 | Wit in A Constable |  |
Actus Quartus
Scena prima.
Grace, Clare, Busie, Luce.Busie.
They are both sparkes, that's certaine, if ere
I take them in my watch, Ile make them stoope
Under my staffe of office, Mistris Clare,
Though I'me a Citizen, and by my charter,
Am not allowed much wit, as being free
Oth Linnen-drapers, and a man in office,
Doe not revenge you on these sawcy mad caps,
May taking up of Holland at deare rates,
Be quite abjur'd by courtiers: and I canvas'd
Out of authority, how's that now?
Clare.
Master Busie,
You seeme of sage discretion: and to say
Truth, I conceive you have the stocke of wit
Belonging to the city in your custody,
You are the chamber of London, where that treasure
Is hoarded up, and I doe hope you can
Be true and secret.
Busie.
How's that Lady?
I were unworthy else to thrive by linnen,
Could I not keepe smocke secrets for your uncle,
Your father mistris Grace, I care not for him,
Although he be right worshipful and an Alderman,
As I may say to you he has no more
Wit then the rest oth' bench: what lies in's thumbe-ring,
Yet I doe love you deerely for the kindnesse
Shown to my girle here, and because you have
Some flashes in your braines: and since you have
Opend the case to me, ere we proceed
To sentence, tell me seriously doe not you two
Love Valentine, and Freewit?
Grace.
For my owne part,
And I dare say as much too for my cosen.
Their memories are as distant from our hearts,
As civill honesty from theirs.
Clare.
And though
I well could like that Freewit for a husband,
Yet in mere spight because he shal not have me,
Ile wed the next mans offered me.
Busie.
How's that?
I would my wife were dead; two comely lasses,
Such as sometimes I light on in my watch,
would make fit wives for such rude sparks, and t'shal
Goe hard but I will for your sakes sweete beauties,
If you'l give way to it.
Cla.
And crowne thee for
The king of witty Constables use our names,
Or any thing to draw them forward, that
Wee may in triumph laugh at their disgrace,
And weel procure a pattent, to continue
Thy office to thee, during life: and after
To hire some ingenious poet that shall keepe
Thy fame alive in a brave Epitaph
Grav'd on thy marble.
Enter Covet, Sir Geffrey Holdfast, Sir Timothy, young Holdfast.
Geff.
What varlet should that be trow?
Cov.
Truth I know not,
Nor can conjecture, yet I did believe
Him to be truely yours, because attird
Ith' habit and the phrase of a right Scholler,
And for your sonne, pardon me master Holdfast,
I tooke you for some lewd audacious varlet,
That had usurpt that title.
Hold.
I imagine
It was some bastard of my fathers, gotten
In youth upon his Taylors wife or Landresse,
He has good store of them, but master Alderman
You now conceive Ime son and heire apparent
Unto the Holdfasts, whosoever got me,
That's not much matter.
Bus.
How's that, anon before I set my watch,
Ile visit you agen: meanetime, pray give my
Daughter Luce leave to come home, her sister
Poore wretched, is troubled with a paine ith'
Bottome oth' body, pricks even to her very heart,
And I would have Luce goe toth' Pothecaries,
And get some Besar stone, they say 'twill cure her.
Farewell good Ladies, you'l be sure to come Luce.
Ex. Busie.
Are these the maidens, I promise you master
Alderman the'r virgins of good feature, and I shall
Be well apaid if my sonne match to either,
Which lik'st thou best boy?
Hold.
Both of them good father,
Be not so troublesome, but let me take
A view of them: Sir Timothy which doe you
Like best of these two Ladies?
Tim.
Which doe you
Like best good Mr. Holdfast.
Hold.
Yours shall be
The choyce noble Sir Timothy.
Tim.
Yours indeed,
Magnanimous Mr. Holdfast.
Hold.
On my gentility yours.
Tim.
Yours on my knighthood.
Cov.
Good sir Timothy,
No striving, they are free for you, and for
The staine those idle gallants put upon them,
Twas on my credit gentlemen to keepe
All other suitors off, in hope by that meanes
To obtaine them for themselves.
Tim.
Tis very likely
That Valentine's a wagge.
Cov.
Daughter and neice,
This hopefull gentleman, and this good knight are
By my care provided for your husbands, pray use
Them as befits their worth, and take it
As a fatherly admonition; either resolve
To marry these or none.
Cla.
Tis a hard choyce sir,
Yet rather then our maiden-heads shall starve,
Weel feed on this course fare, young wenches uncle,
Are like young hungry Hawkes: they'l stoope at
Jack-daws, when they can meet with no better prey,
Draw neerer thou doughty knight, and thou good
Squire oth' damsells, Uncle these youthes are bashfull in the
Presence of you two their grave Elders: your grim beards,
Their precise love to silence.
Tim.
Shees ith' right,
Ime such a fearefull foole I cannot speake,
If any body looke on me.
Geff.
Let's withdraw,
Now plye thy businesse boy.
Clare.
So now the game
Exe. Sir Geffery and Covet.
