 | The Wizard |  |
Sce: 2.
Enter Mr Shallow eating paper, & Hog.Shal:
Complements call you them? s'death they haue sent
me into the fields six times this day, and trouble my head
worse then my Taylors bill.
Hog:
They trouble your teeth rather, why doe you eat them
Mr Shallow.
Shal:
So, now J haue 'em by heart; O Hog, a pregnant Sow
doth not teem with more labour the tith pig then my braine
doth these complements.
J wonder you will humour the Ladies so much,
methinks your own phrase is not so barbarous.
Shal.
Truly yet they say it is no trim phrase, it smells of the
Countrey abominably they tell me, now how that smells
J know not: and what's your best tongue perfume Hog?
o your Ladies will talk so sweetly, and sing so sweetly,
and doe every thing so sweetly, sure they talk with sugar
plums in their mouth; Sirrah, the Lady Cœlia would haue
me gather in my mouth, 'twould much abate the broadnesse
of my speech she saith, and her sister tells me downright
J am an asse, didst thou ever hear an asse speak?
Hog:
You are the first that J e're heard moue the question:
had you been ruld by me that brought you hither you should
haue had a Lady by this; but you are obstinate, and now see
what comes o'nt: you haue been a Sutor to the Lady Cœlia,
how doe you fancy her?
Shall
Faith very ill, J haue a monstrous bad fancy.
Hog:
Js she not very reserv'd?
Shal:
Not for me J fear.
Hog:
What say you to another Lady?
Shall.
Who her Sister? hang her, she'l never come to good,
'tis shee that giues me all these Complements.
Hog:
No, No, a girle of eighteen, one that n'ere pig'd yet,
She that J wisht you first to, no jeerer of your qualities, but
an humble lowly minded thing, no complementer; one that
will doe whats fitting; withdraw a little yonder's your
tormenter.
and with her the dutifull sweet natur'd peice J haue all this
while limn'd out unto you, obserue how respectfull to her
Lady she is: you might keep her under as you please.
Shall:
J but she is no Lady is she?
Hog:
What can't you make her the Lady of your thoughts
and affections, 'tis ordinary now a dayes to create Ladies.
Shall:
She shall be then my ordinary Ladie, and the rest
my Extraordinary.
Pen:
J wonder where my servant Shallow is?
Hog:
Mark but with what contempt she names you servant:
Shall.
Nay she'le talk thus to my face.
Hog:
Delia hath espy'd us, she knows how to carry her
self, J haue instructed her.
(Aside)
Del:
The Gentleman surely is perplext of late with your
Complements, he is alwayes biting his nayls.
Shall:
Jn troth and so J am, and yet J haue them not at my
fingers ends.
Hog:
Mark the others modesty.
Pen:
O 'tis a soft pated Logger-head.
Shal:
Mark her nay she's right.
Pen:
He hath been a conning half a score lines this week.
Shal.
Nay that's a lye they are a dozen.
Pen:
J wonder what Countrey this fellow was born in, what
aire so grosse could clot a fellows brains thus, J would haue
taught a horse more in this space.
Hog:
Will you be made the Hackney for a female witt to
ride on thus? S'life J would kick, wince, and doe any thing
rather; come follow me, look big and scurvily on her and
since she baffles you out of talk, trie and she can dash you
out of countenance, but cast some few smiles upon the other
Pen:
Why doth Hog present his brother Boreas thus blustringly?
ha, ha, ha! how like a bag-pipe player he looks.
Ex: Hog & Shallow.
Del:
Madam why doe you loue this clown? or if you doe
loue him, why doe you abuse him thus?
Pen:
Peace foole, thou do'st not know the fashion yet, there
is a fashion in wooing as in other things, and this it is to doe
all things by contrary's, 'tis poor and kitching like to come
to downe right and plaine tearms of Loue, your true Ladies
abhor it, fie upon it, upon one meeting, or over a Hogdsen
cake to clap up a marriage, and the next day to church, 'tis
dull there is no sport in it.
Del:
What doe you call sport Madam if marriage be not?
Pen:
The time of wooing goes far beyond it; those are the
golden dayes of our command, once wiues and ever servants,
no, no, Virgins are the absolute's Monarchs in the world,
but that their reign never lasts long; Js it not braue to be
call'd Goddesse, Empresse, Queene, Nymph? Lady is the
lowest stile, but where are those after the Wedding day?
then Sweetheart, or wife are Holiday words, we never hear
the former but in an Jrony or scoff.
Del:
Still J wonder then why you doe so long to be rid of
this state you so highly extoll, and loose it to such a Mushrome
as this.
Pen:
That's to much for you to ask; but your Chambermayds
must know all; thy Lady wench my Sister is the
cause of it; She is the Lure spoils my game quite, the only
star forsooth the whole Citty gazes on, and till she is eclipsed
by some happy interposition, J may wear a mask, for no
body looks after me. alass my drift was to pull off this fool
Del:
This was happyly spoke, and shall goe all to him.
(Aside)
Pen:
He is an excellent subject for an abusive witt to play
on, and that J like him for; J should not loose one inch of
pride by marrying him, which makes me use him to the word
servant betimes, that it may not be a stranger to him hereafter;
come this is my sisters day of answer to her Sutors, let
us know the conclusion.
Exeunt.
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