 | A Cure for a Cuckold |  |
Actus secundus.
Scena prima.
Enter Rochfield a young Gentleman.Roch.
A younger Brother? 'tis a poor Calling (though not
unlawful) very hard to live on; the elder fool inherits
all the Lands, and we that follow Legacies of Wit, and get
'em when we can too. Why should Law (if we be lawful and
legitimate) leave us without an equal divident? Or why compels
it not our Fathers else to cease from getting, when they
want to give? No sure, our Mothers will ne're agree to that,
they love to groan, although the Gallows eccho and groan together
for us. From the first we travel forth, t'other's our journeys
end. I must forward, to beg is out of my way, and borrowing
be, and I am in't, the place will serve for a yong beginner, for
this is the first day I set ope shop; success then sweet Laverna,
I have heard that Thieves adore thee for a Deity.
Enter Annabel and a servant.
I would not purchase by thee, but to eat,
And 'tis too churlish to deny me meat.
Soft, here may be a booty.
An.
Hors'd, sayest thou?
Ser.
Yes Mistriss, with Lessingham.
An.
Alack, I know not what to doubt or fear, I know not well
whether't be well or ill: but sure it is no custom for the Groom
to leave his Bride upon the Nuptial day. I am so yong and ignorant
a Scholar, yes, and it proves so: I talk away perhaps that
might be yet recovered. Prithee run, the fore-path may advantage
thee to meet 'em, or the Ferry which is not two miles before,
may trouble 'em until thou comest in ken, and if thou dost,
prithee enforce thy voice to overtake thine eyes, cry out, and
crave for me but one word 'fore his departure. I will not stay
him, say, beyond his pleasure; nor rudely ask the cause, if he be
willing to keep it from me. Charge him by all the love. But I
stay thee too long. Run, run.
Ser.
If I had wings I would spread 'em now, Mistriss.
Exit.
An.
Ile make the best speed after that I can,
Yet I am not well acquainted with the path:
My fears I fear me will misguide me too.
Exit.
Roch.
There's good moveables I perceive, what ere the ready
Coin be, who ever owns her, she's mine now: the next ground
has a most pregnant hollow for the purpose.
Exit
Enter servant running over. Enter Annabel, after her Rochfield.
An.
I'm at a doubt already where I am.
Roch.
Ile help you, Mistriss, well overtaken.
An.
Defend me goodness. What are you?
Roch.
A man.
An.
An honest man, I hope.
Roch.
In some degrees hot, not altogether cold,
So far as rank poison, yet dangerous
As I may be drest: I am an honest thief.
An.
Honest and Thief hold small affinity, I never heard they
were a kin before, pray Heaven I finde it now.
I tell you my name.
An.
Then honest thief, since you have taught me so, for Ile enquire
no other, use me honestly.
Roch.
Thus then Ile use you: First then to prove me honest,
I will not violate your Chastity, (that's no part yet of my profession)
be you Wife or Virgin.
An.
I am both, Sir.
Roch.
This then it seems should be your Wedding-day, and
these the hours of interim to keep you in that double state. Come
then, Ile be brief, for Ile not hinder your desired Hymen: You
have about you some superfluous Toys, which my lanck hungry
pockets would contrive with much more profit, and more privacy;
you have an idle Chain which keeps your Neck a Prisoner,
a Mannacle I take it, about your wrist too. If these prove
Emblems of the combined Hemp to halter mine, the Fates take
their pleasure, these are set down to be your Ransom, and there
the Thief is proved.
An.
I will confess both, and the last forget; you shall be
onely honest in this deed. Pray you take it, I intreat you to it,
and then you steal 'em not.
Roch.
You may deliver 'em.
An.
Indeed I cannot: if you observe, Sir, they are both lock'd
about me, and the Key I have not; happily you are furnisht
with some instrument, that may unloose 'em.
Roch.
No in troth, Lady, I am but a Fresh-man,
I never read further than this Book you see,
And this very day is my beginning too:
These picking Laws I am to study yet.
An.
Oh, do not show me that, Sir, 'tis too frightful:
Good, hurt me not, for I do yield 'em freely:
Use but your hands, perhaps their strength will serve
To tear 'em from me without much detriment,
Somewhat I will endure.
Roch.
Well, sweet Lady, y'are the best Patient for a young
Physician, that I think e're was practis'd on. Ile use you as gently
as I can, as I'm an honest Thief. No? wilt not do? do I
hurt you, Lady?
An.
Not much, Sir.
Roch.
I'd be loath at all, I cannot do't.
She draws his sword
Nay then you shall not, Sir. You a Thief,
And guard your self no better? No further read?
