 | The Hogge hath Lost his Pearle |  |
Actus primi
Scena prima.
Enter Lightfoote a country gentleman passing ouer the stage and knocks at the other dore.Lightfoote.
Hoe
, Whose within here?
Enter Atlas a Porter
At.
Ha ye any mony to pay you knock with
such authority sir?
Li.
What if I haue not, may not a man knock
without money sir?
At.
Seldome, women and Seriaunts they will not put it vp
so sir.
Li.
How say you by that sir, but I prethee is not this one Atlas
his house a Porter?
At.
I am the rent payer thereof.
Li.
In good time sir.
At.
Not in good time, neither sir, for I am behinde with my
Land-lord a yeere and three quarters at least.
Li.
Now if a man would giue but obseruance to this fellowes
prating, a would weary his eares sooner then a Barber,
dee heare sir, lies there not one Haddit a gentleman at this
house?
At.
Here lies such a gentleman sir whose cloathes (were
they nor greasie) would bespeake him so.
Then I pray sir when your leasure shall permit, that you would
vouchsafe to helpe me to the speech of him.
At.
We must first craue your oath, sir that you come not with
intent to molest, perturbe, or indaunger him, for he is a gent.
whom it hath pleased fortune to make her tennis ball of, and
therefore subiect to be strucke by euery foole inro hassard.
Li.
In that I commend thy care of him, for which friendship
heres a slight reward, tell him a Country man of his, one Lightfoote
is here, and will not any way dispaire of his safetie.
At.
With all respect Sir, pray commaund my house.
Li.
So, now I shall haue a sight of my Cosen gallant, he that
hath consumed 800. pound a yeare, in as few yeares, as he hath
eares on his head: He that was wont neuer to be found without
3, or 4, paire of red breeches, running before his horse, or coach.
He that at a meale, hath had more seuerall kindes, then I thinke
the Arke conteyn'd: He that was admir'd by niters, for his robes
of gallantry, and was indeed all that an elder brother might
be, prodigall, yet he, whose vnthriftinesse kept many a house, is
now glad to keepe house in a house, that keepes him the poore
tente of a porter, and see his appearance, Ile seeme strange to
him.
Enter Haddit in poore Array.
Had.
Cosen Lightfoote how dost, welcome to the City,
Li.
Who cals me Cosen, wheres my Cosen Haddit, hees
surely putting on some rich apparell, for me to see him in. I ha
bin thinking al the way I came vp, how much his company will
Credit me.
Had.
My name is Haddit Sir, and your kinesman, if parents
may be trusted, and therefore you may please to know me better,
when you see me next.
Li.
I prethee fellow stay, is it possible thou shouldst be he,
why he was the generous sparke of mens admiration.
Had:
I am that sparke Sir, though now rak't vp in ashes,
Yet when it pleaseth fortunes chops to blow
From forth of embers rise and shine agen,
Li,
O by your versifying I know you now sir, how dost, I
knew thee not at first, thart very much altered.
Had.
Faith and so I am, exceeding much since you sawe me
last, about eight hundred pound a yeere; but let it passe, for passage
carried away the most part of it, a plague of fortune
Li.
That'st more neede to pray to fortune then curse her,
she may be kind to thee when thou art penitent, but that I feare
will be neuer.
Had.
O no, if she be a woman, sheele euer loue those that
hate her, but cozen thou art thy fathers first-borne, helpe me
but to some meanes, and Ile redeeme my mortgag'd lands with
a wench to boote.
Li.
As how I pray thee?
Ha.
Marry thus, Hogge the Vsurer hath one only daughter.
Li.
Is his name Hogge, it fits him exceeding well, for as a
hogge in his life time is alwayes deuouring, and neuer commodious
in aught till his death, euen so is he whose goods at that
time may be put to many good vses.
Had.
And so I hope they shall before his death, this daughter
of his, did, and I thinke doth loue me, but I then thinking my
selfe worthy of an Empresse, gaue but slight respect vnto her
fauour, for that her parentage sem'd not to equall my high
thoughts, puft vp,
Li,
With Tobacco surely,
Had
No but with as bad a weede, vaine glory.
Li.
