 | The Hollander |  |
Actus secundus.
Scena prima.
Sconce, Vrinall; with a boxe of weapon salve.Scon.
But are you certaine Vrinall this oyntment is Orthodoxall;
may I without errour in my faith believe this
same the weapon salve Authenticall?
Vrin.
Yes, and infallibly the creame of weapon salves, the
simples which doe concurre to th'composition of it, speake it
most sublime stuffe; tis the rich Antidote that scorns the steele,
and bids the Iron be in peace with men, or rust: Aurelius Bombastus,
Paracelsus, was the first inventer of this admirable Unguent.
Scon.
He was my Countryman, and held an Errant Conjurer.
Vrin.
The Devill he was as soone: an excellent Naturallist, &
that was all upon my knowledge, Mr. Sconce; and tis thought
my Mr. comes very neare him in the secrets concerning bodies
Physicall, as Herbes, Roots, Plants vegetable and radicall, out
of whose quintessence, mixt with some hidden causes, he does extract
this famous weapon salve, of which you now are Mr.
Scon.
There's a Welch Doctor ith' City reported skilfull in
compounding it.
He? a meere Digon a whee; his salve, why it is Case-baby
to my Masters: I dare be sworne tis nothing but Methegling
boyld to jelly, the blades of Leeks, mixt with a Welch
Goats blood; then stampt, and straind through a peece of British
Freese, or one of the old laps of Merlins Jerkin.
Scon.
Probable Vrinall. The That Welch Doctor I doe not like: I
did attempt him for the weapon salve, and like a Turke hee answer'd
me, that Hollanders were Jewes.
Vrin.
They are a rebellious nation that's certaine.
Scon.
And that the salve was onely made for Christians; there
is a City Captaine too; I know not how you stile him.
Vrin.
Not Iohn a Stiles, the Knight of the post is it?
Scon.
No, no, a very honest gentleman; but he's, reported to
have atchiev'd the salve in Lapland among the witches, and to
be very liberall in imparting it to his friends, an Aldermans
daughter Vrinall may, and they say a witty gentlewoman.
Vrin.
Is't possible Mr. Sconce? they have few sonnes of that
condition.
Scon.
Had a desperate hole made in her by a gentleman,
with his But-shaft, as in her Country garden he was shooting at
Penny pricke; was, when none else could doe it, cur'd by this
Captaine.
Vrin.
By this light a trifle, a meere trifle, the very scraping of
our Galley-pots performes more monstrous wonders: there
was a Puritane Mr. Sconce, who, cause he saw a Surplisse in the
Church, would needs hang himselfe in the Bell-ropes.
Scon.
Why did not the Sexton ring him by the eares for it?
Urin.
Him my Mr. seeing, did for experience sake anoynt the
noose wherein his necke had bin, and it recovered him.
Scon.
Is't possible he should so easily escape a hanging! but
on good Urinall.
Vrin.
Nay sir Ile tell you a greater miracle: You heard of the
great training last Summer master Sconce?
Scon.
O when the whole City went in Armes to take in Islington;
marry I heard the Ale-wives curse the report of their
Muskets, it made their Pies and Custards quake ith' Oven, and
so come out dow-back't, which almost broke the poore Harlots.
Vrin.
I then Mr. Sconce there was at least three-score blown
sav'd.
Scon.
Rarer, and rarer yet: But how good Vrinall?
Vrin.
He dress'd the smoake of the powder as it flew up Sir,
and it heald them perfectly.
Scon.
O that any body would blow me up, to see how I
could cure my selfe. Still on good Vrinall.
Urin.
Nay there are thousands of this kinde: but now I
thinke on it since, it did commit a villanous mischiefe.
Scon.
Could it ever doe a mischiefe Vrinall?
Vrin.
Yes, yes, it has done a most notorious one, sufficient to
exauctorate its power, and almost annihilate the vertue of it.
Scon.
