 | The New Academy, Or, the New Exchange |  |
Act. IV.
Scœn. 1.
Nehemiah, Ephraim.Neh.
Ephraim
, thou hast made me a man, both
without, witnesse this sword, and within,
witnesse this precious book, which I have gotten almost
by heart already.
Eph.
But sir, beware you fall not back again
Into your childish follies: but go forwards
In manly actions: for non progredi est regredi.
Neh.
I know the meaning of that too, Ephraim.
That's once a man and twice a childe. But if I
turne childe again, while I have teeth in my head, I'le
give Mrs. Blithe leave to dig them out with Sugar-plums,
as she almost did these two of 'hem yesterday,
with her knuckles. I would they stuck both in her
bum for't, till I were married to her, and that shall be
shortly, they say, I wo not turne boy again for that
trick.
Eph.
I hope you will not.
Neh.
Thou mayest be sure on't Ephraim: for if I
would turne boy again, I ha' not wherewithal to set up
again. Thou sawest that, assoon as I had tasted the
sweetnesse of this delicious book here, I tore and burnt
all my ballats, as well the godly as the ungodly. In
my conscience as many as might have furnish't three
Bartholomew Faires, and then for love of this sword,
I broke and did away all my storehouse of tops, gigs,
balls, cat and catsticks, pot-guns, key-guns trunks,
tillers, and all; and will I turne boy again canst think?
yet I am half sorry, being towards a wife, that I did
have been sav'd by't. And that is a manly and a good
husbandly consideration, I take it. But hang covetousnesse:
There comes not a mouth into the world, but
there's meat for't; and if I finde 'em not play games,
their mother will finde friends, that shall, for them and
her selfe too.
Eph.
I'm glad to heare such good things to come
from you,
To manage my affair. You know my minde, sir.
Neh.
Amardla Ephraim, 'twill be hard to compasse.
For the old Knight will never let me have his Neece,
unlesse he have my mother. He meanes to truck for
her, though, I confesse, I had rather call thee father
then any man, I know, yet I know not how to bring
it about, unlesse he marry her first; and then she be
weary of him, and take thee afterwards to mend her
match. I think it must be so, Amardla Ephraim.
Eph.
Now you flie out again, that's as impossible,
as 'tis unlawful.
La.
Within.
Negh. Negh.
Neh.
Peace, my mother comes.
La.
Where are you childe? Neh.
Neh.
I hear her neighing after me, I'le do all I can
for thee, Amardla Ephraim.
Enter Lady.
La.
Look you sonne, what kinde Sir Swithin has
sent you. A dancing frog, you would think it were alive,
and a ballet of burning the false prophets before
they be tried. And another fearful one of the new
Antichrist.
Neh.
Hang bawbles, burn ballets, I am a man, and
defie boyes tricks.
A sudden change, I pray it be good.
Neh.
Tell me of toyes? I have a sword: offer me
ballets? I have a book. Speak to me of Sir Swithin,
I'le talk to you of Ephraim that gave me these blessings;
and is fitter to be my father, (so he is) then the
foolishest Knight of 'em all.
[Reades.
La.
Blesse my sonne from too much learning. That
book has done him no good, I doubt. He talks and
looks so wildly o' the sudden.
Neh.
A ha!
La.
What book is't. Let me see it.
Neh.
I'le tell you first. It is a book all of Bulls, Jests
and Lies Collected by an A. S. Gent. Mother
f'sooth, there be such things in it! If you never
reade it, it is the rarest book that ever you read in
your life. Open it where you will, and you shall learn
something. As here now. One refusing to ear Cheese-cakes,
was ask't his reason. He told them he lov'd the
flesh well, but was afeard of the bones. Then here's
the next to't. One asking whence Lobsters were
brought: his fellow repli'd, one might easily know their
countrey by their coat. They are fetch't from the
red sea. Now would I might never eat more of 'hem,
as well as I love 'hem, if I know what Cheese-cakes
were made of, or from whence Lobsters came before.
