ACT. 1. SCEN. 1.
Enter Young Pallatine, Meager, Pert. Young Pallatine.
WElcome o'shore Meager! Give me thy hand!
Tis a true one, and will no more forsake
A Bond, or Bill, then a good Sword; a hand
That will shift for the Body, till the Lawes
Provide for both.
Meag.
Old Wine, and new Cloathes Sir,
Make you wanton! D'you not see Pert, my Comrade?
Yo: Pallat.
Ambiguous Pert! hast thou danc'd to the Drum too?
Could a Taffta scarfe, a long Estridge whing,
A stiffe Iron Doublet, and a Brazeele Pole
Tempt thee from Cambrick sheets, fine active Thighs,
From Caudles where the precious Amber swims?
Pert.
Faith, wee have been to kill, wee know not whom,
Nor why: Led on to break a Commandement,
With the consent of Custom and the Lawes.
Meag.
Mine was a certaine inclination Sir
To doe mischiefe, where good men of the Iury,
And a dull Congregation of gray Beards
Might urge no tedious Statute 'gainst my life!
Yo: Pallat.
Nothing but Honor could seduce thee, Pert!
Honor! which is the hope of the Youthfull,
And the old Souldiers wealth, a jealousie
To the Noble, and mist'ry to the wise.
Pert.
It was Sir, no Geographicall fancie
(Cause in our Maps, I lik'd this Region here
More than that Countrey lying there) made mee
Partiall which to fight for.
Yo: Pallat.
True, sage Pert.
What is't to thee whether one Don Diego
A Prince, or Hans van Holme, Fritter seller
Of Bombell, doe Conquer that Parapet,
Redout, or Towne, which thou nere saw'st before?
Pert.
Not a brasse Thimble to mee! but Honor!—
Yo: Pallat.
Why right! els wherfore shouldst thou bleed for him,
Whose Money, Wine, nor Wench, thou nere hast us'd?
Or why destroy some poore Root-eating Souldier,
That never gave thee the ly, deny'd to pledge
Thy Cockatrices health, nere spit upon
Thy Dog, jear'd thy Spur-leather, or return'd
Thy Tooth-pick ragged, which hee borrowed whole?
Pert.
Never to my knowledge!
Meag.
Comrade! tis time —
Yo: Pallat.
What, to unship your Trunkes at Billings gate?
Fierce Meager! why such haste? doe not I know,
That a Mouse yoak'd to a Pescod, may draw
With the fraile Cordage of one haire, your Goods
About the World?
Pert.
Why wee have Linnen Sir!
Yo. Pallat.
As much Sir as will fill a Tinder Box,
Or make a Frog a shirt. I like not friends,
This quiet, 'mo iest posture of your Shoulders!
Why stir you not, as you were practising
To Fence, or doe you hide your Cattell, least
The Skipper make you pay their passage over?
Pert.
Know Pallatine! Truth is a naked Lady,
Shee will shew all! Meager, and I have not—
Yo: Pall.
The Treasure of Saint Marks I believe Sir,
Though you are as rich as cast Servingmen,
Or Bawdes led thrice into Captivity!
Pert.
Thou hast a heart of the right stamp; I find
It is not comely in thine eyes, to see
Vs Sons of war walke by the pleasant Vines
Of Gascoiny, as wee believ'd the Grapes
Forbidden Fruit: sneake through a Taverne with
Remorse, as wee had read the Alcharon,
And made it our best Faith.
Meag.
And abstaine flesh,
As if our English Beefe were all reserv'd
For Sacrifice.
Pert
Whilst Colon keepes more noyse
Than Mariners at Playes, or Apple-wives
That wrangle for a Sive!
Meag.
Contribute, come!
Yo: Pallat.
Stand there close on you lives! here in this house
Lives a rich old Hen, whose young Egge. (though not
Of her owne laying) I have in the Embers!
Shee may prove a Morsell for a discreet Mouth,
If the kind Fates have but the leasure to
Betray the old one.
Pert.
Pallatine.
No plots upon generation; wee two
Have fasted so long, that wee cannot thinke
Of begetting any thing, unlesse
Like Cannibals, wee might eate our owne Issue.
Yo: Pallat.
I say close; shrinke in your Morions! goe!
Meager.
Why hidden thus? a Souldier may appeare.
Yo: Pallat.
Yes in a Sutlers Hut on the Pay-day:
But doe you know the silence of this house,
The gravity and awe? here dwels a Lady,
That hath not seene a street, since good King Harry
Cald her to a Masque: shee is more devout
Then a Weaver of Banbury, that hopes
T'intice Heaven (by singing) to make him Lord
Of twenty Loomes. I never saw her yet:
And to arrive at my preferment first,
In your sweet company will (I take it)
Add but little to my hopes. Retire! goe!
They step aside, whilst he cals betweene the Hangings
Pert.
We shall obey, but doe not tempt us now
With sweet meates for the neather Pallat! doe not—
Yo: Pallat.
VVhat Lucy! Luce! now is the old Beldame
Misleading her to a Cushion; where she
Must pray, and sigh, and fast, untill her knees
Grow smaller then her Knockles. Lucy! Luce.
No hope! she is undone! shele number o're
As many Orisons, as if she had
A Bushell of Beades to her Rosary!
Lucy! my Aprill love! my Mistresse speake! —
Enter Lucy.
Lucy.
Pallatine, for Heavens sake keepe in your voice!
My cruell Aunt will heare, and I am lost.
Yo: Pallat.
VVhat can she heare, when her old eares are uff'd
With as much warme waxe, as will seale nine Leases?
What a pox does she listning upon earth?
I'st not time for her t'affect privacie?
To creepe into a close darke Vault, there gossip.
With wormes, and such small tame creatures, as Heaven
Provided to accompany old People?
Lucy.
Still better'd unto worse! but that my heart
Consents not to disfigure thee, thou wouldst be torne
To pieces numberlesse as sand, or as
The doubts of guilt, or love, in Cowards are!
Yo: Pal.
How now Luce! from what strange coast this storm! hah!
Lucy.
Thou dost out-drinke the youth of Norway at
Their Marriage feasts, out-sweare a puny Gamster
When his first misfortune rages out quarrell,
One that rides post, and is stopt by a Cart:
Thy walking houres are later in the night,
Then those which Drawers, Traytors, or Constables
Thmselves doe keepe; for VVatchmen know thee better
Then their Lanthorne! and here's your Surgeons Bill,
Your kind thrift (I thanke you) hath sent it me
To pay, as if the poore exhibition
My Aunt allowes for Aprons, would maintaine
You in Seareclothes.—
Gives him a paper.
Meger.
Can the Daughters of Brabant
Talke thus when Younker-gheek leads'em to a Stove?
Pert.
I say (Meager) there is a small parcell
Of Man, that rebels more then all the rest
Of his body, and I shall need (if I
Stay here) no Elixer of Beefe to exalt
Nature, though I were leaner then a groat!
Yo: Pallat.
This Surgeon's a Rogue (Luce) a fellow Luce
That hath no more care of a Gentlemans
Credit, then of the Lint, he hath twice us'd!
Lucy.
VVell Sir, but what's that Instrument he names?
Yo: Pall
He writes down here for a toole of Injection
Luce, a small water Engine which I bought
For my Taylors Child to squirt at Prentises!
Luce.
I Sir, he sins more against wit then Heaven,
That knowes not how t'excuse what he hath done!
I shall be old at twenty Pallatine,
My griefe to see thy manners, and thy mind
Hath wrought so much upon my heart!
Yo: Pallat.
I'de as live keepe our Marriage Supper
In a Churchyard, and beget our Children
In a Coffin, as heare thee prophesie;
Luce, thou art drunke Luce; farre gone in Almond Milke,
Kisse me!—
Pert.
Now I dissolve like an Eringo?
Meager.
He's ploughing o'the Indies, good Gold appeare!
Yo: Pallat.
I am a new man Luce; thou shalt find me
In a Geneva-band, that was reduc'd
From an old Alder-mans Cuffe; no more haire left
Then will shakle a flea; this debash'd Whineyard,
I will reclaime to comely Bow and Arrowes,
And shoot with Haberdashers at Finsbury,
And be thought the Grand-child of Adam-Bell!
And more (my Luce) hang at my velvet Girdle,
A Booke wrapp'd in a greene Dimity Bagge,
And squire thy untooth'd Aunt to an exercise.
Lucy.
Nothing but strict Lawes, and age will tame you.
Yo: Pallat.
What money hast thou Luce?
Lucy.
I there's your busines.
Yo: Pallat.
It is the busines of the world: Injuries grow.
To get it, Iustice sits for the same end;
Men are not wise without it; for it makes
Wisedome knowne; and to be a Foole, and poore,
Is next t'old Aches and bad Fame; tis worse
Than to have six new Creditors, they each
Twelve Children, and not bread enough to make
The Landlord a Tost, when hee cals for Ale
And Rent. Think on that, and rob thy Aunts Trunks
Ere shee hath time to make an Inventory.
Pert.
A cunning Pioner! hee works to th'bottome.
Lucy.
Hast thou no taste of Heav'n? wert thou begot
In a Prison, and bred up in a Galley?
Yo: Pallat.
Luce! I speake like one that hath seene the Booke
Of Fate: I'm loath (for thy sake) to mount a Coach
With two wheeles; whilst the Damzels of the Shop
Cry out, A goodly strait chin'd Gentleman!
Hee dyes, for robbing an Atturnies Cloak-bag
Of Copper-seales, foule Night-caps, together
With his wives Bracelet of Mill-Testers!
Lucy.
There Sir!—
Flings him a Purse.
Tis gold! my Pendants, Carckanets, and Rings,
My Christning Caudle-cup, and Spoones
Are dissolv'd into that Lumpe. Nay, take all!
And with it as much anger as would make
Thy Mother write thee illegitemate!
See me no more! I will not stay to blesse
My gift; lest I should teach my patience suffer
Till I convert it into Sin.
Exit.
Yo: Pallat.
Temptations will not thrive. This Bagadge sleeps
Crosse legg'd, and the Devill has no more power
O're that charme, than dead Men o're their lewd Heires.
I must marry her, and spend my revenue
In Cradles, Pins, and Sope! That's th'end of all
That scape a deepe River, and a tall Bough.
Meag.
Pallatine! How much?
Pert.
Honorable Pall!
Yo: Pallat.
Gentlemen, you must accept without gaging
Your corporall Oathes, to repay in three dayes!
Pert.
Not wee (Pall) in three Iubilies, feare not!
Yo: Pallat.
Nor shall you charge mee with loud vehemence
(Thrice before company) to wait you in
My chamber such a night; for then, a certaine
Drover of the South comes to pay you money!
Meag.
On our new Faithes!
Pert.
On our Allegiance Pall!
Yo: Pall.
Go then!—shift, and brush your skins well, d'you hear!
Meet me at the new Play; faire, and perfum'd!
There are strange words hang on the lips of Rumor!
Pert.
Language of joy deere Pall!
Yo: Pallat.
This day is come
To Towne, the Minion of the womb (my Lads)
My elder Brother, and hee moves like some
Assyrian Prince; his Chariots measure Leagues
Witty, as youthfull Poets in their wine!
Bold as a Centaure at a Feast, and kind
As Virgins that were nere beguild with love!
I seeke him now, meet and triumph!
Meager, King Pall!—
Exeunt Omnes.
Pert.
Enter Sir Morglay Thwack, Eld. Pallatine, new and richly clothed, buttoning themselves.
Eld. Pallat.
Sir Morglay! come! the houres have wings, and you
Are growne too old, t'overtake them: The Towne
Lookes (me thinkes) as it would invite the Countrey
To a Feast.
Thwack.
At which Serjeants and their Yeomen
Must be no Waiters (Pallatine) lest some
O'the Guests pretend busines: how dost like me?
Eld. Pallat.
As one, old women shall no more avoid,
Then they can warme Furs or Muskadell!
Thwack,
Pallatine! to have a volatile Ache,
That removes oftner then the Tartars Campe;
To have a stich that fucks a man awry,
Till he shew crooked as a Chestnut Bough,
Or stand in the deform'd Guard of a Fencer;
To have these hid in Flesh, that has liv'd sinfull
Fifty long yeares; yet husband, so much strength
As could convay mee hither, fourscore Miles
On a disigne of Wit, and glory may
Be Registred for a strange Northerne Act.
Eld. Pallat.
I cannot boast those Noble Malladies
As yet; but Time (deare Knight) as I have heard,
May make mans knowledge bold upon himselfe.
We travell in the grand cause! These smooth Rags,
These Iewels too, that seeme to smile e're they
Betray, are certaine silly snares, in which
Your Lady-wits, and their wise Compeers-Male
May chance be caught!
Enter Young Pallatine.
Yo: Pallat.
Your welcome (Noble Brother)
Must be hereafter spoke, for I have lost
With glad haste to find you, much of my Breath! —
Eld. Pallat.
Your joy becomes you it hath Courtship in't!
Yo: Pallat.
Sir Morglay Thwack! I did expect to see
The Archer Cimbeline, or old King Lud
Advance his Fauchion here agen, e're you
'Mongst so much smoke, diseases, Law, and noyse!
Thwack.
What your Towne gets by mee, let'um lay up
For their Orphans, and Record in their Annals!
I come to borrow where Ile never lend,
And buy what Ile never pay for.
Yo: Pallat.
Not your Debts?
Thwack.
No Sir, though to a poore Brownists widdow!
Though shee sigh all night, and have the next morning
Nothing to drinke, but her owne Teares.
Eld. Pallat.
Nor shalt thou lend money to a sick friend,
Though the sad worme ly morgag'd in his bed
For the hire of his Sheets.
Yo: Pallat.
These are Resolves,
That give mee newer wonder than your Cloathes;
Why in such shining Trim, like Men that come
From rifled Tents, loaden with victory?
Eld. Pal.
Yes Brother, or like eager heires new dipp'd
In Inke, that seal'd the day before in haste,
Lest Parchment should grow deere. Know Youth wee come
To be the businesse of all Eyes, to take
The wall of our St. George on his Feast day!
Thwack.
Yes, and then imbarke at Dover, and doe
The like to St. Dennis: All this (young Sir)
Without charge too; I meane, to us; wee bring
A humerous odd Phylosophy to Towne
That sayes, pay nothing!
Yo: Pal.
Why, where have I liv'd?
Eld. Pal.
Brother be calme, and edifie! But first
Receive a Principle, never hereafter
(From this warme breathing, till your last cold sigh)
Will I disburse for you agen; Never!
Yo: Pal.
