 | Amends for Ladies |  |
Actus primi
Scæna prima.
Enter the Lady Honor, the Lady Perfect, the Lady Bright.Maid.
A Wife the happiest state? It cannot be.
Wife.
Yes, such a wife as I, that haue a man
As if my selfe had made him: such a one
As I may iustly say, I am the rib
Belonging to his brest. Widow and Maide,
Your liues compar'd to mine are miserable,
Though wealth and beautie meete in each of you.
Poore virgin, all thy sport is thought of loue,
And meditation of a man, the time
And circumstance ere thou canst fixe thy thoughts
On one thy fancy will approue.
Maid.
That trouble already may be past.
Wife.
Why if it be.
The doubt, hee will not hold his brittle saith,
That he is not a competible choise,
And so your noble friends will crosse the match,
Doth make your happinesse vncertaine still:
Can you compare your state then to a Wife?
Maide.
Nay, all the freedome that a virgin hath
Is much to be preferr'd. Who would endure
The humours of so insolent a Thing
As is a husband? Which of all the Heard
Runs not possessed with some notorious vice,
Drinking or whoring, fighting, Iealousie,
Euen of a Page at twelue, or of a Groome,
That rubs horse-heeles? Is it not daily seene,
Men take wiues, but to dresse their meate, to wash
And starch their linnen: for the other matter
Of lying with them, that's but when they please:
And whatsoere the ioy be of the bed,
The pangs that follow procreation
Are hideous, or you wiues haue guld your husbands
With your loud shrikings, and your deathfull throes.
A Wife or Widow to a Virgins life?
Widow.
Why should the best of you thinke yee inioy
The rest and rule, that a free widow doth?
I am mine owne commander, and the blisse
Of wooers, and of each varietie
Frequents me, as I were a maide. No Brother
Haue I to dice my patrimony away, as you
My maiden Madame may. No husbands death
Stand I in doubt on: for thankes be to heauen
(If mine were good) the grieuous losse of him
Is not to come; if hee were bad, hee's gone,
And I no more embrace my iniury.
But be yours ill, you nightly claspe your hate;
Or good, why he may dye, or change his vertue.
And thou (though single) hast a bed-fellow
As bad as the worst husband, thought of one,
And what that is, men with their wiues do doe,
And long expectance till the deed be done.
“A wife is like a garment vsde and torne:
“A maide like one made vp, but neuer worne.
Selling at second hand, like Brokers ware.
Make happy to vs, and see what is best.
I haue a seruant then the crowne of men,
The fountaine of Humanitie, the prize
Of euery vertue, Morall and Diuine;
Young, valiant, learned, well-borne, rich and shap'd
As if wife Nature when she fashioned him,
Had meant to giue him nothing but his forme,
Yet all additions are conferr'd on him,
That may delight a woman: this same youth
To me hath sacrific'd his heart, yet I
Haue checkt his suite, laught at his worthy seruice,
Made him the exercise of my crueltie,
Whilst constant as the Sunne, for all these clouds
His loue goes on.
Enter Ingen.
Widow.
Peace, here's the man you name.
Wife., Widow.
Wee'll stand aside.
Ing.
Good morrow to the glory of our age.
Meeting the Wife & Wid.
The Lady Perfect, and the Lady Bright,
The vertuous wife and widow: but to you
The Lady Honor, and my Mistresse.
The happinesse of your wishes.
Maid.
By this light, I neuer heard one speake so scuruily,
Vtter such stale wit, and pronounce so ill.
But to you,
My Lady Honor, and my Mistresse,
The happinesse of your wishes.
Ingen.
Stop your wit,
You would faine shew these Ladies what a hand
You hold ouer your seruant. T' shall not neede,
I will expresse your tyranny well enough.
I haue lou'd this Lady since I was a childe,
Since I could construe Amo: now she saies
I doe not loue her, 'cause I doe not weepe,
Walke with mine eyes in my hat, sigh, and make faces
For all the Poets in the towne to laugh at,
Poxe a this howling loue, ti's like a dogg
Shut out at midnight. Must loue needs be poudred,
Lie steept in brine; or will it not keepe sweet?
Is it like beefe in sommer?
Maid.
Did you euer
Heare one talke fustian like a Butcher thus?
Ingen.
T'is foolish, this same telling folkes we loue,
It needs no words, t'will show it selfe in deeds,
And did I take you for an entertainer,
A Lady that will wring one by the finger,
Whil'st on anothers toes shee treads, and cries
By Gad I loue but one, and you are hee:
Either of them thinking himselfe the man,
I'de tell you in your eare, put for the busines,
Which graunted, or denied, Maddam God b'wee.
