 | A Pleasant and VVitty Comedy : Called, A New Tricke to Cheat the Divell |  |
Actus Secundus
Scæne. 1.
Enter Changable, his Wife, and Anne.Chan.
Cross'd at these yeares?
Wi.
Unlesse your wit were gray as wel as your haires;
You grow in yeares, and so you should in wisedome.
Chan.
Taxe my wit? a woman too, to do't?
Wi.
Did you never see a bare face teach a beard?
It is no newes in this so pregnant age.
Chan.
An Age indeed, when smockes must read to britches;
Goe to wife, thou seek'st to make us two that should be one,
Instead of me, th'art wedded to thy will;
I feare we shall repent it.
Wi.
Well, well, man.
Chan.
But I say, ill, ill woman.
Wi.
Why I pray?
Because I seeke the advancement of our house?
Chan.
I would not build so many stories high
On such a weake foundation, lest the Garret
Rear'd on such thin supporters sinke it selfe into the Celler.
Wi.
One of your gravity? I am asham'd, a Justice by
Whom should your providence devise to raise,
If not your owne? will you be twice a Child?
And now, in this your second infancy,
Not take care for your Cradle?
Chan.
Thou art a shrew.
Wi.
Why then I am no sheepe.
Chan.
An angry woman.
Wi.
It should be then your care to see me better pleas'd.
An.
I pray, good mother, nay, sir.
Chan.
Sir me no sirs, I am no Knight nor Church-man,
There is a third, make me not that by breaking of my faith.
Wi.
Thinke what it is to have a great Lord call you
Father in Law, and so your Daughter a great Lady.
Chan.
So; I had rather see her a good Gentlewoman,
Lawfully great in belly and in purse,
Than swell'd with poyson'd Titles; it to me
Appeares no better than a Timpany,
A griefe not easily cur'd.
Wi.
His Lordship will be here, give him good face,
And curteous Language, or Ile make your boord
As loud as a perpetuall Gossips feast,
Or a discourse of Fish-wives; and your Bed
As if you were to lodge in Loth-bury
Where they turne brazen Candlestickes.
Chan.
So, so.
Wi.
So you are like to finde it.
Chan.
Gentle wife, have patience, and be quiet, Ile give way;
I never heare thy tongue in this high Key,
But I still thinke of the Tower Ordnance,
Or of the peale of Chambers, that's still fir'd
When my Lord Major takes Barge, I will doe any thing,
Good wife please thy selfe, and I am contented.
Wi.
Why well then: Might not this time much better
Have bin spent, t'have taught your Daughter rudiments
Of State? her postures, and decorums, fine French Congees,
And quaint out-landish Garbes? one that hath bin
A Courtier in his youth, and brought nought thence?
An.
Looke to the Gate there; me thought I heard one knock.
Wi.
His Lordship sure?
An.
And comes, it seemes, to see my Ladyship;
I feele state come upon me; speake good Mother,
How shall I beare my selfe?
Wi.
Why such at first, as you must be hereafter; like a Lady,
Proud, but not too perverse; Coy, not disdainefull;
Strange, but yet not too straight; like one that would,
Were she well woed, but yet not to be won,
Without some formall Court-ship; had it beene
My case, my wench, when I was yong like thee,
Enter Lord Treatwell.
I could have borne it bravely. See, hee's come,
Husband, your Duty; Girle, your modest blush,
Mixt with a kind of strange, but loving welcome;
Were I as young as once: Your Lordship Sir,
Hath done my House much honour.
Lo.
This the Mistris?
Tre.
Your Mother sir, that must be.
Lo.
I make bold,
And like a rude intruder, presse upon you
Sudden, and unawares.
An.
Is this your Lord?
Lo.
Sir, I desire your more familiar love,
Whom I shall study hereafter to respect
According to your worth and gravity.
Chan.
You crave his love whose service you Command.
An.
I have seene a Thousand private Gentlemen
Both better fac'd and featur'd.
Lo.
Mrs. Anne, for so your name was given me.
An.
Nay kisse better,
Besides, he hath the marke of an ill liver,
He hath not a Nose strong enough.
Wi.
You see sir, what homely entertainement,
And how course our poore House can afford you.
