 | A New Wonder, A Woman Never Vext |  |
17
Actus Secundus.
Enter Host Boxall, Stephen, Iacke, Dicke, Hugh.Host.
VVelcome still my merchants of bona Speranza;
What's your trafficke Bulleyes? What ware deale you in?
Cards, Dice, Bowles, or Pigeon-holes; sort'm
Your selves; either Passage, Novum, or Mumchance?
Say my brave Bursmen, what's your recreation?
Ste.
Dice mine Host: Is there no other roome empty?
Host.
Not a hole unstopt in my house, but this my Thrifts.
Iack.
Miscall us not for our money, good mine Host, we are
None of your thrifts; we have scap'd that scandall long agoe.
Dick.
Yes, his thrifts we are Iacke, though not our owne.
Host.
Tush, you are young men, 'tis too soone to thrive yet:
He that gathers young, spends when hee's old:
'Tis better to begin ill, and end well, than to
Begin well and end ill: Miserable fathers have
For the most part unthrifty sons; leave not
Too much for your heires, Boyes.
Jack.
Hee sayes well i'faith; Why should a man trust
To executors.
Ste.
As good trust to hangmen as to executors:
Who's in the bowling Alley mine Host?
Host.
Honest traders, thrifty lads, they are rubbing on't;
Towardly Boyes, every one strives to lye nearest the Mistris.
Ste.
Give's a bayle of Dice.
Host.
Here my brave Wags.
Ste.
We feare no Counters now mine Host, so
Long as we have your bayle so ready.
Come, trip.
Iack.
Vp with's heeles.
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Downe with them.
Hugh.
Now the dice are mine; set me now a faire
Boord; a faire passage sweet bones. Boreas.
A noyse below in the bowling Alley, betting, rubbing and wrangling.
Host.
How now my fine Trundletayles;
My wodden Cosmographers:
My bowling Alley in an uprore?
Is Orlando up in armes? I must be stickler;
I am Constable, Iustice, and Beadle in mine
Owne house, I accuse, sentence, and punish:
Have amongst you; looke to my box Boyes;
He that breakes the peace, I breake his pate
For recompence; looke to my box, I say.
Exit.
Step.
A pox o' your box, I shall ne'r be so happy to
Reward it better; set me faire; aloft now.
Iack.
Out.
Step.
What wast?
Dick.
Two Trayes, and an Ace.
Step.
Seven still, pox on't; that number of the
Deadly sinnes haunts me damnably; Come Sir, throw.
Jack.
Prethee invoke not so, all sinkes too fast already.
Hugh.
It will be found againe in mine hosts box.
Iack.
In still, two theeves and choose thy fellow.
Step.
Take the Miller.
Iack.
Have at them i'faith.
Hugh.
For a thiefe Ile warrant you, who'l you have next.
Iack.
Two Quaters and a Tray.
Step.
I hope we shall have good cheere, when two
Caters, and a Tray goe toth' market.
Enter Host.
Host.
So all's whist; they play upon the still pipes now,
The Bull-beggar comes when I shew my head,
Silence is a vertue, and I have made 'm vertuous,
Let'm play still till they be penny lesse; pawne
Till they be naked, so they be quiet, welcome,
And welcome.
A noyse above at Cards.
How now, how now, my roaring Tamberlaine, take
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Who would live amongst such Beares? why Vrsa
Major I say, what in Capite Draconis? is there
No hope to reclayme you, shall I never live in quiet
For you?
Dick.
Good mine Host still 'm: civill Gamesters cannot play for'm.
Host.
I come amongst you, you maledictious slaves; I'l
Vtter you all; some I'l take ready money for, and lay
Vp the rest in the stocks: looke to my box, I say.
Step.
Your box is like your belly mine Host, it
Drawes all; now for a suite of apparell.
Iack.
At whose suit I pray? y'are out againe with the threes.
Step.
Foote, I thinke my father threw three when I was
Begotten; pox on't, I know now why I am so
Haunted with threes.
Jack.
Why, I prethee?
Step.
I met the third part of a knave as I came.
Iack.
The third part of a knave, s'foote what thing's that?
Step.
Why a Serjants Yeoman, man; the supervisor himselfe
Is but a whole one, and he shares but a groate in the
Shilling with him.
Dick.
That's but the third part indeed: but goes he no further.
Step.
No, he rests there.
Hugh.
Come, let's give o're.
Step.
I thanke you Sir, and so much a looser? there's but
The wast-band of my suite left: now sweete bones.
Hugh.
Twelve at all.
Step.
Soft, this dye is false.
Hugh.
False? you doe him wrong Sir, hee's true to his Master.
Step.
Fullum:
Dick.
I'le be hang'd then: where's Putney then I pray you:
Step.
'Tis false, and I'le have my money againe.
Hugh.
