 | A Woman is a Weather-cocke |  |
Actus secundus.
Scen. prima.
Enter Neuill like a Parson.Thus for my friends sake haue I taken orders,
And with my reasons and some hyre besides:
VVon the knowne Priest, that was to Celebrate
And heere's the Character of his face and beard.
By this meanes, when my friend confronts the Maide,
At the Church doore (where I appointed him
To meete him, like my selfe: for this strange shape
He altogether is vnwitting of.)
If she (as one Vice in that sex alone
Were a great Vertue) to inconstancy past,
Ioyne impudency, and sleight him to his face,
Shewing a resolution to this match.
By this attempt it will be frustrate;
And so we haue more time, though but till night,
To worke to speake with her, or vse violence,
(For both my bloud and meanes are at his seruice.)
The reason too, I do this past his knowledge,
Is that his ioy may be the more compleat;
When being resolu'd shee's married and gone,
I can resolue him otherwise: Thus I know,
Good deeds shew double, that are timely done,
And ioy that comes past expectation.
Enter Scudmore in Tawny.
Yonder he comes, dead in his melancholy:
Ile question him, and see if I can raise
His Spirit from that, it restlesse rests vpon:
He cannot know me. Ho, Good-morrow Sir.
Scud.
Good-morrow to no liuing thing but one,
And that is Neuill: Oh, the Vowes, the Vowes,
The protestations and becomming Oaths
Which she has vtter'd to me, so sweet, so many,
As if she had beene couetous, not to leaue
One word for other Louers, which I pittied.
She saide indeede I did deserue em all;
Her lips made swearings sound of piety,
So sweet and prettily they came from her:
And yet this Morne shee's married to a Lord.
Lord, Lord, how often has she kist this hand,
Lost her selfe in my eyes, plaid with my haire,
Go away prou'd, emproued by her fauors,
And yet this Morne shee's married to a Lord.
The Bels were ringing as I came along.
Neu.
Yes Sir, tis for the great Marriage twixt
Scud.
Pray hold there, I know it too well.
The Tokens and the Letters I haue still:
The dangers I haue past for her deere sake,
By day and night to satisfie her wishes;
That Letter I so lately did receiue,
And yet this Morne shee's married to a Lord:
Oh memory, thou blessing to all men,
Thou art my curse and cause of misery,
That tel'st me what I haue bin in her eyes,
and what I am: as it is impossible
To find one good in the whole word of women:
But how I loose my selfe, and the remembrance
Of my deere friend, who said he would meet me heere.
What is this Priest that walkes before the Church?
Why walke you heere so earely, Sir?
Neu.
I am appointed,
Heere to attend the comming of the Brides,
Old Sir Iohn Worldlyes Daughters.
Scud.
Are there two?
Ne.
Yes Sir, the eldest marries Count Erederick.
Scud.
Oh.
Neu.
The middlemost weares willow for his sake,
The youngest marries the rich Merchant Strange.
Scud.
He is right worthy, and my well knowne friend.
But Parson, if you marry Bellafront,
The horror of thy Conscience shall exceed
A Murtherers; Thou shalt not walke alone,
Nor eate, nor sleepe, but a sad Louers grones
and cursses, shall appeare and fright thy soule:
I tell thee Priest, they're sights, more terrible
Then Ghosts or Sprights, of which old wiues tell Tales,
Thou shalt run mad, thou shalt be damn'd indeed.
Neu.
Now God forefend, the reason Sir I pray?
She is contracted Sir, nay married
Vnto another man, though it want forme:
And such strange passages and mutuall Vowes,
T'would make your short haire start through your blacke
Cap, should you but heare it.
Neu.
Sir, Ile take no notice
Of things, I do not know the iniur'd Gentleman,
May bring em after into the Spirituall Court,
and haue a faire pull on't, a poore Gentleman,
(For so I take him by his being deceiu'd)
Gainst a great Count, and an old wealthy Knight.
Scud.
Thou Pancridge Parson; Oh, for my frend Neuil,
Some wile or other might remoue this Priest,
and giue vp breathing to crosse their intent.
Neu.
Alas my deere friend.
Scud.
Sir, do but you refuse To ioyne em.
Neu.
Vpon what acquaintance Sir?
They are great persons, and I meane to rise,
I hope in time to haue three liuings man,
and this were not the way I take it Sir.
