 | Ram-Alley : or Merrie-Trickes |  |
Actus Secundi.
Scena Prima.
Enter Oliuer Smaleshanke, Thomas Smale Shanke.S. Oli.
Is this the place you were appoynted to meete him.
Tho. S.
Soe Boutcher sent me word.
Si. O.
I find it true,
That wine, good newes, and a young holsome wentch
Chere vp an old mans bloud, I tel thee boy,
I am right harty glad, to heare thy brother;
Hath got so great an heire; now were my selfe,
So well bestowed I should reioyce ifaith.
Th. S.
I hope you shall doe well.
S. O.
No doubt, no doubt.
A sirra has a borne the wentch away,
My sonne ifaith, my very sonne ifaith,
When I was young and had an able backe,
And wore the brissell on my vpper lipe,
In good Decorum I had as good conuayance,
And could haue ferd, and ferkt y'away a wench,
As soone as eare a man a liue; tut boy,
I had my winks, my becks treads on the toe,
Wrings by the fingers, smyles and other quirkes,
Noe Courtier like me, your Courtiers all are fooles,
To that which I could doe, I could haue done it boy.
Euen to a hare, and that some Ladies knowe,
Th. S.
Sir I am glad this match may reconcile,
Your loue vnto my brother.
Si. O.
Tis more then soe.
Enter Willian Smals-shanke Francis, Beard booted.
Has got rich Sommer-fields heyre.
Wi. S.
Come wench of gold,
For thou shalt get me gold, besides od ends
Of siluer: weele purchase house and land,
By thy bare gettings, wentch, by thy bare gettings,
How saiest Lieftenant-Beard, does she not looke
Like a wentch newly stole from a window?
Bea.
Exceeding well she carries it by Ioue;
And if she can forbeare her Rampant tricke,
And but hold close a while twill take by Mars.
Fra.
How now you slaue? my rampant trickes you rogue,
Nay feare not me my onely feare is still,
Thy filthy face betrayes vs, for all men know,
Thy nose stands compas like a bow,
Which is three quarters drawne, thy head.
Which is with greasy haire ore-spred,
And being vncurld and blacke as cole,
Doth show some Scullion in a hole
Be got thee on a Gipsie, or
Thy mother was some Colliers whore
My rampant tricks you rogue, thou't be descride
Before our plot be ended.
W, S.
What should descry him,
Vnlesse it be his nose? and as for that;
Thou maist protest a was thy fathers butler,
And for thy loue is likewise runne away,
Nay sweet Lieftenant now forbeare to puffe,
And let the brissells of thy beard growe downe-ward,
Reuerence my Punke and Pandarize a little,
Thers many of thy ranke that doe professe it,
Yet hold it noe disparagment.
Bea.
I shall doe,
What fits an honest man.
Wi. S.
Why thats enough,
Foote my Father and the goose my brother,
Backe you two.
Bea.
Backe.
Wi. S.
Retyer sweet Lieftenant,
And come not on, till I shall waue you on.
Si. O.
Is not that he.
Th. S.
Tis he.
Si. O.
But wheres the wentch.
W. S.
It shalbe so, Ile cheate him thats flat.
You are well met, know yee me good sir,
Belike you thinke I haue no eyes, no eares,
No nose to smell, and winde out all your tricks,
Y'haue stole Sir Somerfields heire, nay we can finde,
Your wildest paths, your turnings and returnes,
Your traces, squats, the insets, formes and holes,
You yongmen vse, if once cursagest wits
Be set a hunting, are you now crept forth,
Haue you hid your head within a suburbe hole
All this while, and are you now crept forth?
W. S.
'Tis a starke lye.
Sir. Ol.
How?
W. S.
who told you so did lye,
Foote, a Gentleman cannot leaue the Citty
And keepe the suburbs to take a little Phisick,
But straite some slaue will say he hides his head:
I hide my head within a Suburbe hole,
I could haue holes at Court to hide my head,
Were I but so disposd.