Yet out in your own book? A bad Clerk, are you not?
Roch.
I by Saint Nicholas, Lady, sweet Lady.
An.
Sir, I have now a Masculine vigor, and will redeem my
self with purchase too. What money have you?
Roch.
Not a cross, by this foolish hand of mine.
An.
No money. 'Twere pity then to take this from thee: I
know thou'lt use me ne're the worse for this, take it agen, I know
not how to use it: A frown had taken't from me, which thou hadst
not. And now hear and believe me, on my knees I make the
Protestation, Forbear to take what violence and danger must
dissolve, if I forgo 'em now, I do assure you would not strike my
head off for my Chain, nor my hand for this, how to deliver 'em
otherwise I know not; Accompany me back unto my house, 'tis
not far off, by all the Vows which this day I have tyed unto my
wedded husband, the honor yet equal with my Cradle puritie (if
you will tax me) to the hoped joys the blessings of the bed, posterity,
or what ought else by woman may be pledg'd, I will deliver
you in ready Coin, the full and dearest esteem of what you
crave.
Roch.
Ha, ready money is the prize I look for, it walks without
suspition any where, when Chains and Jewels may be stayed
and call'd before the Constable: But,
An.
But? Can you doubt? You saw I gave you my advantage
up: Did you e're think a woman to be true?
Roch.
Thought's free. I have heard of some few, Lady,
Very few indeed.
An.
Will you adde one more to your belief?
Roch.
They were fewer than the Articles of my Belief; therefore
I have room for you, and will believe you. Stay: you'l ransom
your Jewels with ready Coin, so may you do, and then discover
me.
An.
Shall I reiterate the Vows I made
To this injunction, or new ones coyn?
Roch.
Neither, Ile trust you: if you do destroy a Thief that
never yet did Robbery, then farewel I, and mercy fall upon me.
I knew one once fifteen years Courtier, owl'd, and he was buried
Come, you know your path back.
An.
Yes, I shall guide you.
Roch.
Your arm, Ile lead with greater dread than will,
Nor do you fear, tho in thiefs handling still.
Exeunt.
Enter two Boys, one with a childe in his arms.
1 Boy.
I say 'twas fair play.
2 Boy.
To snatch up stakes: I say you should not say so, if the
childe were out of mine arms.
1 Boy.
I then thou'dst lay about like a man, but the childe will
not be out of thine arms this five years, and then thou hast a prentiship
to serve to a boy afterwards.
Enter Compass.
2 Boy.
So sir, you know you have the advantage of me.
1 Boy.
I'm sure you have the odds of me, you are two to one.
But soft Jack, who comes here? if a Point will make us friends,
we'l not fall out.
2 Boy.
Oh the pity, 'tis Gaffer Compass! They said he was
dead three years ago.
1 Boy.
Did not he dance the Hobby-horse in Hackney-Mortice
once?
2 Boy.
Yes, yes, at Green-goose Fayr, as honest and as poor a man.
Comp.
Black-wall, sweet Black-wall, do I see thy white cheeks
again? I have brought some Brine from sea for thee: tears that
might be tyed in a True-love Knot, for they'r fresh salt indeed.
Oh beautiful Black-wall! if Urse my wife be living to this day,
though she die to morrow, sweet Fates!
2 Boy.
Alas, let's put him out of his dumps for pity sake:
Welcome home, Gaffer Compass, welcome home, Gaffer.
Compass.
My pretty youths, I thank you. Honest Jack! what a
little man art thou grown since I saw thee? Thou hast got a child
since, methinks.
2 Boy.
I am fain to keep it, you see, whosoever got it, Gaffer:
it may be another mans case as well as mine.
Comp.
Say'st true, Jack: and whose pretty knave is it?
2 Boy.
One that I mean to make a younger brother if he live
to't, Gaffer. But I can tell you news: You have a brave Boy of
your own wifes: oh tis a shot to this pig.
Comp.
Have I Jack? Ile ow thee a dozen of Points for this news
Oh 'tis a chopping Boy! it cannot chuse you know, Gaffer,
it was so long a breeding.
Comp.
How long, Jack?
2 Boy.
You know 'tis four year ago since you went to sea, and
your childe is but a Quarter old yet.
Comp.
What plaguy boys are bred now adays?
1 Boy.
Pray Gaffer, how long may a childe be breeding before
'tis born?
Comp.
That is as things are and prove, childe; the soyl has a
great hand in't too, the Horizon, and the Cilme; these things
you'l understand when you go to sea. In some parts of London
hard by, you shall have a Bride married to day, and brought to
Bed within a moneth after, sometimes within three weeks, a
fortnight.