And you could now be content, to put your lofty spirits
into the lowest pit of her fauour: VVhy what meanes will serue
man, Sfoote if all I haue will repaire thy fortunes, it shall fly at
thy commaund,
Ha.
Thankes good Coze, the meanes shall not be great, only
that I may first be clad in a generous outside, for that is the
chiefe attraction, that drawes female affection; good parts
without any abilements of gallantry, are no more set by in
these times, then a good legge in a wollen stocken: No, tis
a glistering presence and audacity brings women into fooles
felicity.
Yaue a good confidence Coze, but what deendien
your braue outside shall effect.
Had.
That being had wele to the Vsurer where you shal offer
some slight peece of land to mortgage, and if you doe it to
bring our selues into cash, it shall be nere the farther from you,
for heres a proiect will not be frustrate of this purpose.
Li.
That shal be shortly tryed, Ile instantly go seeke for a
habit for thee and that of the richest too, that which shall not
be subiect to the scoffe of any gallant, though to the accomplishing
thereof all my meanes goes: Alas whats a man vnlesse he
weare good cloathes.
Had.
Good speed attend my suite, heres a neuer seene Nephewe
kind in distresse, this giues me more cause of admiration
then the losse of XXXV. settings together at Passage. I when
tis performed, but words and deeds are now more different then
Puritans and Players.
Enter Atlas
At.
Heres the Player would speake with you.
Had.
About the Iigge, I promis'd him, my penne and inke, I
prethee let him in, there may be some Cash rim'd out of him.
Enter Player.
Pla.
The Muses assist you sir, what at your study so early.
Ha
O chiefely now sir for) aurora musis amicat)
Pla.
Indeed I vnderstand not latine sir.
Ha.
You must then pardon me, good M. Chaunge-coate,
for I protest vntee it is so much my often conuerse, that if there
be none but women in my company, yet cannot I forbeare it.
Pla.
That shewes your more learning sir, but I pray you is
that small matter done I intreated for.
Ha.
A small matter, youle finde it worth Megge of Westminster,
although it be but a bare Iigge.
Pla.
O lord sir, I would it had but halfe the taste of garlicke.
Ha.
Garlicke stinkes to this, proue that you haue not more
whores to see this, then ere Garlicke had, say I am a boaster of
mine owne workes, disgrace me on the open stage, and bob
me off with nere a penny.
Pla.
O lord sir, farre be it from vs, to debarre any worthy
writer of his merit; but I pray you sir, what is the title you bestow
vpon it?
Marry that which is full as forceable as Garlicke, the
name of it is who buyes my fowre ropes of hard Onions, by
which fowre ropes is meant fowre seueral kind of liuers, by the
onions hangers on, as at some conuenient time I wil more particularly
informe you in so rare a hidden and obscure a mistery.
Pla.
I pray let me see the beginning of it, I hope you haue
made no darke sentence in't, for Ile assure our audience commonly
very simple idle-headed people, and if they should heare
what they vnderstand not, they would quite forsake our house.
Ha.
O nere feare it, for what I haue writ is both witty to the
wise, and pleasing to the ignorant; for you shall haue these
laugh at it farre more heartily that vnderstand it not, then those
that doe.
Pla.
Me thinke the end of this staffe is a foote too long.
Ha.
O no, sing it but in tune, and I dare warrant you.
Pla,
Come buy my fowre ropes of hard S. Thomas onions:
Looke you there S. Thomas might very wel haue been left out,
besides, hard should haue come next the onions,
Ha.
Fie no, the dismembring of a rime to bring in reason
shewes the more efficacy in the writer.
Pla.
Well as you please, I pray you sir what wil the gratuity
be, I would content you as neere hand as I could.
Ha.
So I beleeue,
aside;
Why M. Change-coate, I do not suppose we shall differ many
pounds, pray make your offer, if you giue me too much, I will
most Doctor of Phicke like restoare.
Pla.
You say well, looke you sir, theres a brace of angels,
besides much drinke of free cost if it be lik't.
Ha.
How M. Change-coate a brace of angels besides much
drinke of free cost if it be lik't, I feare you haue learned it by
heart, if you haue powdred vp my plot in your sconce, you may
home sir and instruct your Poet ouer a pot of ale, the whole methode
on't, but if you do so iuggle, looke too't Shrouetuseday
is at hand, and I haue some acquaintance with Bricklayers and
Playsterers.