Sir Ol.
Thou varlet knaue,
T'hast stolne away Sir Iohn Somerfields heire,
But neuer looke for countenance from me,
Carry her whether thou wilt.
W. S.
Father, father,
Zart will you vndoe your posterity.
Will you sir vndoe your posterity?
I can but kill my brother then hang my selfe,
And where is then your house, make me not dispare,
Foote now I haue got a wench, worth by the yeare
Two thousand pound and vpwards, to crosse my hopes:
Would ere a clowne in Christendom doo't but you.
Th. S.
Good Father, let him leaue this thundring,
And giue him grace.
W. S.
Why law, my brother knowes
Reason, and what an honest man should doe.
S. Ol.
Well, wheres your wife.
W. S.
Shees comming here behind,
S. Ol.
Ile giue her some-what, though I loue not thee.
W. S.
My father right, I knew you could not hold
Out long with a woman, but giue some-thing
Worthy your gift and her acceptance father,
This chaine were excellent by this good-light,
Shee shall giue you as good if once her lands
Enter Frances Beard.
S. O.
Peace knaue, whats she your wife?
W. S.
That shall be sir.
S. Ol.
And whats he.
W. S.
My man.
S. Ol.
A Ruffian Knaue a is.
W. S.
A Ruffian sir,
By heauen, as tall a man as ere drew sword,
Not being counted of the damned crew,
A was her fathers Butler, his name is Beard,
Of with your Maske, now shall you finde me true,
And that I am a sonne vnto a Knight,
This is my father.
S. Ol.
I am indeed faire maide,
My stile is Knight: come let me kisse your lips.
W. S.
That kisse shall cost your chaine.
S. O.
It smacks ifaith,
I must commend your choise.
Fra.
Sir I haue giuen
A longer venture then true modesty
Will well allow, or your more grauer witte
Commend.
W. S.
I dare be sworne she has.
S. Ol.
Not so,
The foolish knaue ha's beene accounted wilde,
And so haue I, but I am now come home,
And so will he.
Fra.
I must beleeue it now.
W. S.
Beg his chaine wench.
Be.
Wil you cheat your father?
W. S.
I by this light will I.
S. Ol.
Nay sigh not.
For you shall finde him louing and me thankfull.
And were it not a scandall to my honour,
To be consenting to my sonnes attempt,
You should vnto my house, meane while take this,
As pledge and token of my after loue:
How long since dyed your father.
W. S.
Some six weeks since.
We cannot stay to talke, for slaues pursue,
I haue a house shall lodge vs till the Priest
May make vs sure.
S. Ol.
Well sirra, loue this woman,
And when you are man and wife bring her to me,
Shee shall be welcome.
W. S.
I humbly thanke you sir.
S. Ol.
I must be gone, I must a wooing too.
W. S.
Ioue and Priapus speed you, youle returne.
Exit Sir Oliuer and Thom: Small-shanke.
Th. S.
Instantly.
W. S.
VVhy this came cleanly off,
Giue me the chaine, you little Cockatrice,
VVhy this was luck, foote foure hundred crownes
Got at a clap, hold still your owne you whore,
Bea.
Twas brauely fetcht about.
W. S.
I, when will your nose and beard performe as much.
Fra.
I am glad he is gon, a put me to the blush
When a did aske me of ritch Somerfields death.
W. S.
And tooke not I my q: wast not good,
Did I not bring you off, you arrant drab,
Without a counterbuffe? looke who comes heere,
And three merry men, and three merry men,
And three merry men bee wee a.
Enter Boutcher and Constantia.
Bou.
Still in this vaine, I haue done you seruice,
The Lawyers house will giue you entertainment,
Bountifull and free.
W. S.
O my second selfe,
Come let me busse thy beard, we are all made,
Why art so melancholly, doost want money?
