 | The Humorous Lieutenant |  |
Scæna prima.
Enter Antigonus, and Menippus.Ant.
No aptnesse in her?
Men.
Not an immodest motion,
And yet when she is as free, and when she is courted,
Makes as wild witty answers.
Ant.
This more fires me,
I must not have her thus.
Men.
We cannot alter her.
Ant.
Have ye put the youths upon her?
Men.
All that know any thing,
And have been studied how to catch a beauty,
But like so many whelps about an Elephant—
The Prince is coming home sir.
Ant.
I heare that too,
But that's no matter; am I alter'd well;
Men.
Not to be knowne I thinke sir.
Ant.
I must see her.
Ent. 2 Gent. or Lords.
1 Gent.
I offered all I had, all I could thinke of,
I tri'd her through all the points o'th' compasse, I thinke.
2 Gent.
She studies to undo the Court, to plant here
The enemy to our age, chastitie;
She is the first, that ere bauked a close Arbour,
And the sweet contents within: She hates curl'd heads too,
And setting up of beards she sweares, is Idolatrie.
1 Gent.
I never knew so faire a face so froze;
Yet she would make one thinke—
2 Gent.
True by her carriage,
For she's as wanton as a kid toth' out side,
As full of mocks and taunts: I kiss'd her hand too,
Walkt with her halfe an houre.
1 Gent.
She heard me sing,
And sung her selfe too; she sings admirably;
But still, when any hope was, as 'tis her trick
To minister enough of those, then presently
With some new slam or other, nothing to th'matter,
And such a frowne, as would sinke all before her,
She takes her chamber; come we shal not be the last fools.
2 Gent.
Not by a hundred I hope; 'tis a strange wench.
Ant.
This screwes me up still higher.
Enter Celia, and Ladies behind her
Men.
Here she comes sir.
Ant.
Then be you gone: and take the women with ye,
And lay those Jewels in her way.
Cel.
If I stay longer
I shall number as many lovers as Lais did;
How they flocke after me? upon my conscience,
I have had a dozen horses given me this morning,
I'le ev'n set up a troop, and turne she-souldier.
A good discreet wench now, that were not hidebound
Might raise a fine estate here, and suddenly:
For these warme things will give their soules—I can go no where
Without a world of offerings to my excellence:
I am a Queene, a Goddesse, I know not what—
And no constellation in all heaven, but I outshine it;
And they have found out now I have no eyes
Of mortall lights, but certaine influences,
Strange vertuous lightnings, humane nature starts at,
And I can kill my twenty in a morning,
With as much ease now—
Ha? what are these? new projects?
Where are my honourable Ladies? are you out too?
Nay then I must buy the stocke, send me good carding:
I hope the Princes hand, be not in this sport;
I have not seen him yet, cannot heare from him,
And that, that, troubles me: all these were recreations
Had I but his sweet companie to laugh with me:
What fellowes that? another apparition?
This is the lovingst age: I should know that face,
Sure I have seen't before, not long since neither.
Ant.
She sees me now: O heaven, a most rare creature!
Cel.
Yes, 'tis the same: I will take no notice of ye,
But if I do not fit ye, let me frie for't;
Is all this Cackling for your eg? they are faire ones,
Excellent rich no doubt to; and may stumble
A good staid mind, but I can go thus by 'em;
My honest friend; do you set off these Jewels;
Ant.
Set 'em off, Lady?
Cel.
I meane, sell 'em here sir?
Ant.
She's very quicke; for sale they are not meant sure.
Cel.
For sanctitie I thinke much lesse: good even Sir.
Ant.
Nay, noble Lady stay: 'tis you must weare 'em:
Never looke strange, they are worthy your best beauty.
Cel.
Did ye speake to me?
Ant.
To you or to none living:
To you they are sent; to you they are sacrificed.
Cel.
I'le never looke a horse i'th' mouth that's given:
I thanke ye sir: I'le send one to reward ye.
Ant.
Do you never aske who sent 'em?
Cel.
Never I:
Nor never care, if it be an honest end,
That end's the full reward, and thankes but slubbers it;
If it be ill, I will not urge the acquaintance.
Ant.
