 | A Tragi-Comedy : Called, Match mee in London |  |
ACTVS, II.
A shop opened, Enter Bilbo and Lazarillo.Bil.
Lazarillo art bound yet?
Laz.
No, but my Indentures are made.
Bil.
Make as much haste to seale, as younger Brothers doe at
taking vp of Commodities: for Lazarillo, there's not any Deigo
that treads vpon Spanish leather, goes more vpright vpon the soles
of his Conscience, then our Master does.
Laz.
Troth so I thinke, now I like my little smirking Mistris as well.
Bil.
Like her, did not I like her simply, to runne away from
her father (where I had both men Seruants and maid Seruants vnder
me) to weare a flat cap here and cry what doe you lacke.
Enter Gallants.
Laz.
What is't you lacke Gentlemen, rich garters, spangled
Bil.
Don sweet Don, see here rich Tuscan hat bands, Venetian
ventoyes, or Barbarian shoo-strings—no poynt—
Exeunt. Gallan.
Laz.
Their powder is dankish and will not take fire.
Bilb.
Reach that paper of gloues what marke is't?
Laz.
P. and Q.
Enter Malevento.
Bil.
P. and Q. chafe these, chafe, chafe, here's a world to
make Shopkeepers chafe.
Laz.
What is't you buy Sir, gloues, garters, girdles.
Bil.
Lazarillo, Lazarillo, my old master Andrada Malevento; do
you heare sir, the best hangers in Spaine for your worship.
Mal.
Vmh! I haue knowne that voyce, what! Run away!
Why how now Bilbo! growne a Shopkeeper!
Bil.
Iogging on Sir, in the old path to be call'd vpon to
beare all offices, I hope one day.
Mal.
'Tis well: good fortunes blesse you.
Bil.
Turn'd Citizen sir, a Counter you see still before me, to
put me in mind of my end, and what I must goe to, if I trust too
many with my ware, it's newes to see your worship in Siuill.
Mal.
'Tis true: but Bilbo, no newes yet of my Daughter?
Bil.
None.
Mal.
Not any.
Bil.
What will your worship giue me, if I melt away all that
sow of lead that lyes heauy at your heart, by telling you where
shee is.
Mal.
Prithee step forth, speake softly, thou warm'st my blood,
Ile giue thee the best suite Prentize e're wore.
Bil.
And I can tell you Prentizes are as gallant now, as some
that walke with my cozen Bilbo at their sides, you can scarce
know 'em from Prentizes of Siuill.
Mal.
Fly to the marke I prithee?
Bil.
Now I draw home, doe you see this shop, this shop is my Masters.
Mal.
So, so, what of all this?
Bil.
That master lies with my yong mistris, and that mistris is your Daughter.
Ha!
Bil.
Mum: she's gone forth, this morning to a Wedding,
he's aboue, but (as great men haue done) he's comming downe.
Enter Cordolente.
Mal.
Is this he?
Bil.
This is he.
Cord.
Looke to the shop.
Mal.
Pray sir a word?
Cor.
You shall.
Mal.
You doe not know me?
Cord.
Trust me not well.
Mal.
Too well, thou hast vndone me,
Thou art a Ciuill Theefe with lookes demure
As is thy habit, but a Villaines heart.
Cor.
Sir—
Mal.
Heare me sir—to rob me of that fire
That fed my life with heate (my onely Child)
Turne her into—
Cor.
What sir! She's my wife.
Mal.
Thy Strumpet, she's a disobedient Child,
To crosse my purposes; I promis'd her
To a man whom I had chosen to be her Husband.
Cord.
She lou'd him not; was she contracted to him?
Can he lay claime to her by Law?
Mal.
Ile sweare,
She told me I should rule her, that she was
Affy'd to no other man, and that to please me
She would onely take Gazetto.
Cord.
I will forbeare Sir
To vexe you; what she spake so, was for feare,
But I ha' done, no Begger has your child
I craue no Dowrie with her, but your Loue,
For hers I know I haue it.
Mal.
Must I not see her!
Cord.
You shall but now she's forth sir.
Mal.
She has crackt my very heart-strings quite in sunder.
Cord.
Her loue and duty shall I hope knit all more strongly
Is layd all open to you, you shall find
An honest heart there, and you will be glad
You h'a met the Theefe that rob'd you, and forgiue him,
I am ingag'd to businesse craues some speed,
Please you be witnesse to it.
