University of Virginia Library

Act. 2.

Scen. 1.

Stipes making of himselfe ready with his Sheepe-hooke in his hand. Mistris Vrsely, Merda.
Sti.
Heigh hoe—
'Tis a fine morning this as I haue seene,
And a most early Spring—but daughter Merda,
Why Merda I say, why daughter Merda, what,
Haue not the Fleas yet made a breakefast of you?
You'le rise? or doe you meane that Mistris Vrsely
Shall take you in your bed? shee'l not be long
Ere she be here—Oh me! shee's here already.
Mr s. Vrsely enters.
Why Merda, Merda I say, goe to,
I, I by'r Lady.

Vrs.
Fa, la, la, la, I haue found six Checkstones in my
She sings.
Father's yard, all in my Father's yard, and now I
Will goe see if Merda will play with me—
Oh Stipes, where is your daughter Merda?

Sti.
Oh sweet Mistris Vrsely, oh that I were a young
Scholler now for your sake; ha, this is shee that
The beggers fight for: come on i'faith young Mistris,
Which of all the blackcoates doe you loue best?

Vrs.
Blackcoates? I care not this for any of them,
I ne're will loue any but Anteros;
But pray you Stipes call your daughter Merda,
Is shee not vp yet?

Sti.
Merda, will you come? or doe you long vntill
I fetch you out—At length forsooth: are
Enter Merda.
You not asham'd of this you great Maukin you?

Vrs.
Oh Merda, will you play at Checkstones with me?

Sti.
Where is your answer, and your curt'sie Mayden?
If it please you forsooth, say.

Mer.
If it please you forsooth say.

Sti.
Say? thou filthy harlotry, thou;
Oh here's a Girle brought vp most daintily;
Well was it not for shame I'de take you vp—

He offers.
Mer.
Father, good Father, forgiue me but this once, I'le neuer
Doe so any more.

Vrs.
Stipes, you shall forgiue her,
I'le make my Father take his house from you,
And the North close, vnlesse—

Sti.
Thanke your young Mistris; young Mistris I
Doe thanke you say.

Mer.
Young Mistris I doe thanke you say.

Sti.
Againe? but oh the diggers!
What doe I see? My Sheepe haue quite disgrest
Theyr bounds, and leap't into the seuerall.
Whu, whu, why Scab, the last, the last, there scab
'Tis the best Curre
That euer mumbled crust.
How daintily he catcht that Sherehogge! there,
So, so, au, au: why so; haup, haup, you roague
But I will follow him.

Scen. 2.

Mistris Vrsely. Merda.
Urs.
Come Merda, will you play now?

Mer.
No, I wo'nt vnlesse you'le giue me those bracelets.

Vrs.
Take them.

Mer.
And your gloues to.

Vrs.
Heere, fa, la, la.

Mer.
Stay while I put them on though.

Urs.
What shall we play for?

Mer.
Two pinnes a game.

Vrs.
Stake then: heigh ho Anteros!

Mer.
How many shall we make vp?

Vrs.
One and thirty.

Mer.
Will you haue Winter, or Summer?

Vrs.
—Summer—no Winter.
Hi, Winter, Winter, Winter:

Mer.
But you said Summer first, I wo'nt play.

Vrs.
Au, but I said Winter afterward though.

Mer.
Begin then.

Urs.
One—

Mer.
So, so, you toucht the other stone, now I must play.

Vrs.
You ly, I did not touch it.

Mer.
You ly, you did touch it, and you shal haue no pins here.

Urs.
Sh'ant I so? but I will though; doe you scratch hussie?

Mer.
I that I will scratch, and bite too.

Urs.
Giue me my gloues, and bracelets againe.

Mer.
You may goe looke 'vm, I wo'nt, as long as you gaue
Them me. Giue a thing, and take a thing
That's the Deuills gold-ring.

Urs.
Well if I don't tell my Father of this, you Pusse you.

Mer.
You Munkey.

Urs.
You Bastard.

Mer.
Doe you abuse one's friends you Iade you?

Vrs.
And you call me Iade you are a Whore.

Mer.
Doe you call Whore?

Urs.
I that I will call Whore, well, well, the next time
That you eate any Cheesecakes at our house
You shall haue better luck shall you.

Mer.
Your Cheesecakes? we haue as good of our owne.

