 | The Lady of Pleasvre |  |
The fifth Act.
Enter Aretina and Servant.Are.
But hath Sir Thomas lost five hundred pounds
Already?
Ser.
And five hundred more he borrow'd,
The Dice are notable devourers Madam,
They make no more of peeces, than of pebbles,
But thrust their heapes together to engender,
Two hundred more the Caster cries this gentleman,
I am w'ee. I ha that to nothing sir, the Caster
Agen, tis covered, and the table too,
With summes that frighed me, here one sneakes out,
And with a Martyrs patience, smiles upon
His moneyes Executioner, the Dice,
Commands a pipe of good Tobacco, and
I'th smoke on't vanishes; another makes
Has put his shoulder out of joynt, calls for
A bone setter that lookes to'th boxe, to bid
His master send him some more hundred pounds,
Which lost, he takes tobacco, and is quiet;
Here a strong arme throwes in, and in, with which
He brusheth all the table, payes the Rookes
That went their smelts a peece upon his hand,
Yet sweares he has not drawne a stake this seven yeare.
But I was bid make haste, my master may
Lose this five hundred pounds ere I come thither.
Exit.
Are.
If we both waste so fast, we shall soone finde
Our state is not immortall, some thing in
His other wayes appeare not well already.
Enter sir Thomas.
Bor.
Yee Tortoises, why make you no more haste,
Go pay to'th master of the house that money,
And tell the noble gamsters, I have another
Superfluous thousand pound, at night ile visit em.
Dee heare?
Ser.
Yes and please you.
Bor.
Doo't ye drudges,
Ta ra ra—Aretina.
Ar.
You have a pleasant humor sir.
Bor.
What should a gentleman be sad?
Ar.
You have lost.
Bor.
A transitory summe, as good that way
As another.
Are.
Doe you not vexe within for't?
Bor.
I had rather lose a thousand more, than one
Sad thought come neere my heart fort, vexe for trash,
Although it goe from othermen like drops
Of their life bloud, we lose with the alacrity,
Wee drinke a cup of sacke, or kisse a Mistris,
No money is considerable with a gamster,
They have soules more spacious than Kings, did two
Gamsters divide the Empire of the world
They d make one throw for't all, and he that lost
Be no more melancholy, then to have plai'd for
A mornings draught, vexe a rich soule for dirt,
The quiet of whose every thought is worth
A Province.
Are.
But when Dice have consumd all,
Your patience will not pawne for as much more.
Bor.
Hang pawning, sell outright, and the feares over.
Are.
Say you so? I'le have another coach to morrow
Bor.
I forgot
To bid the fellow aske my Jeweller,
Whether the chaine of Diamonds be made up,
I will present it to my Lady Bellamour,
Faire Celestina.
Are.
This gowne J have worne
Sixe dayes already, it lookes dull, ile give it
My waiting woman, and have one of cloth
of gold enbrodered, shooes and pantables
Will show well of the same.
Bor.
I have invited
A covey of Ladies, and as many gentlemen
To morrow to the Italian Ordinary,
I shall have rarities, and regalli as
To pay for Madam, musicke, wanton songs,
And tunes of silken petticotes to dance to.
Are.
And to morrow have I invited halfe the Court
To dine here, what misfortune tis your company
And ours should be devided? after dinner
J entertaine e'm with a play.
Bor.
By that time
Your play inclines to the Epilogue, shall we
quit our Italian host, and whirle in coaches,
To the Douch Magazine of sawce, the Stillyard,
Where deale, and backragge, and what strange wine else,
They dare but give a name too in the reckoning
Shall flow into our roome, and drowne Westphalias,
Tongues, and Anchoavis, like some little towne
Endangered by a sluce, through whose fierce ebbe
We wade and wash our selves into a boate,
And bid our Coachmen drive their leather tenements
By land, while we saile home with a fresh tide
To some new randevous.
Are.
If you have not
Pointed the place, pray bring your Ladies hither,
J meane to have a Ball to morrow night,
And a rich banquet for e'm, where we'le dance
Till morning rise, and blush to interrupt us.