Brother mine, if that be your Argument,
I deny the Maior!
Thwack.
Resist Principles?
El. Pal.
Good faith, though you should send me more Epistles
Than young Factors in their first voyage write
Vnto their short hair'd Friends; than absent Lovers
Pen neere their Mariage weeke, t'excuse the slow
Arrivall of the License, and the Ring,
Not one clipp'd penny should depart my reach.
Yo: Pal.
This Doctrine will not passe, how shall I live?
Eld. Pall.
As we intend to doe, by our good witts!
Yo: Pall.
How, Brother, how?
Eld: Pall.
Truth is a pleasant knowledge;
Yet you shall have her cheape, Sir Morglay here,
(My kind Disciple) and my selfe, have leas'd
Out all our Rents and Lands for pious uses!
Yo: Pall.
What, Co-founders! give Legacies ere death!
Pallatine the pious, and St Morglay!
Your names will sound but ill ith Kallender.
How long must this fierce raging zeale continue?
Eld: Pall.
Till we subsist here no more by our wit,
Then weele renounce the Towne, and patiently
Vouchsafe to reassume our Mother Earth,
Lead on our Ploughs into their rugged walkes
Agen, grope our young Heifers in the flanke,
And swagger in the wooll, wee shall borrow
From our owne flocks.
Thwack.
But ere we goe, we may
From the vast treasure purchas'd by our wit,
Leave heere some Monument to speake our Fame.
I have a strong mind to reedifie
The decayes of Fleet-Ditch, from whence I heare
The roaring Vestals late are fled, through heat
Of persecution.
Yo: Pal.
What a small star have I,
That never yet could light mee to this way!
Live by our wits?
El: Pall.
So live, that Usurers,
Shall call their Moneys in, remove their Banke
T' Ordinaries, Spring-garden, and Hide-parke,
Whilst their glad Sons are left seven for their chance,
At Hazard, Hundred, and all made at Sent;
Three motly Cocks o'th right Derby straine,
Together with a Foale of Beggibrigge!
Thwa.
Sir, I will match my Lord Maiors horse, make Iockeys
Of his Hench-boyes, and run 'em through Cheap-side.
Eld. Pallat.
What beauties Girles of feature governe now
I'th towne? tis long since wee did traffique here,
In midnight whispers, when the Dialect
Of Loves loose Wit, is frighted into signes,
And secret laughter stifled into smiles:
When nothing's loud but the old Nurses Cough!
Who keepes the Game up, hah! who misled now?
Thwack.
Not Sir, that if wee wooe, weele be at charge
For Looks; or if wee marry, make a Ioynture,
Entaile Land on women? entaile a Back,
And so much else of Man, as Nature did
Provide for the first wife.
Eld. Pallat.
I could keepe thee,
Thy future Pride, thy Surfets, and thy Lust,
(I meane, in such a garb as may become
A Christian Gentleman) with the sole Tithe
Of Tribute, I shall now receive from Ladies.
Thwack.
Your Brother, and my selfe have seal'd to Covenants!
The Female Youth o'th towne are his; but all
From forty to fourscore, mine owne: A widow
(You'l say) is a wise, solemne, wary Creature;
Though she hath liv'd to'th cunning of dispatch,
Clos'd up nine Husbands eies, and have the wealth
Of all their Testaments, in one Month Sir,
I will waste her to her first Wedding-smock,
Her single Ring, Bodkin, and Velvet-Muffe.
Yo: Pallat.
Your Rents expos'd at home, for Pious uses
Must expiate your behaviour here; Tell mee,
Is that the subtle plot you have on Heaven?
Thwack
The worm of your worships conscience would appear
As big as a Conger, but a good eye
May chance to find it slender as a Grigge!
Yo: Pallat.
Amazement knowes no ease, but in demands,
Pray tell mee Gentlemen, to all this vaste
Disignment (which so strikes my Eare) deduct
You nought from your revenue, nought that may
Like Fuell, feed the flame of your expense?
Eld. Pall.
Brother, not so much as will find a Iew
Bacon to his Egges: These gay tempting Weeds,
These Easterne stones of cunning foile, bespoke
Gainst our arrivall here, together with
A certaine stock of Crownes in eithers purse,
Is all the charge that from our proper owne,
Begins or furthers the magnifique plot,
And of these Crownes, not one must be usurp'd
By you.
Thwack.
No reliefe, but Wit and good Counsell!
Eld. Pallat.
The stock my Father left you, if your care
Had purpos'd so discreet a course might well
Have set you up i'th Trade, but we spend light!
Our Coach is yet unwheel'd, Sir Morglay, come,
Lets sute those Friesland horse with our owne straine!
Yo: Pallat.
Why Gentlemen, will the disigne keepe horses?
Thwack.
May be Sir they shall live by their Wits too!
Yo: Pall.
Their Masters are bad Tutors else; well, how
You'l worke the Ladies, and weake Gentry here
By your fine gilded Pills, a Faith that is
Not old may guesse without distrust. But Sirs,
The Citty (take't on my experiment)
Will not be gull'd!
Thwack.
Not gull'd? they dare not be
So impudent! I say they shall be gull'd,
And trust, and breake, and pawne their Charter too!
Yo: Pallat.
Is it lawfull (Brother) for me to laugh
That have no money?
Eld. Pallat.
Yes Sir, at your selfe!
Yo: Pallat.
Two that have tasted Natures kindnesse Arts,
And men, have shin'd in moving Camps; have seene
Courts in their solemne businesse, and vaine pride;
Convers'd so long i'th towne here, that you know
Each Signe, and Pibble in the streets; for you
(After a long retirement) to lease forth
Your wealthy pleasant Lands, to feed Iohn Crump,
The Cripple, Widow Needy, and Abraham
Sloath, the Beads-man of More-dale? Then (forsooth)
Perswade your selves to live here by your Wits.
Thwack
Where wee nere cheated in our Youth, we resolve
To couzen in our Age.
Eld. Pallat.
Brother, I came
To be your wise example in the Arts
That lead to thriving glory, and supreame life;
Not through the humble wayes wherein dull Lords
Of Lands, and Sheepe doe walke; Men that depend
On the fantastick winds on fleeting Clowds,
On seasons more uncertaine than themselves,
When they would hope or feare; But you are warme
In anothers silke, and make your tame ease
Virtue, call it content, and quietnesse!
Thwack
Write Letters to your Brother! do! and be
Forsworne, in every long Parenthesis,
For twenty pound sent you in Butchers silver!
Eld. Pall.
Rebukes are precious! cast them not away!
Yo: Pall.
Neither of these Philosophers were borne
To above five Senses; why then should they
Have hope, to doe things greater, and more new
I'th world, than I? This Devill Plenty thrusts
Strange boldnesse upon Men! well, you may laugh
With so much violence, till it consume
Your breath! Though sullein want, the Enemy
Of Wit, have sunke her low; if pregnant Wine
Can raise her up, this day she shall be mine.
Exit.
ACT. 2. SCEN. 1.
Enter the Lady Ample, Engine, Ginet.
Ampl.
My Guardian hors'd? this evening say'st thou Engine?
Engin.
It's an houre (Madam) since hee smelt the Towne?
Ampl.
Saw'st thou his slender empty leg in th'Stirrop?
His Iv'ry Box on his smooth Ebon staffe
New civitted, and tyed to's gouty wrist?
With his warp'd face close button'd in his Hood,
That Men may take him for a Monke disguis'd,
And fled post from a Pursevant!
Engin.
(Madam) beware I pray, lest th'Age and cunning
Hee is Master of, prepare you a Revenge,
And such as your fine wit shall nere intreat
Your patience to disgest. To morrow night
Th'extreamest Minute of your Wardship is
Expir'd, and wee Magicians of the house
Believe this hasty Iourney hee hath tane
Is to provide a Husband for your sheets!
Ampl.
And such a one, as judgement and nine Eies
Must needs dislike, that's composition may
Grow up to his owne thrifty wish.
Eng.
Madam.
Your Arrow was well aym'd; I call him Master,
But I am Servant unto Truth, and You.
Ampl.
He chuse a Husband, fit to guide, and sway
My Beauties wealthy Dowry, and my heart?
Ile make Election to delight my selfe:
What composition strictest Lawes will give;
His Guardianship may take from the rich Banke
My Father left, and not devour my Land.
Ginet.
Your Ladyship has liv'd six yeares beneath
His roofe, therefore may guesse the colour
Of his heart, and what his braines doe weigh.
But Engine (Madam) is your humble Creature.
Ampl.
I have bounty, Engine!
And thou shalt largely taste it, when the next
Faire Sun is set, for then my Wardship ends—
Knocking within.
That speaks command, or hast open the doore.
Enter Lucy.
Lucy! weeping my wench? melting thine Eies,
As they had trespass'd against light, and thou
Wouldst give them darknesse for a punishment.
Lucy.
Vndone (Madam) without all hope, but what
Your pitty will vouchsafe to minister!
Ampl.
Hast thou been struck by infamy? or com'st
A Mourner from the Funerall of Love?
Lucy.
I am the Mourner, and the Mourn'd; dead to
My selfe; but left not rich enough to buy a Grave:
My cruell Aunt hath banish'd me her Roofe,
Expos'd me to the night, the winds, and what
The raging Elements on wandrers lay,
Left naked, as first Infancie or Truth.
Ginet.
I could nere indure that old moist ey'd Lady!
Me thought she pray'd too oft.
Amp.
A meere receipt
To make her long winded, which our devout
Phisitians now prescribe to defer death.
But Lucy, can she urge no cause for this
Strange wrath, that you would willingly conceale!
Lucy.
Suspitions of my Chastity; which heaven
Must needs resist as false; though she accus'd
Mee even in dreame, where thoughts commit by chance,
Not Apetite.
Amp.
What ground had her suspect?
Lucy.
Young Pallatine (that woo'd my heart untill
Hee gather'd Fondnesse where hee planted Love)
Was falne into such want, as eager blood,
And Youth could not endure, and keepe the Lawes
Inviolate. I to prevent my feare,
Sold all my Iewels, and my trifling wealth
Bestow'd them on him; and she thinks a more
Vnholy consequence attends the guift.
Ampl.
This Luce, is such Apostacie in Wit,
As Nature must degrade her selfe in woman to
Forgive? shall Love put thee to charge? couldst thou
Permit thy Lover to become thy Pensioner?
Engin.
Her sence will now be tickled till it ake!
Ampl.
Thy feature and thy wit, are wealth enough
To keepe thee high in all those vanities
That wilde ambition, or expensive pride
Performe in youth; but thou invertst their use
Thy Lover like the foolish Adamant,
The steele; thou fiercely dost allure, and draw,
To spend thy virtue, not to get by it.
Lucy.
This Doctrine (Madam) is but new to mee.
Ampl.
How have I liv'd thinkst thou? e'en by my Wits!
My Guardians contribution gave us Gownes;
But cut from th'curtaines of a Cariers bed:
Iewels wee wore, but such as Potters wives
Bake in the Furnace for their daughters wrists!
My womans Smock's so course, as they were spun
O'th tackling of a Ship.
Ginet.
A Coat of Male
Quilted with Wyre, was soft sarsnet to 'um.
Ampl.
Our dyet, scarse so much as is prescrib'd
To mortifie; Two Egges of Emmets poach'd
A single Bird no bigger than a Bee,
Made up a Feast.
Ginet.
He had starv'd me, but that
The Green-sicknesse tooke away my stomack!
Ampl.
Thy disease (Ginet) made thee in love with Morter,
And tho'eatst him up two foot of an old wall!
Engin.
A priviledge my Master onely gave
Vnto her teeth, none else o'th house durst do't.
Ampl.
When (Lucy) I perceiv'd this straitned life,
Nature (my Steward) I did call t'acompt,
And tooke from her Exchequer so much Wit
As hs maintain'd mee since. I led my fine
Trim bearded Males in a small subtle string
Of my soft haire; made 'um to offer up,
And bow, and laugh'd at the Idolatry.
Ginet.
A jewell for a kisse, and that halfe ravish'd.
Lucy.
I feel I am inclin'd t'indeavour in
A Calling (Madam) Ild be glad to live!
Ample.
Know (Luce) this is no Hospitall for Fooles!
My Bed is yours, but on condition Luce,
That you redeeme the Credit of your Sex;
That you beginne to tempt, and when the snare
Hath caught the Fowle, you plume him till you get
More feathers then you lost to Pallatine.
Lucy.
I shall not waste my houres in winding Silke,
Or shealing Pescods with your Ladiship!
Ampl.
Frosts on my heart! what? give unto a Suitor!
Know? I would faine behold, that silly Monarch,
(Bearded Man!) that durst wooe mee with halfe
So impudent a hope!
Eng.
Madam, you are
Not farre from the possession of your wish,
There is no language heard, no businesse now
In towne, but what proclaimes th'arrivall heere
(This morne) of th'elder Pallatine, Brother
To him you nam'd, and with him such an old
Imperiall buskin Knight as th'Isle nere saw.
Amp.
What's their designe?
Eng.
They wil immure thēselves
With Diamonds, with all refulgent Stones,
That merit price: aske 'em who payes? why Ladies!
They'le feast with rich Provinciall vvines, who payes?
Ladies. They'le shine in various habit, like
Eternall Bridegromes of the day, aske 'em
VVho payes? Ladies. Lie with those Ladies too,
And pay'em but with Issue-Male, that shall
Inherit nothing but their witt, and doe
The like to Ladies, when they grow to age.
Luce.
My eares receiv'd a taste of them before.
Ampl.
Engine, how shall we see them? blesse me, Engine,
With thy kind voyce.
Eng.
Though Miracles are ceas'd,
This (Madam's) in the power of Thought, and Time.
Ampl.
I would kisse hee Engine, but for an odd
Nice humour in my lips; they blister at
Inferiour breath! This Ring, and all my hopes
Are thine; deare Engine now project, and live!
Ginet.
Ide loose my VVedding to behold these Dagonets!
Ample.
My Guardean's out o' Towne! let us triumph
Like Caesars, till to morrow night! thou knowst
I'm then no more o'th Family! I would
Like a departing Lampe) before I leave
You in the darke, spread in a glorious blaze!
Engin.
Madam, command the Keyes, the house, and me.
Ampl.
Spoke like the bold Cophetua's Son!
Let us contrive within to tempt 'um hither:
Follow my Luce, restore thy self to Fame!—
Ex. Eng. Amp. Gin. Young Pallatine beckens Lucy from between the Hangings, as shee is going.
Yo: Pall.
Luce! Luce!
Lucy.