You shall have cold Iron with your silver then.
Step.
I, have at you Sir.
Enter Host, and young Foster.
Host.
I thinke hee's here, Sir.
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Rob.
I am sure hee's now, Sir.
Hugh.
Hold, hold, and you be Gentlemen hold.
Rob.
Get you gone Varlets, or there's hold to be taken.
Host.
Nay sweete Sir, no bloodshed in my house; I am lord
Of misrule, pray you put up, Sir.
Om.
S'foote mine Host, where are our cloakes?
Host.
Why, this is quarrelling; Make after in time:
Some of your owne Crew, to try the weight has
Lifted them; looke out I say.
Iack.
There will ever be theeves in a dicing house
Till thou bee'st hang'd I'l warrant thee.
Exeunt Cheat.
Step.
Mine Host, my Cloake was lin'd through with
Oringe tawney velvet.
Host.
How, your cloake? I ne'r knew thee worth one.
Step.
Y'are a company of Conycatching rascals;
Is this a suite to walke without a Cloake in?
Rob.
Vncle, is this the reformation that you promis'd mee?
Step.
Cuz, shall I tell thee the truth; I had diminish't
But six pence of the forty shillings by chance meeting with a
Friend, I went to a taylor, bargain'd for a suite, it
Came to full forty, I tender'd my xxxix and a halfe,
And doe you thinke the scabby-wristed rascall would
Trust me for six pence.
Rob.
Your credit is the better, Vncle.
Step.
Pox on him, if the taylor had bin a man, I had
Had a faire suite on my backe, so venturing for
The tother Tester
Rob.
You lost the whole Bed-stead.
Step.
But after this day, I protest Cuz, you shall never
See me handle those bones againe; this day I
Breake up schoole: if ever you call me unthrift after
This day, you doe me wrong.
Rob.
I should be glad to wrong you so, Vncle.
Ste.
And what sayes your father yet, Cuz?
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I'le tell you that in your eare.
Enter Mistris Foster, Widdow and Clowne.
M. Fost.
Nay, I pray you friend beare me company a little
This way, for into this dicing house I saw my good
Son in law enter, and 'tis ods but he meetes his
Vncle here.
Wid.
You cannot tire me gossip in your company, 'tis the best
Affliction I have to see you impatient.
M. Fost.
I, I, you may make mirth of my sorrow.
Clow.
We have hunted well, mistris; doe you not see
The hare's in sight?
M. Fost.
Did not I tell you so; I, I, there's good counsell
Betweene you, the tone would goe afoote to hell,
The other the horseway.
Rob.
Mother, I am sorry you have trod this path.
M. Fost.
Mother? hang thee wretch, I bore thee not, but
Many afflictions I have borne for thee; wert thou
Mine owne, I'd see thee stretcht a handfull, and
Put thee a Coffin into the Cart, ere thou shouldst vex
Me thus.
Rob.
Were I your owne, you could not use me worse than you doe.
M. Fost.
I'l make thy father turne thee out for ever, or else
I'l make him wish him in his grave; You'l witnesse
With me Gossip where I have found him.
Clow.
Nay, I'l be sworne upon a booke of Callico for that.
Rob.
It shal not neede, I'l not deny that I was with my Vncle.
M. Fost.
And that shall disinherit thee, if thy father
Be an honest man; thou hadst bin better to have
Bin borne a viper, and eate thy way through thy
Mothers wombe into the world, than to tempt my
Displeasure.
Ste.
Thou lyest Zantippe; it had bin better thou hadst
Bin prest to death under two Irish Rugs, than to
Ride honest Socrates thy husband thus, and abuse his
Honest childe.
M. Fost.
Out Raggamuffin, dost thou talke? I shall see thee
22
Ste.
Thou lyest agen, 'twilbe at More-gate, Beldam, where
I shall see thee in the Ditch dancing in a Cucking-stoole.
M. Fost.
I'l see thee hang'd first.
Ste.
Thou lyest againe.
Clo.
Nay Sir, you doe wrong to give a woman so many lies,
Shee had rather have had twice so many standings, than
One lye.
M. Fost.
I'l lye with him I'l warrant him.
Ste.
You'l be a whore then.
Clo.
Little lesse I promise you, if you lye with him.
Ste.
If you complaine upon mine honest Cuz,
And that his father be offended with him,
The next time I meete thee, though it be i'th' streete,
Ile dance i'th' durt upon thy velvet Cap;
Nay worse, I'le staine thy Ruffe; nay worse than that,
I'l doe thus:
Holds a wispe.
M. Fost.
O my hart Gossip, do you see this? Was ever
Woman thus abus'd?
Wid.
Me thinkes 'tis good sport y'faith.
M. Fost.
I, I am well recompenc'd to complaine to you,
Had you such a kindred.
