 | A Pleasant and VVitty Comedy : Called, A New Tricke to Cheat the Divell |  |
Actus Tertius
Scæne. 1.
Enter old Frier Bernard, and young Frier Iohn.Ber.
Now we have pass'd our more retired houres
To holy uses as our vowes compell;
In zealous and Religious excercises,
In Visitation of the weake and sicke,
To strengthen those that stagger with our prayers,
And ghostly counsell; now night calls us home
Unto our Cloyster, there to spend the rest
Of our late houres in thoughts contemplative,
Io.
Holy Father, I am affraid time hath prevented us,
'Tis now past Eight, and, but I much mistake,
I heard the warning of the Cloyster Bell,
Which tells us, if we reach not instantly
W'are for this night excluded.
Ber.
Mercy Heaven how swift time runs?
Io.
W'are now at Islington,
What hope have we to get to Crutched Friers
Before the Gates be shut, and the Keyes carried
Up to the Abbots Chamber?
Ber.
Thou say'st true, how shall we spend the night then?
Io.
We'le knocke here
At the next signe, the good man I know well,
Of honest conversation, of good life,
And yet a boone companion; one that loves
Good company, and to be merry with them.
He, if he be at home, will bid us welcome:
My Hostesse too, a sweet and smooth-fac'd wench,
Courteous and kind, and wondrous well belov'd
Of all her Neighbours; liberall to the Church,
And much commended for her Charity.
Let us not bauke her house.
Ber.
Knocke good Frier Iohn, and begge us a nights lodging.
Enter Woman.
Wo.
Who's that abroad so late?
Io.
For Charity those that would be admitted.
Wo.
Charity should be in bed at Mid-night.
Ber.
But Devotion should alwayes wake;
Where's the good man your Husband?
Wo.
Hee's gone from home, and that's a reason too
We shut up doores thus early; say, what are you?
Io.
Frier Bernard, and Frier Iohn.
Wo.
Religious men, and keepe unlawfull houres?
Ber.
'Tis no vaine pleasure,
Or evill purpose that hath kept us out,
But Christian zeale to visite and confirme
Them, for his sake to whom our lives are vow'd;
Wo.
'Twere suspitious for me, but a lone woman, he abroad,
To entertaine men of your ranke and place,
VVhose lusts have all bin question'd, and have drawne
Good women of best rumour and report,
Into foule scandall; therefore pardon me,
This night you get no entrance.
Ber.
My good Dame,
You see me aged, and farre spent in yeares,
Decrepit, and unfit for dalliance,
And should my youthfull Novice strive t'exceed
His Lawfull bounds, I am neere to counsell him,
But he was never guilty of such thoughts.
Io.
'Las my kind Dame, not I.
Ber.
Then grant us the least shelter, any place,
By or remote, to keepe us from the cold;
Stable, or Barne, if you be so provided,
Or any out Roome where's but hay, or straw
To wrap us in till Morning.
Wo.
Good, excuse mee.
Io.
Can you be so hard-hearted unto men
Of our so knowne Devotion?
Ber.
Grant us this, and you shall have the assistance of our prayers
In all our Trentalls, Masses, Dirges, Orisons,
Your soule shall be remembred; but if we
Should by your rude remorcelesse cruelty
Miscarry in our persons, in this raw
And so bleake cold; the price of our two lives
Must be of you exacted.
Wo.
Curse upon them,
No night but this to trouble me in? being ingaged
To better fare by appointment.
Ber.
Gentle Dame, for reverence of my yeares and gravity,
And for my Covents Order; for my Name
And my profession, grant Frier Bernard this
Harbour from Frost and Snow.
Wo.
VVell Frier, you shall,
But this provided, I will locke you up
To avoid suspition; you shall have fresh straw,
But other Bedding none, no fire nor Candle,
Beere, Ale, nor any such commodity,
Now in my Husband absence; so, pray enter,
And this I doe for Charity.
