 | The Lady of Pleasvre |  |
The fourth Act.
Enter two men leading Alexander blinded, and goe off suddenly.Al.
I am not hurt, my patience to obey em
Not without feare to ha my throat cut else,
Did me a curtesie whither ha they brought me?
Tis devillish darke, the bottome of a well
At midnight, with but two starres on the top,
Were broad day to this darkenesse, I but thinke
How like a whirlewinde these rogues caught me up
These may be spirits, and for ought I know
Have brought me hither over twenty steeples,
Pray heaven they were not Bayleifes, thats more worth
My feare, and this a prison, all my debts
Reeke in my nostrill, and my bones beginne
To ake with feare to be made dice, and yet
This is too calme and quiet for a prison;
What if the riddle prove I am robd; and yet
I did not feele em search me? How how? musicke?
Enter Decoy like an old woman with a light.
And a light? What beldam's this, I cannot pray;
What art?
De.
A friend, feare not young man I am
No spirit.
Alex.
Off.
De.
Despise me not for age,
Or this course outside, which I weare not out
Of poverty; thy eyes be witnesse, tis
No cave or beggars cell tha'rt brought too, let
That gold speake here's no want, which thou maist spend,
And finde a spring to tire even prodigality
If thou beest wise.
Alex.
The devill was a coyner
From the beginning, yet the gold lookes currant.
De.
Tha'rt still in wonder, know I am Mistresse of
This house, and of a fortune that shall serve
And feed thee with delights, twas J sent for thee,
The jewell and the letter came from me.
It was my art, thus to contrive our meeting,
Because J would not trust thee with my fame,
Vntill J found thee worth a womans honor.
Al.
Honour and fame? the devill meanes to have
A care on's credit, though she sent for me,
J hope, she has another customer
To doe the tricke withall, J wod not turne
Familiar to a witch.
De.
What saist? Canst thou
Dwell in my armes to night, shall we change kisses,
And entertaine the silent houres with pleasure?
Such as old time shall be delighted with,
And blame the too swifte motion of his wings
While we embrace.
Al.
Embrace? she has had no teeth
This twenty yeares, and the next violent cough
Be sound at root, I doe not thinke but one
Strong sneeze upon her, and well mean't would make
Her quarters fall away, one kicke would blow
Her up like gunpowder, and loose all her limbs;
She is so cold, an Iucubus wod not heate her,
Her phlegme would quench a furnace, and her breath
Would dampe a musket bullet.
De.
Have you sir
Considerd.
Alex.
What?
De.
My proposition,
Canst love?
Alex.
I could have done, whom doe you meane?
I know you are pleas'd, but to make sport.
De.
Thou art not
So dull of soule as thou appearst.
Alex.
This is
But some device, my granam has some tricke in't:
Yes I can love.
De.
But canst thou affect me.
Al.
Although to reverence so grave a matron
Were an ambitious word in me, yet since
You give me boldnesse, I doe love you.
De.
Then
Thou art my owne.
Al.
Has she no cloven foote?
De.
And I am thine, and all that I command
Thy servants, from this minute thou art happy,
And fate in thee will crowne all my desires.
I griev'd a proper man should be compeld
To bring his body to the common market,
My wealth shall make thee glorious, and the more
To encourage thee, how ere this forme may fright
Thy youthfull eyes, yet thou wo't find by light
Of thy owne sense, for other light is banish'd
My chamber, when our armes tie lovers knots,
And kisses seale the welcome of our lippes,
I shall not there affright thee, nor seeme old,
With riveld veines, my skin is smooth and softe
As Ermines, with a spirit to meete thine,
Active and equall to the queene of Loves
When she did court Adonis.
Al.
This doth more
Confirme she is a devill, and I am
Within his owne dominions, I must on,
Or else be torne a peeces, I have heard
These Succubi must not be crost.
De.
We trifle
Too precious time away, Ile shew you a prospect
Al.
Have you no sacke i'th house, I would goe arm'd
Vpon this breach.
De.
It shanot need.
Al.
One word
Mother, have not you beene a Cat in your dayes?
De.
I am glad you are so merry sir, you observe
That bed.
Alex.
A very brave one.
De.
When you are
Disrob'd, you can come thither in the darke,
You shanot stay for me, come as you wish
For happinesse.
Exit.
Al.
I am preferd, if I
Be modest and obey, she cannot have
The heart to doe me harme, and she were Hecate
Herselfe, I will have a strong faith, and thinke,
I march upon a Mistris, the lesse evill,
If I scape fire now, I defie the devill.