1 Boy.
Oh horrible.
Comp.
True as I tell you Lads: in another place you shall
have a couple of Drones, do what they can, shift Lodgings, Beds,
Bed-fellows, yet not a childe in ten years.
2 Boy.
Oh pitiful.
Comp.
Now it varies agen by that time you come at Wapping,
Radoliff, Lymehouse, and here with us at Black-wall, our children
come uncertainly, as the winde serves: sometimes here we are
supposed to be away three or four year together, 'tis nothing so;
we are at home and gone agen, when no body knows on't: if
you'l believe me, I have been at Surrat as this day, I have taken
the Long-boat (a fair Gale with me) been here a bed with my
wife by twelve a Clock at night, up and gone agen i'th morning
and no man the wiser, if you'l believe me.
2 Boy.
Yes, yes Gaffer, I have thought so many times that
you or somebody else have been at home, I lye at next wall,
and I have heard a noise in your chamber all night long.
Comp.
Right, why that was I, yet thou never sawst me.
2 Boy.
No indeed, Gaffer.
Comp.
No, I warrant thee, I was a thousand leagues off e're
thou wert up. But Jack, I have been loath to ask all this while
for discomforting my self, how does my wife? is she living?
2 Boy.
Oh never better, Gaffer, never so lusty, and truly she
wears better clothes than she was wont in your days, especially
on Holidays, fair Gowns, brave Petticoats, and fine Smocks,
they say that have seen 'em; and some of the neighbors reports
Comp.
Like enough: they must be paid for, Jack:
2 Boy.
And good reason, Gaffer.
Comp.
Well Jack, thou shalt have the honor on't, go tell my
wife the joyful tidings of my return.
2 Boy.
That I will, for she heard you were dead long ago.
Exit
1 Boy.
Nay sir, Ile be as forward as you, by your leave.
Exit.
Comp.
Well wife, if I be one of the Livery, I thank thee,
The Horners are a great Company, there may be
An Alderman amongst us one day, 'tis but changing
Our Copy, and then we are no more to be called
By our old Brother-hood.
Enter Compass his wife.
Wife.
Oh my sweet Compass, art thou come agen?
Comp.
Oh Urse, give me leave to shed, the fountain of Love
Will have their course; though I cannot sing at first sight,
Yet I can cry before I see. I am new come into the world,
And children cry before they laugh, a fair while.
Wife.
And so thou art, sweet Compass, new born indeed; for
Rumor laid thee out for dead long since, I never thought to see
this face agen. I heard thou wert div'd to th'bottom of the sea,
and taken up a Lodging in the Sands, never to come to Black-wall
agen.
Comp.
I was going indeed wife, but I turn'd back: I heard an
ill report of my neighbors, Sharks and Sword-fishes, and the like,
whose companies I did not like: come kiss my tears now sweet
Urse, sorrow begins to ebb.
Wife.
A thousand times welcome home, sweet Compass.
Comp.
An Ocean of thanks, and that will hold 'em: and Urse,
how goes all at home? or cannot all go yet? Lanck still? will't
never be full Sea at our Wharf?
Wife.
Alas, husband.
Comp.
A lass or a lad, wench, I should be glad of both: I did
look for a pair of Compasses before this day.
Wife.
And you from home?
Comp.
I from home? why though I be from home, and other
of our neighbors from home, it is not fit all should be from home,
so the town might be left desolate, and our neighbors of Bowe
might come further from the Itacus, and inhabit here.
I'm glad y'are merry, sweet husband.
Comp.
Merry? nay, Ile be merrier yet, why should I be sorry?
I hope my boy's well, is he not? I lookt for another by this
time.
Wife.
What boy, husband?
Comp.
What boy? why the boy I got when I came home in
the Cock-boat one night, about a year ago? you have not forgotten't,
I hope? I think I left behinde for a boy, and a boy I must
be answer'd: I'm sure I was not drunk, it could be no girl.
Wife.
Nay then I do perceive my fault is known. Dear man,
your pardon.
Comp.
Pardon. Why thou hast not made away my boy, hast
thou? Ile hang thee if there were ne're a whore in London more,
if thou hast hurt but his little toe.
Wife.
Your long absence, with rumor of your death,
After long battery I was surprized.
Comp.
Surprized? I cannot blame thee: Black-wall, if it were
double black-walled, can't hold out always, no more than Lymehouse,
or Shadwell, or the strongest Suburbs about London, and
when it comes to that, woe be to the City too.
Wife.
Pursued by gifts and promises I yielded: Consider husband,
I am a woman, neither the first nor last of such Offenders,
'tis true, I have a childe.
