Lavv-Trickes or, VVho VVould Have Thovght It | ||
Actus Quartus.
Enter Polymetes Julio, Horatio, Emilia & PagesPol.
Ttristella.
Em.
My Lord?
Pol.
Good wine needes no bush, nor a good face
cost is not vnder a colour.
Em.
I know no other paynter but one, and her name
is modestie, and she sometimes throwes a blush into my
face to make my pale cheeks red, but els you shall neuer
take mee for an Aldermans poast.
Po.
Why an Aldermans poest?
Em.
Marke but where great poasts are newly painted,
you shall see much egresse & regresse in and out,
& where you see a face newly okered, tis a signe ther's
great traffique, & much stirring to and fro.
Po.
Come sit, sit, nay neerer, neerer, neerer yet.
Em.
Then I shall sit vpon your skirts.
Po.
Iulio and Horatio, what shal's haue to supper?
I am now in the spending vayne.
Em.
Then God for mee: what make I so neare?
Po.
Good action, you shall not remooue, I learnt
that phrase of myne vncle, boy, know what Adam
hath bespoken for our palates.
More rare and deere, then that Vitellius made:
It shoulde be seru'd in, but Horatio,
What shal wee eate that's costly, and that's rare?
Ho.
A roated Phœnix were excellent good for that
Lady.
Em.
And why for that Ladye.
Ho.
Fare ech'd and deere bought, is good for
you know who.
Em.
For Ladyes.
Ho.
I for Ladyes.
Em.
Then the most cheape stuffe, and next to hand
is good for you know who.
Ho.
For knaues.
Em.
I for knaues.
Enter the Page and Adam.
Iu.
Adam what haue you ready.
Sir you may haue a Calueshead.
Em.
here's a Gentleman hath one in his hat already,
no more. Calues head I pray thee.
Po.
Hast any Pheasants or Partriges?
Ad.
No, but if your Lord-shipe will haue a dish of
Woodcocks.
Em.
No for God-sake, they are the stalest meate with
me of any, for I neuer sit to meate with these gallants,
but there's Woodcocks cleane through the
table.
Ad.
Then vnlesse you will haue a Dotrell or a
Gull.
Em.
A Gull? why which of these Gent. woot thou
serue in? do you not heare how Adam flouts you?
Ad.
I meane a Sea-gull bakt.
Em.
I in any case lets haue that, I haue fed my wit
on many a land-Gull, once let mee banquet my selfe
of a Sea-gull, some Sea Captain, I lay my life that has
a desire to sup with mee, but such as thou hast, I prithee
be briefe
Po.
Lay the table in the with-drawing roome.
Ad.
I will sir, your honor can haue no Larks Ile assure
you.
Poll.
And why?
Ad.
Two Citizens sonnes and a Poet bought vp all
ith towne, flung away the bodies onely to haue a pye
made of the braines.
Enter Duke Ferneze disguisd.
Emi.
A signe either they lackd braines, or else they
did it because they would beare a braine.
Fer.
Twas tolde me that the young Lord Polymetes
Was entred here.
Po.
He that so tolde thee fellow tolde thee true.
I cry your Lordship mercy, let this letter
Supply th'vnwilling office of my tongue,
And be the sad reporter of my newes.
Poll.
What ominous news can Polimetes daunt?
Haue we not Hyren heere?
Fer.
Ouid not all thy Metamorphosis
Can shew such transformation, oh my God!
It is not possible, (is this my sonne?)
A has mistooke himselfe, my life a has,
For the seauen liberall sciences; a reades,
The seauen blacke deadly sinnes.
Must you needes sonne turne ouer these linnen leaues
hauing such store of paper? this is miraculous.
Pol.
Newes, newes my hearts will make your iocund
soules daunce in your bosomes, now which ioyfull
tongue amongst you all cries first God saue the Duke?
God saue Duke Polymetes.
Iu.
The newes is not so happy.
Po.
Tush looke here.
Fer.
My Lord I'me sorry for your heauinesse.
Po.
Thou shouldst haue said so to a Porter that's
heauy loaden.
How to spend all this countlesse masse of wealth,
My father hath bequeath'd mee at his death,
Quite from the popular and vulgar garbe,
We will be ode in all things, and retaine
No common humor in our large expence.