Death on my Eyes! how came you hither?
Yo: Pallat.
I'm Luce, a kind of peremptory Fly,
Shift houses still to follow the Sun-beames!
I must needs play in the flames of thy beauty!
Lucy.
Y'have us'd me with a Christian care, have you not?
Yo: Pallat.
Come I know all! I'have been at thy Aunts house▪
And there committed more disorder than
A storme in a Ship, or a Canon Bullet
Shot through a Kitchin among shelves of Pewter.
Lucy.
This madnesse is not true I hope!
Yo: Pal.
Yes Faith.
Witnesse a shower of Malmsey Lees, drop'd from
Thy Aunts owne Vrinall, on this new Morion!—
Lucy.
Why you have seene her then?
Yo: Pallat.
Yes, and she lookes like the old Slut of Babylon
Thou hast read of. I told her she must dye.
And her beloved Velvet-Hood be fold
To some Dutch Brewer of Ratcliffe, to make
His You Frowe slippers.
Lucy.
Speake low! I am deprived
By thy rash wine of all atonement now,
Vnto her after Legacies or Love!
Yo: Pallat.
My Luce! be magnifi'd! I am all plot!
All Stratagem! My Brother is in towne;
My Lady Ample's Fame hath caught him Girle:
I'm told he meanes an instant visit hither.
Lucy.
What happinesse from this?
Yo: Pallat.
As hee departs
From hence, I'have laid two Instruments, Meager
And Pert, that shall encounter his long eares:
With tales lesse true than those of Troy, they shall
Endanger him maugre his active wits,
And mount thee little Luce, that thou mayst reach
To dandle Fate, to sooth them till they give
Vs leave to make, or alter destinies!
Lucy.
You are too lowd! whisper your plots within.
Exeunt
Enter Engine, Elder Pallatine, Thwack.
Engin.
You call, and governe Gentlemen, as if
Your businesse were above your haste, but know
You where you are?
Eld. Pallat.
Sir Tirant Thrift dwels here!
The Lady Ample is his Ward; shee is
Within, and wee must see her; No excuses!
Shee is not old enough to be lock'd up
To sey new Perukes, or purge for Rhume.
Thwack.
Tell her, that a young devout Knight, made gray
By a charme (t'avoid temptation in others)
Would speake with her.
Engin.
I shall deliver you both,
These Tygers hunt their pray with a strange Nosthrill!
Come unsent for so aptly to our wish?—
Exit.
Eld: Pallat.
But this Sir Morglay will not doe, In troth
You breake our Covenants.
Thwack.
Why heare me plead!
Eld: Pallat.
From forty to fourscore, the written Law
Runs so; this Lady's in her Nonage yet,
And you to presse into my company
Where visitations are decreed mine owne,
Argues a heat that my rebukes must coole.
Thwa.
What should I do? wouldst have me keepe my chamber
And mend Darke Lanthornes; invent steele Matocks,
Or weigh Gun-powder, sollitude leads mee
To nothing lesse than Treason; I shall conspire
To dig, and blow up all rather than sit still.
Eld: Pallat.
Follow your Taske! you see how early I
Have found this young Inheretrix, goe seeke
The aged out; Bones, unto Bones! Like Cards
Ill pack'd, shuffle your selves together till
You each dislike the game!
Thwack.
Tis the cause I
Come for; a wither'd Mid-wife, or a Nurse
Who drawes her lips together, like an eye
That gives the cautionary winke, are those
I would find here; so they be rich, and fat!—
Enter Ginet.
Ginet.
My Lady understands your haste, and she
Her selfe, consults now in affaires of haste,
But yet will hastely approach, to see
You Gentlemen, and then in haste returne!
exit.
Eld Pall.
What's this the Superscription of a Packet?
Thwack.
Now does my blood wamble! you! Sucket eater!
offers to follow her, Pallatine staies him.
Eld. Pall.
These Covenants (Knight) will never be observ'd,
Il'e sue the forfeiture, leave you so poore
Till for preferment you become an Enuch,
And sing a Trebble; in a Chauntry, Knight.
Enter Ample, Lucy, Ginet, Elder Pallatine, and Thwak. addresse to kisse them, and are thrust backe.
Ample.
Stay Gentlemen! good soules! they have seene (Lucy)
The Country Turtles bill, and thinke our lipps
I'th Towne, and Court, are worne for the same use.
Lucy.
Pray how doe the Ladies there? poore Villagers
They churne still, keepe their Dayrles, and lay up
For Imbroidered Mantles, against the Heires birth!
Ample.
Who is begot i'th Christmas Holydaies.
Eld. Pall.
Yes surely, when the Spirit of Mince-Pie
Raignes in the blood.
Ampl
What? penny Gleek I hope's
In fashion yet, and the trecherous foot
Not wanting on the Table frame to jogge
The Husband, lest he lose the Noble that
Should pay the Grocers Man, for Spice and Fruit!
Lucy.
The good old Buttler shares too, with his Lady
In the Box, bating for Candles that were burnt
After the Clocke struck Ten.
Thwack.
He doth indeed,
Poore Country Madams th'are in Subjection still,
The beasts their husbands make 'em sit on three
Legg'd stooles, like homely Daughters of an Hospitall,
To knit sockes for their cloven feet.
Eld. Pallat.
And when these Tirant! Husbands too, grow old
(A thy have still th'impudence to live long)
Good Ladies they are faine to waste the sweet
And pleasant seasons of the day, in boyling
ellies for them, and rowling little Pills
Of Cambrick Lint to stuffe their hollow teeth.
Lucy.
And then the Evenings (warrant yee) they spend
With mother Spectacle the Curats wife,
Who does inveigh 'gainst curling and dyde Cheekes,
Heaves her devout impatient nose at oyle
Of Iessamin, and thinkes powder of Paris more
Prophane then th'ashes of a Romish Martyr.
Ample.
And in the dayes of joy, and triumph Sir,
Which come as Seldome to them as new gownes
Then humble wretches, they doe friske and dance
In narrow Parlers, to a single Fidle,
That squekes foorth tunes, like a departing Pigge.
Lucy.
Whilst the mad Hinds, shake from their feet more dirt
Then did the Cedar-Rootes, that danc'd to Orpheus.
Ample.
Doe they not powre their wine too, from an Ewre,
Or small guilt Cruce, like Orange-water kept
To sprinkle hollyday Beards?
Lucy.
And when a Stranger comes, send seven miles post
By Moone-shine, for another pint?
Eld. Pallat.
All these indeed are heauy truthes, but what
Doe you (th'exemplar Madams of the Towne?)
Play away your youth, as our hasty Gamesters
Their light Gold, not with desire to lose it,
But in a fond mistake that it will fit
No other use?
Thwack.
And then reserve your age
As superstitious Sinners ill got wealth
Perhaps for'th Church, perhaps for Hospitals.
Eld. Pallat.
If rich you come to Court, there learne to be
At charge to teach your Paraqueeto's French,
And then allow them their Interpreters,
Least the Sage Fowle should lose their wisdome on
Such Pages of the presence, and the Guard
As have not past the Seas.
Thwack.
But if y'are poore,
Like wanton Monkies, chain'd from Fruit,
You feede upon the itch of your owne Tailes.
Lucy.
Rose-Vineger to wash that Ruffians mouth!
Ampl.
They come to live here by their Wits, let them use'em!
Lucy.
They have so few, and those they spend so fast,
They will leave none remaining to maintaine them.
Eld. Pallat.
You shall maintaine us; a communitie
The subtle have decreed of late: You shall
Endow us with your Bodies, and your Goods;
Yet use no manacles cald dull Matrimony
To obliege affection against wise Nature,
Where it is lost (perhaps) through a disparity
Of yeares, or justly through distaste of crimes.
Ampl.
Most excellent Resolves!
Eld. Pallat.
But if you'l needs marry,
Expect not a single Vsurie
In a small Poet, or a cast Corporall.
Ampl.
You would not!
Thwack.
But looke to your old Widowes!
There my title's good; see they be rich too;
Lest I shall leave their Twins upon the Parish,
To whom the Deputy o'th Ward will deny
Blew Coates at Easter, Loaves at Funerals,
Cause they were Sons of an old Countrey Wit!
Ampl.
Why all for Widowes Sir, can nothing that
Is young affect your mouldy apetite?
Thw.
No in sooth, Damsels at your yeares are wont
To talke too much over their Marmaled,
They cann't fare well, but all the Towne must hear't!
Their love's so full of prayses, and so loud,
A man may with lesse noyse, lye with a Drum!
Ampl.
Thinke you so Sir?
Thw.
Give me an old widow that commits Sin
With the gravity of a corrupt Iudge,
Accepts of Benefits i'th darke, and can
Conceale them from the light.—
Ample takes Elder Pall: apart.
Ampl.
Pray Sir allow mee but your eare aside!
Though this rude Clime i'th Clough, presume
In his desires more than his strength can justifie,
You should have nobler kindnesse than to thinke
All Ladies rellish of an apetite,
Bad as the worst your evill chance hath found.
Eld. Pallat.
All are alike to mee: at least, I'le make
Them so, with thin perswasions, and a short
Expence of time.
Ample.
Then I have cast away
My sight; my eyes have look'd themselves into
A strong disease, but they shall bleed for it.
Eld. Pall.
Troth Lady mine, I find small remedy!
Ample.
Why came you hither Sir, she that shall sigh
Her easie spirits into wind for you,
Must not have hope the kindnesse of your breath
Will ere recover her.
Lucy.
What doe I heare? Hymen defend?
But three good corners to your little heart,
And two already broyling on Loves Altar?
Does this become her Ginet, speake?
Ginet.
As age, and halfe a smock would become me.
Thwack.
Th'ast caught her Pallatine; insinuate Rogue?—
Lucy.
Love him, you must recant, or the small God
And I shall quarrell, when wee meet i'th Clouds.
Thwack.
S'light, see how she stands, speake to her.
Eld. Pall.
Peace Knight! it is apt cunning that we goe;
Disdaine is like to water pour'd on Ice,
Quenches the flame a while to raise it higher.
Lucy.
Engine shew them their way. —
Enter Engine.
Engine.
It lies here Gentlemen!—
Eld. Pal.
There needs small sūmons, we are gone! but d'you hear,
We will receive no Letters, we, though sent
By'th incorporiall spy your Dwarffe, or Audry
Of the Chamber, that would deliver them
With as much caution, as they were Atachments
Vpon money newly paid.
Thwack.
Nor no message
From the old Widdow your Mother (if you
Have one) no, though she send for me when she
Is giving up her testy Ghost; and lies
Halfe drown'd in Rhume, those floods of Rhume, in which
Her Maids doe daily dive to seeke the Teeth
She cough'd out last. —
Exeunt Engine, Eld. Pall. Thwack.
Lucy.
Lasse! good old Gentleman!
Wee shall see him shortly in as many Nightcaps,
As would make sick Mahomet a Turband
For the Winter.
Amp.
Are they gone Luce?
Lucy.
Not like the houres, for they'l returne agen
Ere long▪ O you carry'd your false love rarely!
Amp
How impudent these Country fellows are?
Lucy.
He thinks y'are caught; he has you between's teeth,
And intends you for the very next bit
He meanes to swallow.
Amp.
Luce, I have a thousand thoughts
More than a Kerchiefe can keepe in: Quick Girle!
Let us consult, and thou shalt find what silly Snipes
These witty Gentlemen shall prove, and in
Their owne confession too, or I'le cry Flownders else,
And walke with my Petti-coat tuck'd up like
A long mayd of Almaineny.
Exeunt.
Enter Yo: Pallatine, Meager, Pert, the two last being new cloath'd.
Yo: Pall.
Don Meager, and Don Pert, you neither found
These imbroaderd skins in your mothers womb:
Surely Natures Wardrobe is not thus lac'd!
Pert.
We flourish Pall, by th'Charter of thy smiles,
A little magnify'd, with shew, and thought
Of our new plot.
Meag.
The chambers bravely hung!
Pert.
To thy owne wish, a Bed and Canopy
Prepar'd all from our numbred pence; if it
Should faile, Meager, and I, must creep into
Our quondam rags, a transmigration Pall,
Which our Divinity can ill indure.
Meag.
If I have more left t'maintaine a large stomacke,
And a long Bladder, than one comely Shilling,
Together with a single ounce of Hope;
I am the Son of a Carman.
Yo: Pall.
Doe you suspect my pro∣phecies,
That am your Mint, your grand Exchequer?
Pert.
Pall, no suspitions Pall, but we that imbarque
Our whole stock in one vessell, would be glad
To have all Pyrats o'shore, and the winds
In a calme humor!
Meag.
How fares th'intelligence?
Yo: Pall.
I left 'um at the Lady Ample's house
This street they needs must passe, if they reach home.
Pert.
O I would faine project 'gainst the old Knight,
Can we not share him too?
Yo: Pall.
This wheele must move
Alone, Sir Morglay Thwack's too rugged yet,
He'ld interrupt the course, a little more
O'th File, will smooth him fit to be screw'd up;
Pert.
Shrinke off Pall, I heare 'em!
Enter Thwack, Elder Pallatine.
Eld: Pall.
Th'hast not the art of patient leisure to
Attend the aptitude of things; wouldst thou
Run on like a rude Bull, on every object that
Doth heat the blood? this cunning abstinence
Will make her passions grow more violent.
Thwack.
But Pallatine, I doe not find I have
The cruelty, or grace, to let a Lady
Starve for a warm morsell.—
Pert and Meager take the Elder Pal∣latine aside.
Yo: Pallat.
Now my fine Pert!
Pert.
Sir, we have businesse for your Eare; it may
Concerne you much, therefore tis fit it be
Particular.
Eld: Pall.
From whom!
Meager.
A young Lady Sir.
It is a secret will exact much care
And wisdome i'th delivery; you should
Dismisse that Gentleman!
Eld: Pallat.
A young Lady! good!
All the best Stars i'th Firmament are mine!
Our Coach attends us Knight i'th botome of
The hither street, you must goe home alone.
Thwack.
Ile sooner kill a Serjeant, choose my Iury
In the City, and be hang'd for a Taverne Bush!
Eld: Pall.
Will't ruine all our destinies hath built?
Thw.
Come, what are those sly silk-worms there that creep
So close into their wooll, as they would spin
For none but their deare selves. I heard 'em name a Lady!
Eld: Pall.
You heard them say then, she was young, and what
Our Covenants are, remember!
Thw.
Young, how young?
She left her Wormeseed, and her Corall whistle
But a Month since: doe they meane so?
Eld. Pall.