Looke heer's gold, and as wee passe along,
Ile tell thee how I got it, not a word
But that shee's Somerfields heyre, my brother
Swallowes it with more ease, then a Dutchman
Does slap-Dragons: a comes, now to my Lawyers:
Enter T. Small-shanke.
Kisse my wife, good brother; shee is a wench
Was borne to make vs all.
Th. S.
I hope no lesse,
Yo'are welcome sister into these our parts,
As I may say.
Fra.
Thankes gentle brother.
W. S.
Come now to Ram-alley. There shalt thou lye,
Till I prouide a Priest.
Bou.
O villany!
I thinke a will gull his whole generation,
I must make one, since 'tis so well begun,
Ile not forsake him, till his hopes be wonne.
Exeunt.
Enter Throate, and two Cittizens.
Thr.
Then y'are friends.
Both.
We are, so please your worship.
Thr.
'Tis well, I am glad, keepe your mony, for law
Is like a Butlers box: while you two striue,
That picks vp all your mony, you are friends,
Both.
We are so please you, both perfit friends.
Th.
Why so,
Now to the next Tap-house, there drinke downe this,
And by the opperation of the third pot.
Fare you well.
Both.
The Gods conserne your wisdom. E. Ci.
Thr.
Why so, these are tricks of the long fifteenes,
To giue counsell, and to take fees on both sides,
To make 'em friends, and then to laugh at them,
Why this thriues well, this is a common trick:
When men haue spent a deale of mony in law,
Then Lawyers make them friends: I haue a trick
To go beyond all these, if Small-shanke come
And bring rich Somerfields heyre, I say no more,
But 'tis within this skonse to goe beyond them.
Enter Dash.
Das.
Here are Gentlemen in hast would speake with you.
Thr.
What are they?
Das.
I cannot know them sir
They are so wrapt in Cloakes.
Thr.
Haue they a woman?
Das.
Yes sir, but shee's Maskt, and in her riding sute.
Thr.
Goe, make hast, bring them vp with reuerence,
Oh are they ifaith, has brought the wealthy heire:
These stooles and cushions stand not handsomly.
Enter William Smalshanke, Boutcher. Thomas Smalshanke, Francis, and Beard.
W. S.
Blesse thee Throte.
Thr.
Maister Smalshanke welcome.
W. S.
Welcome loue, kisse this Gentlewoman, Throte.
Thr.
Your worship shall command me.
W. S.
Art not weary.
Bou.
Can you blame hir since she has rid so hard?
Thr.
You are welcome Gentlemen.—Dash.
Das.
Sir.
Thr.
A fire in the great chamber, quickly.
W. S.
I that's well said, we are almost weary,
But Maister Throte, if any come to inquire
For me, my brother, or this Gentlewoman,
Wee are not here, nor haue you heard of vs.
Thr.
Not a word sir, heere you are as safe
As in your fathers house,
T. S.
And he shall thanke you.
W. S.
Th'art not merry loue, good maister Throte
Bid this Gentlewoman welcome: she is one
Of whom you may receiue some courtesie
In time.
Thr.
She is most harty welcome,
VVilt please you walke into another roome,
W. Sm.
I, I, that that
Good brother lead her in, Maister Throte and I
Will follow instantly, now Maister Throte
Exit.
It rests within your power to pleasure me,
Know that this same is sir Iohn Somerfields Heire,
Now if she chance to question what I am,
Say sonne vnto a Lord, I pray thee tell her
I haue a world of land, and stand in hope
To bee created Barron, for I protest
I was constrain'd to sweare it forty times
And yet shee'le scarce beleeue mee.
Thro.
pauca sapienti,
Let mee alone to set you out in length
And breadth:
W. Sm.
I prethee doo't effectually:
Shat haue a quarter share by this good light,
In all she has, I prethee forget not
To tell her the Smal-shankes haue beene dancers,
Tilters, and very antient Courtiers,
And in request at Court since sir Iohn Short-hose
With his long silke stockings was beheaded,
Wilt thou do this?
