University of Virginia Library

Actus tertius.

Scena prima.

Enter Roughman and Forset.
Forset.
Oh y'are well met, just as I propheside
So it fell out.

Fors.
As how I pray?

Rough.
Had you but staid the crossing of one field,
You had beheld a Hector, the boldest Trojan
That ever Roughman met with.

Fors.
Pray what was he?

Rough.
You talke of Little Davy, Cutting Dick,
And divers such, but tush, this hath no fellow.

Fors.
Of what stature and yeares was he?

Rough.
Indeed I must confesse he was no giant,
Nor above fifty, but he did bestirre him,
Was here and there, and every where at once,
That I was ne'er so put to't since the Midwife
First wrapt my head in linnen. Let's to Besse.
Ile tell her the whole project.

Fors.
Heres the house, wee'll enter if you please.

Roug.
Where be these Drawers, Rascals I should say?
That will give no attendance.

Enter Clem.
Clem.

Anon, anon sir, please you see a roome. What you
here againe? Now we shall have such roaring.

Rough.
You sirrah call your Mistresse.

Clem.
Yes sir, I know it is my duty to call her Mistresse.

Rough.
See and the slave will stir.

Clem.
Yes I doe stir.

Rough.
Shal we have humors, sauce-box, you have eares
Ile teach you prick-song.

Clem.

But you have now a wrong Sow by the eare. I
will call her,

Roughm.

Doe sir, you had best.

Clem.

If you were twenty Roughmans, if you lug me by
the eares againe, Ile draw.

Roughm.

Ha, what will you draw?

Clem.

The best wine in the house for your worship: and
I would call her, but I can assure you she is eyther not stirring,
or else not in case.

Roughm.

How not in case?

Clem.

I thinke she hath not her smocke on, for I thinke
I saw it lye at her beds head.

Rough.
What, Drawers grow capritious?

Clem.
Help, help.

Enter Besse Bridges.
Besse.
What uprore's this? shall we be never rid.
From these disturbances?

Rough.
Why how now Besse? Is this your huswifry?
When you are mine Ile have you rise as early as the Larke,
Looke to the Bar your selfe: these lazy rascalls
Will bring your state behinde hand.

Clem.
You lye sir?

Roughm.
How? lye?

Clem.

Yes sir at the Raven in the high-street, I was at
your lodging this morning for a pottle pot.

Roughm.
You will about your businesse, must you heare
Stand gaping and idle?

Besse.
You wrong me sir,
And tyrannize too much over my servants.
I will have no man touch them but my selfe.

Clem.

If I doe not put Rats-bane into his wine in stead
of Suger, say I am no true Baker.

Roughm.
VVhat, rise at noone?
A man may fight a tall fray in a morning,
And one of your best friends too be hackt and mangled,
And almost cut to peeces, and you fast
Close in your bed, ne'er dreame on't.

Besse.
Fought you this day?

Roughm.
And ne'er was better put too't in my daies.

Besse.
I pray, how was't?

Roughm.
Thus: as I past yon fields:

Enter the Kitchin-maid.
Maid.

I pray forsooth, what shall I reckon for the Iolle
of Ling in the Port-cullis.

Roughm.
A pox upon your Iolles, you kitchin-stuffe,
Goe scowre your skillets, pots, and dripping-pans,
And interrupt not us.

Maid.
The Devill take your Oxe-heeles, you foule
Cods-head, must you be kicking?

Roughm.
Minion dare you scould?

Maid.
Yes sir, and lay my ladle over your coxcombe.

Besse.
I doe not thinke that thou darst strike a man,
That swaggerst thus ore women.

Rough.
How now Besse?

Besse.
Shall we be never quiet?

Fors.
You are too rude.

Roughm.
Now I professe all patience.

Bess.
Then proceede.

Roughm.
Rising up early, Minion whilst you slept,
To crosse yon field, I had but newly parted
With this my friend, but that I soone espide
A gallant fellow, and most strongly arm'd.
In the mid-field we met, and both being resolute,
VVe justled for the wall.

Besse.
VVhy, did there stand a wall in the mid-field?

Roughm.
I meant strove for the way.
Two such brave spirits meeting, straight both drew.