Fer.
An honorable minde, and were your father
A liue to note these hopefull parts in you,
How would it moue him and surprize his heart?
But now my lord: my message being done,
I must returne i'me glad I haue found your sonne.
Po.
For thy good newes take that along with thee,
(Exit Duke.
Looke here Tris, would not these
Make notable states-mē? methinks state steals vpō me.
And I haue knowne some steale state.
Pol.
Then they came neuer truely by it as I doe, but
pergite porro, methinkes I could make an indifferent
careles Duke.
Iu.
And I could make a notable Courtier, methinks
I am begging alreadie.
Pol.
O myne Vncle would make an Excellent Court
spaniell, he would sent out offices & conceald lands, a
hundred mile of, and a were my casheere but twentie
yeares, I durst change liuings with him.
Emi.
But what imployment for Horatio?
Pol.
O, he would make a good grumbling surly politician,
thou shalt be my politician.
Ho.
I shall neuer be lou'd.
Iu.
Not lou'd, your reason?
Iul.
I hate the base and rascall multitude,
I cannot nod, ride bare-head through the streetes,
Nor wreath my body like a Cable Hat-band
To euerie Pedler and mechannick Townes-man,
I hate the poore, am enuious at the rich,
Loue none.
Pol.
Yes, women.
Hor.
Faith after a sort, I loue a good smooth face.
Em.
Then you loue mine.
Hor.
And fortie more.
Pol.
I muse yoe doe not marrie.
Hor.
I would to night, vpon condition
That I might burie her to morrow, God Boy.
Pol.
Fill him some wine.
Ho.
I cannot drinke, god boy.
Po.
It is not poyson'd.
Hor.
Hum, I cannot tell,
The Countesse drunke and dide.
Po.
Come, come.
Hor.
Farwell.
Pol.
Still in the bogs of Melancholly, pax on't, tis
is growne melancholly, and correctes shoes in humour,
fie ont, come sit, we must talke about many matters,
Riuo, Ile bee singuler, my Royall expence shall
run such a circular course that the Rascall spawne of
Imitators shall split their wooden braines, and sinke
their wealth in the Gulfe of prodigalitie, and yet like a
bad Archers shaft, fall sixescore short of their ayme, my
expence shall be royall and peculiar.
Em.
Ile fashion you a course.
Po.
Diuinely, come.
Em.
Diuinely indeede, serue God, liue honestly rellish
not Atheisme.
Pol.
Thats cleane out of the fashion indeede.
Iul.
Then good.
Pol.
Because out of the fashion, set downe that Adam
Ad.
Tis done.
Iul.
I hau't my Lord, I haue't yfaith.
Po.
Nay quickly, how?
Iul.
Weele keepe no Pages.
Po.
Excellent, that's cleane out of the fashion for Pages,
that's good, that stands, downe with it Adam.
Ad.
Tis done sir.
Iul.
Weele vse no great Horses.
Pol.
How shall we ride then?
Hor.
On Mules and shee Asses.
Em.
Downe with that Adam.
Pol.
But, for my traine, for a Page with Pages.
Em.
Maintaine a hundred Gallants at your heeles,
Liue in the Countrie, entertaine agen
Into the Court, long-banish'd hospitalitie,
Who since the first great hose with Codpeeces grewe
out of fashion neere durst shew his head.
Po.
Another, set it downe, ile spend after fortie pound
a day, ile see which of my cheuerill braind immitators
dares follow my fashion: sblood I cannot drinke Tobacco
sidemen are at it in the Alehouse in sermon time, I cannot
weare a sute halfe a day but the Tailors Iournyman
creepes into't: I cannot keepe a block priuate, but
euery Cittizens sonne thrusts his head into it: I cannot
keepe a wench but euery grand-Iurors sonne in the
Countre imitates me, I care not if I make it petty treason
for any man to kisse vnder ten pound a Kisse.
Ad.
Oh my Lord, twill neuer passe ith the Lowerhouse,
they will not loose their libertie of kissing.
Hor.
Then keepe a leash of Wenches.
Po.
