University of Virginia Library

Scæn 2.

Enter Rosaluce, and Lugier.
Ros.
Ye have now redeem'd my good opinion (Tutor)
And ye stand faire again.

Lug.
I can but labour,
And sweat in your Affaires: I am sure Bellure:
Wilbe here instantly, and use his Anger
His wonted harshness.

Ros.
I hope he will not beate me.

Lug.
No sure; he has more manners: be you ready.

Ros.
Yes, yes, I am: and am resolv'd to fit him,
With patience to out-doe all he can offer;
But how do's Oriana?

Lug.
Worse, and worse still:
There is a sad house for her: she is now
Poore Ladie, utterly distracted.

Ros.
Pittie:
Infinite pittie: 'tis a handsom Ladie,
That Mirabel's a Beast, worse then a Monster.
If this affliction work not.

Enter Lelea, Biancha.
Lel.
Are ye readie?
Bellure is comming on, here, hard behind me,
I have no leysure to relate my Fortune.
Onely I wish you may come off as handsomely,
Upon the sign you know what.

Exit.
Res.
Well, well, leave me.

Enter Bellure.
Bel.
How now?

Ros.
Ye are welcome, sir.

Bel.
'Tis well ye have manners:
That Curt'sy again, and hold your Countenance staidly;
That looks too light; take heed: so, sit ye down now,
And to confirm me that your gall is gone,
Your bitterness dispers'd, for so I'll have it;
Look on me stedfastly; and whatsoe'er I say to ye,
Move not, nor alter in your face, ye are gon then;
For if you do express the least distaste,
Or shew an angry wrinkle; mark me, woman,
We are now alone, I will so conjure thee:
The third part of my Execution
Cannot be spoke.

Ros.
I am at your dispose, sir.

Bel.
Now rise, and woo me a little, let me hear that faculty;
But touch me not; nor do not lie, I charge ye.
Begin now.

Ros.
If so mean and poor a Beauty
May ever hope the grace.

Bel.
Ye Cog, ye flatter
Like a lew'd thing, ye lie: may hope that grace?
Why, what grace canst thou hope for? Answer not,
For if thou dost, and lyest again, I'll swindge thee;
Do not I know thee, for a pestilent woman?
A proud at both ends? Be not angry;
Nor stir not o'your life?

Ros.
I am counseld, sir.

Bel.
Art thou not now, (confess, for I'll have the truth out)
As much unworthy of a man of merit,
Or any of ye all? Nay of meer man?
Though he were crooked, cold, all wants upon him;
Nay of any dishonest thing, that bears that figure;
As Devils are of mercy?

Ros.
We are unworthy.

Bel.
Stick to that truth, and it may chance to save thee;
And is it not our bounty that we take ye?
That we are troubled, vex'd, or tortur'd with ye?
Our meer, and special bounty?

Ros.
Yes.

Bel.
Our pitty,
That for your wickedness we swindge ye soundly;
Your stubbornness and stout hearts, we be-labour ye?
Answer, to that?

Ros.
I do confess your pitty.

Bel.
And dost not thou deserve in thine own person?
(Thou Impudent, thou Pert; do not change countenance?)

Ros.
I dare not, sir.

Bel.
For if ye do.

Ros.
I am setled.

Bel.
Thou Wag-tail, Peacock, Puppy; look on me:
I am a Gentleman.

Ros.
It seems no less, sir.

Bel.
And darest thou in thy Surquedry?

Ros.
I beseech ye.
It was my weakness, sir; I did not view ye;
I took not notice of your noble parts;
Nor call'd your person, nor your proper fashion.

Bel.
This is some amendes yet.

Ros.
I shall mend, sir, daily.
And study to deserve.

Bel.
Come a little neerer:
Canst thou repent thy Villany?

Ros.
Most seriously.

Bel.
And be asham'd?

Ros.
I am asham'd.

Bel.
Cry.

Ros.
It will be hard to do, sir.

Bel.
Cry now instantly;
Cry monstrously, that all the Town may hear thee;
Cry seriously; as if thou hadst lost thy Monkey;
And as I like thy Tears.

Enter Lilia and four women laughing.
Ros.
Now.

Bel.
How? How? do ye jear me?
Have ye broke your bounds again Dame?

Ros.
Yes, and laugh at ye;
And laugh most heartily.

Bel.
What are these, Whirl-winds?
Is Hell broke loose, and all the Furies flutter'd?
Am I greas'd once again?

Ros.
Yes indeed are ye;
And once again ye shall be, if ye quarrel:
Do you come to vent your fury on a Virgin?
Is this your manhood, sir?

1. VVo.
Let him do his best:
Let's see the utmost of his indignation:
I long to see him angry: come, proceed, sir.
Hang him, he dares not stir; a man of Timber.

2. Wo.
Come hither to fright Maids, with thy Bul-faces?
To threaten Gentlewomen? Thou a man? A May-pole.
A great dry Pudding.

3. Wo.
Come, come, do your worst, sir;
Be angry if thou dar'st.

Bel.
The Lord deliver me.

4. Wo.
Do but look scurvily upon this Lady,
Or give us one foul word. We are all mistaken;
This is some mighty Dairy-Maid in mans clothes.

Lil.
I am of that minde too.

Bel.
What will they do to me?

Lil.
And hired to come and abuse us; a man has manners;
A Gentleman, Civility, and Breeding:
Some Tinkers Trull with a beard glew'd on.

1. VVo.
Let's search him;
And as we finde him.

Bel.
Let me but depart from ye,
Sweet Christian women.

Lel.
Hear the Thing speak, Neighbours.

Bel.
'Tis but a small request: if ere I trouble ye,
If ere I talk again of beating Women,
Or beating any thing that can but turn to me;
Of ever thinking of a handsom Lady
But vertuously and well: of ever speaking
But to her honor: This I'le promise ye,
I will take Rhubarb; and purge Choler mainly,
Abundantly Ile purge.

Lel.
Ile send ye Brothes, Sir.

Bel.
I will be laugh'd at, and endure it patiently,
I will doe any thing.

Ros.
Ile be your Bayle then:
When ye com next to woo, 'pray ye com not boistrously
And furnish'd like a Bear-ward.

Bel.
No in truth, forsooth.

Ros.
I sented ye long since.

Bel.
I was to blame, sure;
I will appear a Gentleman.

Ros.
'Tis the best for ye,
For a true noble Gentleman's a brave thing;
Upon that hope we quit ye: You fear seriously?

Bel.
Yes truly do I; I confess I fear ye,
And honor ye, and any thing.

Ros.
Farewel then.

Wo.
And when ye come to woo next bring more mercy.

Exeunt.
Bel.
A Dary-Maid? A Tinkers-Trull: Heaven bless me:
Sure if I had provok'd 'em, they had quarter'd me.
Enter two Gentlemen.
I am a most ridiculous Ass, now I perceive it:
A Coward, and a Knave too.

1. Gen.
'Tis the mad Gentleman.
Let's set our Faces right.

Bel.
No, no, laugh at me;
And laugh aloud.

2. Gen.
We are better manner'd, sir.

Bel.
I do deserve it; call me Patch, and Puppy,
And beat me if you please.

1. Gen.
No indeed: We know ye.

Bel.
'Death, do as I would have ye.

2. Gen.
Ye are an Ass then;
A Coxcomb, and a Calf.

Bel.
I am a great Calf:
Kick me a little now: Why, when? Sufficient:
Now laugh aloud, and scorn me; so good buy'ye;
And ever when ye meet me laugh.

Gen.
We will, sir.

Exeunt.