 | The Wild-Goose Chase |  |
Scæn. 1.
Enter Leugier, Lelia, Servants.Leug.
Faint not; but do as I direct ye, trust me;
Beleeve me too, for what I have told ye, (Lady)
As true as you are Lelia, is Authentick;
I know it; I have found it; 'tis a poor courage
Flies off for one repulse; these Travellers
Shall finde before we have done, a home-spun wit,
A plain French understanding may cope with 'em;
They have had the better yet, thank your sweet Squire, here;
And let 'em brag: You would be reveng'd?
Lel.
Yes surely.
Lug.
And married too?
Lel.
I think so.
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Then be Counsel'd;
You know how to proceed: I have other Irons
Heating as well as yours: and I will strike
Three blowes with one Stone home, be rul'd, and hapie;
And so I leave yee. Now is the time.
Lel.
I am ready.
If he doe come to do me.
Ser.
Will ye stand here,
And let the people think, ye are God knows what, Mistris;
Let Boyes, and Prentizes presume upon ye.
Lel.
Pre'thee hold thy peace.
Ser.
Stand at his dore, that hates ye?
Lel.
Pre'thee leave prating.
Ser.
'Pray ye goe to th' Tavern. Ile give ye a Pint of wine there;
If any of the Mad-cap Gentlemen should come by
That take up women upon speciall warrant,
You were in a wise case now.
Enter, Mirabell, Pinac, Mariana, Priest, Attendants.
Lel.
Give me the Garland,
And wait you here.
Mir.
She is here to seeke thee, Sirrah.
I told thee what would follow; she is mad, for thee;
Shew, and advance. So early stirring Lady,
It shewes a busie mind, a fancie troubled:
A willowgh Garland too. Is't possible,
'Tis pitty so much Beautie should lie mustie,
But 'tis not to be help'd now.
Lel.
The more's my Miserie
Good fortune to ye (Ladie) you deserve it:
To me: too late Repentance; I have sought it:
I doe not envy, though I greive a little,
You are Mistris of that happines, those Joyes
That might have bin, had I bin wise: but fortune.
Pi.
She understands ye not, 'pray ye doe not trouble her;
And do not crosse me like a Hare thus, 'tis as ominous.
Lel.
I come not to upbraid, your Levitie
Though ye made shew of Love, and though I lik'd ye
To claime an Interest; we are yet both Strangers,
But what we might have bin, had you persever'd, Sir,
To be an eye-sore to your loving Lady;
This garland shewes, I give my self forsaken;
(Yet She must pardon me, 'tis most unwillingly:)
And all the power and interest I had in ye?
As I perswade my self, somewhat ye Lov'd me;
Thus patiently I render up, I offer
To her that must enjoy ye; and so blesse ye;
Onely, I heartily desire this Courtesie,
And would not be denide: to wait upon ye
This day, to see ye tide, then no more trouble ye.
Pi.
It need not, Ladie.
Lel.
Good, Sir, grant me so much.
Pi.
'Tis privat, and we make no Invitation.
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My presence, sir, shall not proclaim it publick.
Pi.
May be 'tis not in Town.
Lel.
I have a Coach, sir.
And a most ready will to do you service.
Mir.
Strike now or never; make it sure: I tell thee,
She will hang her self; if she have thee not.
Pi.
'Pray ye, sir,
Entertain my noble mistris: onely a word or two
With this importunate woman, and I'll relieve ye.
Now ye see what your flings are, and your fancies,
Your States, and your wild stubbornes, now ye finde
What 'tis to gird and kick at mens fair services,
To raise your pride to such a pitch, and glory
That goodness shews like Gnats, scorn'd under ye,
'Tis ugly, naught, a self-will in a woman,
Chain'd to an over-weening thought, is Pestilent,
Murthers fair Fortune first; Then fair opinion?
There stands a Patern, a true patient Patern,
Humble, and sweet.
Lel.
I can but grieve my ignorance.
Repentance some say too, is the best Sacrifice;
For sure, Sir, if my chance had been so happy,
(As I confess I was mine own destroyer)
As to have arrived at you; I will not prophesie,
But certain, as I think, I should have pleas'd ye;
Have made ye as much wonder at my curtesie,
My love, and duty, as I have dishearten'd ye,
Some hours we have of youth, and some of folly;
And being free-born Maides, we take a liberty,
And to maintain that, sometimes we strain highly.
Pi.
Now ye talk reason.
Lel.