La.
Is this your book-learning? In troth thou
mak'st me laugh.
Neh.
Laugh on, good Mother. And while you are
in the merry mood, let me speak a good word for Ephraim.
I have a minde f'sooth, because he has made
me a man, to make him my father, f'sooth.
La.
What, what! How now.
How durst you sirrah, move my sonne in this? ha.
Eph.
Madam.
La.
Is it but so? ha!
Pray f'sooth hear him speak. He can speak Poetry
(he sayes) as well as Knight Whimlbie. Speak
Ephraim.
Eph.
Madam, Faire truth have told
That Queens of old
Have now and then
Married with private men.
A Countesse was no Blusher.
To wed her Usher.
Without remorse
A Lady took her Horse-
Keeper in wedlock. These did wisely know,
Inferiour men best could their work below.
Neh.
Mother f'sooth, Is it not fine?
Eph.
Nay, Madam, more then so, I'le further go
La.
But you shall not, Sirrah. What, what! how
now! Is't but up and ride? ha! Out of my doors
thou varlet.
Neh.
I must out too then, mother I am afraid,
oh.—
La.
Good Neh. be pacified, I'le give him a better
answer.
Here comes Sir Swithin.
Enter Whimlbie, Blithe.
Whi.
Ha, ha, ha, Madam, ha, ha, ha.
[Kisse.
La.
I marry Sir Swithin. This is better then O Madam,
O—, when you wash't your handkerchiefs in
the suds, and then to wring hem out in Poetry.
Whi.
My tears with the memory of the dead are all
fallen into Lethe; and nothing but joy left in me,
sinc my hopes are confirm'd in your lap. And hang
Madam, here is a draught of my marriage-instrument
to your lap.
Eph.
His instrument being drawn, I must put up
my pipe and be gone.
Ex.
VVhi.
And here is another draught for sweet Master
Nehemiah, for my Neece Blithes Joincture.
Neh.
O but she sayes she will not have me.
VVhi.
When did she say so?
Neh.
Now, now, she spat the word out of her
mouth. And I say, if she ha' not me, you shall whine
both your eyes out before you have my mother; and
see ne're the worse, I warrant you.
Neh.
A crosse marriage, or no marriage, I say
still.
La.
I say so too, sonne, Sweet boy, be content.
Whi.
Blithe. You spoke well of him behinde his
back: and made me think you lov'd him, and would
marry him.
Bli.
Behinde his back, I may do much to please you.
But when I look upon him, he turnes my stomack
worse then a fool made of soure milk.
La.
Marry Gip, Mrs Queasie, my sonne's as sweet
as you, I hope, and as wife as you. And suck't as sweet
milk as ever the good Cow your mother gave.
Bli.
Ha, ha, ha.
Whi.
Patience, good Madam.
Eph.
I hope the crosse marriage is crost. This is
untoward wooing.
La.
Uds so! do you flirt out your unsavoury comparisons
upon my sonne?
Bli.
Flirt not you at me, Madam, lest I flirt your
milk-sop under the snotty nose here.
Neh.
Yes, and I have a sword, and you ha' got ne're
a one.
La.
You wo' not will you, ha! Do you flie at
him, ha!
Fear not, good Madam.
La.
Ephraim, save my boy.
Bli.
Ha, ha, ha.—
Whi.
She shall not hurt him. Leave her to me, good
Madam.
La.
I ever fear'd he was not long-liv'd he was so
witty. And now I feare, she will be the death of him.
I would not he should marry her for a million.
Neh.
Say not so, mother. I love her better and
better still.
And I must and will marry her, I take my death on't aforehand.
La.
O me! he is bewitch't to her.
Whi.
Leave all to me, dear Madam.
La.
As I am to you, I think, Sir Swithin.
Whi.
Let me alone with her: I'le win her, and he
shall wear her feare not. As I was saying, Madam, she
speaks as well of him behinde his back, as your owne
heart can wish. And told me she was content to marry
him.