What was't good Vrinall?
Vrin.
I could e'ne weepe to tell you Sir: tis suppos'd twill never
recover the favour of gentlemen and City wits, they are
quite out of conceite with it.
Scon.
But why should they be so Vrinall?
Urin,
I scarce dare answer Sir, for feare you hate it likewise,
Twas such another mischiefe.
Scon.
Prethee what? nay on my gentility Vrinall.
Vrin.
Why sir, it cur'd two Serjeants, and their yeomen.
Scon.
How? two Serjeants.
Vrin.
Who otherwise had drunke Mace-Ale with the Devill.
Scon.
A Capitall crime that same, to cure two Serjeants.
Enter Doctor, his wife: Mixum, his wife.
Doct.
Tom Mixum I thanke thee for the man
Thou sentst me; tis a most serviceable knave;
I've set him to pull yon bird of Paradice, yon parcell Dutch:
thou sentst him hither too.
Mix.
J knew he was for your purpose, Mr. Doctor: this is
the gentleman I told you had one thousand pound per annum, and
would be a match for Mr. Doctors daughter.
Scon.
There was a touch for him indeed Vrinall.
Doct.
It will, indeed, now I consider on't, I had rather shee
should marry a wealthy gull, than a witty Beggar: Wife and
Mr. Mixum, will you discourse a little with the gentleman,
use him; Mr. Sconce I should be glad to wait on you, did not urgent
affaires withdraw me.
Scon.
Mr. Doctor I saw you not before: I am sorry sir, you
will be gone so soone, I should have chang'd some sillables
with you.
Doct.
Another time sweet Mr. Sconce.
Tom Mixum, Vrinall, Exeunt with Doctor.
Mrs. Mix.
A very good fortune Mrs Artlesse for your daughter,
and not to be neglected: shall I speak to him, or will you
forsooth?
Mrs. Art.
Perhaps hee'l speake to us: see kind gentleman.
Scon.
Lady, my manners does command mee leave you: you
would perchance be private by your selves, or peradventure Vrinall
were more behoofefull for your company: then I adiew
Vfroes.
Mrs. Mix.
Pray stay sir, we have some businesse with you,
(let me alone to trye him Mrs. Artlesse) besides wee had rather
be private with a gentleman, then by our selves: they say you
Dutch-men are the kindest men, and love a woman heartily, you
kisse so finely too.
Scon.
You shall feel that presently
[kisses
her]
there was a touch for you: Nay Mrs. Artlesse you shall not
blame my manners, I have a lip, a piece for you
[kisses her]
and
there was a touch for you Lady.
Mrs. Mix.
So please you sir, I have another touch for you too,
[kisses him]
Must trie his disposition Mrs. Artlesse.
Scon.
A very strong touch that same; she will beleaguer me I
thinke, and her Cannon shot will bee kisses, they almost
blow mee over. Surely the Minikin is enamoured on me.
Mrr. Art.
Motion it to him Mrs. Mixum.
Mrs. Mix.
Pray give me leave to feele his minde first, Mistris
Artlesse: Tis pitty sir, you are so long unmarried; you are an
exceeding handsome Gentleman.
Scon.
Yes, yes, I know that well enough, I might serve
for a gentleman Usher, were my legges small enough: there
are Ladies would consume halfe the revenews of their Lords,
on such a man of Chine and pith as I am.
Fie master Sconce, thinke not of Ladies sir, they
are so imperious, a man must serve them as they doe command,
at every turne and toy comes in their head; they'l puffe and fret
else, like their taffata peticoats with often brushing up; I will
protest to you, you had better set your minde upon some honest
country Gentlewoman, or Citizens daughter, Master Doctor has
a hansome girle (though I say it before her mothers face) only
she wants the audacity, which a man would put into her; would
you were married to her: Sir, she may doe worse, I dare assure
you.
Mist. Art.
