University of Virginia Library

Actus Tertius.

Scæna prima.

Enter the two brothers, 1 Gentleman, with those that were the Maskers, and the Cupid.
1 Gen.
I I heartily commend your project Gentlemen,
'Twas wise and vertuous.

1 Bro.
'Twas for the safety
Of pretious honour sir, which neere bloud binds us to:
He promis'd the poore easie foole there marriage,
There was a good maiden-head lost i'th' beliefe on't,
Beshrew her hasty confidence.

1 Gen.
O no more sir,
You make her weep agen; alas poore Cupid:
Shall she not shift her selfe?

1 Bro.
O by no meanes sir:
We dare not have her seen yet, all the while
She keepes this shape, 'tis but thought device,
And she may follow him so without suspition,
To see if she can draw all his wilde passions,
To one point only, and that's love, the maine point:
So far his highnesse grants, and gave at first,
Large approbation to the quicke conceit,
Which then was quicke indeed.

1 Gent.
You make her blush insooth.

1 Bro.
I feare 'tis more the flagg of shame, then grace sir.

1 Gen.
They both give but one kind of colour sir:
If it be bashfulnesse in that kind taken,
It is the same with grace; and there she weepes agen.
In truth y'are too hard, much, much too bitter sir,
Unlesse you meane to have her weepe her eyes out,
To play a Cupid truly.

1 Bro.
Come, ha' done then:
We should all feare to sin first; for 'tis certaine,
When 'tis once lodg'd, though entertain'd in mirth,
It must be wept out, if it ere come forth.

1 Gent.
Now 'tis so well, I'le leave you.

1 Bro.
Faithfully welcome sir,
Go Cupid to your charge; hee's your owne now;
If he want love, none will be blam'd but you.

Cu.
The strangest marriage, and unfortunat'st Bride
That ever humane memory contain'd;
I cannot be my selfe for't.

Exit.
Clo.
Oh Gentlemen?

Enter the Clowne.
1 Bro.
How now sir, what's the matter?

Clo.
His melancholly passion is halfe spent already,
Then comes his angry fit at the very taile on't,
Then comes in my pain gentlemen; has beate me e'ne to a
Cullis. I am nothing, right worshipfull, but very pap,
And jelly: I have no bones, my body's all one busines,
They talk of ribs, & chines most freely abroad i'th' world,
Why, I have no such thing; who ever lives to see me dead
Gentlemen, shall find me all mummie good to fill galipots
And long dildo glasses: I shall not have a bone to throw
At a dog.

Omnes.
Alas poore vassall, how he goes?

Clo.
O Gentlemen,
I am unjoynted, do but thinke o' that:
My breast is beat into my mawe, that what I eate,
I am faine to take't in all at mouth with spoones;
A lamentable hearing; and 'tis well knowne, my belly
Is driven into my backe.
I earn'd foure Crowns a month, most dearely Gentlemen,
And one he must have when the fit's upon him,
The privy purse allowes it, and 'tis thriftinesse,
He would breake else some fourty pounds in casements,
And in five hundred yeares undo the Kingdome:
I have cast it up to a quarrell.

1 Bro.
There's a fellow kickt about court, I would
He had his place brother, but for one fit of his indignation.

2 Bro.
And suddenly I have thought upon a means for't.

1 Bro.
I Prethee how?

2 Bro.
'Tis but preferring Brother
This stockfish to his service, with a letter
Of commendations, the same way he wishes it,
And then you win his heart: for o' my knowledge
He has laied waite this halfe yeare for a fellow
That will be beaten; and with a safe conscience
We may commend the carriage of this man in't;
Now servants he has kept, lusty tall feeders,
But they have beate him, and turn'd themselves away:
Now one that would endure, is like to stay,
And get good wages of him; and the service too
Is ten times milder Brother, I would not wish it else.
I see the fellow has a sore crush'd body,
And the more need he has to be kickt at ease.