But being yoak'd, and govern'd,
Married, and those light vanities purg'd from us;
How fair: we grow, how gentle, and how tender
We twine about those loves that shoot-up with us?
A sullen woman fear, that talks not to ye;
She has a sad and darkn'd soul, loves dully:
A merry and a free wench, give her liberty;
Beleeve her in the lightest form she appears to ye;
Beleeve her excellent, though she despise ye;
Let but these fits and flashes pass, she will she will shew to ye;
As Jewels rub'd from dust, or Gold new burnish'd:
Such had I been, had you beleev'd.
Pi.
Is't possible.
Lel.
And to your happiness, I dare assure ye
If True love be accounted so; your pleasure,
Your will, and your command had tyed my Motions:
But that hopes gone; I know you are young, and giddy,
And till you have a Wife can govern with ye,
You saile upon this world-Sea, light and empty;
Your Bark in danger daily; 'tis not the name neither
Of Wife can steer ye; but the noble nature,
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She makes the Pilat, and preserves the Husband,
That knowes, and reckons every Ribb, he is built on;
But this I tell ye, to my shame.
Pi.
I admire ye,
And now am sorry, that I ayme beyond ye.
Mir.
So, so, so: faire and softly. She is thine own (Boy)
She comes now, without Lure.
Pi.
But that it must needes
Be reckon'd to me as a wantonnesse,
Or worsse, a Madnesse, to forsake a Blessing,
A Blessing of that hope.
Lel.
I dare not urge ye;
And yet deare, Sir.
Pi.
'Tis most certain, I had rather,
If 'twere in mine owne Choice, for you are my Country-woman,
A Neighbour here borne by me, She a Stranger;
And who knowes how her Friends?
Lel.
Doe as you please, Sir,
If ye be fast: not all the world: I love ye,
'Tis most true: and cleer, I would perswade ye;
And I shall love ye still.
Pi.
Goe, get before me:
So much ye have won upon me: doe it presently:
Here's a Preist ready: Ile have you.
Lel.
not now, Sir,
No, you shall pardon me: advance your Lady,
I dare not hinder your most high preferment,
'Tis honor enough for me, I have unmask'd ye.
Pi.
How's that.
Lel.
I have caught ye, Sir; alas, I am no States woman,
Nor no great Traveller, yet I have found ye,
I have found your Lady too: your beauteous Lady;
I have found her Birth, and Breeding too: her disciplin:
Who brought her over, and who kept your Lady:
And when he laid her by, what vertuous Nunnery
Received her in: I have found all these: are ye blanck now,
Methinks such travel'd wisdomes should not foole thus:
Such excellent Indiscretions.
Mir.
How could she know this?
Lel.
'Tis true she is English borne: but most part French now,
And so I hope you will find her, to your comfort,
Alas, I am ignorant of what, She cost ye:
The price of these hired Clothes I doe not know Gentlemen;
Those Jewells are the Broakers, how ye stand bound for'em.
Pi.
Will you make this good?
Lel.
Yes, yes, and to her face, Sir,
That she is an English whore, a kind of fling dust
One of your London Light o'Loves: a right one,
Came over in thin Pumps; and half a Petcicote,
One faith, and one Smock, with a broken Haberdasher,
I know all this, without a Conjurer:
Her name is Jumping—Jone, an ancient Sin-Weaver;
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And broke her leg above the knee: departed
And set up shop her self. Stood the fierce Conflicts
Of many a furious Tearme; there lost her Colours,
And last shipt over hither.
Mir.
We are betray'd.
Lel.
Doe you come to fright me with this Misterie?
To stirre me with a stink none can endure, Sir?
I pray ye proceed, the Wedding will becom ye,
Who gives the Lady? you? an excellent Father:
A carefull man, and one that knows a Beautie,
'Send ye faire shipping, Sir, and so Ile leave ye;
Be wise and manly, then I may chance to love ye.
—Exit.
Mir.
As I live I am asham'd, this wench has reach'd me,
Monstrous asham'd, but there's no remedie,
This skew'd-eyde Carren.
Pi.
This I suspected ever,
Come, Come, uncase, we have no more use of ye;
Your Clothes, must back againe.
Maria.
Sir, ye shall pardon me:
'Tis not our English use to be degraded:
If you will visit me and take your venture,
You shall have pleasure for your properties;
And so sweet heart.
Mir.
Let her goe, and the Devill goe with her:
We have never better luck with these preludiums:
Come, be not daunted: think she is but a woman,
And let her have the devills witt, wee'll reach her.
—Exit.
| The Wild-Goose Chase | |