 | The Wizard |  |
Sce: 3.
Enter Cœlia sola.Was ever Lady more belou'd, and trulier
By rare variety of youthfull choice?
The cities pride and natures, be my servants,
And yet J am a Virgin, Such Gentlemen
Better n'ere shone in Saturns golden dayes:
Men of the best and first mold, men that haue
No fault but only this, that they loue me;
Men that could win cold Nuns even from their beads,
And keep the sprighfull Porcia from her coals,
And cause Lucrece to throw away her knife
And even after Tarquin loue a man;
And yet J am a Virgin; and what's worse
Yet must be so; J know not whom to chuse;
Each severall man may claine me as his own,
They all deserve me best. Curst Cœlia!
But losse to thee: would J were less belou'd
Some hate to me had been more happy far
Then all affection; Unkind Archer!
Why dost thou wound them with so just a force
And even hand? at least thou mighst haue slackt
One shaft, (in the to shoot all well's a fault)
Thy best is when one arrow only hitts
The destin'd mark, and all the rest fall short;
Enter Sr Oliver Youngloue, Antonio.
Ant:
The servants said she was i'th gallery.
Sr Oli:
We are almost upon it; J haue espy'd her.
Cœl:
Well Sutors, Cœlia, shall not wrong your loues
Jle not dispose my self, nor giue you just
Cause of dislike through my particular choice.
No, J will learn (if that we things below)
Are made partakers of such hidden arts)
Whom you kind fate haue writ in constant letters
My certaine husband, him i'le choose, the rest
Must like of him whom you approue on best.
Sr Oliv.
To her againe my Sonne, be not repulst
Tell her my bags are infinite, my Loue
Exceeding them.
Cœl.
Her's an encounter comeing;
A doating father and a loving Sonne.
Sr Oli:
Say that J dream on her, & in my sleep
Cry out on Cœlia's name.
Cœl.
Who hath no other way
Poor Gentleman to utter his own loue
But as his fathers spoksman.
Say J'me a tough
A tough old blade that in my yonger dayes
Went to it with discretion and a method;
Useing my wife but twice a week as physick.
Reflecting with an eye of providence
Upon Threescore; & haue reserv'd a stock
Of pleasure for these dayes, goe J'le wait here
Thy comfortable answer and obserue
Her eyes, and looks, and by those Symptomes judge
How thou dost win upon her heart and mind.
Ant.
Best Lady (takeing leaue to thank your vertues
For the concealment of my loue) J'me bold
To praise that beauty taught me to forgett
The piety of a Sonne, and for exchang
Enricht me with a nobler reverence,
The duty of a Lover.
Sr Oli:
How he works her?
Cœl:
Your Father is in presence pray be modest,
And offer not upon the slender grounds
Of a small secresie to build unto
Your self presumptuous hopes.
Sr Oliv:
She is half wonn;
She talks and answers to his amorous tales
He hath a plagie flattring tongue, mine own
Mine own spawn right, what would J giue to hear
Their conference.
Ant:
Madam, J presume not;
Although that louers eyes (like optick glasses)
Render all favours bigger, and aboue
the True proportion in themselues they haue:
Yet trust me Lady somewhat of comfort,
Somewhat of hope this silence doth suggest;
But that which most doth fortify my cause
Js my old Fathers weaknesse, when J behold
His age doth muster 'gainst his sute in Loue.
Sr Oliv:
He's at it now in the approovement of my manhood,
J must present and shew my self; my shoulders doe not
erect with credit; but t'is no matter.
(Sr Oliv: walks to & fro)
Ant.
J can't but dream of victory and success
Against so feeble an opposer.
Sr Oliv:
So, So, she's o'recome, now J'le goe to her; Madam
Nay he hath told no lie, J am the man
Jn all particulars he said J was,
Thanks good Antonio, thanks my sweet boy
Learning was well bestowd on thee.
Cœl.
Sr J must desire your Sonne and you to be my guests
to night; pray get young Clerimont to come, he is grown a
stranger to us.
Sr Oliv:
No, No, he sides against me with a friend My
Rivall, J shall not laugh if he be here, Let him alone, 'tis a
perverse boy to me And he shall find J will not threat but
doe.
Enter Clerimont disguised like a Captaine with a patch on his eye & a false beard
Cler:
J am chang'd enough J scarce do know my self, were
J among the roaring boys J should deceaue them too; yonder's
my Father and Jnnocence my Brother; 'Saue you Lady, J
wonder (that old man being so near) you can partake of
health.
Cœl:
The reason Sr?
