The Warde | ||
scena 2
enter Sir Francis Caster, Honoria his lady, & James SelcottageSir Francis.
—Reported this for certaine.
Honor.
yes to your cost youl find it; now youl feele
your vanities at Ticktack, and backgammon;
your madde & furious zeale unto Primeiro
Sant, Primavistae, cribbage, & new cutt;
gleeke, hazard, In & Inne; Palmaile & tennis;
and all your other city Vanities,
which cause a dead, & a mortifyde estate.
Sir Fran.
why? what can these games hurt? we must do somethinge
we gentlemen: some take your clean Tobacco
or some your fowler whiffe; some hunt away
their praetious time after a fearefull hare;
hare,
that flyes away, as they doe from their time,
o swiftly, monstrous swiftly; another spends
all the corrasions of his braine & purse
upon some mooving Image, which can't stirre
without her horses of the Sun; nor burne in love
at noe place, but at phoenix: yet a fifth
runs on the greene the price of a whole mannour,
either at bowles, or on his horses backe.
I have beene spending, but a paltry pars'nage
a thing impropriate, unfittinge to be kept
though paid for by a layman: & that's in sute
too.
Honoria.
yet it might serve to buy your children bread
if you would keepe it.—
Sir Francis.
children, foh! poore triflers
morsels of mans flesh, sprawling stale decoctions
of sacke, & lusty beefe—chines—
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fy. for shame!
Sir Fran.
I say they are but minoms, but Ile make
them semiquavers, & whole quavers too
before I leave them off—
James S.
hard unto all but boxes; post & peare
with the square trencher.—
Sir Fran.
yould have your brats maintain'd like the young ward,
(my great legd cosen of the Kentish Kind)
in satin sleeves, a pinkt lac't coate;
Thus I doe heare he goes; but for a ward,
I doubt not on't, & then.—
Honor.
what then? why lives hee not to keepe thee out?
Sir Fran.
puh! I have a budget bought of an Attorney
and in that one, or two, or more fine bills
that may bode somewhat.—
James.
pray Sir your augury.
Sir Fran.
Admit Sir Wary dies, as dye he must,
(hees aged now, & sinking, spent in the lunges)
Ile sue for an entaile, of all the land
unto our family: the which in time of yore,
was promised before witnesse; & the last
is not yet Cancelld.—
James.
will the witnesse doe
their best endeavours for you?
Sir Fran.
yes, noe doubt.
I'le send them some good Angells for subpaenaes
and oyle their tounges with the most happy Juice,
the Latins Call, aurum potabile—
Honor.
that's a good liquour: would our well would flow
such phisique, but for one good draught or twoo.
Sir Fran.
And then I have a friend, my brother Hollowheart,
but for a paire of gloves, your cordevant,
tasseld with blacke, will frame a new Indenture
& make him set, his hand to'ot, with commendinge
the papermill.—
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a pretty fetch to bring him on: they say
he will doe anything, if you once Commend
the papermill—.
Sir Fran.
if this be not compleat, I have another
will take exactly: Ile persuade my Brother
good Mr Hollowheart, to draw in by witt
mee as a feoffee, for the deed of guift
he meanes to make in trust of all his land
to cut of thirds & wardship.—
Honor.
that's a good one—
Jam.
It savours well.—
Sir Fran.
but I dare say theyle proove but projects. death
is ready for my younglinge: assoone a lambe
as an old sheep.—
Honor.
Tis sometimes true. yet rely not on't.
Sir Fran.
I say he Cannot live; all the generation
have a strange trick: they never vomit, but
but—
up come their lunges.
Honor.
now god forefend.
Sir Fran.
yes faith.
Hon.
well god's will be done.
Sir Francis.—meane time Ile play.
whilst my estate can make it holliday.
Finis Ac 2 scena 2
The Warde | ||