Yes indeed may you master Sconce, have you not
seene her yet? tis a pretty puling baggage, so it is, marry ere I
would make her a Lady, shee should be a new Exchange wench,
your Citizens wives they are the goodest creatures, live the finest
lives.
Mist. Mix.
Very right, mistris Artlesse, good soules, did you
but know sir, what tender hearts they have, how kind they will
be to a gentleman that comes to deale for their commodities,
they will use him and it were their owne husbands.
Scon.
Ile lay my life this musk-melon has a minde to use mee
so: I care not much to give her a touch, or so, she's of the right
sise, but Mistris Artlesse should I have your good will, if I could
love your daughter.
Mist. Art.
Certainely sir, were you of English blood, I should
like you better.
Mist. Mix.
Fie Mistris Artlesse, when I was a maid, I had a
desire to be a kinne to all nations: I have tried some English
men, and they are like my husband, meere meacocks verily:
and cannot lawfully beget a childe once in seaven yeares.
Scon.
A touch, by this light, that's the reason there are so many
bastards in the city.
Mi. Mix.
Your Spaniard as a neighbour of mine, told me who
had liv'd among, is too hasty, he will not give a woman time to
say her prayers after she is bed: your French is with a woman
as with an enemy, soone beaten off, but mistris Artlesse, if you
will marry your daughter to the most compleat man, let him be
Dutch: they are the rarest men at multiplication, they will doe
it so readily.
They be indeed very good Arithmeticians.
Enter Lady Yellow, Mistris knoworth.
Mist. Art.
Here comes the Ladies: Mistris Mixum we'l depart,
they must not know our conference.
Mist. Mix.
Adiew kinde master Sconce.
Mrs. Mixum.
Scon.
Adiew min vroen, I have a pestilent mind to this talking
harlotry, I will to her, but if I should obtain the Neapolitan beneach,
a creeke ith' backe, or so, from her, 'twould be but a scurvy
touch, that for me, I should be forc'd to swim ith tub for it, or
be hang'd by the armes, and smoak'd like a bloat herring, I had
forgot my pretious salve, should I be serv'd so, 'twere but dressing
the weapon that hurt mee (which I can have at any time)
and be sound agen, ha other donsella's: Madams, they are creatures
of Plush, and Sattin, Ile accost them.
Know.
This is the gentleman I told you of, I wonder what
his quality may be, our Landlord the Doctor is a much fam'd
man, and surely very honest.
Scon.
It shall be so, my English is not compleate enough
To hold discourse with Ladies of regard, my naturall
Dutch too is a Clownish speech, and only fit to court
A leagurer in: no your French shall doe it, and thanke
My memory, I am perfect in it, tis your most
Accomplish'd language, there's scarce a gallant but does woe
His mistris in the moode, but if they should
Not understand me: well I will experce
Me it.
Sconce cringes to the Ladies.
Lady.
He meanes to speake surely in cringes.
Scon.
Madame tres puissant en le command. de touts ceurs de cest
monde, ie que sui semond & invite en tant de lieux que ie ne scay
au aller pourabrir mon sayn: a un bewtie digne de mon acceptance.
Lady.
Heyday, what's this, how should he know
Who can speake French.
Know.
He supposes it, prithee answer him sister.
Scon.
Suivant vostre treschier virtue, Ie sui si liberal
Que ic abadonne renie & renounce a tout mis biens
De mon vid mon Engin mon alayne mon sang & mon
Ceur mon affection tout a vostre plaiseur.
Lady.
A proche's ie ne vou's morderay pas.
Scon.
Si ie ne vous fay tratement t'el que
A vous appartient, ie espere que vostre
Noblez te contera de mon bon intention.
Enter Sir Martine, Popingay, and Vrinall.
Vrin.
There is the Lady you enquire for.
Sir Mart.
Thanke thee my friend, there's for
Thy paines, depart.
Exit Vrinall.
Nephew stand cleare, observe.