Enter Clem.
Clem.

The Maid forsooth sent me to know whether
you would have the shoulder of mutton roasted or sod.

Roughm.
A mischiefe on your shoulders.

Cl.
That's the way to make me never prove good porter

Besse.
You still heape wrongs on wrongs.

Rough.
I was in fury
To thinke upon the violence of that fight,
And could not stay my rage.

Fors.
Once more proceed.

Roughm.
Oh had you seene two tilting meteors justle
In the mid Region, with like feare and fury
We two encounter'd. Not Briarius
Could with his hundred hands have strucke more thicke.
Blowes came about my head, I tooke them still.
Thrusts by my sides twixt body and my armes,
Yet still I put them by.

Besse.
When they were past he put them by. Goe on.
But in this fury what became of him?

Ro.
I thinke I paid him home, hee's soundly maul'd,
I bosom'd him at every second thrust.

Besse.
Scap'd he with life?

Rough.
I, thats my feare: if he recover this,
Ile never trust my sword more.

Besse.
Why fly you not if he be in such danger?

Rough.
Because a witch once told me
I ne'er should dye for murder.

Besse.
I beleeve thee,
But tell me pray, was not this gallant fellow,
A pretty faire young youth about my yeares?

Rough.
Even thereabout.

Clem.
He was not fiftie then.

Besse.
Much of my stature?

Rough.
Much about your pitch,

Clem.
He was no giant then.

Besse.
And wore a suit like this?

Rough.
I halfe suspect.

Besse.
That gallant fellow,
So wounded and so mangled, was my selfe,
You base white-lyver'd slave, it was this shooe
That thou stoopt to untie: untrust those points:
And like a beastly coward lay along,
Till I stridd over thee. Speake, was't not so?

Rough.
It cannot be deny'd.

Besse.
Hare-hearted fellow, Milk-sop, dost not blush?
Give me that Rapier: I will make thee sweare,
Thou shalt redeeme this scorne thou hast incurr'd,
Or in this woman shape Ile cudgell thee,
And beate thee through the streets. As I am Besse, I'll do't.

Rough.
Hold, hold; I sweare.

Bes.
Dare not to enter at my doore till then.

Rough.
Shame confounds me quite.

Bess.
That shame redeem: perhaps wee'l doe thee grace
I love the valiant, but despise the base.

Exit.
Clem.
VVill you be kickt sir?

Rough.
She hath wakend me,
And kindled that dead fire of courage in me,
VVhich all this while hath slept: To spare my flesh
And wound my fame, what is't? I will not rest
Till by some valiant deed I have made good
All my disgraces past. Ile crosse the streete,
And strike the next brave fellow that I meet.

Fors.
I am bound to see the end on't.

Rough.
Are you sir?

Beates off Forset.
Enter Mayor of Foy, an Alderman, and Servant.
Mayor.
Beleeve me sir, she beares her selfe so well,
No man can justly blame her: and I wonder
Being a single woman as she is,
And living in an house of such resort,
She is no more distasted.

Alder.
The best Gentlemen
The Country yeelds, become her daily guests.
Sure sir I thinke shee's rich.

Mayor.
Thus much I know, would I could buy her state
VVere't for a brace of thousands.

A shot.
Ald.
Twas said a ship is now put into harbour,
Know whence she is.

Serv.
Ile bring newes from the key.

Mayor.
To tell you true sir, I could wish a match
Betwixt her and mine owne and onely sonne,
And stretch my purse too upon that condition.

Ald.
Please you Ile motion it.

Enter the Servant.
Serv.
One of the ships is new come from the Islands,
The greatest man of note's one Captaine Goodlack.
It is but a small Vessell.

Enter Goodlack and Sailors.
Goodl.
Ile meet you straight at th'VVind-mill.
Not one word of my name.

1 Sail.
VVe understand you.

Mayor.
Sir tis told us you came late from th'Islands!

Goodl.
I did so:

Mayor.
Pray sir the newes from thence.

Goodl.
The best is, that the Generall is in health,
And Fiall won from th'Spaniards: but the Fleet
By reason of so many dangerous tempests
Extremely wether-beaten. You sir I take it,
Are Mayor o'th towne.