Scud.
Why looke thee, there is Gold.
Neu.
Oh by no meanes.
Scud.
I seldome knew't refusd, yet by thy Coate;
But where it would haue bin a cause of good.
Ne.
But looke ye, you shall see I'me a Deuine,
Of Conscience quite opposite to a Lawyer,
Ile giue you Counsell Sir without a fee:
This way they are to come, if you dare doo't,
Challenge her as your owne, at the Church doore,
I will not hinder you.
Musicke playes.
Scud.
Oh harke they come,
Neuill my friend, well I must something do:
Oh, why should Musicke, which ioyes euerie part,
Strike such sharpe killing discords to my hart?
Musicke. Enter Sir Iohn Worldly, who meets the Parson, & entertaines him. Count, Bellafront. Strange, Kath. Lucida, with Willow. Pendant, Sir Inno: Ninnie, my Ladie Ninnie, Mrs. Wagtayle, S. Abram Melancholy. W. P. walk grauely
[Boy.]
The Song.
They that for Worldly wealth do wed,
That buy and sell the Marriage bed:
That come not warm'd with the true fire,
Resolu'd to keepe this Vow entire.
To soone finde discontent,
To soone shall they repent.
But Hymen these are no such Louers,
Which thy burning Torch discouers:
Though they liue then many a yeare,
Let each day as new appeare
As this first; and delights
Make of all Bridall Nights:
Io: Hymen giue Consent,
Blessed are the Marriages that nere repent.
Count.
How now, who's this?
Pen.
Young Scudmore.
Om.
Tis young Scudmore.
Scud.
Canst thou this holy Church enter a Bride,
And not a Coarse meeting these eyes of mine.
Bella.
Yes, by my troth, what are your eies to me,
But gray ones, as they are to euerie body,
The Gentleman I do a little know:
Hee's franticke sure, forward a Gods name there.
Luce.
Sister, this is not well, and will be worse.
Scud.
Oh hold thy Thunderfast.
Count.
What is the matter?
Pen.
Ile aske my Lord: What is the matter Sir.
World
Some ydle words my Lord, t'may be haue past
Twixt Scudmore, and my Daughter heeretofore,
And he has dreamt em things of consequence.
Pen.
Pish, nothing else; set forward.
Neu.
By your leaue.
Can there be such a soule in such a shape,
My Loue is subiect of such miserie,
Such strange impossibilities and mis-fortune,
That men will laugh at me, when I relate
The Storie of it, and conceiue I lye.
Why Madam that shall be, Lady in Posse, do Titles,
Honors, and Fortunes, make you so forgetfull?
Bell.
You are insolent, nay strangely sawcie Sir,
To wrong me in this publicke fashion.
World.
Sirrha, go too, there's Law.
Scud.
There is indeede,
And Conscience too, old Worldly thou hast one;
But for the other, wilde Virginia,
Blacke Affricke, or the shaggy Scithia,
Must send it ouer as a Merchandize,
Ere thou shew any heere.
Pen.
My honor'd Lord,
Say but the word, Ile force him from the doore.
Count.
I say the word, do it.
Scud.
You my Lords fine foole?
Abra.
I he Sir.
Scud.
No, nor you my Lord fooles foole.
Nin.
Ware Boy, come backe.
Lady.
Come back I say Sir Abraham.
Intrant Templum
Stra.
Tis such a forward child.
Scud.
My passion and my cause of griefe's so great,
That it hath drownd all worthy parts in me:
As drinke makes Vertues vselesse in a man,
And with too much, kils naturall heat in him,
Or else I could not stand thus coldly tame,
and see them enter; but with my drawne sword
Should haile her by the haire vnto the Altar,
and Sacrifice her heart to wronged loue.
Kate.
On my life tis so.
Stra.
Worthy friend, I am exceeding sorrie to see this,
But cannot helpe it.
Scud.
Ile follow, and vnfold all in the Church:
Had she bin loyall, all the earthly Lords
Could not haue borne her; so, what hainous sinne
Hath she committed, God should leaue her then:
I neuer dreamt of lying with my Mother,
Nor wisht my Fathers death, nor hated Brothers;
Nor did betray Trust, nor lou'd money better
Then an accepted friend; No such base thought,
Nor act vnnaturall, possest this breast:
Why am I thus rewarded women, women?