Exit.
Enter Fred. Littlew. Steward.
Fre.
And how dee like me now?
St.
Most excellent.
Fre.
Your opinion Mr. Littlewor.
Lit.
Your French tailor
Has made you a perfect gentleman, I may
Converse now with you, and preserve my credit,
De'e find no alteration in your body
With these new clothes?
Fre.
My body altered? No.
Lit.
You are not yet in fashion then, that must
Have a new motion garbe, and posture too,
Or all your pride is cast away, it is not
The cut of your apparrell makes a gallant,
But the geometricall wearing of your clothes.
St.
Mr. Littleworth tells you right, you weare your hat
Too like a citizen.
Lit.
Tis like a Midwife,
Place it with best advantage of your haire,
Is halfe your feather molted? this does make
No shew, it should spread over like a Canopy,
Your hot reind Monsieur weares it for a shade,
And cooler to his backe, your doublet must
Be more unbutton'd hereabouts, you'le not
Be a sloven else, a foule shirt is no blemish,
You must be confident, and outface cleane linnen!
Your doublet and your breeches must be allow'd
No private meeting here, your cloak's too long,
Too much of Spanish gravitie, the fashion
Is to weare nothing but a Cape, a coate
May be allowed a covering for one elbow,
And some to avoid the trouble, choose to walke
In quirpo thus.
St.
Your coat, and cloak's a brushing
In Long-lane Lumbard.
Fre.
But what if it raine?
Lit.
Your belt about your shoulder is sufficient
To keepe off any storme, beside a reede
But wau'd discreetly, has so many pores,
It suckes up all the raine that falls about one,
With this defence, when other men have beene
Wet to the skin through all their cloakes, I have
Defied a tempest and walk'd by the Tavernes
Drie as a bone.
St.
Because he had no money
To call for wine.
Fr.
Why you doe walke enchanted,
Have you such pretty charmes in towne? But stay,
Who must I have to attend me?
Lit.
Is not that
Yet thought upon.
St.
I have laid out for servants.
Lit.
They are every where,
St.
I cannot yet be furnish'd
With such as I would put into his hands.
Fr.
Of what condition must they be, and how
Many in number sir?
Lit.
Beside your fencing,
Your singing, dancing, riding, and French-master,
Two may serve domesticke to be constant waiters
Vpon a gentleman, a foole, a pimpe.
St.
For these two officers I have enquir'd,
And I am promisd a convenient whiskin,
I could save charges, and employ the Pye wench
That carries her intelligence in whitepots,
Or tis but taking order with the woman
That holds the ballads, she could fit him with
A concubin to any tune, but I
Have a designe to place a fellow with him
That has read all Sir Pandarus workes, a Trojan
That lies conceal'd, and is acquainted with
Both citty and suburbian fripperies
Can fetch em with a spell at midnight to him,
And warrant which are for his turne, can for
Fre.
I like
Thy providence,—such a one deserves a livery twice a yeare.
St.
It shanot need, a cast suite of your worships
Will serve, he'le find a cloke to cover it
Out of his share with those he brings to bed to you.
Fre.
But must I call this fellow Pimpe?
Lit.
It is
Not necessary, or Iacke, or Harry,
Or what hees knowne abroad by will sound better,
That men may thinke he is a Christian.
Fre.
But heare you Mr. Littleworth, is there not
A method, and degrees of title in
Men of this art.
Lit.
According to the honour
Of men that doe employ em. An Emperour
May give this office to a Duke, A King
May have his Viceroy to negotiate for him,
A Duke may use a Lord, the Lord a Knight
A Knight may trust a gentleman, and when
They are abroad, and merry, gentlemen
May pimpe to one another.
Fre.
Good, good fellowship!
But for the foole now, that should waite on me,
And breake me jeasts.
Lit.
A foole is necessary.
St.
By any meanes.
Fre.
But which of these two servants
Must now take place.
Lit.
That question Mr. Fredericke
The schoole of Heraldry should conclude upon;
But if my judgement may be heard, the foole
Is your first man, and it is knowne a point
Of state to have a foole.
St.
But sir the other
Is held the finer servant, his employments
Are full of trust, his person cleane, and nimble,
And none so soone can leape into preferment
Where fooles are poore.
Lit.
Not all, there's a story for't,
Princes have beene no wiser than they should be,
Would any noble man, that were no foole
Spend all in hope of the Philosophers stone,
To buy new Lordships in another countrey,
Would Knights build Colledges, or gentlemen
Of good estates, challenge the field and fight
Because a whore wo'not be honest, come,
Fooles are a family over all the world;
The foole is Leiger with us.