Mal.
Well I shall,
Parents with milke feed Children, they them with gall.
Exeunt.
Bil.
As kind an old man Lazarillo, as euer drunk mull'd Sack.
Laz.
So it seemes, for I saw him weepe like a Cut Vine.
Bil.
Weepe; I warrant that was because hee could not find
in's heart to haue my Master by th'eares.
Enter Tormiella.
Laz.
My Mistris.
Bil.
Chafe chafe.
Tor.
Where's your master.
Bil.
Newly gone forth forsooth.
Tor.
Whether, with whom?
Bil.
With my old Master your Father.
Tor.
Ha! my Father! when came he! who was with him?
What said he, how did my Husband vse him?
Bil.
As Officers at Court vse Citizens that come without
their Wiues, scarce made him drinke, but they are gone very
louingly together.
Torm.
That's well, my heart has so ak't since I went forth, I
am glad I was out of the peales of Thunder, askt hee not for
mee, was Gazetto with him, Luke was not hee with him ha!
Bil.
No onely the old man.
Tor.
That's well, reach my workebasket, is the imbrodered
Muffe perfum'd for the Lady?
Bilbo.
Yes forsooth, she neuer put her hand into a sweeter
thing.
Torm.
Are you sure Gazetto was not with my Father?
Vnlesse he wore the invisible cloake.
Tor.
Blesse me from that disease and I care not, one fit of him
would soone send me to my graue; my hart so throbs?
Enter Gazetto and Officers.
Laz.
What is't you lacke.
Bil.
Fine Garters, Gloues, Glasses, Girdles what is't you buy,
Gaz.
I haue a warrant you see from the King to search all Siuell
for the woman that did this murther, the act of which has
made me mad, misse no shop, let me haue that, which I can buy
in some Country for seuen groates Iustice!
Off.
Your searching house by house this is so spread abroad
that 'tis as bad as a scarcrow to fright away the bird you seeke
to Catch, me thinks if you walke soberly alone, from shop to
shop your bat fowling would catch more wagtailes.
Gaz.
Well shot Sagitarius, Ile nock as thou bidst mee,
Offi.
What thinke you of yonder parrot i'th Cage.
Gaz.
A rope—ha—puffe—is the wind with mee.
Tor.
What stares the man at so.
Offi.
His wits are reeld a little out of the road way nothing else;
Bil.
Alas mistris, this world is able to make any man mad.
Gaz.
Ha ha ha ha.
Offi.
What doe you laugh at, is this shee.
Gaz.
No, but I saw a doue fly by that had eaten Carrion it
shewd like a corrupted Churchman farewell.
Off.
Doe you discharge vs then.
Exeunt Officers.
Gaz.
As haile shot at a dunghill where Crowes are.
Th'art mine; thankes vengeance; thou at last art come,
(Tho with wolly feet) be quick now and strike home.
Exit.
Enter King and Lady.
Laz.
What is't you lacke.
Bil.
What is't you buy.
Lady.
That's shee.
Peace; Madam lets try here:
Bil.
What is't you lack sir!
King.
A gloue with an excellent perfume.
Bil.
For your selfe sir!
King.
I would fit my selfe sir, but I am now for a woman: a
pritty little hand, the richest you haue.
Lad.
About the bignesse of this gentlewomans will serue:
King.
Yes faith Madam, at all adventures Ile make this my
measure, shall I mistrisse!
Tor.
As you please sir.
Kin.
It pleases mee well.
Bil.
Then sir go no farder, heer's the fairest in all Spaine, fellow
it and take mine for a dogskin.
La.
Pray forsooth draw it on, if it fit you it fits the party surely.
Bil.
Nay Madam, the gloue is most genuine for any young
Ladies hand vnder the Coape, I assure you.
King
I but the Leather.
Bil.
Nay, the Leather is affable and apt to bee drawn to any
generous disposition.
Kin.
Pray (faire Lady) does it not come on too stiffe?
Tor.
No sir very gently.
Bil.
Stiffe; as prolixious as you please: nay sir the sent is Aromaticall
and most odorous, the muske vpon my word Sir is perfect
Cathayne, a Tumbasine odor vpon my credit, not a graine
either of your Salmindy Caram or Cubit musk.
King.
Adulterated I doubt.
Bil.
No adultery in the world in't, no sophistication but
pure as it comes from the cod.