Ber.
Now Heavens Benison fall on thy head, that two
Religious men art so obsequious; gentle Novice, be
Civill and much observant, tis a courtesie
We scarce can find else where.
Io.
My holy Father,
I know it well; I am prescrib'd my limits,
Which I am willing with all zeale t'observe;
I would we knew our Lodging.
Ber.
All necessities are ever to bee pardon'd, once, like Horses,
Let's lodge in our owne Litter; I commend
The womans modesty, that is so curious,
Her Husband being from home, to avoyd scandall,
And mens base imputations.
Io.
So doe I,
'Tis one of our best Dames; but see, she comes
To give us entertainement
Enter the Woman.
Wo.
I have onely a Cock-loft, please you gentle Friers,
To make best use of that and some fresh straw,
Best harbour that my Husbands absence yeelds
Y'are welcome to.
Ber.
We entertaine it gladly,
And thanke you my good Dame, I am for sleepe,
That's this my nights ambition.
Wo.
Please you enter, but yet no further then Ile locke you in
Ile keepe the Key my selfe.
Io.
At your best pleasure.
Exeunt.
Enter Constable, with a Bottle of Wine, and Manchets.
Con.
My Watch is set, charge given, and all at peace,
But by the burning of the Candle blew,
Which I by chance espyed through the Lanthorne,
I smell a Frost; now to prevent this cold,
To which I am subject, I have made my Deputy,
Given up my staffe and power into his hands;
My selfe intending to spend all this night
Here, at an honest Neighbours; some provision
I have sent in, and some I have brought along,
A cast of Manchets, and a Bottle to
Of the best Wine in Turnball, which, they say
All London cannot better: Silent all,
None stirring neere, Ile knocke but softly for feare
Of waking Neighbours.
Wo.
Whose there?
Con.
'Tis I.
Wo.
Not Master Constable?
Con.
The same faire love.
Wo.
Have you dispos'd your Watch?
Con.
Yes, at yon further Corner.
Wo.
Not too loud, meane time I softly will sneake downe
The Staires, and softly let you in.
Con.
Gramercy wench; the kindest loving Neighbour the
Towne yeelds, the Hamlet cannot match her; a smug Lasse,
And one that knowes it too; I would not loose her
For halfe my state in the Parish, while I'me in Office,
She's safe as Mouse in Mill: Oh, are you come?
Wo.
I was in feare you would have broke with me,
But now I see y'are currant.
Con.
Sweet a kisse, and harke in thine eare.
Frier Iohn peepes out above.
Io.
Frier Bernard's fast, he snores and sleepes as
Snug as any Pigge in Pease-straw; but my selfe
Cannot once close an eye, which makes me wonder
That I am growe so wakefull.
Con.
Here's to thy good fat Pullet that's within,
Two fine Cheat Loaves were sent me from the Court,
A Cup of Nipsitate briske and neate;
The Drawers call it Tickle-braine, 'twill do't,
But is the Roast-meat ready?
Wo.
Piping hot, Ile goe fetch Salt and Trenchers.
Con.
Quicke, good Wench.
Io.
Dreame I? or i'st substantiall that I see?
Was this your cunning Dame, to locke us up
To feather our nests withall? not allow us drinke.
Food, nor a Candle, least we should fire the House,
For that is her excuse; fire on you both,
Have you these trickes? yet Godamercy cranny
That I can spy all this.
She brings in the Pullet.
Wo.
Now let's be merry, but in any case
Speake not too loud, least we should wake the Friers.
Con.
The Friers? what Friers?
Wo.
Two Abbey Lubbers that are lockt up fast,
Of whom I could not rid me; but I thinke
I have fitted them, they have neither light nor bed,
Nor any other Comfort.
Con.
Tush, no matter,
What's that to us? Come sweet, cut up the Pullet,
And after we'le to Bed.
Wo.
Doe you't, I am no Carver.
Io.