Morglay, our Covenants is all I aske!
Thw.
May be shee hath a mind to mee, for there's
A reverend humor in the blood, which thou
Nere knewst; perhaps she would have Boyes begot
Should be deliver'd with long Beards, till thou
Arive at my full growth, thou'lt yield the world
Nought above Dwarfe, or Page.
Elder Pallat.
Our Covenants still, I cry!
Thwack.
Faith, I'le stride my Mule too morrow, and away
To'th homely Village in the North!
Eld: Pall.
Why so?
Thwack.
Alas, these silly Covenants (you know)
I seal'd too in my drinke, and certaine feares
Lurke in a remote comer of my head,
That say the game will all be yours.
Eld: Pallat.
But what successe canst thou expect, since w'have
Not yet enjoy'd the City a full day?
Thwack.
I say, let me have Woman; be shee young,
Or old, Grandam or Babe, I must have Woman!
Eld: Pall.
Carry but thy patience like a Gentleman,
And let mee singly mannage this adventure,
It will too morrow cancell our old deeds,
And leave thee to subscribe to what thy free
Pleasure shall direct.
Thw.
Wee'l equally injoy
Virgin, Wife, and Widow, the younger Kerchiefe with
The aged Hood.
Eld: Pall.
What I have said, if I had leisure now
I'd ratifie with oathes of thy owne chusing.
Thwac.
Goe! propagate! fill the shops with thy notch'd
Issue, that when our Money's spent, wee may
Be trusted, breake, and couz'n in our owne Tribe.
Eld: Pall.
Leave me to fortune!
Thw.
D'you here Pallatine.
Perhaps this young Lady has a Mother!—
Eld: Pall.
No more, good night! —
Exit Thwack.
I have obay'd you Gentlemen, no Eares
Are neere us, but our owne, what's your affaire!
Meag.
Wee'l lead you to the Ladies Mansion Sir,
'Tis hard by.
Eld: Pall.
Hard by!
Pert.
So neere, that if your Lungs be good,
You may spit thither: that is the house!
Eld: Pall.
These appeare Gentlemen,
And of some ranke! I will in!
Exeunt Eld. Pall. Meager. Pert.
Yo: Pall.
So, so! the hooke has caught him by the Gils;
And it is fastned to a line will hold
You Sir, though your wits were stronger than your purse!
Sir Morglay Thwack's gone home; his lodging I
Have learn'd, and there are certaine Gins prepar'd,
In which his wary feete may chance to be
Insnar'd; though he could weare his Eyes upon his Toes!
I must follow the game close! He is enter'd,
And ere this amaz'd, at the strange complexion
Of the house, but, 'twas the best our friendship
And our treasure could procure.
Exit.
Eld: Pallatine, Meager, Pert, with Lights.
Eld. Pall.
Gentlemen (if you please) lead me no further!
I have so little faith to believe this,
The Mansion of a Lady, that I thinke
'Tis rather the decayes of hell; a sad
Retirement for the Fiend, to sleepe in when
Hee's sicke with drinking Sulphure.
Pert.
Sir you shall see this upper roome is hung!
Eld. Pall.
With Cobwebs Sir, and those so large, they may
Catch and ensnare Dragons instead of Flies.
Where sit a melancholly race of old
Norman Spyders, that came in with'Conqueror.
Meag.
This chamber will refresh your Eyes, when you
Have cause to enter it.—
Leads him to look in 'tween the hangings.
Eld: Pallat.
A Bed, and Canopy!
Ther's shew of entertainment there indeed;
There Lovers may have place to celebrate
Their warme wishes, and not take cold: but Gentlemen,
How comes the rest of this blind house so nak'd,
So ruinous, and deform'd?
Pert.
Pray Sir sit downe:
If you have seene ought strange, or fit for wonder,
It but declares the hasty shifts, to which
The poore distressed Lady is expos'd,
In pursuit of your love. Shee hath good fame,
Great dignity and wealth; and would be loth
To cheapen these by making-her dull family
Bold witnesses of her desires with you:
Therefore, t'avoyd suspition, to this place,
Sh'ath sent part of her neglected Wardrobe.
Meag.
And will ere Time growes older by an hower,
Guild all this homely furniture at charge
Of her owne Eies; her beames can doe it Sir!
Eld: Pallat.
My manners will not suffer me to doubt!
Pert.
Wee hope so too: besides though ev'ry one
That hath a heart of's owne, may thinke his pleasure;
We should be loth, your thoughts should throw mistakes
On us; that are the humble Ministers
Of your kind stars: for sure, though wee looke not
Like men that make Plantation on some Isle
That's uninhabited; yet you believe
We would teach Sexes mingle, to increase Men!
Meag.
Squires of the Placket, wee know you thinke us.
Eld: Pall.
Excuse my courage Gentlemen! good faith
I am not bold enough to thinke you so.
Pert.
Nor will you yet be woo'd to such mistake?
Eld: Pall.
Not all the Art, nor Flattery you have
Can render you to my beliefe worse than
My selfe: Panders, and Bawds, good Gentlemen
I shall be angry, if you perswade mee to
So vile a thought!
Pert.
Sir you have cause!
And in good faith▪ if you should thinke us such,
Wee would make bold to cut that slender throat.
Eld Pall.
How Sir?
Pert.
That very throat, through which the lusty Grape,
And sav'ry Morsell in the Gamesters dish,
Steale downe so leasurely, with Kingly gust!
Meag
Sir it should open wide, as th'widest Oyster
I'th Venecian Lake!
Eld. Pall.
Gentlemen, it should!
It is a throat I can so little hide
In such a cause, that I would whet your Razor for't
On my owne shooe.
Pert.
Enough! you shall know all!
This Lady hath a Noble Mind; but 'tis
So much o'remastred by her blood, we feare
Nothing but death, or you can be her remedy!
Eld: Pallat.
And she is young?
Meag.
O! as the Aprill Bud!
Eld. Pall.
'Twere pitty faith, she should be cast away!
Pert.
You have a soft, and blessed heart! and to
Prevent so sad a period of her sweet breath;
Our selves, this house, the habit of this roome,
The Bed within, and your faire person wee
Have all assembled in a trice.
Eld: Pall.
Sure Gentlemen,
In my opinion more could not bee done,
Were shee Inheretrix of all the East!
Pert.
But Sir the excellence of your pure fame,
Hath given us boldnesse to make sute, that if
You can reclaime her apetite with chaste
And wholsome homilies; such Counsell as
Befits your knowne morality, you will
Be pleas'd to save her life, and not undoe her honour?
Meag.
We hope you will afford her Med'cine by
Your meeke and holy Lectures, rather than
From any manly exercise, for such
In troth Sir you appeare to our weake sight!
Eld. Pall.
Brothers, and friends a stile more distant now
Cannot be given: though you were in compasse
Thick, as the Aspes, I must embrace you both —
Y'have hit the very Center, unto which
The toyles and comforts of my studies tend!
Pert.
Alas we drew our Arrow but by ayme!
Eld: Pall.
Why Gentlemen I have converted more
Than ever Gold or Aretine misled:
I've Disciples of all degrees in Nature
From your little Punque in Purple, to your
Tall Canvas Girle, from your Sattin Slipper
To your Iron Pattin, and your Norway Shooe!
Pert.
And can you mollifie the Mother Sir,
In a strong fit.
Eld: Pall.
Sure Gentlemen I can.
If bookes penn'd with a cleane and wholsome spirit,
Have any might to edifie; would they
Were here.
Meag.
What Sir?
Eld. Pall.
A small Library,
Which I am wont to make companion to
My idle howers: where some (I take it) are
A little consonant unto this Theame.
Pert.
Have they not names?
Eld. Pall.
A Pill to purge phlybotomy! a Balsamum
For the spirituall backe! a lozeng against lust;
With divers others Sir, which though not penn'd
By dull Platonick Greekes, or Memphian Priests,
Yet have the blessed marke of separation
Of Authors silenc'd, for wearing short haire.
Pert.
But Sir, if this chaste meanes cannot restore
Her to her health and quiet peace; I hope
You will vouchsafe your Lodging in yon Bed,
And take a little paines—
Points to the Bed within.
Eld: Pallat.
Faith Gentlemen, I was
Not bred on Scythian Rockes; Tygers and Wolves
I've heard of, but nere suck'd their milke, and sure
Much would be done to save a Ladies longing!
Meag.
Tis late Sir. pray uncase!—
They help to uncloath him.
Pert.
Your Boot, believ't, it is my exercise! —
Eld: Pall.
Well; tis your turne to labour now, and mine
Anon, for your deare sakes Gentlemen, I professe —
Pert.
My friend shall wait upon you to your sheets,
Whilst I goe and conduct the Lady hither:
Whom if your holy doctrine cannot well
Reclaime, pray hazard not her life; you have
A body Sir!
Eld. Pall.
O! think me not cruell!
Ex. Mea. Eld: Pal.
Enter Yo: Pallatine.
Pert.
Pall! come in Pall!
Yo: Pall.
Is he in Bed?
Pert.
Not yet,
But stripping in more haste, than an old snake
That hops for a new skin!
Yo: Pall.
If we could laugh
In our Coffin Pert, this would be a jeast
Long after death: hee is so eager in
His witty hopes, that he suspects nothing.
Pert.
O all he swallowes Sir is melting Conserve,
And soft Indian Plum! Meager, what newes?
Enter Meager.
Meag.
Layd! gently layd! he is all Virgin sure,
From the crowne of's head, to his very Navell!
Yo: Pall.
Where are his Breeches? speake! his Hatband too!
Tis of grand price, the stones are Rosiall, and
Of the white Rock!
Meag.
I hung'em purposely
Aside, th'are all within my reach: shall I in?
Yo: Pall.
Soft! softly my false fiend! remember Rogue;
You tread on Glasses, Egges, and gowty Toes! —
Meager takes out his Hat and Breeches, the Pockets and Hatband rifled, they throw 'em in agen.
Meag.
Hold Pall! th'Exchequer is thine owne! we will
Divide, when thou art gracious and well pleas'd!
Yo: Pal.
All Gold! the Stals of Lombard-street powr'd into a purse.
Pert.
These deare Pall, are thy Brothers goodly heards!
Yo: Pall.
Yes, and his proud Flocks; but you see what they
Come to? a little roome containes them all
At last; so, so, convay them in agen!
Because he is my Elder Brother!
My Mothers Mayden-head, and a Country Wit,
He shall not be exposde to bare thighes, and a
Bald Crowne! what noyse is that? —
knocking within, Pert lookes at doore.
Pert.
Death! there's old Snore
The Constable! his wife, a Regiment of Halberds.
And Mistresse Queasie too, the Landlady
That ownes this house.
Meag.
Belike th'ave heard, our friend
The Bawd, fled hence last night; and now they come
To ceaze on Mooveables for rent!
Young. Pall.
The Bed within, and th'Hangings that we hyr'd,
To furnish our designe, are all condemn'd,
My brother too; theyle use him with as thin
Remorse, as an old Gamester would an Aldermans Heire!
Pert.
No matter, our adventure's paid! follow
Pall! and Ile lead you a backe way, where you
Shall climbe ore tiles, like Cats when they make love.
Young. Pall.
Now I shall laugh at those, that heap up wealth
By lazie method, and slow rules of Thrift;
I'm growne the Child of Wit, and can advance
My selfe, by being Votary to chance,
Exeunt.
ACT. 4. SCEN. 1.
Enter Yo: Pallatine, Engine, Meager, Pert, Pallatine richly cloath'd.
Engin.
Your Brother's in the house; the Letter which
I sent to tempt him hither wrought above
The reach of our desires; My Lady Sir,
Hee does believe is sicke to death; and all,
In languishment for his deare love.
Yo: Pall.
Pert, and Meager, though you have both good faces,
They must not be seene here; there is below,
A Brother o'mine; whom (I take it) you
Have us'd not overtenderlie.
Meag.
S'light he must needs remember us!
Pert.
Wee'l sooner stay t'out-face a Basiliske!
Whither shall wee goe?
Yo: Pall.
To Snore the Constable: Morglay is still
A Pris'ner in his house; take order for's
Release, as I projected, but (d'you heare)
Hee must not free him till I come.
Pert.
Pall, will the dull Ruler of the night (Pall)
Obay thy Edict!
Yo: Pall:
His wife will, and she's his Constable!
Name mee but to her, and shee does homage!
Meag.
Enough, wee will attend thee there!
Engin.
This way Gentlemen.
Exeunt Engine, Pert, Meager.
Enter Elder Pallatine.
Eld: Pal.
What's this, an apparition, a Ghost imbroider'd?
Sure he has got the Devill for his Taylor.
Yo. Pall.
Good morrow Brother, Morrow!
Eld. Pall.
You are in glory sir, I like this flourishing!
The Lilly too, lookes handsome for a Month;
But you (I hope) will last out the whole yeare!
Yo. Pall.
What flourishing? O Sir, belike you meane
My Cloathes; th'are Ragges, course homely Ragges, beleev't;
Yet they will serve for'th Winter sir, when I
Ride post in Sussex wayes! —
Eld. Pall.
This gayetie denotes
Some solitary treasure in the Pocket,
And so you may become a lender too;
You know, I'm farre from home!
Yo. Pall.
I'le lend nothing, but good Counsell, and Witt?
Eld. Pall.
Why, sure, you have no Factors sir, in Delph,
Lyghorne, Aleppo, or'th Venetian Iles,
That by their Traffique can advance you thus;
Nor doe you trade i'th City by retaile
In our small Wares: All that you get by Law,
Is but a dolefull Execution
After Arrest; and for your power in Court;
I know your stockings being on, you are
Admitted in the Presence.
Yo. Pall.
What does this inferre Brother?
Men of designe are chary of their Minutes,
Be quicke, and subtile!
Eld. Pall.
The Inf'rence is
You prosper by my documents; and what
You have atchiev'd must be, by your good Wits!
Yo. Pall.
If you had had a Sybill to your Nourse,
You could not (Sir) have aym'd neerer the truth.
I saw your Eares and Baggs, were shut to all
Intents of bounty; therefore was inforc'd
Into this way; and 'twas at first somewhat
Against my Conscience too!
Eld. Pall.
If not to vex
The zealous spirit in you, I would know why?
Yo: Pal.
Good faith I've search'd Records, and cannot find
That Magna Charta does allow a Subject
To live by his Wits; there is no Statute for't!
Eld. Pall.
Your Common Lawyer was no Antiquary!
Yo. Pal.
And then (credit me Sir) the Canons of
The Church authorize no such thing.
