University of Virginia Library

Scene 1.

Quick-sands. Buzzard. Madge.
Quic.
Out of my doors pernicious knave and harlot;
Avaunt I say.

Buz.
Good Master.

Mad.
Pray you worship.

Quic.
You have all the wages you are like to have.

Buz.
Nay, I dare take your word for that: you'l keep
All moneys fast enough whose ere it be,
If you but gripe it once.

Quic.
I am undone,
And sham'd for ever by your negligence,
Or malice rather for how can it be
She could depart my house without your knowledge.

Buz.
That cursed Mistris that ever she came here!
If I know of her flight, Sir, may these hands
Never be held up, but to curse you onely,
If you cashier me thus: because you have lost
your wife before she was well found, must we
Poor innocents be guilty?

Mad.
For my part,
Or ought I know she may as well be gone
Out o'the the chimney top as out o'door.

Quic.
The door must be your way; and find her out,
Or never find my door again. Be gone.

Buz., Mad.
O, you are a cruel Master.

Exit.
Quic.
So, so, so.
These cries are laughter to me: Ha, ha, ha.
I will be Master of my invention once,
And now be bold to see how rich I am
In my concealed wealth. Come, precious mark
Of beauty and perfection, at which envy
Enter Milicent.
And lust aim all their ranckling poysonous arrowes.
But Ile provide they nere shall touch thy blood.

Mil.
What, are your servants gone?

Quic.
Turn'd, turn'd away
With blame enough for thy suppos'd escape:
Which they will rumor so to my disgrace
Abroad, that all my envious adversaries
Will, betwixt joy of my conceiv'd misfortune
In thy dear loss, and their vain hopes to find thee,
Run frantick thorow the streets, while we at home
Sit safe, and laugh at their defeated malice.

Mil.
But now for my disguise.

Quic.
I, that, that, that.
Be but so good and gentle to thy self,
To hear me and be rul'd by me in that,
A Queens felicity falls short of thine.
Ile make thee Mistress of a Mine of treasure,
Give me but peace the way that I desire it—

Mil.
Some horrible shape sure that he conjures so.

Quic.
That I may fool iniquity, and Triumph
Over the lustful stallions of our time;
Bed-bounders, and leap-Ladies (as they terme 'em)
Mount-Mistresses, diseases shackle 'em,
And spittles pick their bones.

Mil.
Come to the point. What's the disguise, I pray you.

Qui.
First know, my sweet, it was the quaint devise
Of a Venetian Merchant, which I learnt
In my young factorship.

Mil.
That of the Moor?
The Backamore you spake of? Would you make
An Negro of me.

Qui.
You have past your word,
That if I urge not to infringe your vow
(For keeping this moneth your virginity)
You'l wear what shape I please. Now this shall both
Kill vain attemps in me, and guard you safe
From all that seek subversion of your honour.
Ile fear no powder'd spirits to haunt my house,
Rose-footed fiends, or fumigated Goblins
After this tincture's laid upon thy face,
'Twil cool their kidnies and allay their heats.

A box of black painting.
Mil.
Bless me! you fright me, Sir. Can jealousie
Creep into such a shape? Would you blot out
Heavens workmanship?

Qui.
Why think'st thou, fearful Beauty,
Has heaven no part in Ægypt? Pray thee tell me,
Is not an Ethiopes face his workmanship
As well as the fair'st Ladies? nay, more too.
Then hers, that daubs and makes adulterate beauty?
Some can be pleas'd to lye in oyles and paste,
At sins appointments, which is thrice more wicked.
This (which is sacred) is for sins prevention.
Illustrious persons, nay, even Queens themselves
Have, for the glory of a nights presentment,
To grace the work, suffered as much as this.

Mil.
Enough Sir, I am obedient.

Quic.
Now I thank thee.
Be fearless love; this alters not thy beauty,
Though, for a time obscures it from our eyes.
Thou maist be, while at pleasure, like the Sun;
Thou dost but case thy splendor in a cloud,
To make the beam more precious in it shines.
In stormy troubled weather no Sun's seen
Sometimes a moneth together: 'Tis thy case now.
But let the roaring tempest once be over,
Shine out again and spare not.

Mil.
There's some comfort.

Quic.
He begins to paint her.

Mil.
Some humbler habit must be thought on too.

Quic.
Please your own fancy. Take my keys of all;
In my pawn Wardrobe you shall find to fit you.

Mil.
And though I outwardly appear your Drudge,
'Tis fit I have a Maid for private service:
My breeding has not been to serve my self.
Exit. Mil.

Quic.
Trust to my care for that. One knock. In; in.
Is it to me your business?

Enter Phillis like a Cook-maid.
Phi.
Yea, if you
Be Master Quick-sands Sir; the Masters worship
Here o'the house.

Quic.
I am so. What's your business?

Phi.
'Tis upon that, Sir, I would speak Sir, hoping
That you will pardon my presumptuousness,
I am a Mother that do lack a service.

Quic.
You have said enough. I'le entertain no Mothers.
A good Maid servant, knew I where to find one.

Phi.
He is a knave, and like your worship, that
Dares say I am no Maid; and for a servant
(It ill becomes poor folks to praise themselves,
But) I were held a tydie one at home.

Quic.
O th'art a Norfolk woman (cry thee mercy)
Where Maids are Mothers, and Mothers are Maids.

Phi.
I have friends i'th'City that will pass their words
For my good bearing.

Quic.
Hast thou?

Phi.
Yes indeed, Sir.
I have a Cousen that is a Retorney
Of Lyons-Inn, that will not see me wrong'd;
And an old Aunt in Muggle-street, a Mid-wife,
That knows what's what as well's another woman.

Qui.
But where about in Norfolk wert thou bred?

Phi.
At Thripperstown Sir, near the City of Norwich.

Quick.
where they live much by spinning with the Rocks?

Phi.
Thripping they call it, Sir.

Quic.
Dost thou not know one Hulverhead that keeps
An Innocent in's house.

Phi.
There are but few innocents i'the countrey Sr.
They are given too much to law for that: what should
That Hulverhead be a councellor, Sir.

Quic.
No a husband man.

Phi.
Truly I know none.

Quic.
I am glad she do's not. How knew'st thou I wanted
A servant.

Phi.
At an old wives house in Bow-lane
That places servants, where a maid came in
You put away to day.

Quic.
All, and what said she?

Phi.
Truly to speak the best and worst, forsooth,
She said her fault deserv'd her punishment
For letting of her Mistress run away.

Quic.
The nevves goes current. I am glad o'that.

Phi.
And that you were a very strict hard man,
But very just in all your promises.
And such a master vvould I serve to chuse.

Quic.
This innocent countrey Mother takes me.
Her looks speak Wholesomness; and that old vvoman
That Bovv-lane purveyor hath fitted me
With serviceable ware these dozen years.
I'le keep her at the least this Gander moneth,
While my fair vvife lies in of her black face,
And virgin vovv; in hope she's for my turn.
Lust, vvhen it is restrained, the more tvvil burn.

Phi.
May I make bold to crave your ansvver, Sir?

Quic.
Come in, I'le talk vvith you.

Exit.
Phi.
Prosper novv my plot,
And hulk, thou art tvvixt vvind and vvater shot.

Exit.