Lo.
Were it base,
But 'tis much better then I yet deserve,
That face alone would make and dignify't;
Nay, Master Treatwell, you may witnesse it,
We doe not trade in secrets.
Both.
At your service.
An.
Mother, a word I pray.
Wi.
What sayes my Child?
An.
Which is his Lord-ship?
Wi.
He that kiss'd you last.
An.
Troth I felt no more honour from his lippes
Than from another man, nay scarce so much;
For Slightall kisses better.
Wi.
Minion, how?
An.
I tell you as I finde; his Lordship? good now
Tell me, in what place of his body lyes it?
If in the face or foot, the Crowne or Toe,
The Body, arme, or legge, the backe, or bosome,
Without him, or within? I see no more
In him than in another Gentleman.
Wi.
Part of it lyes in what he left behind,
Observance, state, retinue, and attendance,
Of which you must partake.
An.
Lord, who'de have thought it?
Would he had sent that part of his Lordship hither,
And stay'd himselfe behind; but where's his honour?
Wi,
Do'st thou not see him there?
An.
Him, but not it.
Wi.
How cast thou foole? his Nobility lyes in his blood,
An.
'Tis that I faine would see.
Wi.
His Blood?
An.
Yes, if his Lordship live in that.
Would you match me to a thing invisible?
Where I bestow my selfe Ile see and feele,
And chuse to my owne liking.
Wi.
Art thou mad?
An.
So you would make me; this is but a man,
And I can find a man to my owne liking and never trouble him.
Wi.
This foolish baggage will crosse all we would compasse.
I am plaine sir;
I have not much to give, yet I would stretch
My utmost, to my poore ability,
To shew my selfe a Father, what she wants
In meanes she hath in Gentry; that my blood
Can witnesse for her: something too besides
Though not sufficient to ennoble her,
Yet still to make her a good Gentlewoman,
And that's all my ambition.
Lo.
And that's all I can demand.
Tre.
His Lordship askes no more.
Chan.
Provided still, all be with her consent,
For Ile force nothing, wer't from a stranger,
Much lesse from my Childe.
Lo.
There's no condition you have yet propos'd
But warrants grant, they are so reasonable.
An.
Till now I had thought, your Lords, and Noble men
Had bin possess'd of many worthier parts,
Where meaner men are scanted; but I see
All's one, or little difference.
Lo.
Mistris Anne, it were superfluous to begin a Suite
Which hath before beene entred; and I know
Made knowne to you ere this; I come not now
For motion, but for answer: All those honours.
Titles, and Dignities conferr'd on me
We likewise doe communicate with you.
Wi.
Which she is ready to accept.
An.
Good mother, 'tis me, not you, whom this affaire concernes:
You gave your owne free answer to my Father,
So give me leave to doe where I affect,
The good or bad is mine; not touches you
That are dispos'd already.
Chan.
My good wench, I doe commend thee for't.
Wi.
Will you still prate?
Chan.
No more wife, I have done.
Wi.
Or I shall but begin. My Lord, proceed.
Lo.
Court Ladies I have often seene and tryed,
Faire Country Damsels, Virgins of choice beauty,
I might have made my choise, but all relinquish'd
To place affection here; what comfort, Lady?
An.
Faith little in that name:
Title my Lord, is a cold Bed-fellow,
And many study stile that marry cares;
Can honour helpe in Child-birth? or Nobility
Us priviledge from throwes?
Lo.
Why no such thing.
An.
What is this honour then?
Lo.
Why Ceremony;
The gift of Princes, and the pride of States,
Regard in the Weale publicke, and imployment,
Respect, and duty.
Wi.
Which from his preheminence
Must by meere consequence redownd to you.
An.
You talke like an old woman, not like one
That should make her first choise, as I must now;
When I am griev'd, can honour cure my heart?
If discontent, can my Nobility
Give ease unto my Corsives? when your Lordship
Is with your Trulls and Concubines abroad,
Where is my loving Husband then at home
To keepe me warme at midnight?
Lo.
I am hee.
An.
Sir, that's the thing I doubt.
Lo.
Why, I intreat you?
An.
You are a man?
Lo.
I am so.
An.
A Lord too?
Lo.
It is confess'd.