St.
Then the Pimpe
Is extraordinary.
Fre.
Doe not you fall out
About their places; here's my noble Aunt!
Enter Aretina.
Lit.
How doe you like your nephew Madam now?
Are.
Well, turne about Fredericke, very well.
Are.
Am I not now a proper gentleman?
The vertue of rich clothes! now could I take
The wall of Iulius Cesar, affront
Great Pompeys upperlip, and defie the Senate,
Nay I can be as proud as your owne heart Madam,
You may take that for your comfort; J put on
That vertue with my clothes, and J doubt not
But in a little time, J shall be impudent
As any Page or Players boy, J am
Beholding to this gentlemans good discipline,
But J shall doe him credit in my practise,
Your Steward has some pretty notions too
In morall mischiefe.
Are.
Your desert in this
Exceedes all other service, and shall bind me
Both to acknowledge, and reward.
Lit.
Sweet Madam!
Thinke me but worth your favour, J wo'd creepe
Vpon my knees to honour you, and for every
Minute you lend to my reward, Ile pay
A yeare of serviceable tribute.
Are.
You
Can complement.
Lit.
Thus still she puts me off,
Vnlesse J speake the downe right word, she'le never
Vnderstand me, a man would thinke that creeping
Vpon one's knees Were English to a Lady.
Enter Alex.
Ale.
How ist Iacke? Pleasures attend you Madam,
How does my plant of honour?
Are.
Who is this?
Al.
Tis Alexander.
Are.
Rich and glorious!
Lit.
Tis Alexander the great.
Ale.
And my Bucephalus
Waites at the doore.
Are.
Your case is alterd sir.
Ale.
J cannot helpe these things, the Fates will have it,
Tis not my land does this.
Lit.
But thou hast a plough
That brings it in.
Are.
Now he lookes brave and lovely.
Fre.
Welcome my gallant Macedonian.
Al.
Madam, you gave your Nephew for my pupill,
The Beare at the bridge foote shall entertaine you,
A drawer is my Ganimed, he shall skinke
Briske Nectar to us, we will onely have
A dozen Partridge in a dish, as many Phesants,
Quailes, Cockes and Godwits, shall come marching up
Like the train'd band, a fort of Sturgeon
Shall give most bold defiance to an army,
And triumph ore the table.
Are.
Sir, it will
But dull the appetite to heare more, and mine
Must be excusd, another time I may
Be your guest.
Ale.
Tis growne in fashion now with Ladies,
When you please ile attend you; Littleworth
Come Fredericke.
Fre.
Weele have musicke, I love noise,
We will out roare the Thames and shake the bridge boy.
Ex.
Lit.
Madam I kisse your hand, wod you wod thinke
Of your poore servant, flesh and bloud is fraile,
And troublesome to carry without helpe.
Are.
A coach will easily convey it, or
You may take water at strand bridge.
Lit.
But I
Have taken fire.
Are.
The Thames will coole.
Lit.
But never quench my heart, your charitie
Can onely doe that!
Are.
I will keepe it cold
Of purpose,
Lit.
Now you blesse me, and I dare
Be drunke in expectation.
Are.
I am confident
He knowes me not, and I were worse than mad
To be my owne betrayer, hre's my husband.
Enter Born.
Bor.
Why, how now Aretina? What alone?
The mystery of this solitude? my house
Turne desart o'the sudaine, all the gamsters
Blowne up? Why is the musicke put to silence?
Or ha their instruments caught a cold, since we
Gave e'm the last heate? I must know thy ground
Of Melancholy.
Are.
You are merry, as
You came from kissing Celestina.
Bor.
I
Feele her yet warme upon my lip, she is
Most excellent company, I did not thinke
There was that sweetnesse in her sexe, I must
Acknowledge twas thy cure to disinchant me.
With such a Lady, I could spend more yeeres,
Than since my birth my glasse hath run soft minutes,
And yet be young, her presence has a spell
To keepe off age, she has an eye would strike
Fire through an adamant.
Are.
I have heard as much
Bestow'd upon a dull fac'd chambermaid
Whom love and wit would thus commend, true beauty
Is mock'd when we compare thus, it selfe being
Above what can be fetch'd to make it lovely,
Or could our thoughts reach some thing to declare
The glories of a face, or bodies elegance,
That touches but our sense, when beauty spreads
Over the soule, and calls up understanding
To looke when thence is offer'd, and admire,
In both I must acknowledge Celestina
Most excellently faire, faire above all
The beauties I ha seene, and one most worthy
Mans love and wonder.
