 | Amends for Ladies |  |
Subt.
Shee is not to be cast.
Hus.
It cannot be: had you a wife, and I were in your
case.
I would be hang'd euen at the chamber doore
Where I attempted, but i'le lay her flat.
Subt.
Why tell me truely, would it please you best,
To haue her remaine chast, or conquered.
Husb.
Oh friend it would do me good at the heart
To haue her ouercome, shee do's so brag
And stand vpon her chastitie forsooth.
Subt.
Why then in plaine termes Sir, the fort is mine,
Your wife has yeelded, vp-tailes is her song,
The deed is done, come, now, be merrie man.
Husb.
Is the deed done indeed? come, come, you jest,
Has my wife yeelded? is vptailes her song?
Faith come, in prose, how got you to the matter first, ha.
Pish, you are so bashfull now.
Subt.
Why, by my troth i'le tell you, because you are my
friend, otherwise you must note it is a great hurt to the art
of whooremasterie to discouer, besides the skill was neuer
mine o'th price.
Husb.
Very good, on sir.
Subt.
At the first she was horrible stiffe against me, then
Sir I tooke her by the hand, which I kiss'd.
Husb.
Good Sir.
Subt.
And I cal'd her pretie Rogue, and I thrust my finger
betwixt her breasts, and I made lips; at last, I pul'd her
by the chin to me, and I kist her.
Husb.
Hum, very good.
Subt.
So at the first, she kist very strangely, close, & vntoward;
then said I to her, thinke but vpon the wrongs, the
intollerable wrong, the rogue your Husband does you.
Hus.
I that was very good, what said she to you then sir?
Subt.
Nay, I went on. First quoth I, thinke how he hath
vs'd you, left you no meanes, giuen all your clothes to his
Punckes, struck you, turn'd your gray eies into black ones,
but yet—
Husb.
A pretie conceit.
Subt.
Quoth I, these things are nothing in the Rascoll,
thinke but what a base Whoore-master, the Rascoll is.
Husb.
Did you call me Rascoll so often are you sure.
Subt.
Yes, and oftner, for said I, none comes amisse to
vnder hedges in the riding of ten mile, and I swore
this to.
Hus.
Twas verie well, but you did lie. On I pray.
Sub.
Pish, one must lie a little, now sir by this time shee
began to kisse some what more openly, and familiarlie, her
resistance began to slacken, and my assault began to stiffen,
the more her Bulwarke decai'd, the more my batterie fortified,
at last sir, a little fumbling being past to make the Conquest
more difficult, shee perceauing my readines mounted,
fals me flat vpon her backe, cries mee out aloud
My sort, that like Troy towne, ten yeares hath stood
Beseig'd and shot at did remaine vnwon:
But now tis conquer'd. So the deede was done.
Hus.
Then came the hottest seruice. Forward with your tale sir.
Sub.
Nay Cætera, quis nescit, lassi requieuimus ambo: Proueniant medii sic mihi sæpe dies.
Hus.
Which is as much to say: I am a Cuckold, in all Languages,
but sure tis not so, It is impossible my wife should
yeeld.
Sub.
Hoyday, ene now, it was impossible she should hold
out, and now it is impossible she should yeeld, stay you but
heere & be an eare witnes to what followes, Ile fetch your
wife.—I know he will not stay.
Exit.
Hus.
Good faith Sir but he will. I doe suspect some knauerie
in this.
Here will I hide my selfe, when thought as gone,
If they doe ought vnfitting I will call
Witnesse, and straight way sue a diuorce.
Enter Wife and Svbtill.
Sub.
I knew hee would not stay. Now noble Mistrisse,
I claime your promise.
Wife.
What was that good seruan
Sub.
That you would lie with me.
Wife.
If with anie man,
But prithee first consider with thy selfe
If I should yeeld to thee, what a load thy Conscience
May strike me, If I yet haue lost the truth,
Or whitenesse of the hand I gaue in Church,
And twill not be, thy happinesse (as thou thinkst)
That thou alone should'st make a woman fall,
That did resist all else, but to thy soule
A bitter Corasiue, that thou didst staine,
Vertue that else had stood immaculate,
Nor speake I this, as yeelding vnto thee,
For tis not in thy power, wert thou the sweet'st
Of natures Children, and the happiest,
To conquer me, nor in mineowne to yeeld,
And thus it is with euery pious wife.
Thy daylie railing at my absent Husband
Makes me indure thee worse, for let him doe
The most preposterous ill relishing things
To me, they seeme good, since my Husband does 'em,
Nor am I to reuenge or gouerne him,
And thus it should be with all vertuous Wiues.
Sub.
Poxe a this vertue and this chastetie,
Doe you know faire Mistresse, a young Gentleman
About this towne cald Bould, where did he lie
Last night, sweet Mistris, oh oh, are you catch'd,
I saw him slip out of the house this morne,
As naked as this truth, and for this cause
I haue tould your Husband that you yeelded to me,
And he I warrant you, will blaze it throughly,
As good doe now then as bee thought to doe.
Wife.
No, twill not be yet, thou iniurious man,
How wilt thou right me in my Husbands thoughts,
That on a false surmise, and spight hast tould,
A tale to breed vncurable discontent?
Bould was that ould wench that did serue the Widdow,
and thinking by this way to gaine her loue
Mist of his purpose, and was thus cashier'd,
Nor cares shee to proclame it to the world.
Su.
Zoons, I haue wrong'd you Mistris, On my knees
kneels
I aske you pardon, and will neuer more,
Till that foule wrong I haue bred in your Knight
I haue expeld, and set your loues aright.
Hus.
Which now is done alreadie, Madame, wife,
kneeles
Vpon my knees, with weeping eies, heau'd hands,
I aske thy pardon, oh sweet vertuous creature,
I prithee breake my head.
Wife.
Rise, rise, Sir pray:
You haue done no wrong to me, at least I thinke so;
Heauen hath preuented all my iniurie,
I doe forgiue and marrie you a new.
Come, we are all inuited to the weddings,
The Ladie Honor to the old rich Count.
Yong Bould vnto another Gentlewoman,
We and the Widdow are inuited thither,
Embrace and loue, henceforth more really,
Not so like worldlings.
Husb.
Heere then ends all strife
Thus false friends are made true, by a true wife.
Exeunt.
| Amends for Ladies | |