Clo.
I sweet Gentlemen, a kick of ease, send me to such a Master.

2 Bro.
No more I say, we have one for thee, a soft footed Master,
One that weares wooll in's toes.

Clo.
O Gentlemen, soft garments may you weare,
Soft skins may you wed,
But as plump as pillowes, both for white and red.
And now will I reveale a secret to you,
Since you provide for my poore flesh so tenderly,
'Has hir'd meere Rogues, out of his Chamber window,
To beate the Souldier, Mounsier Shamonts Brother.

1 Bro.
That nothing concernes us sir.

Clo.
For no cause Gentlemen,
Unlesse it be for wearing shoulder points,
With longer taggs then his.

2 Bro.
Is not that somewhat?
Birlakin sir, the difference of long taggs,
Has cost many a mans life, and advanc'd other some,
Come follow me.

Clo.
See what a gull am I:
Oh every man in his profession;
I know a thumpe now, as juditiously,
As the proudest he that walkes, I'le except none;
Come to a tagge, how short I fall? I'm gone.

Exeunt
Enter Lapet.
Lap.
I have been ruminating with my selfe,
What honour a man loses by a kicke:
Why, what's a kicke? the fury of a foote,
Whose indignation commonly is stampt
Upon the hinder quarter of a man;
Which is a place very unfit for honour,
The world will confesse so much:
Then what disgrace I pray, does that part suffer
Where honour never comes, I'd faine know that?
This being well forc'd, and urg'd, may have the power
To move most Gallants to take kickes in time,
And spurne out the duelloes out o'th' kingdome,
For they that stand upon their honour most,
When they conceive there is no honour lost,
As by a table that I have invented
For that purpose alone, shall appeare plainly,
Which shewes the vanity of all blowes at large,
And with what ease they may be tooke of all sides,
Numbring but twice one the Letters Patience
From C. P. to E. I doubt not but in small time
To see a dissolution of all bloudshed,
If the Reform'd Kick do but once get up:
For what a lamentable folly 'tis,
If we observ't, for every little justle,
Which is but the ninth part of a sound thump,
In our meeke computation, we must fight forsooth, yes,
If kill, I'm hang'; if I be kil'd my selfe,
I dye for't also: is not this trim wisdome?
Now for the Con, a man may be well beaten,
Yet passe away his fourescore yeares smooth after:
I had a father did it, and to my power
I will not be behind him.

Enter Shamont.
Sha.
O well met.

Lap.
Now a fine punch or two, I looke for't duly.

Sha.
I've been to seeke you.

Lap.
Let me know your lodging sir,
I'le come to you once a day, and use your pleasure sir.

Sha.
I'm made the fittest man for thy Society:
I'le live and dye with thee: come shew me a Chamber;
There is no house but thine, but only thine,
That's fit to cover me: I've tooke a blow sirrah.

Lap.
I would you had indeed: why, you may see sir;
You'l all come to't in time, when my booke's out.

Sha.
Since I did see thee last, I've tooke a blow.

Lap.
Pha sir that's nothing; I ha' tooke fourty since.

Sha.
What? and I charg'd thee thou shouldst not?

Lap.
I sir, you might charge your pleasure,
But they would giv't me, whether I would or no.

Sha.
Oh I walke without my peace, I've no companion now;
Prethee resolve me, for I cannot aske
A man more beaten to experience,
Then thou art in this kind, what manner of blow
Is held the most disgracefull, or distastefull?
For thou dost only censure 'em by the hurt,
Not by the shame they do thee: yet having felt
Abuses of all kindes, thou mayst deliver,
Though't be by chance, the most injurious one.

Lap.
You put me to't sir; but to tell you truth,
Th'are all as one with me, little exception.

Sha.
That little may do much, let's have it from you.

Lap.
With all the speed I may: first then, and formost,
I hold so reverently of the Bastinado sir,
That if it were the dearest friend i'th' world,
I'd put it into his hand.

Sha.
Go too, I'le passe that then.

