 | The Honest mans Fortune |  |
Actus Quintus.
Scæna prima.
Enter Montague and Charlote.Char.
Well now I am sure you are mine.
Mont.
I am sure I am glad
I have one to own then; you'l finde me honest
As these daies go, enough; poore without question,
Which beggars hold a vertue; give me meat, and I
Shall do my worke, else knock my shooes off,
And turn me out again.
You are a merry fellow.
Mont.
I have no great cause.
Char.
Yes thy love to me.
Mont.
That's as we make our game.
Char.
Why you repent then.
Mon.
Faith no wors then I am I cannot be;
Much better I expect not: I shall love you,
And when you bid me goe to bed, obey,
Lie still or move, as you shall minister,
Keep a foure-nobles Nag, and a black
Merling, learn to love Ale, and play at two-hand Irish,
And there's then all I aime at.
Char.
Nay sweet fellow, Ile make it something better.
Mont.
If you doe, you'l make me worse:
Now I am poore, and willing to doe wel,
Hold me in that course, of all the Kings creatures,
I hate his coyne, keep me from that, and save me;
For if you chance out of your housewifery
To leave a hundred pound or two, bestow it
In Plum-broth ere I know it, else I take it;
Seeke out a hundred men that want this money,
Share it among 'em, they'l cry noble Montague,
And so I stand again at livery.
Char.
You have pretty fancies sir, but married once,
This charity will fall home to your selfe.
Mont.
I would it would, I am afraid my loosenesse
Is yet scarce stopt, though it have nought to worke on
But the meere aire of what I have had.
Char.
Pretty.
Mont.
I wonder sweet heart why you'l marry me,
I can see nothing in my selfe deserves it,
Unlesse the handsome wearing of a band,
For that's my stocke now, or a paire of garters,
Necessity will not let me loose.
Char.
I see sir a great deale more, a hansome man, a husband
To make a right good woman truely happy.
Mont.
Lord, where are my eyes? either you are foolish
As wenches once a yeere are, or far worse,
Extreamly vertuous, can you love a poore man
That relies on cold meat and cast stockings,
One onely suit to his backe, which now is mewing?
But what will be the next coate will pose Tristram.
If I should leavy from my friends a fortune:
I could not raise ten groats to pay the Priest now.
Char.
Ile do that duty; tis not means nor money
Makes me pursue your love; were your mind bankrupt,
I would never love you.
Enter Lamica.
Mont.
Peace wench, here's my Lady.
Lam.
Nay never shrinke i'th wetting, for my presence;
D'ee finde her willing Montague?
Mont.
Willing Madam?
Lam.
How dainty you make of it, doe not I know
You two love one another?
Mont.
Certaine Madam, I thinke ye'ave revelations of these matters:
Your Ladyship cannot tell me when I kist her.
Lam.
But she can, sir.
Mont.
But she will not Madam;
For when they talke once, tis like fairy-money,
They get no more close kisses.
Lam.
Thou art wanton.
Mont.
God knows I need not, yet I would be lusty:
But—my provender scarce pricks me.
Lam.
It shall be mended Montague, I am glad you are
grown so merry.
Mont.
So am I too Madam.
Lam.
You two will make a pretty hansome consort.
Mont.
Yes Madam, if my fiddle faile me not.
Lam.
Your Fiddle? why your Fiddle? I warrant thou
meanest madly:
Mont.
Can you blame me? alasse I am in love.
Char.
Tis very well sir.
Lam.
How long have you been thus?
Mont.
How thus in love?
Lam.
You are very quick sir: no, I mean thus pleasant.
Mont.
—Ever since I was poore.
Lam.
A little wealth would change you then.
Mont.
Yes Lady into another suit, but never more
Into another man: Ile bar that mainly,
The wealth I get henceforward shal be charm'd
For ever hurting me, Ile spend it fasting:
As I live noble Lady there is nothing
I have found directly cures the melancholy,
But want and wedlocke; when I had store of money
I simper'd sometime, and spoke wondrous wise,
But never laught out-right; now I am empty
My heart sounds like a bell, and strikes at both sides.
Lam.