Tor.
Open more, you shall haue what choyce you please.
Bil.
You shall haue all the ware open'd i'th shop to please
your worship, but you shall bee fitted.
King.
No no, it needs not: that which is open'd already shall
serue my turne.
Lady.
Will you goe farther sonne and see better.
And perhaps speed worse: no: your price?
Bil.
Foure double Pistolets.
King.
How!
Bil.
Good ware cannot be too deare: looke vpon the cost,
Relish the sent, note the workemanship.
King.
Your man is too hard, Ile rather deale with you: three
Ile giue you.
Lad.
Come pray take it, will three fetch 'em?
Tor.
Indeed we cannot, it stands my Husband in more.
King.
Well lay these by, a Cordonant for my selfe.
Bil.
The best in Siuell: Lacke you no rich Tuskan Garters, Vetian
ventoyes Madam, I haue maskes most methodicall, and facetious:
assay this gloue sir?
King.
The Leather is too rough.
Bil.
You shall haue a fine smooth skin please your feeling
better, but all our Spanish Dons choose that which is most rough,
for it holds out, sweat you neuer so hard.
King.
The price?
Bil.
The price!
Foure Crownes, I haue excellent Hungarian shag bands Madam
for Ladies, cut out of the same peece that the great Turkes Tolibant
was made of.
King.
The Great Turke be damn'd.
Bil.
Doe you want any French Codpeece points Sir,
King.
Poxe on 'em, they'l not last, th'are burnt i'th dying.
Bil.
If they be blacke they are rotten indeed, sir doe you
want no rich spangled Morisco shoo-strings.
King.
I like this beard-brush, but that the haire's too stiffe.
Bil.
Flexable as you can wish, the very bristles of the same
Swine that are fatten'd in Virginia.
Lad.
What comes all to, before vs?
Bil.
It comes to 4. 5. 6. in all, sixe double Pistolets, and a
Spanish Ducket ouer.
King.
To deare, let's goe.
Madam, worshipfull Don, pray sir offer, if any shop shew
you the like ware.
Lad.
Prithee peace fellow, how d'ee like her?
King.
Rarely, what lure canst thou cast to fetch her off?
Lad.
Leaue that to me, giue me your purse.
Bil.
Doe you heare Madam!
King.
The fatall Ball is cast, and though it fires
All Spaine, burne let it, hot as my desires:
Haue you dispatch'd?
La.
Yes.
Bil.
I assure your worship, my master will be a looser by you.
King.
It may be so, but your Mistris will not say so.
Lad.
Sonne I tell her of the rich imbrodered stuffe at home
for the tops of gloues, and to make mee muffes, if it please the
Gentlewoman to take her man along, shee shall not onely see
them, but certaine stones, which I will haue set onely in one
paire, I can tell you, you may so deale with me, you shall gaine
more then you thinke of.
Bil.
Mistris strike in with her.
Tor.
My Husband is from home, and I want skill
To trade in such Commodities, but my man
Shall wait vpon your Ladiship.
Lad.
Nay, nay, come you,
Your man shall goe along to note my House,
To fetch your Husband, you shall dine with vs.
King.
Faith doe forsooth, you'l not repent your match.
Lad.
Come, come you shall.
Tor.
Ile wait vpon you Madam, Sirrah your cloake.
Bil.
Make vp that ware, looke to th'shop.
Torm.
If your Master come in, request him to stay till your
fellow come for him.
Lad.
Come Mistris, on Sonne, nay, nay indeed you shall not,
My Gloue, one of my gloues lost in your shop.
Torm.
Runne backe sirrah.
Doe wee'll softly afore.
Tor.
Make haste.
Exeunt.
Laz.
A Gloue! I saw none.
Bil.
Nor I, it drop'd from her somewhere else then.
Laz.
I am call'd vp to Dinner Bilbo.
Bil.
Are you, then make fast the shop doore, and play out
your set at Maw, for the Mistris of my Masters alley is trundled
before, and my bowles must rub after.
Laz.
Flye then and a great one.
Exit.
Bil.
She's out a'th Alley, i'th Cranck belike, run, run, run.
Ex.
Enter Lady, Tormiella, and King.
Lad.
Low stooles, pray sit, my man shall fetch the stuffes
And after Dinner you shall haue those stones:
A cup of wine; what drinke you! Loue you bastard!
