 | A New Wonder, A Woman Never Vext |  |
Actus Primus.
Enter Old Foster, Alderman Bruyne and two Factors, Richard, and George.Old Foster.
This ayre has a sweet a breath Master Bruyne.
Br.
Your partner Sir.
O. Fost.
I, and in good I hope, this halcion gale
Playes the lewd wanton with our dancing sayles,
And makes 'm big with vaporous envy.
Br.
Tis no more yet, but then our fraught is full
When shee returnes laden with merchandize
And safe deliver'd with our customage.
O. Fost.
Such a delivery heaven send us,
But time must ripen it? are our accounts made even?
Geor.
To the quantity of a penny, if his agree with mine:
What's yours Richard?
Ric.
Five hundred sixty pounds;
2
Geor.
68. peices at B, ss, and l; 57. at l, ss, and o.
Ric.
Iust; leade, xix tunne.
O. Fost.
As evenly we will lay our bosomes as our bottomes
With love as merchandise, and may they both increase
To infinites.
Br.
Especially at home; that golden traffique love
Is scantier far than gold; and one myne of that
More worth than twenty Argoseyes
Of the worlds richest treasure.
O. Fost.
Here you shall dig, and finde your lading.
Br.
Here's your exchange; and as in love
So wee'le participate in merchandize.
O. Fost.
The merchants casualty:
We alwayes venture on uncertaine ods,
Altho we beare hopes Embleme the anchor with us.
The winde brought it, let the wind blow't away agen;
Should not the Sea sometimes be partner with us
Our wealth would swallow us.
Br.
A good resolve: but now I must be bold
To touch you with somewhat that concernes you.
O. Fost.
I could prevent you; is't not my unthrifty brother?
Br.
Nay, leave out the adjective (unthrifty,)
Your brother Sir, tis he that I would speake of.
O. Fost.
He cannot be nam'd without unthrifty Sir,
Tis his proper Epithite, would you conceite
But what my love has done for him
So oft, so chargeable, and so expensive,
You would not urge another addition.
Br.
Nay Sir, you must not stay at quantity
Till he forfeit the name of brother
Which is inseparable, hee's now in Ludgate Sir,
And part of your treasure lyes buryed with him.
O. Fost.
I, by vulgar blemish; but not by any good account;
There let him howle, tis the best stay he hath;
For nothing but a prison can containe him
So boundlesse is his ryot; twice have I raysde
3
But with as fruitlesse charity, as if I had throwne
My safe landed substance backe into the Sea,
Or dresse in pitty some corrupted Iade,
And he should kick me for my courtesie.
I am sure you cannot but heare, what quicke-
Sands he findes out, as Dice, Cards, Pigeon-holes,
And which is more, should I not restraine it,
Hee'd make my state his prodigality.
Br.
All this may be Sir, yet examples dayly shew
To our eyes, that Prodigalls returne at last
And the lowdest roarer, (as our Citty phrase is)
Will speake calme and smooth; you must helpe with hope Sir,
Had I such a brother, I should thinke that heaven had
Made him as an instrument for my best charity
To worke upon; This is a Maxime sure, Some
Are made poore, that rich men by giving may
Encrease their store. Nor thinke Sir, that I doe
Tax your labors and meane my selfe for to stand
Idlely by, for I have vowd if heaven but blesse
This voyage now abroad, to leave some
Memorable relique after me, that shall
Preserve my name alive till Doomesday.
O. Fost.
I Sir, that worke is good, and therein could I
Ioyne with your good intents, but to releeve
A wast-good, a spendthrift.—
Br.
O no more, no more good Sir.
O. Fost.
Sirra, when saw you my son Robert?
Ric.
This morning Sir, he said he would goe visit his Vncle
O. Fost.
I pay for their meetings I'me sure; that boy
Makes prize of all his fingers light on
To releeve his unthrifty Vncle.
Br.
Does he rob, introth I commend him.
O. Fost.
Tis partly your fault, Sirra you see't, and suffer it.
Ric.
Sir, mine's a servants duty, his a sonnes,
Nor know I better how to expresse my love
Vnto your selfe, than by loving your son.
4
By concealing of his pilferings.
Ric.
I dare not call them so; he is my second Master,
And methinkes tis far above my limits
Either to checke, or to complaine of him.