Thro.
Referre it to my care.
W. Sm.
Excellent, Ile but shift my bootes, and then
Goe seeke a Priest, this night I will bee shure,
If we bee shure, it cannot be vndone,
Can it Maister Throte?
Thr.
O sir not possible:
You haue many Presidents and booke Cases for't,
Bee you but shure and then let mee alone.
Viuat Rex, currat Lex and Ile defend you.
W. Sm.
Nay then hang care, come lets in.
Thr.
A ha,
Haue you stole her, fallere fallentem non est fraus.
Exit. W. S,
It shall goe hard but I will strippe you boy.
You stole the wench, but I must her inioy.
Exit
Enter Mistris Taffata, Adriana, below.
Come Adriana, tell me what thou think'st,
I am tickled with conceit of marriage,
And whom think'st thou (for mee) the fittest husband
What saist thou to yong Bouchor.
Adri.
A pretty fellow
But that his back is weake, Taff. What dost thou say
To Throte the Lawier?
Adri.
I like that well,
He neuer was of any Inne-of-court;
But Inne of Chancery, where a was knowne,
But onely for a swaggering whyfler,
To keepe out rogues, and prentises, I saw him,
When a was stockt for stealing the cookes fees.
A Lawyer I could like, for tis a thing,
Vsed by you Cittizens wiues, your husbands dead;
To get French-hoods you straight must Lawyers wed,
Taf.
What saist thou then to Nimble Sir Oliu, Smal-shanck
Adr.
Faith he must hit the haire: a fellow fit,
To make a pritty Cuckold: take an old man,
Tis now the newest fashion, better be
An old mans darling, then a young mans warling,
Take me the old briske Knight, the foole is rich,
And wilbe strong enough to father children,
Though, not to get them.
Taf.
Tis true he is the man,
Yet will I beare some dozen more in hand,
And make them all my gulls.
Adr.
Mistris stand aside.
Enter Boutcher, and Constantia.
Young Boutcher comes let me alone to touch him.
Bou.
This is the house.
Con.
And thats the chambermaide.
Bou.
Whers the widdow gentle Adriana.
Adr.
The widdow sir is not to be spooke to,
Bou.
Not speake to, I must speake with her.
Adr.
Must you!
Come you with authority, or doe you come
To sue her with a warrant that you must speake with her.
Bou.
I would Intreat it.
Adr.
O you would intreat it,
May not I serue your turne, may not I vnfold,
Your secrets to my Mistris, loue is your sute,
Bou.
It is faire creature.
Adr.
And why did you fall off
When you perceiued my mistris was so cunning,
D'you thinke she is still the same.
Bou.
I doe.
Adr.
Why so,
I tooke you for a nouice; and I must thinke,
You know not yet the inwards of a woman,
Doe you not know that women are like fish,
Which must be strooke when they are prone to byte,
Or all your labours lost, but sir walke here.
Con.
Maister
Bou.
boy.
Con.
come not you for loue,
Bou.
I do boy
Con.
And you would haue ye widdow.
Bo.
I would
Con.
by Ioue
I neuer saw one goe about his busines
More vntowardly: why sir, doe not you know
That he which would be inward with the Mistris,
Must make a way first through the waiting mayde?
If youle know the widdowes affections
Feele first the waiting Gentle-woman; do it Maister,
Some halfe a dozen kisses were not lost
Vppon this Gentle-woman, for you must know
These wayting-maids are to their Mistresses
Like Porches vnto doores, you passe the one
Before you can haue entrance at the other:
Or like your musterd to your peece of brawne,
If youle haue one tast well you must not scorne
To bee dipping in the other, I tell you Maister
Tis not a few mens tales which they preferre
Vnto their Mistress, in compasse of a yeare—
Be ruld by me, vntrusse your selfe to her,
Out with all your loue-sicke thoughts to her,
Kisse her and giue her an angell to buy pinnes,
And this shall sooner winne her Mistris loue,
Then all your protestations, sithes and teares.