Pla.
Nay, I pray sir be not angry, for as I am a true stage-
otherwise, I giue you a brace more.
Had.
Well, good words doe much, I cannot now be angry
with you, but see henceforward, you doe like him that would
please a new married wife, shew your most at first, least some other
come betweene you and your desires, for I protest had you
not suddenly showne your good nature, another should haue
had it though t'ad bin for nothing.
Pla.
Troth I am sory I gaue you such cause of impatiency,
but you shall see hereafter if your inuention take, I will not
stand off for a brace more or lesse, desiring I may see your works
before another.
Ha.
Nay before al others, and shotly expect a notable peece
of matter such a Iigge whose tune with the naturall whistle of a
carman, shall be more rauishing to the eares of shopkeepers
then a whole consort of barbors at midnight.
Pla.
I am your man for't, I pray you commaund al the kindnesse
belongs to my function, as a box for your friend at a new
play although I procure the hate of all my company.
Had.
No Ile pay for it rather, that may breede a muteny in
your whole house.
Pla.
I care not, I ha plaid a Kings part anie time these ten
yeeres, if I cannot commaund such a matter twere poore ifaith.
Ha.
Well Maister chaunge coate you shal now leaue me, for
Ile to my studie, the morning houres are precious and my muse
meditates most vpon an empty stomacke.
Pla.
I pray sir when this new inuention is produc't let not
me be forgotten.
Ha.
Ile sooner forget to be a Iigge maker.
So heres foure angels I little dreampt of Nay and there bee
mony to be gotten by foolery, I hope fortune will not see me
want. Atlas, Atlas.
What was my country cose here since.
At.
Why did he promise to come againe seeing how the case
stoode wye.
Ha.
Ye and to aduaunce my downe falne fortunes Atlas.
At.
But ye are not sure a meant it yee when he spake it.
No nor is it in man to coniecture rightly the thought
by the tongue.
At.
Why then ile beleeue it when I see it, if you had beene
in prosperitie when a had promist you this kindenesse,
Ha.
I had not needed it.
At.
But being now you doe, I feare you must goe without it.
Ha.
If I doe Atlas be it so, ile ene goe write this rime ouer
my beds head.
Canst thou, and wilt not, pox on such a whore,
And so ile set vp my rest, but see Atlas heres a little of that that
dambs Lawyers, take it in part of a further recompence.
Atlas
No pray keepe it, I am conceited of your better
fortunes, and therefore will stay out that expectation.
Ha.
Why if you will you may, but the surmounting of my
fortunes is as much to be doubted, as he whose estate lies in the
lotterie, desperate.
At.
But nere despaire sfoote why should not you liue aswel
as a thousand others, that were change of taffety, whose meanes
were neuer anything.
Ha.
Yes cheating, theft, and pandarising, or may be flattery,
I haue maintained some of them my selfe, but come hast aught
to breakefast.
At.
Yes theres the fagg end of a leg of mutton,
Ha.
There cānot be a sweeter dish, it has Cost mony the dressing.
At.
At the barbours you meane.
Exeunt.
Enter Albert solus.
At.
This is the greene, and this the chamberwindow, and see
appointed light stands in the casement, the ladder of ropes set
orderly, yet he that should ascend, slow in his hast, is not at yet
come hether.
I'de trie the blisse which this fine time presents.
Appoint to carry hence so rare an heire,
And be so slacke sfoote a doth moue my patience,
Would any man that is not voide of sence
Not haue watcht night by night for such a prise,
Her beauties so attractiue, that by heauen,
Forgoe these thoughts for Albert be not slaue
To thy effection doe not falsifie
Thy faith to him, whose onely friendships worth
A world of women, hee is such a one,
Thou canst not liue without his good.
A is and was euer, as thine owne harts blood,
Sfoot see shee beckens me for Carracus,
Maria beckens him in the window.
Shall my base purity, cause me neglect,
This present happinesse, I will obteyne it,
Spight of my tymerous Conscience, I am in person,
Habit and all so like to Carracus,
It may be acted, and neere called in question.
Ma.
cals
Hist Carracus ascend.