Vrs.
Au, hau, you shall nere make no durt pyes
With me in our Barne hussie.

Mer.
Who cares? then you shall gather no more Violets, nor
Primeroses in our Close.

Urs.
Your Close? I'le gather there in spight of your teeth.
It is my Fathers Close, so it is, so it is.
Your Father does but hire it—Oh here he comes
Here he comes, here comes my Father,
Now you shall see.

Mer.
Au but I'le runne home.

Sce. 3.

Iustice Hooke, the six Suiters, Mistris Vrsely, Liuely.
Hook.
Come on, I am not of that ranke of Patrons
Which set to sale the livings of the Church.
(Oh are you here my daughter? wipe your nose;)
I take no bonds in secret, sell no horse
For his price centuple, nor doe I send
The eager suiters up unto my Lady,
That she might judge which is the better gifted.
(Sir if your father will be bound to pay
Hee takes Stuc. aside.
The first yeeres revenues, you are the man shall speed,
A reservation of mine owne tithes too
Must be concluded on before you haue it)
But as a true lover of vertue, doe
Chuse rather to conferre a double good
Then the least dammage on the man I deale with.
Behold my young and tender daughter here;
I doe confesse shee's not the rarest piece
That ever nature drew, nor is it fit
That such as you, who either are, or should be
Wedded unto your Bookes, should haue a lowd
And clamorous beautie to disturbe your studies.
You need not feare the thought of her perfections
Will call you from a piece of Greeke to reade
Miracles in her face. Hold up your head,
Enter Liuely.
And tell me now which of this goodly troupe
You haue most mind to, for on him will I
Bestow old Liuely's Parsonage, and thee
In Marriage.

Liue.
Excellent, excellent good, ha, ha, he.

Vrse.
I will haue Anteros, Terpanders sonne.

Hoo.
Let me not heare another syllable,
You peevish girle, you; you haue Anteros?
What doe you weepe? no more: come on your wayes,
And sit you downe here by me, while your Suiters
Explaine themselues and their good parts before you.

Vrs.
Father, huff, huff, I will none of those two men
With the short haire, doe what you can I will not.

Hoo.
Why so my daughter? peace.

Vrs.
Huff, huff,—because I know
As well as can be by their lookes, that they
Cannot containe themselues within an houre,
And you doe know I cannot hold my wa—

Hoo.
Peace thou most arrant foole, before your wooers
Thus to proclaime your imperfections?

Live.
Ha, ha, he: another bout with my conserues for that;
This box shall add three moneths unto my life,
He eats conserues.
And this same slice of Quinces seven. I, I,
Begin to pleade, doe, doe.

Zeal.
My sweetest Mistresse,
This fellow speakes thorow the nose.
I will divide this my Oration
Iust into three and thirtie parts, all which
With your vouchsafed patience at this time
I will runne through.

Hoo.
The candle of the day
Will burne within the socket, ere thou'st done;
I pray thee leaue.

Zeal.
No sir, I will not leaue,
I am not yet arrived at the poynt.

Gan.
And he doth use to tyre all his hearers.

Hoo.
Oh; he hath don't already, don't already

Zeal.
Besides all this—

Hoo.
Now out upon his lungs,
My dinner will bee spoyl'd, the capon burnt,
The beefe as blacke as mummy; this mans breath
Will blast them all.

Live.
Ha, ha, he.

Hoo.
Hast thou ta'ne Orders fellow?

Zea.
If't please you, no.

Hoo.
Did'st e're preach?

Zea.
Onely one Sermon Sir
For approbation to a female Audience.
But I haue heere letters of commendation
From seventeene honest men of good report
Amongst their neighbours.

Hoo.
Spare your paines good sir.

Tem.
As for my selfe, fayre Gentlewoman,
This is hoarse.
I cannot but inveigh against these times
Wherein—

Hoo.
What sayes hee?

Arth.
If it please your Worship,
Ha's lost his voyce with rayling against Bishops,
And the fayre discipline of the Church.

Hoo.
Oh villaine,
Command him silence.

Stuch.
'Tis a courtesie sir
You inflict upon him, tis not a punishment.

Gan.
The holy Matrons now will rob their husbands
To contribute to the afflicted Saint.