This has a soule indeed: pray let me tell ye.
Cel.
I care not if ye do, so you do it hansomly,
And not stand picking of your words,
Ant.
The King sent 'em.
Cel.
Away, away, thou art some foolish fellow,
And now I think thou hast stole 'em too; the king sent 'em?
Alas good man, wouldst thou make me beleeve
He has nothing to do with things of these worths,
But wantonly to fling 'em? he's an old man,
A good old man, they say too: I dare sweare
Full many a yeare ago, he left these gambols:
Here, take your trinkets.
Ant.
Sure I do not lye Lady.
Cel.
I know thou lyest extreamely, damnably.
Thou hast a lying face.
Ant.
I was never thus ratled.
Cel,
But say I should beleeve: why are these sent me?
And why art thou the Messenger? who art thou?
Ant.
Lady, looke on 'em wisely, and then consider
Who can send such as these, but a King only?
And, to what beautie can they be oblations,
But only yours? For me that am the carrier,
'Tis only fit you know I am his servant,
And have fulfil'd his will.
Cel.
You are short and pitthy;
What must my beauty do for these?
Ant.
Sweet Lady,
You cannot be so hard of understanding,
When a Kings favour shines upon ye gloriously,
And speakes his love in these,—
Cel.
O then love's the matter;
Sir-reverence love: now I begin to feele ye:
And I should be the Kings whore, a brave title.
And go as glorious as the Sun, ô brave still:
137
Hurried from place to place to meet his pleasures.
Ant.
A devillish subtill wench, but a rare spirit.
Cel.
And when the good old spunge had suckt my youth dry,
And left some of his royall aches in my bones:
When time shall tell me I have plough'd my life up,
And cast long furrowes in my face to sinke me.
Ant.
You must not thinke so Lady.
Cel.
Then can these sir,
These precious things, the price of youth and beauty;
This shop here of sin-offerings set me off againe?
Can it restore me chaste, young innocent?
Purge me to what I was? adde to my memorie
An honest and a noble fame? The Kings device;
The sin's as universall as the Sun is,
And lights an everlasting torch to shame me.
Ant.
Doe you hold so sleight account of a great Kings favour,
That all knees bow to purchase?
Cel.
Prethee peace:
If thou knewst how ill-favouredly thy tale becomes thee,
And what ill root it takes—
Ant.
You will be wiser.
Cel.
Could the King find no shape to shift his pander into,
But reverend age? and one so like himself too?
Ant.
She has found me out.
Cel.
Cozen the world with gravitie?
Prethee resolve me one thing, do's the King love thee?
Ant.
I thinke he doe's.
Cel.
It seemes so by thy office:
He loves thy use, and when thats ended, hates thee:
Thou seemest to me a souldier.
Ant.
Yes I am one.
Cel.
And hast fought for thy Country?
Ant.
Many a time.
Cel.
May be, commanded too?
Ant.
I have done, Lady.
Cel.
O wretched man, below the state of pitie!
Canst thou forget, thou wert begot in honour?
A free companion for a King? a souldier?
Whose noblenesse dare feele no want, but enemies?
Canst thou forget this, and decline so wretchedly,
To eat the bread of bawdrie, of base bawdrie?
Feed on the scum of sin? fling thy sword from thee?
Dishonour to the noble name that nursed thee?
Goe, beg diseases: let them be thy Armors,
Thy fights, the flames of lust, and their foule issues.
Ant.
Why then I am a King, and mine owne speaker.
Cel.
And I as free as you, mine owne disposer;
There take your jewels; let them give them lustres
That have darke lives and soules; weare 'em your selfe sir,
You'l seeme a Devill else.
Ant.
I command ye stay.
Cel.
Be just, I am commanded.
Ant.
I will not wrong ye.
Cel.
Then thus low fals my duty.
Ant.
Can ye love me?
Say I, and all I have.
Cel.
I cannot love ye;
Without the breach of faith I cannot heare ye;
Ye hang upon my love, like frosts on Lillies:
I can dye, but I cannot love: you are answer'd.
Exit.
Ant.
I must find apter meanes, I love her truly.
Exit.
| The Humorous Lieutenant | |