Scon.
Sil y'a chose en mon petit povoir en quoy ic vous puisse
Servir & aider commandes moy librement.
Lady.
Vous Este fort & liberal de suparoll monsieur.
Sir Mar.
At it so close, so now he wrings her hand,
And she smiles on him: and her sister laughs
At the lascivious posture, that I could
Command a flash of lightning, or usurpe
A minute the prerogative of death
That I might force a ruine on them, suddaine
As water falls from mountaines, yet so wretched,
They might despaire and damne themselves, what say they?
Pop.
They speake French, I understand them not.
Scon. kisses the Lady.
Mart.
O that's the ages bawd to lustfull contracts,
Hell seise them, may their lips, like twins
In mischiefe grow together, that their foule breath
May have no vent, least like some poisonous fogge,
It doe infect the aire.
Kisses her hand.
Scon.
Per dona mi Madam apre's le's leures le maine.
Sir Mart.
Againe, why strait,
If I stand still, they'l to the very act,
I shall behold my selfe transform'd to beast,
And like an innocent lambe, when the keene knife's
Prepar'd to flit his wesand never bleat
But in calme silence perish; villaine divell
Hadst thou as many lives as thou hast sins,
Of fire or whirlewinds.
Runs at Sconce, hurts him in the arme, Sconce disarmes him.
Lady.
Heavens blesse yee
Innocent gentleman: sister my husband.
Know.
I feare he has mischiev'd him.
Scon.
You thinke you have hurt me wonderfully I warrant.
Pop.
Good sir be more your selfe.
Laughs.
Scon.
Give me thy hand, tis but a touch ith arme man, thou art
a valiant fellow, I warrant thee a right twibiller, run a tilt at
a man before his weapon is drawne, your Lady would not have
don't Ime sure, but tis no matter, thou hast done me a curtesie,
or otherwise I should not take't so patiently, (I shall by this
meanes experience my precious weapon salve) hold, thou wilt
sight no more, there's a twibill for thee, thy sword Ile keepe till
wee next meet, Ladies be so los doights de vostre blanch mains, adiew
comrade remember I am beholding to thee.
Pop.
He's gone, but has left his hanger behinde him.
Lady.
Sister prithee speak to him, he has put me in such a fright,
I cannot.
Pop.
Sir be not so extreamely passionate,
Discourse your grievance mildely, heare her answer,
Then censure justly of her.
Know.
Brother I adamire
A person of your breeding should transgresse,
Civility so highly, to attempt
Upon a gentleman, who to my knowledge
Injur'd you no way.
Sir Mart.
He is your champion, and you his Ladies.
Know.
How sir?
Sir Mart.
His prostitutes I might have said O creature,
Who art so bad, the present age will question
The truth of history, which do's but mention
A vertuous woman; with what impudence
Canst thou behold me, and a shivering cold,
Strong as the hand of winter, casts on brookes,
Not freese thy spirits up, congeale thy blood,
To an ere'lasting lethargy. The starres.
To various seats yet constantly revisit
The place they mov'd from: the Phænix whose sweetnesse
Becomes her sepulcher, ascends agen
Vested in younger feathers from her pile
Of spicy ashes, but mans honor lost
Is irrecoverable the force of fate cannot revive it.
Lady.
Sir tis past my thoughts,
What should incense you to this jealous rage
'Gainst me your loyall wife, when no one blemish
Lyes on my soule that can give testimony
Unto my conscience that I have not ever
Truely and chastely lov'd you.
Sir Mart.
Yes just so the greene
Willow and shady Poplar love the brooke,
Upon whose bankes they're planted, yet infect
By frequent dropping of their witherd boughes,
Its wholesome waters; that thou shouldst be faire
And on the white leaves of thy face beare writ
The character of foulenesse, swallow up
In thy abysse of sin, thy native purenesse,
As the high seas that doe with flattering curles
Intice the spotlesse streames to mixe their waves
With the insatiate billowes, that intombe the innocent rivers.