Live.
And think they merit in it. But no more;
I will goe gull them all, and presently.—
o—o—o—o—oo—ooo—
The longest day I see will haue his euening,
o—o—o—oo—o—ooo—

Hoo.
But see old Liuely; stand close and obserue.

Liu.
O! now the wisht for minute does approach
Which I so long haue wayted for, and not I
Alone—but let them now enjoy their wishes.
o—o—oo—ooo—
I feele my heart-strings crack, and the whole lumpe
Groanes for a speedy dissolution.

Ho.
How's this? but yesterday he was in's sacke,
Told me he hop'd to liue to eate a Goose
Which graz'd upon my graue: so suddenly?

Liu.
Haue I no friends about me? must I goe
Out of the world in private thus? from home?
Without one friend to take his leaue of me?
Kind Iustice Hooke, O that good man Mr. Hooke.

Hoo.
Peace, not a word: what does he name me for?

Liue.
Would thou wast here, but to participate
Of my last dying breath, I would pronounce thee
Mine heyre in totall.

Hoo.
Beare witnesse Gentlemen—
Good Mr. Liuely, 'lasse how fares it with you?

Liue.
Whoe's that names me?

Hoo.
He whom you ask'd for,
Sacriledge Hooke.

Liue.
Sacriledge Hooke's mine heyre,
he fals down as if he were dead.
And so farewell thou false and flattering world.

Arth.
Alasse hee's dead.

Ho.
Peace, not so lowd for feare you call him back.
Yee all can beare me record I'me his heyre.

All.
Wee can.

Hoo.
Why Robert, Oliver,
Runne to the Church immediately, and cause
The bell bee tould with speed: old Mr. Liuely
Is newly dead—Alas, I can but weepe
To view this spectacle of mortalitie,
And I haue cause to spend some teares for him—ha ha he.

Arth.
I doubt he is not fully dead yet Patron,
Shall I make sure work with him? giue him a knock?

Hoo.
Offer no violence vnto the dead
I charge you, 'tis as bad as sacriledge,
Which I haue alwayes hated.

Liue.
So has the Devill.

Gan.
Sweet Mistris Vrsely.

Zeal.
Fairest Lady.

Temp.
Stay,
No haste good sir.

Arth.
But by your leaue sweet sir.

Hu.
Tis I haue right unto her, shee's a creature,
And you are one o'th wicked.

Stutch.
Out thou rascall that liv'st upon thy rayling;
Good Mistris Vrsely,—
They all lay hold on her.
I haue a share therein.

Mrs Vrse.
VVhy father, father,
O me, me, me, they'le pull mee into pieces;
O my hand, O my arme, my arme, O my backe.

Liue.
Ha, ha, he.

Hoo.
Forbeare this rudenesse gentlemen, my daughter
Shall haue her choyce; these are not wayes to gaine her,
They must bee gentle, soft behaviours
That winne a woman, not such boysterous Rhetoricke.—
But harke, the bell doth toll: I'le presently
Goe seize upon his goods and chattell,

Liu.
Ha?
he rises.
And will you so? but I doe know a tricke
VVorth twenty of that.—I pray good Mr Hooke,
VVhom toll's this bell for?

Hoo.
Oh! for my hopes,
VVhat does hee liue againe?

Liu.
And liues to laugh at thee, and at thy basenesse,
Covetous wretch. Ha, ha, he.
Sir, as I take it I may change my will. Ha, ha, he.

Hoo.
Oh what a knaue is this? a ranke old knaue?
A stinking knaue? a knaue in graine? fie, fie,
That I should thus bee guild? follow me daughter,
And you Gentlemen.

Liue.
Ha, ha, ha, Away you Ravens,
I'le make yee all goe barefoot yee young villaines.

Hee beats them in with his staffe.

Scen. 4.

Liuely
solus.

Sce. 5.

Lively, Stipes, Constantina, Merda.
Sti.
Why quickly Merda, bring me a chaire out quickly.—
O O you villaine.—Why when?—So, so go to, go to,
Tarry you still my daughter,
That you may heare some of your Fathers wisedome.—
Come on you Crack-rope, what is your businesse, 'pray you,
To lurke thus in my Masters grounds? you are
A scout? one that discouers are you not?

Liue.
It is a pretty Lad, and being drest
May easilie passe for Woman. Well Ile marke

Sti.
O you're a stubborne gallowes, you will answere?