Hee's mad by Heauen, that thinkes you any thing
But sensuall Monsters, and is neuer wise
Nor good, but when he hates you, as I now,
Ile not come neere one, none of your base sex
Shall know me from this time, for all your Vertues
are like the Buzzes, growing in the fields,
So Weakely fastned te'e, by Natures hand,
That thus much winde blowes all away at once,
Ye fillers of the world with Bastardy,
Worse then Diseases you are subiect too,
Know I do hate you all, will write against you,
and fight against you; I will eate no meate
Drest by a woman old or young, nor sleepe
Vpon a bed, made by their still giuen hands;
Yet once more must I see this Fœminine Diuell,
When I will looke her dead, speake her to hell;
Ile watch my time, this day to doo't, and then
Ile be in loue with death, and readier still
Cornets.
His mortall stroke to take, then he to kill.
Exit Scud.
Loud Musicke. Enter as from the Church, Worldly, Neuill like the Parson, Count, Bellafront, Strange, Katherine, Sir Inno: Ninnie, Lady Ninnie, Sir Abra: Lucida, Wagtaile, Pendant, Poutes meetes em.
Count.
Sweet is the loue purchast with difficulty.
Bell.
Then this Crosse accident doth rellish ours.
I rather thinke ours happier my faire Kate,
Where all is smooth, and no rub checkes our course.
Ent. Captaine.
Cap.
Are ye married?
Count.
Yes.
Cap.
The Deuill dance at your wedding: but for you I
haue something else to say, let me see, heere are reasonable
store of people, know all my beloued Brethren, (I speak
it in the face of the Congregation) this woman I haue lyen
with oftener.
Om.
How?
La:, Nin.
Before God, you are a wicked fellow to speak
on't in this manner, if you haue.
Stra.
Lyen with her.
Cap.
Yes, Good-morrow, God giue ye ioy.
Exit.
World.
I am speechlesse with my anger, follow him,
If it be true, let her be prou'd a Whore;
If false, he shall abide the slander deerely.
Abra.
Follow that list, I will not meddle with him.
World.
Why speak'st thou not, to reconcile those looks
That fight sterne battels in thy husbands face.
Kate.
Thou art not so vnworthy to beleeue him,
If I did thinke thou didst, I would not open
My lips, to satisfie so base a thought,
Sprung from the slander of so base a Slaue.
Stra.
It cannot be, Ile tell you by to morrow;
I am no Foole Kate. I will finde some time
To talke with this same Captaine, Pouts de'e call him,
Ile lye we'e to night.
Kate.
Sir you shall not:
What staine my Honor hath receiu'd by this
Base Villaine, all the world takes notice of,
Marke what I Vow, and if I keepe it not,
May I be so giuen o're, to let this Rogue
Performe his slander; Thou that wert ordain'd,
And in thy Cradle markt to call me wife,
And in that Title made as my defence,
Yet suffered'st him to go away with life,
Redeeme it on his head, and his owne way,
Euen by the sword his long profession,
And bring it on thy necke out of the field:
and set it cleere amidst the tongues of men,
That all eyes may diseerne it slandered,
Or thou shalt neare enioy me as a wife:
By this bright Sun thou shalt not; Nay Ile thinke
As abiectly of thee, as any Mongrill
Bred in the Citty; Such a Cittizen
as the Playes flout still, and is made the subiect
Of all the stages. Be this true or no,
Tis thy best course to fight.
World.
Why Kate I say.
Kate.
Pray pardon me, none feeles the smart but I,
Tis thy best course to fight, if thou be'st still,
and like an honest Tradesman eat'st this wrong:
Oh, may thy Spirit and thy state so fall,
Thy first borne childe may come to the Hospitall.
Stra.
Heauen I desire thee heare her last request,
and graunt it to, if I do slacke the first;
By thy assured Innocencie I sweare,
Thou hast lost me halfe the Honor I shall win,
In speaking my intent, Come lets to dinner.
Kate.
I must not eate nor sleepe, weepe till't be done.
Bell.
Sister, this resolution is not good,
Ill thriues that Marriage that begins in blood.
Kate.
Sister, informe your selfe, I haue no Ladyship
To guild my infamie, or keepe tongues in awe:
If God loue Innocencie, I am sure he shall not
Loose in this action.
Stra.