Doe you straine curtesies? had I it in fingering
I'de make you both make but a Fridayes feast;
Oh how the steame perfumes my Nostrils.
Con.
In faith it shall be thine.
Wo.
If I begin, may I ne're eate more.
Io.
Here's a third would do't, knew hee but how to come by't.
Con.
Well, since you'le force me to't,
I will make bold this once.
One knocks at the doore.
Wo.
If that should be my Husband?
Con.
Ha, what then?
Wo.
You were sham'd, I quite undone; he knockes againe;
Upon my life 'tis he.
Con.
What shall become of me?
Doest thou not thinke he'le spare an Officer?
But fall on the Kings Image?
Io.
So soone started?
Hus.
Why Nan, asleepe or dead?
Wo.
My Husbands voice, who's there?
Con.
Where, which way?
Wo.
Creepe beneath the Bed.
Hus.
Why do'st not open doore?
Now to convey these victuals hence, and put out the fire,
Lord Husband is it you? who lookt for you so late?
These shall into the Cupboord, if the smell
Betray's not w'are safe.
Con.
I, if my swell betray me not.
Hus.
Why do'st not rise?
Wi.
I have got such a cold, a cough withall,
I thought I should have dyed; stay but a little
Till I have cast my Petticoate about me,
Ile quickely let you in; the fire's quite out,
No signe of any Feast.
Hus.
I'me almost starved, prethee make hast.
Wo.
I am comming, good lye close, and if I can get him
Once to bed, I have a tricke to shift you.
Con.
I doe feele I had need of shift already.
Io.
Here's brave juggling?
For this night, Constable, I am your Watch;
Oh but the smoaking pullet.
Enter Host, and Hostesse.
Wo.
Lord Husband that you'le venter whom so late,
So many Knaves abroad?
Hus.
I feare no robbing, and for my Carkasse, I still beare
About me to defend that, I've travell'd hard to day,
And am very hungry prethee wife see what thou hast in the house?
Wo.
What, talke of Victuals now? is this a time of night?
Io.
I by my faith, for one that could come by't.
Hus.
Talke not to me, something I must and will have.
Wo.
Had I knowne
But of your comming home I had provided,
But now I pray to bed, this cold so troubles me.
Hus.
Cold troubles me, lay me some Faggots on.
Wo.
You see the fire's quite out.
Hus.
Ile have't reviv'd.
Wi.
You're such another man?
Husb.
See how she stirres?
Wo.
Would house and all were fir'd,
So some of us were out on't.
Iohn.
I for one.
Husb.
I would have had some company, I had not
That I could tell where to call up some good fellow
That I knew, we would not part these two houres.
Frier Iohn makes a noise in the Garret.
Io.
That's my Qu.
Hus.
Now blesse us wife, what noise is in the Garret?
Wo.
No hurt man; nay, pray will you to bed?
Hus.
Bed me no bedds, I'le know the reason of't.
Wo.
Two Friers shut from their Covents, wanting harbour,
Begg'd lodging with such importunity
They would not be deny'd; at length I pittied them,
And yet to make them sure, I lockt them fast
Up in the Straw-loft, and see, here's the Key,
Th'are fast enough for starting.
Hus.
Do'st thou know them?
Wo.
Frier Bernard, and Frier Iohn.
Hus.
Frier Bernard, and Frier Iohn? th'onely good Ladds
That I desir'd to meet with; I beshrew thee
They had no better welcome; goe, unlocke,
Intreat them hither, we will have one cup
To th'health of all their Covent.
Wo.
Call them up? What time shall we to bed then?
Hus.
Time enough, early betimes, nay, quick Nan, Frier Iohn there?
The bonniest Lad e're wore portace in a string,
Or mumbled Masse, or Mattins; I but wish'd
And see, 'tis come to passe; the other to,
Though he be strict of life, yet will sometimes
Be merry, if he like his company;
But my kind honest bald-pate, Frier Iacke,
Enter woman and Friers.