Enter Taffata, Adriana.
Here they come; to her bouldly Maister
Doe, but dally not, thats the widdowes phrase,
Bou.
Most worthy fayre such is the power of loue
That now I come t'accept your proffered grace,
And with submissiue thoughts t'entreat a pardon
For my so grose neglect.
Taff.
Theres no offence,
My mind is changed.
Adr.
I told you as much before.
Con.
With a hey passe with a repasse.
Bou.
Deerest of women,
The constant vertue of your nobler mind
Speakes in your lookes: Nor can you entertaine
Both loue and hate at once.
Taff.
Tis all in vaine.
Adr.
You striue against the streame.
Con.
Fee the waitingmaid Maister
Bou.
Stand thou propitious, indeere me to thy loue
Boutcher giues Adriana his purse secretly.
Deere Mistresse turne to this Gentleman, I protest,
I haue some feeling of his constant loue,
Cast him not away, trye his loue.
Taf.
Why sir,
With what audatious front can you intreat
To inioy my loue, which yet not two houres since,
You scornfully refusd.
Con.
Wel sare the waiting maide.
Bou.
My fate compeld me, but now farewell fond feare,
My soule, my life, my lands, and reputation,
Ile hazard all, and prize them all beneath thee.
Taf.
Which I shall put to tryall, lend me thy eare.
Adr.
Can you loue boy.
Co.
Yes.
Ad.
What or whom.
Co.
My victuals.
Adr.
A pretty knaue, ifaith come home to night,
Shalt haue a posset and candi'd Eringoes,
A bed if need be to, I loue a life,
To play with such Babounes as thou.
Con.
Indeed,
But doost thinke the widdow will haue my maister.
Adr.
Ile tell thee then, wo't come.
Con.
I wil.
Ad.
Remember.
Taf.
Will you performe so much.
Bou.
Or loose my bloud.
Taf.
Make him subscribe it, and then I vow,
By sacred Uestaes euer hallowed fier,
To take thee to my bed.
Bou.
Till when farewell.
Exe.
Taf.
Hee's worthy loue, whose vertues most excell.
Adr.
Remember, what ist a match betwixt you Mistresse?
Taf.
I haue set the foole in hope, ha's vnder-tooke
To rid me of that fleshly Captaine Face,
Which sweares in Tauernes, and all Ordinaries,
I am his lawfull wife: hee shall allay,
The fury of the Captaine, and I secure,
Will laugh at the disgrace they both indure.
Ex:
Enter Throte and Francis.
Thr.
Open your case, and I shall soone resolue you.
Fra.
But will you do it truly.
Thr.
As I am honest.
Fra.
This Gentleman whom I so much affect,
I scarsly yet doe know, so blind is loue,
In things which most concernes it, as y'are honest
Tell me his birth, his state, and farthest hopes.
Thr.
He is my friend, and I will speake him truly,
He is by birth, sonne to a foolish Knight,
And farthest hope to be baild out againe,
By sale of all your land.
Fra.
O mee accurst,
Has a no credit, Lands and Mannors.
Thr.
That lands he has lyes in a faire Church-yard,
And for his manners, they are so rude and vilde,
That scarce an honest man will keepe him company.
Fra.
I am abus'd, coosned, and deceiu'd.
Thr.
Why that's his occupation, hee will cheate
In a cloake lin'd with Veluet, a will prate
Faster then fiue Barbers and a Taylor,
Lye faster then ten Citty occupiers,
Or cunning tradesmen: goes a trust
In euery Tauerne where has spent a fagot,
Sweares loue to euery whore, squires bawdes,
And takes vp houses for them as their husband.
A is a man I loue, and haue done much
To bring him to preferment.
Fra.
Is there no trust,
No honesty in men.
Thr.
Faith some there is,
And 'tis all in the hands of vs Lawyers
And women, and those women which haue it,
Keepe their honesty so close, that not one
Amongst a hundred is perceiued to haue it.