Eld: Pall.
You have met with a dull Civillian too!
Yo: Pall.
Yet Brother, these impediments cannot
Choke up my way; I must still on!
Eld: Pall.
And you believe the Stories of young heires
Enforc'd to signe at Mid-night to appease
The Sword Mans wrath, may be out-done by you!
Yo: Pall.
I were unkind else, to my owne good parts!
Eld: Pal.
And that your Wit has power to tempt from the
Severe, grave Bench, the Aldermen themselves,
To rifle where you please, for Skarfes, Feathers,
And for Race Nags!
Yo: Pal.
It is believ'd Sir, in a trice!
Eld: Pal.
And that your wit can lead our rev'rend Matrons,
And tefty Widowes of fourscore, to scale
(And in their smocks) for fraile commodities
To elevate your Punke?
Yo: Pal.
All this Sir, is so easie,
My Faith would swallow't, though t'had a sore throat!
Eld: Pal.
Give mee thy hand! This day Ile cut off the entaile
Of all my Lands, and dis-inherit thee!
Yo: Pall.
Will you Sir? I thanke yee!
Eld: Pal.
But marke mee Brother; for there's Iustice in't,
Admits of no reproofe; what should you doe
With Land, that have a Portion in your braine,
Above all Legacies or heritage?
Yo: Pal.
I conceive you!
Eld: Pal.
O to live here, i'th faire Metropolis
Of our great Isle, a free Inheritor
Of ev'ry modest, or voluptuous wish,
Thy young desires can breath; and not oblieg'd
To'th Plough-mans toyles, or lazie Reapers swet;
To make the world thy Farme, and ev'ry Man
Lesse witty than thy selfe, Tennant for life;
These are the glories that proclaime a true
Phylosophie, and Soule, in him that climbes
To reach them with neglect of Fame and Life!
Yo: Pal.
He carries it bravely! As he had felt
Nothing that fits his owne remorse; but know,
Sir Eagle, th'higher that you flye, the lesse
You will appeare to us, dim sighted Fowle,
That flutter here below. Brother, farewell!
They say, the Lady of this house, groanes for
Your love, the tame sick foole is rich; let not
Your pride beguile your profit!
Exit.
Eld: Pall.
I suspect him! Not all the skill I have
In Reason, or in Nature can pronounce
Him free, from the defeat upon my Gold,
And Iewels! 'twas like a Brother! but for
His two Confederates; though I should meet
Them in a Mist, darker than Night, or Southerne Fens
Produce, my Eies would be so courteous sure,
To let mee know them!
Enter Ample, caried in as sicke in a Couch, Luce, Engine, Ginet.
Engin.
Roome! More ayre! if heav'nly Ministers
Have leasure to consider or assist
The best of Ladies, let them shew it now!—
Luce.
How doe you Madam? Oh, I shall lose
The chiefe example of internall love
Of gentle grace, and feature, that the world
Did ever shew, to dignifie our Sex!
Eng.
Work on! I must stand Sentinell beneath!
Exit.
Eld: Pal.
Is her disease growne up to such extremitie?
Then it is time, I seeme to suffer too;
Or else my hopes will prove sicker than shee!
Luce.
More cruell than the Panthar on his prey!
Why speake you not? no comfort from your Lips;
You Sir that are the cause of this sad hower!
Gin.
He stands as if his Legs had taken root;
A very Mandrake!
Eld: Pall.
How comes it (Lady) all these Beauties that
But yesterday did seeme to teach
The Spring to flourish and rejoyce, so soone
Are wither'd from our sight.
Amp.
It is in vaine, t'inquire the reason of
That griefe, whose remedy is past; had you
But felt so much remorse, or softnesse in
Your heart, as would have made you nobly just,
And pittifull; the Mourners of this day
Had wanted then, their Dead to weepe upon!
Eld. Pall.
Am I the cause? forbid it gentle heaven!
The Virgins of our Land, when this is told,
Will raze the Monumentall building, where
My buried flesh shall dwell, and throw my dust
Before the sportive windes, till I am blowne
About in parcels lesse then Eie-sight can
Discerne!
Luce.
Shee listens to you sir?
Eld. Pal.
If I am guilty of neglect;
Give me a taste of dutie, name how farre
I shall submit to love! the mind hath no
Disease above recovery, if wee
Have courage to remove dispaire!
Ample.
O sir, the pride and scornes, with which you first
Did entertaine my passions, and regard,
Have worne my easie heart away; my breast
Is emptier than mine Eies; that have distill'd
Their Balls to Funerall Dew! It is too late!
Luce.
Ginet, my feares have in them too much Prophecie,
I told thee shee would nere recover!
Ginet.
For my poore part, I wish no easier Bed
At night, then the cold grave where she must lie!
Amp.
Luce, Luce! intreat the Gentleman to sit!
Luce.
Sit neere her sir! You heare her voyce growes weake!
Ample.
That you may see your scornes could not perswade
My love, to thoughts of danger or revenge;
The faint remainder of my breath, Ile waste
In Legacies, and Sir to you, you shall
Have all, the Lawes will suffer me to give!
Eld. Pall.
Who, I? sweet Saint, take heed of your last deeds!
Your bounty carries cunning Murder in't;
I shall be kill'd with kindnesse, and depart
Weeping, like a fond Infant, whom the Nurse
Would sooth, too early to his bed!
Luce.
Nay Sir, no remedy, you must have all:
Though you procur'd her death; the world shall not
Report; she dy'd beholding to you!
Ginet.
Goe to her Sir, she'ld speake with you agen!
Ample.
Sir, if mine Eies, in all their health and glory,
Had not the power to warme you into Love,
Where are my hopes, now they are dimme, and have
Almost forgot the benefit of light!
Eld. Pal.
Not love! Lady! Queene of my heart! what oathes
Or execrations can perswade your faith
From such a cruell jealousie!
Ampl.
I'd have some testimony Sir; if but
T'assure the world, my love, and bounty at
My death, were both conferr'd on one, that shew'd
So much requitall, as declares he was
Of Gentle humane race!
Eld. Pall.
What shall I doe?
Prescribe mee dangers now, horrid as those
Which Mid-night fires beget, in Citties overgrowne;
Or Winter stormes produce at Sea, and try
How far my love will make mee venture to
Augment th'esteeme of yours!
Ampl.
That triall of your love which I request
Implies no danger Sir; 'tis not in mee
T'urge any thing, but what your owne desires
Would chuse!
Eld: Pall.
Name it! like eager Mastiffs, chain'd
From the encounter of their game, my hot
Fierce appetite diminisheth my strength!
Ampl.
'Tis onely this: for feare some other should
Enjoy you when I'm cold, in my last sleepe;
I would intreat you to sit heare, grow sick,
Languish, and dye with mee!
Eld: Pall.
How! dye with you!
Takes Luce aside.
'Twere fit, you hastned her to write downe all
Shee can bestow, and in some forme of Law:
I feare, shee's mad! her sences are so lost,
Shee'l never find them to her use agen!
Luce.
I pray Sir why?
Eld. Pall.
Did you not heare what a fantastick sute
Shee makes, that I would sit and dye with her?
Luce.
Does this request seeme strange? you will doe little
For a Lady, that deny to bring her
Onward her last journey; or is't your thrift?
Alas you know, soules travell without charge!
Eld: Pall.
Her little skull is tainted too!
Ampl.
Is hee not willing Luce?
Eld. Pall.
My best deare Lady, I am willing to
Resigne my selfe to any thing but death!
Doe not suspect my kindnesse now; In troth
I've businesse upon Earth will hold me here
At least a score or two of yeares; but when
That's done; I am content to follow you!
Amp.
If this perswasion cannot reach at your
Consent; yet let mee witnesse so much love
In you, as may enforce you languish, and
Decay, for my departure from your sight.
Luce.
Can you doe lesse than languish for her death?
Sit downe here, and begin! true sorrow Sir,
If you have any in your brest will quickly
Bring you low enough!
Eld. Pall.
Alas good Ladies! do you think my languishment
And griefe is to begin upon mee now?
Heaven knowes how I have pin'd, and groan'd, since first
Your letter gave mee knowledge of the cause!
Luce.
It is not seene Sir in your face!
Eld. Pall.
My face! I grant you; I bate inwardly!
I'm scorch'd, and dry'd, with sighing to a Mummie:
My Heart, and Liver are not big enough
To choke a Daw! A Lamb layd on the Altar for
A sacrifice hath much more entrailes in't!
Luce.
Yet still, your sorrow alters not your face?
Eld. Pall.
Why no, I say! No man, that ever was
Of Natures making hath a face moulded
With lesse helpe for hypocrisie than mine!
Ginet.
Great pitty Sir!
Eld. Pall.
Though I endur'd the Diet and the Flux;
Lay seven dayes buried up to'th Lips like a
Deceas'd sad Indian in warme sand; whilst his
Afflicted Female wipes his salt foame off
With her owne haire, feeds him with Buds of Guacum
For his salad; and Pulpe of Salsa for
His Bread; I say, all this endur'd, would not
Concerne my face! Nothing can decline that!
Amp.
Yet you are us'd Sir, to bate inwardly!
Eld. Pall.
More than heires unlanded, or unjoynter'd Wives.
Enter Engine.
Engin.
What shall wee doe? Sir Tirant Thrift's come home!
Eld. Pall.
Sir Tirant Thrift!
Luce.
My Ladies Guardian Sir!
Amp.
He meets th'expected hower, just to my wish!
Luce.
What, hath hee brought a husband for my Lady?
Engin.
There is a certaine one legg'd Gentleman,
Whose better halfe of limbs is wood; for whom
Kind Nature did provide no hands, to prevent
Stealing; and to augment his gracefulnesse,
Hee's crooked as a Witches Bin!
Luce.
Is he so much wood?
Engin.
So much, that if my Lady were in health,
And married to him, as her Guardian did
Propose, wee should have an excellent generation
Of Bed-staves.
Luce.
When does hee come?
Engin.
To night if his slow Litter will consent;
For they convay him tenderly, lest his
Sharpe bones should grate together: Sir Pallatine,
I wish you could escape my Masters sight!
Eld. Pall.
Is hee comming hither?
Engin.
Hee's at the doore! My Ladies sicknesse was
No sooner told him, but hee straight projects
To proffer her a Will of his owne making!
Hee meanes Sir to be heire of all: if hee
Should see you here, hee would suspect my loyaltie,
And doubt you for some cunning Instrument,
That meanes to interrupt his covetous hopes!
Eld. Pall.
Then Ile be gon.
Engin.
No Sir, hee needs must meet you in
Your passage downe! besides, it is not fit
For you, and your great hopes, with my dependancie
On both, to have you absent when my Lady dyes;
I know you must have all: Sir I could wish
That wee might hide you here! —
Draw out the Chest within, that's big enough
To hold you: it were dangerous to have
My Ladies Guardian to find you Sir! —
They draw in a Chest.
Eld. Pall.
How! layd up like a brush'd Gowne, under lock
And key! By this good light, not I!
Luce.
O Sir, if but to save the honour of
Your Mistris fame, what will hee thinke to see
So comely, and so straight a Gentleman
Converse here with a Lady in her Chamber!
And in a time that makes for hi suspition too,
When hee's from home!
Eld. Pall.
I hate enclosure, I;
It is the humor of a distress'd Rat!
Ginet.
It is retirement Sir, and you'l come forth
Agen, so sage!
Ampl.
Sir Pallatine! —
Luce.
Your Lady cals Sir, to her, and be kind!
Amp.
Will you permit the last of all my howers
Should be defil'd with Infamie, proclaim'd
By lewder Tongues, to be unchaste ev'n at
My death? what will my Guardian guesse to find
You here?
Eld. Pal.
No more, Ile in! but think on't gentle Lady!
First to bate in wardly, and then to have
My outward person shut thus and inclos'd
From day light, and your company; I say
But thinke, if't be not worse than death!—
He enters the Chest.
Amp.
Locke him up Luce, safe as thy Mayden-head! —
Enter Sir Tirant Thrift.
Thrift.
Engine, where's my charge Engine, my deare charge?
Engin.
Sick as I told you Sir, and lost to all
The hope, that earthly med'cine can procure!
Her Physitions have taken their last fees,
And then went hence shaking their empty heads,
As they had left lesse braine than hope!
Thrift.
Alas poore Charge! come, let me see her Engine!
Luc.
At distance Sir, I pray, for I have heard
Your breath is somewhat sowre, with overfasting Sir,
On Holy-day Eeves!
Thrift.
Ha! what is shee Engine?
Engin.
A pure, good soule, one that your Ward desir'd
For love and kindreds sake, t'have neere her at
Her death; shee'l outwatch a long Rush Candle,
And reades to her all night the Posie of
Spirituall Flowers!
Thrift.
Does she not gape for Legacies?
Engin.
Fye no! there's a Cornelian Ring, perhaps
Shee aimes at, cost Ten Groats; or a wrought Smock,
My Lady made now 'gainst her wedding Sir;
Trifles which Maids desire to weepe upon
With Fun'rall Tales, after a Midnight Possit.
Thrift.
Thou saydst below, shee hath made mee her heire.
Engin.
Of all, ev'n to her Slippers and her Pins!
Amp.
Luce, me thought Luce, I heard my Guardeans voyce!
Engin.
It seemes her senses are growne warme agen;
Your presence will recover her!
Thrift.
Will it recover her, then Ile be gon!
Engin.
No Sir, shee'l straight grow cold agen! On! on!
She looks that you would speake to her.
Thrift.
Alas poor Charge! I little thought to see
This dolefull day.
Amp.
Wee all are mortall Sir!
Thrift.
I've taken care, and labour, to provide
A Husband for thee; hee's in's Litter now,
Hastening to Towne; a fine young Gentleman!
Onely a little rumpled in the womb,
With fals his Mother tooke, after his making.
Amp.
Death is my husband now! but yet I thanke
You for your tender paines, and wish you would
Continue it in quiet governing my Legacies,
When I am past the power to see it Sir;
You shall enjoy all!
Thrift.
This will occasion more Church building;
And raising of new Hospitals; there were
Enow before; but Charge you'l have it so.
Amp.
Ile make Sir one request; which I have hope,
You'l grant in thankfulnesse to all my bounty!
Thrift.
O deare Charge! any thing! Your Couzen here
Shall witnesse the consent and Act,
Amp.
Because I would not have my vanities
Remaine, as fond examples to perswade
An imitation in those Ladies that
Succeed my youthfull Pride i'th Towne: my Plumes,
Fantastick Flowers, and Chaines: my haughty Rich
Embroideries: my gawdy Gownes, and wanton Iewels,
I have lock'd within a Chest!