Bor.
Doe you speake Aretina,
This with a pure sence to commend, or ist
The mockery of my praise.
Aret.
Although it shame
My selfe, I must be just, and give her all
The excellency of women, and were I
A man.
Bo.
What then?
Are.
I know not with what losse,
I should attempt her love, she is a peece
So angellically moving, I should thinke
Frailty excusd to dote upon her forme,
And almost vertue to be wicked with her.
Exit.
Bor.
What should this meane? this is no jealousie,
Or she beleeves I counterfeit, I feele
Something within me, like a heate, to give
Her cause, would Celestina but consent,
What a fraile thing is man, it is not worth
Our glory to be chaste, while we deny
Mirth and converse with women, he is good
That dares the tempter, yet correct his bloud.
Exit.
Celestina, Mariana, Issabella.
Cel.
I have told you all my knowledge since he is pleasd
To invite himselfe he shall be entertaind,
Mar.
Who comes with him.
Cel.
Sir William Sentlove, that prepard me for
The honourable encounter, I expect
His Lordship every minute.
Enter Sentlove.
Sent.
My Lord is come.
Enter Lord, Hairecut.
Cel.
He has honord me.
Se.
My Lord your periwig is awry.
Lo
You sir—
While Hairecut is busie about his haire, Sentlove goes to Celestina.
Sent.
You may guesse, at the gentleman thats with him.
It is his Barbar, Madam, dee observe
And your Ladiship want a shaver.
Hai.
She is here sir,
I am betraid Sentlove your plot, I may
Have opportunity to be reveng'd
Exit.
Sent.
She in the midst.
Lo.
She's faire, I must confesse,
But does she keepe this distance out of state.
Cel.
Though I am poore in language to expresse
How much your Lordship honors me, my heart
Is rich and proud in such a guest, I shall
Be out of love with every aire abroad,
And for his grace done my unworthy house,
Be a fond prisoner, become anchorite,
And spend my houres in prayer, to reward
The blessing, and the bounty of this presence.
Lor.
Though you could turne each place you move in, to
A temple, rather than a wall should hide
So rich a beauty from the world, it were
Lesse want to lose our piety and your prayer,
A throne were fitter to present you to
Our wonder, whence your eyes more worth than all
They looke on, should chaine every heart a prisoner.
Sent.
Twas pretty well come off.
Lo.
By your example
I shall know how to complement, in this
You more confirme my welcome.
Cel.
I shall love
My lippes the better, if their silent language
Perswade your Lordship but to thinke so truely.
Lo.
You make me smile Madam.
Cel.
I hope you came not
With feare that any sadnesse here should shake
One blossome from your eye, I should be miserable
To present any object should displease you.
You doe not Madam.
Cel.
As I should account
It no lesse sorrow, if your Lordship should
Lay too severe a censure on my freedome.
I wonot court a Prince against his justice,
Nor bribe him with a smile to thinke me honest,
Pardon my Lord this boldnesse, and the mirth
That may flow from me, I beleeve my father
Thought of no winding sheete when he begot me.
Lor.
She has a merry soule, it will become
Me aske your pardon Madam for my rude
Approach so much a stranger to your knowledge.
Cel.
Not my Lord so much stranger to my knowledge,
Though I have but seene your person a farre off,
I am acquainted with your character,
Which I have heard so often, I can speake it.
Lo.
You shall doe me an honor.
Cel.
If your Lordship will
Be patient.
Lo.
And glad to heare my faults.
Cel.
That as your conscience can agree upon em,
How ever if your Lordship give me priviledge,
Ile tell you whats the opinion of the world.
Lo.
You cannot please me better.
Cel.
Y'are a Lord
Borne with as much nobilitieas as would
Divided serve to make ten noble men
Without a Herald, but with so much spirit,
And height of soule, as well might furnish twenty.
You are learnd, a thing not compatible now
With native honour, and are master of
A language that doth chaine all yeares, and charme
All hearts, where you perswade, a wit so flowing
And prudence to correct it, that all men
Beleeve they onely meete in you, which with
A spacious memory make up the full wonders;
To these you have knowne valour, and upon
A noble cause, know how to use a sword
To honors best advantage, though you were none;
You are as bountifull, as the showers that fall
Into the Springs greene bosome; as you were
Created Lord of fortune, not her steward;
So constant to the cause, in which you make
And men had rather you should be their friend,
Than justice or the bench, bound up together.