All is as cleere as in our hearts we wisht.
Alb.
Nay, if I goe not now, I might be gelded ifaith.
Albert ascends, and being on the top of the ladder, puts outs the candle.
Ma.
O loue why doe soe.
Alb.
I heard the steps of some comming this way,
Did you not heare Albert passe by as yet.
Ma.
Nor any Creature passe this way this howre.
Alb.
Then hee intends iust at the breake of day,
To lend his trusty helpe to our departure:
Tis yet two howres time thether, till when lets rest,
For that our speedy flight will not yeeld any.
Ma.
But I feare we possessing of each others presence,
shall ouerslip the time, will your friend call.
Alb.
Iust at the instant, feare not of his Care:
Ma.
Come then deere Carracus, thou now shalt rest,
Vpon that bed, where fancy oft hath thought thee;
Which kindnesse vntill now, I nere did graunt thee,
Nor would I now, but that thy loyall faith
I haue so often tride, euen now,
Seeing thee come to that most honored end,
Through all the dangers, which blacke night presents,
For to conuey me hence and marry me.
Alb.
If I doe not doe so, then hate me euer,
I doe beleeue thee, and will hate thee neuer.
Exeunt.
Enter Carracus.
How pleasing are the steps we louers make,
When in the paths of our content wee pace,
To meet our longings: what happinesse it is
Man to loue. But oh, what greater blisse
To loue, and be beloued: O what one vertue,
Ere raignd in me, that I should be inricht,
With all Earths good at once, I haue a friend,
Selected by the heauens, as a gift,
To make me happy, whilst I liue one earth,
A man so rare of goodnesse, firme of faith,
That Earths Content must vanish in his death.
Then for my loue, and mistris of my soule,
A maid of rich endowments, beautified
With all the vertues nature could bestow
Vpon mortality, who this happy night
Will make me gainer of her heauenly selfe,
And see how suddenly I haue attaind,
To the abode of my desired wishes;
This is the greene, how darke the night appeares.
I cannot heare the tread of my true friend,
Albert, hist Albert, hees not come as yet,
Nor is thappointed light set in the window.
What if I call? Maria, it may be
Shee feard to set a light, and onely harkeneth
To heare my steps, and yet I dare not call,
Least I betray my selfe, and that my voice,
Thinking to enter in the eares of her,
Be of some other heard: no I will stay
Vntill the comming of my deare friend Albert.
But now thinke Carracus, what the end will be
Of this thou dost determine, thou art come
Hether to Rob a father of that wealth,
That soly lengthens his now drooping yeares,
His vertuous daughter, and all of that sex left,
To make him happy in his aged dayes,
The losse of her, may cause him to dispaire,
Or to some such abhorred in conuenience,
Whereto fraile age is subiect, I do too il in this,
And must not thinke but that a fathers plaint,
Wil moue the Heauens, to power forth misery.
Vpon the head of disobediency.
Yet reason tels vs, parents are oreseene,
VVhen with two strict a reine they do hold in,
Their childs affections, and controule that loue,
VVhich the high powers deuine inspires them with,
VVhen in their shallowest iudgements they may know
Affection crost, brings misery and woe:
But whilst I run contemplating on this,
I softly pace to my desired blisse,
Ile goe into the next field, where my friend,
Told me the horses were in readinesse.
Exit.
Albert descending from Maria,
Ma.
But do not stay, what if you finde not Albert,
Alb,
Ile then retourne alone to fetch you hence,
Ma.
If you should now deceaue me, hauing gain'd, what you
men seeke for.
Alb.
Sooner ile deceaue my soule, and so I feare I haue.
Ma.
At your first call I will descend.
Alb.
Till when, this touch of lips be the true pleadge,
of Carracus constant true deuoted loue,
Ma.
Be sure you stay not long, farewell,
I cannot lend an eare to heare you part,
Exit Ma.
Alb.
But you did lend a hand vnto my entrance.
He descends
How haue I wrong'd my friend, my faithfull friend,
Robd him of whats more precious then his blood,
His earthly heauen th'unspotted honor,
Of his soule-ioying Mistres, the fruition of whose bed,
I yet am warme of, whilst deere Carracus,
Wanders this cold night, through th'unsheltering field,
Seeking me treacherous man, yet no man neither,
Though in an outward shew of such appearance,
But am a Diuel indeed, for so this deed.