La.
Behinde his back? did she so?
Whi.
Yes truly, Madam.
Neh.
Loe you there, mother, let her marry me behind
my back then: And when we are marri'd, I'le make
her stick to't before my face, I warrant you; or if she
will make back-play. I'le play at nothing but back-gammons
with her.
La.
Well, Heaven blesse thee, thou art but too good
for her.
Whi.
Speak gently, Neece, I charge you.
Bli.
Madam, I hope your Ladiship shall finde me too
good for him. If e're he has me.
La.
Ha! say you so?
Whi.
She meanes in well-doing, Madam.
Nay then, I thank you Mrs. Blithe. Assuring you
that you shall be no way so good to him, but I will
be as good to you.
Neh.
Agreed again of all hands. But look how she
turnes and keeps cut like my Sparrow. She will be my
back Sweet-heart still I see, and love me behind.
Whi.
She is yet raw, and has not much been abroad
to see the manners of the time. In which my melancholy
has been her main hinderance. But Madam, there
is now that is worth all our sight and observation;
A new Academy, where they say, the newest and
most courtly carriage and behaviour is taught and practised
both for young Gentlemen and women. Have you
not heard on't?
La.
Yes Sir Swithin; and that the French tongue is
taught there with great alacrity; and my sonne is
wish't thither, but soft I warrant you.
Whi.
But let him see it: at least in our company it
will embolden him; I mean to carry my Neece thither.
I have been a Lover of Arts and Exercises; and know
somewhat since my youth. Pray let us spend one houre
of this afternoon there.
La.
Pardon me good sir Swithin.
Neh.
But he shall not mother if you love me: for
I mean to perfect my dancing there; and to learn
French there; For I mean when I am married to travel
into France. But I will first be perfect in the tongue I
shall learne it the sooner when I am there you know.
Pray let us go to th' Acomedy, what dee call it?
Whi.
The Academy.
La.
Say you so sonne? then come sir Swithin. Come
Mrs. Blithe, we will all go.
Bli.
I'le wait upon you, though my heart sayes
no.
Ex.
Scœn. 2.
Enter Joyce, Gabriella.Joy.
O mine own heart! how near were we both
fallen
Gab.
Thanks for our delivery!
We were upon the brink of main destruction.
Joy.
Was ever such a Friend as this mine Vncle?
Pretending us his children too, and call'd us daughters
To those he bargain'd with to sell our Maidenheads?
Gab.
'Twas a most damnable practise fie upon
him.
Joy.
And had the Monsieurs been as capable
Of our Virginities, as he was of
Their moneys, how had we then resisted.
Gab.
By Venus (mine own heart) my Gentleman
Came up so close to me, that if my voice
Had not been stronger then mine armes (O me!
I tremble for it yet) I had been vanquish't.
Joy.
But did you note the vertue of the Gentlemen?
When they were sensible of our feares and tears,
How gently they desisted and with what humanity,
When they perceiv'd how we had heen betray'd,
They pitied our conditions; and woo'd honestly
Our loves in way of marriage. Provided that
Our births and fortunes might no way disparage
Theirs, being free and generous.
Gab.
I confesse
I love 'hem both so well, that if they prove
(As they pretend they are not) our inferiours
In blood and worth, I would take either of 'em.
Joy.
Troth (mine own heart) 'tis just the same
with me.
How equally all our affections strike.
We both love them, they both love us alike.
But peace. Cash, though he has done us good service,
Must not know all. How goes it within Cash?
Enter Cash.
Cash.
And why Cash pray. Ha' not you chang'd
your names
And is not your Uncle Strigood now become
Your father, by the name of Mr. Lightfoot
The nimble dancing Master? And must I still
Carry the name of Cash? and having lost
My nature too, in having no cash left?
(Pox o'the dice) call me Mr. Outlash.
Joy.
My father will fetch you home with an Inlash,
One o'these dayes.
Cash.
But after you, faire Mistris,
Now to your question for the squares within.
