 | Women beware Women |  |
Scæn. 3.
Enter Leantio alone.Lean.
Methinks I'm ev'n as dull now at departure,
As men observe great Gallants the next day
After a Revels; you shall see 'em look
Much of my fashion, if you mark 'em well.
'Tis ev'n a second Hell to part from pleasure,
When man has got a smack on't: As many holidays
Coming together makes your poor heads idle
A great while after, and are said to stick
Fast in their fingers ends; ev'n so does game
In a new married couple for the time,
It spoils all thrift, and indeed lies a Bed
To invent all the new ways for great expences.
—Brancha and Mother above.
See, and she be not got on purpose now
Into the Window to look after me
I have no power to go now, and I should be hang'd:
Farewel all business, I desire no more
Then I see yonder; let the goods at Key
Look to themselves; why should I toil my youth out?
It is but begging two or three year sooner,
And stay with her continually; is't a match?
O fie, what a Religion have I leap'd into!
Get out again for shame, the man loves best
When his care's most, that shows his zeal to love.
Fondness is but the Idiot to Affection,
103
Good to make sport withal when the Chest's sull,
And the long Ware house cracks. 'Tis time of day
For us to be more wise; 'tis early with us,
And if they lose the morning of their affairs,
They commonly lose the best part of the day,
Those that are wealthy, and have got enough.
'Tis after Sun-set with 'em, they may rest,
Grow fat with ease, banket, and toy and play,
When such as I enter the heat o'th' day,
And I'll do't cheerfully.
Bran.
I perceive Sir
Y'are not gone yet, I have good hope you'll stay now.
Lean.
Farewel, I must not.
Bran.
Come, come, pray return
To morrow; adding but a little care more,
Will dispatch all as well; believe me 'twill Sir.
Lean.
I could well wish my self where you would have me;
But love that's wanton, must be rul'd a while
By that that's careful, or all goes to ruine,
As fitting is a Government in Love,
As in a Kingdom; where 'tis all meer Lust,
'Tis like an insurrection in the people
That rais'd in Self-wil, wars against all Reason:
But Love that is respective for increase,
Is like a good King, that keeps all in peace.
Once more farewel.
Bran.
But this one night I prethee.
Lean.
Alas I'm in for twenty, if I stay,
And then for forty more, I have such luck to flesh:
I never bought a horse, but he bore double
If I stay any longer, I shall turn
An everlasting spend-thrift; as you love
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For then I shall not care which end goes forward:
Again farewel to thee.
Exit.
Bran.
Since it must, farewel too.
Moth.
'Faith daughter, y'are too blame, you take the course
To make him an ill husband, troth you do,
And that disease is catching, I can tell you,
I, and soon taken by a yongmans blood,
And that with little urging: Nay fie, see now,
What cause have you to weep? would I had no more,
That have liv'd threescore years; there were a cause
And 'twere well thought on; trust me y'are too blame,
His absence cannot last five days at utmost.
Why should those tears be fetch'd forth? cannot love
Be ev'n as well express'd in a good look,
But it must see her face still in a Fountain,
It shows like a Country Maid dressing her head
By a dish of water: Come 'tis an old custom
To weep for love.
Enter two or three Boys, and a Citizen or two, with an Apprentice.
Boys.
Now they come, now they come.
2.
The Duke.
3.
The State.
Cit.
How near Boy?
1 Boy.
I'th' next street Sir, hard at hand.
Cit.
You sirra, get a standing for your Mistress,
The best in all the City.
Apprent.
I hav't for her Sir,
'Twas a thing I provided for her over night,
'Tis ready at her pleasure.
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Fetch her to't then, away Sir.
Bran.
What's the meaning of this hurry,
Can you tell Mother.
Moth.
What a memory
Have I! I see by that years come upon me.
Why 'tis a yearly custom and solemnity,
Religiously observ'd by th'Duke and State
To St. Marks Temple, the fifteenth of April.
See if my dull brains had not quite forgot it,
'Twas happily question'd of thee, I had gone down else,
Sat like a drone below, and never thought on't.
I would not to be ten years yonger again,
That you had lost the sight; now you shall see
Our Duke, a goodly Gentleman of his years.
Bran.
Is he old then?
Moth.
About some fifty five.
Bran.
That's no great age in man, he's then at best
For wisdom, and for judgment.
Moth.
The Lord Cardinal
His noble Brother, there's a comly Gentleman,
And greater in devotion then in blood.
Bran.
He's worthy to be mark'd.
Moth.
You shall behold
All our cheif states of Florence you came fortunately
Against this solemn day.
Bran.
I hope so always:
Musick.
Moth.
I hear 'em near us now, do you stand easily?
Bran.
Exceeding well, good Mother.
Moth.
Take this stool.
Bran.
I need it not I thank you.
Moth.
Use your will then.
Enter in great solemnity six Knights bare-headed, then two Cardinals, and then the Lord Cardinal, then the Duke; after him the States of Florence by two and two, with varity of Musick and Song.
Exit.
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How like you Daughter?
Bran.
'Tis a Noble State.
Methinks my soul could dwell upon the reverence
Of such a solemn and most worthy custom.
Did not the Duke look up? me-thought he saw us.
Moth.
That's ev'ry one's conceit that sees a Duke,
If he look stedfastly, he looks strait at them,
When he perhaps, good careful Gentleman,
Never mindes any; but the look he casts,
Is at his own intentions, and his object
Onely the publick good.
Bran.
Most likely so.
Moth.
Come, come, we'll end this Argument below.
Exeunt.
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