I shall be glad to see him; welcome faith,
With reverence, Father, to your gravity,
Be not offended if Frier Iohn and I
Be, not exceeding compasse, a little merry,
And play with the Pot; fill some in.
Wo.
To your bellies pots and all.
Ber.
Excesse, my Host, can purchase no excuse,
But modest mirth, transgressing not his true
And lawfull bounds, is good and commendable;
Hus.
Thankes good Frier Bernard,
Now as I live, would I had some good cheere,
No better then I would pay for; but she tells me
There's nothing to be compass'd.
Io.
The worse lucke; and yet I smell a supper.
Wo.
Not so much as a cantell of Cheese, or crust of bread,
That can this night be come by (for your throates,
Ile rather see you choakt.)
Hus.
But any fare that would content the stomacke.
Io.
Say you so? Ile try what I can doe.
Wo.
What a leering eye the Frier cast towards the Cupbord?
Io.
Bid my Dame provide Cloath, Salt, and Trenchers.
Hus.
But Frier Iohn, how shall we come by meate?
Io.
For such provision trust to my Art.
Ber.
By Art, can that be done?
Io.
Yes, by Art Magicke.
Ber.
Oh prophane, and fearefull!
Art Magicke! didst thou ever study that?
It is against our Order.
Io.
But not as I will order it, feare it not.
Hus.
Can Frier Iohn Conjure?
Io.
For a Supper, or so, but never durst deale further;
Will you furnish a Table fit for meate?
Hus.
Nan, when I say?
Wo.
We shall have now some fooling.
Ber.
What doth my Novice meane?
Io.
Good Father peace, no hurt to you nor me.
Hus.
Nor any heere?
Io.
That's furnish'd with a stomacke.
Dœmones, et Cacodœmones conjuro vos, surgite et venite.
No man stirre, is the Cloth laid, and all things fit for meat?
Wo.
You see to please you, we can doe any thing.
Io.
Now let me see,
What Christian Climate yeelds us the best bread?
Oh, the best wheat's in Spaine; what say you now
To a couple of Cheat Loves bak'd in Madrid,
And brought into this Chamber?
Would we might see them.
Io.
All vostro comando, Asterothe, il pane in hec camera presto.
Oh, now 'tis done; mine Host, put but your hand
Into that Corner and pull forth two Loaves.
Hus.
Are you in earnest?
Io.
But see what Art can doe.
Wo.
Pox on the Frier, have you these trickes?
Hus.
Two fine and delicate Manchets.
Io.
The best in Spaine, or Frier Iohn much mistakes:
Place them good mine Host, behind the Salt.
Hus.
I shall.
Io.
There's more behind.
Ber.
Not possible in Art.
Io.
Peace Father, more will be done anon;
What Climate yeelds the best French Grape?
My Spirit whispers Orleance Grape's the best,
What sayes mine Host to a pure Cup of Orleance?
Hus.
Faith I say, would I might see't.
Io.
Ie vou pre Monsieur Asterothe, once more
A Cup of Divine Claret; no, a Bottle of some two quarts,
Gramercy, thou hast done't, mine Host, but cast your eye
Upon that place, and you shall find it there.
Hus.
Most admirable, see, here's a Bottle full.
Io.
But taste mine Host, and try if it be right.
Wo.
Your Divells take you; you know where's the best liquor.
Hus.
Excellent stuffe, I ne're dranke better Clarret.
Ber.
How comes this?
Io.
No hurt to you still, Father.
Hus.
Bread and Drinke? how shall we come by Meate?
Io.
Let me see, there is a Midnight supper now served in
At Prague in Germany, where the Emperours Court
Lyes for the most part, and seldome is he absent;
Among all all other dainties, speake, what dish
Desire you from the Table?
Hus.
Any thing.
Io.
What say you to a Pullet piping hot,
Now standing on the Dresser?
Hus.
Nothing better.
Wo.