Bor.
Have you no Ladies i'th next roome, to advance
A present mirth? What a dull house you governe?
Farewell, a wife's no company—Aretina,
J've summ'd up my estate, and find we may have
A month good yet.
Are.
What meane you?
Bo.
And Jde rather
And rapture of our senses, than be yeares,
Consuming what we have in foolish temperance,
Live in the darke, and no fame waite upon us,
I will live so, posterity shall stand
At gaze when I am mentioned.
Are.
A mon'th good,
And what shall be done then.
Bor.
Ile over Sea,
And traile a pike, with watching, marching, lying
In trenches, with enduring cold, and hunger,
And taking here and there a musketshot,
I can earne every weeke foure shillings Madam,
And if the bullets favour me to snatch
Any superfluous limbe, when I returne
With good friends, I despaire not to be enrold
Poore Knight of Windsore; for your course Madam,
No doubt you may doe well, your friends are great,
Or if your poverty, and their pride cannot
Agree, you neede not trouble much invention,
To find a trade to live by, there are customers,
Farewell, be frolicke Madam, if I live
I will feast all my senses, and not fall
Lesse than a Phaeton from my throne of Pleasure,
Though my estate flame like the world about me.
Are.
Tis very pretty.
Enter Decoy.
Madam Decoy.
De.
What melancholy
Exit.
After so sweet a nights worke? Have not I
Shew'd my selfe Mistris of my art.
Are.
A Lady.
De.
That title makes the credit of the act
A story higher, y'ave not seene him yet,
I wonder what hee'le say.
Are.
He's here.
Ale.
Beare up
Enter Alexander and Fredericke.
My little Mirmidan, does not Iacke Littleworth
Follow?
Fre.
Follow? He fell into the Thames
At landing.
Alex.
The devill shall dive for him
Ere I endanger my silke stockings for him,
Let the Watermen alone, they have drags and engins,
When he has drunke his Julip, I shall laugh
To set him come in pickeld the next tide.
Fre.
Hee'le never sinke, he has such a corke braine.
Let him be hang'd or drown'd alls one to me,
Yet he deserves to die by water, cannot
Beare his wine credibly.
Fre.
Is not this my Aunt?
Ale.
And another hansome Lady, I must know her.
Fre.
My bloud is rampant too, I must court some body,
As good my Aunt, as any other body.
Are.
Where have you beene cozen?
Fre.
At the bridge,
At the Beares foote, where our first health began
To the faire Aretina, whose sweet company
Was wished by all, we could not get a lay,
a Tumbler, a Device, a bona roba
For any money, drawers were growne dull;
We wanted our true firkes and our vagaries;
When were you in drinke Aunt?
Are.
How?
Fr.
Do not Ladies
Play the good fellowes too? there's no true mirth
Without e'm, I have now such tickling fancies,
That Doctour of the chaire of wit, has read
A precious lecture, how I should behave
My selfe to Ladies, as now for example.
Are.
Would you practise upon me?
Fre.
I first salute you,
You have a soft hand Madam, are you so
All over?
Are.
Nephew.
Fre.
Nay you should but smile,
And then agen I kisse you; and thus draw
Off your white glove, and start to see your hand
More excellently white, I grace my owne
Lip with this touch, and turning gently thus,
Prepare you for my skill in Palmistry,
Which out of curiosity no Lady
But easily applies too, the first line
I tooke with most ambition to find out,
Is Venus girdle, a faire semicircle
Enclosing both the mount of Sol and Saturne,
If that appeare, she's for my turne, a Lady
Whom nature has prepar'd for the careere,
And Cupid at my elbow, I put forward,
You have this very line, Aunt.
Are.
The boy's franticke.
Fre.
You have a Couch or Palate, I can shut
The Chamber doore, enrich a stranger when
Are.
No more.
Fre.
Are you so coy to your owne flesh and bloud?
Al.
Here take your playfellow, I talke of sport,
And she would have me marry her.