Lap.
Y'are the more happy sir,
Would I were past it too:
But being accustom'd to't, It is the better carried.

Sha.
Will you forward?

Lap.
Then there's your sowce, your wherrit, and your dowst,
Tuggs on the haire, your bob o'th' lips, a whelpe on't,
I nere could find much difference: Now your thumpe,
A thing deriv'd first from your Hemp-beaters,
Takes a mans wind away, most spitefully:
There's nothing that destroyes a Collicke like it,
For't leaves no wind i'th' body.

Sha.
On sir, on.

Lap.
Pray give me leave, I'm out of breath with thinking ont.

Sha.
This is far off yet.

Lap.
For the twinge byth' nose,
'Tis certainly unsightly, so my tables saies,
But helpes against the head-ache, woundrous strangely.

Sha.
Is't possible?

Lap.
O your crush'd nostrils slakes your opilation
And makes your pent powers flush to wholsome sneezes.

Sha.
I never thought there had been halfe that vertue
In a wrung nose before.

Lap.
O plenitude sir:
Now come we lower, to our moderne kick,
Which has been mightily in use of late,
Since our young men dranke Coltsfoot: and I grant you,
'Tis a most scornefull wrong, cause the foot plaies it;
But marke agen, how we that take't, requite it
With the like scorne, for we receive it backeward;
And can there be a worse disgrace retorted?

Sha.
And is this all?

Lap.
All but a lugg byth' eare,
Or such a trifle.

Sha.
Happy sufferer,
All this is nothing to the wrong I beare:
I see the worst disgrace, thou never felt'st yet;
It is so far from thee, thou canst not thinke on't;
Nor dare I let thee know, it is so abject.

Lap.
I would you would though, that I might prepare for't,
For I shall ha't at one time or another:
If't be a thwacke, I make account of that;
There's no new fashion'd swappe that ere came up yet,
But I've the first on 'em, I thanke 'em for't.

Enter the Lady, and Servants.
Lad.
Hast thou enquir'd?

1 Ser.
But Can heare nothing Madam.

Sha.
If there be but so much substance in thee
To make a shelter for a man disgrac'd,
Hide my departure from that glorious woman
That comes with all perfection about her:
So noble, that I dare not be seene of her,
Since shame tooke hold of me: upon thy life
No mention of me.

Lap.
I'le cut out my tongue first,
Before I'le loose my life, there's more belongs to't.

Lad.
See there's a Gentleman, enquire of him.

2 Ser.
For Mounsier Shamont Madam?

Lad.
For whom else sir?

1 Ser.
Why, this fellow dares not see him.

Lad.
How?

1 Ser.
Shamont Madam?
His very name's worse then a feavour to him,
And when he cries, there's nothing stils him sooner;
Madam, your Page of thirteene is to hard for him,
'Twas tri'd i'th' wood-yard.

Lad.
Alas poore grieved Merit!
What is hecome of him? if he once faile,
Vertue shall find small friendship: farewell then
To Ladies worths, for any hope in men,
He lov'd for goodnesse, not for Wealth, or lust,
After the worlds foule dotage, he nere courted
The body but the beauty of the mind,
A thing which common courtship never thinkes on:
All his affections were so sweet and faire,
There is no hope for fame if he dispaire.

Ex. Lad. and Ser.
Enter the Clowne.
He kicks Lapet.
Lap.
Good morrow to you agen most heartily sir,
Crie you mercy I heard you not, I was somewhat busie.

Clo.
He takes it as familiarly, as an Ave,
Or pretious salutation: I was sicke till I had one,
Because I am so us'd to't.

Lap.
How ever you deserve, your friends & mine, here
Give you large commendations i' this Letter,
They say you will endure well.

Clo.
I'd be loath
To prove 'em liers: I've endur'd as much
As mortall pen and Inke can set me downe for.

Lap.
Say you me so?

Clo.
I know and feele it so sir,
I have it under black and white already;
I need no pen to paint me out.