Fra.
Good sir, may I not by law forsake him
And wed another, though my word be past
To be his wife.
Thr.
O questionlesse you may,
You haue many Presidents and booke-cases for't,
Nay, though you were married by a booke-case,
Of Milesimo sexantesimo, &c.
You may forsake your husband, and wed another,
Prouided that some fault be in the husband,
As none of them are cleare.
Fra.
I am resolu'd,
I will not wed him, though I beg my bread.
Thr.
All that I haue is yours, and were I worthy
To be your husband.
Fra.
I thanke you sir,
I will rather wed a most perfidious Redshanke,
A noted Iewe, or some Mechanick slaue,
Then let him ioy my sheets.
Thr.
A comes, a comes,
W. S.
Now my Virago, 'tis done, all's cock-sure,
I haue a Priest will mumble vp a marriage,
Without bell, booke, or candle, a nimble slaue,
A honest Welsh-man that was a Taylor,
But now is made a Curate.
Bea.
Nay y'are fitted.
Bou.
Now maister Throte.
T. S.
Where's your spirit sister?
W. S.
What all amort? whats the matter? do you here?
Bou.
What's the reason of this melancholly?
Thr.
By heauen I know not.
W. S.
Has the gudgin bit.
Fra.
He has beene nibling.
W. S.
Hold him to it wench,
And it 'twill hit by heauen: why art so sad?
Foote wench we will be married to night,
Weele sup at th'Myter, and from thence
My brother and we three will to the Sauoy,
Which done, I tell thee girle, weele hand ore head,
Goe to't pell mell for a maiden-head,
Come yo'are lusty, you wenches are like bells,
You giue no musick, till you feele the clapper,
Come Throte a tortch, we must be gon.
Fra.
Seruant.
Ex.
Bea.
Mistris.
Fra.
We are vndone.
Bea.
Now Ioue forfend.
Fra.
This fellow has no land; and which is worse,
Hee has no credit.
Bear.
How are we outstript,
Blowne vp by wit of man: Let vs be gone
Home againe, home againe, our market now is done.
Fra.
That were too great a scandall.
Thr.
Most true,
Better to wed another, then to returne
With scandall and defame: wed me a man
Whose wealth may reconcile your mothers loue,
And make the action lawfull.
Bea.
But where's the man?
I like your councell, could you show the man.
Thr.
My selfe am he, might I but dare aspyre
Vnto so high a Fortune.
Bea.
Mistrisse, take the man,
Shall we be baffled with faire promises,
Or shall we trudge, like beggers back againe,
No, take this wise and vertuous man,
Who should a lose his legges, his armes, his eares,
His nose, and all his other members,
Take me this man.
Thr.
Thankes gentle maister Beard.
Fra.
'Tis impossible, this night he meanes to wed mee.
Thr.
If not by law, we will with power preuent it,
So you but giue consent.
Fra.
Lets heere the meanes.
Thr.
Ile muster vp my friends, and thus I cast it,
Whilst they are busie, you and I will hence
Directly to a Chappell, where a Priest
Shall knit the nuptiall knot ere they persue vs.
Bea.
O rare inuention, Ile act my part,
A owes mee thirteene pound, I say no more,
But there be catch-poles: speake ist a match.
Fra.
I giue my liking.
Thr.
Dash.
Das.
Sir.
Thr.
Get your sword
And me my buckler, nay you shall know
We are Tam marti quam mercurio,
Bring my cloake, you shall thether, Ile for friends,
Worship and wealth the Lawyers state attends.
Dash, we must beare some braine, to Saint Iohns streete,
Goe runne, flye: and a farre off enquire,
If that the Lady Somerfield be there,
If there, know what newes, and meete me straite
At the Myter doore in Fleet-streete, away,
“To get rich wiues, men must not vse delay.
| Ram-Alley : or Merrie-Trickes | |