Fre.
Heres Littleworth.
Enter Littleworth wet.
Why how now Tutour?
Lit.
I ha beene fishing.
Fr.
And what ha you caught?
Lit.
My belly full of water.
Al.
Ha ha, wheres thy rapier?
Lit.
My rapier's is drown'd,
And I am little better, I was up bi'th heeles,
And out came a tun of water beside wine.
Al.
'T has made thee sober.
Lit.
Would you have me drunk
With Water?
Are.
I hope your fire is quenched by this time.
Fre.
It is not now, as when your worship walkd
By all the tavernes Iacke, drie as a bone.
Al.
You had store of fish under water Iacke.
Lit.
It has made a poore Iohn of me.
Fre.
J doe not thinke but if we cast an angle
Jnto his belly, we might find some Pilchards.
Lit.
And boild by this time, deere Madam a bed.
Al.
Carry but the water Spaniel to a grasseplot
Where he may roule himselfe, let him but shake
His eares twice in the Sunne, and you may grind him
Into a posset.
Fre.
Come thou shalt to my bed
Poore pickerell.
De.
Alas sweete gentleman.
Lit.
I have ill lucke, and I should smell by this time,
I am but new tane I am sure, sweet gentlewoman.
De.
Your servant.
Lit.
Pray doe not plucke off my skin,
It is so wet, unlesse you have good eyes
You'le hardly know it from a shirt.
De.
Feare nothing.
Are.
He has sacke enough, and I may find his humor.
Exeunt.
Al.
And how ist with your Ladiship? you looke
Without a sunshine in your face.
Are.
You are glorious
In mind and habit.
Al.
Ends of gold and silver.
Are.
Your other clothes were not so rich, who was
Your tailor sir?
Al.
They were made for me long since,
They have knowne but two bright dayes upon my backe,
I had a humor Madam to lay things by,
They will serve two dayes more, I thinke I ha gold enough
To goe to'th Mercer, Ile now allow my selfe
Dependances, Beaver, silke stockings, garters,
And roses in their due conformitie,
Bootes are forbid a cleane legge, but to ride in,
My linnen every morning comes in new,
The old goes too great bellies.
Ar.
You are charitable.
Al.
I may dine w'ee sometime, or at the Court
To meete good company, not for the table,
My Clarke o'th Kitchins here, a witty Epicure,
A spirit that to please me with whats rare
Can flie a hundred mile a day to market,
And make me Lord of Fish and Foule, I shall
Forget there is a butcher, and to make
My footmen nimble, he shall feede on nothing
But wings of wildfoule.
Are.
These wayes are costly.
Al.
Therefore Ile have it so, I ha sprung a mine.
Are.
You make me wonder sir, to see this change
Of fortune, your revenew was not late
So plentifull.
Al.
Hang durty land and Lordships,
I wonot change one lodging I ha got
For the Chamber of London.
Are.
Strange of such a sudden,
To rise to this estate, no fortunate hand
At dice could lift you up so, for tis since
Last night, yesterday, you were no such Monarke.
Al.
There be more games then dice.
Are.
It cannot be
A Mistris, though your person is worth love,
None possibly are rich enough to feed
As you have cast the method of your riots,
A Princesse, after all her Jewels must
Be forc'd to sell her provinces.
Al.
Now you talke
Of Jewels? What doe you thinke of this?
Are.
A rich one.
Al.
You'le honour me to wear't, this other toy
I had from you, this chaine I borrowed of you,
A friend had it in keeping, if your Ladiship
Want any summe, you know your friend and Alexander.
Are.
Dare you trust my security.
Al.
There's gold,
I shall have more to morrow.
Are.
You astonish me, who can supply these?
Al.
A deare friend I have,
Are.
Not that I wish to know
More of your happinesse, then I have aready
Heart to congratulate, be pleasd to lay
My wonder.
Al.
Tis a secret.
Are.
Which ile die
Ere Ile betray.
Al.
You have alwayes wish'd me well,
But you shall sweare not to reveale the partie.