Maid.
Come these are daily slaunders that you raise,
On our infirme and vnresisting Sexe,
You neuer met I am sure with such a Lady.
Ingen.
Oh many by this light, I haue seene a Chamber
Frequented like an office of the Law,
Clients succeede at midnight one another:
Whilst the poore Maddam hath beene so distrest,
Which of her Loues to show most countenance to,
That hir dull Husband ha's perceiu'd her wiles.
Maid.
Nay perhaps taught her, many of those Husbands
Are base enough
To liue vpon't.
Ingen.
I haue seene another of 'em
Cheat by this light at Cardes, and set her women,
To talke to the Gentlemen that plaid,
That so distracted they might ouer see.
Maid.
Oh fie vpon yee, I dare sweare you lie.
Ingen.
Doe not faire Mistresse, you will be forsworne.
Maid.
You men are all foule mouth'd, I warrant, you
Because we keepe the Cittie.
Ingen.
Oh prophane.
That thought would damne me, will you marrie yet?
Maid.
No I will neuer marry.
Ingen.
Shall we then
Couple vnlawfully? for indeed this marrying
Is but proclaming what we meane to doe;
Which may be done priuatly, in ciuill sort
And none the wiser, and by this white hand La:
The wrack, Strapado, or the boiling boote,
Should neuer force me tell to wrong your honor.
Maid.
May I beleeue this?
Ingen.
Let it bee your Creed.
Maid.
But if you should proue false. Nay ne'er vnhang
Your sword, except you meane to hang your selfe:
Why where haue you beene drinking? 'sfoot you talke
Like one of these same rambling boies,
That raigne in Turnebull-street.
Ingen.
How doe you know?
Maid.
Indeed my knowledge, is but speculatiue
Not practique there, I haue it by Relation,
From such obseruers as your selfe deare Seruant,
I must professe, I did thinke well of thee,
But get thee from my sight, I neuer more
Will heare or see thee, but will hate thee deadly,
As a man enemy, or a woman turn'd.
Enter Widdow, Wife.
Ladies come forth, see Sir what Curtesie
You haue done to mee, a strange praise of you
Had newly left my lips, iust, as you entred,
And how you haue deseru'd it, with your carriage?
Villain, thou hast hurt mine honor to these friends,
For what can they imagine but some ill
Hath past betwixt vs by thy broad discourse?
Were my case theirs, by Virgin Chastity,
I should condemne them: hence, depart my sight.
Ingen.
Madam, but here mee, oh that these were men,
I haue so good a cause vpon my side,
That I would cut their hearts out of their brests:
And the thoughts out of them that iniur'd you.
But I obay your best, and for my pennance,
Will run a course neuer to see you more,
And now I loose you, may I loose the light:
Since in that beauty dwelt my day or night.
Exit Ingen.
Widd.
Is this the vertuous youth?
Wife.
Your happines?
Widd.
Wherein you thought your seat so far 'boue ours,
Maid.
If one man could be good, this had beene hee.
Enter Svbtle, Hvsband, Feesimple, Wel-tri'd.
See here comes all your sutors, and your Husband,
And roome for Laughter, heer's the Lord Feesimple,
What Gentlewoman do's hee bring along?
Enter Hvsband, embracing Svbtle, the Lord Feesimple, with young Bovld like awaiting Gentlewoman. VVel-tri'd, Hvsb: Svbtle talke with Wife.
Fees.
One and thirty good-morrows to the fairest, wisest,
chastest, richest VViddow that euer conuersation coapt
withall.
Widd.
Three score and two vnto the wisest Lord,
That euer was train'd in vniuersitie.
Feesimp.
Oh Curteous, bounteous Widow, shee ha's outbid
me 31. Good morrowes at a clap.
Welt.
But my Lord Feesimple you forgot the busines impos'd
on you.
Fees.
Gentlewoman, I crie thee mercie, but ti's a fault in
all Lords, not in mee only, we doe vse to sweare by our Honors:
and as we are Noble, to dispatch such a businesse for
such a Gentleman and wee are bound, euen by the same
Honors wee sware by, to forget it in a quarter of an houre.
meete next, especially if none of our Gentlemen haue bin
considered.
Welt.
I, but all your's haue, for you keepe none my Lord:
Besides though it stands with your Honor to forget mens
businesses; yet it stands not with your Honor, if you doe not
doe a womans.