Con.
O mee vnfortunate; what shall I say?

Sti.
Heigh!
An ill yeere on you, you great Maukin you,
Merda playes with babes clouts.
Making of Puppets? one of your age and breeding?
You haue an Husband Minion? you a rodde.—
But to returne againe vnto the purpose,
Where dwell you sirrah? will you not answere me?
Come on your wayes, I'le haue you to my Master.—

Con.
Vnhappy wretch! what shall I answere him?
Nay good Sir stay, I'le tell you: oh how I tremble—

Sti.
Then quickly Sirrah.

Con.
Lest this robustious Clowne
Should hale me 'fore my Vncle in this habit.

Sti.
What's that you mutter on? you haue a tricke
To say your prayers backwards? haue you not?

Liue.
This Lad is mine, I'le take him from the Sheepheard.

Con.
Not farre from hence I had both friends and parents.
(Howsoeuer now I want) but cruell Fates
Haue enuied them their liues, and me my friends.

Liue.
It shall be so, I'le make a contract straight
Betwixt Neander and this Boy. Now Stipes,
God saue you.

Sti.
Salve Domine. But why put you your Sickle
Into my Haruest thus? go to, go to,
You're troublesome—well Sirrah.

Liue.
Well Sirrah? Slaue,
Thou vnpollish'd piece of clay, how dar'st thou thus
Vncivilly vse a young Gentleman
Whose friends and kindred I haue knowne to bee
VVorthy of more respect then thou of scorne,
VVhich both come neare to infinite?

Sti.
Very good.
And doe you know his friends and kindred then?

Liue.
VVould thou didst know thy betters halfe so well,
Vntutourd dunghill.—In what state you sit?
He ouerthrowes Stipes, chaire & al.
Stand vp, or else Ile make thee lye for euer.

Sti.
Are you in earnest or in jest?

Liue.
How thinke you?

Stip.
You great Rigs-norton you, doe you stand still
Hee strikes her.
And see your onely Father wrong'd thus? ha?—
VVell, if I doe not fit your cap for this
(If it be made of wooll) when you tithe Lambes,
I'le neuer goe to Church more, if th'whole flocke
Has any worse then other t'shall goe hard
But some of them shall fall vnto your lot.

Con.
Alasse I doubt he knowes me
His eyes so dwell vpon me.

Liue.
Come my boy,
VVhat will you goe with me?

Con.
Thankes to my starres,
He knowes me not.

Stip.
Boy will you dwell with mee?
Thou shalt haue dumpling Boy, enough, and Bacon
Shall be so deepe in fatt, that thou maist wade
Vp to the chinne in lard: Salute your Master.

Mer.
And kisse your masters daughter that's the next
Thing you must practise.

Liue.
You his Master, Hempseed?

Mer.
Truely me thinkes I could e'ne loue this Boy
'Tis such a pretty thing; Father, I pray you
Good Father, let him dwell with vs.

Sti.
No more,
Peace, so he shall.

Liue.
Hands off you lease of Sheepe-skinnes.

Con.
No, I will dwell with this old Gentleman.

Liue.
Well said, sweet youth.

Con.
But on this condition,
That you will use me like a Gentleman
Of qualitie and worth, for I must tell you
With teares, how e're my fortunes are dejected
Now, I doe come of no meane house nor blood.

Liue.
Feare not my boy, thou shalt haue cause to thanke me:
Follow; my maids shall presently vnpage him,
And hang woman on his backe.

Con.
But I doe hope
aside
That some kind God or other will find out
Some meanes for my escape; if not (I'ue sayd it)
This hand shall make a passage for my soule
To leaue this body.

Liue.
Boy, doe you come?

Con.
I come.

Exeunt Liuely and Constan.
Merda playes with babies clouts againe.
Sti.
VVhat is he gone?—hi-day! what againe?
Let me be hang'd, my dogge and my whole Familie,
My Wife and all, I'le put her in, if I
Doe not so 'flict your buttockes Minion;
Ile breake you of this trade of making children
Before your time, if I can find a willow
VVithin a mile of an Oake.

Exit.
Mer.
VVhat shall I do? oh what shall I do? what shall I do?
My father's gone to get a rod, what shall I doe?
Oh, oh, here comes my mother.—

Sce. 6.