Are.
Ile lose the benefit of my tongue.
Alex.
Nor be
A fraid at what I say, what thinke you first
Of an old Witch, a strange ill favor'd hag
That for my company last night, has wrought
This cure upon my fortune? I doe sweat
To thinke upon her name.
Are
How sir a Witch?
Ale.
I would not fright your Ladiship too much
At first, but Witches are a kin to Spirits,
The truth is—nay if you looke pale already,
I ha done.
Are.
Sir I beseech you.
Ale.
If you have
But courage then to know the truth, ile tell you
In one word, my chiefe friend is the devill.
Are.
What devill? How I tremble.
Ale.
Have a heart,
Twas a shee divell too, a most insatiate
Abominable devill with a taile
Thus long.
Are.
Goodnesse defend me, did you see her?
Al.
No twas i'th darke, but she appeard first to me
I'th likenesse of a Bedlam, and was brought
I know not how, nor whither, by two Goblins,
More hooded than a Hawke.
Are.
But would you venter
Vpon a devill?
Al.
I for meanes.
Are.
How blacke
An impudence is this? But are you sure
It was the devill you enjoy'd.
Al.
Say nothing,
I did the best to please her, but as sure
As you live, twas a Helcat.
Are.
De'e not quake?
Al.
I found my selfe the very same in i'th morning,
Where two of her familiars had left me.
Enter Servant.
Ser.
My Lord is come to visite you.
Al.
No words,
As you respect my safety, I ha told tales
Out of the devills schoole, if it be knowne
I lose a friend, tis now about the time
I promis'd her to meete agen, at my
Exit.
Are.
Tis a false glasse, sure I am more deform'd,
What have I done, my soule is miserable.
Enter Lord.
Lor.
I sent you a letter Madam.
Are.
You exprest
Your noble care of me my Lord.
Enter Bornwell, Celestina.
Bor.
Your Lordship
Does me an honour.
Lor.
Madam I am glad
To see you here, I meant to have kist your hand
Ere my returne to Court.
Cel.
Sir Thomas has
Prevaild to bring me to his trouble hither.
Lor.
You doe him grace.
Bor.
Why whats the matter Madam?
Your eyes are tuning Lachrimæ.
Are.
As you
Doe hope for heaven withdraw, and give me but
The patience of ten minutes.
Born.
Wonderfull!
I wonot heare you above that proportion,
Shee talkes of heaven, come, where must we to counsell?
Ar.
You shall conclude me when you please.
Bo.
I follow.
Lor.
What alteration is this? I that so late
Stood the temptation of her eye, and voyce,
Boasted a heart, 'bove all licentious flame,
At second veiw turne renegade, and thinke
I was too superstitious, and full
Of phlegme not to reward her amorous Courtship
With manly freedome.
Cel.
I obey you sir.
Bor.
Ile waite upon your Lordship presently.
Lor.
She could not want a cunning to seeme honest
When I neglected her, I am resolv'd,
You still looke pleasant Madam.
Cel.
I have cause
My Lord, the rather for your presence, which
Hath power to charme all trouble in my thoughts.
Lor.
I must translate that complement and owe
All that is cheerefull in my selfe to these
All quickning smiles, and rather than such bright
Eyes should repent their influence upon me,
I would release the aspects, and quit the bountie
Of all the other starres; Did you not thinke me
A strange and melancholy gentleman
To use you so unkindly.
Cel.
Me my Lord?
Lor.
I hope you made no loude complaint, I wod not
Cel.
For what my Lord?
Lor.
I did not meete that noble entertainment,
You were late pleasd to shew me.
Cel.
I observd
No such defect in your Lorship, but a brave
And noble fortitude.
Lor.
A noble folly
I bring repentance fort, I know you have
Madam a gentle faith, and wonot ruine
What you have built to honour you.
Cel.
Whats that?
Lor.
If you can love, ile tell your Ladiship.
Cel.
I have a stubborne soule else.
Lor.
You are all
Composd of harmony.