You are finely temper'd Montague.
Mont.
Pardon Lady, if any way my free mirth have offended,
Twas meant to please you: if it prove too sawsie,
Give it a frown, and I am ever silenc'd.
Lam.
I like it passing well; pray follow it:
This is my day of choice, and shall be yours too,
Twere pity to delay ye: call to the Steward,
And tell him tis my pleasure he should give you
500 Crowns: make your selfe hansome Montague,
Let none weare better cloathes, tis for my credit;
But pray be merry still.
Mont.
If I be not, and make a foole of twice as many hundreds,
Clap me in Canvas Lady.
Exeunt.
Enter La-poope, Laverdine, and Malycorne.
Lav.
I am strangely glad, I have found the mystery
Of this disguised boy out: I ever trusted
It was a woman, and how happily
I have found it so; and for my selfe, I am sure
One that would offer me a thousand pound now
(And that's a pretty sum to make one stagger)
In ready Gold for this concealment, could not
Buy my hope of her, she's a dainty wench,
And such a one I finde I want extreamly
To bring me into credit: beauty does it.
Mal.
Say we should all meach here, and stay the feast,
now what can the worst be? we have plai'd the knaves,
that's without question.
La-p.
True, and as I take it this is the first truth
We told these ten yeeres, and for any thing
I know may be the last: but grant we are knaves,
Both base and beastly knaves—
Mal.
Say so then.
Lav.
Well.
La-p.
And likewise let it be considered, we have wrongd
And most maliciously, this Gentlewoman,
We cast to stay with, what must we expect now?
Mal.
I there's the point, we would expect good eating.
La-p.
I know we would, but we may find good beating.
Lav.
You say true Gentlemen, and by—
Though I love meat as well as any man,
I care not what he be, if a eate a Gods name;
Such crab-sauce to my meat wil turn my pallate.
Mal.
There's all the hazzard, for the frozen Montague
Has now got spring againe, and warmth in him,
And without doubt dares beat us terribly.
For not to mint the matter, we are cowards,
And have and shall be beaten when men please
To call us into cudgelling.
La-p.
I feele we are very prone that way.
Lav.
The sonnes of Adam.
Now here then rests the state o'th question?
Whether we yeild our bodies for a dinner
To a sound dog-whip, for I promise ye
If men be given to correction,
We can expect no lesse, or quietly
Take a hard Egge or two, and ten mile hence
Baite in a ditch, this we may do securely;
For to stay here about will be all one,
If once our morall mischiefes come in memory.
Mal.
But pray ye hear me, is not this the day
The Virgin Lady doth elect her husband?
Lav.
The dinner is to that end.
Mal.
Very well then, say we all stay, and say we all
scape this whipping, and be well entertained, and one
of us carry the Lady.
La-p.
'Tis a seemly saying, I must confesse, but if we stay, how fitly
We may apply it to our selves (i'th end)
Will aske a Christian feare; I cannot see
If I say true, what spetiall ornaments
Of art or nature, lay aside our lying
Whoring and drinking, which are no great vertues,
We are endued withall to win this Lady.
Mal.
Yet women go not by the best parts ever; that I
have found directly.
Lav.
Why should we fear then? they choose men
As they feed; some times they settle
Upon a white broth'd face, a sweet smooth gallant,
And him they make an end of in a night;
Sometimes a Goose, sometimes, a grosser meat,
A rump of beef will serve 'em at some season,
And fill their bellies too: though without doubt
They are great devourers: stock fish is a dish,
If it be well drest, for the tufnesse sake
Wil make the proud'st of 'em long and leap for't.
They'l run mad for a pudding ere they'l starve,
La-p.
For my own part I care not, come what can come,
If I be whipt, why so be it; if cudgel'd,
I hope I shall out live it, I am sure
'Tis not the hundreth time I have bin serv'd so,
And yet I thank God I am here.
Mal.
Here's resolution.
La-p.
A little patience, and a rotten Apple
Cures twenty worse diseases; what say you sir?
Lav.