Br.
Gramercy Dick, thou mak'st a good construction,
And your son Robert a naturall Nephewes part.
To releeve his poore Vncle.
O. Fost.
Tis in neither well; Sir, for note but the
Condition of my estate; I'me lately marryed
To a wealthy Widow from whom my substance
Chiefely does arise, she has observed this in her
Son in law, often complaines and grudges at it,
And what foule broyles such civill discords bring,
Few married men are ignorant of:
Enter Mistris Foster.
Nay will you see a present proofe of it.
M. Fost.
Shall I not live to breath a quiet houre?
I would I were a beggar with content
Rather than thus be thwarted for mine owne.
O. Fost.
Why what's the matter Woman?
M. Fost.
I'le rowse 'm up, tho you regard not of my just complaints
Neither in love to me, nor preserving me from others
Injuries, both which y'are tyed to, by all the rightfull
Lawes heavenly or humane, but Ile complaine
Sir, where I will be heard.
O. Fost.
Nay, thou'lt be heard too farre.
M. Fost.
Nay Sir, I will be heard; some awkeward starre
Threw out his unhappy fire at my conception
And twill never quench while I have heate in me:
Would I were cold, there would be bonefires made
To warme defame, my death would be a Iubilee to some.
O. Fost.
Why Sir, how should I minister remedy and know not the cause.
Br.
Mother a pearle, woman, shew your husband the cause,
M. Fost.
Had he bin a husband Sir, I had had no cause to
Complaine, I threw downe at his feete
5
He did not marry me for loves sake nor for pitty,
But love to that I had, he now neglects the love
He had before; A prodigall is suffer'd to lay waste
Those worldly blessings, which I long enclosde,
Intending for good uses.
O. Fost.
That's my sonne.
M. Fost.
I, thou knowest it well enough, hee's the Conduit-pipe
that throwes it forth into the common shore.
O. Fost.
And the other's my brother.
M. Fost.
You may well shame, as I doe grieve the kindred,
But I'de make the one a stranger, the other a servant,
No son, nor brother; For they deserve neither
Of those offices.
O. Fost.
Why did I ever cherish him, have not I threatned
Him with disinheritance for this disorder?
M. Fost.
Why doe you not performe it?
O. Fost.
The other's in Ludgate.
M. Fost.
No; hee's in my house, approving to my face
The charitable office of his kinde Nephew,
Who with his pilfering purloind from me,
Has set him at liberty; if this may be suffer'd
Ile have no eyes to see.
O. Fost.
Prethee content thy selfe; Ile see a present
Remedy; sirra, go call 'm in; this worthy
Gentleman shall know the cause, and censure
For us both with equity.
Br.
Nay good Sir, let not me be so imployd,
Enter Robin and Stephen Foster.
For I shall favour one for pitty, the other for your loves sake.
O. Fost.
Now Sir, are all my words with you
So light esteem'd that they can
Take no hold upon your duty?
Rob.
Misconster not, I beseech you.
M. Fost.
Nay, heele approve his good deeds I warrant you.
O. Fost.
And you Sir.
Step.
Well Sir.
6
I had thought you had bin in Ludgate Sir.
Step.
Why, you see where I am Sir.
O. Fost.
Why, where are you Sir?
Step.
In debt Sir, in debt.
O. Fost.
Indeed that's a place you can hardly be remou'd
From, but this is not a place fit for one in
Debt; how came you out of prison Sirra?
Step.
As I went into prison Sirra, by the keepers.
O. Fost.
This was your worke to let this bandog loose.
Rob.
Sir, it was my duty to let my Vncle loose.
O. Fost.
Your duty did belong to me, and I did not command it.
Rob.
You cannot make a separation Sir, betwixt
The duty that belongs to me, and love unto
My Vncle, aswell you may bid me love my
Maker, and neglect the Creature, which he
Hath bid me love; if man to man joyne not
A love on earth, they love not heaven, nor
Him that dwells above it, such is my duty
A strong Corelative unto
My Vncle: why, he's halfe your selfe.
Br.
Beleeve me Sir, he has answered you well.
O. Fost.
He has not worthy Sir, but to make voyde
That false construction; here I disclayme
The title of a brother; and by that disclayme
Hast thou lost thy childes part; be thou engag'd
For any debts of his, in prison rot with him;
My goods shall not purchase such
Fruitlesse recompence.