An.
Could you not lend your Lordship to a friend,
And keepe the man your selfe?
Lo.
To whom I pray?
An.
To a poore Gentleman, one Master Slightall,
Who, had he but that slight Addition,
I gladly would embrace.
Lo.
You trifle with me.
An.
Therefore to shew me serious, Noble man,
Wi.
That's no answer; Why Nan, why Minion, good your
Lordship, take nought in ill part; a peevish thing,
God wot, that wants a little tutering.
Lo.
Slightall quoth a? if she slight all as she hath slighted me,
Shee'le fright hence all her Suters.
Chan.
This I told you.
Wi.
Still will you prate? wil't please your honour, take
Such cheere as this our suddainenesse affords?
And there's no question but ere dinner's done
This Tempest will blow over.
Lo.
Ile take your kindnesse,
Hee's no good Souldier that at first repulse
Will leave the Breach: belike she's fasting now,
Ile take her in full stomacke.
Wi.
Please you enter?
Attendance for his Lordship.
Exeunt.
Scæn. 2.
Enter Usurer, and Scrivener, with writings.Usu.
'Tis sign'd, seal'd, and delivered?
Scri.
As fast as waxe and witnesse can make good.
Usu.
And to my use?
Scri.
Yes, and as great an use as e're you lent out mony on.
Usu.
Is there no hope he will redeeme't at all?
Scri.
Redeeme this did you say? tush, had he more,
More he would soone send after; why hee's all expence and riot.
Usu.
I shall love expence and riot while I live;
Not in my selfe, I must confesse, but in such prodigalls
By whom we Usurers profit.
Scri.
He spends all.
Usu.
So let him, what he hath;
But this Ile looke to safe as my life.
Scri.
He minds nor cares for nothing.
Usu.
For this he minds not, my care is tooke already.
Scri.
Troth hee's sinking, hee's up to the necke already.
Usu.
May he drowne for him that holds him by the Chin.
Scri.
Alas poore sheepe, each Bramble shares his wooll.
Usu.
What makes he then 'mongst Bryers? this be his comfort,
His flesh will shew the better when hee's shorne,
Hee'le make sale for the Shambles.
Scri.
Oh these Dice, Drabbs, and Drinke?
Vsu.
Excellent sokers, brave pills to purge the purse:
But for my part, I will take no such Physicke.
Scri.
What will you doe, sir?
Vsu.
Marry, first home, and safely locke up these,
Then seeke some other new come to his Lands,
To make like prey on him.
Scri.
I am your Scrivener, and sir, I hope
You'le not forget my paines?
Usu.
Forget thee? no, not whilst thy Parchment lasts:
I doe remember thee by thy shop, thy signe,
Yes, thou hast Labells hanging at thy doore;
Thou writ'st a good faire hand, and hast in Horne,
Sixe severall Seales with sundry strange inscripts
All joyn'd together; thee? not remember thee?
I can call thee by thy name.
Scri.
But sir, my money.
Vsu.
Money from me, thy writings are all paid for,
It came from Slightalls purse.
Scri.
I, but my Brokage?
Vsu.
Brokage indeed hath some dependance still
On Usury, and Usury on that,
Th'are Relatives; one is not called a Son
That hath no Father, and no Father's he
That hath no Son; yet money doth goe hard.
Scri.
Yet let me have my due.
Usu.
Yes, give the Divell that,
For he will have't at length; ha, let me see,
Come, let us once be mad, we'le to the next Taverne,
And there debate the businesse.
Scri.
At your owne charge?
Vsu.
Yes, for this once, not use't.
Scri.
A Gallon sir, betwixt us two?
Vsu.
An Usurers Gallon, that's just halfe a pint,
And come, good Scrivener, write it in Record,
That I am now thus liberall.
Scri.
Sir, I shall.
Exeunt.
Scæn. 3.
Enter Slightall, Roger, and Geffrey.Sl.
You have serv'd me long, what have you got by me?
Gef.
Good Wine, good Victualls, Liveries;
And the countenance of a good Master.
Sl.
And pray what's all this?
Gef.
That's as your worship shall be pleased to call it.
Sl.
Nay, name it you.
Rog.