The Divell take all such smell-feasts.
But once more Ile employ thee, Asterothe,
For this night no more trouble thee. Veni, assiste,
& in hac re succurre; I smell the Pullet
Smoaking, and Sauce unto't.
Hus.
I, but where?
Io.
Somewhere about this Roome, who hath the Key
Of that same Cupboord?
Hus.
Marry Nan, my Wife.
Io.
Call for it, good mine Host,
You see I come neere nothing, use faire play,
Saw neither fire nor candle to provide this,
Toucht neither Locke nor Key within your house,
But was asleepe i'th'straw; unlocke mine Host,
See what the Cupboord yeelds.
Wo.
A poyson on thee, would it might prove so to thee,
It was never provided for those chopps.
Io.
What finde you there?
Hus.
A hot fat Pullet, newly dress'd and sauc'd.
I never heard the like,
Ber.
'Tis above wonder.
Io.
You see what Art can doe.
Ber.
Tell me, Frier Iohn?
Io.
Ile talke with you anon, in the meane time
Eate while 'tis hot, 't hath come a pretty Iourney,
And marvell 'tis not cold.
Hus.
Good wine, good bread, good victuals, stomacke good,
And all to meete together? nay fall to,
And he be thank'd that sent it.
Ber.
This to me appeares beyond imagination,
Nay, gentle Hostesse sit.
Io.
Many provide good Cates that tast them not,
Now blessing on their hearts.
Wo.
But curse on thine, and on thy stomacke too.
Hus.
I pray Frier Iohn, what spirit doe you deale with?
Io.
Aestroth, did you not heare me name him?
Hus.
And what's hee?
Io.
One of the foure great Spirits, that have Dominion
O're the foure quarters of the Earth: good Dame,
Me thinkes you doe not eate.
Wo.
I could eate thee.
Hus.
Could you not shew your Divell for a need,
Io.
In what shape?
Hus.
Why in his owne.
Io.
Oh 'tis too terrible, it would fright us all.
Hus.
Yet would I see him.
Io.
What, in his terrors? he would make you mad,
Distracted and amaz'd, yet, good mine Host,
To give you all content, I could be willing
To shew him but in some familiar shape,
Such as should not affright you.
Hus.
With all my heart.
Io.
Have you no Neighbour whom you best affect, whose
Shape he might assume t'appeare lesse terrible?
Hus.
Yes, twenty I could name.
Io.
Soft, let me pause;
It must be some that still wake at these houres,
We have no power o're sleepers; say I bring him
In person of some Watchman?
Hus.
No shape better.
Io.
Or in the habit of your Constable?
Hus.
Why hee's my honest Gossip.
Io.
Why then his.
Wo.
More scurvy trickes Frier Iohn, I may live to cry quittance with you.
Io.
But mine Host, resolve me one thing; should great
Asterothe appeare to you in your Gossips shape,
How would you deale with him?
Hus.
Why as my friend, my Neighbour, and my Gossip.
Io.
No such thing; you must imagine him what he appeares,
An evill spirit, to kicke him, and defie him,
As you would doe the Divell, otherwise
When you are late abroad, and we gone hence,
He'le haunt your house hereafter.
Hus.
Feare not that,
If kickes and spurnes will drive the Divell hence,
Ile helpe to send him packing.
Io.
I must tell you, 'tis meerely for your owne good,
Appeare Asteroth, Asteroth appeare from underneath the bed
In shape of Master Constable; do't when I say't, Not yet?
Excruciabo te Asteroth, in jam jam jam apparebis.
Or have your house still haunted.
Hus.
Will kickes do't?
Let me alone to conjure him, pox on the Divell,
He hath put me in a sweat.
Wo.
Ile after him, and least he should beare downe part
Of the house, Ile let him out of doores.
Hus.
Yes, doe good Nan; I thinke Frier Iohn
I have bumbasted the Devill; thankes for our Supper,
French wine, and Spanish Loaves, I never tasted meat
That more contented me.
