University of Virginia Library

Scæn. 2.

Enter Guardiano, Fabritio, and Livia.
Guard.
What has your daughter seen him yet? know you that?

Fab.
No matter, she shall love him.

Guard.
Nay let's have fair play,
He has been now my Ward some fifteen year,
And 'tis my purpose (as time calls upon me)
By custom seconded, and such moral vertues,
To tender him a wife; now Sir, this wife
I'ld fain elect out of a daughter of yours.
You see my meaning's fair; if now this daughter
So tendered (let me come to your own phrase Sir)
Should offer to refuse him, I were hansell'd.
Thus am I fain to calculate all my words,
For the Meridian of a foolish old man,
To take his understanding: What do you answer Sir?

Fab.
I say still she shall love him.

Guard.
Yet again?
And shall she have no reason for this love?

Fab.
Why do you think that women love with reason?

Guard.
I perceive Fools are not at all hours foolish,
No more then wisemen wise.

Fab.
I had a wife,
She ran mad for me; she had no reason for't,
For ought I could perceive: What think you Lady Sister?

Guard.
'Twas a fit match that,
Being both out of their wits: A loving wife, it seem'd
She strove to come as near you as she could.

Fab.
And if her daughter prove not mad for love too,
She takes not after her, nor after me;
If she prefer reason before my pleasure,
Your an experienc'd widow. Lady Sister,
I pray let your opinion come amongst us.

Liv.
I must offend you then, if truth will do't,
And take my Neeces part, and call't injustice
To force her love to one she never saw.
Maids should both see, and like; all little enough;
If they love truly after that, 'tis well.
Counting the time, she takes one man till death,
That's a hard task, I tell you; but one may
Enquire at three years end, amongst yong wives,
And mark how the game goes.

Fab.
Why, is not man
Tide to the same observance, Lady Sister,
And in one woman?

Liv.
'Tis enough for him;
Besides he tastes of many sundry dishes
That we poor wretches never lay our lips to;
As Obedience forsooth, Subjection, Duty, and such Kickshaws,
All of our making, but serv'd in to them;
And if we lick a finger, then sometimes
We are not too blame: Your best Cooks use it.

Fab.
Th'art a sweet Lady, Sister, and a witty—

Liv.
A witty! Oh the bud of commendation
Fit for a Girl of sixteen; I am blown man,
I should be wise by this time; and for instance,
I have buried my two husbands in good fashion,
And never mean more to marry.

Guard.
No, why so Lady?

Liv.
Because the third shall never bury me:
I think I am more then witty; how think you Sir?

Fab.
I have paid often fees to a Counsellor
Has had a weaker brain.

Liv.
Then I must tell you,
Your money was soon parted.

Guard.
Light her now Brother.

Liv.
Where is my Neece? let her be sent for straight,
If you have any hope, 'twill prove a wedding;
'Tis fit y'faith she should have one sight of him,
And stop upon't, and not be joyn'd in haste,
As if they went to stock a new found Land.

Fab.
Look out her Uncle, and y'are sure of her,
Those two are nev'r asunder, they've been heard
In Argument at midnight, Moon-shine nights
Are Noon days with them; they walk out their sleeps;
Or rather at those hours, appear like those
That walk in 'em, for so they did to me.
Look you, I told you truth; they're like a chain,
Draw but one link, all follows.

Enter Hippolito, and Isabella the Neece.
Guard.
Oh affinity,
What peece of excellent workmanship art thou?
'Tis work clean wrought; for there's no lust, but love in't,
And that abundantly: when in stranger things,
There is no love at all, but what lust brings.

Fab.
On with your Mask, for 'tis your part to see now,
And not be seen: Go too, make use of your time;
See what you mean to like; nay, and I charge you,
Like what you see: Do you hear me? there's no dallying:
The Gentleman's almost twenty, and 'tis time
He were getting lawful heirs, and you a breeding on 'em.

Neece.
Good Father!

Fab.
Tell not me of tongues and rumors.
You'll say the Gentleman is somewhat simple,
The better for a husband, were you wise;
For those that marry fools, live Ladies lives.
On with the Mask, I'll hear no more, he's rich;
The fool's hid under Bushels.

Liv.
Not so hid neither;
But here's a foul great peece of him methinks;
What will he be, when he comes altogether?

Enter the Ward with a Trap-stick, and Sordido his man.
Ward.
Beat him?
I beat him out o'th' field with his own Cat-stick,
Yet gave him the first hand.

Sord.
Oh strange!

Ward.
I did it,
Then he set Jacks on me.

Sord.
What, my Ladies Tailor?

Ward.
I, and I beat him too.

Sord.
Nay that's no wonder,
He's us'd to beating.

Ward.
Nay, I tickel'd him
When I came once to my tippings.

Sord.

Now you talk on 'em;
There was a Poulterers wife made a great complaint
of you last night to your Gardianer, that you struck
a bump in her childes head, as big as an Egg.

Ward.

An Egg may prove a Chicken then in time;
the Poulterers wife will get by't. When I am in game,
I am furious; came my Mothers eyes in my way, I
would not lose a fair end: No, were she alive, but
with one tooth in her head, I should venture the
striking out of that. I think of no body, when I am
in play, I am so earnest. Coads-me, my Gardianer!
Prethee lay up my Cat and Cat-stick safe.

Sord.
Where Sir, i'th' Chimney-corner?

Ward.
Chimney Corner!

Sord.
Yes Sir, your Cats are always safe i'th' Chimney Corner,
Unless they burn their Coats.

Ward.
Marry, that I am afraid on.

Sord.
Why, then I will bestow your Cat i'th' Gutter,
And there she's safe I am sure.