Feesi.
Why then Maddam, so it is that I request your Ladiship
to accept into your seruice this Gentlewoman, for
her truth & honestie I will be bound, I haue knowne her too
long to be deceiu'd, this is the second time I haue seene her.
Maid.
Why how now my Lord: a preferrer of Gentlewomen
to seruice like an old knitting woman? where hath
Shee dwelt before.
Feesi.
Shee dwelt with young Boulds sister, hee that is my
Corriuall in your Loue, she requested me to aduance her to
You; for you are a dub'd Lady: so is not shee yet.
Welt.
But now you talk of yong Bould, when did you see
him Lady?
Wid.
Not this month Maister Well-tri'd.
I did coniure him to forbeare my sight:
Indeed swore if he came Il'd be denied,
But tis strange you should aske for him, yee two were wont
neuer to be asunder.
Welt.
Faith Maddam we neuer were together but wee
differd on some argument or other,
Breed to some quarrell, I forbeare him to.
Fees.
He quarrell? Bould: hang him, if he durst haue quarrel'd,
the world knowes hee's within a mile of an oke ha's
put him too't, and soundly, I neuer car'd for him in my life,
but to see his sister, hee's an asse, pox an arrant asse, for doe
you thinke any but an arrant asse, would offer to come a
wooing, where a Lord atempts? he quarrell: hee dares not
quarrell.
Welt.
But hee dares fight my Lord, vpon my knowledge,
And raile no more my Lord, behind his back,
Drawes.
Fees.
Oh, oh my honor dies, I am dead.
Welt.
Vd'slight whats the matter, wring him by the nose
Widd.
A paire of riding spurs now were worth gold,
Maid.
Pins are as good, prick him, prick him
Feesim.
Oh, oh.
Wife.
Hee's come againe, lift him vp.
Omnes.
How fares your Lordship?
Fees.
Oh friends, you haue wrong'd my spirit to call it
backe, I was ee'n in Elizium at rest.
Welt.
But why sir did you sowne?
Feesi.
Well though I die Maister Wel-tri'd before all these
I doe forgiue you, because you were ignorant of my infirmitie,
oh sir, i'st not vp yet, I die againe, put vp now whil'st
I winke, or I doe winke for euer.
Welt.
Ti's vp my Lord, ope your eies, but I pray tell mee
Is this antipathie twixt bright steele and you naturall, or
how grew it?
Feesi.
Il'e tell you sir, any thing bright and edg'd, works
thus strongly with me, your hilts now I can handle as boldlie,
looke you else.
Knight.
Nay neuer blame my Lord, Maister Well-tri'd, for
I know a great manie will sowne at the sight of a shoulder
of mutton or a quarter of Lambe, my Lord may be excus'd
then, for a naked sword.
Welt.
This Lord, and this knight in dogge-collers would
make a fine brace of beagles.
Maid.
But on my faith twas mightily ouerseene of your
father, not to bring you vp to foyles, or if hee had bound
you Prentise to a Cutler or an Ire-monger.
Fees.
I a poxe, hang him old gouty foole, he neuer brought
me vp to any Lordly exercise, as fencing, dancing, tumbling,
and such like: but forsooth I must write and reade, & speake
languages, and such base qualities, fit for none but Gentlemen.
Now sir would I tell him, Father you are a Count, I
am a Lo: a poxe a writing and reading, and languages, let
mee be brought vp as I was borne.
But how my Lord came you first not to indure the
sight of steele.
Feesi.
Why I'le tell you Sir, when I was a child, an infant,
an Innocent.
Maid.
T'was e'ne now.
Fees.
I being in the kitchin, in my Lo: my fathers house,
the Cooke was making minc'd pyes: so sir, I standing by the
Dresser, there lay a heape of plums. Here was hee mincing;
what did mee I sir, being a not able little witty coxcombe,
but popt my hand iust vnder his chopping knife, to snatch
some Reysins, and so was cut ore the hand, and neuer since
could I endure the sight of any edge-toole.
Wid.
Indeede they are not fit for you my Lord, and now
you are all so well satisfied in this matter, pray Ladies now
like you this my Gentlewoman?
Maid.
In troth Maddam exceeding well I, if you be prouided,
pray let me haue her.
Wife.
It should be my request, but that I am full.
Wid.
What can you doe? What's her name my Lord?
Fees.
Her name? I know not. What's her name M
r. Well-try'd?
Weltr.