Pandora, Placenta, Merda.
Pan.
Placenta, you haue heard my cares, my griefes
And which hath caus'd them all, you know my loue,
Now by those tender yeeres, by that first raye
Of blessed light these infant eyes receiu'd
Vpon those vigilant knees, I doe conjure thee
Forsake me not in these my miseries

Mer.
Mother, Mother, Mother, what shall I doe?

Pla.
What newes with you, you fayrie brat? you changeling?
Daughter to Madam Pusse the kitchin mayd,
Take that and get you in, or Ile—

She beats her.
Mer.
Vm vm, vm.

Pla.
Will you not stirre?
Carry that chaire in with you Milderkin.

Exit Merda.
Pla.
What would you haue me do?

Pan.
Y'aue heard my sicknesse.
Tis the physician must prescribe the medicine
And not the patient.

Pla.
Will it suffice
If ere the Sunne does set you doe embrace
One of your Lovers?

Pan.
By all my vowes it will;
Nor am I much solicitous in the choyce,
So I haue one.

Pla.
But I must haue your helpe,
You must not meerely be a patient
In this same plot; can you dissemble thinke you?

Pan.
I am a woman, and may learne in time.

Pla.
Well then 'tis thus: you see your pampered Louers
(Like two fat Oxen in a Stall) stand blowing
Vpon their meat, are nice forsooth, and squeamish,
Will not fall to, because they're cloyd with dainties,
The onely way for to procure them stomacks,
Is to withdraw their fodder; take your loue
Before their eyes, and giue it to another,
Or seeme to doe at least, 'twill fetch them back;
And make them lick their lips at you, scratch for you:
I know not by what Fate, but true it is,
Wee neuer prize ought right till the departure,
And then our longing's multiplied. Can you fayne
A loue vnto some other Gentleman?
And seeme quite to neglect them and their seruice?

Pan.
I feare I cannot, 'tis too hard a Prouince:
But what will this aduantage me I pray you?

Pla.
So much, as nothing you can doe, will more.
A Louer's like a Hunter, if the game
Be got with too much ease hee cares not for't;
Shee that is wise in this our wayward age
VVill keepe her Louers sharpe, make them to ceize
Vpon a firebrand for meat.—What say you?

Pan.
Why I will try I say.

Pla.
Try? Oh that I
Had but that beauty in my managing,
In-faith I would not part with a good looke
Vnder a brace of Tens.

Pan.
Indeede Placenta
As you art now, you'd neede to sell them deare,
It is a rare commodity, your Shop
Affords not many of them.

Pla.
For a kisse
I'de haue a Lordship; a whole Patrimony
For a nights lodging; Come, you Maydens now
Are grown too kinde, too easie in your fauours,
A few smooth, oyly, verses now adayes
Bought of some Poet, and so iustly call'd
The Gallants owne that sends them, where your tresses
Are termed Sunbeames, and your rubie lips
Congealed Nectar, haue more power to winne you,
Then in my dayes two veluet Petticoates,
Or an hundred acres turn'd into Taffaties.
Speake, can you doe it?

Pan.
Sure I thinke I can,
If need require.

Pla.
It is enough, but see,
What Stripling's this comes here? Ha? 'tis most happily
This is Endymion Lucius his Page.

Sce. 7.

Endymion. Placenta. Pandora.
Endy.
There's not a solitary walke, nor Groue
Wherein a Louer may retire himselfe
Free from the eyes of the prophaner people,
But I haue trauers'd o're to finde my Master;
I haue not left a Spring vnquestioned,
Or any spreading Oake, whose quauering toppe
Is but halfe Phœbus proofe, nor can I heare
Ought of Neander his companion.

Pla.
Pandora, this same Boy was sent on purpose
Vnto this place by some kinde Nymph or other
Inhabiting these Woods in meere compassion
Of thee and of thy miseries; wee could not
Haue studied for a better Stale then this:
Prepare your selfe to faine a loue vnto him.

Endym.
But see Placenta, and my Masters Loue,
I will enquire of them.

Pla.
Endymion
All happinesse.

Endy.
As much to you Placenta.

Pan.
And what to me?

Endy.
What you deserue faire Lady,
Which is aboue my wishes.

Pla.
But Endymion,
Pri'thee sweet Lad, let mee entreat a courtesie,
What Country-man are you?