Cel.
What love de'e meane?
Lor.
That which doth perfect both, Madam you have heard
I can be constant, and if you consent
To grace it so, there is a spacious dwelling
Prepar'd within my heart for such a Mistrisse.
Cel.
Your Mistris, my good Lord?
Lor.
Why my good Lady?
Your sexe doth hold it no dishonour
To become Mistris to a noble servant
In the now court, Platonicke way, consider
Who tis that pleades to you, my birth, and present
Value can be no staine to your embrace,
But these are shadowes when my love appeares,
Which shall in his first miracle returne
Me in my bloome of youth, and thee a Virgin,
When I within some new Elisium
Of purpose made and meant for us, shall be
In every thing Adonis, but in his
Contempt of love, and court thee from a Daphne
Hid in the cold rinde of a bashfull tree,
With such warme language, and delight, till thou
Leape from that bayes into the queene of love,
And pay my conquest with composing garlands
Of thy owne mirtle for me.
Cel.
Whats all this?
Lor.
Consent to be my Mistris Celestina,
And we will have it Spring-time all the yeare,
Vpon whose invitations when we walke,
The windes shall play soft descant to our feete,
And breathe rich odors to repure the aire,
Greene bowers on every side shall tempt our stay,
The red rose shall grow pale, being neere thy cheeke,
And the white blush orecome with such a forehead,
Here laid, and measuring with our selves some banke,
A thousand birds shall from the woods repaire,
And place themselves so cunningly, behinde
The leaves of every tree, that while they pay
As tribute of their songs, thou shat imagine
The very trees beare musicke, and sweet voyces
Doe grow in every arbour, here can we
Embrace and kisse, tell tales, and kisse agen,
And none but heaven our rivall.
Cel.
When we are
Weary of these, what if we shift our Paradise?
And through a grove of tall and even pine,
Descend into a Vally, that shall shame
All the delights of Tempe, upon whose
Greene plush the graces shall be cald to dance
To please us, and maintaine their Fairy revells,
To the harmonious murmurs of a streame
That gently falls upon a rocke of pearle,
Here doth the Nimph forsaken Eccho dwell,
To whom we'le tell the story of our love,
Till at our surfet and her want of joy,
We breake her heart with envy, not farre off
A grove shall call us to a wanton river,
To see a dying Swan give up the ghost,
The fishes shooting up their teares in bubbles
That they must lose the Genius of their waves,
And such love linsey woolsey, to no purpose.
Lor.
You chide me hansomely, pray tell me how
You like this language.
Cel.
Good my Lord forbeare.
Lor.
You neede not flie out of this circle Madam,
These widowes so are full of circumstance,
Ile undertake in this time I ha courted
Your Ladiship for the toy, to ha broken ten,
Nay twenty colts, Virgins I meane, and taught em
The amble, or what pace I most affected.
Cel.
Y'are not my Lord agen, the Lord I thought you,
And I must tell you now, you doe forget
Lor.
You'le not be angry Madam.
Cel.
Nor rude, though gay men have a priviledge,
It shall appeare, there is a man my Lord
Within my acquaintance, rich in worldly fortunes,
But cannot boast any descent of bloud,
Would buy a coate of armes.
Lor.
He may, and legges
booted and spurr'd to ride into the countrey.
Cel.
But these will want antiquitie: my Lord
The seale of honour, whats a coate cut out
But yesterday to make a man a gentleman?
Your family as old, as the first vertue
That merited an Escucheon, doth owe
A glorious coat of armes, if you will sell now
All that your name doth challenge in that ensigne,
Ile helpe you to a chapman, that shall pay
And powre downe wealth enough fort.
Lor.
Sell my armes?
I cannot Madam.
Cel.
Give but your consent,
You know not how the state may be enclind
To dispensation, we may prevaile
Vpon the Heralds office afterward.
Lor.
Ile sooner give these armess to'th hangmans axe,
My head, my heart, to twenty executions
Than sell one atome from my name.
Cel.