Ile giue you the best in Spaine.
Tor.
No wines at all.
Lad.
Haue you beene married long?
Torm.
Not long.
Lad.
I thinke your wedding shooes haue not beene oft vnty'd.
Torm.
Some three times.
Lad.
Pretty Soule; No more! indeed
You are the youngest Vine I e're saw planted,
So full of hope for bearing; methinks 'tis pitty
A Citizen should haue so faire a Tree
Grow in his Garden.
Torm.
I thinke him best worthy,
To plucke the fruit, that sets it.
Lad,
Oh you'd h'a shon
At Court like a full Constellation,
Your Eyes are orbes of Starres.
Tor.
Muse my man stayes.
La.
Your man is come, and sent to fetch your Husband,
This banqueting roome with some sweet thing or other:
Your Husband's wonderous kind to you.
Tor.
As the Sunne
To the new married Spring, the Spring to th'Earth.
Lad.
Some children looke most sweetly at their birth,
That after proue hard fauor'd; and so doe Husbands:
Your honey Moones soonest waine and shew sharpe hornes.
Tor.
Mine shall shew none,
Lad.
I doe not wish it should,
Yet be not too much kept vnder, for when you would
You shall not rise.
Tor.
Vmh!
Lad.
I was once as you are,
Young (and perhaps as faire) it was my Fate
Whilst Summer lasted and that beauty rear'd
Her cullors in my cheekes, to serue at Court:
The King of Spaine that then was, ey'd me oft:
Lik't me, and lou'd me, woo'd me, at last won me.
Tor.
'Twas well you were no City.
Lad.
Why?
Tor.
It seemes,
You yeelded e're you needed.
Lad.
Nay, you must thinke,
He ply'd me with fierce batteries and assaults:
You are coy now, but (alas) how could you fight
With a Kings frownes! your womanish appetite
Wer't ne're so dead and cold would soone take fire
At honors, (all women would be lifted higher)
Would you not stoope to take it, and thrust your hand
Deepe as a King's in Treasure, to haue Lords
Feare you, t'haue life or death fly from your words
The first night that I lay in's Princely armes,
Had snatcht mee vp and in his starry spheare.
Plac'd me (with others of his Lemmans there)
Yet was he but the shaddow I the sunne.
In a proud zodiake, I my Course did runne.
Mine eye beames the dyals stile; and had power.
To rule his thoughts, as that Commands the hower.
Oh you shall find vpon a Princes pillow.
Such golden dreames.
Tor.
I find 'em.
Lad.
Cry you mercy.
Tor.
My husband comes not, I dare not stay.
Lad.
You must.
King.
You shall.
Lad.
Before you lyes your way
Beaten out by mee, if you can follow doe.
Tor.
What meanes this, are there bawds Ladies too
King.
Why shake you, feare not, none here threats your life.
Tor.
Shall not a lambe tremble at the butchers knife.
Let goe your hold, keepe off, what violent hands
Soeuer force mee, ne're shall touch woman more,
Ile kill ten Monarches ere Ile bee ones whore.
King.
Heare mee.
Tor.
Avoyd thou diuell.
Lad.
Thou puritan foole.
Tor.
Oh thou base Otter hound, help, help.
King.
In vaine.
Tor.
The best in Spaine shall know this.
Lad.
The best now knowes it.
Tor.
Good pitch let mee not touch thee, Spaine has a King:
If from his royall throne Iustice bee driuen,
I shall find right, at the Kings hands of Heauen.
Lad.
This is the King.
Tor.
The King, alas poore slaue.
King.
Doe you not know me?
Torm.
Yes, for a whore-master.
Lad.
No matter for her scoulding, a womans tongue Is like
the myraculous Bell in Aragon, which rings out without the
helpe of man.
King.
Heare me, thou striu'st with Thunder, yet this hand
That can shake Kingdomes downe, thrusts into thine,
The Scepters, if proud fall, thou let'st them fall
Thou beat'st thy selfe in peeces on a rocke
That shall for euer ruine thee and thine
Thy Husband, and all opposites that dare
With vs to cope, it shall not serue your turne
With your dim eyes to iudge our beames, the light
Of Common fires, We can before thy sight
Shine in full splendor, though it suites vs now
To suffer this base cloud to maske our brow
Be wise, and when thou mayst (for lifting vp
Thine arme) plucke Starres, refuse them not, I sweare
By heauen I will not force thee 'gainst thy blood,
When I send, come: if not, withstand thy good;
Goe, get you home now, this is all, farewell.