Step.
Then th'art a scurvy father, and a filthy brother.
M. Fost.
I, I, Sir, your tongue cannot defame his reputation
Step.
But yours can, for all the City reports what
An abominable scould he has got to his wife.
O. Fost.
If ere I know thou keep'st him company,
Ile take my blessing from thee whil'st I live,
And that which after me should blesse thy estate.
Step.
And Ile proclayme thy basenesse to the world;
7
To sing thy churlish cruelty.
O. Fost.
Tut, tut, these are bables.
Ste.
Each Festivall day I'l come unto thy house,
And I will pisse upon thy threshold.
O. Fost.
You must be out of prison first Sir.
Ste.
If e'r I live to see thee Shreiffe of London,
I'l gild thy painted postes cum privilegio,
And kick thy Serjeants.
Rob.
Nay, good Vncle.
Ste.
Why, I'l beg for thee, Boy;
I'l breake this leg, and bind it up againe,
To pull out pitty from a stony brest,
Rather than thou shalt want.
O. Fost.
I, doe; let him seare up his arme, and scarfe it up
With two yards of rope; counterfeit two villaines;
Beg under a hedge and share your bounty: but come
Not neare my house, nor thou in's company, if thoul't obey;
There's punishment, for thee; for thee there's worse;
The losse of all that's mine, with my deare curse.
Exeunt.
Manent. Stephen and Robin.
Ste.
Churle, Dog, you churlish rascally miser.
Rob.
Nay, good Vncle, throw not foule language;
This is but heate Sir, and I doubt not but
To coole this rage with my obedience:
But Vncle, you must not then heape on such fuell.
Ste.
Cuz, I grieve for thee, that thou hast undergone
Thy fathers curse, for love unto thy Vncle.
Rob.
Tut, that bond shall ne'r be cancel'd, Sir.
Ste.
I pitty that y'faith.
Rob.
Let pitty then from me turne to your selfe:
Bethinke your selfe Sir, of some course
That might befit your estate, and let me guide it.
Ste.
Ha, a course? sfoot I hate: Cuz, canst lend me
40. shillings? Could I but repaire this old decay'd Tenement
Of mine with some new playster; for alas, what
Can a man doe in such a case as this?
8
I, but your course, Vncle.
Ste.
Tush, leave that to me, because thou shalt wonder
At it: If you should see me in a scarlet gowne
Within the compasse of a gold chaine, then I
Hope you'l say, that I doe keepe my selfe in
Good compasse: then Sir, if the Cap of Maintenance
Doe march before me, and not a Cap be suffer'd
To be worne in my presence, pray doe not upbraide
Me with my former poverty: I cannot tell, state
And wealth may make a man forget himselfe;
But I beseech you doe not; there are things in my
Head that you dreame not of; dare you try me, Cuz?
Rob.
Why, forty shillings, Vncle, shall not keepe backe
Your fortunes.
Ste.
Why, gramercy Cuz; now if the dice doe run right,
This 40. shillings may set me up agen: To lay't on my backe,
And so to pawne it, there's ne'r a damb'd Broker
In the world will give me halfe the worth on't:
No, whil'st 'tis in ready cash, that's the surest
Way; 7. is better than 11. a pox take the bones
And they will not favour a man sometimes.
Rob.
Looke you Vncle, there's 40. shillings for you.
Ste.
As many good Angells guard thee, as thou hast given
Me bad ones to seduce me, for these deputy divells
Dam worse than the old ones. Now Cuz, pray listen,
Listen after my transformation; I will henceforth
Turne an Apostate to prodigality; I will eate
Cheese and Onions and buy lordships, and will
Not you thinke this strange?
Rob.
I am glad y'are merry, Vncle; but this is fixt
Betwixt an Vncle and a Nephewes love,
Though my estate be poore, revenewes scant,
Whil'st I have any left, you shall not want.
Ste.
Why gramercy, by this hand Ile make
Thee an Alderman before I dye, doe but
Follow my steps.
Exeunt.
9
Wid.
Sirra, will the Churchman come I sent you for?
Clow.
Yes mistris, he will come: but pray resolve
Me one thing for my long service; What
Businesse have you with the Churchman?
