 | Amends for Ladies |  |
Actus tertius.
Enter Hvsband and Svbtle.Subt.
Shee's a rare wife beleeue it Sir, were all such,
Wee neuer should haue false inheritors.
Husb.
Pish friend, there is no woman in the world
Can hould out in the end, If youth, shape, wit,
Met in one subiect, doe assault her aptlie,
Another way, the path of womens minds
Are crooked, and diuerse, they haue by-waies
To leade you to the Pallace of their pleasures,
And you must wooe discreetely; first obserue
The disposition of her you attempt,
If shee be sprightly, and heroicall,
Possesse her that you are valiant, and haue spirit,
Talke nothing but of beating euery man
That is your hinderance, though you doe not doe it,
Or dare not, t'is no matter. Be shee free
And of a liberall soule, giue bounteously
To all the seruants, let your angels flye
About the roome, although you borrow'd 'em.
If shee be wittie, so must your discourse
Get wit, what shift so 'ere you make for it,
Though't cost you all your land, and then a song
Or two is not amisse, although you buy 'em,
There's many in the Towne will furnish you.
Subt.
But still I tell you, you must vse her roughly,
Beate her face black and blew, take all her cloth's
And giue them to some Punke, this will be ground
For me to worke vpon.
Husb.
All this I haue done.
I haue left her now, as bare, that should I die,
Her fortune (ô my conscience) would be
To marrie some Tobacco-man, shee has nothing
But an old black-woorke wastcote, which would serue
Exceeding wel to fit i'th shop and light
Pipes for the lowzie Footmen (and sweete friend)
First heere's a jewell to present her, then
Heere is a Sonnet writ against my selfe,
Which as thine owne thou shalt accost her with,
Farewell and happie successe attend thee.
Exit.
Subt.
Ha, ha, ha.
[he reads.
Fairest, still wilt thou be true
To a man so false to thee?
Did he lend a Husbands due,
But will curses, wants and blowes
Breed no change in thy white soule?
Be not a foole to thy first vowes,
Since his breach, doth thy faith controle,
No beautie else, could be so chast,
Thinke not thou honour'st women then,
Since by thy conscience, all disgrac't,
Are rob'd of the deare loues of men;
Then grant me my desire that vow to proue
A reall husband, his adulterate loue.
Tooke euer man more paines to be a Cuckold?
Oh! monstrous age where men themselues we see,
Studie and pay for their owne infamie.
Exit.
Enter Ingen, Maid, Provdly, Brother like a woman, swords drawen.
Proud.
Giue me my sister, Ile haue her forth thy heart.
Ing.
No earthly Lord can pull her out of that,
Till he haue pluckt my heart first out, my Lord
Wer't not inhospitable, I could wrong you heere
In mine owne house, I am so full of woe,
For your lost sister, that by all my ioyes
Hop't for in her, my heart weepes teares of bloud,
A whiter virgine, and a worthier,
Had ne're creation: Lœda's Swan was black
To her virginitie, and immaculate thoughts.
Proud.
Where hast thou hid her? giue her me againe,
For by the God of vengeance, be she lost,
The female hate shall spring betwixt our names,
Shall neuer die, while one of either house
Suruiues, our children shall at seuen yeares olde
Strike kniues in one another.
Ing.
Let Hell gape
And take me quick, if I know where she is,
But am so charg'd with sorrow for her losse,
Being the cause of it (as no doubt I am)
That I had rather fal vpon my sword
[Offering to kill himselfe
Then breath a minute longer.
Broth.
Oh sir! hold.
Thou shalt not neede, I haue a sword to bathe
In thy false blood, inhumane murderer.
Maid.
Good Sir be pacified, i'le goe, i'le run
Many a mile to finde your sister out;
Shee neuer was so desperate of grace,
By violence to rob her selfe of life,
And so her soule in danger; comfort Sir,
Shee's but retir'd somewhere on my life.
Ing.
Preethee let me alone—
[To his Brother.