Mayor.
I am the Kings Lieftenant.

Goodl.
I have some Letters of import from one
A Gentleman of very good account,
That dide late in the Islands, to a Maide
That keepes a Taverne here.

Mayor.
Her name Besse Bridges?

Goodl.
The same. I was desir'd to make inquirie
VVhat fame she beares, and what report shee's of.
Now you sir being here chiefe Magistrate,
Can best resolve me.

Mayor.
To our understanding,
Shee's without staine or blemish well reputed,
And by her modesty and faire demeanour,
Hath won the love of all.

Goodl.
The worse for me.

Alder.
I can assure you many narrow eyes
Have lookt on her and her condition,
But those that with most envy have endevour'd
T'entrap her, have return'd won by her vertues.

Goodl.
So all that I inquire of make report.
I am glad to heare't. Sir I have now some businesse,
And I of force must leave you.

Mayor.
I intreat you to sup with me to night.

Goodl.
Sir I may trouble you.
Five hundred pound a yeare out of my way.
Is there no flaw that I can tax her with,
To forfeit this revenew? Is she such a Saint,
None can missay her? why then I my selfe
VVill undertake it. If in her demeanor
I can but finde one blemish, staine or spot,
It is five hundred pound a yeare well got.

Exit.
Enter Clem and the Sailors on the one side, at the other Roughman, who drawes upon them, and beates them off.
Enter Besse, Clem, and the Sailors.
Bes.
But did he fight it bravely?

Clem.

I assure you mistresse most dissolutely: hee hath
runne this Sailer three times through the body, and yet
never toucht his skinne.

Besse.
How can that be?

Clem.
Through the body of his doublet I meant.

Besse,
How shame, base imputation, and disgrace
Can make a coward valiant: Sirrah you
Looke to the barre.

Clem.
Ile hold up my hand there presently.

Bes.
I understand, you came now from the Islands,

1 Sail.
VVe did so.

Bes.
If you can tell me tydings of one Gentleman
I shall require you largely.

1 Sailor.
Of what name?

Bess.
One Spencer.

1 Sailor.
VVe both saw and knew the man.

Besse.
Onely for that call for what wine you please.
Pray tell me where you left him.

2 Sailor.
In Fiall.

Bes.
VVas he in health? how did he fare?

2 Sail.
Why well.

Bess.
For that good newes, spend, revell, and carouse,
Your reckning's paid before-hand. I'me extaside,
And my delights unbounded.

1 Sail.
Did you love him?

Bess.
Next to my hopes in heaven.

1 Sail.
Then change your mirth.

Besse.
VVhy, as I take it, you told me he was well,
And shall I not rejoyce?

1 Sail.
Hee's well in heaven, For Mistrisse, he is dead,

Bess.
Hah, dead! was't so you said? Th'ast givē me, friend
But one wound yet, speake but that word againe,
And kill me out-right.

2 Sail.
He lives not.

Bess.
And shall I? VVilt thou not breake heart?
Are these my ribs wrought out of brasse or steele,
Thou canst not craze their barres?

1 Sail.
Mistris use patience, which conquers all despaire.

Besse.
You advise well:
I did but jeast with sorrow: you may see
I am now in gentle temper.

2 Sail.
True, we see't.

Bes.
Pray take the best roome in the house, and there
Call for what wine best tasts you: at my leasure
Ile visit you my selfe.

1 Sail.
Ile use your kindnesse.

Exeunt.
Besse.
That it should be my fate. Poore poore sweet-hart
I doe but thinke how thou becomst thy grave,
In which would I lay by thee: what's my wealth
To injoy't without my Spencer. I will now
Study to die, that I may live with him.

Enter Goodlack.
Goodl.
The further I inquire, the more I heare
To my discomfort. If my discontinuance
And change at Sea disguise me from her knowledge
I shall have scope enough to prove her fully.
This sadnesse argues she hath heard some newes
Of my Friends death.

Besse.
It cannot sure be true
That he is dead, Death could not be so envious
To snatch him in his prime. I study to forget
That ere was such a man.

Goodl.
If not impeach her,
My purpose is to seeke to marry her.
If she deny me, Ile conceale the VVill,
Or at the least make her compound for halfe.
Save you faire Gentlewoman.