Marry I say sir, if I had bin acquainted
With lamming in my youth, as you have bin
With whipping, and such benefits of nature,
I should do better: as I am, i'le venture,
And if it be my luck to have the Lady,
I'le use my fortune modestly; if beaten
You shall not hear a word, one I am sure of,
And if the worst fall she shall be my physick.
Lets go then, and a merry winde be with us.
Mal.
Captaine your shooes are old, pray put 'em off,
And let one fling 'em after us; be bold sirs,
And howosever our fortune fals, lets beare
An equall burden; if there be an odde lash,
Wee'l part it afterwards.
La-p.
I am arm'd at all points.
Exeunt
Enter foure serving in a Banquet.
1.
Then my Lady will have a bedfellow to night.
2.
So she sayes, heaven what a danty armefull shall he
enjoy that has the launching of her, what a fight shee'l
make.
3.
I mary boyes, there will be sport indeed, there will
be grapling, she has a murderer lies in her prow,
4.
Who dost thou think shall have her of thy conscience,
thou art a wise man.
3.
If she go the old way, the way of lot, the longest cut
sweeps all without question?
1.
She has lost a friend of me else; what think yee
of the Courtier.
2.
Hang him hedgehogge, h'as nothing in him but a
piece of Euphues, and twenty dozen of twelve penny
riband all about him, he is but one Pedlers shop of gloves
and garters, pickteeth and pomander.
3.
The Courtier! marry God blesse her Steven, she is
not mad yet, she knowes that trindle tayle too well, he's
crest falne, and pinbuttock't, with leaping Landresses.
4.
The Merchant sure shee will not be so base to
have him.
1.
I hope so Robin, hee'l sell us all to the Moors to
make mummy; nor the Captaine.
4.
Who Potgun, that's a sweet youth indeed, will
he stay thinke ye?
3.
Yes, without question, and have half din'd too ere
the grace be done; he's good for nothing in the world
but eating, lying and sleeping; what other men devour
in drink, he takes in Pottage, they say has bin at
Sea, a Herring fishing, for without doubt he dares not
hayle an Ele-boate, ith way of War.
2.
I think so, they would beate him off with
Butter.
3.
When he brings in a prize, unlesse it be Cockles,
or Callis sand to scoure with, I'le renounce my five
mark a year, and all the hidden art I have in carving, to
teach young Birds to whistle Walsingham; leave him
to the lime boates; now, what think you of the brave
Amiens?
1.
That's a thought indeed.
2.
I marry ther's a person fit to feed upon a dish so
danty, and hee'l do't I warrant him ith nick-boyes, has
a body world without end.
4.
And such a one my Lady will make no little off;
but is not Montague married to day?
3.
Yes faith, honest Montague must have his bout
too.
2.
Hee's as good a lad as ever turnd a trencher; must
we leave him?
3.
Hee's to good for us Steven, I'le give him health
to his good luck to night ith old Beaker, and it shall be
sack too.
4.
I must have a Garter; and boyes I have bespoke, a
a Posset, some body shall give me thanks for't, 'tas a few
toyes in't will rase commotions in a bed lad.
1.
Away; my Lady.
Exeunt
Enter Orleance, and his Lady arme in arme, Amiens, Lamira, Charlote, like a Bride, Montague brave, Laverdine, Longavile Dubois, Mallycorn, La-Poope.
Lam.
Stur your selves noble Lords and Gentlemen,
You know your places; many royall welcomes
I give your grace; how lovely shewes this change?
My house is honor'd in this reconcilement.
Orl.
Thus Madam must you do, my Lady now shall see
You made a Woman;
And give you some short lessons for your voyage.
Take her instructions Lady, she knowes much.
Lam.
This becomes you sir.
La.
My Lord must have his will.
Orl.
Tis all I can do now sweet heart, faire Lady;
This to your happy choyce brother Amiens,
Ami.
I'le pledge you.
Orl.
And with my heart.
Ami.
With all my love I take it.
Lam.
Noble Lords I am proud ye have done this day,
so much content, and me such estimation that this hour
For so I know ye mean it.
Ami.
I do Lady.
Orl.
And I my Lord.
Omnes.
Y'ave done a work of honor.
Ami.