Joy.
I with the Frenchmen, and my Uncle Strigood.
Cash.
Your father Lightfoot, you forget agen.
There's a drawn match made: For the Monsieurs
Have ta'ne their money again: And you have still
Your Maidenheads, I hope. But to have heard
The coile they kept, the wrangle, and the stir;
And how the young Blades put the old one to't;
Would ha' perplext you more then keeping of
Your Maidenheads from men you love.
Gab.
You cannot tell that.
Cash.
O how the old man chafes that you would
offer
And not to make his bargain good; and then
Of his own blood and honour in his children.
(They knew they said some parents in their countrey,
After their children were turn'd whores, would share
To live upon the profits, but to sell
Their soules before they were damned, fie; fie, fie, fie).
Till he confest indeed you were none of his.
But children of some friends of his deceast,
Left to his care for breeding; which he had
Plenteously given, and thought it might seem reasonable
To raise his money out of you agen.
Joy.
What an old devil is this?
Cash.
Baser and baser still.
The Monsieurs cri'd, and swore if they could finde
Your Parents were Gentle and vertuous,
Being their first Loves, they would marry you,
To free you from this miserable thraldome.
Gab.
Brave honest Gentlemen.
Gab.
Be advis'd though, Mistresse.
Joy.
I hope I shall.
Cash.
Beware of Travellers, many passe abroad
For gallant fellowes that have run their countrey,
For picking pockets.
Joy.
And some you know at home
For cozening their Masters.
Cash.
You are pleas'd.
But you have known my love; for Gabriella
Let 'hem share her betwixt 'hem. You and I
Made one, may soon make peace with the old man
At home.
Joy.
O Rogue! I'le tell you more anon Cash.
Stri.
Come Gentlemen, Monsieur Papillion.
And Monsieur Galliard, all friends, all friends.
Pap.
Agreed, agreed, sir.
Gall.
And agree for me.
Agree poor tout.
Stri.
Chear up your faces Girles.
'Twas but my trial of your chastity.
And since you have stood firme, I am proud of you.
Trust me, 'twas but to try you.
Gall.
Wee wee All, but for try. Trimount, trimount.
No more, but all for try: no man can tinck,
But 'twas too very moshe to take two hundred
Crowns for two pusillages, no, no, was but
For try: but and she had not squeek and scrash too
Like to de leetel chat, I had Trimount
One, two, tree, five time, for all your try.
Stri.
VVhat's past let be forgot. According to
Agreement, Gentlemen, y'are now content
To joyne with us in Academick fellowship,
And for your pastime professe Art and Science,
As we do for our profit: y'are expert,
I finde; and shall winne wonder of our Nation,
To your own much delight out of their follies.
Cash.
And then for Gamesters, Gentlemen. If you'll
play.
Pap.
VVe are planted to our wish.
Gall.
All very good.
All very good; but I would see thee first.
VVhat Ladies will come here to practise complement.
Stri.
You are still hot upon the female Monsieur Galliard
Monsieur Papillion here flies over 'hem.
Han.
Ha, ha, ha, what will this world come to?
Stri.
Landlady, the newes?
Han.
The old will to't.
As well as the young I see.
Stri.
To what Landlady?
He takes her aside. And that while the young men and maids court and confer at tother side.
Han.
To fashion following;
A Reverend Lady
Of fifty five; and a Knight of threescore
And upwards, are come hither to learn fashion.
Stri.
Do you know their names?
Han.
Yes, yes: and them; 'tis that
Begets my wonder.
'Tis the Lady Nestlecock, and one Sir Swithin VVhimlby.
Stri.
VVit be merciful unto us.
Enter Hannah, Cash.
Han.
The Ladies man's without: who came to know
if the house were ready to entertain 'hem; do you
know 'em Mr. Lightfoot?
Stri.
I have heard o'th' Lady. Cash, see if it be Ephraim.
[He looks out.
By any meanes, his not return to them may keep 'hem back.
Cash.