Doe I stand to defend that wretched life
That is in doubt of hers, heere worthy Lord,
Behold a breast, fram'd of thy sisters loue,
Hew it, for thou shalt strike but on a stock,
Since she is gone that was the cause it liu'd.
Proud.
Out false dissembler, art not married?
Ing.
No, behold, it is my yonger brother drest,
Plucks off his headtire
A man, no woman, that hath guld the world,
Intended for a happier euent
Than this that follow'd, that she now is gone,
Oh fond experiments of simple man,
Foole to thy fate, since all thy project men't
But mirth, is now conuerted vnto death.
Maid.
Oh doe not burst me joy, that modestie
aside.
Would let me show my selfe to finish all.
Proud.
Nay, then thou hast my sister somewhere villain,
T'is plaine now, thou wilt steale thy marriage,
Shee is no match for thee, assure thy selfe.
If all the law in England, or my friends
Can crosse it, t'shall not be.
Ing.
Would t'were so well,
And that I knew the Ladie to be safe.
Giue me no ill words; Sir, this Boy and I
Will wander like two Pilgrimes, till we finde her:
If you doe loue her as you talke, doe so:
The loue or griefe that is exprest in words,
Is sleight and easie, t'is but shallow woe
That makes a noise, deep'st waters stillest goe;
I loue her better then thy parents did,
Proud.
Slaue, thou liest.
Ing.
Z'oones.
[about to strike
Broth.
Kill him.
Maid.
Oh hold; Sir, you dishonour much your brother,
To counsaile him 'gainst hospitalitie,
To strike in his owne house.
Ing.
You, Lord insolent, I will sight with you,
Take this, as a challenge, and set your time.
Proud.
To morrow morning Ingen,
T'is that I couet, and prouoke thee for.
Bro.
Wil you not strike him now?
Ing.
No, my good Boy
Is both discreete and just in his aduise.
Thy glories are to last but for a day;
Giue me thy hand, to morrow morning thou shalt be no Lo.
Proud.
To morrow noone, thou shalt not be at all.
Ing.
Pish, why should you thinke so, haue not I armes,
A soule as bold as yours, a sword as true:
I doe not thinke your Honor in the field
Without your Lordships liueries will haue oddes.
Pr.
Farewell, and lets haue no excuses, pray.
Exit. Pr.
Ing.
I warrant you, pray say your prayers to night,
And bring no ink-horne w'ee, to set your hand to
A satisfactorie recantation.
Exit.
Maid.
Oh wretched Maid, whose sword can I pray for?
But by the others losse, I must find death,
Oh odious brother, if he kill my loue:
Oh bloodie Loue, if he should kill my brother;
Dispaire on both sides of my discontent,
Tel's me no safetie rests but to preuent.
Exit.
Enter Widdovv and Bovld like Princox.
Wid.
What's a clock Princox?
Bould.
Bed-time an't please you Madame.
Wid.
Come, vndresse me, would God had made me a man.
Bould.
Why, Madame?
Wid.
Because I would haue beene in bed as soone as they,
wee are so long vnpinning and vnlacing.
Bou.
Yet many of vs Madame are quickly vndone sometime,
but heerein we haue the aduantage of men, though
they are a bed e're they can get vp.
Wid.
Indeed if they be well laid Princox, one cannot get
them vp againe in hast.
Bould.
Oh God Madame, how meane you that, I hope
you know, ill things taken into a Gentlewomans eares, are
the quick corrupters of maiden modestie, I would be loath
to continue in any seruice vnfit for my virgin estate, or where
the world should take any notice of light behauiour in the
Ladie I follow: for Madame, the maine point of chastitie in
a Ladie, is to build the rock of a good opinion amongst the
people by circumstances, and a faire shew she must make, Si,
von caste, tamen caute Madame, and though wit be a wanton
Madame: yet I beseech your Lady-ship for your owne credit
and mine, let the bridle of judgement be alwaies in the
chaps of it to giue it head, or restraine it, according as time
and place shall be conuenient.
Wid.
Precise and learned Princox, dost not thou goe to
Black-fryers.