Comp.
Ha, you? and what shall I have then I pray? will not
you labor for me as I shall do for you? Because I was out o'th
way when 'twas gotten, shall I loose my share? There's better
Law amongst the Players yet; for a fellow shall have his share
though he do not play that day: if you look for any part of my
fours Years wages, I will have half the boy.
Wife.
If you can forgive me, I shall be joyed at it.
Comp.
Forgive thee, for what? for doing me a pleasure? and
what is he that would seem to father my childe?
Wife.
A man sir, whom in better courtesies we have been beholding
too: the Merchant, Mr. Franckford.
Comp.
Ile acknowledge no other courtesies: for this I am beholding
to him, and I would requite it if his wife were young
enough. Though he be one of our Merchants at Sea, he shall give
me leave to be Owner at home. And where's my boy? shall I
see him?
He's nurst at Bednal-green: 'tis now too late,
To morrow Ile bring you to it, if you please.
Comp.
I would thou couldst bring me another by to morrow.
Come, we'l eat and to bed, and if a fair Gale come,
We'l hoist sheets, and set forwards.
Let fainting fools lie sick upon their scorns,
Ile reach a Cuckold how to hide his horns.
Exeunt.
Enter Woodroff, Franckford, Raymond, Eustace, Grover, Lyonel, Clare, Luce.
Wood.
This wants a president, that a Bridegroom should so discreet
and decently observe his Forms, Postures, all customary
Rites belonging to the Table, and then hide himself from his expected
wages in the bed.
Franck.
Let this be forgotten too, that it remains not a first
example.
Raym.
Keep it amongst us, lest it beget too much unfruitful
sorrow: most likely 'tis that love to Lessingham hath fastened
on him, we all denied.
Eust.
'Tis more certain than likely. I know 'tis so.
Grov.
Conceal then: the event may be well enough.
Wood.
The Bride my daughter, she's hidden too:
This last hour she hath not been seen with us.
Raym.
Perhaps they are together.
Eust.
And then we make too strict an inquisition, under correction
of fair modesty, should they be stoln away to bed together,
what would you say to that?
Wood.
I would say, Speed 'em well,
Enter Nurse.
And if no worse news comes, Ile never weep for't.
How now, hast thou any tidings?
Nurse.
Yes forsooth, I have tidings.
Wood.
Of any one that's lost?
Nurse.
Of one that's found agen, forsooth.
Wood.
Oh, he was lost, it seems then?
Franck.
This tidings comes to me, I guess Sir.
Nurse.
Yes truly does it, sir.
Raym.
I, has old Lads work for young Nurses?
Eust.
Yes, when they groan towards their second infancy.
Clare.
I fear my self most guilty for the absence of the Bridegroom:
to bring out calm discretions to repentance? Lessingham's
mistaken, quite out o'th way of my purpose too.
Franck.
Return'd?
Nurse.
And all discover'd.
Franck.
A fool rid him further off. Let him not
Come near the child.
Nurse.
Nor see't, if it be your charge.
Franck.
It is, and strictly.
Nurse.
To morrow morning, as I hear, he purposeth to come
to Bednal-green, his wife with him.
Franck.
He shall be met there; yet if he sore-stall my coming,
keep the childe safe.
Nurse.
If he be the earlier up, he
shall arive at the proverb.
Enter Rochfield and Annabel.
Wood.
So, so, there's some good luck yet,
The Bride's in sight agen.
Anna.
Father, and Gentlemen all, beseech you entreat this
Gentleman with all courtesie, he is a loving kinsman of my Bonviles,
that kindly came to gratulate our Wedding; but as the
day falls out, you see alone I personate both Groom and Bride;
onely your help to make this welcome better.
Wood.
Most dearly.
Raym.
To all, assure you sir.
Wood.
But where's the Bridegroom, Girl? We are all at a
non-plus here, at a stand, quite out, the Musick ceased, and dancing
surbated, not a light heel amongst us; my Cousin Clare too
as cloudy here as on a washing-day.
Clare.
It is because you will not dance with me,
I should then shake it off.
Anna.
'Tis I have cause to be the sad one now, if any be: but
I have question'd with my meditations, and they have rend'red
well and comfortably to the worst fear I found: Suppose this
day he had long since appointed to his foe to meet, and fetch a
Reputation from him (which is the dearest Jewel unto man.) Say
he do fight, I know his goodness such, that all those Powers that
love it are his guard, and ill cannot betide him.
Wood.
Prithee peace, thou'lt make us all Cowards to hear a
woman instruct so valiantly. Come, the Musick, Ile dance my self
rather than thus put down, what, I am rise a little yet.
