 | The Wild-Goose Chase |  |
Scena Tertia.
Enter Rosalura, and Oriana.Ros.
Ne'r vex your self, nor grieve; ye are a fool then.
Or.
I am sure I am made so: yet before I suffer
Thus like a girl, and give him leave to triumph—
Ros.
You say right; for as long as he perceives ye
Sink under his proud scornings, he'll laugh at ye:
For me, secure your self; and for my Sister,
I partly know her mind too: howsoever
To obey my Father we have made a tender
Of our poor beauties to the travail'd Mousieur;
Yet two words to a bargain; he slights us
As skittish things, and we shun him as curious.
May be my free behaviour turns his stomach,
And makes him seem to doubt a loose opinion.
I must be so sometimes, though all the world saw it.
Or.
Why should not ye? Are our minds only measur'd?
As long as here ye stand secure.
Ros.
Ye say true;
As long as mine own conscience makes no question,
What care I for Report: That woman's miserable
That's good or bad for their tongues sake: Come let's retire.
And get my veil wench: By my troth your sorrow,
And the consideration of mens humorous maddings,
Have put me into a serious contemplation.
Enter Mirabell and Bellure.
Or.
Come 'faith, let's sit and think.
Ros.
That's all my business.
Mir.
Why standst thou peeping here? thou great slug, forward.
Bel.
She is there, peace.
Mir.
Why standst thou here then,
Sneaking, and peaking, as thou would'st steal linnen?
Hast thou not place and time?
Bel.
I had a rare speech
Studied, and almost ready, and your violence
Has beat it out of my brains.
Mir.
Hang your rare speeches,
Go me on like a man.
Bel.
Let me set my Beard up.
How has Pinac performed?
Mir.
He has won already:
He stands not thrumming of caps thus.
Bel.
Lord, what should I ail?
What a cold I have over my stomack; would I had some Hum.
Certain I have a great mind to be at her:
22
Mir.
On fool.
Bel.
Good words, I beseech ye;
For I will not be abused by both.
Mir.
Adieu, then,
I will not trouble you, I see you are valiant,
And work your own way.
Bel.
Hist, hist, I will be rul'd
I will y'faith, I will go presently:
Will ye forsake me now and leave me i'th' suds:
You know I am false-hearted this way; I beseech ye,
Good sweet Mirabell; I'll cut your throat if ye leave me,
Indeed I will sweet heart.
Mir.
I will be ready,
Still at thine elbow; take a mans heart to thee,
And speak thy mind: the plainer still the better.
She is a woman of that free behaviour,
Indeed that common curtesie, she cannot deny thee;
Go bravely on.
Bel.
Madam—keep close about me,
Still at my back. Madam, sweet Madam.
Ros.
Ha;
What noise is that, what saucy sound to trouble me?
Mir.
What sayd she?
Bel.
I am saucy.
Mir.
'Tis the better.
Bel.
She comes; must I be saucie still?
Mir.
More saucie.
Ros.
Still troubled with these vanities? heaven bless us;
What are we born to? would ye speak with any of my people?
Go in, Sir, I am busie.
Bel.
This is not she sure:
Is this two children at a Birth? I'll be hang'd then:
Mine was a merry Gentlewoman, talkt daintily,
Talkt of those matters that befitted women;
This is a parcell-pray'r-book; I'm serv'd sweetly;
And now I am to look too; I was prepar'd for th' other way.
Ros.
Do you know that man?
Or.
Sure I have seen him, Lady.
Ros.
Me-thinks 'tis pitty such a lusty fellow
Should wander up and down and want employment.
Bel.
She takes me for a Rogue: you may do well Madam,
To stay this wanderer, and set him a work, forsooth,
He can do something that may please your Ladiship.
I have heard of women that desire good breedings,
Two at a birth, or so.
Ros.
The fellow's impudent.
Or.
Sure he is crazed.
Ros.
I have heard of men too that have had good manners;
Sure this is want of grace; indeed 'tis great pitty
The young man has been bred so ill; but this lewd Age
Is full of such examples.
23
I am founder'd,
And some shall rue the setting of me on.
Mir.
Ha? so bookish, Lady, is it possible?
Turn'd holy at the heart too? I'll be hang'd then:
Why this is such a feat, such an activitie,
Such fast and loose: a veyl too for your knavery?
O dio, dio!
Ros.
What do you take me for, Sir?
Mir.
An hypocrite, a wanton, a dissembler,
How e're ye seem, and thus ye are to be handled.
Mark me Bellure, and this you love, I know it.
Ros.
Stand off, bold Sir.
Mir.
You wear good clothes to this end,
Jewels, love Feasts, and Masques.
Ros.
Ye are monstrous saucie.
Mir.
All this to draw on fools? and thus, thus Lady,
Ye are to be lull'd.
Bel.
Let her alone, I'll swinge ye else,
I will y'faith; for though I cannot skill o'this matter
My self, I will not see another do it before me,
And do it worse.
Ros.
Away, ye are a vain thing;
You have travail'd far Sir, to return again
A windy and poor Bladder: you talk of women,
That are not worth the favour of a common one;
The grace of her grew in an Hospitall:
Against a thousand such blown fooleries
I am able to maintain good womens honours,
Their freedoms, and their fames, and I will do it.
Mir.
She has almost struck me dumb too.
Ros.
And declame
Against your base malicious tongues; your noyses;
For they are nothing else: You teach behaviours?
Or touch us for our freedoms? teach your selves manners,
Truth and sobriety, and live so clearly
That our lives may shine in ye; and then task us:
It seems ye are hot, the suburbs will supply ye,
Good women scorn such Gamesters; so I'll leave ye.
I am sorry to see this; 'faith Sir live fairly.
Exit.
Mir.
This woman, if she hold on, may be vertuous,
'Tis almost possible: we'll have a new day.
Bel.
Ye brought me on, ye forced me to this foolery;
I am sham'd, I am scorn'd, I am flurted; yes, I am so:
Though I cannot talk to a woman like your worship,
And use my phrases, and my learned figures,
Yet I can fight with any man.
Mir.
Fie.
Bel.
I can, Sir,
And I will fight.
Mir.
With whom?
Bel.
With you, with any man;
For all men now will laugh at me.
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Pre'thee be moderate.
Bel.
And I'll beat all men. Come.
Mir.
I love thee dearly.
Bel.
I beat all that love, Love has undone me;
Never tell me, I will not be a History.
Mir.
Thou art not.
Bel.
'Sfoot I will not; give me room,
And let me see the proudest of ye jeer me,
And I'll begin with you first.
Mir.
'Pre'thee Bellure;
If I do not satisfie thee—
Bel.
Well, look ye do:
But now I think on't better, 'tis impossible;
I must beat some body, I am maul'd my self,
And I ought in Justice—
Mir.
No, no, no, ye are couzen'd;
But walk, and let me talk to thee.
Bel.
Talk wisely,
And see that no man laugh upon no occasion;
For I shall think then 'tis at me.
Mir.
I warrant thee.
Bel.
Nor no more talk of this.
Mir.
Do'st think I am maddish?
Bel.
I must needs fight yet; for I find it concerns me,
A pox on't, I must fight.
Mir.
Y'faith thou shalt not.
Exeunt.
| The Wild-Goose Chase | |