'Tis he, I see him hither.
Stri.
Landlady, is your husband come from ducking.
Han.
Yes, overjoy'd with the good sport he has
had.
That fellow; and hearst me, spice his cup,
I mean, grave Ephraims cup with this same powder,
'Twill lay him asleep, and quickly.
Cash.
I know the trick on't.
Ex.
Stri.
And Landlady, when the Knight and Lady
come,
Han.
That I shall sir.
Pap.
'Tis then an absolute contract. I am yours.
Joy.
And I am yours as firme as faith can binde.
Gall.
To which we are de witnesse. Be so for us,
I am her husband, And she is my wife,
Speak you.
Gab.
'Fore Heaven, I do acknowledge it,
But sir, the Church must be observ'd,
Gall.
For that.
We'll send for one Minister that shall marry
Us all at once. One kisse till then shall serve.
[Kisse.
Stri.
'Tis well done Monsieurs, I no sooner turn
My back, but you are on the Damosels lips.
Gall.
A leetel in de honest way will serve,
But he shall know no-ting.
Stri.
On with your Masques Maids,
And take especial heed you blush not through 'hem.
For here are some at hand will put us to't.
Joy.
'Tis not my father, nor my Lady Aunt?
Stri.
I cannot promise you. Be bold and safe.
Beare it out bravely, or our school breaks up
Immediately: and we are broke for ever,
Besides, there is no starting.
Gab.
That's enough
To make a coward fight, and mine own heart;
We must stand stoutly to't, we lose our loves else.
Joy.
Well, I am arm'd.
Gab.
And I.
Fall into complement.
Masques on.
Enter Whimlby, Lady, Neh. Blithe.
La.
I muse we lost my man thus.
Neh.
By your leave, sir.
Are you the Regent of this Academy?
Stri.
I am sir.
Whim.
And are those of your Assistants.
Stri.
Yes sir, and all Professors of Court-discipline,
By the most accurate, yet more familiar
Rules, then have ever yet been taught by any,
For quick instruction both of young and old.
Whim.
You promise very fairly. For us old ones,
We know and could have done things in our youth,
Which still we have a minde to: but we leave
The practice to our young ones: Here's a paire
Would faine be at it. We'll pay their admittance.
La.
But I'd be glad to see first by your leave,
Some probability of what they shall learn.
Stri.
And reason good, good Madam. Pray observe
there.
Pap.
Fair star of courtship, my unworthy humble self, a
Profest servant to the integrity of beauty, makes this
Clear testimony of your merits, that every eye that sees you,
Owes you his heart for tribute, and that unjustly your beholders live, that live not in your service.
Neh.
Mother f'sooth, is not this French?
La.
Peace childe. Hear more on't.
Joy.
Noble sir, you are so exactly deserving in the
opinion of all righteous judgements, that the least syllable
of your faire testimony, is able to re-edifie the ruines
of a decayed commendation.
Whim.
The best that ever I heard, since I woo'd my
Grissel.
Was not that a sweet bout, sir?
Whim.
Yes, yes, it puts me in minde of some sweet
bouts I had with one before I married her.
Stri.
Was he married my Sister troe?
Pap.
I am forc't to give you over, Madam, you have
such a preventing and preoccupying wit in all things.
Neh.
That goes like English Mrs. Blithe. I could
learn some of that me thinks.
Bli.
Best tell your mother so; she may rejoyce
at it.
Stri.
There, Lady, was a taste of sweet complement
between persons equally affected. May it please
you now to let your sonne passe upon this damosel.
Who being to her a stranger, and raw (as I imagine)
in courtship, shall meet with reprehension, that may
be for his instruction.
La.
Do Neh. speak to her.
Whim.
Put of your hat and say—.
Neh.
What! and her masque on?
La.
That was well-said. Why are they mask'd, I
pray sir?
Stri.
We are commanded it by the policy of wise
authority; for feare young heires might fall in love
with 'em, and sink their fortunes.
La.
You have well satisfied me.