Ward.
If I but live
To keep a house, I'll make thee a great man,
If meat and drink can do't. I can stoop gallantly,
And pitch out when I lift: I'm dog at a hole,
I mar'l my Guardianer do's not seek a wife for me;
I protest I'll have a bout with the Maids else,
Or contract my self at midnight to the Larder-woman,
In presence of a Fool, or a Sack-posset.

Guard.
Ward.

Ward.
I feel my self after any exercise
Horribly prone: Let me but ride, I'm lusty,
A Cock-horse straight y'faith.

Guard.
Why Ward, I say.

Ward.
I'll forswear eating Eggs in Moon-shine nights;
There's nev'r a one I eat, but turns into a Cock
In four and twenty hours, if my hot blood
Be not took down in time, sure 'twill crow shortly.

Guard.
Do you hear Sir? follow me, I must new School you.

Ward.
School me? I scorn that now, I am past schooling.
I am not so base to learn to write and read;
I was born to better fortunes in my Cradle.

Exit.
Fab.
How do you like him Girl? this is your husband.
Like him, or like him not wench, you shall have him,
And you shall love him.

Liv.
Oh soft there Brother! though you be a Justice,
Your Warrant cannot be serv'd out of your liberty,
You may compel out of the power of Father,
Things meerly harsh to a Maids flesh and blood;
But when you come to love, there the soil alters;
Y'are in an other Country, where your Laws
Are no more set by, then the cacklings
Of Geese in Romes great Capitol.

Fab.
Marry him she shall then,
Let her agree upon love afterwards.

Exit.
Liv.
You speak now Brother like an honest mortal
That walks upon th'earth with a staff;
You were up i'th' Clouds before, you'ld command love,
And so do most old folks that go without it.
My best and dearest Brother, I could dwell here;
There is not such another seat on earth,
Where all good parts better express themselves.

Hip.
You'll make me blush anon.

Liv.
'Tis but like saying grace before a Feast then,
And that's most comely; thou art all a Feast,
And she that has thee, a most happy guest.
Prethee chear up that Neece with special Counsel.

Hip.
I would 'twere fit to speak to her what I would; but
'Twas not a thing ordain'd, Heaven has forbid it,
And 'tis most meet, that I should rather perish
Then the Decree Divine receive least blemish:
Feed inward you my sorrows, make no noise,
Consume me silent, let me be stark dead
Ere the world know I'm sick. You see my honesty,
If you befriend me, so.

Neece.
Marry a Fool!
Can there be greater misery to a woman
That means to keep her days true to her husband,
And know no other man! so vertue wills it.
Why; how can I obey and honor him,
But I must needs commit Idolatry?
A Fool is but the Image of a man,
And that but ill made neither: Oh the heart-breakings
Of miserable Maids, where love's inforc'd!
The best condition is but bad enough;
When women have their choices, commonly
They do but buy their thraldoms, and bring great portions
To men to keep 'em in subjection,
As if a fearful prisoner should bribe
The Keeper to be good to him, yet lies in still,
And glad of a good usage, a good look
Sometimes by'r Lady; no misery surmounts a womans.
Men buy their slaves, but women buy their masters;
Yet honesty and love makes all this happy,
And next to Angels, the most blest estate.
That Providence, that h'as made ev'ry poyson
Good for some use, and sets four warring Elements
At peace in man, can make a harmony
In things that are most strange to humane reason.
Oh but this marriage! What are you sad too Uncle?
Faith then there's a whole houshold down together:
Where shall I go to seek my comfort now
When my best friend's distressed? what is't afflicts you Sir?

Hip.
Faith nothing but one grief that will not leave me,
And now 'tis welcome; ev'ry man has something
To bring him to his end, and this will serve
Joyn'd with your fathers cruelty to you,
That helps it forward.

Neece.
Oh be cheer'd sweet Uncle!
How long has't been upon you, I nev'r spi'd it:
What a dull sight have I, how long I pray Sir?

Hip.
Since I first saw you Neece, and left Bologna.

Neece.
And could you deal so unkindly with my heart,
To keep it up so long hid from my pitty?
Alas, how shall I trust your love hereafter?
Have we past through so many arguments,
And miss'd of that still, the most needful one?
Walk'd out whole nights together in discourses,
And the main point forgot? We are too blame both;
This is an obstinate wilful forgetfulness,
And faulty on both parts: Let's lose no time now,
Begin good Uncle, you that feel't; what is it?

Hip.
You of all creatures Neece must never hear on't,
'Tis not a thing ordain'd for you to know.

Neece.
Not I Sir! all my joys that word cuts off;
You made profession once you lov'd me best;
'Twas but profession!

Hip.
Yes, I do't too truly,
And fear I shall be chid for't: Know the worst then:
I love thee dearlier then an Uncle can.

Neece.
Why so you ever said, and I believ'd it.

Hip.
So simple is the goodness of her thoughts,
They understand not yet th'unhallowed language
Of a near sinner: I must yet be forced
(Though blushes be my venture) to come nearer.
As a man love's his wife, so love I thee.

Neece.
What's that?
Methought I heard ill news come toward me,
Which commonly we understand too soon,
Then over-quick at hearing, I'll prevent it,
Though my joys fare the harder; welcome it:
It shall nev'r come so near mine ear again.
Farewel all friendly solaces and discourses,
I'll learn to live without ye, for your dangers
Are greater then your comforts; what's become
Of truth in love, if such we cannot trust,
When blood that should be love, is mix'd with lust.

Exit.
Hip.
The worst can be but death, and let it come,
He that lives joyless, ev'ry day's his doom.

Exit.