As common as cracking of nuts, not a seruingman,
but doth as much.
Iul.
Fore-god I hau't, peculiar I haue't.
Pol.
What ist Iulio?
Iul.
Your honour shall keepe no wenches at all.
Em.
No wenches? what shall become of me then?
Pol.
I must be round with you Tris, you must pack,
many women they say are common, and ile entertaine
nothing that sauors of Communitie, I wil not diuulge.
Em.
Nay, but hark you my Lord, though you maintaine
me, you doe not lye with me, and I thinke that's
the newer fashion.
Pol.
Fore-god the newest of all, for there's not a
gallant maintaines his wench but a will lye with her,
downe with that Adam.
Ad.
Tis done.
Enter Ioculo the Page.
Ioc.
My Lord my Lord, the Duke your father with
a great traine is comming.
Pol.
From heauen or hell.
Ioc.
That's more then I knowe, but by the faith of a
page, or the worde of a Gent. which you will, hee is ariu'd
and in great state entred the Cittie.
Zounds wheres the slaue that brought the false report
of his death?
Pol.
But art sure tis my father?
Ioc.
Or else your Mother did you the more wrong,
shift for your selues, for he is come.
Pol.
My father aliue and come home, hart a me what
shift? come home & finde the Court turnd Ale-house
Dicing-house, Dauncing schoole, I am vndone horse
and foote.
Em.
Some Rosasolis or Aqua mirabilis ho, for our generall
coward's in a swoune.
Po.
I know you are a hot shot in a feather-bed Tris,
but that will not serue turne now, therefore fall off, the
enemie is too strong, deede Tris, euerie Lambe to his
fold, and Cony to her Borough, for the olde Foxe is abroad
no, wilt not bee? why then God a mercyes
braine.
Cedant arma togæ, my gowne and bookes boy, some
sudden deuise to keepe him back halfe an houre, and
win my good opinion for euer.
Ioc.
And I doe not, let mee die of the bastinadoe.
Exeunt.
Enter Duke Ferneze, Angelo, and other Nobles attendants.
Duke.
Lords, make a stand, I wonder that our Sonne
glads not our wisht arriuall with his presence.
Aug.
No doubt my Lord, his honorable care,
Is not acquainted with your sudden landing.
Duk.
We take it so, and whilst our selfe in person
Enquire the cause, attend vs in the Hall,
Little thinkes he his father is so neere,
But vnexpected, ile goe startle him,
And put his wit vnto the present tryall.
Pag.
where's the Prince?
Io.
my most honor'd Lord?
In priuate conference with an English poast.
Du.
An English poast?
Io.
An English post my Lord: the effect of his letters
I know, not but I heard him begin a most strange discourse.
Du.
Of what I prithee?
Io.
Please your honor take a turne or two, I shall relate
(quickly my Lord) heereports there fell such an
Inundation of waters in the moneth of Iuly, about the
third of dog-dayes, that the Owers and Scullers that
vse to worke in the Thames, rowd ouer houses &
landed their faires in the middle Ile of Paules.
Du.
Ist possible?
Io.
Very easely possible (sfoot quickly) and more
the fishermen that rid betweene Douer and Calis,
tooke red spurlin, and she Mackerell in the midst of
the Exchange, which made mutton so cheepe and
stale, that it is thought the better halfe of the townesmen
will run horne mad about it.
Du.
It cannot be.
Io.
Not be? why looke you sir,
Du.
Nay.
Io.
But heare the conclusion, iust on Saint Lukes day
coming shalbe a twelue-month, Westminster & Winchester,
drinking a quart of wine together on Salisbury-playne
fell into hard words and strange termes,
there was thou knaue and I knaue, and such foule
words, as if tow young Barristers had bene breathing
their wits for a wager, (sfoot make an ende) now it
was thought Westminster stood most vpon his termes,
yet in the end Winchester got one of his best termes
that it grew to a deadly fewd, which was so
hottly pursude that the taking vp of the matter cost
many broken heads.
Du.
How.
Ju.