Neh.
What should I say to one I never saw.
Whim.
When I was young and bold, I would have
said, Lady, you are most auspiciously encountred. And
speak it boldly.
Neh.
Lady, you are most suspiciously accoutred, I
speak it boldly.
Whim.
Auspiciously encountred man.
Neh.
Auspiciously encountred woman, I say.
Gab.
I commiserate your encounter. 'Tis a most
hungry, verminous, impoverish't word sir. It seems you
are a stranger by't, to the Innovation of courtship.
What should I say to that now?
La.
He's a weak scholar forsooth, and would be glad
to learn.
Gab.
The acknowledgement of his weaknesse is the
first greece of gradation to perfection, and his gladnesse
the scaling-ladder of resolution.
Neh.
Pray f'sooth, can you teach me a complement
to offer you sugar-plums, and eat 'hem my selfe: to
save my manners and my plums too?
La.
What a wag it is?
Gab.
What walking dunghil is this? made of the
dust swept from the house of ignorance.
La.
What, what! how now, ha? you are a Flapse
to terme my sonne so, ha!
Stri.
O good Madam. This is but school play.
La.
I'le put her by her school-tricks and noonly
unmask, but unskin her face too, and she come over
my heire apparent with such Billingsgate Complements.
Pap.
Sweet Madam, no harm was meant, and nothing
said in earnest: 'Twas meerly but school practice,
but to shew the sweet young Gentleman how he
might be subject to the scorne of Court, before he be
seen in Complement.
La.
Say you so?
Pap.
'Twas told your Ladiship before, that by reprehension
he might finde instruction.
Whim.
Right Madam; For no Fencer learnes his
Science before he receive some hits and knocks too:
Oh, I have had many.
La.
Nay, I am satisfied, and pray, that my rash errour
may prove pardonable Lady
Gab.
Rather let me implore your mercy, Madam—.
Stri.
'Tis well, 'tis well. Lets hear an Interchange
or two now, of complemental acknowledgement of
this faire one, who seems not yet to have ta'ne notice
of us, but looks o the ground still.
Bli.
'Tis not to finde a fescue, sir, among the
Rushes.
Stri.
Sharp and sudden. She has a good wit I see.
Whim.
Observe, good Blithe, observe.
Gab.
Can your poor servant expresse acknowledgement
enough, Lady, for favours so incessantly heap't
upon her, besides the accumulation of many secret benefits?
Joy.
I cannot but admire, Madam, your noble and
illustrious Gratitude, that can give beauty to benefits
of so low a birth and condition.
Whim.
O my Grissel comes to my minde agen, she
was the gratefullest woman.
Gab.
If such favours, Madam, should passe under an
humble name, Honour would grow idle, and a thankful
Nature beguil'd of her emploiment.
Joy.
You'll make my zeale hereafter, too bashful to
serve your most curious acknowledgement.
Bli.
Curious acknowledgement! There was a thrid
drawn out.
Gab.
I am bound by many kindnesses, Madam, to celebrate
the faire memory of you; as the trouble of your
Coach twice in one day, besides those inestimable
Jewels, the Monkey and Dormouse your Ladiship
sent me.
Neh.
I would you could lend me a sight of 'hem forsooth,
I love such things devoutly.
Joy.
You do but open a privie door to my thankful
remembrance, Madam, for the bounty of your Squirrel
and Paraquitoe.
Bli.
Fagh, shut that privie-door.
And shut in the Squirrel and the Paraquitoe
to be stifled, shall she? O that I could see 'hem!
Stri.
Now Madam, and Sir Knight, Is not this neat
and handsom?
Whim.
Truly, truly, 'tis most admirable pretty.
Stri.
Nay, if you heard our Lectures, saw our
Daunces.
Observ'd our Rules for fashion and attire,
Our many exact postures and dimensions,
Fit to be us'd by way of Salutation,
Of courtesie, of honour, of obeisance,
To all degrees of man or womankind,
From the low bent of vassalage, to the head
Of towring Majesty, you should admire.