Ber.
But how came this?
Io.
Ile tell you by the way; no questions now:
Now good mine Host we see the night quite spent
And the bright day starre rising in the East;
We'le take our leaves; make much of our good Dame,
And thinke no worse of your good Officer,
Your Gossip and your Neighbour, in whose forme
Asteroth so late appear'd.
Hus.
Good night Frier Iohn, and holy Father Bernard,
Ber.
Rather good morrow.
Io.
Onely commend us to my Dame your wife,
And thanke her for our Lodging.
Exeunt
Scæn. 2
Enter Lord Skales, Treatwell, Roger, and Geffrey.Lo.
My Rivall so dejected?
Gef.
'Tis most true, you never saw a man so strang debauch't;
He hath not onely run out all his fortune,
But even his sences; I had once my Lord,
Some small dependance on him, but his riot
Hath almost ruin'd me.
Lo.
And what's thy Suite?
Gef.
Your Lordships Cloth and countenance.
Lo.
Thou shalt have't
See, Master Treatwell, that his name b'inrold
Among my other Servants; let my Steward
Tre.
Sir, I shall.
Rog.
Preferr'd already? may I live to see thee
Advanc'd some few steps higher, to the Gallowes.
Lo.
What fellow's that?
Gef.
One of my fellowes once.
Lo.
And will he serve?
Rog.
Yes, one that he did never, nor I thinke ne're will,
Yet a Lord too.
Lo.
Wil't thou depend on me?
Rog.
I thanke you, no; were there no other Masters
On the Earth, I am no man for you.
Lo.
Thy reason friend?
Rog.
Because the last I had, I lost by you, a Man, that
Save his Title, better'd you, or any of your blood.
Gef.
Brave my Lord?
Rog.
Long you to have your Teeth pickt? Ile find time
To talke with you hereafter.
Tre.
A bold fellow; give him scope, my Lord.
Rog.
He was a Gentleman descended well,
As ancient as your selfe, as well endow'd
With all the gifts of Nature; better tuter'd,
For he could write true Scholler, which few Lords
In these dayes practise; not ambitious,
Nor yet base thoughted, for he kept the meane,
And aimed but at his equall; you in this
Come short of; for you, lesse noble breasted,
Have stoop'd to your inferiour.
Lo.
Suffer this?
Tre.
Nay good my Lord have patience; heare him speake.
Rog.
Thinke you, you could have better'd him in valour?
He was too full of fire, witnesse his spirit,
Most worthy of a Roman Character;
That being oppress'd, and onely crost in her,
He lost himselfe in all things; and shall I
Serve him, by whom a graft of his faire hope
Is by his Whale-like Title swallow'd up?
And feede at his Boord that hath famish'd him
That was my Master? let such Sycophants doe't,
That to their Lords affections suite their service,
Lye, cogge, and flatter, Pimpe, and Pandarise,
And so farewell, good fellow.
Lo.
Is he such?
Rog.
I speake sir of my fellow, he's now none
For he attends your Lordship.
Tre.
This fellowes bluntnesse
Doth somewhat better than at first,
Whom wilt thou follow now?
Rog.
Him, to his Grave, or to his better fortunes;
Blesse your Lordship.
Exit.
Tre.
I doe not thinke but under that rough brow
Is lodg'd an honest heart; they are best servants
Whom want, penurious neede, and poverty
Cannot fright from their Masters.
Ent. Chan. and his Wife.
Lo.
Oh Master Changeable, how is't with your Daughter?
Chan.
Nought, nought.
Wi.
Peace you, all will be well, I hope; yet peevish, but
It will bring plyantnes: 'tis comming on a pace.
Ch.
You heare that newes of M. Slightals frenzy, and his undoing?
Wi.
And yet your wisedome would have match'd your
Daughter unto that spend-thrift Begger.
Lo.
This his servant, since entertain'd by me hath told me al.