Wid.
I would rejoyce in't Gossip.
M. Fost.
Do so; choose here then; Oh my hart! But I'l doe
Your errand; Oh that my Nayles were not par'd! But I'l doe
Your errand; Will you goe Gossip?
Wid.
No, I'l stay awhile and tell 'm out with patience.
M. Fost.
I cannot hold a joynt still; Dost wispe me, thou
Tatterdemallion; I'l doe your errands, if I have a
Husband; Oh that I could spit Wild-fire
My heart, Oh my heart! If it does not goe pantle,
Pantle, pantle in my belly, I am no honest woman:
But I'l doe your errands.
Exit Mistris Foster.
Rob.
Kinde Gentlewoman, you have some patience.
Wid.
I have too much Sir.
Rob.
You may doe a good office, and make your selfe a
Peacefull moderator betwixt me and my angry
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Against me.
Wid.
Sir, I doe not disallow the kindenesse your
Consanguinity renders, I would not teach.
You otherwise; I'd speake with your Vncle, Sir,
If you'l give me leave.
Clo.
You may talke with me Sir, in the meane time.
Exit. Robin and Clowne.
Ste.
With me would you talke, Gentlewoman?
Wid.
Yes Sir, with you; you are a brave Vnthrift.
Ste.
Not very brave neither; yet I make a shift
Wid.
When you have a cleane shirt.
Ste.
I'l be no Pupill to a woman; leave your discipline.
Wid.
Nay, pray you heare me Sir, I cannot chide.
I'l but give you good counsell; 'tis not a good
Course that you run.
Ste.
Yet I must run to'th' end of it.
Wid.
I would teach you a better, if you'd stay where you are.
Ste.
I would stay where I am, if I had any money.
Wid.
In the dycing house?
Ste.
I thinke so too, I have play'd at Passage all
This while, now I'd go to Hazard.
Wid.
Dost thou want Money? Thou art worthy to be tatter'd
Hast thou no wit now thy Money's gone?
Ste.
'Tis all the portion I have;
I have nothing to maintaine me but my wit;
My Money is too little I'm sure.
Wid.
I cannot beleeve thy wit's more than thy Money:
A fellow so well limb'd, so able to doe good service,
And want.
Ste.
Why Mistris, my shoulders were not made for a Frock
And a Basket, nor a Coale-sacke neither, no nor
My hands to turne a trencher at a tables side.
Wid.
I like that resolution well; but how comes it
Then, that thy wit leaves thy body unfurnisht?
Thou art very poore?
Ste.
The fortune of the Dice you see.
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They are the onely wizards, I confesse,
The onely fortune-tellers; but he that goes to
Seeke his fortune from them, must never hope
To have a good destiny allotted him: yet it is
Not the course that I dislike in thee, but that
Thou canst not supply that course, and out-
Crosse them that crosse thee; Were I as thou art
Ste.
You'd be as beggarly as I am.
Wid.
I'l be hang'd first.
Ste.
Nay, you must be well hang'd e'r you can be as I am.
Wid.
So Sir, I conceite you; were I as well hang'd then
As you could imagine, I would tell some rich widow
Such a tale in her eare.
Ste.
Ha? Some rich widdow? By this pennilesse pocket,
I thinke 'twere not the worst way.
Wid.
I'd be asham'd to take such a fruitlesse oath:
I say, seeke me out some rich widow; promise
Her faire; shee's apt to believe a young man;
Marry her, and let her estate fly; no matter,
'Tis charity; Twenty to one some rich Miser rak'd
It together; this is none of Hercules labours.
Ste.
Ha? let me recount these articles: Seeke her out;
Promise her faire; Marry her; Let her estate fly:
But where should I finde her?
Wid.
The easyest of all: Why man, they are more common
Than Taverne Bushes; two Fayres might be
Furnish'd every weeke in London with 'm, though no
Forrainers came in, if the Charter were granted once:
Nay, 'tis thought, if the Horse-market be remov'd, that
Smithfield shall be so imploy'd, and then I'l
Warrant you 'twill be as well furnishd with widowes as
Twas with Sowes, Cowes, and old trotting Iades before.
Ste.
S'foote, if it were, I would be a Chapman; I'd see for
My pleasure, and buy for my love, for money I have none.
Wid.
Thou shalt not stay the Market; if thoul't be rul'd,
I'l finde thee out a widdow, and helpe in some of
The rest too; if thou'lt but promise me the last, but
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I'd be glad to see that revenge on her.
Ste.
Spend her estate, wer't five Aldermens; I'l put you
In security for that, sfoote all my neighbours shall be bound
For me, nay, my kinde Sister in law shall passe her word
For that.
Wid.
Onely this I'l enjoyne you, to be matrimonially honest
To her for your owne healthes sake: all other injuries
Shall be blessings to her.