La.
But do you reade and teach all these to your
scholars?
Stri.
Stand forth, Monsieur Galliard. Stay w'are
interrupted.
Up maids, and quickly; or 'tis not your Masques
Can keep you undiscover'd. Go, be ready,
With Musick and your voices, when I call to yee.
Ex. Joy. Gab.
La.
Why are we interrupted? pray proceed.
Neh.
Mother, it is my naughty Aunt, so 'tis.
La.
No matter, sonne, we'll take no notice of
her.
I wonder at the boldnesse of the drudge though.
Ra.
I can turne taile too, as well as the great Lady.
Hah.
Val.
And do so, Mystresse, give her a broadside.
VVell-said, we'll make our partie good, I warrant you.
Sir, we have heard your Fame; and love your
Arts.
Which drew on our Intrusion.
Stri.
To me and to the place you are all welcom.
Val.
And so to all I hope, chiefly to you,
Good Madam Dowager, hoping in good time
I may get good, by doing much good upon you
How likes your Lip: my complement.
La.
Do you bring your rude companions to affront
me? Are you so hot? you stir up your cinders before
they be cak't.
Val.
Still in the Kitchin-dialect.
Ra.
No ruder then your self, hah.
Val.
I brought her, Madam,
To advance my suit to you.
La.
Will you see me abus'd
Sir Swithin, look to your Neece, the t'other talks to her.
Whi.
Kinde merry Gentlemen, Madam, when I
was young I would have done the like. Their coming
hither, was as ours was to note th' instructions
Stri.
We shall do so, sir.
Val.
But sir, your Gentlewomen,
Tbat past upon our entrance, where are they?
Stri.
Sir, they were call'd in haste to private practice
With some great Ladies in an upper-room.
Val.
Umh—private practice. Well, I shall
know all.
Stri.
And they being absent, we shall for the present
Only deliver by these Gentlemen,
Some heads of Sciences.
Entreat you take a taste of a collation.
And all most fairly welcome. Speak Monsieur Galliard,
The heads of our chief Arts. Your silence, pray you.
Gal.
The first is the due carriage of the body,
The proper motion of the head, hand, leg,
To every several degree of person,
From the Peasant unto the Potentate;
To your inferiours how and when to use the Nod,
The Hum, the Ha, the Frown, the Smile,
Upon the fit occasion; and to your equals,
The exactest, newest, and familiar motions
Of eye, of hand, of knee, of arme and shoulder,
That are in Garbe, in Congee, Crindge, or Shrug,
In common Courtesie, or Complement,
Lastly, for your Addresses to Superiours.
The Honours, Reverence, or Obeysances,
Proper unto the quality or estate
Of person whatsoever. And so much
For carriage and behaviour. In the next place
You shall have rules for the more graceful wearing
Of your Apparel, with the natural Reasons,
Why some mans hat does better in his hand
Then on his head, and why his coat hangs nearer
Upon his elbow, then upon his back,
As also Reasons for Tunes bringing up
And marriages, together of the fashions
Of man and woman, how his Caller, and her
Black-bag, came on together; how his pocket-combe,
To spruce his Perrule, and her Girdle-glasse,
To order her black pashes, came together;
How his walking in the streets without a cloak
And her, without a man came up together,
Of these, and of a hundred more the like.
We shall demonstrate reasons and instructions.
The next are skills in instruments, song and dancing.
Stri.
Enough, those shall be made familiar to you
By voice and action instantly. A Song there.
SONG.
Whim.
Admirable pretty still.
Er.
Are these your Gentlewomens voices, sir?
Stri.
They are
Val.
What do you keep 'hem up like Nuns,
To sing and not be seen?
Stri.
Not alwayes sir.
But may it please yee Gentlemen and Ladies,
Now to observe the practice of our feet
In active dancing.
Neh.
That came I to learn,
And to speak French, do you think sir, you can bring
My mouth to handle the French tongue handsomly.