So sir, (sfoot not done yet?) and had not Charing-crosse
a tall bow legd Gent: taken vp the matter,
tis thought Westminster stones would haue bin too
hot for some of them: and in parting the fray, Charing-crosse
got such a box o'the eare, that hee will
carry it to his deathsday, some say a got a wry neck
by parting the fray, marry Winchester sayes flatly, a
got a creeck in his neck, with looking westward for
Termers.
Du.
Thou shouldst haue tolde me.
Iu.
Of the English poast: why looke you my Lord,
the poast comming in poast-hast to shew his duty to
the Prince, stumbled at a post that lay in his way
and broke his sinister shanck, and so I breake of my
discourse and bid your honor welcome home.
Exits
Du.
What a strange tale is here? of flouds and hills
of Charing-crosse, Termes, and I know not what?
and when I loo'd for the conclusion.
Enter Iulio.
Du.
There is some trick in't, honord Iulio?
Iu.
Health to my Soueraigne.
Du.
How fares our Sonne?
Haue your inducements drawn him from his humor?
Iu.
Faith my Lord I haue done a childes part, and
almost spent a childes part, to draw him to society,
but tis labor lost.
Du.
What is his businesse with the English poast?
Iu.
The English poast my Lord? your grace is
Du.
His boy informd mee a held conference,
Bout serious matters with an English poast.
Iu.
Alas my Lord, the boy is lunatique.
Du.
How lunatique? and a fore god me thought
A tolde a mad discourse, but th'occasion.
Iu.
I tell you my Lord, comming a bruptly as
your honor or any else may do to the Princes chamber,
about some ordinarie seruice, a found him in
his study, and a company of botlnos'd Deuils
dauncing the Irish hay about him, which on the
sudden so startled the poore boy, as a cleane
lost his wittes, and euer since talkes thus idle, as
your Excelence hath heard him
Du.
But tell mee doth my sonne conuerse with
Deuils?
Iu.
As familiarly as you and I, they are his only
company keepers, when a hath bene duld at his
study, I haue knowne a Deuill and hee play at
Ticktack for phillips, by the whole day together.
Du.
Tis passing strange, but may wee without
danger go neere his study?
Iu.
At your honor, spleasure,
Discouer Polymetes in his study.
Iu.
See where a sits, be Patient and obserue.
Po.
preuented still? now by Medusaes snakes,
And black Erinnis euer burning lampe,
If all the skill in pyromantique rules,
Deep Eromancy, or the pretious soule,
Of German'ique spells and Characters
Grauen in the surfase of our mother earth,
Aug.
How his braine sweates in pursuite of learning
Duk.
Oh attend.
Poly.
The fist house is vulgariz'd, the Horoscop or
Angle of the Orient, and his Ascendant betokeneth
beginning of life, Marchandise, marriage and—
Duke.
Lets breake him off.
Iul.
So please your excellence.
Pol.
The second and third house, the third House is
cadent from the Angle of the Orient, and Ascendant
to the Angle Septentrionall; signifying Fathers Sisters
and Daughters absent and lost, Daughters and fathers
lost: here then I finde my demaund, the Maid lost my
Sister, thus then I proportion my figure, there I place
my witnesses, and heere my Iudge, and thus proceede
to the Inuocation.
Iul.
Renowned Prince, Prince Polymetes, zoundes
Prince.
Pol.
Discourteous Iulio, giue my studdie leaue.
Ju.
Hart not a iot, the Duke your father.
Pol.
Ile make my father ioyfull by my toile,
Had not thy folly interrupted me,
My hopes ere this had met their period.
Au.
Your princely father.
Pol.
O torment me not with his remembrance.
Iul.
S'blood hee's safe returnd.
Poly.
O would a were, then should not Genozes Crowne,
For want of strong supportance be prest downe.
Ist not enough, that like a harmeles Prince
Spending my houres in Contemplation,
I let you holde the raines of gouerment.
Vnfit for me, my father hath a deepe
And searching iudgement that can brush and sweepe
Forth of his presence, pray your absence,
Du.
I can but smile to see how Protheus like,
They turne the shape of their discourse & proiect,
Thinking to leade me in an idle maze,
after their folly, well, Ile temporize,
and note the issue, come my Lords let's in,
His humour's grounded, and like subtle fier:
The more supprest, it mounts so much the hier.
Iu.