Give me the Cup, where this health stops, let
That man be either very sick, or very simple;
Or I am very angry; sir, to you;
Madam me thinks this Gentleman might sit to;
He would become the best on's.
Orl.
Pray sit down sir, I know the Lady of the feast
expects not this day so much old custom.
Lam.
Sit down Mountague; nay never blush for the
matter.
Mon.
Noble Madam, I have too reasons against it, and
I dare not; duty to you first, as you are my Lady, and I
your poorest servant; next the custome of this dayes
ceremony.
Lam.
As you are my servant, I may command you then.
Mon.
To my life Lady.
Lam.
Sit down, and here, i'le have it so.
Ami.
Sit down man, never refuse so faire a Ladies
offer.
Mont.
It is your pleasure Madam, not my pride,
And I obey; ile pledge yee now my Lord, Mounsier
Longavile.
Lon.
I thank you sir.
Mon.
This to my Lady, and her faire choyce to day,
and happinesse.
Lon.
Tis a faire health, i'le pledge you though I
sinke for't.
Lam.
Montague you are too modest; come i'le adde
a little more wine t'ee, 'twill make you merry, this to
the good I wish.—
Mont.
Honord Lady, I shall forget my selfe with
this great bounty.
Lami.
You shall not sir; give him some Vine.
Ami.
By heaven you are a worthy woman, and that
Man is blest can come neer such a Lady.
Lami.
Such a blessing wet weather washes.
Mont.
At all, I will not go a lip lesse my Lord.
Orl.
Tis well cast sir.
Mal.
If Montague get more Wine, we are like to heare
on't.
Lav.
I do not like that sitting there.
Mal.
Nor I, me thinks he looks like a Judge.
La-p.
Now have I a kinde a grudging of a beating on
me, I fear my hot fit.
Mal.
Drink apace, ther's nothing allays a cudgell
like it.
Lami.
Montague, now I'le put my choyce to you; who
do you hold in all this honor'd company a husband
fit to enjoy thy Lady? speak directly.
Mont.
Shall I speak Madam?
Lami.
Montague, you shall.
Mont.
Then as I have a soule i'le speak my conscience,
Give me more wine, in vino veritas,
Here's to my self, and Montague have a care.
Lami.
Speak to th'cause.
Mont.
Yes, Madam; first i'le begin to thee.
Lav.
Have at us.
La-p.
Now for a Psalme of mercy.
Mont.
You good Mounsier, you that bely the noble
Name of Courtier, and think your claime good here,
hold up your hand; your VVorship is endited here, for
a vaine glorious foole.
Lav.
Good, oh sir.
Mont.
For one whose wit
Lies in a ten pound wastcoat, yet not warme;
Ye have travel'd like a Fidler to make faces,
And brought home nothing but a case of tooth-picks.
You would be married, and no lesse then Ladies,
And of the best sort can serve you; thou silke worm
What hast thou in thee to deserve this woman?
Name but the poorest piece of man, good manners,
Ther's nothing sound about thee, faith thou'ast none,
It lies pawn'd at thy silke mans, for so much lace;
Thy credit which is worse cannot redeem it,
Thy cloaths are all the soule thou hast, for so
Thou sav'st them hansome for the next great tilting
Let who wil take the t'other, thou wert never christen'd
Upon my conscience (but in barbers water)
Thou art never out o'th basen, thou art rotten,
And if thou darst tell truth, thou wilt confesse it;
—thy skin
Looks of a Chestnut colour, greas'd with Amber
All women that on earth do dwell thou lov'st,
Yet none that understand love thee again,
But those that love the Spittle, get thee home
Poor painted butter fly, thy summers pa'st;
Go sweat and eat dry Mutton, thou mayst live
To do so well yet; a bruis'd Chamber Maide
May fall upon thee, and advance thy follies.
You have your sentence; now it followes Captaine,
I treat of you.
La-p.
Pray God I may deserve it.
Orl.
Beshrow my heart he speaks, plaine.
Ami.
That's plain dealing.
Mont.
You are a rascall Captaine.
La-p.
A fine calling.
Mont.
A water coward.
Ami.