Luce.
There Sir, there the Chest stands.
Ampl.
And I desire it may be buried with mee!
Thrift.
Engine, take care Engine, to see it done!
Ampl.
Now Sir, I beseech you leave mee: for 'twill
But make my death more sorrowfull, thus to
Continue my converse with one, I so
Much love, and must forsake at last.
Thrift.
Alack, alack! bury her to night Engine!
Engin.
Not Sir, unlesse shee dies. Her Ancestors
Have sojourn'd long here in St. Bartholmewes,
And there's a Vault i'th Parish Church, kept only
For her Family; shee must be buried there.
Thrift.
I Engine, I, and let mee see; the Church
Thou knowst, joynes to my house, a good prevention
From a large walke; 'twill save the charge of Torch-light.
Engin.
What Fun'rall Ghests? the neighbours Sir, will looke
To be invited!
Thrift.
No more than will suffise
To carry downe the Corps; and thou knowst Engine,
Shee is no great weight.
Engin.
And what to entertaine them Sir?
Thrift.
A little Rose-marie, which thou mayst steale
From th'Temple Garden; and as many Comfits
As might serve to Christen a Watchmans Bastard:
Twill be enough!
Engin.
This will not doe! Your Citizen
Is a most fierce devourer Sir of Plums!
Six will destroy as many as can make
A Banquet for an Armie!
Thrift.
Ile have no more, Engine.
Ile have no more! nor (d'you heare) no Burnt wine;
I doe not like this drinking healths to 'th memory
O'th dead; it is prophane.
Engin.
You are obay'd!
But Sir, let mee advise you now to trust
The care, and benefit of all your fate
Presents you in this house, to my discretion;
And get you instantly to horse agen.
Thrift.
Why Engine, speake?
Engin.
In briefe, you know, that all
The Writings which concerne your Wards estate,
Lye at her Lawyers, fifteene Miles from hence!
Your credit, hee not knowing (Sir) shee's sick,
Will eas'ly tempt them to your owne Possession:
Which, once injoy'd, y'are free from all litigious sutes
His envie might incense her Kindred to!
Thrift.
Enough Engine, I am gone!
Engin.
If you should meet the crooked Lover in
His Litter Sir (as 'tis in your owne rode)
You may perswade him move like a Crab, backward;
For here's no mixture, but with wormes.
Thrift.
'Tis well thought on Engine! farewell Engine!
Be faithfull, and be rich! —
Engin.
My breeding and
Good manners Sir, teach mee t'attend your bounty!
Thrift.
But Engine, I could wish, shee would be sure
To dye too night!
Engin.
Alas good Soule! Ile vndertake
Shee shall doe any thing to please you Sir!
Exit Thrift.
Ampl.
Engine, thou hast wrought above the power
Of Accident, or Art!
Engin.
If you consider't with a just
And lib'rall braine: first, to prevent
Th'accesse, and tedious visits of the Fiend
His love-sick Monster; and then rid him hence,
Vpon a journey to preserve this house
Empty, and free to celebrate the rest
Of our designes!
Luce.
This Engine, is thy Holly-day!—
Luce knocks at the Chest.
What hoa! Sir Pallatine, are you within?
Eld: Pall.
Is Sir Tirant Thrift gone? open Lady! open!
Luce.
The Cazement Sir I will, a little to
Increase your witships allowance of aire!—
opens a wicket at th'end of the Chest.
But th'troth, for liberty of limbs, you may
As soone expect it in a Gally Sir,
After six Murders and a Rape!
Eld. Pall.
How, Lady of the Lawne!
Luce.
Sir Launcelot,
You may believ't, if your discreet faith please;
This Tenement is cheape; here you shall dwell,
Keepe home, and be no wanderer!
Eld. Pal.
The Pox take mee if I like this! sure when
Th'advice of th'Ancients is but ask'd, they'l say
I am now worse, than in the state of a Bawd!
Engin.
D'you know this Lady Sir?
Eld: Pall.
The Lady Ample!
Her vayle's off too! and in the lusty garb
Of health, and merriment! Now shall I grow
As modest as a snayle that in's affliction
Shrinks up himselfe, and's hornes into his shell,
Asham'd still to be seene.
Ampl.
Couldst thou believe,
Thou bearded Babe! thou dull ingenderer!
Male rather in the back, than in the braine,
That I could sicken for thy love? for th'cold
Society of a thin Northerne Wit! —
Eld: Pallatine sings.
Eld. Pal.
Then Troyains waile with great remorse,
The Greekes are lock'd i'th wooden horse!
Enter Yo: Pallatine.
Luce.
Pall, come in Pall! tis done! the spacious Man
Of Land, is now contented with his owne length.
Ample.
Your Brother's come to see you Sir!
Eld. Pa.
Brother! Mad Girles these I couldst thou believ't sirrah!
I am Coffin'd up like a Salmon Pye,
New sent from Den'shire for a token! Come,
Breake up the Chest!
Yo. Pall.
Stay Brother! whose Chest is it?
El. Pall.
Thou'lt aske more questions then a Constable
In's sleepe! prethee dispatch!
Yo. Pall.
Brother, I can,
But marke the Malice and the envy of
Nature: I am no sooner exalted
To rich Possessions, and a glorious meen;
But straight you tempt mee to a forfeiture
Of all; to commit Felony; breake open Chests!
Eld Pall.
O for Dame Patience! the Fooles Mistresse!
Yo. Pall.
Brother, you have prayd well, heaven send her you!
You must forsake your owne faire fertile soyle,
To live here by your Wits!
Luce.
And dreame Sir of
Enjoying goodly Ladies six yards high!
With Sattin Traines behind them ten yards long!
Amp.
Cloth'd all in Purple, and imbroadred with
Embossements wrought in Imag'ry, the works
O'th ancient Poets drawne into similitude,
And cunning shape!
Gin.
And this attain'd Sir by your Wits!
Yo: Pall.
Nothing could please your haughty Pallat but
The Muskatelli, and Frantiniak Grape!
Your Turin and your Tuscan Veale, with Red
Legg'd Partridge of the Genoa hils!
Engin.
With your broad Liver o'th Venecian Goose;
Fatned by a Iew; and your aged Carpe,
Bred i'th Geneva Lake!
Ampl. Luce. Ginet.
All this maintain'd Sir by your Wits!
Engin.
And then you talk'd Sir of your Snailes t'ane from
The dewy Marble Quarries of Carrara,
And sows'd in Luca Oyle; with Creame of Zwitzerland,
And Genoa pas.
Yo: Pall.
Your Angelots of Brie!
Your Mrsolini, and Parmasan of Lodi!
Your Malamucka Mellons, and Cicilian Dates!
And then to close your proud voluptuous Maw,
Marmalad made, by the cleanely Nunnes of Lisbone!
Ample. Luce. Ginet.
And still thus feasted by your wits!
Eld. Pall.
Deafned with tyranny! is there no end!
Ample.
Yes Sir, an end of you; you shall be now
Convay'd into a closse darke Vault; there keepe
My silent Grandsire company; and all
The Musicke of your groanes, engrosse to your owne eares!
Eld: Pall.
How! buried, and alive?
Yo. Pall.
Brother! your hand!—
Farewell! I'm for the North! the fame of this
Your voluntary death, will there be thought
Pure courtesie to me; I meane to take
Possession sir, and patiently converse
With all those Hindes, those Heards, and Flocks,
That you disdain'd in fulnesse of your Wit!
Luce.
Helpe Pall to carry him! he takes it heavily! —
Eld. Pall.
I'le not endur't! fire! murder! fire! treason!
Murder! treason! fire!—
Amp.
Alas you are not heard!
The house containes none but our selves!
Ex. carying out the Chest.
Enter Thwack, Pert, Meager.
Pert.
We bring you sir, commends from Pallatine!
Thwack.
I had as'live, y' had brought it from the Devill!
Together with his hornes boyld to a Ielly,
For a Cordiall against lust!
Meag.
We meane the younger Pallatine; one Sir,
That loves your person, and laments this chance,
Which his false brother hath exposde you to!
Pert.
And as we told you sir, by his command,
We have compounded with the Constable;
In whose darke house, y'are now a Prisoner!
But sir, take't on my Faith; you must disburse!
For Gold is a restorative, as well
To libertie as health!
Thwack.
And you beleeve
(It seemes) that your small-tinie Officer
Will take his Unction in the Palme as lovingly,
As your exalted Grandee, that awes all
With hideous voyce, and face!
Pert.
Even so the Moderns render it!
Thwack.
But Gentlemen, you aske a hundred pounds;
Tis all I've left!
Pert.
Sir doe but thinke what a
Prodigious blemish it will be, both to
Your ingenuitie, and fame, to be
Betrayd by one, that is believ'd, no wittier than
Your selfe, and lye imprison'd for a Bawd!
Thwack.
Sir name it not! You kill mee through the eare!
I'd rather Sir, y'ould take my Mother from
Her grave, and put her to doe Pennance in▪
Her winding sheet: there is the Sum! —
Meag.
I'le in Sir, and discharge you!
Exit Meager.
Thw.
These carnall Mulcts and Tributes are design'd
Onely to such vaine people as have Land;
Are you, and your friend Landed Sir?
Pert.
Such land as wee can share Sir in the Map!
Thw.
Lo'you there now! These live by their Wits!
Why should not I take the next Key I meet,
And open this great head; to try, if there
Be any braines left, but sowre Curds, and Plum-broth!
Couzen'd in my Youth! couzen'd in my Age!
Sir, doe you judge, if I have cause to curse
This false, inhumane Towne! when I was young,
I was arrested for a stale commoditie
Of Nut-crackers, long Gigs, and Casting Tops:
Now I am old, imprison'd for a Bawd!
Pert.
These are sad Tales!
Thw.
I will write downe to'th Country, to dehort
The Gentry from comming hither, Letters
Of strange dire Newes; You shall disperse them Sir!
Pert.
Most faithfully!
Thw.
That there are Lents, six yeares long proclam'd by th'State!
That our French and Deale Wines are poyson'd so
With Brimstone by the Hollander, that they
Will onely serve for Med'cine to recover
Children of the Itch; and there is not left
Sack enough, to mull for a Parsons cold!
Pert.
This needs must terrifie!
Thw.
That our Theaters are raz'd downe; and where
They stood, hoarse Midnight Lectures preach'd by Wives
Of Comb-makers, and Mid-wives of Tower-Wharfe!
Pert.
'Twill take impregnablie!
Thw.
And that a new Plantation Sir (marke me)
Is made i'th Coven Garden, from the Sutlerie
O'th German Campes, and the Suburbs of Paris,
Where such a salt disease regnes as will make
Sassafras dearer than Vnicornes Horne!
Pert.
This cannot chuse but fright the Gentry hence;
And more impoverish the Towne, than a
Subversion of their Faire of Bartholmew,
The absence of the Termes, and Court!
Thw.
You shall (if my projections thrive) in lesse
(Sir) than a yeare; stable your horses in
The New Exchange, and graze them in the Old!—
Enter Yo: Pallatine, Meager, Queasie, Snore, Mist: Snore.
Pert.
Iog off! there's Pall, treating for your liberty!
Yo: Pall.
The Canopy, the Hangings, and the Bed,
Are worth more than your Rent! come, y'are overpaid!
Besides, the Gentleman's betray'd! hee is no Bawd!
Snor.
Truely, a very civill Gentleman!
'Las, hee hath onely roar'd, and sworne, and curs'd
Since hee was t'ane: no bawdry Ile assure yee!
Mist: Snor.
Gossip Queasie! what a good'yer would ye have?
Quea.
I am content, if you and I were friends!
Yo: Pall.
Come, come agree! 'tis I that ever bleed,
And suffer in your wars!
Mist. Snor.
Sweet Master Pallatine, here me but speake!
Have I not often said, Why neighbour Queasie,
Come to my house; besides, your Daughter Mall,
You know, last Pompeon time, din'd with me thrice!
When my childs best yellow stockings were missing;
And a new Pewter Porenger mark'd with P. L.
Snor.
I for Elizabeth Snore!
Mist: Snor.
The Pewterer that mark'd it was my Uncle!
Quea.
Why, did my Daughter steale your goods?
Mist. Snor.
You heare me say nothing! but there is
As bad as this (I warrant yee) learn't at
The Back-house! Ile have an Oven o'mine owne shortly!
Yo: Pall.
Come, no more words! there's to reconcile you
In Burnt wine, and Cake! Goe, get you all in!
I'm full of businesse, and strange Mistery!
Exeunt Snore, Mist: Snore, Queasie.
Meag.
A hundred Pall! 'twas all his store; it lies
Here my brave Boy, warme, and secure in Pouch!
Pert.
Wee'l share't anon.— What need your blush Sir Morglay,
Like a Mayd newly undone in a darke
Entrie? There are disasters sure, as bad
As yours Recorded in the Citie Annals!
Thw.
Your Brother is a Gentleman of a
Most even, and blessed composition, Sir;
His very blood is made of Holy-Water,
Lesse salt, than Almond-milke!
Yo: Pall.
My silly reprehension's were dispis'd;
Y'would be his Disciple, and follow him,
In a new Path, unknowne to his owne feet.
Yet I've walk't in it since; and prosper'd as
You see, without or Land, or Tenement.
Thw.
Tis possible to live b'our Wits! that is
As evident as light, no humane learning
Shall advise me from that Faith!
Yo: Pall.
Sir Knight, what will you give worthy my braine,
And mee; if after a concealement of
Your present shame, I can advise you, how,
T'achieve such store of wealth, and treasure, as
Shall keepe you here, th'exemplar glory of
The Towne, a long whole yeare, without reliefe
Or charge, from your owne Rents. This (I take it)
Was the whole Pride, at which, some few dayes since,
Your fancie aym'd!
Thw.
This was Sir in the howres
Of haughtinesse and hope! but now—
Yo: Pal.
Ile do't: whilst my poore Brother too; low, and
Declin'd, shall see, and envie it.
Thwack.
Live in full port; observ'd, and wondred at?
Wine, ever flowing in large Saxon Romekins
About my board; with your soft sarsnet smock
At night; and forreigne Musick to entranse?
Yo: Pall.
All this, and more than thy invention can
Invite thee too.
Thw.
Ile make thee heire of my
Estate! take my right hand, and your two friends
For witnesses!
Yo: Pall.
Enough! heare mee with haste!