Her name? slid, tell my Lady your name.
Bould.
Mistresse Mary Princox forsooth.
Wid.
Mistresse Mary Princox: she has wit, I perceiue that
already. Mee thinkes she speakes as if she were a my Lords
brood.
Bould.
Brood Maddame, 'tis well knowne I am a Gentlewoman.
My father was a man of 500. per annum, and hee
held something in Capite too.
Welt.
So does my Lord, something.
Fees.
Nay, by my troth, what I hold in capite is worth little
or nothing.
Bould.
I haue had apt breeding, how euer my misfortune
now makes me submit my selfe to seruice: but there is
no ebbe so low, but hath his tyde againe: when our dayes
are at worst, they will mend in spight of the frowning Destinies,
For wee cannot be lower then earth, and the same
my occasions, may turne her wheele, and at last winde them
vp with her white hand to some pinnacle that prosperously
may flourish in the Sunne-shine of promotion.
Fees.
Oh mouth, full of agilitie, I would giue 20. Markes
now to any person that could teach mee to conuey my
tongue (sance stumbling) with such dexteritie to such a period.
For her truth and her honesty I am bound before, but
now I haue heard her talke, for her wit I will be bound body
and goods.
Wid.
V'dslight, I will not leaue her for my hood.
I neuer met with one of these eloquent old Gentlewomen
before. What age are you Mistresse Mary Princox?
Bould.
I will not lye Maddam, I haue numbred 57. Summers,
and iust so many winters haue I past.
Subt.
But they haue not past you, they lye frozen in your
face.
Bould.
Maddam, if it shall please you to entertaine me, so:
if not, I desire you not to misconstrue my good will, there's
no harme done, the doore's as big as it was, and your Ladiships
owne wishes crowne your beauty with content. As for
these frumping Gallants, let them doe their worst: it is not
in mans power to hurt mee: 'tis well knowne I come not
to be scoff'd. A woman may beare and beare till her backe
burst. I am a poore Gentlewoman, and since vertue has now
a dayes no other companion but pouerty, I set the Hares
head against the Goole giblets, and what I want one way
I hope I shall be inabled to supply the other.
Fees.
A'nt please God, that thou wert not past children;
Wid.
Ist e'ne so my Lord? nay good Princox do not crie,
I doe entertaine you, how doe you occupie? what can you
vse?
Bould.
Any thing fit to be put into the hands of a Gentlewoman.
Wid.
What are your qualities?
Bould.
I can sleepe on a low stoole, if your Lady-ship be
talking in the same roome with any Gentle-man, I can reade
heare and be deafe, see and be blind, be euer dumb to your
secrets, sweare and equiuocate, and whatsoeuer I spie, say
the best.
Wid.
Oh rare Croane? how art thou endu'd? but why did
Master Boulds sister put you away?
Bould.
I beseech you Madame to neglect that desire,
though I know your Lady-ships vnderstanding to be sufficient
to partake or take in the greatest secret; can be imparted:
yet.—
Wid.
Nay prithie tell the cause, come heer's none but
freinds.
Bould.
Faith Madame, heigh ho, I was (to confesse truly)
a little foolish in my last seruice, to beleeue mens oaths, but
I hope my example, though preiudiciall to my selfe, will be
beneficiall to other yong Gentle-women in seruice, my mistresses
brother (the Gentle-man you nam'd e'now, master
Bould) hauing often attempted my honor, but finding it impregnable,
vow'd loue, and marriage to me, at the last, I, a
yong thing and raw, being seduced, set my minde vpon him,
but friends contradicting the match, I fell into a greiuous
consumption, and vpon my first recouerie, least the intended
sacred ceremonies of Nuptials should succede, his sister
knowing this, thought it fit in her iudgement, we should be
farther a sunder, and so put me out of her seruice.
Omnes.
Ha, ha, ha.
Wid.
God a mercie for this discouerie ifaith,
Oh man what art thou? when thy cock is vp? come wil your
lordship walke in? tis dinner time.
Enter hastily M. Seldome with papers on his arme.
Omnes.
Whose this? whose this?
Maid.
This is our Land-lord, Master Seldome,
An exceeding wife Citizen, a very sufficient vnderstanding
man, and exceeding rich.
Om.
Miracles are not ceasd.
Wid.
Good morrow Land-lord, where haue you beene
sweating?
Seld.