He would make a prety stuffe.
Mont.
Nay I speak freely Madam.
Lami.
Her's none ties you.
Mont.
Why should'st thou dare come hither with a thought
To finde a wife here fit for thee? are all
Thy single money whores that fed on Carrots,
And fild the high grasse with familiars
Falne of to footmen? prethee tell me truly,
For now I know thou dar'st not lie, couldst thou not
Wish thy selfe beaten well with all thy heart now,
And out of paine? say that I broke a rib,
Or cut thy nose off, wert not mercifull for this ambition?
La-p.
Do your pleasure sir, beggars must not be choosers.
Orl.
He longs for beating.
Mon.
But that I have nobler thoughts possesse my soule,
Then such brown bisket, such a peice of dog-fish,
Such a most mangy Mackrell eater as thou art
That dares do nothing that belongs toth'Sea,
But spue, and catch rats, and fear men of war,
Though thou hast nothing in the world to loose
Abord thee, but one piece of beefe, one Musket
Without a cock for peace sake, and a pitch barrell,
I'le tell thee if my time were not more pretious
Then thus to loose it, I would rattle thee,
It may be beat thee, and thy pure fellow,
The Merchant there of Catskins, till my words,
Or blowes, or both, made ye two branded wretches
To all the world hereafter; you would faine to
Venture your bils of lading for this Lady;
Of rotten Figs good, Godson, would you not sir?
Or a Parrat that speaks high Dutch? can all thou ever saw'st
Of thine own fraughts from Sea, or cosonage
(At which thou art as expert as the devill)
Nay sell thy soul for wealth to, as thou wilt do,
Forfeit thy friends, and raise a mint of Money,
Make thee dream all these double could procure
A kisse from this good Lady? can'st thou hope
She would lie with such a nook of hell as thou art,
And hatch young Merchant-furies? oh ye dog-bolts
That fear no God but Dunkirks, I shall see you
Serve in a lowsy Lime boat, ere I die,
For mouldy cheese and butter Billingsgate
Would not endure, or bring in rotten Pippins
To cure blew eyes, and swear they came from China.
Lami.
Vex 'em no more, alas they shake:
Mont.
Down quickly on your marrow bones and
thank this Lady.
And such delights for such knaves; but fear still;
'Twill be revenge enough, to keep you waking.
Ye have no minde of Marriage, ha' ye?
La-p.
Surely no great mind now.
Mont.
Nor you.
Mal.
Nor I, I take it.
Mont.
Two eager sutors.
Lav.
Troth tis wonderous hot, God blesse us from him
Lami.
You have told me Montague
Who are not fit to have me, let me know
The man you would point out for me.
Mont.
There he sits; my Lord of Amiens, Madam, is
my choyce, hee's noble every way, and worthy a wife
with all the dowries of—
Ami.
Do you speak sir out of your friendship to me?
Mont.
Yes, my Lord, and out of truth, for I could never
flatter.
Ami.
I would not say how much I owe you for it,
For that were but a promise, but Ile thank ye,
As now I find you, in despite of fortune,
A faire and noble Gentleman.
Lami.
My Lords I must confesse the choyce this man hath made
Is every way a great one, if not too great,
And no way to be slighted: yet because
We love to have our own eyes, sometimes now
Give me a little liberty to see,
How I could fit my selfe, if I were put to't.
Ami.
Madam we must.
Lami.
Are yee all agreed?
Omnes.
We be?
Lami.
Then as I am a maid, I shall choose here.
Montague, I must have thee.
Mont.
Why Madam I have learnt to suffer more
then you can (out of pitty) mock me with this way
especially.
Lami.
Thou think'st I jest now;
But by the love I bear thee, I will have thee.
Mont.
If you could be so weak, to love a falne man,
He must deserve more then I ever can,
Or ever shall (deer Lady;) look but this way
Upon that Lord and you will tell me then
Your eyes are no true choosers of good men.
Ami.
Do you love him truely?
Lam.
Yes my Lord, I will obey him truly, for I'le
marry him, and justly thinke he that has so well serv'd
mee with his obedience being borne to greatnesse,
must use mee nobly of necessity when I shall serve him.