Is it to make your Will, or to get you a new
Husband?
Wid.
Suppose to make my Will, how then?
Clow.
Then I would desire you to remember me, Mistris;
I have serv'd you long, and that's the best
Service to a woman: make a good Will if you
Meane to dye, that it may not be said, Though
Most women be long liv'd, yet they all dye
With an ill-will.
Wid.
So Sir, suppose it be for marriage.
Clow.
Why then remember your selfe mistris;
Take heede how you give away the head;
It stands yet upon the shoulders of
Your widdowhood; the loving embracing Ivie
Has yet the upper place in the house;
If you give it to the Holly, take heede,
There's pricks in Holly; or if you feare not
The pricks, take heede of the wands, you
Cannot have the pricks without the wands;
You give away the sword, and must defend
Your selfe with the scabbard; these are pretty
Instructions of a friend; I would be loth to
See you cast downe, and not well taken up.
Wid.
Well Sir, well, let not all this trouble you;
See, hee's come; Will you be gone?
Enter Doctor.
Clow.
I will first give him a caveat, to use you
As kindely as he can. If you finde my mistris
Have a minde to this coupling at barly-breake,
Let her not be the last couple to be left in hell.
Doct.
I would I knew your meaning, Sir.
Clow.
If she have a minde to a fresh husband, or
10
Into as easie bands as may be.
Doct.
Sir, this is none of my traffique; I sell no husbands.
Clo.
Then you doe wrong, Sir, for you take mony for 'm:
What woman can have a husband, but you must
Have custome for him? and often the ware proves
Naught too, not worth the Impost.
Doct.
Your mans pregnant, and merry, mistris.
Wid.
Hee's sawcy Sir. Sirra, you'l be gone.
Clo.
Nay, at the second hand you'l have a fee too;
You sell in the Church, and they bring 'm againe
To your Church-yarde, you must have tollage:
Me thinkes if a man dye whether you will or no,
He should be buryed whether you would or no.
Doct.
Nay now you wade too far, Sir.
Wid.
You'l be gone, Sirra.
Clo.
Mistris make him your friend, for he knowes what rate
Good husbands are at; if there hath bin a dearth
Of women of late, you may chance picke
Out a good prize; but take heede of a Clerke.
Wid.
Will you yet Sir, after your needelesse trouble,
Be gone, and bid the maides dresse dinner.
Clo.
Mistris, 'tis fasting day to day, there's nothing but fish.
Wid.
Let there be store of that; let bounty furnish the
Table, and charity shall be the voyder.
What fish is there, Sirra?
Clo.
Marry there is Sammon, Pike, and fresh Cod,
Soles, Maides, and Playce.
Wid.
Bid 'm haste to dresse 'm then.
Clo.
Nay mistris, I'le helpe 'm too; the maides shall first
Dresse the Pike, and the Cod, and then I'le dresse
The maides in the place you wot on.
Exit Clowne.
Doct.
You sent for me, Gentlewoman?
Wid.
Sir, I did, and to this end:
I have some scruples in my conscience;
Some doubtfull problemes which I cannot answer
Nor reconcile; I'de have you make them plaine.
11
This is my duty; pray speake your minde.
Wid.
And as I speak, I must remember heaven
That gave those blessings which I must relate:
Sir, you now behold a wondrous woman;
You onely wonder at the Epithete;
I can approve it good; Ghesse at mine age.
Doct.
At the halfe way 'twixt thirty and forty.
Wid.
'Twas not much amisse; yet nearest to the last;
How thinke you then; Is not this a wonder,
That a woman lives full seven and thirty yeares,
Mayde to a wife, and wife unto a widdow,
Now widdowed, and mine owne, yet all this while
From the extremest verge of my remembrance,
Even from my weaning houre unto this minute,
Did never taste what was calamity;
I know not yet what griefe is, yet have sought
A hundred wayes for its acquaintance; with mee
Prosperity hath kept so close a watch,
That even those things that I have meant
A crosse, have that way turn'd a blessing;
Is it not strange?
Doct.
Vnparaleld; this gift is singular,
And to you alone belonging; you are the Moone,
For there's but one, all women else are stars,
For there are none of like condition:
Full oft, and many have I heard complaine
Of discontents, thwarts, and adversities;
But a second to your selfe, I never knew
To groane under the superflux of blessings,
To have ever bin alien unto sorrow;
No trip of fate? Sure it is wonderfull.
