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The fourth Scœne.
Enter Littlevvord, Ierker and Ieffery, by the right Scœne.Ierk.
Friend Art-love, the good fortune of a petticote
light upon thee, in the name of Venery what mak'st thou
here? art' in quest of a smock-bedfellow.
Artl.
Thy old humour still friend.
Jerker.
Prethee salute this little gentleman my Cousin:
he hath more age and wit then his small proportion doth
promise.
Artl.
I shall be ready to serve him.
Ieffr.
Your acquaintance will adde much to my happinesse.
He hath gotten leave of his Vncle to liue here in
my tuition. Hee thrive's well in his conceit, a right Ierker;
he begins to love a wench already.
Art.
Thy instruction and example will soone enable
him that way.
Ieffr.
Is not that a wench Cousin?
Ierk.
Try Cos, and satisfie your selfe.
Ieffr.
Mr Little-word, if your salute be ended, pray resigne.
Nay, Mistris, I can kisse you without the helpe
of a joyn'd stoole: please you to walke, and let my hand
support you.
Tong.
Whither pray you little sir?
Ieffr.
To the next vaulting schoole.
Tong.
Alas, you cannot get up without a stirrop.
Ieff.
Yes, and ride too without falling: please yon to
trye my activenesse.
Art.
Prethee recall thy wonted goodnesse home,
And with a vertuous scorne shake off this habit
Of loose desires; it hath infection in it.
Ierk.
Nothing comes from thee but documents. I
sweare I should love thee much better if thou hadst lesse
vertue. I prethee leave thy Stoicisme, and become an Epicure
with me. My little Cos. here shall prove with undenyable
arguments that drinking and wenching are the onely
vertues in a gentleman of the last edition: to be excellent
at them is a master-piece of education. Besides, they
are the onely acumens of wit.
Artl.
Yes, to disease it.
Ierk.
Take heed thy iudgement be not brought in question.
Why diseas'd wits are—
Ieffr.
Better play at small game then sit out. A young
gamester may throw in and in.
Tong.
Very seldome with three dice. Can your littlenesse
cogge?
Ieffr.
Faire play is a gamesters glory. I love to shake the
boxe well, and then let them run their length.
Yes, I confesse it; where there is an union
Of loving hearts, the joy exceed's expression.
That love is vertuous whose desires doe never
End in their satisfaction, but increase
Towards the object. When a beautious frame
Garnish't with all the lustre of perfection
Invite's the eye, and tells the searching thoughts
It holds a richer minde, with which my soule
Would rather mixe her faculties.
Ieffr.
Iudge not of a man by his outward dimensions:
My shape is not so defective to make you doubt performance:
let's finde out a convenient place and try.
Tong.
Alas little one, you'l lose your selfe: you'l never
hit the way home.
Ierker.
'Tis a blisse above the faign'd Elysium
To claspe a dainty waste; to kisse a lip
Melts into Nectar; to behold an eye
Shoot amorous fires, that would warme cold Statues
Into a life and motion; play with hayre
Brighter then that was stellifyed.
And when the wanton appetite is cloy'd
With thousand satisfactions of this kind,
Then follow's th'absolutenesse
Of all delight. But were desire restrain'd
From variation, soone 'twould satiate,
And glut it selfe to loathing.
Ieffr.
Please you to drinke a pint or two of wine? there
may be provocation in it.
Tong.
Preserve your courtesie child, and your money:
Lent's at hand, and then every street wll afford boyes recreation.
Ieff.
Why how now impudence! do you flout a Man?
Ierk.
How, a man Cousin!
Ieffr.
I want not so much of my full age to bee cal'd
a boy.
Artl.
But you must not fall out with the Gentlewoman.
I desire rather to have fal'n in with her.
Ierk.
I would not have you so forward Cousin. You
must be sure to deale with sound ware.
Ieffr.
What care I? 'tis but the losse of a mans hayre;
an excrementall ornament: wit consists not in't. A man
may cover his baldnesse with a periwig, and the fashion
take's away the suspition. I hope I came to London to
learne wit and the fashion.
Tong.
Come Mr. Little-word.
Artl.
Adiew Mistris Tongall.
Exeunt Tongall and Little-word, by the right Scœne.
Ieffr.
I tooke her rather for a Wag-taile.
Art.
What silent Gentleman's that?
Ierk.
His Character in his owne language is I and no;
yet he speaks well in paper. He is a wit, but somewhat
a dull one.
Artl.
What serious affaire have they together?
Ierk.
There are hidden pollicies in the world. Thou
hast a bookish humour; I a wenching one; and why may
not his dulnes dreame of some rich match! Mris. Tongal's
the onely match-maker in the Towne.
Artl.
Those words create a hell of torment in me.
Is there no love
But what's attended by vaine jealousie!
Ierk.
Art thou in love?
Artl.
Yes, passionately.
My dreamings, wakings, thoughts and actions
Are nothing but desire.
Ierk.
I can assoone credit an impossibility. Thou in
love! why 'tis more improbable then the projection of
draining Marsh-land with a wind-mill. But prethee what
is shee?
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