Good morrow to your Honors, thrift is industrious,
your Lady-ship knowes we will not stick to sweat for our
I am come from master Ingen this morning who is married
or to be married, and though your Ladyships did not
honor his Nuptials with your presence, he hath by me sent
each of you a paire of gloues, and Grace Seldome my wife is
not forgot.
Exit.
Omnes.
God giue him ioy, God giue him ioy.
Exeunt.
Maid.
Let all things most impossible change now.
Oh periur'd man! oathes are but words I see.
But wherefore should not we that thinke we loue
Vpon full merrit, that same worth once ceasing
Surcease our loue to, and finde new desert?
Alas we cannot, loue's a pit, which, when
We fall into we ne're get out againe,
And this same horrid newes which me assaults
I would forget, loue blanches blackest faults:
Oh! what path shall I treade for remedie?
But darkest shades, where loue with death doth lie.
Exit.
Manent Hvsband, Wife, Svbtle.
Wife.
Sir I haue often heard my husband speake of your
acquaintance.
Husb.
Nay my vertuous wife,
Had it beene but acquaintance, this his absence
Had not appear'd so vncouth, but we two
Were Schoole-fellowes together, borne and nurs'd,
Brought vp, and liu'd since like the Gemins,
Had but one suck, the Tauerne or the Ordinarie.
Ere I was married, that saw one of vs
Without the other, said we walk't by halfes,
Where deere, deere friend haue you beene all this while?
Subt.
Oh most sweet friend the World's so vicious,
That had I with such familiaritie
Frequented you since you were married,
Possess'd and vs'd your fortunes as before,
As in like maner you commanded mine,
The deprau'd thoughts of men would haue proclaim'd
Some scandalous rumors from this loue of ours,
And what a wound had that beene to our soules?
When only friend-ship should haue beene the ground
To hurt her Honor, and your confident peace,
Spight of mine owne approu'd integritie.
Husb.
Wife, kisse him, bid him welcome pox o'th World,
Come, come you shall not part from me in hast,
I doe command thee vse this Gentle-man
In all things like my selfe, if I should die
I would bequeath him in my will to thee.
Wife.
Sir, you are most welcome, & let scandalous tongues
No more deterre you, I dare vse you Sir,
With all the right belonging to a friend,
And what I dare, I dare let all men see
My conscience rather, then mens thoughts be free.
Husb.
Will you looke in?
Wee'le follow you. Now friend
Exit. Wife.
What thinke you of this Ladie?
Subt.
Why sweet friend,
That you are happie in her, shee is faire,
Wittie and vertuous, and was rich to you,
Can there be an addition to a wife?
Husb.
Yes, constancie, for t'is not chastitie
That liues remote from all attempters free,
But there, ti's strong and pure where all that wooe
It doth resist, and turnes them vertuous too;
Therefore deere friend, by this, loues masculine kisse,
By all our mutuall engagements past,
By all the hopes of amitie to come,
Be you the setler of my jealous thoughts,
And make me kill my fond suspect of her,
By assurance that shee is loyall, otherwise
That shee is false, and then, as shee's past cure,
My soule shall euer after be past care.
That you are fittest for this enterprize
You must needs vnderstand, since prooue shee true
(In this your tryall) you my dearest friend,
(Whom onely, rather than the World besides
And best conceale my folly, proue shee weake,
T'is better you should know't than any man,
Who can reforme her, and doe me no wrong,
Chimicall metals, and bright gold it selfe
By sight are not distinguisht, but by'th test,
Thought makes good wiues, but triall makes the best:
To the vnskilfull owners eies, alike
The Bristow sparkles as the Diamond,
But by a Lapidarie the truth is found,
Come you shall not denie me.
Subt.
Doe not wrong
So faire a wife (friend) and so vertuous,
Whose good name is a theame vnto the World,
Make not a wound with searching where was none,
Misfortune still such projects doth pursue,
He makes a false wife, that suspects a true;
Yet since you so importune, giue me leaue
To ruminate a while, and I will straight
Follow and giue you an answer.
Husb.
You must do it.
Exit.
Subt.
Assure your selfe deere—Coxcombe, I will do't
Or strangely be denied, all's as I wisht,
This was my aime, although I haue seem'd strange.
I know this fellow now to be an Asse;
A most vnworthie husband though in view
He beare himselfe thus faire, shee knowes this too,
Therefore the stronger are my hopes to gaine her:
And my deere friend that will haue your wife trid'e,
I'le trie her first, then thrust her if I can,
And as you said most wisely I hoped to be
Both Touch-stone to your wife and Lapidarie.
Exit.
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