So please you sir, I shall;
That which I thinke y'are brought to now your selfe,
Or within little of't.
Sl.
And what's that?
Rog.
Nothing.
Sl.
Thy plaines I commend, thee and thy wit,
That canst give nothing name, such is my state;
Yet out of this confused lumpe of nought,
That which no man of sence can say it is,
Or Title by the name of any thing,
Something I have extracted, and reserved
For you, for you my servants; take this Gold.
Gef.
All this sir?
Sl.
Why, all this alas is nothing.
Rog.
What call you something then?
Sl.
To me it is not, for now it is yours,
And may it ever after something prove
To you and your succession, as a Stocke
To thrive and prosper by; I onely was,
But am not now; however be you still,
And may this give you Essence.
Rog.
Pray keepe mine,
Your service sir is all the heritage that I expect from you.
Sl.
Thou never wast one that did seeke to husband my estate,
Which I have vainely wasted; just, and honest,
In all my loose designes did'st counsell well,
That thrift of which I was uncapable,
Employ it to thy owne ends; had it bin more,
Greater had bin thy stocke.
Rog.
Ile keepe it sir, as Steward to your use, but
Alwaies ready to furnish your least wants.
Gef.
And how for mine?
Sl.
Though thou wast ever Pander to my lusts,
And gav'st me Spurres to all my vanities,
Fedd'st on my riots, and my loose excesse,
Encourag'st still to surfeits, prayd'st not for me
But still prey'st on me Geffery; yet, because
Thou once did'st claime dependance on my love,
And did'st me some slight service; still report
Thou had'st a bounteous Master; so farewell both.
Gef.
If this be all, as where no more is left
What more can be expected? this's my portion,
Ile husband't for my selfe; he that gets this,
Or part of this, must have more share in me
Than either man or Master.
Sl.
Adieu good fellowes, report y'have left a cleane
Gentleman, without or meanes, or mony.
Rog.
'Tis my sorrow.
Gef.
And my neglect; so I be stor'd my selfe,
Which hand with him goes forward.
Sl.
A woman; that inconstant Feminine Sex,
Exit Rog. & Geffry.
That changes humours oftner than the Moone
Waynes, or supplyes his Orbe: that moving Creature
Hath beene my quicke subversion:
Had she prov'd firme, for her I had husbanded
All that I now have lavish'd; but too late,
What shall I now doe! travell? who shall furnish me?
What comfort can there be to beg abroad?
Or make my selfe a storme to forraigne Nations,
After I too much have bin toss'd at home?
Ile prove my kindred; kindred he hath none
That hath not in his purse to ranke with them,
My Kindred wasted, as I spent my meanes,
There's no such name for him whom need compells
To such extreames as I am newly falne:
Reliefe from them, such as in Cakes of Ice
To him, whose Nerves and Arteries are shrunke up
By bitter winters fury: then behold,
I here expose me to the fate, and force
Of all disasters threaten me; I am ready
With a pinch'd stomacke, and cold Arctos breath,
With a bare breast, armed with patience
Against the sharpest storme, and thin necessity;
T'encounter with the keene and piercing fangs
Of what want can inflict on my poore Carkesse.
Enter Anne
An.
Let Father frowne, or movingly intreat,
My Mother chide, or threaten menaces,
Raile till her Tongue, that yet was never tyr'd,
Cleave to her Roofe in midd'st of her exclaimes:
Let my spruce Lord cogge in his courtly termes,
And woe me with a thousand vaine protests;
Not all my Fathers hate, my Mothers fury,
Nor all his Alphabet of Stiles and Names,
Could they a Sheep-skin fill, shall me divert
From that which I have vow'd, to seeke him out
And prostrate my first love.
Sl.
The Divell, hee
My mind suggests when all my meanes else faile;
That Bug-beare will supply me.
An.
Have I found thee?
Sl.
I am not yet provided friend, not yet;
Thou tak'st me on a sudden.
An.
Doe you not love me?
Sl.
For a She-divell; but I meant not her,
My businesse lyes with him that's Lord and Captaine
Of all the Fiends and fire-brands; haunt me not,
Thou canst doe me no pleasure.
An.
Sure hee's Mad?
Sl.