Lor.
But did you heare all this.
Cel.
And more my Lord.
Lor.
Pray let me have it Madam.
Cel.
To all these vertues, there is added one,
(Your Lordship will remember when I name it,
I speake but what I gather from the voyce
Of others) it is growne to a full fame
That you have lov'd a woman.
Lo.
But one Madam?
Cel.
Yes many, give me leave to smile my Lord,
I shall not neede to interpret in what sence,
But you have shewd your selfe right honorable,
And for your love to Ladies have deserv'd,
If their vote might prevaile a marble statue,
I make no comment on the peoples text.
My Lord I should be sorry to offend.
Lor.
You cannot Madam, these are things we owe
To nature for.
Cel.
And honest men will pay
Their debts.
Lo.
If they be able, or compound.
Cel.
She had a hard heart, would be unmercifull,
And not give day to men so promising,
But you ow'd women nothing.
Lo.
Yes I am
Still in their debt, and I must owe them love,
It was part of my character.
Cel.
With your Lordships
Pardon I onely said, you had a fame
For loving women, but of late men say
You have against the imperiall lawes of love,
Restraind the active flowings of your blood,
And with a Mistris buried all that is
Hop'd for in loves succession, as all beauty
Had died with her, and left the world benighted!
In this you more dishonor all our sexe
Than you did grace a part, when every where
Love tempts your eye to admire a glorious harvest,
And every where as full blowne eares submit
Their golden heads, the laden trees bow downe
Their willing fruit, and court your amorous tasting.
Lor.
I see men would dissect me to a fibre,
But doe you beleeve this?
Cel.
It is my wonder!
Then goes to vulgar composition,
Borne and bred high, so unconfind, so rich
In fortunes, and so read in all that summe
Vp humane knowledge, to feed gloriously,
And live at court, the onely spheare wherein
True beauty moves, natures most wealthy garden,
Where every blossome is more worth, than all
The Hesperian fruite, by jealous Dragon watch'd
Where all delights doe circle appetite,
And pleasures multiply by being tasted,)
Should be so lost with thought of one, turne ashes.
There's nothing left my Lord that can excuse you,
Vnlesse you pleade, what I am asham'd to prompt
Your wisedome too?
Lo.
What that?
Cel.
That you have plaid
The Surgeon with your selfe.
Lo.
And am made Eunuch.
Cel.
It were much pitty.
Lo.
Trouble not your selfe,
I could convince your feares with demonstration
That I am man enough, but knew not where
Vntill this meeting beauty dwelt; the court
You talk'd of must be where the queene of love is,
Which moves but with your person, in your eye
Her glory shines, and onely at that flame
Her wanton boy doth light his quickning torch.
Cel.
Nay now you complement, I would it did
My Lord for your owne sake.
Lor.
You would be kind,
And love me then.
Cel.
My Lord I should be loving
Where I found worth to invite it, and should cherish
A constant man.
Lor.
Then you should me Madam.
Cel.
But is the ice about your heart fallen off,
Can you returne to doe what love commands?
Cupid thou shalt have instand sacrifice,
And I dare be the Priest.
Lor.
Your hand, your lip,
Now I am proofe gainst all temptation.
Cel.
Your meaning my good Lord.
Lor.
I that have strength
Against thy voyce and beauty, after this
May dare the charmes of womankind, thou art
Bella Maria unprophaned yet,
This Magicke has no power upon my bloud.
Of chaste as well as faire, thou wert a brave one.
Cel.
I hope your Lordship meanes not this for earnest,
Be pleasd to grace a banquet.
Lo.
Pardon Madam.
Will Sentlove follow, I must laugh at you.
Cel.
My Lord I must beseech you stay, for honour
For her whose memory you love best.
Lo.
Your pleasure.
Cel.
And by that vertue you have now profest,
I charge you to beleeve me too, I can
Now glory, that you have beene worth my triall,
Which I beseech you pardon, had not you
So valiantly recoverd in this conflict,
You had beene my triumph, without hope of more
Than my just scorne upon your wanton flame;
Nor will I thinke these noble thoughts grew first
From melancholy, for some femall losse,
As the phantasticke world beleeves, but from
Truth, and your love of Innocence, which shine
So bright in the two royall luminaries
At Court, you cannot lose your way to chastitie,
Proceede, and speake of me as honour guides you.
Exit Lord.
I am almost tir'd, come Ladies weele beguile
Dull time, and take the aire annother while.
Exeunt.
| The Lady of Pleasvre | |