The Lady Ample's dead!— Nay there are things
Have chanc'd since your concealment far more fit
For wonder Sir, than this: Out of a silly piety,
T'avoyd a thirst of Gold, and gawdy Pride
I'th world; sh'ath buried with her in a Chest,
Her Iewels, and her Clothes; besides, as I'm
Enform'd by Luce (my wise Intelligence)
Five thousand pounds in Gold; a Legacie,
Left by her Aunt more than her Guardian knew!
Thwac.
Well, what of this?
Yo: Pall.
Your selfe, and I, joyn'd Sir in a most firme
And loyall League, may rob this Chest!
Thwack.
Marrie, and will!
Yo: Pall.
Then when your promise is but ratify'd,
Take all the treasure for your owne expence!
Thw.
Come let us goe; My fingers burne till they
Are telling it! The night will grow upon's!
Onely you and I, I'le not trust new Faces:
Dismisse these Gentlemen!
Yo: Pall.
At the next street Sir!
Thw.
This is at least a girne of Fortune, if
Not a faire smile. I'm still for my old Problem;
Since the living rob mee, Ile rob the dead!
Yo: Pall.
On my delicious Pert! Now is the time
To make our Purses swell, and Spirits climbe!
Exeunt omnes.
ACT. 5. SCEN. 1.
Enter Yo: Pallatine, Ample, Luce, Engine, with a Torch.
Yo. Pall.
Engine, draw out the Chest, and ope the Wicket!
Let us not hinder him the ayre, since tis
Become his food!
Eld, Pall.
Who's there? what are you? speak!
Amp.
A brace of mourning Virgins Sir; that had
You dy'd in Love, and in your Wits, would now
Have brought Roses, and Lillies, Buds of the Brier,
And Summer Pinks to strew upon your Herse!
Eld. Pall.
Then you resolve mee dead!
Luce.
'Twere good that you would so resolve your selfe!
Yo: Pall.
She counsells you to wise and severe thoughts;
Why, you are no more mortify'd, then Men
That are about to dance the Morrice!
Eld. Pall.
Ladies, and Brother too (whom I beginne
To worship now, for tendernesse of heart)
Can you believe, I am so leaden, stupid,
And so very a Fish, to thinke you dare
Thus murther me in bravery of Mirth,
You haue gone farre: part of my suff'rance I
Confesse a justice to me!
Amp.
O, doe you so!
Hath your heart, and braine mett upon that point;
And render'd you silly to your owne thoughts!
Eld. Pall.
Somewhat mistaken i'th projection of
My journey hither! Three houres in a Chest
Among the dead; will profit more than three
Yeares in a Study; 'Mongst Fathers, Schoolemen,
And Phylosophers!
Yo. Pal.
And y'are perswaded now, that there is relatiue
To'th maintaining of a poore younger Brother,
Something beside his Witts?
Eld: Pall.
'Tis so conceiv'd!
Ample.
And that we Ladies of the Towne, or Court,
Have not such waxen hearts, that ev'ry beame
From a hott Lovers Eie, can melt them through
Our Breasts?
Eld. Pall.
Faith, 'tis imagin'd too!
Luce.
That though th'unruly Apetites of some
Perverted few, of our fraile Sex, have made
Them yield their honors to unlawfull love;
Yet there is no such want of you Male-sinners
As should constraine them hyre you to't with Gold?
Eld. Pall.
Y'have taught me a new Musick, I am all
Consent, and concordance!
Engin.
And that, the nimble packing hand, the swift
Disordred shuflle, or the slurr; or his
More base imployment, that with youth, and an
Eternall back, engenders for his bread;
Doe all belong to Men, that may be said
To live sir, by their Sinnes, not by their Witts!
Eld. Pall.
Sir, whom I love not, nor desire to love,
I am of your minde too!
Yo, Pall.
Madame, a faire conversion, 'tis now fit
I sue unto you, for his libertie!
Ample.
Alas he hath so profited in this
Retirement, that I feare he will not willingly
Come out!
Eld. Pall.
O Lady, doubt it not! Open the Chest!
Amp.
A litle patience Sir!
Enter Ginet.
Ginet.
Madam, we are undone, your Guardian is
At dore, knocking as if he meant to wake
All his dead Neighbours in the Church!
Ample.
So soone return'd! it is not midnight yet!
Engin.
I know the bayt that tempts him backe with such
Strange hast; and have according to your will
Provided (Madam) to betray his hopes!
Ample.
Excellent Engine!
Engine.
This Key convayes you through the Chancell to
The house Gall'ry! My way lies here; Ile let
Him in, and try how our designe will relish!—
Exit Engine.
Ample.
Come sir, it is decreed in our wise Counsell,
You must be layd some distance from this place!
Eld. Pall.
Pray save your labour (Madam) I'le come forth!
Amp.
No sir, not yet!
Eld. Pal.
Brother, a cast of your voyce!
Yo. Pall.
She hath the Key Brother! tis but an howers
Darke contemplation more!
Eld. Pall.
Madam, here me speake.
Ampl.
Nay, no beginning of orations now;
This is a time of great dispatch, and hast;
We have more plots then a Generall in a siedge! —
Ex. carrying out the Chest.
Enter Thrift, Engine.
Engine.
None of the Writings Sir, and yet perplex
Your selfe, with so much speed in a returne!
Thrift.
The Lawyer was from home, but Engine, I
Had hope to have prevented by my hast,
Though not her Fun'rall, yet the Fun'rall of
The Chest; Ah deare Engine, tell me but why
So much pure innocent Treasure, should be
Thus throwne into a darke forgetfulnesse!
Engine.
I thought, I had encountred his intents!
All Sir, that Law, allow'd her bounty to
Bestow, is yours; but for the Chest; trust me,
'Tis buried sir; the Key is here sir, of no use!
Thrift.
Hah, Engine! Give it me!—
Engin.
And Sir, to vex your meditation more,
Though not with Manners, yet with truth; know there
Is hidden in that Chest, a plenteous heape
Of Gold; together with a Rope of most
Inestimable Pearle, left by her late
Dead Aunt by will, and kept from your discovery!
Thrift.
Is this true, Engine?
Engin.
That precise Chit Luce, her couzen Puritan
Was at th'interring of't; conceal'd it till
The Fun'rall formes were past; and then forsooth,
Shee boasted that it was a pious Meanes,
To avoyd covetous desires i'th world▪
Thrift.
These Fun'rall tales (Engine) are sad indeed;
Able to melt an Eye, though harder than
That heart, which did consent to so much cruelty
Vpon the harmlesse Treasure!
Eng.
I mourne within Sir too!
Thrift.
Give mee the Key, that leads me from my house,
Vnto the Chauncell doore!
Engin.
Tis very late Sir, whither will you goe?
Thrift.
Never too late too pray; My heart is heavie!
Engin.
Where shall I wait you Sir?
Thrift.
At my low Gall'ry doore, I may chance stay long.
Engin.
This takes mee more than all the kindnesse Fortune
Ever shew'd mee: a desent transmutation.
I am no more your Steward, but your Spie!
Exeunt.
Enter Yo: Pallatine, Pert, Meager, Snore, and Watchmen.
Yo: Pall.
There, there's more Mony for your Watch; me thinks
Th'ave not drunke Wine enough; they doe not chirpe!
Snor.
Your Wine mates them, they understand it not.
But they have very good capacity in Ale;
Ale Sir, will heat 'um more than your Biefe Brewis!
Yo: Pall.
Well, let them have Ale then.
Snor.
O Sir, 'twill make 'um sing like the Silk-knitters
Of Cock-lane!
Yo: Pall.
Meager, goe you to Sir Tirant Thrifts house,
Luce, and the Lady are alone, they will
Have cause to use your diligence, make haste!
Meag.
Your dog, ty'd to a Bottle, shall not out-run me!
Exit.
Yo: Pall.
Pert, stay you here with Master Constable;
And when occasion cals, see that you draw
Your lusty Bill-men forth; bravley advanc'd
Vnder the Colours of Queene Ample, and
My selfe, her Generall!
Pert.
If Ale can fortifie, feare not! where's Sir Morglay?
Yo: Pall.
I'm now, to meet him i'th Church-yard; th'old Blade
Sculks there like a tame filcher, as hee had
Nere stolne 'bove Egges from Market women;
Robb'd an Orchard, or a Cheese loft!
Snor.
Wee'l wait your worship in this corner.
Yo: Pall.
No stirring, till I either come, or send.
Snor.
Pray Sir let's not stay long, 'tis a cold night;
And I have nothing on my Bed at home,
But a thin Coverlet, and my wives Sey Petti-coat:
Shee'l nere sleepe (poore soule) till I come home
To keepe here warme!
Yo: Pall.
You shall be sent for strait!
Be merry my dull Sons o'th Night, and Chirpe!
Exit.
Snor.
Come, neighbour Runlet! sighing payes no Rent,
Though the Land-Lady be in love! Sing out —
They sing a Catch in foure Parts.
With Lanthorne on Stall; at Trea Trip wee play,
For Ale, Cheese, and Pudding, till it be day:
And for our Break-fast (after long sitting)
Wee steale a Street Pig, o'th Constables gitting.
Enter Engine.
Engin.
Sir, draw downe your Watch into the Church,
And let 'um lie hid close by the Vestrie dore!
Pert.
Is hee there already?
Engin.
Fat Carriers Sir, make not more haste to bed,
Nor leane Phylosophers to rise; I've so
Prepar'd things, that hee'l find himselfe mistaken!
Pert.
Close by the Vestry dore!
Eng.
Right sir,
Ile to my Lady, and expect th'event of your surprise!
Pert.
Follow Master Constable, one, and one:
All in a File! —
Exeunt.
Enter Thrift, with a Candle.
Thrift.
I cannot find where they have layd her Coffin!
But there's the Chest; Ile draw it out, that I
May have more roome, to search, and rifle it!—
The weight seemes easie to me, though my strength
Be old; how long, thou bright all powerfull minerall,
Might'st thou lie hid, ere the dull dead, that are
Entomb'd about thee here, could reach the Sense,
To turne wise Thieves, and steale thee from oblivion!—
opens it, and finds a Halter.
How! a Halter! what Fiend affronts mee with
This Emblem! Is this the Rope of Orient Pearle? —
Enter Pert, Snore, Watchmen.
Pert.
Now I have told you Master Constable,
The intire plot; marke but, how like that Chest,
Is to the other, where the Elder Pallatine
Lies a Perdu; Engine contriv'd them both!
Thrift.
Hah! what are these, the Constable and Watch?
Pert.
Ceaze on him for no lesse than sacriledge!
Thrift.
Why neighbors, Gentlemen!
Pert.
Away with him.
Snor.
Wee shall know now, who stole the Wanscot Cover
From the Font, and the Vicar's Surplisse!
Pert.
Alas grave Sir, become a forfeiture
To'th King, for Sacriledge!
Thrif.
Heare me but speake!
Snor.
No, not in a cause against the King!
Pert.
Lead to's owne house! he shall be Pris'ner there,
And lock'd up safe enough.
Thrift.
Vndone for ever!—
Exeunt.
Enter Yo: Pallat: Thwack, with an Iron Crow, and dark Lanthorn.
Thw.
Why this was such a firke of Piety,
I nere heard of: Bury her Gold with her?
Tis strange her old shooes were not interr'd too;
For feare the dayes of Edgar should returne,
When they coyn'd Leather.
Yo. Pal.
Come Sir, lay down your Instrument!
Thw.
Why so?
Yo: Pal.
I'm so taken with thy free jolly Nature,
I cannot for my heart proceed to more
Defeat upon thy liberty: all that
I told thee were ranke lyes!
Thw.
How! no treasure trovar!
Yo: Pal.
Not so much as will pay for that small Candle light
We waste to find it out!
Thwack.
I thanke you Sir! —
Flings downe the Crow of Iron.
Yo. Pal.
You shall have cause, when you heare more; to this
Darke region Sir, solemne, and silent, as
Your thoughts must be, ere they are mortify'd.
Have I now brought you, to perceive what an
Immense large Asse (under your favour Knight)
You are to be seduc'd, to such vaine stratagems
By that more profound Foppe, your friend, my Brother!
Thw.
How had I been serv'd, if I'ad brought my scales
Hither, to weigh this Gold? but on! your brother!
Whose name (let me tell you first) sounds far worse
To me then does a Sergeant to a young
Indebted Lover, that's arrested in his Coach,
And with his Mistris by him!
Yo: Pall.
You are believ'd: but will you now confirme
Me to your grace and love, if I shall make't
Appeare, that in a kind revenge of what
You suffred Sir, I've made this false, and great
Seducer of Mankind, to suffer more.
Thw.
The Legend, Talmud, nor the Alcharon,
Have not such doubtfull tales as these; but make't
Appeare, I would have evidence!
Yo: Pal.
Then take't on my Religion Sir, he was
Layd up in durance for a Bawd before
He betrayd you to the same preferment!
Thw.
Shall this be justify'd, when my disgrace
Comes to be knowne; wilt thou then witnesse it?
Yo: Pal.
With a deepe oath! And Sir, to tempt more of
Your favours on poore mee, that ever mourn'd
For all your sufferings; know you shall now
See him inclos'd in a blind Chest; where hee
Lies bath'd Sir, in a greater swet than ere
Cornelius tooke in his owne Tub!
Thw.
Here amongst Sepulchers, and mallencholy bones:
Let mee but see't; and I will dye for joy,
To make thee instantly my heire!
Yo. Pal.
You shall; and yet ere the Sun rise, find him
Enthrall'd too in a new distresse!
Thw.
Do'st want money? bring mee to Parchment and
A Scriv'ner, Ile seale out two pound of Wax.—
Yo. Pall: knocks at the Chest.
Yo: Pal.
You Sir, my neer'st Ally, are you asleep?
Eld: Pal.
O Brother, art thou come! quick, let me forth.
Yo: Pal.
Here is a certaine friend of yours presents
His loving visit Sir!—
Opens the Wicket.
Eld. Pall.
Sir Morglay Thwack?
I had rather have seene my sister naked!
Thwack.
What, like a bashfull Badger doe you draw
Your head into your hole agen? Come sir,
Out with that sage Noddle, that has contriv'd
So cunningly for me, and your deare selfe!
Eld. Pall.
Here, take my Eielids Knight, and sow'em up,
I dare not see thy face!
Thwack.
But what thinke you
Of a new Iourney from the North, to live
Here by your Wits; or midnight visits sir,
To the Mogols Neece!
Eld. Pall.
I have offended Knight!
Whip me with wire, headed with Rowels of
Sharpe Ripon Spurs! Ile endure any thing
Rather than thee!
Thwack.