Lap.
He fits me,
And hits my wishes pat, pat: I was nere
In possibility to be better man'd,
For he's halfe lam'd already, I see't plaine,
But take no notice on't, for feare I make
The Rascall proud, and deare, to advance his wages;
First let me grow into particulars with you;
What have you indur'd of worth? let me heare.

Clo.
Marry sir, I'm almost beaten blind.

Lap.
That's pretty well for a begining,
But many a milhorse has endur'd as much.

Clo.
Shame o' the millers heart for his unkindnesse then.

Lap.
Well sir, what then?

Clo.
I've been twice throwne down staires, just before supper.

Lap.
Puh, so have I, that's nothing.

Clo.
I but sir,
Was yours pray before supper?

Lap.
There thou posest me.

Clo.
I marry, that's it, 't'ad been lesse griefe to me,
Had I but fil'd my bellie, and then tumbled,
But to be flung downe fasting, there's the dolour.

Lap.
It would have griev'd me, that indeed: proceed sir.

Clo.
I have been pluck'd & tugg'd bith' haire o'th' head
About a gallerie, halfe an Acre long.

Lap.
Yes, that's a good one, I must needs confesse,
A principall good one that, an absolute good one,
I have bin trod upon, and spurn'd about,
But never tugg'd byth' haire, I thanke my fates.

Clo.
O 'tis a spitefull paine.

Lap.
Peace, never speake on't,
For putting men in mind on't.

Clo.
To conclude,
I'm bursten sir: my belly will hold no meat.

Lap.
No? that makes amends for all.

Clo.
Unlesse't be puddings,
Or such fast food, any loose thing beguiles me, I'm nere the better for't.

Lap.
Sheepheads will stay with thee?

Clo.
Yes sir, or Chaldrons.

Lap.
Very well sir:
Any your bursten fellowes must take heed of surfets:
Strange things it seemes, you have endur'd;

Clo.
Too true sir.

Lap.
But now the question is, what you will endure
Hereafter in my service?

Clo.
Any thing
That shall be reason sir, for I'm but froath;
Much like a thing new calv'd, or come more nearer sir,
Y'ave seen a Cluster of Frog-spawns in April,
E'ne such a starche am I, as weak and tender
As a green woman yet.

Lap.
Now I know this,
I will be very gently angry with thee,
And kick thee carefully.

Clow.
O I sweet sir.

Lap.
Peace, when thou art offer'd well, lest I begin now.
Your friends and mine have writ here for your truth,
They'll passe their words themselves and I must meet 'em.

Clow.
Then have you all:
Exit.
As for my honesty there is no feare of that,
For I have ne're a whole bone about me.

Exit.
Musick. Enter the passionate Cousen, rudely, and carelesly Apparell'd, unbrac'd, and untrust: The Cupid following.
Cup.
Think upon love, which makes all creatures handsome,
Seemly for ey-sight; goe no so diffusedly,
There are great Ladies purpose sir to visit you.

Pas.
Grand plagues, shut in my casements, that the breaths
Of their Coach-mares reek not into my Nostrills;
Those beasts are but a kinde of Bawdy fore-runners.

Cup.
It is not well with you,
When you speak ill of faire Ladies.

Pas.
Faire mischiefs, give me a nest of Owles, and take 'em;
Happy is he say I, whose window opens
To a browne Bakers chimney, he shall be sure there
To heare the Bird sometimes after twi-light:
What a fine thing 'tis me thinks to have our garments
Sit loose upon us thus, thus carelessely,
It is more manly, and more mortifying;
For w'are so much the readier for our shrouds:
For how ridiculous wer't, to have death come,
And take a fellow pinn'd up like a Mistris?
About his neck a Ruffe, like a pincht Lanthorne,
Which Schoole-boyes make in winter; and his dublet
So close and pent; as if he fear'd one prison
Would not be strong enough, to keep his soule in;
But's Tailor makes another:
And trust me, for I know't when I lov'd Cupid,
He does endure much paine, for the poore praise
Of a neat sitting suit.