Gef.
And nothing more than truth.
Chan.
Vse you your humours,
And jest at his distresse; but when I thinke
What he hath bin of late, what come to now,
I cannot chuse but sorrow; and the more
When I Record the ground of his distresse;
But my soule's cleare of all.
Enter Anne.
An.
You are a Noble Theife.
Lord.
Ha?
An.
You are a gentle foole.
Chan.
How?
An.
I am as cold as Ice, and you a scold,
Wi.
Minion. how?
An.
You are a Trencher friend.
Tre.
That meant by mee?
An.
And thou a slave and Pander.
Gef.
Speake it not, Ile not beleeve it Mistris.
An.
This Ile prove.
Why Daughter, daughter?
Wi.
Sure the Girle's growne franticke.
An.
Faith mother a mad wench, I thanke my starres.
Wi.
Star me no starrs.
An.
Why mother, can you scold?
Chan.
Yes for a need.
Lo.
But Mistris Changeable, why did you call me these?
An.
Stand but in row, and as I am a woman
Ile make all this good; you here, you there,
And every one in order: First, in particuler,
And next in generall I will goe over you.
Lo.
I pray you doe.
An.
A noble Thiefe, that was your Character,
Some by the high way robbe; some are Sea Theeves,
We commonly call 'em Pirats; some breake houses,
And others snap at stals, some cunningly
Dive into Pockets, whistlers, others lifts;
Some are Poeticall Theeves, and steale by wit,
One from another plots, and projects, cheates,
And decoyes; but all these under Theeves,
And steale but petty trash: but you more great,
Under pretext of your Nobility,
And countenance in Court, have from a Husband
Stolne a contracted and a married Wife;
For Contract upon Earth, in Heaven is marriage;
And celebrate by Angels.
Chan.
But why foole?
An.
A gentle foole, such are your patient Husbands,
That yeeld their wives the Breeches.
Wi.
Is he such? how now bold huswife, baggage, peevish
Thing, rude, disobedient, apish, and perverse,
Irregular, hare brain'd, harsh and obstinate?
An.
You see, she need not put me to my proofe,
Her tongue will do't it selfe.
Tre.
But Trencher friend?
An.
I pray your name?
Tre.
Treatwell.
An.
Take but the two first letters from your name,
I tak't, 'tis Eate-well.
Gef.
But all this Mistris, makes not me a Pander.
No, but when thou first was't base Baud to the riots
Of thy first Master, thou mad'st thy selfe such.
But now in generall let me see;
The Prince is not without his flatterer,
The Noble man his Secretary,
The Lawyer his Attourney,
The Justice his Clarke,
The Physitoan his Apothecary,
The Usurer his Scrivener,
The Extortioner his Broker,
Nor the Lady cannot be without her Gentleman Usher;
Your Citizens Wife her Iourney-man,
Your Country Wench her Sweet-heart,
Your Tobacco woman her Pipe-maker,
And every Whore her Pander.
Farewell Geffry; God be with you Gentle-folkes.
Exit.
Chan.
Oh wife, wife, wife.
Lo.
Nay good sir spare your teares,
She hath hit us all alike; this her ingeniousnesse
Adds to her beauty, not detracts at all;
I love her nere the worse, nor any here
Whom her discourse hath touch't: 'tis witty frenzy,
And no malicious cancor; so I take it:
Nay grieve not you good woman, whom e're long
I hope to Title Mother; doubt it not, all shall be well.
Tre.
But eate well.
Lo.
Let not that sticke in thy stomacke, never could'st thou
Light on a more faire and sweet Godmother,
To give thee a name; Ile have all friends, let's in,
And comfort the sad Gentleman, and after to supper.
Gef.
Where I'le try how neere of Kin I am to this
Gentleman, and shew my selfe an Eate-well.
Exeunt.
| A Pleasant and VVitty Comedy : Called, A New Tricke to Cheat the Divell | |