 | The citye match |  |
Scena II.
Plotwell. Aurelia.Plotw.
Sister tis so projected, therefore make
No more demurres, the life of both our fortunes
Lies in your carriage of things well; think therefore
Whither you will restore me, and advance
38
Fly this your lodging, like uncustomd sinners,
And have your Coach-horses transformd to Rent,
Have your apparell sold for properties,
And you returne to Cut-work. By this hand
If you refuse all this must happen.
Aur.
Well, Sir,
Necessitie which hath no Law, for once
Shall make me oth' conspiracy, and since
We are left wholy to our wits, Let's show
The power and vertue of 'em; if your Baneswright
Can but perswade my Uncle, I will fit
Him with a Bride.
Plotw.
The Scene is laid already;
I have transformd an English Poet into
A fine French Teacher, who shall joyne your hands
With a most learned legend out of Rablais.
Aur.
But for my true groom who you say comes hither
For a disguised Knight, I shall think I wed
His Fathers Counting-house, and goe to bed
To so much Bullion of a man Faith I've
No minde to him, brother, he hath not wit enough
To make't a lawfull marriage.
Plot.
Y' are deceivd,
I'le undertake by one weekes Tutoring,
And carrying him to Plaies and Ordinaries,
Engaging him in a quarrell or two, and making
Some Captaine beat him, to render him a most
Accomplisht Gallant. Or say he be borne, sister,
Under the City planet, pray what wise Lady
Desires to match a wise Knight? you'd marry some
Philosopher now, that should every night
Lye with you out of Aristotle, and loose
Your maiden-head by Demonstration.
Or some great statesman, before whom you must sit
As silent and reservd as if your looks
Had plots on forreine Princes, and must visit
And dresse your selfe by Tacitus. What he wants
In Naturals, his fortunes will make up
In Honours, Pen; when hee's once made a Lord,
Who'l be so sawey as to think he can
Be impotent in wisdome? She that marries
A foole, is an Hermaphrodite, the Man
39
He'l be here presently, and comes prepar'd
For Hymen. I took up a footman for him,
And left him under three tyremens hands, besides
Two Barbers.
Aur.
Well, Sir, I must then accept him
With all his imperfections, I have
Procur'd a Sir Iohn yonder.
Plotw.
Who ist?
Aur.
One
That preaches the next parish once a week
Enter a Footman
A sleep for thirty pounds a yeare.
Foot.
Here is
A Knight desires your Ladiship will give
Him audience.
Aur.
Tis no Knight Embassadour?
Foot.
He rather lookes like a Knight oth' Sun.
Pl.
Tis He.
Aur.
Let him come in.
Plot.
If you be coy now, Pen,
Ex. Foot.
You spoile all.
Aur.
Well, Sir, I'le be affable.
| The citye match | |