Bould.
Most frequently Madame, vnworthy vessell that
I am to partake or retaine any of the delicious dew, that is
there distilled.
Wid.
But why shouldst thou aske me what I meant e'ne
now, I tell thee there's nothing vtter'd that carries a double
sence, one good, one bad, but if the hearer applie it to the
worst, the fault lies in his or her corrupt vnderstanding, not
in the speaker, for to answere your lattine: prauis omnia praua,
beleiue me wench, if ill come into my fancie, I will purge
it by speech, the lesse will remaine within: a pox of these
nise mouth'd creatures, I haue seen a norrow paire of lips vtter
as broad a taile, as can be bought for money; Indeed an
ill tale vnutter'd, is like a maggot in a nut, it spoiles the
whitest kernell.
Bould.
You speake most intellegently Madame.
Wid.
Ha'st not done yet? thou art an old fumbler I perceiue:
me thinkes thou doest not do things like a woman.
Bould.
Madame, I doe my endeauour, and the best can
doe no more, they that could doe better, it may be would
to your Lady-ship, I protest sincerely, I would beg my bread,
therefore I beseech you Madame to hold me excus'd, and
let my good will stand for the action.
Wid.
Let thy good will stand for the action? If good will
would doe it, there's many a Ladie in this Land would be
content with her old Lord, and thou canst not be a burthen
to me, without thou lie vpon me, and that were preposterous
in thy sexe; take no exceptions at what I say, remember you
said stand e'ne-now, there was a word for one of your coate
indeede.
Bould.
I sweare Madame, you are verie merrie, God send
you good luck, ha's your Ladyship no waters, that you vse at
bed-time?
Wid.
No introth, Princox.
Bould.
No Complexion?
Wid.
None but mine own I sweare, did'st thou euer vse any?
Bould.
No indeede Madame: now and then a peece of
scarlet, or so; a little white and red Cerusse; but in troth Madame,
I haue an excellent receipt for a night masque, as euer
you heard.
Wid.
What is it?
Bould.
Bores grease one ounce, Iordane Almouds blanch't
and ground a quarterne, red Rose-water, halfe a pint,
Mares vrine, newly couer'd, halfe a score drops.
Wid.
Fough, no more of thy medicine, if thou lou'st me,
few of our Knights errant, when they meete a faire Ladie
arrant, in a morning, would thinke her face had lien so plaster'd
all night: thou hast had some Apothecarie to thy sweet
heart: but leauing this face physick, for (by my troth) it may
make others haue good ones; but it makes me make a scuruie
one. Which of all the Gallants in the Towne would'st
thou make a husband of, if thou might'st haue him for thy
chusing?
Bould.
In troth Madame, but you'll say I speake blindly,
but let my loue stand a side.
Wid.
I think it not fit indeede your loue should stand in the
middle.
Boul.
I say Master Bould; oh, do but marke him Madame,
Wid.
Out vpon thee Princox; no, me thinkes Wel-tri'ds a
handsome fellow, I like not these starch't Gallants: masculine
faces, and masculine gestures please me best.
Bould.
How like you Master Pert?
Wid.
Fie vpon him, when he is in his skarlet clothes, he
lookes like a man of waxe, and I had as leue haue a dogge a
waxe, I do not thinke but he lies in a case a nights, he walkes
as if he were made of gyns, as if nature had wrought him in
a frame, I haue seene him sit discontented a whole play, because
one of the purles of his band was fallen (out of his
reach) to order againe.
Bould.
Why? Bould Madame is cleane contrarie.
Wid.
I but that's as ill, each extreame, is a like vitious; his
carefull carelesnesse is his studie, he spends as much time to
make himselfe slouenly, as the other to be spruse, his garters
hang euer on the calues of his legs, his dublet vnbutton'd,
and his points vntrust, his haire in's eyes like a drunkard, and
his hat worne on his hinder part of his head, as if he car'd
more for his memorie, than his wit: makes him looke as if he
were distracted; Princox, I would haue you lie with me, I
doe not loue to lie alone.