Change that,
And answer him would buy my honour from me.
Honour that is not worne upon a flagge
Or pennon, that without the owners dangers,
An enemy may ravish, and beare from me,
But that which growes and withers with my soule,
Beside the bodies staine, think, thinke my Lord
To what you would unworthily betray me,
If you would not for price of gold, or pleasure,
(If that be more your idoll) lose the glory
And painted honour of your house—I ha done.
Lor.
Enough to rectifie a Satires bloud,
Obscure my blushes here.
Enter Sentlove and Hairecut.
Ha.
Or this or fight with me,
It shall be no exception that I waite
Vpon my Lord, I am a gentleman,
You may be lesse and bea Knight, the office,
I doe my Lord is honest sir, how many
Sent.
Tis no feare of your sword, but that I wod not
Breake the good lawes established against duells.
Ha.
Off with your periwig, and stand bare.
Lor.
From this
Minute ile be a servant to thy goodnesse,
A Mistris in the wanton sence is common,
Ile honor you with chaste thoughts, and call you so.
Cel.
Ile study to be worth your faire opinion.
Lor.
Sentlove, your head was usd to a covering,
Beside a hat, when went the haire away.
Sent.
I laid a wager my Lord with Hairecut,
Who thinkes I shall catch cold, that ile stand bare
This halfe houre.
Ha.
Pardon my ambition
Madam, I told you truth, I am a gentleman,
And cannot feare that name is drown'd in my
Relation to my Lord.
Cel.
I dare not thinke so.
Ha.
From henceforth call my service duty Madam,
That Pigges head that betraid me to your mirth,
Is doing penance for't.
Sent.
Why may not I
My Lord begin a fashion of no haire.
Cel.
Doe you sweat sir william.
Sent.
Not with store of nightcaps.
Enter Aretina, Bornwell.
Are.
Heaven has dissolv'd the clouds that hung upon
My eyes, and if you can with mercy meet
A penitent, I throw my owne will off,
And now in all things obey yours, my nephew
Send backe agen to'th colledge, and my selfe
To what place you'le confine me.
Bor.
Dearer now
Than ever to my bosome, thou shat please
Me best to live at thy owne choice, I did
But fright thee with a noise of my expences,
The summes are safe, and we have wealth enough,
If yet we use it nobly? My Lord—Madam,
Pray honour to night.
Are.
I begge your presence,
And pardon.
Bor.
I know not how my Aretina
May be disposd to morrow for the country.
Cel
You must not goe, before you both have done
Me honour to accept an entertainment,
Where I have power, on those termes I'me your guest.
You grace us Madam.
Are.
Already
I feele a cure upon my soule, and promise
My after life to vertue, pardon heaven,
My shame yet hid from the worlds eye.
De.
Sweet Madam.
Enter decoy.
Ar.
Not for the world be seene here, we are lost,
Ile visite you at home; but not to practise
What she expects, my counsell may recover her.
Enter Alexander.
Al.
Wheres Madam? pray lend me a little money,
My spirit has deceiv'd me, Proserpine
Has broke her word.
Are.
Doe you expect to find
The devill true to you.
Al.
Not too loud.
Are.
Ile voyce it
Louder, to all the world your horrid sinne,
Vnlesse you promise me religiously,
To purge your foule bloud by repentance sir.
Al.
Then I'me undone.
Are.
Not while I have power
To encourage you to vertue, ile endeavour
To find you out some nobler way at Court
To thrive in.
Al.
Doo't, and ile forsake the devill,
And bring my flesh to obedience; you shall steere me,
My Lord—your servant.
Lor.
You are brave agen.
Al.
Madam your pardon.
Bor.
Your offence requires
Humility.
Al.
Low as my heart. Sir Thomas
Ile sup with you, a part of satisfaction.
Bor.
Our pleasures coole, musicke, and when our Ladies
Are tired with active motion, to give
Them rest in some new rapture to advance
Full mirth, our soules shall leape into a dance.
Exeunt.
FINIS.
| The Lady of Pleasvre | |