Nor ist the others life,
Can giue het to the world my perfect wife,
But what I do conceiue. It is not blood then
Which she requires, but her good name againe,
and I will purchase it; for by heauen thou art
The excellent'st new fashion'd Maide in this,
Omnes
But heare ye.
Stra.
Good, saue your labors, for by Heauen Ile doo't
If I doo't not, I shall be pointed at,
Proclaimd the Grand Rich Cuckold of the Towne;
Nay Wittall, euen by them are knowne for both.
World.
Take your reuenge by Law.
Stean.
It will be thought
Your greatnesse, and our money carries it:
For some say some men on the backe of Law,
May ride and rule it like a patient Asse,
And with a Golden Bridle in the mouth,
Direct it vnto any thing they please.
Others report, it is a Spiders web
Made to intangle the poore helplesse Flies,
Whilst the great Spiders that did make it first,
and rule it, sit i'th midst secure and laugh,
My Law in this shall onely be my sword,
But peraduenture not this month or two.
Kate.
This month or two.
Count.
Ile be your second then.
Stran.
You proffer too much honor, my good Lord.
Pen.
And I will be your third.
Abra.
Ile not be fourth, nor fift,
For the old Prouerbe's good, which long hath bin,
Sayes safest tis sleeping in a whole skin.
Luci.
Godamercy Nab, Ile ha thee, and bee but for thy
manhood.
Inno.
Wife, my Ladie Ninnie, do ye heare your Son, he
speakes seldome, but when he speakes.
Luci.
He speakes Prouerbes Efaith.
Lady.
Oh, tis a pestlence Knight Mistris Lucida.
Luci.
I and a pocky.
Kate.
This month or two, de'e loue me, not before,
It may be I will liue so long Fames Whore.
Exit Kath.
World.
What lowring Starre rul'd my Natiuity,
Youle come to dinner?
Yes.
Count.
Good-morrow brother,
Come, let's be merry in despight of all,
And make this day (as t'should be) festiuall.
World.
This sowre thwart beginning may portend
Good, and be crown'd with a delicious end.
Exeunt all but Strange.
Stra.
So, Ile not see you till my taske be done,
So much false time I set to my intent,
Which instantly I meane to execute,
To cut off all meanes of preuention,
Which if they knew my day, they would assay:
Now for the Merchants honor, hit all right,
Kate, your yong Strange wil lie with you to night.
Exit.
Enter Wagtaile, the Page stealing after her, conceales himselfe.
Wag.
What a stir is heere made about lying with a Gentlewoman,
I haue beene lien with, a hundered and a hundred
times, and nothing has come on't, but haulke, hum,
haulke, hum, oh, oh. Thus haue I done for this month or
two, haulke, hum.
Page.
Ah Gods will, are you at it, you haue acted your
Name too much, sweete Mistris Wagtaile, this was wittily,
though somewhat knauishly followed on me.
Mrs. Wag.
Vmh, a my Conscience I am pepper'd, well
thou tumblest not for nothing, for hee Daunces as well
that got thee, and playes as well on the Violl, and yet hee
must not Father thee, I haue better men; let mee remember
them, and heere in my Melancholy, choose out one
Rich enough, to rewarde this my stale Virginitie, or
fitte enough, to marrie my little Honestie; Haulke,
hauke.
Page.
Shee has a shrowde reach, I see that, what
a casting shee keepes, marrie my Comfort is, wee shall
heare by and by, who has giuen her the Casting Bottle.
Hawk, hawke, hawke, bitter, bitter, pray God I
hurt not the Babe: Well, let mee see, Ile beginne with
Knightes, Inprimis, Sir Iohn Doot-well, and Sir William
Burnit.
Page.
A hot Knight by my Faith, Dootwell and Burnit
too.
Wag.
For old Sir Innocent Ninnie, my Maister, if I speak
my Conscience looke yee, I cannot directly accuse him,
much has hee been about, but done nothing; marrie for S.
Abraham, I will not altogether quit him, let me see, theres
foure Knights, now for Gentlemen.
Page.
And so shee'le come downe to the footmen.
Wag.
Maister Louall, Maister Liueby't, and M. Pendant,
huke, hi, vp, hi, vp.
Page.
By this light I haue heard enough, shall I holde
your belly too, faire Maide of the fashion?
Wag.
What say ye Iacke Sawce?
Page.