Wee have (I thanke your bounteous braine)
Beene entertain'd with various consorts sir,
Of whispring Lutes, to sooth us into slumbers,
Spirits of Clare to bathe our Temples in,
And then the wholsome wombe of woman too,
That never teem'd, all this for nothing sir!
Yo: Pall.
Come, Ile let him forth!
Thwack.
Rogue! if thou lov'st me!
Nay, let him be confin'd thus, one short moneth!
Ile send him downe to Countrey Faires for a
New motion made, b'a Germane Ingener!
Yo: Pall.
'Las, he is my Brother.
Thwack.
Or for a solitary Ape,
Lead captive thus by th' Hollander, because
He came aloft for Spaine, and would not for the States!
Yo: Pall.
Sir Morglay leave your Lanthorne here, and stay
My comming at yon dore; Ile let him out!
But for the new distresse, I promis'd on
His person, take it on my manhood sir,
He feeles it strait!
Thwack.
Finely ensnar'd agen, and instantly!
Yo: Pall.
Have a good faith, and goe!
Exit Thwack.
Eld. Pall.
Deare Brother, wilt thou give me liberty!
Yo: Pall.
Vpon condition sir, you kisse these Hilts,
Sweare not to follow me, but here remaine
Vntill the Lady Ample shall consent,
To'th freedome I bestow!—
He kisses the Hilts.
Eld. Pall.
Tis done! a vow inviolate!
He opens the Chest and lets him out.
Yo. Pall.
Now silence Brother! not one curse, nor thankes—
Exit Yo▪ Pall.
Eld. Pall.
Fate, and a good Starr speed me! though I have
Long since amaz'd my selfe e'ne to a Marble,
Yet I have courage left, to aske, what this
Might meane? Was ever Two legg'd Man thus us'd!—
Enter Pert, Snore, & Watchmen.
Pert.
Pall, and his friend are gone, I must not stay
His sight; but after you have ceaz'd upon him
Lead him a Prisoner to the Lady too. —
Exit Pert.
Sno.
Warrant ye, though he were Gog, or Heldebrand!—
they lay hold on him.
Eld. Pal:
How now? What meane you Sirs?
Snore.
Yield to the Constable.
Eld. Pal.
'Tis yielded sir, that you are Constable!
But where have I offended!
Snore.
Heere Sir, you have committed Sacriledge,
And robb'd an Aldermans Tombe, of himselfe,
And his Two Sonnes kneeling in Brasse!
Eld. Pal.
How, Flea Monuments of their Brazen skinnes?
Snore.
Looke, a Darke Lanthorne, and an Iron Crow!
Fine evidence for a Iurie!—
Eld. Pall.
I like this plott! The Lady Ample and
My Brother, have most rare, triumphant Witts;
Now by this hand, I am most eagerly
In love with both; I finde I have deserv'd all;
And am resolv'd t'hugge them, and their designes;
Though they afflict me more, and more! Whither must I goe?
Snore.
Away with him! Saucie fellow! examine
The Kings Constable▪ —
Exeunt.
Enter Young Pallatine, Thwack, Ample, Luce, Meager.
Meager.
I am become your Guardians Iaylor, Lady;
Hee's safe lock'd in the Parlor, and there howles
Like a Dogg that sees a Witch flying!
Thwack.
I long to heare how my wise Tutor thrives
I'th new defeat!
Amp.
'Tis well you are converted!
Beleev't that Gentleman deserves your thankes.
Thwack.
Lady seale my conversion on you Lipp;
'Tis the first leading Kisse, that I intend
For after chastetie!—
kisses her.
Yo. Pal.
Luce, see you make the proposition good
Which I shall give my Brother from this Lady,
Or Ile so swaddle your small Bones.
Luce.
Sweet Pall, thou shalt. Madam, you'l please to stand
To what I lately mention'd to your owne desire?
Amp.
To ev'ry particle, and more. —
Enter Pert.
Pert.
Your Brother's come; this roome must be his prison.
Yo: Pall.
'Way Luce, away: stand in the Closet Madam,
That you may heare us both, and reach my call.
Thw.
Ile stay, and see him.
Yo: Pall.
No Knight; you are decreed Sir Tirants Iudge:
Goe that way Sir, and force him to compound.
Thwack.
Ile fine him soundly,
Till's Purse shrink like a Bladder in the fire▪—
Ex. Amp. Luc. Thw. Meag. Pert.
Enter Snore, Elder Pallatine.
Snor.
Here Sir, this is your Iayle, too good for such
A great Offender.
Eld: Pall.
Sacriledge! very well.
Now all the Pulpit Cushions, all the Hearse Clothes,
And winding sheets, that have been stolne about
The Towne this yeare, will be laid to my charge!
Yo: Pall.
Pray leave us Master Constable, and looke
Vnto your other Bondman in the Parler. —
Exit Snore.
Eld: Pal.
This is the wittiest off-spring that our name
Ere had: I love him beyond hope, or lust,
My Father was no Poet sure, I wonder
How hee got him?
Yo. Pal.
I know you curse me now.
Eld. Pal.
Brother, introth you lie, and who ere believes it.
Yo: Pal.
Indeed you doe: Conjurers in a Circle,
That have rais'd up a wrong spirit, curse not
So much, nor yet so inwardly.
Eld: Pal.
I've a great mind to kisse thee.
Yo: Pal.
You have not sure?
Eld: Pal.
I shall do't, and eate up thy lips so far,
Till th'ast nothing left to cover thy teeth.
Yo: Pal.
And can you thinke all the afflictions you
Endur'd, were merited; first, for misleading
Morglay, your old friend; then, neglect of mee,
And haughty over-vallewing your selfe?
Eld: Pal.
Brother, I murmur not; the Traps that you
Have layd, were so ingenious, I could wish
To fall in them agen.
Yo: Pal.
The Lady Ample Sir,
There is the great contriver that hath weav'd
These knots so intricate and safe: 'Las, I
Was but her lowly Instrument.
Eld: Pall.
Ah that Lady! were I a King, shee should
Sit with me under my best Canopie,
A silver Scepter in her hand; with which,
I'd give her leave to breake my head for ev'ry fault
I did commit.
Yo: Pall.
But say, I bring this Lady Sir, unto
Your lawfull sheets; make her your bosome wife:
Besides, the plenty of her heritage,
How would it sound, that you had conquer'd her
Who hath so often conquer'd you?
Eld. Pall.
Deare Brother, no new plots.
Yo. Pall.
Six thousand pounds Sir is your yearly Rent;
A faire temptation to a discreet Lady:
Luce, hath fill'd both mine Eares with hope; besides,
I heard her say, shee nere should meet a man,
That she could more subdue with Wit, and Government.
Eld: Pall.
That Ile venture.
Yo: Pal.
Well, my first bounty is your freedome Sir;
For'th Constable obayes no Law, but mine.
And now, Madam! Appeare! —
Enter Ample, Luce.
Amp.
Y'are welcome 'mongst the living Sir?
Eld, Pal.
Lady, no words; if y'have but so much Mercie
As could secure one that your Eies affect.
Amp.
Why, you'r growne arrogant agen: d'you thinke
They are so weake, to affect you?
Eld. Pal.
I have a heart so kind unto my selfe,
To wish they could; O we should live.
Amp.
Not by our Wits.
Eld: Pal.
No, no! but with such soft content; still in
Conspiracie, how to betray our selves
To new delights, keepe harmonie, with no
More noyse, than what the upper motions make;
And this so constant too, Turtles themselves,
Seeing our faith, shall slight their owne, and pine
With jealousie.
Amp.
Luce, the youth talkes sence now, no Med'∣cine for
The braine, like to captivity in a darke Chest.
Yo: Pall.
O Madam, you are cruell!
Amp.
Well my sad Convertite: joy yet at this:
I've often made a vow, to marry on
That very day my Wardship is expir'd:
And two howres since, that liberty begun.
Luce.
Nay, heare her out! your wishes are so sawcie Sir.
Amp.
And know, my glory is dispatch. My Ancestors
Were of the fierie French, and taught me love,
Hot eagernesse, and haste!
Eld: Pall.
Let mee be rude
A while; lye with your judgement, and beget
Sages on that! My dearest, chiefest Lady!—
Amp.
Your braine's yet fowle, and will recoyle agen.
Eld▪ Pall.
No more: Ile swallow downe my Tongue!
Amp.
If Sir, your nature be so excellent,
As your kind Brother hath confirm'd to Luce.
And mee; follow, and Ile present you straight
With certaine writings you shall seale to, hood-winck'd,
And purely ignorant of what they are?
This is the swiftest, and the easiest test,
That I can make of your bold love; doe this,
Perhaps, I may vouchsafe to marrie you▪
The writings are within.
Eld: Pall.
Lead mee to triall, come!
Amp.
But Sir, if I should marry you; it is
In confidence, I have the better Wit;
And can subdue you still to quietnesse,
Meeke sufferings, and patient awe.
Eld: Pall.
You rap me still anew.
Yo: Pall.
In Luce, our hopes grow strong, and Giantly!
Exeunt.
Enter Thrift, Snore, Mist: Snore, Queasie, Ginet.
Ginet.
To him Mistrisse Snore; 'tis hee has kept
Your Husband from his Bed so long, to watch
Him for a Church Robberie!
Mist: Snor.
Ah, thou Iudas! I thought what thou'ldst come to!
Remember the Warrant thou sent'st for mee
Into Duck-lane, 'cause I call'd thy Mayd Trot!
When I was faine t'invite thy Clerke to a
Fee Pye, sent me b'a Temple Cooke, my Sisters Sweet-heart!
Quea.
Nay, and remember who was brought to bed
Under thy Coach house wall; when thou deuid'st
A wad of straw, and wouldst not joyne thy halfe-penny
To send for Milke, for the poore Chrisome!
Snor.
Now you may sweeten me with Sugar-loaves
At New-yeares-tide, as I have you Sir. —
Enter Thwack, Pert, Meager, Engine.
Thw.
Wee'l teach you to rob Churches! S'light, hereafter
Wee of the Pious shall be afrayd to goe
To a long Exercise, for feare our Pockets should
Be pick'd! Come Sir, you see already how
The neighbours throng to find you; will you consent?
Tis but a thousand pounds a piece to these
Two Gentlemen; and five hundred more t' Engine.
Your crime is then conceal'd, and your selfe free.
Meag.
No, he may chuse, hee'l trust to'th kind hearted Law.
Pert.
Let him, and to Dame Iustice too, who though
Her Ladiship be blind, will grope hard Sir,
To find your Money Bags.
Engin.
Sir you are rich▪ besides, you know what you
Have got by your Wards death; I feare you will
Be begg'd at Court, unlesse you come off thus.
Thrift.
There is my Closet Key, doe what you please.
Engin.
Gentlemen, Ile lead you to it, follow me.
Thw.
D'you use to find such sums as these beneath
An Oke, after a long March; I thinke sure,
The wars are not so plentifull.
Pert.
Wee thinke so too.
Thw.
Y'had better traile a Bodkin, Gentlemen,
Under the Lady Ample, than a Pike
Under a German Generall.
Per.
Wee'l in for th'Mony Sir, and talk anon.
Ex. Eng. Per. Meag.
Enter Eld: Pallatine, Yo: Pallatine, Ample, Luce.
Yo: Pall.
Sir Tirant Thrift, here is your Ward come from
The dead, t'indite you for a Robbery
Upon her Ghost.
Thrift.
Hah! Is shee alive too?
Luce.
Yes, and her Wardship out, before y'have profer'd her
A Husband Sir; so the best benefit
Of all your Guardianship is lost.
Ampl.
In seven long yeares you could not Sir provide
A man deform'd enough, to offer mee
For your owne ends.
Thrift.
Couzen'd of wealth, of fame! Dog Engine!
Ex. Thrift.
Thw.
Wee must have you enclos'd agen: y'are very
Forward with the Lady.
Eld: Pall.
I will be Sir,
Vntill shee groane! this Priest stayes some what long.
Thw.
How's this? troth I shall forgive thee then heartily.
Amp.
I've t'ane him i'th behalfe of health; to chide
And jeere, for recreation sake, 'twill keepe
Mee Sir, in breath, now I am past growing.
Eld: Pall.
Hearke Knight! here's rellish for your eares. I chose
None of your dull Country Madams, that spend
Their time in studying Receipts, to make
March-Pane, and preserve Plums; that talke
Of painfull Child-births, Servants wages, and
Their husbands good Complexion, and his Leg!
Thw.
New wonders yet!
El: Pall.
What was that (Mistris) which I seal'd to, hood-wink'd?
A simple triall of my confidence and love.
Amp.
Your Brother has it, tis a gift to him
Of one faire Mannor, 'mongst those many that you
Have in Possession Sir; and in this Bond,
Y'are witnesse to three thousand pounds I give to Luce!
Luce.
Yes Sir, for Pall and I must marry too.
Yo: Pall.
I were an Ev'nuch else, and th'world should know't.
Eld: Pall.
Thou couldst not have betrayd mee to a bounty
I more love. Brother! Give thee joy!—
Thw. takes Yo: Pall. aside.
Thw.
You are the cause of all these Miracles:
Therefore I desire you to be my heire;
By this good day you must: for I've t'ane order,
Though I love your Wit, you shall not live by it.
Yo: Pall.
My kind thanks Sir, the poore Mans gratitude.
Mist: Snor.
'Give you joy sweet Master Pallatine, and
Your Brother too.
Quea.
And send you more such wives,
Ev'ry yeare as many as shall please heaven.
Snor.
Tis day. Ile not to bed Sir now; my watch
Shall be drunke, at your worships wedding.
Yo: Pall.
They shall, and there is Gold enough to keepe
Them so, untill thy reigne be out.—
Enter Pert, Meager, Engine, with Money Bags.
Pert.
Loaden with composition Pall.—
Meag.
Tis for your sake wee grone under these burdens. —
Yo: Pall.
The Offall of Sir Tirants Trunks! Brother,
Pray know these Gentlemen, they owe you more
Money than they meane to pay now.
Eld: Pal.
I remember 'um: But no words my Cavalliers,
And you are safe. Where shall we dine to day?
Yo: Pal.
At Lucy's Aunts; wee'l make her costive Beldamship
Come off; when shee beholds a goodly joynture,
And our faire hopes.
Eld: Pall.
First, to the Church. Lady,
Ile make your skittish person sure. Some of
Your pleasant Arts upon mee, may become
A wise Example, and a Morall too;
Such as their haughty fancie well befits,
That undertake to live here by their Wits.
Exeunt omnes.