Cup.
One may be handsome sir,
And yet not pain'd, nor proud.

Pas.
There you lie Cupid,
As bad as Mercurie: there is no handsomenesse,
But has a wash of Pride and Luxury,
And you goe there too Cupid. Away dissembler,
Thou tak'st the deeds part which befooles us all;
Thy Arrow heads shoot out sinners: hence away,
And after thee Ile send a powerfull charme,
Shall banish thee for ever.

Cup.
Never, never,
I am too sure thine owne.

Exit.
Pas.
Sings.

Exit.
Enter at another doore Laper, The Cupids Brothers watching his comming.
1 Br.
So, so, the Wood-cock's gin'd;
Keep this doore fast brother.

2 Bro.
Ile warrant this.

1 Bro.
Ile goe incense him instantly;
I know the way to't.

2 Bro.
Wil't not be too soon think you,
And make two fits break into one?

1 Bro.
Pah, no, no; The taile of his melancho
Is alwayes the head of his anger, and followes as close,
As the Report followes the powder.

Lap.
This is the appoynted place, and the houre struck,
If I can get security for's truth,
Ile never minde his honesty: poore worme,
I durst lay him by my wife, which is a benefit
Which many masters ha'not: I shall ha' no maid
Now got with childe, but what I get my selfe,
And that's no small felicity: In most places
Th'are got by th' men, and put upon the Masters:
Nor shall I be resisted when I strike,
For he can hardly stand; these are great blessings.

Pas.
I want my food, deliver me a varlet.

within.
Lap.
How now: from whence comes that?

Pas.
I am allow'd a Carcasse to insult on;
Where's the villaine?

Lap.
He meanes not me I hope.

Pas.
My maintenance rascals; my Bulk, my exhibition.

Lap.
Blesse us all,
What name's are these? would I were gone agen.

The passionate man enters in furie, with a Truncheon,
He Sings:
A curse upon thee for a slave,
Art thou here, and heard'st me rave?
Fly not sparkles from mine eye,
To shew my indignation nye?
Am I not all foame, and fire?
With voice as hoarse, as a Towne-crier?
How my back opes and shuts together,
VVith furie, as old mens with weather?
Could'st thou not heare my teeth knash hither?

Lap.
No truely sir, I thought t'had been a Squirrell,
Shaving a Hazle-nut.

Pas.
Death, hell, fiends, and darknesse,
I will thrash thy mangy carcasse.

Lap.
O sweet sir.

Pas.
There cannot be too many Tortures.
Spent upon those louzie Quarters.

Lap.
Hold, oh.

Falls down for dead.
Pas.
Sings again.

Exit.
Lap.
May I open mine eyes yet, and safely peep?
Ile trie a groane first—oh—Nay then hee's gone.
There was no other policy but to dye,
He would ha' made me else. Ribs are you sore?
I was ne're beaten to a tune before.

Enter the two Brothers.
1 Bro.
Lapet.

Lap.
Agen?

Falls againe.
1 Bro.
Look, look, hee's flat agen,
And stretched out like a Coarse a handfull longer
Then he walks trust me brother. Why Lapet.
I hold my life we shall not get him speak now.
Monsieur Lapet; it must be a privie token,
If any thing fetch him, hee's so far gone.
We come to passe our words for your mans truth.

Lap.
O gentlemen y'are welcom: I have been thrasht i'faith.

2 Bro.
How? thrasht sir?

Lap.
Never was Shrove-tuesday Bird
So cudgel'd gentlemen.

1 Bro.
Pray how? by whom sir?

Lap.
Nay that I know not.

1 Bro.
Not who did this wrong?

Lap.
Only a thing came like a walking song.

1 Bro.
What beaten with a Song?

Lap.
Never more tightly, gentlemen:
Such crotchets happen now and then, methinks,
He that endures well, of all water's drinks.

Exeunt.