Onely this Gentleman, pray you be free in welcome
too, I tell you I was in a fear when first I saw him.
Roch.
Ha? she'l tell.
Anna.
I had quite lost my way in my first amazement, but he
so fairly came to my recovery, in his kinde conduct, gave me such
loving comforts to my fears: ('twas he instructed me in what I
spake) and many better than I have told you yet, you shall hear
more anon.
Roch.
So, she will out with't.
Anna.
I must, I see, supply both places still: Come, when I
have seen you back to your pleasure, I will return to you, Sir: we
must discourse more of my Bonvile yet.
Omnes.
A noble Bride 'faith.
Clare.
You have your wishes, and you may be merry,
Mine have over-gone me.
Exeunt.
Manent Rochfield solus.
Roch.
It is the tremblingst trade to be a Thief, h'ad need have
all the world bound to the peace, besides the bushes, and the
phanes of houses; every thing that moves he goes in fear of's
life on. A furr-gown'd Cat, and meet her in the night, she stares
with a Constables eye upon him; and every Dog, a Watch-man;
a black Cowe and a Calf with a white face after her, shows like
a surly Justice and his Clerk; and if the Baby go but to the bag,
'tis ink and paper for a Mittimus: Sure I shall never thrive on't,
and it may be I shall need take no care, I may be now at my
journeys end, or but the Goals distance, and so to'th t'other
place: I trust a woman with a secret worth a hanging, is that
well? I could finde in my heart to run away yet. And that were
base too, to run from a woman; I can lay claim to nothing but
her Vows, and they shall strengthen me.
Enter Annabel.
Anna.
See sir, my promise, there's twenty Pieces, the full value
I vow, of what they cost.
Roch.
Lady, do not trap me like a Sumpter-horse, and then
spur-gall me till I break my winde: if the Constable be at the
door, let his fair staff appear, perhaps I may corrupt him with this
Gold.
Anna.
Nay? then if you mistrust me: Father,
Gentlemen, Mr. Raymond, Eustace.
Enter all as before, and a Saylor
How now, what's the matter, Girl?
Anna.
For shame will you bid your Kinsman welcome:
No one but I will lay a hand on him,
Leave him alone, and all a revelling.
Wood.
Oh, is that it. Welcome, welcome heartily, I thought
the Bridegroom had been return'd. But I have news, Annabel:
this fellow brought it. Welcome Sir, why you tremble methinks,
Sir.
Anna.
Some agony of anger 'tis, believe it, his entertainment
is so cold and feeble.
Raym.
Pray be cheer'd, Sir.
Roch.
I'm wondrous well, sir, 'twas the Gentlemans mistake.
Wood.
'Twas my hand shook belike, then you must pardon
Age, I was stiffer once. But as I was saying, I should by promise
see the Sea to morrow, 'tis meant for Physick as low as Lee or
Margets: I have a Vessel riding forth, Gentlemen, 'tis called
the God-speed too, though I say't, a brave one, well and richly
fraughted; and I can tell you she carries a Letter of Mart in
her mouth too, and twenty roaring Boys on both sides on her,
Star-board and Lar-board. What say you now, to make you all
Adventures? you shall have fair dealing, that Ile promise you.
Raym.
A very good motion, sir I begin, there's my ten pieces.
Eust.
I second 'em with these.
Grov.
My ten in the third place.
Roch.
And Sir, if you refuse not a proffet'd love, take my ten
Pieces with you too.
Wood.
Yours, above all the rest, Sir.
Anna.
Then make 'em above, venter ten more.
Roch.
Alas Lady, 'tis a younger brothers portion, and all in
one Bottom.
Anna.
At my encouragement, Sir, your credit (if you want
Sir) shall not sit down under that sum return'd.
Roch.
With all my heart, Lady. There Sir: So, she has fisht
for her Gold back, and caught it; I am no thief now.
Wood.
I shall make here a pretty Assurance.
Roch.
Sir, I shal have a suit to you.
Wood.
You are likely to obtain it then, Sir.
Roch.
That I may keep you company to Sea, and attend you
back; I am a little travell'd.
And heartily thank you too, sir.
Anna.
Why, that's well said: Pray you be merry, though your
Kinsman be absent, I am here, the worst part of him, yet that
shall serve to give you welcome: to morrow may show you what
this night will not, and be full assured,
Nothing shall give you cause of Discontent.
There's ten more, Sir.
Roch.
Why should I fear? Fouter on't, Ile be merry now spite
of the Hang-man.
Exeunt.
| A Cure for a Cuckold | |