Wid.
I, Sir, tis wonderfull; but is it well?
For it is now my chiefe affliction.
I have heard you say, that the child of heaven
Shall suffer many tribulations;
Nay, Kings and Princes share them with their subjects;
Then I that know not any chastisement
12
Doct.
'Tis a good doubt; but make it not extreme,
'Tis some affliction, that you are afflicted
For want of affliction: Cherish that;
Yet wrest it not to misconstruction;
For all your blessings are free gifts from heaeven
Health, wealth, and peace; nor can they turn to
Curses, but by abuse. Pray let me question you:
You lost a husband, was it no griefe to you?
Wid.
It was; but very small; no sooner I
Had given it entertainement as a sorrow,
But straite it turn'd unto my treble joy;
A comfortable revelation prompts me then,
That husband whom in life I held so deare,
Had chang'd a frailty to unchanging joyes;
Me thought I saw him stellified in heaven,
And singing Hallelujahs 'mongst a quire
Of white Sainted soules: then againe it spake,
And said; It was a sinne for me to grieve
At his best good, that I esteemed best:
And thus this slender shadow of a griefe
Vanish't againe.
Doct.
All this was happy; nor can you wrest it
From a heavenly blessing. Doe not appoint
The rod: leave still the stroake unto the
Magistrate; the time is not past, but
You may feele enough.
Wid.
One tast more I had, although but little,
Yet I would aggravate to make the most
On't: thus 'twas; The other day, it was my hap
In crossing of the Thames,
To drop that wedlocke Ring from off my finger,
That once conjoyn'd me and my dead husband;
It sunke, I pris'd it deare; the dearer, 'cause it kept
Still in mine eye the memory of my losse;
Yet I griev'd the losse, and did joy withall
That I had found a griefe; and this is all
13
Doct.
This is but small.
Wid.
Nay sure I am of this opinion,
That had I suffer'd a draught to be made for it,
The bottome would have sent it up againe,
I am so wondrouslie fortunate.
Doct.
You would not suffer it?
Enter Clowne.
Wid.
Not for my whole estate.
Clow.
O mistris, where are you? I thinke you are the fortunat'st
Woman, that ever breath'd of two shoes: the thiefe is
Found.
Wid.
The thiefe; what thiefe? I never was so happy
To be robb'd.
Clow.
Bring him away Iug; nay, you shall see the strangest
Piece of felony discover'd that ever you saw,
Or your great grandmothers Grandam before, or after,
A pirate, a water thiefe.
Wid.
What's all this?
Clow.
Bring him away Iug; yet the villaine would not
Confesse a word till it was found about him.
Wid.
I thinke the fellow's mad.
Clow.
Did you not lose your wedding Ring the other day?
Wid.
Yes Sir, but I was not robb'd of it.
Enter Ioane with a fish.
Clow.
No; well, thanke him that brings it
Home then; and will aske nothing for his paines.
You see this Sammon?
Wid.
Yes, what of it?
Clow.
It cost but six pence: but had the Fisher knowne
The worth of it, 'twould have cost you forty shillings.
Is not this your Ring?
Wid.
The very same.
Clow.
Your maid Ioane examining this Sammon, that shee
Bought in the Market, found that he had swallowed
This Gudgeon.
Wid.
How am I vext with blessings? how thinke you
14
Doct.
I am amaz'd at it.
Wid.
First that this fish should snatch it as a baite;
Then that my servant needes must buy that fish
Amongst such infinites of fish and buyers:
What fate is mine that runnes all by it selfe
In unhappy happinesse? My conscience dreads it:
Would thou hadst not swallowed it, nor thou not bought it.
Clow.
Alas, blame not the poore fish, mistris, hee being a flegmatique
Creature, tooke Gold for Restorative. He tooke it faire,
And he that gets Gold, let him eate Gold.
Wid.
Nothing can hinder fate.
Doct.
Seeke not to crosse it then.
Wid.
About your businesse, you have not pleas'd me in this.
Joane.
By my maydenhead if I had thought you would
Have tane it no kindlier, you should ne'r
Have bin vext with sight on't; the garbidge should
Have bin the Cookes fees at this time.