Bould.
With all my heart Madame.
Wid.
Are you cleane skind?
Bould.
Cleane skind Madame? there's a question, do you
thinke I haue the itch? I am an English-woman, I protest, I
scorne the motion.
Wid.
Nay prithee Princox be not angrie, it's a signe of honestie
I can tell you.
Bould.
Faith Madam I thinke ti's but simple honestie that
dwels at the signe of the scab.
Wid.
Well, well, come to bed, and wee'le talke further of
all these matters.
Exit.
Bould.
Fortune, I thanke thee, I will owe thee eies.
For this good turne, now is shee mine indeede,
Thou hast giuen me that successe my project hop'd
Of, false disguise that hast beene true to me,
And now be Bould, that thou mai'st welcome be.
Exit.
Tear.
Dam-me, we will haue more wine, sirrha, or wee'l
downe into the Seller, and drowne thee in a Butt of Malmesey,
and hew all the Hogs-heads in peeces.
Whoore.
Hang him rogue, shall he die as honorably as the
Duke of Clarence; by this flesh lets haue wine, or I will cut
thy head off, haue it rosted and eaten in Pie-corner next
Bartholmew-tide.
Draw.
Gentlemen, I beseech you consider where you
are, Turne-bole streete, a ciuill place, do not disturbe a number
a poore Gentlewomen, Master Whoore-band, Ma: Bots,
Ma: Teare-chops, and Ma: Spill-bloud, the Watch are abroad.
Spilb.
The Watch? why you rogue, are not we Kings of
Turne-bole?
Draw.
Yes marrie are yee, Sir, for my part, if you'l be
quiet, ile haue a signe made of yee, and it shall be cal'd the
foure Kings of Turne-bole.
Bots.
Will you fetch vs wine?
Whoore.
And a whoore (sirrah)
Draw.
Why what d'ee thinke of me, am I an Infidell, a
Turke, a Pagan, a Sarazin, I haue beene at Besse Turnups,
and she sweares all the Gentlewomen went to see a Play at
the Fortune, and are not come in yet, and she beleeues they
sup with the Players.
Tear.
Dam-me, we must kill all those rogues, we shall neuer
keepe a whore honest for them.
Bots.
Goe your waies, sirrha, wee'l haue but a gallon a
peice, and an ounce of Tobacco.
Draw.
I bessech you, let it be but pottles.
Spilb.
S'hart you rogue?
Exit. Draw.
Enter Wel-tri'd and Fee-simple.
Whoore.
Master Well-tri'd, welcome as my soule.
Enter Dravver with Wine, Plate, and Tobacco.
Bots.
Noble Lad, how do'st thou?
Spilb.
As welcome, as the Tobacco and the Wine Boy.
Tear.
Dam-me thou art.
Blesse mee (saue you Gent.) They haue not one
face among 'em. I could wish my selfe well from them, I
would I had put out something vpon my returne, I had as
leue be at the Barmuthoes.
Welt.
Pray welcome this Gentleman.
Spilb.
Is he valiant?
Welt.
Faith hee's a little faulty that way: somewhat of a
bashfull and backward nature, yet I haue brought him
amongst you, because he hath a great desire to be flesh'd.
Fees.
Yes faith Sir, I haue a great desire to be flesh'd:
now M
r. Well-tri'd said, hee would bring mee to the onely
flesh-mongers in the towne.
Welt.
Sir, he cannot endure the sight of steele.
Whor.
Not steele? zoones.
Claps his Sword ore the Table.
Fees.
Now I am going.
Bot.
Here's to you sir, i'le fetch you again with a cup of sack.
Fees.
I pledge you sir, and begin to you in a cup of Claret:
Wellt.
Harke you my Lo: what will you say, if I make you
beate all these out of the roome?
Fees.
What will I say? why I say it is impossible, ti's not in
mortall man.
Welt.
Well drinke apace, if any braue you, out braue him,
Ile second you, they are a Companie of cowards beleeue me.
Feesi.