Endy.
What Country-man?
An English man I take it.

Pla.
An English man?
I rather thinke thou art a Russian
Thou carryest such a Winter in thy breast.
How canst thou suffer such a winning beauty
To stand neglected? without a salutation?
Goe to, you shame-fac'd foole, goe kisse her, goe.

Endy.
How kisse her? it does not become a seruant
To be so sawcie with his Masters Loue.

Pan.
It rather not becomes Endymion,
A Youth of that same molde and symetry
To be so bashfull 'fore a Gentlewoman:
As for thy Master I disclaime his loue
As one vnworthy.

Endy.
How? disclaime his loue?

Pan.
And with his loue, all the whole world of men,
Except 'be thee my soule: why flyest thou mee?

Pla.
Come on, Come on you little frozen-nothing,
I thinke wee must be fayne to make you take
Your loue potion in a horne, you are so skittish.

Endy.
Nay but Placenta.—

Placenta holds his hands whiles Pandora kisses him.
Pan.
O most redolent!
Aurora's spiced bed is not more sweet,
Nor all the odours of the early East.

Endy.
You do but mock me.

Pan.
How? but mock thee sweet?
By all the Cupids in thy face, I loue thee
Beyond th'expression of a womans tongue.

Pla.
This was that simple one that could not counterfeit.

Pan.
By this same nest of kisses I protest—
What would'st thou more?

Endy.
More of your protestations.

Pan.
But canst thou loue me then?

Endy.
Indeed faire Lady
I doe not know, I am but newly enter'd
Into this louing trade.

Pla.
You are a Wagge:
Take her by th'hand and streine it gently, so.—
Now kisse her fanne and sigh.—Good, excellent.
(Well I haue seene some Gallants in my dayes,
Though 'twas my fortune to be married,
To that same lob my husband, but no matter;)
Fy on this modesty, 'tis out of fashion,
Giue her a greene gowne quickly, shee will thanke you.

Endy.
Will not as much sattin of the same colour
To make her one doe as well?

Pla.
Come, you'r a foole;
Downe with her, shee will discard you else,
As bashfull, and vnfit for Ladies seruice.—

[Pandora slips downe and pulls him after her.]
Pan.
Ay me! what meane you Sir?

Pla.
Why there, why so;—
Oh for Neander now and Lucius
To view this spectacle, this would crack that great
That strong and mighty bond of friendship, and
Make them both quarrell for her: nay Endymion,
As shee did pluck you downe, so 'tis your office
To take her vp, else shee'l forget her selfe
Good soule, and slumber there eternally.—

Pan.
Now fie vpon you Sir, you've spoyl'd my linnen.
Pray Heauens no body saw vs: good Placenta
Reedifie what is amisse.

Pla.
All's well,
All's well, saue onely here does want a pin.
But stay I'le furnish you.—
Yes, here's a knot molested too.—

Pan.
Faire Sir,
This may seeme lightnesse in mee.

Pla.
Rather grauity
Who naturally tend downeward thus.

Pan.
But Sir,
Let me entreat you for to entertaine
A better faith of her that is your seruant,
Giue it the right name Sir, and call it Loue.

Endy.
I'le call it what you please faire Gentlewoman.

Pla.
Hee neuer thinks of's Master: well this Boy,
Must wee trayne farther with vs till wee meete
With our two icy Louers. Come Pandora
Will you entreate your fayrest Paramoure
T'accompany vs into the Groue? vvee may
Perchance there meete his Master, whom hee seekes.

Pan.
Sweet shall I craue?

Endy.
Not where you may cōmand

Pla.
So, so, I'le now go plant this billing couple
Exeunt Pan. Endym.
Vnder some pleasant tree, which done I'le goe
And range the fields for Lucius and Neander,
And bring them to behold their close embraces,
This certainely will make them hungry, and bite,
Waken their dull and sleepy appetite,
VVee neuer prize ought truly, thinke it deare,
Vntill the time of parting does draw neare.—

Exit.

The Song.

To the Ladies, Ioy, delight,
And a seruant that dares fight;
No neede of painting, but a face
With perpetuity of grace.
To the Lords a gracious eye
If they haue a Mistris by.
To them both, more then all this,
Theyr Princes happinesse, and blisse.