Bess.
You are welcome sir.

Goodl.
I heare say there's a whore here that draws wine,
I am sharp set, and newly come from sea,
And I would see the trash.

Bess.
Sure you mistake sir.
If you desire attendance and some wine
I can command you both. VVhere be these boyes?

Goodl.
Are you the Mistresse?

Besse.
I command the house.

Goodl.
Of what birth are you, pra'y?

Bess.
A Tanners daughter.

Goodl.
VVhere borne?

Besse.
In Somersetshire.

Goodl.
A trade-falne Tanners daughter goe so brave:
Oh you have trickes to compasse these gay cloaths.

Besse.
None sir, but what are honest.

Goodl.
VVhat's your name?

Besse.
Besse Bridges most men call me.

Goodl.
Y'are a whore.

Besse.
Sir, I will fetch you wine to wash your mouth,
It is so foule, I feare't may fester else.
There may be danger in't.

Goodl.
Not all this move her patience.

Besse.
Good sir, at this time I am scarce my selfe
By reason of a great and weighty losse
That troubles me: but I should know that Ring.

Goodl.
How, this, you baggage? It was never made
To grace a strumpets finger.

Besse.
Pardon sir, I both must and will leave you.

Exit.
Goodl.
Did not this well? This will sticke in my stomack
I could repent my wrongs done to this maid:
But Ile not leave her thus: if she still love him,
Ile breake her heart-strings with some false report
Of his unkindnesse.

Enter Clem.
Clem.

You are welcome Gentleman: what wine will
you drinke? Claret, Metheglin, or Muskadine, Cyder or
Pyrrey, to make you merry, Aragoosa, or Peter-see-mee,
Canary or Charnico? But by your nose sir you should love
a cup of Malmsey: you shall have a cup of the best in Cornwaile.

Goodl.

Here's a brave drawer will quarrell with his wine.

Clem.

But if you preferre the Frenchman before the
Spaniard, you shall have either here of the deepe red grape
or the pallid white. You are a pretty tall Gentleman, you
should love High-Country wine: none but Clarkes and
Sextons love Graves wine. Or are you a maried man, Ile

furnish you with bastard, white or browne, according to
the complexion of your bed-fellow.

Goodl.
You rogue, how many yeares of your prentiship
Have you spent in studying this set speech?

Clem.

The first line of my part was, Anon anon, sir: and
the first question I answerd to, was logger-head, or blockhead,
I know not whether.

Goodl.

Speake, wheres your Mistresse?

Clem.

Gone up to her chamber.

Goodl.

Set a pottle of Sacke in th'fire, and carry it into
the next roome.

Exit.
Clem.

Score a pottle of Sacke in the Crowne, and see at
the barre for some rotten egges to burne it: we must have
one tricke or other to vent away our bad commodities.

Exit.
Enter Besse with Spencers Picture.
Besse.
To dye, and not vouchsafe some few commends
Before his death, was most unkindly done.
This Picture is more courteous: 'twill not shrinke
For twenty thousand kisses: no nor blush:
Then thou shalt be my husband, and I vow
Never to marry other.

Enter Goodlacke.
Goodl.
Wheres this harlot?

Besse.
You are immodest sir to presse thus rudely
Into my private chamber.

Goodl.
Pox of modesty
When punks must have it mincing in their mouthes.
And have I found thee? then shalt hence with me.

Besse.
Rob me not of the chiefest wealth I have:
Search all my trunks, take the best Iewels there:
Deprive me not that treasure, Ile redeeme it
With plate, and all the little coyne I have,
So I make keepe that still.

Goodl.
Thinkst thou that bribes
Can make me leave my friends Will unperform'd?

Besse.
What was that Friend?

Goodl.
One Spencer, dead i'th Islands,
Whose very last words uttered at his death
Were these, If ever thou shalt come to Foy,
Take thence my picture, and deface it quite:
For let it not be said, my pourtrature
Shall grace a strumpets chamber.

Bess.
Twas not so:
You lye, you are a villaine: twas not so.
Tis more then sinne thus to bely the dead:
Hee knew if ever I would have transgrest,
'T had beene with him: he durst have sworne me chaste,
And dyde in that beliefe.

