The English Moor, or The Mock-Marriage :: :: University of Virginia Library

Scene 3.

Testy. Quicksands. Millicent.
Tes.
Go to I say, go to; as y're my Neece,
And hope t'inherit any thing that's mine:
Shake off this Maiden peevishness. Do you whimper
Upon your wedding day? Or, do you think
You are not married yet? Did you not say
I Millicent take Mandevill? A ha!
Was it not so? Did not I give you too?
I that have bred you from the cradle up
To a fit growth to match with his fair years;
And far more fair estate.

Mil.
I, there's the Match—

Tes.
Love him I charge you.

Mil.
Ile endeavour't Sir.

Tes.
You will endeavour't! Is't no further yet?
Stand from her, Nephew! I'le so swinge her. Ha!

Quick.
Let me intreat your patience. She's my wife Sir.

Tes.
Dandle her in her humour, do; and spoyle her.

Quick.
'Tis but her modesty.

Tes.
Her sullen doggedness,
I'le baste it out of her. You do not know her
As I do, Nephew.

Quick.
I shall, Sir, before morning
Better I doubt not. Come we shall agree.

Tes.
You will endeavour't! Come I'le see it done.

Marry a man first, and then endeavour
To love him will you? Ha! Is it but so?
I'le see you love him presently. So to bed.

Mil.
What before Supper?

Tes.
A posset and to bed,
I'le see it done. And cause you are so nice
(To bed I say) there I will see more done
Then I will speak. Tell me of your endeavour!

Quick.
Be not so rough and stiffe with her, good Uncle,
I know my supple tender dealing will
Get more upon her love then all your chidings.

Tes.
Such tender dealers spoyle young Brides; and get
Nothing of stubborness. Down with her I say
Now in her wedding sheets: She will be naught else.

Mil.
Construe more charitably, I beseech you,
My Virgin blushes.

Tes.
'Tis your sullenness;
Would you have brided it so lumpishly
With your spruce younker, that fine silken beggar,
Whose Land lies in your Husbands counting house,
Or the most part.

Mil.
O my Theophilus.

Quick.
Indeed the better half; not without hope
To have the rest as he may want my money.

Tes.
Would you have whin'd and pul'd, had you had him,
To bedward think you? yet to speak the truth,
And that wherein she has vext me a thousand times,
I never saw her laugh, nor heard her sing
In all my life: yet she could both, I have heard,
In company she lik'd.

Mil.
It has been 'mong Maidens then.
But honour'd Sir (I know what I will do)
To let you see and hear, since you desire
To have me shew a cheerfulness unto
My reverend Husband. Look you Sir, I'le kiss him,
Clap him, and stroke him: Ha, my Joe, ha, ha, ha, &c.

Tes.
Hey day.

Quick.
She'l make me blush anon I think.

Mil.
I'le sing him songs too.

Tes.
Whoop, how's this?

Mil.
That I will chick, old songs and over old ones,
Old as thy reverend self, my Chick a bird.

Quic.
She cals me chick and bird: The common names
With wives that Cuckold their old cravend husbands.

Mil.
(She sings)
She made him a bed of the thistle down soft,
Shee laid her self under to bear him a loft,
And ever she sung sweet turn thee to me,
Wee'l make the new bed cry Jiggy Joggy.

Tes.
What impudence is this.

Quic.
Shee's gon as far
Beyond it now as it was to't.

Mil.
Now may you answer.
(She sings)

Go to bed sweet heart I'le come to thee,
Make thy bed fine and soft I'le lig with thee. Ha, ha, ha.

Quic.
Is this your bashful Neece.

Tes.
What canst thou mean by this? dos this become thee?

Mil.
Pray do not beat me o'my wedding might but tell me
How this and half a dozen chopping Children may
Become an old mans wife some five years hence.

Quic.
O intollerable!

Tes.
Is't possible thou canst do thus?

Mil.
Let women judge. Tis very possible
That a young lusty wife may have six Children
By one at once in five years, Sir, and by
One Father too. Ile make him young enough
To Father mine.

Quic.
Shee'l make a youth of me.

Mil.
(She sings.)
There was a Lady lov'd a swine. Honey, quoth she,
And wilt thou be true love mine. Hoogh, quoth he.

Tes.
Do you hear gentlewoman; are you i'your wits?

Mil.
Yes, and my own house I hope I pray be civil,
Shall we to bed, Sir, supperless? you need
No stirring meats, it seems. I'm glad on't.
Come, biddy, come away, will you see Uncle
How I will love him i'oed? come away.

Quic.
My edge is taken off: this impudence
Of hers, has outfac'd my concupisence.
Dasht all quite out o' Countenance! what a beast
Was I to marry? Rather, what a beast
Am I to be? A sowgelders horn blown.
How now! O horrible.

Tes.
What hidious noise is this.

Ent. Buzzard.
Buz.
I cannot help it.
While I went forth for the half pint of Sack
To make your prodigal posset; and the maid
(Watching the Milk, for running ore) forgot
To shut the door, they all rush'd in.

Quic.
What they, what all?

Buz.
Vizarded people, Sir, and odly shap'd.
You'l see anon. Their tuning o'their pipes,
And swear they'll gi'ye a willy nilly dance
Before you go to bed, tho' you stole your Marriage.