La.
He's apt to learn, sir, I can tell you that.
Gal.
Yes, I shall bring his Mout to it. But his Mout
is yet a leetel too wide. But he shall have some of de water
dat de woman use for anoder ting, to bring it better
together, and he shall speak like de Fransh
Lady.
Neh.
Pray sir, if you can like the Ladies daughter of
Paris properlie.
Er.
Now Val. thou knowest the way.
Val.
I wonder sir, 'Mongst all your Arts and Sciences
You have so little judgement in a face,
Does his mouth appear wide to you? what false glasse
Are your eyes made of?
Gab.
What you mean?
Er.
Nay, friend.
Pray sir take no offence. Here was none meant.
Val.
Slander is no offence then. He has injur'd,
By breathing an aspersion on that face,
The life of beauty, and the soule of sweetnesse.
Wide mouth Y---.
Gal.
Begar Monsieur, you shall no point out mouth,
No, nor out-face the Frensh man with your great Bull-beef, and Mustard English looks.
Er.
Nay, gentle Val. forbear.
Val.
I'le stop.
This mouth that knowingly sayes he dares except
Against a tittle of his face or person
But as he is an ignorant stranger, and
I must respect the company. I forbear.
La.
However sir, I can but thank your love in't.
Er.
Now it works in her.
Val.
Pardon my plainnesse, Madam.
I never was so ta'ne with Masculine beauty.
And till I winne a woman that is like him,
Or has been like him, I can but languish.
La.
They told me I was like him, when I was younger.
[Aside.
And let me tell you y' are a comely Gentleman.
And be you but as honest as y' are handsom, you deserve well.
Val.
Umh, 'tis a hard matter to bring those ends together.
Neh.
Mother f'sooth. Here's a man now for you to
make my father!
La.
Were I free from the old Knight, I could look
well upon him.
Ra.
Come servant, come away.
Val.
By no meanes, Mystresse, I do but sooth her up
to jeare her for you.
She'll brag she has out-look't you. If you start.
Nay, and she go to that, I hope I can,
Look as ill favouredly as her selfe, or a better
Woman then she, and stay in spight of her, hah.
Val.
'Tis well done, Mystris, Madam shall I tell
you.
She sayes you are no match for me.
La.
Ha, ha, ha.
Val.
And knowing I aim at none but some great widow.
Tells me she knows her husband's but short-liv'd.
I fear she means to break his heart.
La.
Say you so?
Val.
No words, good Madam.
Whim.
Yet more whispering.
Pray Madam let us go. Neece come away,
For I fear Madam, as you wisely doubted,
This is no companie for us.
La.
Sir, I hope.
I am not yet so tied, but I may safelie
Use my own freedom, I'le go when I please.
Whim.
O Grissel, Grissel, when would'st thou have
said so?
Bli.
Loves power, I hope, hath wonne on destinie,
T' appoint this day for my delivery.
Er.
Nay, good Sir Swithin,—Ladies—we
have yet
Enter Camelion.
Stri.
Yes Gallants, now w' are readie, we but stayed
for this fourth man here.
Val.
O Camelion.
Where is your wife? I hope your jealousie.
Cam.
Pish Honi soit. I hate it.
No, she has been preparing of a banquet,
Which now is ready for you, worthy Mr. Lightfoot,
And your faire company; jealousie I defie
The base horne Ague, Mr. Askal I.
La.
What does he call you? Rascal?
Val.
Askal Madam.
My name is Askal. But the R in Master
Runs into't so, that sometimes it sounds doubtful.
I must be Knighted, Euphoniæ gratia.
Sir Valentine Askal will come fairly off.
Cam.
Now note me Mr. Askal, and tell me if ever
jealous man came so lightly off.
Enter Hannah.
Daunce.
Han.
Sir, your collation stayes.
Stri.
'Tis well, Gallants and Ladies
Wilt please you enter.
Omn.
Agreed, agreed, of all sides.
Ex. Omn.
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