Why so, this iest came smoothly of and was not
soild in the working
Exeunt.
Po.
That boy is worth his waight in pearle, dist
marke what a tale of a Cock and a Bull, he tolde my
father whilst I made thee and the rest away, by a bill
of Conueyance at his back?
Iu.
And I did simple Knights seruire in perswading
the Duke the boy was lunatique.
Po.
twas admirable, doth not this iest deserue to be
chronicled?
Iu.
No by my troth, yet I must needs say, some as
bad haue bin, for how soeuer our practise passe currant
with your father for the present, our villanyes must
needs break forth, they are so notorious and publique.
Po.
No matter let'am, haue not we brayns? brayns
and they be well mincde are sauce for any meate, let
mine vncle turne Turxe and break forth, let the
whole towne turne cuckold and blow their hornes
in our disgrace, I haue brains, let the Sunne and the
seauen Stars be oppos'd, I haue brayns for that too
my present wit shall giue'am all the lye in their
throates, and mayntayne it at pocket, dagger, and pistoll
when I haue done.
Iu.
A mourner boy? what solemne funerall,
Hath hung that sable liuery on thy back?
Pa.
Her death my Lord that hath cut out the like,
For both your honors, the Countesse is deceast.
Pol.
Then will my vncle be a hauy mourner.
But how the manner of her death?
Pa.
Ile eell your honor that hereafter and giue you
the ground of an admirable ieast.
Pol.
And we play not true moals and worke it out of
the ground, let me dye of the greene-sicknsses.
Iu.
The ground then comes?
Pa.
No Ile tell you that in priuate, the life of a iest
thriues in the first reuealing, it concernes the manner
of your avnts death and a law-trick of your vncle.
Pol.
Come to the solempe rites, and weepe at least
those being ended wele receiue your iest.
Exeunt.
Solemnpe Musique to a funerall song the Horse borne ouer the stage, Duke Lurdo, Polymetes, Angelo, Iulio, Horatio and mouners &c.
Exeunt.
Manet Horatio.
Ho.
What is a man; hart a the Deuill meere fools,
His rich inuention, Machiuilian plots:
Idle illusiue antick phantasies.
Apelles grapes, I had as full a brayne,
Fertile inuention and as forward hopes,
As man could father, or his wit bring forth:
Yet in a minute in bubles age,
The venomd fury of a bitter spleene,
Confounded all, forgetfull that I was,
Women are moulded out of bashfulnesse:
And must be drawne to kindnesse by degrees.
All this I knew.
Enter Count. Lurdo.
Lur.
Neither the Law nor I,
But mum, Law-tricks as closely as I can;
Mine eare shall drinke his meditation.
Hor.
Had she suruiu'd Time—
Lur.
Might haue found vs out,
Good, firme in Law, I am a foole to doubt,
His constant secrecie.
Hor.
But now shee's dead.
Lur.
The deepest wit could not haue bettered,
Our smooth conueyance, but vpright and streight,
Vnknowne, vnseene, ile workē vpon conceit.
Exit
Hor.
Had she bene liuing, golden promises,
The smoothe Atturneys to a Louers tongue
Might haue in time solicited my suite,
Guiftes might haue pleaded, mournefull Elegies,
Told her my passions, had she bene composde
Of steele or flint, nay, made of womens hearts,
The most obdurate mettle, Time and Art,
But she is dead, oh hell! and in her tombe.
My hopes are buried.
Enter count Lurdo againe.
Lur.
My conceited braine,
Hath an odde crotchet call'd me backe againe.
Hor.
To all these bad mis-fortunes should the Count
vse any trickes?
Lur.
Ha? a talkes of trickes,
Of count and tricks, for trickes and count are twinns.
Hor.
Yet I regard not.
Lur.
I am right and streight.
Hor.
Say a complaine?
Lur.
Suppose he tell the Duke he gaue the poison.
Hor.
He contriu'd her death, and cannot wrong me,
Lur.
Fie, I feare him not,
He doth but father, what my braine begot.
Exit.
Ho.
This comfort yet which many want I haue,
To follow my faire fortunes to the graue.
Exit
Lavv-Trickes or, VVho VVould Have Thovght It | ||