University of Virginia Library

Scene VIJ.

VVittipol. Mistresse Fitz-Dottrel. Manly. Mere-Craft. Fitz-Dottrell. Everill. Plvtarchvs.
Fit.
Madame, I haue a suit to you; and afore-hand,
I doe bespeake you; you must not deny me,
I will be graunted.

Wit.
Sir, I must know it, though.

Fit.
No Lady; you must not know it: yet, you must too.
For the trust of it, and the fame indeed,
Which else were lost me. I would vse your name,
But in a Feoffment: make my whole estate
Ouer vnto you: a trifle, a thing of nothing,
Some eighteene hundred.

Wit.
Alas! I vnderstand not
Those things Sir. I am a woman, and most loath,
To embarque my selfe—

Fit.
You will not slight me, Madame?

Wit.
Nor you'll not quarrell me?

Fit.
No, sweet Madame, I haue
Already a dependance; for which cause
I doe this: let me put you in, deare Madame,
Hee hopes to be the man.
I may be fairely kill'd.

Wit.
You haue your friends, Sir,
About you here, for choice.

Eve.
She tells you right, Sir.

Fit.
Death, if she doe, what do I care for that?
Say, I would haue her tell me wrong.

Wit.
Why, Sir,
If for the trust, you'll let me haue the honor
To name you one.

Fit.
Nay, you do me the honor, Madame:
She designes Manly.
Who is't?

Wit.
This Gentleman:

Fit.
O, no, sweet Madame,
H'is friend to him, with whom I ha' the dependance.

Wit.
Who might he bee?

Fit.
One Wittipol: do you know him?

Wit.
Alas Sir, he, a toy: This Gentleman
A friend to him? no more then I am Sir!

Fit.
But will your Ladyship vndertake that, Madame?

Wit.
Yes, and what else, for him, you will engage me.

Fit.
What is his name?

VVit.
His name is Eustace Manly.

Fit.
VVhence do's he write himselfe?

VVit.
of Middle-sex,
Esquire.

Fit.
Say nothing, Madame. Clerke, come hether
VVrite Eustace Manly, Squire o' Middle-sex.

Mer.
What ha' you done, Sir?

VVit.
Nam'd a gentleman,
That I'll be answerable for, to you, Sir.
Had I nam'd you, it might ha' beene suspected:
This way, 'tis safe.

Fit.
Come Gentlemen, your hands,
Eueril applaudes it.
For witnes.

Man.
VVhat is this?

Eve.
You ha' made Election
Of a most worthy Gentleman!

Man.
VVould one of worth
Had spoke it: whence it comes, it is
Rather a shame to me, then a praise.

Eve.
Sir, I will giue you any Satisfaction.

Man.
Be silent then: “falshood commends not truth.

Plv.
You do deliuer this, Sir, as your deed.
To th'vse of Mr. Manly?

Fit.
Yes: and Sir—
VVhen did you see yong Wittipol? I am ready,
For processe now; Sir, this is Publication.
He shall heare from me, he would needes be courting
My wife, Sir.

Man.
Yes: So witnesseth his Cloake there.

Fitz-dottrel is suspicious of Manly still.
Fit.
Nay good Sir,—Madame, you did vndertake—

VVit.
VVhat?

Fit.
That he was not Wittipols friend.

VVit.
I heare
Sr. no confession of it.

Fit.
O she know's not;
Now I remember, Madame! This young Wittipol,
VVould ha' debauch'd my wife, and made me Cuckold,
Through a casement; he did fly her home
To mine owne window: but I think I sou't him,
And rauish'd her away, out of his pownces.
I ha' sworne to ha'him by the eares: I feare
The toy, wi' not do me right.

VVit.
No? that were pitty!
VVhat right doe you aske, Sir? Here he is will do't you?

Wittipol discouers himselfe.
Fit.
Ha? Wittipol?

VVit.
I Sir, no more Lady now,
Nor Spaniard!

Man.
No indeed, 'tis Wittipol.

Fit.
Am I the thing I fear'd?

VVit.
A Cuckold? No Sir,
But you were late in possibility,
I'll tell you so much.

Man.
But your wife's too vertuous!

VVit.
VVee'll see her Sir, at home, and leaue you here,
To be made Duke o' Shore-ditch with a proiect.

Fit.
Theeues, rauishers.

VVit.
Crie but another note, Sir,
I'll marre the tune, o' your pipe!

Fit.
Gi'me my deed, then.

He would haue his deed again.
VVit.
Neither: that shall be kept for your wiues good,
VVho will know, better how to vse it.

Fit.
Ha'
To feast you with my land?

VVit.
Sir, be you quiet,
Or I shall gag you, ere I goe, consult
Your Master of dependances; how to make this
A second businesse, you haue time Sir.

VVitipol bafflees him, and goes out
Fit.
Oh!
VVhat will the ghost of my wise Grandfather,
My learned Father, with my worshipfull Mother,
Thinke of me now, that left me in this world
In state to be their Heire? that am become
A Cuckold, and an Asse, and my wiues Ward;
Likely to loose my land; ha' my throat cut:
All, by her practice!

Mer.
Sir, we are all abus'd!

Fit.
And be so still! VVho hinders you, I pray you,
Let me alone, I would enioy my selfe,
And be the Duke o' Drown'd-Land, you ha' made me.

Mer.
Sir, we must play an after-game o' this

Fit.
But I am not in case to be a Gam-ster:
I tell you once againe—

Mer.
You must be rul'd
And take some counsell.

Fit.
Sir, I do hate counsell,
As I do hate my wife, my wicked wife!

Mer.
But we may thinke how to recouer all:
If you will act.

Fit.
I will not think; nor act;
Nor yet recouer; do not talke to me?
I'll runne out o' my witts, rather then heare;
I will be what I am, Fabian Fitz-Dottrel,
Though all the world say nay to't.

Mer.
Let's follow him.