Exit Ioane.
Clow.
Now doe I see the old proverbe come to passe;
Give a woman lucke, and cast her into th'sea:
There's many a man would wish his wife good
Lucke, on that condition he might throw her
Away so. But mistris, there's one within would
Speake with you, that vexeth as fast against
Crosses, as you doe against good lucke.
Wid.
I know her sure then, 'tis my gossip Foster:
Request her in; here's good company, tell her.
Clow.
Ile tell her so for my owne credits sake.
Exit.
Wid.
You shall now see an absolute contrary:
Would I had chang'd bosomes with her for a time,
'Twould make me better rellish happinesse.
Enter Mistris Foster and Clowne.
M. Fost.
O friend and gossip, where are you? I am
O're loaden with my griefes, and but in your bosome
I know not where to ease me.
Clow.
I had rather helpe you to a close-stoole,
15
M. Fost.
Ne'r had woman more sinister fate;
All ominous stars were in conjunction
Even at my birth, and doe still attend me.
Doct.
This is a perfect contrary indeede.
Wid.
What ayles you Woman?
M. Fost.
Vnlesse seven witches had set spels about me,
I could not be so crost, never at quiet
Never happy houre, not a minutes content.
Doct.
You hurt your selfe most with impatience.
M. Fost.
I, I, Physitions minister with ease,
Although the patient do receive in paine;
Would I could think but of one joyfull houre.
Clo.
You have had two husbands to my knowledge;
And if you had not one joyfull houre betweene
Both, I would you were hang'd i'faith.
M. Fost.
Full fourteene yeeres I liv'd a weary mayde,
Thinking no joy till I had got a husband.
Clo.
That was a tedious time indeede.
M. Fost.
I had one lov'd me well, and then ere long
I grew into my longing peevishnesse.
Clow.
There was some pleasure ere you came to that.
M. Fost.
Then all the kindenesse that he would apply,
Nothing could please; soone after it he died.
Clow.
That could be but little griefe.
M. Fost.
Then worldly care did so o'reload my weakenesse,
That I must have a second stay; I chose againe,
And there begins my griefes to multiply.
Wid.
It cannot be, friend; your husband's kinde.
Doct.
A man of faire condition, well reputed.
Clow.
But it may be he has not that should please her.
Wid.
Peace Sirra: how can your sorrowes encrease from him?
M. Fost.
How can they but o'rewhelme me? he keepes a Son
That makes my state his prodigality;
To him a brother, one of the Citty scandals;
The tone the hand, the tother is the maw;
And betweene both my goods are swallowed up;
16
Is now consum'd to halfe.
Wid.
The fire of your spleene wasts it;
Good sooth Gossip, I could laugh at thee, and onely grieve
I have not some cause of sorrow with thee:
Prethee be temperate, and suffer.
Doct.
'Tis good counsell mistris, receive it so.
Wid.
Canst thou devise to lay them halfe on me,
And He beare 'm willingly.
M. Fost.
Would I could, that I might laugh another while:
But you are wise to heede at others harmes;
You'l keepe you happy in your widdowhood.
Wid.
Not I in good faith, were I sure marriage
Would make me unhappy.
M. Fost.
Try, try, you shall not neede to wish;
You'l sing another song, and beare a part
In my griefes descant, when y'are vext at heart:
Your second choyse will differ from the first:
So oft as widdowes marry they are accurst.
Clo.
I, curst widdowes are; but if they had all stiffe husbands
To tame 'm they'd be quiet enough.
Wid.
You'l be gone Sir, and see dinner ready.
Clo.
I care not if I doe mistris, now my stomack's ready;
Yet Ile stay a little and be but to vex you.
Wid.
When goe you, Sirra?
Clo.
I will not goe yet.
Wid.
Ha, ha, ha, thou makest me laugh at thee; prethee stay.
Clo.
Nay then Ile goe to vex you.
Exit Clowne.
M. Fost.
You have a light heart Gossip.
Wid.
So should you Woman, would you be ruld by me:
Come, we'l dine together, after walke abroad
Vnto my suburbe garden, where if thou'lt heare,
Ile read my heart to thee, and thou from thence
Shalt learne to vex thy cares with patience.
Exeunt.
| A New Wonder, A Woman Never Vext | |