But these will want antiquitie: my Lord The seale of honour, whats a coate cut out But yesterday to mae a man a gentleman? Your family as old, as the first vertue That merited an Escucheon, doth owe A glorious coat of armes, if you will sell now All that your name doth challenge in that ensigne, Il helpe you to a chapman, that shall pay And powre downe wealth enough fort. Lor. Sell my armes? I cannot Madam. Cel. Give but your consent, You know not how the state may be enclind To dispensation, we may prevaile Vpon the Heralds office afterward. Lor. Ile sooner give these armess to'th hangmans axe, My head, my heart, to twenty executions Than sell one atome from my name. Cel. Change that, And answer him would buy my honour from me. Honour that is not worne upon a flagge Or pennon, that without the owners dangers, An enemy may ravish, and beare from me, But that which growes and withers with my soule, Beside the bodies staine, think, thinke my Lord To what you would unworthily betray me, If you would not for price of gold, or pleasure, (If that be more your idoll) lose the glory And painted honour of your house — I ha done. Lor. Enough to rectifie a Satires bloud, Obscure my blushes here. Enter Sentlove and Hairecut. Ha. Or this or sight with me, It shall be no exception that I waite Vpon my Lord, I am a gentleman, You may be lesse and bea Knight, the office, I doe my Lord is honest sir, how many Such you have beene guilty of, heaven knowes. Sent. Tis no feare of your sword, but that I wod not Breake the good lawes established against duells. Ha. Oft with your periwig, and stand bare. Lor. From this Minute ile be a servant to thy goodnesse, A Mistris in the wanton sence is common, Ile honor you with chaste thoughts, and call you so. Cel Ile study to be worth your faire opinion. Lor. Sent love, your head was usd to a covering, Beside a hat, when went the haire away. Sent. I laid a wager my Lord with Hairecut, Who thinkes I shall catch cold, that ile stand bare This halfe houre. Ha. Pardon my ambition Madam, I told you truth, I am a gentleman, And cannot feare that name is drown'd in my Relation to my Lord. Cel. I dare not thinke so. Ha. From henceforth call my service duty Madam, That Pigges head that betraid me to your mirth, Is doing penance for't. Sent. Why may not I My Lord begin a fashion of no haire. Cel. Doe you sweat sir william. Sent. Not with store of nightcaps. Enter Aretina, Bornwell. Are. Heaven has dissolv'd the clouds that hung upon My eyes, and if you can with mercy meet A penitent, I throw my owne will off, And now in all things obey yours, my nephew Send backe agen to'th colledge, and my selfe To what place you'le confine me. Bor. Dearer now Than ever to my bosome, thou shat please Me best to live at thy owne choice, I did But fright thee with a noise of my expences, The summes are safe, and we have wealth enough, If yet we use it nobly? My Lord— Madam, Pray honour to night. Are. I begge your presence, And pardon. Bor. I know not how my Aretina May be disposd to morrow for the country. Cel You must not goe, before you both have done Me honour to accept an entertainment, Where I have power, on those termes I'me your guest. Bor. You grace us Madam. Are. Already I feele a cure upon my soule, and promise My after life to vertue, pardon heaven, My shame yet hid from the worlds eye. De. Sweet Madam. Enter decoy. Ar. Not for the world be seene here, we are lost, Ile visite you at home; but not to practise What she expects, my counsell may recover her. Enter Alexander. Al. Wheres Madam? pray lend me a little money, My spirit has deceiv'd me, Proserpine Has broke her word. Are. Doe you expect to find The devill true to you. Al. Not too loud. Are. Ile voyce it Louder, to all the world your horrid sinne, Vnlesse you promise me religiously, To purge your foule bloud by repentance sir. Al. Then I'me undone. Are. Not while I have power To encourage you to vertue, ile endeavour To find you out some nobler way at Court To thrive in. Al. Doo't, and ile forsake the devill, And bring my flesh to obedience; you shall steere me, My Lord — your servant. Lor. You are brave agen. Al. Madam your pardon. Bor. Your offence requires Humility. Al. Low as my heart. Sir Thomas Ile sup with you, a part of satisfaction. Bor. Our pleasures coole, musicke, and when our Ladies Are tired with active motion, to give Them rest in some new rapture to advance Full mirth, our soules shall leape into a dance. Exeunt. FINIS.