By this light I would they were els, if I thought so, I
would be vpon the Iack of one of 'em instantly, that same
litle Damme. But M
r. Wel-tri'd, if they be not verie valiant
or dare not fight, how come they by such Cuts and gashes,
and such broken faces?
Wel.
Why their whores strike 'em with Cans, and glasses,
and quart pots, if they haue nothing by 'em, they strike
'em with the Poxe, and you know that will lay ones nose as
flat as a basket hilt Dagger.
Fee.
Well let me alone.
Tear.
This bullie dares not drink.
Fee.
Dare I not Sir.
Welt.
Well said, speake to him man.
Fee.
You had best trie me Sir.
Spilb.
Wee foure will drinke foure healths to foure of the
seauen deadly sins, Pride, Drunkennesse, wrath & Lecherie.
Fee.
I'le pledge 'em, and I thanke you, I know 'em all,
heeres one.
Which of the sinnes?
Fee.
By my troth e'ne to Pride.
Wel.
Why well said, and in this doe not you only pledge
your Mistris health, but all the womens in the world.
Fee.
So now, this little Cup to Wrath, because he and I
are strangers.
Tear.
Braue boy, Dam mee he shall be a Rorer.
Fee.
Dam mee, I will be a rorer, or't shall cost me a fall.
Botts.
The next place that falls, pray let him haue it.
Fee.
Well, I haue two of my healths to drinke yet, Lecherie
and Drunkennesse which en'e shall goe together.
Welt.
Why how now my Lord, a Morralist?
Botts.
Dame mee, art thou a Lo: what vertues hast thou?
Fee.
Vertues? enough to keepe ere a Dam mee Company
in England, me thinkes you should thinke it vertue enough
to be a Lord.
Whore.
Will not you pledg these healths Master Weltride?
wee'le haue no obseruers.
Welt.
Why, Mounser Whore-bang? I am no play maker,
and for pledging your healths, I loue none of the foure,
you drank to so well.
Spilb.
Zoones you shall pledge me this.
Welt.
Shall I?
Fee.
Whats the matter, do'st heare Maister Wel-trid, vse
thine owne discretion, if thou wilt not pledge him, say so?
and let me see, if er'e a Dam mee of 'em all, will force thee.
Spilb.
Puffe, will your Lordship take anie Tobacco? you
Lord, with the white face?
Botts.
Heart he cannot put it through his nose.
Fee.
Faith you haue neare a nose to put it through, dee heart
blow your face sirra.
Tear.
Youle pledge me Sir?
Welt.
Indeede I will not.
Tear.
Dam mee hee shall not then.
Tear, Lord, vse your owne words, Dam mee is mine,
I am knowne by it all the towne o're, d'ee heare?
Fee.
It is as free for mee as you, d'ee here Patch?
Tear.
I haue paid more for't.
Welt.
Nay Ile beare him witnesse in a truth, his soule lies
fort my Lord.
Spilb.
Wel-tri'd, you are growne proud since you got
Strikes, & they scuffle.
Whoore.
I haue knowne you lowzie, Wel-trid,
Welt.
Rorer you lie.
Draw and fight, throw pots and stooles.
Dr.
Oh Iesu.
All Sw.
Zoones cleaue or be cleft: pell mell, slash armes
and legges.
Fee.
Hart let me alone with 'em.
Breake off.
Welt.
Why now thou art a worthy wight, indeed a Lord
a Lorne.
Fee.
I am a mad man, looke is not that one of their heads?
Welt.
Fie no my Lord.
Fee.
Dam me but tis, I would not wish you to crosse me
a purpose, if you haue anie thing to say to me, so, I am readie.
Welt.
Oh braue Lord, manie a rorer thus is made by wine:
come it is one of their heads my Lord.
Fee.
Why so then, I will haue my humour, if you loue me,
let's goe breake windowes somewhere.
Welt.
Drawer, take your plate, for the reckoning there's
some of their cloakes: I will be no shot-log to such.
Draw.
Gods blessing o'your heart, for thus ridding the
house of them.
Exeunt.
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