Cler.
Out with him doth not his nose tell you why, more
aire J beseech you, or call for Juniper; upon my faith he
to him, the Bear garden a perfumers shop; see, see, she
begins to faint, good knight hoble further off with your three
legs; will you murder the Lady with your obscene lungs?
Cœl:
Your help's unseasonable Sr, J am sound
And in my perfect health.
Sr Oliv:
Antonio lends thy hand.
Ant:
My sword Sr.
Sr Oliv:
No, No, thy hand to hold me up, he hath put me
into a palsie, ô J could shake him now.
Ant:
Pray Sr unhand me.
Cœl:
Good Sr unsay your words, perhaps you have rail'd
against a man J loue; for my sake peace.
Cler:
Loue? Jle break the bands Lady, alasse if you would
haue feavers, aches, gouts, tympanies, coughs, collicks,
palsies, & rheums your unfortunate issue; take him: he shall
beget all these with a kisse, he will poyson with more
dexterity then your Doctoor.
Ant:
This is unsufferable; patience is here a crime, good
father let me chastise his tongue.
Sr Oliv:
No, no, and Clerimont were here, he should chang
a blow or two with him, he is just such a swaggering boy,
this, upon my life, is a sworn brother of his.
Cler:
He got indeed two boyes in his youth, yonder is his
eldest, a starvling, diet is cast away upon him; he devoures
Books to and yet you see he doth not thrive; and the other
(a well timbred Gentleman but for his hereditary infirmities)
almost drownd in phlegms and rheums, which hath throwd
him upon the Sovereign balm Tobacco; J haue known him
diseases as well as other things are successiue, now consider
J pray, if he begat a child of phisick at one and twenty what
an increase will threescore and ten make; J should be sorry
to see this howse turn'd to an Hospitall to maintaine the
lame, and diseases of your own body, for if he beget any
thing they must be errors of nature, Dwarfs, Crook-backs or
Cripples.
Sr Oliv:
O Pagan Souldier! Sirrah J will pay you and J come
at you, hold me Antonio J shall fall heavily upon him else.
Cler:
Pay me? you will do more then my Captaine hath
done this twelue month then; but J will not take pay for
nought, J will discharg the other volley and doe your ears a
little more service.
Cœl:
No more, Jle hear no more.
Ant:
Good father let your legs suffice you till J haue spoak
He will be nought but thunder, if his tongue
Haue no controul, a word will silence him
And make this Gallant Gallyfoist goe off
Even like a potgun.
Sr Oliv:
J, and he were gon we would rayl with him, J am
glad J doe not hear him well, how seasonable is my deafnesse
now? and yet his cursed noise hath pierced into the wool,
J feel a whizing in my ears.
Cler:
Jle come neerer to you, nay you must hear; tis my
allejeance, as much as in me lies, to see the king haue lusty
subjects, and shall he be yours? what service can a piece of
this flesh doe his countrey, ha? You are his Sonne, 'twere
wisdome in you to haue him «to the Ba»th and st«ew him he
w»ill make an excellent codling, a wife is too violent a hot
this week, you were somewhat to be excus'd, but alas he
will lie bedriden a score of years, and be a dying as long as a
cat; h'ele breath the toothach into your mouth with a kisse,
and insinuate the palsey into your hand when he shakes it.
Now Sr with what charity can you marry one you know your
touch is more benumming then a Mandrake too; or you Lady
with what reason, that are in hot and youthfull fire can lie with
a flake of ice, obdurate ice, whom your warm side is not able
to dissolve into a drop of cold water; doe but whip away his
staff thus and he falls into his graue, where J'le leave him.
Exit Cleri:
Sr Oliv:
Nay let me lie J can fall no lower now.
Cœl:
Why, Delia.
(speaks as behind the Arras.)
Del:
Sweet Mr Shallow let me goe, my Lady calls,
Shall.
Let her call her heart out, thy Lady? & so art thou.
Enter Delia.
Cœl:
Who let this wild man in?
Sr Oliv:
T'is no matter who let him in, be sure you keep
him out O Rogue what a throat he had, a Trumpet wispers
in respect of him.
Del:
He pretended extream businesse to your Ladyship, and
desired my absence, or els J had usher'd him in.
Cœl:
Well make satisfaction in your care of ridding the
house of him.
Del:
He stay'd not here but streight flung into the street.
Ant:
Which way took he?
Towards the Exchang.
Sr Oliver:
Well, if J die within a twelve month and a day,
J'le prosecute him and hang him if there were no more men
in «the world.
Exeunt.»
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