There can be no more terrour in his looke
His Visage cannot be so horrible
As my despaire; what should I feare then, ha?
An Usurer may weare Hornes, a Scrivener too,
Should I be more affraide of his then theirs?
I know no reason for't.
An.
Good sir, take comfort.
Sl.
Man can no sooner thinke upon the Divell,
But a woman is at's Elbow; trust me not
I've no affaires with thee.
An.
Leave those vaine thoughts
As Fantasies of a distracted braine;
I come with sorrow, and repentant teares;
To bring you backe your owne.
Sl.
Not possible,
That's all in Hucksters handling, and canst thou
Bring it from thence? why the great Divell himselfe
Can never do't; some is distribued
'Mong Baudes, and Whores; here Panders have a part,
And Cheaters there a share; Tavernes, and Ordinaries:
But the prime part the Usurer hath in's Chest,
I would 'twere in his Belly: and the choise
Of all I had, for which these were reserv'd,
Priz'd by me but as triviall ornaments
T'adorne one Jewell, rated above them,
Higher than gold above the basest drosse,
And that the Lord hath seiz'd.
An.
The Lord? what Lord?
Scri.
Lord of this Soyle; which I will ne're repurchase
After his so base sullying.
An.
Oh, but sir.
Sl.
What sayes my Donna Anne, my Lady Serpent
Armed in her golden scales? What sayes Madona?
An.
That I preferre thy basest poverty
Before all glorious Titles; give me eare,
And Ile redeeme thy former injuries
With ample satisfaction.
Sl.
Heare mee first;
Backe to your Lord, and if you want reparations,
An.
It was my folly,
My appetite too childish novelty,
Of which I now crave pardon.
Sl.
Oh woman, woman,
Thou hast undone me, spent me to my Shirt,
Nay beyond that, even almost to my soule;
For I am circled in with blacke despaire,
And know not how to free me.
An.
I can doe't,
And to that end I come; wants thy soule comfort?
Behold, I bring you comfort: Is your state
Decayed and wasted? see, I offer thee
A second making, all my hopes and fortunes,
I throw on thee; I am possest of nothing
Of which thou art not Lord.
Sl.
Lord? there it goes;
And get thee to him, for in rifling thee
He hath robb'd my braine of sence, my life of meanes,
My soule of solace, and my dayes of rest;
Henceforth Ile be a Mad-man, turne as Savage
As thou to me was't brutish: Ile seeke out
Some fine familiar Divell, and with him
Converse, when I have left mans company;
Ile make my selfe companion with the Night,
And Traffique with her servants like the Owle;
Ile take my Lodging in some hollow Cave,
Till I be growne so out of name and knowledge,
That if I chance but to appeare by day,
Men, Beasts, and Birds shall all stand wondring at me;
As at some progedy, and point at thee
For this my transformation.
An.
Iealousie, oh what a fury art thou?
Sl.
Fury, where? kept it within my bosom I would cherish it,
And hugg't as one that I accounted most:
Lay't in this hand I'de brandish't 'gainst my starres
And dare them to encounter: lodg'd it here,
Within my eyes, I would out-stare the Divell,
An.
That foule fiend,
Why doe you name so oft? oh study better thoughts,
And set him at defiance.
Sl.
Canst not endure his name, yet com'st thy selfe
To tempt me with his Sattin? oh those eyes,
That once appear'd like to those glorious Tapers
That spangle Heaven, shew like blacke funeralls
The Sisters beare, that blast where ere they burne:
Farewell my ruine, my decay and fall,
And what sinister Fate so ere I have.
May thy false pride b'insculpt upon my grave.
Exit.
An.
Curse on that pride, that such a hopefull Gentleman
Should in his prime be lost by that and me;
But who was cause? who first traduc'd me to't?
My Mother, and that Lord; the sin be theirs:
Offend they, and must scape due punishment?
Then let me loose, what womankind best armes,
My use of Tongue; if but this Pipe hold cleare,
Ile make both curse them taught me first to speake,
And wish I from my Cradle had bin dumbe:
My hate to him shall in his charge and cost,
Redeeme the love that I to this have lost.
Exit.
| A Pleasant and VVitty Comedy : Called, A New Tricke to Cheat the Divell | |