Tor.
Oh me! what way to heauen can be through hell.
Exit.
King.
Why diue you so?
Lad.
I hope your Maiesty,
Dare sweare I ha play'd the Pylot cunningly.
Fetching the wind about to make this Pinnace
Strike Sayle as you desir'd.
King.
Th'art a damn'd Bawd:
A soaking, sodden, splay-foot, ill-fac'd Bawd;
Not all the wits of Kingdomes can enact
To saue what by such Gulphes as thou art wrack'd,
Thou horie wickednesse, Diuels dam, do'st thou thinke
Thy poysons rotten breath shall blast our fame,
If thou wouldst downe before thy time, to thy crew,
Prate of this—yes; doe, for gold, any slaue
May gorge himselfe on sweetes, Kings cannot haue
By helpe of such a hag as thou, I would not
Dishonour her for an Empire, from my sight.
La.
Well sir.
King.
Giue o're your Trade.
Lad.
Ile change my Coppy.
King.
See you doe.
Lad.
I will turne ouer a new leafe.
King.
We search for Serpents, but being found destroy the,
Men drinke not poysons, though they oft imploy them.
Exit.
Lad.
Giue o're! how liue then! no, Ile keepe that still
If Courtiers will not, I'me sure Citizens will.
Exit.
Enter Tormiella, and Gazetto.
Gaz.
Speake with you.
Torm.
Ha! good fellow keepe thy way.
Gaz.
Y'are a whore.
Torm.
Th'art a base Knaue, not the streets free!
Exit.
Gaz.
Though dead, from vengeance earth thee shall not saue,
Hyæna like, Ile eate into thy Graue.
Exit.
Enter Cordolente, and Malevento.
Cord.
I dare now bestow on you a free,
And hearty welcome to my poore house:
Mal.
Thankes Sonne:
Good Ayre, very good Ayre, and Sonne I thinke.
You stand well too for trading.
Cord.
Very well sir.
Mal.
I am glad on't.
Enter Lazarillo.
Cord.
Sirrah where's your Mistris?
I, I, good youth call her,
She playes the Tortoyes now, you shall 'twixt her and me,
See a rare Combat; tell her here's her Father,
No, an old swaggering Fencer, dares her at the weapon,
Which women put downe men at, Scoulding! boy
I will so chide her Sonne.
Cord.
Pray doe Sir, goe call her?
Laz.
She's forth Sir with my fellow, a Lady tooke her along.
Mal.
Taken vp already, it's well, yet I commend her
She flyes with birds that are of better wing
Then those she spreads her selfe.
Cord.
Right Sir.
Mal.
Nay she's wise
A subtill Ape, but louing as the Moone, is to the Sea:
Cord.
I hope she'l proue more constant:
Mal.
Then is the needle to the Adamant,
The God of gold powre downe on both your heads
His comfortable showers.
Cord.
Thankes to your wishes.
Mal.
May neuer gall be fill'd into your Cup,
Nor wormewood strew your Pillow; so liue, so loue,
That none may say, a Rauen does kisse a Doue,
I am sorry that I curst you, but the string
Sounds as 'tis play'd on, as 'tis set we sing.
Enter Bilbo.
Cord.
Where's thy Mistresse?
Mal.
Oh—pray Sonne, vse Bilbo Caueare well.
Where's thy Mistresse?
Bil.
She's departed Sir.
Cord.
Departed! whether prithee!
Bil.
It may to a Lord, for a Lady had her away, I came backe
to fetch a Gloue which dropt from the Lady, but before I could
ouertake them, they were all dropt from me; my Mistris is to
me Sir, the needle in the bottle you wot where.
Mal.
Of hay thou mean'st, she'l not be lost I warrant.
Cord.
Here she comes now sir,
Tormiella, call her.
Bil.
What shall I call her?
Exit.
Mal.
Nothing by no meanes
No let her flutter, now she's fast i'th net,
On disobedience, a gracefull shame is set,
Cord.
A strange dead palsie, when a womans tongue
Has not the power to stirre, dumb! call her I say!
Enter Bilbo.
Bil.
Strange newes Sir!
Cord.
What is't?
Bil.
Yonders a Coach full of good faces.
Cord.
That so strange?
Bil.