Lady.
O me unfortunate woman.
Pop.
Good uncle speake more kindly to her, alasse she weepes.
Sir Mar.
I see it nephew,
So violent raine weepes ore the purple heads
Of smiling Violets, till its brakish drops
Insinuate among the tender leaves,
And with its waight oppresse them: these are teares,
Such as distill from henbane full of poison,
And craft as she they come from: tell me woman,
Who hast not shame enough left in thy cheekes
To cause a blush, darst thou usurpe the name
Of good or vertuous, when these eares can witnesse
Thou didst sollicit yesterday this youth,
To sate the ravenous heate of thy desire,
Could borrow to adorne its painted fowlenesse.
Lady.
Was it you indeed? I'm glad I know't deare sir,
Had I the chastest temper, that fraile flesh
Could ever boast of, your strange usage of me,
Would undermine it: to forsake my bed,
Before my blood scarce relish'd the delights
Attending on young nuptialls, so that I
Expect no anger from you if I seeke
That from the charity of other men,
Which your neglect (though you in duty owe it)
Will not allow me.
Know.
Well said sister.
Sir. Mar.
Life sheel tell me straight
She will retaine before my face some slave,
Some strong back'd monster to performe her hot
Desires with able activenesse, the slow
Motion of Snayles that carry on their heads
Their shelly habitations to the pace
Of my dull rage, is swift as erring flames,
Which had it not been leaden wing'd; as sleepe,
Ere this had seis'd the monster.
Lady.
Ha, ha, ha, the man is sure distracted, ha, ha, ha,
Pop.
Heyday, here's laughing and crying both with a winde,
As boyes doe, a juglar's but an asse to a right woman.
Lady.
Good sir will you walke? the gentleman hee's in a terrible
sweat, should he stand still, he may chance catch an Ague.
Know.
A Cardus posset were very soveraigne for him, I perceive
his fit is comming.
Lady.
How doe you husband, sweet heart, what not speake? I
thought your jealousie ere this had driven you into France, but
now I see you feare to bee sea-sicke, you have found mee out it
seemes; I hope ere long you will provide Gossips for the child
I goe with, marke you ducke.
Sir Mar.
If I stay, my rage
Will hurry me to mischiefe, better leave her
To certaine ruine, then betray my selfe
To danger of it, when strong tides meete tides
Resigne to th'wearing of the troubled waves
A frothier livery, then when Oceans
Encounter with full liberty, the windes
Imprisond in the Cavernes of the earth,
Breake out in hideous earthquakes, passions so
Encrease by opposition of all scornes,
Tis most opprobrious to be arm'd with hornes.
Ex. Sir. Mar.
Lady.
He leaves you here sir as his spie, do's he not?
Pray wait upon your master, I suppose he is so.
Pop.
Pardon me Madam, he is my uncle.
Lady.
Which of his sisters sonnes are you?
Pop.
The Lady Popingaies.
Lady.
My cosen Harry Popingay; I cry your mercy sir: your
good mother knowes, and grieves Ime sure, to see her brother
wrong me as he does: should I tell her how you dealt with mee
too, she would chide you soundly.
Pop.
Your goodnesse Madam will forgive it on my submission
and sorrow for it.
Know.
Weel beg it for you sir.
Lady.
Sister he has it, were it possible
To worke a reclamation on this man,
From his fond jealousie, I would not wish
A change to be an Empresse.
Enter Dalinea.
Dal.
Madam, my mother does entreat your Ladyships company
in your chamber, Mrs. Mixum has brought the conserves
my father did appoint her.
Pop.
Tis the same face, or else some Angel does
Assume this shape to mocke mortality,
With the true forme of beauty.
Lady.
Nephew pray see us oftner, and use all meanes to gaine
your distracted uncle from his frensie, sister shall's walke; Dalinea
be it your care to see my Nephew forth.