Will begin presently: I pray you tell me
Which of you is the valiant Rosicleer,
Dares breake his Launce on me.
Tim.
Marry that would I
If I durst be so bold, mine is a stiffe one,
And will pricke sorely.
Clare.
A fooles bable ist not?
But come in briefe to th'purpose: is it you
Sir knight of the ill favored face,
That would have me for your Dulcina?
Tim.
Very right,
You know my minde as well it seemes as if
You'r in my belly.
Grace.
So then you are sped:
This gentleman's my comely spouse that must be,
Twere fitting Cosen Clare ert be a bargaine,
They know on what conditions they doe cast
Themselves away upon us.
Hold.
Twas discreetly
Thought on, I would doe nothing rashly.
Clare.
Marke then
You men that will transforme your selves to
Monsters, wretches that will become so miserable,
You'l hang your selves: & think it a faire rid dance,
Marke what youl come to, if you be so mad,
So desperate mad to wed us, you must first,
Resolve like patient gulls to have your noses
Twingd if ours chance to itch: your eares like asses
When they grow lasie cropt, least they oreheare
Our chamber secrets, for our recreation,
Weel beat you daily: while you like tame Spanells,
Shall fawne and licke our shooe-strings.
Grace.
Nor expect,
To get a good word from us in a twelve month,
Hourely revilings and perpetuall noyses
Shall be as favours taken that we would
Vouchsafe to spend in such regardlesse trifles,
Wee'l be as proud as ere our mothers were,
When she was Lady Majoresse, and you humble,
As her trim hench-boyes: whatsoever servants
You kept before, although they were your grandsires,
You shall turne off and limmit your attendants,
As tis the city fashion to a woman
Butler, that shall not dare without our license,
To let you have a penny pot of sacke
To give a frugall entertainment, to
Your visiting friends.
Clare.
If you have a brother,
Kinseman, or friend, that does in pitty grieve at
The tyranny you live in, him it shall be felony
To converse with, we in tissue and plush will
Brave it while you walke in sustain, weel
When we please have our faire coach and horses
To carry us up to London to aske counsell of
Our mothers and our gossips how to abuse you.
You shall be still obedient, we commanding,
And if a Lord or courtly gentleman,
Whom we stile servant, out of love sometimes
Gives us a visit, you shall not repine:
If we forsake your bed to goe to his.
Gra.
And if you chance, as fooles will oft be
Peeping to spye us coupling, with respective silence,
You shall depart, not daring to bedew
Your eyes with tears for grief that you are cuckolds,
Nor to exalt your honors above your neighbours,
But big with joy triumph that you have wives
That are in so much credit, as to have
Heires to your large revenewes.
Tim.
Very right,
Tis not the fashion now adayes for knights
To get their owne sons, tis sufficient for us
If we can leave them lands, no matter who
Was their true fathers.
Cla.
Say sir Timothy
If upon these conditions you can like
The match is perfect: but faith take my counsell,
Make not your selves meere raskalls: the reproach
To boyes and schollers, subjects fit for ballads,
Not worthy MPs name to them, good Sir Timothy
Have pitty on your selfe, and marry rather
In your owne tribe, some damsell that can churne,
Make Cheese and Apple pies with Currants in them,
And Mr. Holdfast twere farre better for you to
Match with some grave doctors impe at Cambridge
Or else as twas your use when you'r a student,
Lye with your bed maker.
Tim.
Very right,
Yet I doe know all this is but in jest,
To make us love you better.
Hold.
True sir Timothy;
Speake as it were to let us understand
By an Irony as we the learned call it,
How well they meane to use us: therefore in
My judgement it were requisit with all speed,
While there in this good humour
To strike the match up.
Tim.
Very right, we are
No Jackdawes to be fright with these Scar-crowes,
Mistris your hand, and if you'l have me so,
If not so likewise: but you will repent it,
You'l scarcely meet two that will offer fairer
Then we have done.
Cla.
But doe you meane performance,
Truely of these conditions.
As sincerely
As ere we meane to eate.
Tim.
Or drinke good Ale
At mother Huffs a mornings.
Grace.
You'll confesse this
Before the Priest and witnesses.
Hold.
Before
The Congregation, or at a Commencement
Before the University.
Clar.
That you'll be
Honest contented Cuckolds, beare your heads
As peaceably, and with as much obedience,
As the tam'st beast ith' City.
Tim.
On my Knight-hood.
Hold.
On my gentility.
Clar.
Why then strike hands on't;
Since you will needs undoe your selves, 'twere folly
To indeavour to redeeme you: but this night
We will be marry'd, and in private,
Not yours nor our friends being acquainted with it.
Weele meet you any where, procure the license,
And weele be ready; so farewell: to night,
Or not at all lets heare from you.
Exeunt Clara, Grace.
Hold.
And feele us too ere morning, 'tshal goe hard else.
Sir Timothy, was not this wisely carryed:
To let them have their sayings? but we will not
Be such starke fooles to doe what we have promis'd;
When they're ours once, we may rule them easily
At our owne pleasures.
