 | The Wizard |  |
Sce. 1.
Enter Cœlia and the Cook.Cœl:
J doe command thee in a mistriss name,
And powerfull word of servant; speak the truth
Did he (before thou acquainst him) tell thy losse.
Cook.
He did, exactly to a silver spoone
And cald me Cook to; nay he told me more
Then J was glad to hear.
Cœl:
Nothing about me?
Cook.
About my self; a Pasty scolding hot
All down my Christmas cloths must run
A judgment great J can not beare nor shun.
Cœl:
Yes another sute will saue thy cloths.
Cook.
O no Madame; nay J feare worse prodigies, for all the
eggs J broke for your Ladyships caudle were adle, and the
meat upon my fackings doth not drop currantly; the loyns of
mutton hardly yeild sufficient to baste 'um, and candles are
cheap already: last night J dreamt of nothing but fish; well
Hogs face shall pay for this; and yet he bid me haue mercy
on the slaue.
Enter Penelope.
Cœl:
O Sister! thou art come in happy time,
Sustaine them; ease me or J die with mirth.
Pen:
What fits are these? but now no lead so heavy
Now lighter then the aire or fire.
Cœl:
Cook?
Cook:
Madam:
Cœl:
Art thou not gone?
Cook:
Yes if J knew my errand.
Cœl:
Bid Will bring me my coach, yet stay
That is too slow, run quickly buy me feathers
And cause my maid make wings, and tack them on
Some on my feet and arms.
Cook:
What kind of wings?
Cœl:
Such as the wind and lightning flie withall,
And yet alass those are not swift enough,
J must haue such as help the flight of thought,
Of Louers thoughts, when after long delay
And curious weeving of most strang events
Theire e'ne now shipwrackt souls doe reach the port
Of joies unchangeable.
Cook:
Please you Madam J'le saue that labour, plounce but
into my Feather tub, and you'l come out a Lady bird streight.
Pen:
She is transported, you told me Cœlia
Jn this excesse of comfort, J had share,
Giue me enough; J'le bear as long a part
As you'l impose.
Cœl:
No, J can spare none now;
But like an almost famisht creature, think
No plenty able to appease the rage
Of my huge appetite.
Hog:
Now am J to performe a peice of service n'ere a rogue
in England would doe but my self; they are dull rascalls, and
know indeed how to steale, but with what credit? they dare
not stand to it and make good there trade, now J profess
my self a theif, which they dare as well be hang'd and doe,
and betray my self to the law and gallows, that J may escape
both; they are undone if they be once taken, J am undone if
J be not taken; this is your sublime roguery.
Cook:
Madam pray stand aside, now must J haue some
trick to draw off this fellows boots which are strapt with
silver spoons; friend Hog whither so fast ha?
Hog:
O J confesse, good—
S'life J am undone J thought the hand of law had clapt me
on the shoulder; O Mr Cook J protest you scar'd me, J cannot
endure to be toucht J am so ticklish.
Cook:
J, but oh you confesse, come confess and be hangd.
Hog:
Why J said J would confesse, but you put it out of
my head, and a cough hath taken me of late J cannot speak
without interruption of my lungs.
Cook:
Nay but confess man.
Hog:
And to that such a stich in my side, oh, oh, oh my
skin crumples and is gather'd togeather closer then your
breeches, my sides frizzle like burnt parchment; doe you not
perceaue it?
Cook:
Yes, 'tis all on a rustle as your boots are Hog; but
J'le tell you a remedy.
Hog:
What J pray?
Cook:
Capring as J doe.
J cannot rise from the ground the stitch has sowd me
to it.
Cook:
Yes, yes, come aloft sir, J protest you haue an
excellent shake with your legs, J beleiue you can cut a caper
well; sure your spindle shanks or your boots are lin'de with
tin? you need no spur, your boots gingle enough; good Hog
draw one of them off J'le try if J can match it.
Hog:
My boots are leather Sir.
Cook:
Nay but the inside sure is Okamy; come, come, J'le
be your drawer for once; why look Maddam, pray come neere,
J haue not seen a boot better lin'd; and they were fellowes
now what might they be worth? they come of very easily
with no stretch to your leg do they?
Pen:
But to his neck J fear they will.
Cœl:
O six and six very well disposd.
Hog:
Now my ransome is to come, some rogue would haue
stunck of hanging now, whereas J look to come cleanly off.
Cœl:
Goe to the pump with him quickly,
And cleans my house of such an unwasht slaue.
Cook:
Hog come a trough, a trough you must come to your
wash againe
Hog:
S'life do you call this comeing off?
Exeunt Hog. Cook.
Now can you blame me if with more then wings
J hast to such a man.
Pen:
Alass not J,
When that your businesse is to get a husband
All speed is not enough, this stay is sin
And to talk longer Capitall;
Cœl:
Yet stay;
Although this rogue is a sufficient proof
Of his misterious art, we will haue more;
We two will chang apparell, you as Cœlia
And J as you, we'l seek our fortunes out
Jf he descry this plot we need not doubt.
Exeunt.
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