Exe. Lady and Knoworth.
Dal.
I shall Madam.
Pop.
Life, she speakes too
A tempting language, such was our first mothers voyce,
While she was innocent, most perfect woman.
Dal.
Would you have ought with me sir?
Pop.
Yes bright vertue.
That title relishes flattery for ought you know: I may be
vicious.
Pop.
Goodnesse deludes it selfe then,
I cannot flatter Lady, you mistake me:
What I shall speake, comes from an innocence
Yet undefild by falshood.
Dal.
Speake quickely, if it concerne me, otherwise I must
Entreat a licence to depart.
Pop.
You cannot affoord example of such cruelty
To following Lovers, to deprive my sight so soone
Of yours, for whose least view, the darke Cimmerian, blinded
With continuall sleepe, would rowse his heavy eyelids.
Dal.
Nay, and you begin to run a complement out of breath,
You'l drive me hence indeed: (believe me sir) had I not lik'd
You well, my modesty would scarce have suffered the least
Enterchange of words (but since it has done) pray be briefe,
What tends your conference to?
Pop.
I love you Lady
With the religious fancy, that one Saint
Affects another; such a heate as mine
Was that, with which the first who ere knew love,
Had their soules warm'd (essentiall) not as now
The common garbe is to adore a lip,
Or any other lineament, but for
The abstract of perfection, which do's glory
In being deriv'd from one so good as you are,
Am I become your captive.
Dal.
This to me, sound as the empty whistling of the ayre
Does in some hollow vault, unspotted truth
Informes my ignorance, there's not a person
In all the multitude of men loves chastly.
Pop.
Be so charitable
As to believe I can, who never yet
Knew flame was vicious, my desires retaine
Their maiden purity, no other object
Did ere attract my soules unblinded eyes, but your faire selfe.
Dal.
Then I believe you sir,
No man will be so worthlesse to dissemble
Intends the same reality that I doe:
Yet tis an errour, which perswasion scarce
Shall free me from: that every woman ought
To love a man with that indifferent heate
She fancies other women, without sence
Of difference twixt the Sexes.
Pop.
Soule of sweetnesse,
How equally an Angels intellect
Informes her sacred Reason: to love chastly,
Could not have bin defin'd with juster strictnesse,
Had we produc'd the constancy of Swans,
Or never changing Turtles, as our patternes,
(T'had but describ'd chaste love) the Palme that prospers,
(Not but by's fellow) and the Vine that weaves
Of her owne leaves a thinne, yet glorious mantle
For her naked lover. Doe but embleme what
Her truth has utt'red: but resolve me faire one,
Could you affect so?
Dalin.
If that were all
Requisite to love, I could; but there's obedience
A Nuptiall wreath brings with it, which I feare
My frailty would scarce keepe, and to become
Perfidious to a vow were such a sinne
As I should quake to thinke of.
Pop.
You alledge
Vaine difficulties: I perceive your looks
Would be propitious to me, did your will,
Asham'd perhaps to suffer suddaine conquest,
Not play the Tyrant with them, and call backe
The crimson Nectar from your well-form'd Cheeke
To guard your heart from yielding: come, let's kisse,
The modest heate proceeding from my lips
Will thaw your soule to softnesse.
Dal.
Away, we may not;
If true—chaste love had rested in discourse,
I could have beene its votary, but a thought
Of any thing beyond it, is to me
Ex. Dal.
Pop.
Sure some white Cherubim,
Comming to teach the irreligious earth
The ancient truth; in its swift flight to heaven,
Pronounc'd that happy farewell to the soules
Its musicke had converted. I've not lost
In my first tryall, like some ventrous man,
Who findes the Indies, though he get small wealth,
Yet he sets forth agen, in hopes at last
To ladle his winged vessell: Ile returne,
That fire's not out, which does in Ashes burne.
Exit.
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