University of Virginia Library

Scene IV.

Fitz-dottrel. Mistresse Fitz-dottrell. Pvg. to them.
[Man.]
Your seruant, Madame!

VVit.
How now? Friend? offended,
Wittipol whispers with Manly.
That I haue found your haunt here?

Man.
No, but wondring
At your strange fashion'd venture, hither.

VVit.
It is
To shew you what they are, you so pursue.

Man.
I thinke 'twill proue a med'cine against marriage;
To know their manners.

VVit.
Stay, and profit then.

Mer.
The Lady, Madame, whose Prince has brought her, here,
To be instructed.

VVit.
Please you sit with vs, Lady.

Hee presents Mistresse Fitz-dottrel.
Mer.
That's Lady-President.

Fit.
A goodly woman!
I cannot see the ring, though.

Mer.
Sir, she has it.

Tay.
But, Madame, these are very feeble reasons!

Wit.
So I vrg'd Madame, that the new complexion,
Now to come forth, in name o' your Ladiship's fucus,
Had no ingredient—

Tay.
But I durst eate, I assure you.

Wit.
So do they, in Spaine.

Tay.
Sweet Madam be so liberall,
To giue vs some o' your Spanish Fucuses!

VVit.
They are infinit Madame.

Tay.
So I heare, they haue
VVater of Gourdes, of Radish, the white Beanes,
Flowers of Glasse, of Thistles, Rose-marine.
Raw Honey, Mustard-seed, and Bread dough-bak'd,
The crums o'bread, Goats-milke, and whites of Egges,
Campheere, and Lilly-roots, the fat of Swannes,
Marrow of Veale, white Pidgeons, and pine-kernells,
The seedes of Nettles, perse'line, and hares gall.
Limons, thin-skind—

Eit.
How, her Ladiship has studied
Al excellent things!

VVit.
But ordinary, Madame.
No, the true rarities, are th'Aluagada,
And Argentata of Queene Isabella!

Tay.
I, what are their ingredients, gentle Madame?

Wit.
Your Allum Scagliola, or Pol-dipedra;
And Zuccarino; Turpentine of Abezzo.
VVash'd in nine waters: Soda di leuante,
Or your Ferne ashes; Beniamin di gotta;
Grasso di serpe; Porcelletto marino;
Oyles of Lentisco; Zucche Mugia; make
The admirable Vernish for the face,
Giues the right luster; but two drops rub'd on
VVith a piece of scarlet, makes a Lady of sixty
Looke at sixteen. But, aboue all, the water
Of the white Hen, of the Lady Estifanias!

Tay.
O, I, that same, good Madame, I haue heard of:
How is it done?

VVit.
Madame, you take your Hen,
Plume it, and skin it, cleanse it o'the inwards:
Then chop it, bones and all: adde to foure ounces
Of Carrnuacins, Pipitas, Sope of Cyprus,
Make the decoction, streine it. Then distill it,
And keepe it in your galley-pot well, glidder'd:
Three drops preserues from wrinkles, warts, spots, moles,
Blemish, or Sun-burnings, and keepes the skin
In decimo sexto, euer bright, and smooth,
As any looking-glasse; and indeed, is call'd
The Virgins milke for the face, Oglio reale;
A Ceruse, neyther cold or heat, will hurt;
And mixt with oyle of myrrhe, and the red Gilli flower
Call'd Cataputia; and flowers of Rouistico;
Makes the best muta, or dye of the whole world.

Tay.
Deare Madame, will you let vs be familiar?

Wit.
Your Ladiships seruant.

Mer.
How do you like her.

Fit.
Admirable!
Hee is iealous about his ring, and Mere-craft deliuers it.
But, yet, I cannot see the ring.

Pvg.
Sir.

Mer.
I must
Deliuer it, or marre all. This foole's so iealous.
Madame—Sir, weare this ring, and pray you take knowledge,
'Twas sent you by his wife. And giue her thanks,
Doe not you dwindle, Sir, beare vp.