Oh fie, ill Mutton, you are too angry; why look
ye, I am my Lordes Page, and you are my Ladies Gentlewoman,
wee should agree better, and I pray whether are
you riding with this burthen in your Dosser.
Wag.
Why Sir, out of Towne, I hope tis not the firste
time you haue seene a child carried out of Town in a Dosser,
for feare of the Plague.
Page.
You haue answer'd mee I promise you, but who
put it in I pray.
Wag.
Not you Sir, I know by your asking.
Page.
I, alas, I know that by my Talent; for I remember
thus much Philosophie of my Schoole-Maisters, Ex nihilo
nihil fit; but come, setting this Duello of wit aside, I haue
ouer-hearde your Confession, and your casting about
for a Father, and introth in meere Charitie, came in to relieue
you. In the scrowle of Beasts, Horses, and Asses, that
haue fedde vpon this Common of yours, you named one
Pendant, Faith VVench let him bee the Father, hee is a
verie handsome Gentleman I can tell you, in my Lordes
it be him, he shall either reward thee bountifully, or marrie
thee.
Wag.
Sir you speake like an vnderstanding young Gentleman,
and I acknowledge my selfe much bounde to you
for your Counsell.
Pen.
Will, Will.
Within.
Page
My Lord has sent him to call mee, now I holde a
wager ont, if thou beest not a Foole, as most waighting
weomen are, thou'lt vse him in his kind.
Enter Pendant.
Pen.
Why Will I say, go, my Lord cals extreamely,
Page.
Did not I say so, Come this is but a trick to send
me off Sir.
Pend.
A notable little Rascall,
Prettis Mistris Wagtayle: why de'e walke so melancholy,
I sent him hence a purpose; Come shals do?
Wag.
Do, what would you do, you haue done too much
alreadie.
Pen.
What's the matter.
Wag.
I am with childe by you.
Pen.
By me? why by me? a good iest ifaith.
Wag.
Youle finde it Sir in earnest.
Pend.
Why, do you thinke I am such an Asse to beleeue
nobody has medled with you, but I.
Wag.
Do you wrong me so much to thinke otherwise.
This tis for a poore Damsell like my selfe,
To yeeld her Honour and her youth to any,
Who straite conceaues she does so vnto many,
and as I haue a soule to saue, tis true.
Pen.
Pray do not sweare, I do not vrge you too't,
Zoones, now I am vndone; you walke somewhat rounde,
Sweet-hart, has Nobody bin tampering with you els, think
ont, for by this light, I am not worth rhe estate of an Apple
wife, I do liue vpon commending my Lord, the Lorde
of hoasts knowes it; and all the world besides, for mee to
marrie thee, will vndo thee more,
See thee to English, French, to Scot, and all,
Tlll I haue brought thee to an Hospitall:
and there I leaue you, ha you not heard nor read,
Of some base slaue, that wagging his faire head,
Does whistling at one end of his shop walke,
VVhilst some Gay-man doth vomit bawdy talke
In his wiues eares at the other; such a Rogue or woorse
shall I be: For looke ye Mistris Wagtaile, I doo liue like a
Chamelion vpon the ayre, and not like a Moale vppon the
earth, Land I haue none, I pray God send me a graue when
I am dead.
Wag.
Its all one, Ile haue you for your qualities.
Pen.
For my good ones, they are altogether vnknown,
because they haue not yet bin seene, nor euer will bee, for
they haue no being, in plaine tearmes, as God helpe me, I
haue none.
Wag.
How, came you by your good cloths.
Pen.
By vndoing Taylors, and then my Lord (like a Snake)
casts a sute euerie quarter, which I slip into; therfore, thou
art worse then mad, if thou wilt cast away thy self vpon me
Wag.
Why, what mends will you make me, can you giue
me some sum of money to marrie me to some Tradesman,
as the play saies.
Pen.
No by my troth: but tell mee this, has not Sir Abraham
bin familiar with you.
Wag.
Faith, not enough to make vp a childe.
Pen.
Couldst bee content to marrie him.
Wag.
I by my troth, and thanke ye too,
Pend.
Has he but kist thee?
Wag.
Yes, and something more beside that.
Pen.
Nay, and there ha beene any iot of the thing, beside
that, Ile warrant thee, lay the childe to him, stand stifly
to it, leaue the rest to me,
Exeunt
| A Woman is a Weather-cocke | |