Good.
Are you so briefe?
Nay, Ile not trouble you: God b'oy you.

Besse.
Yet leave me still that Picture, and Ile sweare
You are a Gentleman, and cannot lie.

Goodl.
I am inexorable.

Besse.
Are you a Christian, have you any name
That ever good man gave you?
'Twas no Saint you were call'd after. Whats thy name?

Goodl.
My name is Captaine Thomas Good—

Bess.
I can see no good in thee, Race that syllable
Out of thy name.

Goodl.
Goodlacke's my name.

Besse.
I cry you mercy sir: I now remember you,
You were my Spencers friend, and I am sory,
Because he lov'd you, I have beene so harsh:
For whose sake, I intreat ere you take't hence,
I may but take my leave on't.

Goodl.
You'l returne it?

Besse.
As I am chaste I will.

Goodl.
For once Ile trust you.

Besse.
Oh thou the perfect semblance of my Love,
And all that's left of him, take one sweet kisse,
As my last farewell. Thou resemblest him
For whose sweet safety I was every morning
Downe on my knees, and with the Larkes sweet tunes
I did begin my prayers: and when sad sleepe
Had charm'd all eyes, when none save the bright starres
Were up and waking, I remembred thee,
But all, all to no purpose.

Goodl.
Sure, most sure, this cannot be dissembled.

Besse.
To thee I have beene constant in thine absence,
And when I look'd upon this painted peece
Remembred thy last rules and principles:
For thee I have given almes, visited prisons,
To Gentlemen and passengers lent coyne,
That if they ever had abilitie
They might repay't to Spencer: yet for this,
All this, and more, I cannot have so much
As this poore table.

G.
I should question truth, if I should wrong this creature.

Besse.
I am resolv'd.
See sir, this Picture I restore you backe,
Which since it was his will you should take hence,
I will not wrong the dead.

Goodl.
God be w'you.

Besse.
One word more.
Spencer you say was so unkinde in death.

Goodl.
I tell you true.

Besse.
I doe intreat you even for goodnesse sake
Since you were one that he intirely lov'd,
If you some few dayes hence here me expir'd,
You will mongst other good men, and poore people
That haply may misse Besse, grace me so much
As follow me to th'grave. This if you promise,
You shall not be the least of all my friends
Remembred in my will. Now fare you well.

Goodl.
Had I a heart of flint or adamant
It would relent at this. My Mistris Besse,
I have better tydings for you.

Besse.
You will restore my Picture? will you?

Goodl.
Yes, and more then that,
This Ring from my friends finger sent to you,
With infinite commends.

Besse.
You change my blood.

Goodl.
These writings are the evidence of Lands,
Five hundred pound ayeare's bequeath'd to you,
Of which I here possesse you: all is yours.

Besse.
This surplussage of love, hath made my losse
That was but great before: now infinite.
It may be compast: there's in this my purpose
No impossibilitie.

Goodl.
What study you?

Besse.
Foure thousand pound besides this Legacie,
In Iewels, gold, and silver I can make,
And every man discharg'd. I am resolv'd
To be a patterne to all Maides hereafter
Of constancy in love.

G.
Sweet Mistris Besse, will you command my service,
Is to succeed your Spencer in his Love,
I would expose me wholly to your wishes.

Besse.
Alas my love sleepes with him in his grave,
And cannot thence be wakend: yet for his sake
I will impart a secret to your trust,
Which, saving you, no mortall should partake.

Goodl.
Both for his love and yours, command my service.

Besse.
There's a prise
Brought into Famouth Road, a good tight Vessell,
The Bottome will but cost eight hundred pound,
You shall have money: buy it.

Goodl.
To what end?

Besse.
That you shall know hereafter. Furnish her
With all provision needfull: spare no cost:
And joyne with you a ginge of lusty ladds,
Such as will bravely man her: all the charge
I will commit to you: and when shee's fitted,
Captaine she is thine owne.

Goodl.
I sound it not.

Besse.
Spare me the rest. This voyage I intend,
Though some may blame, all Lovers will commend.

Exeunt.