Pvg.
I thanke you, Sir,

Tay.
But for the manner of Spaine! Sweet, Madame, let vs
Be bold, now we are in: Are all the Ladies,
There, i'the fashion?

VVit.
None but Grandee's, Madame,
O' the clasp'd traine, which may be worne at length, too,
Or thus, vpon my arme.

Tay.
And doe they weare
Cioppino's all?

VVit.
If they be drest in punto, Madame.

Eit.
Guilt as those are? madame?

Wit.
Of Goldsmiths work, madame;
And set with diamants: and their Spanish pumps
Of perfum'd leather.

Tai.
I should thinke it hard
To go in 'hem madame.

Wit.
At the first, it is, madame.

Tai.
Do you neuer fall in'hem?

Wit.
Neuer.

Ei.
I sweare, I should
Six times an houre.

Wit.
But you haue men at hand, still,
To helpe you, if you fall?

Eit.
Onely one, madame,
The Guardo-duennas, such a little old man,
As this.

Eit.
Alas! hee can doe nothing! this!

Wit.
I'll tell you, madame, I saw i'the Court of Spaine once,
A Lady fall i'the Kings sight, along.
And there shee lay, flat spred, as an Vmbrella,
Her hoope here crack'd; no man durst reach a hand
To helpe her, till the Guarda-duenn'as came,
VVho is the person onel'allow'd to touch
A Lady there: and he but by this finger.

Eit.
Ha' they no seruants, madame, there? nor friends?

Wit.
An Escudero, or so madame, that wayts
Vpon 'hem in another Coach, at distance,
And when they walke, or daunce, holds by a hand-kercher,
Neuer presumes to touch 'hem.

Eit.
This's sciruy!
And a forc'd grauity! I doe not like it.
I like our owne much better.

Tay.
'Tis more French,
And Courtly ours.

Eit.
And tasts more liberty.
VVe may haue our doozen of visiters, at once,
Make loue t'vs.

Tay.
And before our husbands?

Eit.
Husband?
As I am honest, Tayle-bush I doe thinke
If no body should loue mee, but my poore husband,
I should e'n hang my selfe.

Tay.
Fortune forbid, wench:
So faire a necke should haue so foule a neck-lace,

Eit.
'Tis true, as I am handsome!

Wit.
I receiu'd, Lady,
A token from you, which I would not bee
Rude to refuse, being your first remembrance.

Fit.
(O, I am satisfied now!

Mer.
Do you see it, Sir.)

Wit.
But since you come, to know me, neerer, Lady,
I'll begge the honour, you will weare it for mee,
Wittipol giues it Mistresse Fitz-dottrel. Mere-craft murmures, He is satisfied, now he sees it.
It must be so.

Mrs. Fit.
Sure I haue heard this tongue.

Mer.
What do you meane, Sr?

Wit.
Would you ha'me mercenary?
We'll recompence it anon, in somewhat else,

Fit.
I doe not loue to be gull'd, though in a toy.
VVife, doe you heare? yo' are come into the Schole, wife,
VVhere you may learne, I doe perceiue it, any thing!
How to be fine, or faire, or great, or proud,
Or what you will, indeed, wife; heere 'tis taught.
And I am glad on't, that you may not say,
Another day, when honours come vpon you,
You wanted meanes. I ha' done my parts: beene,
He vpbraids her, with his Bill of costs.
To day, at fifty pound charge, first, for a ring,
To get you entred. Then left my new Play,
To wait vpon you, here, to see't confirm'd.
That I may say, both to mine owne eyes, and eares,
Senses, you are my witnesse, sha' hath inioy'd
All helps that could be had, for loue, or money.—

Mrs. Fit.
To make a foole of her.

Fit.
Wife, that's your malice,
The wickednesse o' you nature to interpret
Your husbands kindnesse thus. But I'll not leaue;
Still to doe good, for your deprau'd affections:
Intend it. Bend this stubborne will; be great.