Ste.
I'l blesse her then; I ever drunke so much,
That I was never great feeder; give me drinke,
And my pleasure, and a little flesh serves my turne.
Wid.
I'l shew thee the party; What sayest thou to my selfe?
Ste.
Your selfe, Gentlewoman, I would it were no worse;
I have heard you reputed a rich widdow.
Wid.
I have a lease of thousands at least, Sir.
Ste.
I'l let out your leases for you, if you'l allow me
The power I'l warrant you.
Wid.
That's my hope Sir; but you must be honest withall.
Ste.
I'l be honest with some; if I can he honest with all,
I will too.
Wid.
Give me thy hand; goe home with me, I'l give
The better clothes; and as I like thee then, we'l
Goe further, we may chance make a blinde
Bargaine of it.
Ste.
I can make no blind bargaine, unlesse I be
In your bed, Widow.
Wid.
No, I bar that Sir, lets begin honestly, how
E'r we end; marry for the waste of my estate
Spare it not; doe thy worst.
Ste.
I'l doe bad enough, feare it not.
Wid.
Come, will you walk, Sir.
Ste.
No Widow, I'l stand to no hazard of blinde
Bargaines; either promise me marriage, and give
Me earnest in a handfast, or I'l not budge
A foote.
Wid.
No Sir, are you growne so stout already?
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I'l grow stouter when I am marryed.
Wid.
I hope thou'lt vex me.
Ste.
I'l give you cause I'l warrant you.
Wid.
I shall rayle, and curse thee I hope; yet I'd
Not have thee give over neither; for I would
Be vext; Here's my hand, I am thine, thou art mine,
I'l have thee withall faults.
Ste.
You shall have one with some, and you have mee.
Enter Robin and Clowne.
Wid.
Here's witnesse, come hither Sir.
Cozin, I must call you shortly; and you
Sirra, be witnesse to this match; here's Man and Wife.
Rob.
I joy at mine Vncles happinesse, Widdow.
Clo.
I doe forbid the Banes: Alas poore Shagragge,
My Mistris does but gull him; you may
Imagine it to be Twelfe-day at night, and the
Beane found in the corner of your Cake, but
'Tis not worth a fetch I'l assure you.
Wid.
You'l let me dispose of my selfe, I hope.
Clo.
You love to be merry Mistris; Come, come,
Give him foure Farthings, and let him goe.
He'l pray for his good Dame, and be drunke;
Why, if your blood does itch that way, we'l
Stand together; how thinke you? I thinke here
Is the sweeter bit, you see this Nap, and you
See this Lowse, you may cracke o' your choyse,
If you choose here.
Wid.
You have put me to my choyse then; see, here I choose?
This is my Husband: Thus I begin the Contract.
Kisse
Ste.
'Tis seal'd, I am thine; now Cuz feare no blacke
Stormes; if thy father thunder, come to me for shelter.
Wid.
His word is now a deede, Sir.
Rob.
I thanke you both. Vncle, what my joy conceives,
I cannot utter yet.
Clo.
I will make blacke Munday of this: e'r I suffer
This disgrace, the kennell shall run with blood and rags.
Rob.
Sir, I am your apposite.
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I have nothing to say to you, Sir; I ayme at your Vncle
Rob.
He has no weapon.
Clo.
That's all one, I'l take him as I finde him:
Wid.
I have taken him so before you, Sir; Will you be quiet.
Ste.
Thou shalt take me so too Hodge, for I'l be thy fellow,
Though thy Mistrisses Husband. Give me thy hand.
Clo.
I'l make you seeke your fingers among the Dogs,
Exeunt
If you come to me; my Fellow? You lowsie
Companion; I scorne thee. S'foote, is't come to this?
Have I stood all this while to my Mistris, an honest,
Hansome, plaine-dealing, serving-Creature; and she to
Marry a Worson Tittere Tu Tattere with never a good rag
About him? Stand thou to me, and be my friend; and since
My Mistris has forsaken me:
Enter Robin.
Rob.
How now? what's the matter?
Clo.
'Twas well you came in good time.
Rob.
Why man?
Clo.
I was going the wrong way.
Rob.
But tell me one thing, I apprehend not; Why didst
Lay thy Cap upon the swords point?
Clo.
Do'st not thou know the reason of that? why, 'twas
To save my belly: dost thou thinke I am so mad to
Cast my selfe away for e'r a woman of 'm all,
I'l see 'm hang'd first.
Rob.
Come Roger, will you goe?
Clo.
Well, since there is no remedy, Oh teares bee you my friend!
Rob.
Nay, prethee Roger doe not cry.
Clo.
I cannot choose; nay I will steepe
Mine eyes in crying teares, and crying weepe.
Exeunt.
| A New Wonder, A Woman Never Vext | |