Of wronged loue and friendship rightly makes me,
Who lying on his death-bed, cals to him,
His dear'st thought friend and bids him goe,
To some rare gifted man that can restore,
His former health, this his friend sadly heares,
And vowes with protestations to fulfill,
His wisht desires, with his best performance,
But then no sooner seeing that the death,
Of his sicke friend, would ad to him some gaine.
Goes not to seeke a remedy to saue,
But like a wretch hides him to dig his graue,
As I haue done for vertuous Carracus,
Yet Albert be not reasonlesse, to indanger,
VVhat thou maist yet secure, who can detect,
The crime of thy licentious appetite,
I here ones pace tis surely Carracus.
Enter Carracus.
Ca.
Not finde my friend, sure some malignant plannet,
Rules ore this night, and enuying the content,
VVhich I in thought possesse, debarres me thus,
From what is more then happy, the loued presence of a deare friend and loue,
Alb.
Tis wronged Carracus by Alberts basenesse,
I haue no power now to reueale my selfe,
Car.
The horses stand at the appointed place,
And nights darke couerture, makes firme our safety,
My friend is surely falne into a slumber,
On some bancke hereabouts, I will call him,
Friend, Albert, Albert.
Alb
What ere you are that call, you know my name.
Ca.
I, and thy heart deare friend:
Alb.
O Carracus, you are a slow pac't louer.
Your credit had been toucht, had I not beene:
Ca.
As how I preethee Albert:
Alb.
Why I excusd you to the faire Maria;
Who would haue thought you else, a slacke performer.
For comming first vnder her chamber window,
Shoe heard me tread, and cald vpon your name,
To which I answered with a tongue like yours:
And straight retourne.
Ca.
Whom I haue found, thankes to thy faith, and heauen.
But had not shee a light, when you came first?
Alb.
Yes but hearing of some Company,
Shee at my warning, was forc't to put it out:
And had I bin so too, you and I too had still bin happy.
aside.
Ca.
See we are now come to the chamber window.
Al.
Then you must call, for so I said I would,
Ca.
Maria.
Ma.
My Carracus, are you so soone retournd?
I see, youle keepe your promise.
Ca.
VVho would not doe so, hauing past it thee,
Cannot be framd of aught but trechery:
Fairest descend, that by our hence departing,
VVe may make firme the blisse of our content.
Ma.
Is your friend Albert with you?
Alb.
Yes, and your seruant honored Lady.
Ma.
Hold me from falling Carracus.
shee descends.
Ca.
I will do now so; but not at other times.
Ma,
You are merry sir:
But what d'ee intend with this your scaling ladder,
To leaue it thus, or put it forth of sight?
Ca.
Faiths no great matter which:
Yet we will take it hence, that it may breed
Many confusd opinions in the house
Of your escape here: Albert you shall beate it:
It may bee you may chaunce to practise that way;
VVhich when you do, may your attempts so proue
As mine haue done, most fortunate in loue.
Alb
May you continew euer so:
But its time now to make some hast to horse:
Night soone will vanish: O that it had power
For euer to exclude day from oureies,
For my lookes then will shew my villany:
aside
Car.
Come faire Maria the troubles of this night,
Are as forerunners to ensuing pleasures,
And noble friend although now Carracus
To keepe from you so much of his lou'd treasure,
Which ought not be mixted, yet his heart
Shall so farre striue in your wish't happinesse,
That if the losse and ruine of it selfe can but auaile your good
Alb.
O friend, no more, come, you are slow in haste,
Friendship ought neuer be distrust in words,
Till all her deeds be finish't, who looking in a booke,
And reades but some part only, cannot iudge
What pray so the whole deserues, because his knowledge
Is grounded but on part, as thine friend is
aside,
Ignorant of that black mischiefe I haue done thee.
Ma.
Carracus I am weary, are the horses farre?
Ca.
No fairest, we are now euen at them:
Come, do you follow Albert?
Alb.
Yes I do follow, would I had done so euer,
And nere had gone before.
Exeunt.
| The Hogge hath Lost his Pearle | |