Tay.
Good Madame, whom do they vse in messages?

Wi.
They cōmonly vse their slaues, Madame.

Tai.
And do's your Ladiship.
Thinke that so good, Madame?

Wit.
no, indeed, Madame; I,
Therein preferre the fashion of England farre,
Of your young delicate Page, or discreet Vsher,

Fit.
And I goe with your Ladiship, in opinion,
Directly for your Gentleman-vsher,
There's not a finer Officer goes on ground.

Wit.
If hee be made and broken to his place, once.

Fit.
Nay, so I presuppose him.

Wit.
And they are fitter
Managers too, Sir, but I would haue 'hem call'd
Our Escudero's.

Fit.
Good.

Wit.
Say, I should send
To your Ladiship, who (I presume) has gather'd
All the deare secrets, to know how to make
Pastillos of the Dutchesse of Braganza,
Coquettas, Almoiauana's, Mantecada's,
Alcoreas, Mustaccioli; or say it were
The Peladore of Isabella, or balls
Against the itch, or aqua nanfa, or oyle
Of Iessamine for gloues, of the Marquesse Muja;
Or for the head, and hayre: why, these are offices

Fit.
Fit for a gentleman, not a slaue. They onely
Might aske for your piueti, Spanish-cole,
To burne, and sweeten a roome: but the Arcana
Of Ladies Cabinets—

Fit.
Should be else-where trusted.
He enters himselfe with the Ladie's
Yo'are much about the truth. Sweet honoured Ladies,
Let mee fall in wi'you. I'ha' my female wit,
As well as my male. And I doe know what sutes
A Lady of spirit, or a woman of fashion!

Wit.
And you would haue your wife such.

Fit.
Yes, Madame, aërie,
Light; not to plaine dishonesty, I meane:
But, somewhat o'this side.

Wit.
I take you, Sir.
H'has reason Ladies. I'll not giue this rush
For any Lady, that cannot be honest
Within a thred.

Tay.
Yes, Madame, and yet venter
As far for th'other, in her Fame—

Wit.
As can be;
Coach it to' Pimlico; daunce the Saraband;
Heare, and talke bawdy; laugh as loud, as a larum;
Squeake, spring, do any thing.

Eit.
In young company, Madame.

Tay.
Or afore gallants. If they be braue, or Lords,
A woman is ingag'd.

Fit.
I say so, Ladies,
It is ciuility to deny vs nothing.

Pvg.
You talke of a Vniuersity! why, Hell is
The Diuell admire thim.
A Grammar-schoole to this!

Eit.
But then,
Shee must not lose a looke on stuffes, or cloth, Madame.

Tay.
Nor no course fellow.

Wit.
She must be guided, Madame
By the clothes he weares, and company he is in;
Whom to salute, how farre—

Fit.
I ha' told her this.
And how that bawdry too, vpo' the point,
Is (in it selfe) as ciuill a discourse—

Wit.
As any other affayre of flesh, what euer.

Fit.
But shee will ne'r be capable, shee is not
So much as comming, Madame; I know not how
She loses all her opportunities
With hoping to be forc'd. I'haue entertain'd
A gentleman, a younger brother, here,
He shews his Pug.
Whom I would faine breed vp, her Escudero,
Against some expectation's that I haue,
And she'll not countenance him.

Wit.
What's his name?

Fit.
Diuel, o' Darbi-shire.

Eit.
Blesse vs from him!

Tay.
Diuell?
Call him De-uile, sweet Madame.

Mrs. Fi.
What you please, Ladies.

Tay.
De-uile's a prettier name!

Eit.
And sounds, me thinks,
As it came in with the Conquerour—

Man.
Ouer smocks!
What things they are? That nature should be at leasure
Euer to make 'hem! my woing is at an end.

Manly goes out with indignation.
Wit.
What can he do?

Eit.
Let's heare him.

Tay.
Can he manage?

Fit.
Please you to try him, Ladies. Stand forth, Diuell.