Ami.
'Twere a deepe sin to crosse ye, noble Montague,
I wish ye all content, and am as happy
In my friends good as it were meerly mine.
Mont.
Your Lordship does ill to give up your right;
I am not capable of this great goodnesse,
There sits my wife that holds my troth.
Cha.
I'le end all, I wooed you for my Lady, and
now give up my title, alas poor wench, my aimes are
lower far.
Mont.
How's this sweet heart?
Lami.
Sweet heart tis so, the drift was mine to hide
My purpose till it struck home.
Omnes.
God give you joy.
Lami.
Prethee leave wondring, by this kisse i'le have
thee.
Mont.
Then by this kisse, and this i'le ever serve ye.
Long.
This Gentleman and I sir must needs hop once
more to follow yee.
Mont.
As friends and fellows, never as servants more.
Long., Dub.
You make us happy.
Orl.
Friend Montague, ye have taught mee so much
honor, I have found a fault in my self but thus I'le purge
my conscience of it, the late land I took by false play,
from you with as much Contrition, and entirenesse of
affection to this most happy day again, I render; be
Master of your own, for get my malice, and make mee
worthy of your love, L. Montague.
Mont.
You have won me and honor to your name.
Mal.
Since your Lordship has begun good deeds, wee'l
follow; good sir forgive us, we are now those men
fear you for goodnes sake; those sums of money unjustly
we detaine from you, on your pardon shall bee restord
again, and we your servants.
La-p.
You are very forward sir, it seems you have money,
I pray you lay out, i'le pay you or pray for you, as the
Sea works.
Lav.
Their pennance sir i'le undertake, so please ye
To grant me on concealement.
Long.
Right courtier, still a begging.
Mont.
What is it sir?
Lav.
A Gentlewoman.
Mont.
In my gift?
Lav.
Yes sir, in yours.
Mont.
Why bring her forth and take her.
Lami.
What wench would he have?
Mont.
Any wench I think.
Enter Laverdine and Veramour, like a Woman.
Lav.
This is the Gentlewoman.
Mont.
'Tis my Page sir.
Uer.
No sir, I am a poor disguis'd Lady?
That like a Page have followed you full long for love god-wot.
Omnes.
A Lady—Laverdine—yes, yes, tis a Lady.
Mont.
It may be so, and yet we have laine together,
But by my troth I never found her, Lady.
L Orl.
Why wore you boyes cloathes?
Vir.
I'le tell you Madam,
I took example by 2 or 3. playes, that methought
Concernd me.
Mont.
Why made you not me acquainted with it.
Ver.
Indeed sir I knew it not my selfe,
Untill this Gentleman opend my dull eyes,
And by perswasion made me see it.
Ami.
Could his power in words make such a change?
Uer.
Yes, as truly woman as your selfe my Lord.
Lav.
Why but hark you, are not you a woman?
Ver.
If hands and face make it not evident, you shall see more.
Mal.
Breeches, breeches, Laverdine.
La-p.
Tis not enough, women may wear those cases.
Search further Courtier.
Ha, ha, ha.
La-p.
Oh thou freshwater Gudgeon, wouldst thou come
To point of Marriage with an Ignoramus?
Thou shouldst have had her urin to the doctors,
The foolishest Phisitian could have made plaine
The liquid Epicæne; a blind man by the hand
Could have discoverd the ring from the stone.
Boy, come, to Sea with me, ile teach thee to climb,
And come down by the rope, nay to eate Rats.
Ver.
I shall devour my Master before the prison then,
Sir, I have began my Trade.
Mal.
Trade? to the Citie child, a flatcap will become thee.
Mont.
Gentlemen I beseech you molest your selves no further,
For his preferment it is determin'd.
Lav.
I am much ashamed, and if my cheek
Gives not satisfaction, break my head.
Mont.
Your shame's enough sir.
Ami.
Montague, much joy attend thy marriage Bed;
By thy example of true goodnesse, envie is exil'd,
And to all honest men that truth intend,
I wish good luck, faire fate be still thy friend.
Exeunt.
| The Honest mans Fortune | |