Yes to alight at our Gate; They are all comming vp as
boldly, as if they were Landlords and came for Rent, see else.
Enter Gentlemen and Gentlewomen.
1. Gent.
The woman of the House sir pray?
Cor.
She's in her Chamber, sirrah shew the way.
Exeunt manet Gentlemen and walke.
Mal.
Doe you know these!
Cord.
Troth not I sir, I'me amaz'd
At this their strange ariuall.
Mal.
By their starcht faces,
Small shancks, and blisted shoo-knobs, they should be Courtiers.
Cord.
Our Spanish Mercers say, th'are the brauest fellowes.
Mal.
For braue men, th'are no lesse i'th Taylors bookes,
Courtiers in Citizens Houses, are Summer fires,
May well be spar'd, and being cleane out are best
They doe the house no good, but helpe consume,
They burne the wood vp, and o're-heat the roome,
Sweetening onely th'ayre a little, that's all,
Hug'em, if they plucke your feathers, come not nigh them.
Cord.
Ile close with them.
Mal.
Doe.
Cord.
Welcome Gentlemen.
Omn.
Thanks.
Cord.
Pray sir what Ladies may these be with my Wife?
1. Gent.
Faith sir if they would cast themselues away vpon
Knights, they may be Knights Ladies, but they are onely
Gentlewomen of an exceeding sweet carriage and fashion, and
'tis so Sir, that your wiues doings being bruited and spread abroad
to be rare for her handling the Spanish needle, these beauties
are come onely to haue your wife pricke out a thing, which
must be done out of hand, that's the whole businesse Sir.
Cord.
In good time Sir,
Mal.
Of Court I pray Sir are you?
2. Gent.
Yes Sir, we follow the Court now and then, as others follow vs.
Cord.
He meanes those they owe money too.
Mal.
Pray Sir what newes at Court?
1. Gent.
Faith Sir the old stale newes, blacke Iackes are fill'd,
and standing Cups emptyed.
Mal.
I see then Iackes are sawcie in euery corner, I haue giuen
it him vnder the list of the eare.
Cord.
'Twas soundly, you see he's strucke dead.
Mal.
Dauncing Baboone!
Enter Tormiella, mask'd, and in other Garments, the Gentlewomen with her, and Gentlemen leading her away.
Torm.
Farewell.
Omn.
To Coach, away.
1. Gent.
The Welch Embassador has a Message to you sir.
2. Gent.
Hee will bee with you shortly, when the Moones
Hornes are i'th full.
Exeunt.
What's that they talke!
Cord.
Nothing but this, they haue giuen it me soundly, I feele
it vnder the lists of both eares, where's my wife!
Enter Bilbo.
Bil.
She's falne sicke sir.
Cord.
The Night-mare rides her.
Mal.
Ha! sicke! how sicke!
Bil.
Of the falling sicknesse; you and my Master haue vs'd
her to runne away, that she has shew'd you another light paire of
heeles, she's gon Sir.
Cord.
Thou lyest.
Bil.
It may be she lyes by this time, but I stand to my words,
I say agen She's gon sir; cast your Cap at her, but she's gon hurried
into a Coach drawne with foure Horses.
Cord.
These her oathes, vowes, protestations, damnations,
a Serpent kist the first woman; and euer since the whole sexe haue
giuen sucke to Adders.
Mvl.
Run into th'Street, and if thou seest the priuiledg'd
Bawdy house she went into,
Bil.
That runs on foure wheeles, the Caroach sir.
Cor.
Cry to the whole City to stop her.
Bil.
I will sir, 'tis euery mans case i'th City, to haue his wife
stop'd.—
Exit.
Mal.
Well; what wilt thou say, if this be a plot,
Of merriment betwixt thy wife and them,
For them to come thus, and disguise her thus,
Thus whorry her away to some by-Towne,
But foure or fiue miles distance from the City,
Then must we hunt on Horsebacke, find our game
See and not know her in this strange disguise,
But the jest smelt out, showts, and plandities
Must ring about the Table where she sits,
Then you kissing her, I must applaud their wits.
Cor.
Well, I will once be gull'd in this your Comedy,
A while Ile play the Wittall, I will winck Sir,
Mal.
What Bird!
Cord.
A wagtaile, after, flye all the rest.
Mal.
Come then.
Exeunt.
| A Tragi-Comedy : Called, Match mee in London | |