Pvg.
Was all this but the preface to my torment?

Fit.
Come, let their Ladiships see your honours.

Eit.
O,
Hee makes a wicked leg.

Tay.
As euer I saw!

Wit.
Fit for a Diuell.

Tay.
Good Madame, call him De-uile.

Wit.
De-uile, what property is there most required
They begin their Cat echisme.
I' your conceit, now, in the Escudero?

Fit.
Why doe you not speake?

Pvg.
A setled discreet pase, Madame.

Wit.
I thinke, a barren head, Sir, Mountaine-like,
To be expos'd to the cruelty of weathers—

Fit.
I, for his Valley is beneath the waste, Madame,
And to be fruitfull there, it is sufficient.
Dulnesse vpon you! Could not you hit this?

He strikes him.
Pvg.
Good Sir—

Wit.
He then had had no barren head.
You draw him too much, in troth, Sir.

Fit.
I must walke
With the French sticke, like an old vierger for you,

The Diuell prayes.
Pvg.
O, Chiefe, call mee to Hell againe, and free mee.

Fit.
Do you murmur now?

Pvg.
Not I, Sr.

Wit.
What do you take
Mr. Deuile, the height of your employment,
In the true perfect Escudero?

Fit.
When?
What doe you answer?

Pvg.
To be able, Madame,
First to enquire, then report the working,
Of any Ladies physicke, in sweete phrase,

Wit.
Yes, that's an act of elegance, and importance.
But what aboue?

Fit.
O, that I had a goad for him.

Pvg.
To find out a good Corne-cutter.

Tay.
Out on him!

Eit.
Most barbarous!

Fit.
Why did you doe this, now?
Of purpose to discredit me? you damn'd Diuell.

Pvg.
Sure, if I be not yet, I shall be. All
My daies in Hell, were holy-daies to this!

Tay.
'Tis labour lost, Madame?

Eit.
H'is a dull fellow
Of no capacity!

Tai.
Of no discourse!
O, if my Ambler had beene here!

Eit.
I, Madame;
You talke of a man, where is there such another?

Wit.
Mr. Deuile, put case, one of my Ladies, heere,
Had a fine brach: and would imploy you forth
To treate 'bout a conuenient match for her.
What would you obserue?

Pvg.
The color, and the size, Madame.

Wit.
And nothing else?

Fit.
The Moon, you calfe, the Moone!

Wit.
I, and the Signe.

Tai.
Yes, and receits for pronenesse.

Wit.
Then when the Puppies came, what would you doe?

Pvg.
Get their natiuities cast!

Wit.
This's wel. What more?

Pvg.
Consult the Almanack-man which would be least?
Which cleaneliest?

Wit.
And which silentest? This's wel, madame!

Wit.
And while she were with puppy?

Pvg.
Walke her out,
And ayre her euery morning!

Wit.
Very good!
And be industrious to kill her fleas?

Pvg.
Yes!

Wit.
He will make a pretty proficient.

Pvg.
Who,
Comming from Hell, could looke for such Catechising?
The Diuell is an Asse. I doe acknowledge it.

Fitz-dottrel admires Wittipol.
Fit.
The top of woman! All her sexe in abstract!
I loue her, to each syllable, falls from her.

Tai.
Good madame giue me leaue to goe aside with him!
And try him a little!

The Diuell praies again.
Wit.
Do, and I'll with-draw, Madame,
VVith this faire Lady: read to her, the while.

Tai.
Come, Sr.

Pvg.
Deare Chiefe, relieue me, or I perish.

Wit.
Lady, we'll follow. You are not iealous Sir?

He giues his wife to him, taking him to be a Lady.
Fit.
O, madame! you shall see. Stay wife, behold,
I giue her vp heere, absolutely, to you,
She is your owne. Do with her what you will!
Melt, cast, and forme her as you shall thinke good!
Set any stamp on! I'll receiue her from you
As a new thing, by your owne standard!

VVit.
Well, Sir!