Quic.
Outragious Roysters.

Tes.
Call and raise the street.

Mil.
That were to let in violence indeed.
These are some merry harmeless friends I warrant.
I knew I could not be so ill belov'd
Among the batchelers, but some would find
Way to congratulate our honoured Marriage.

Quic.
What, with horn musick?

Tes.
A new kind of flourish.

Quic.
Tis a flat conspiracy.
This is your bashful modest whimpring Neece.

Tes.
Then let 'em in. If they wrong us to night,
The Law to morrow shall afford us right.

Pray let's resolve to seet. Here comes their Prologue.

florish,
Ent. Mercury.
Mer.

At a late Parliment held by the Gods,
Cupid and Hymen fell at bitter ods
Upon an argument; wherein each did cry
T'advance his own 'bove tothers deity,
Out of this question, which might happier prove
Love without Marriage, or Marriage without love.
By the effects the tryal must be made:
So each from others Office drew his aid;
Cupid no more of Hymens matches fram'd;
Nor Hymen married those that love inflam'd.

Now mark, the sad effects this strife begot,
Cupid his fiery darts and arrows shot.
As thick as ere he did; and equal hearts
He wounds with equal love. But Hymen parts
Their forward hands (alas!) and joyneth none
But those which his new match-Maker brings on,
(Old greedy Avarice) who by his spells,
In breasts of Parents and of guardians dwells,
That force their tendelings to loathed beds;
Which uncouth Policie to sorrow leads
Thousands a thousand wayes, of which the least
Is this with which we celebrate your feast.

Tes.
A special drove of horn beasts.

Enter four Masquers with horns on their heads: a Stag, a Ram, and Goar, a an Ox followed by four persons, a Courtier, a Captain, a Schollar and a Butcher.
Mer.

These few are thought enough to shew how more
Would appear horrible, the town hath store.

The first's a Lawyer, who by strife prevail'd
To wed a wife, that was by love intail'd
Unto that Courtier, who had the hap
Soon after to adorn him with that cap.

The next a country cormorant, whose great wealth,

By a bad fathers will, obtain'd by stealth
That valiant Souldiers Mistress: or which matter
The Enginier his sconse with Rams did batter.

This an old Goatish Usurer, that must
Needs buy a wretches daughter to his lust;
Doated, and married her without a groat,
That Herald gave this crest unto his coat.

And that's the Citizen, so broadly pated,
Which this mad Butcher, cuckold-antidated.
Now by this dance let husband that doth wed
Bride from her proper love to loathed bed
Observe his fortune. Musick strike aloud
The cuckolds joy, with merry pipe & crowd.

They dance to musick of Cornet; & Violins.
The Daunce.
Exit. Masquers.
Tes.
How now! all vanisht! The devil take the hidmost.

Qui.
The foremost I say; and lay him a block
For all the rest to break their necks upon.

Tes.
Who are they? Can you guesse.

Mil.
Truly, not I Sir.
Some of my husbands friends perhaps, that came
To warn him of his fortune.

Qui.
Well consider'd.

Mil.
Lock the doors after 'em, and let us to bed;
And lock our selves up, chick, safe from all danger.

Qui.
We will to bed chick, since you'l have it so.
This key shall be your guard: And here's another
Shall secure me. My house has store of beds in't.
I bring you not to an unfurnisht dwelling.

Mil.
Be not afraid to lie with me, good man,
Ile so restore thee 'gain: with Cawdels and Cock-broths,
So cuckle the up to morrow, thou shalt see—

Quic.
O immodestie.

Mil.
Thou hast good store of gold, and shalt not want it
In Cullises: in every broth Ile boil

An angel at the least.

Qui.
Ile hang first.

Tes.
I am quite out of wits; and yet Ile counsel
Thee, Nephew. Heark thee.

They whisper
Buz.
Tis like to be mad counsel.

Mil.
But will you not lie with me then?

Tes.
No marry shall he not.
Nephew, You shall not, till shee bride it modestly,
Tis now too late, but Ile so rattle her up to morrow.

Buz.
Tis too late now, & yet he'l do't to morrow! good!

Tes.
Will you to your lodging?

Mil.
Where be my bride-maids?

Tes.
They wait you in your chamber.

Buz.

The devil o'maid's i'this but my fellow Madg the
Kitching maid, and Malkin the Cat, or batchelor but my
self, and an old Fox, that my master has kept a prentiship
to palliate his palsie.

Mil.
Where be the maids, I say; and Batchelors
To disappoint my husband.

Qui.
Mark you that?

Mil.
I mean, to take your points. But you have none.
O thrifty age! My Bridegroom is so wise,
Instead of points, to hazzard hooks and eyes.

Buz.
Shee means the eyes in's head, Ile hang else.
My Master is like to make a blind match here.

Tes.
Take up the lights, sirrah.

Qui.
I hope she talks so idly, but for want
Of sleep; and sleep she shall for me to night.

Tes.
And well said Nephew. Will you to your chamber,
Mistress?—

Mil.
Hey ho, to bed, to bed, to bed.
No Bride so glad—to keep her Maiden-head.

Exeunt omnes.