Tim.
Very right; and use them
At our owne pleasures: But see here's your Mr.
And Mr. Constable your Landlord.
Enter Grimes, Busie.
Hold.
Landlord, welcome
On my Gentility, to my house that must be.
Thou thoughtst, because I did weare Lokram shirts
Ide no wit: but harke thee, I have got
Have strucke the stroake old boy: to night's the night,
Thou shalt know more of it ere twelve of Clocke,
And then believe me: Grimes goe you to th'office;
There's mony, fetch a Licence.
Tim.
There's more money,
Bring me a Licence too; sure as we woo'd
Weele wed together.
Busie.
How's this? Gentlemen
I shall have gloves I hope.
Hold.
And favours too,
Thy daughter Nell shall have my Bride garters,
And thy fore-man my poynts: But honest Landlord,
I know th'art excellent at a device,
This matter must be private, not my father,
Nor Mr. Alderman must be acquainted,
Till all is finished: Could thy wit but helpe us
To plot this finely: Clare and Grace will meet us,
At any place where weele appoynt.
Bus.
How's that?
Ile set you presently ith' way; my house
Shall be your randevous; soone after ten.
The houre of meeting: there Ile have prepar'd
For the two Ladyes a Sedan: that shall
Carry them thence unseene through the watch
At Ludgate, where I exercise my office,
Into white-Friers, there shall a little Levite
Meet you, and give you to the lawfull bed.
With much celerity: give me your mony, & ile take out the licence.
How's that now?
Tim.
Very right.
Bus.
Meane time my daughter Luce shall give them notice
How all's contriv'd, they'll be willing,
When they shall know the managing's committed
To my discretion; but about your businesse;
It will grow late oth' suddaine.
Hold.
Come Sir Timothy.
Ex. Hold. Tim. Grimes.
Bus.
So, so, as I would have it: if I doe not
Doe something to exalt the fame of Constables,
Ha! Valentine and Freewit with my daughter?
They must not see me.
Exit.
Enter Valentine, Free-wit, Luce.
Luce.
Tis certaine Mr. Freewit they are contracted,
And this night to be marryed: I am sorry
You should be thus supplanted, by two such
Dull witlesse ideots: but they are so bent on't,
That when I speake in your behalfes, my Mistris
Ent. Clar. Grace.
Stopt my mouth with a blow oth' lips: see here
They are themselves; if you doe any good,
It must be now or never.
Ex. Luce.
Clar., Grace.
Ha, ha, ha.
Free.
What doe the Monkyes laugh at?
Clar.
To behold
Two such trim gallants as your selves, like Asses,
Shaking your empty Noddles ore the Oates
You faine would eate, but must not lick your lips at.
You thought to have wonne us by your wit, where lyes it?
In your gay cloaths; perhaps so, if you can
Out-sweare the faithfull Tayler, that's unpaid yet.
Or cheat your Sempstresse. Troth make safe retreat
Into the Suburbs, there you may finde cast wenches,
Who will in pitty have you: and for dowry,
Bring you an ampler stocke of hot diseases,
Than you are already furnish'd with. We Orphans
Oth' City have more charity to our selves,
Than to wed Surgeons boxes.
Grace.
When our portions
Shall be consum'd in Pothecaries Bills,
Or giving Doctors fees; or at best use,
Serve but to purchase Sacke; or be as tribute
Paid toth' three Kings; or piously bestowed
Upon Jerusalem.
Free.
No, you'd best reserve them,
Till those you wed be beg'd for fooles; and then
You have broake our gulls with anger that you have
Resolv'd on other husbands: who would have you?
But two such ideots, fit to be the styles
To the vast pride and lust lurkes in your blood,
Derivative from the City: for our selves,
Why should you have a thought we could descend
So much from gentries honour, to mixe with you?
Tis true, you appeare handsome, but you paint
Worse then a Bawd, or waiting-woman, in love
With the spruce Chaplaine.
Val.
For your haire let's see
Your eye-browes badge: oh tis not your owne;
Be modest and confesse it: tis a Peruke,
I saw it at the French-mans in the Strand,
The other day: and though you hold your head up,
It is suppos'd it growes too neare your shoulders,
And you weare iron bodyes, to keep downe
And rectifie the crooked paths that are
In this same hill your body.
Free.
Nay, besides
Y'are infinitely lascivious, tis reported
Y'ave kild the reverend Alderman at least,
Ten Prentises, besides foure journy-men.
With too much labour: That you will be drunke
Our selves can testifie: and with these imperfections
This inexhausted Magazin of vices,
Could you imagine we would have you? no.
Heaven give you joy, with your well-chosen spouses:
May they be patient Cuckolds, that's all the harme
Weele wish them: the more fooles, more fit for husbands
To such hot wild cats.
Clare.
Well Mr. Free-wit,
I thought how ever we, in mirth, or madnesse,
Could have transgrest civility, that you
Would not have made such a severe construction
Of our intentions: how i've lov'd you, heavens
Can beare me righteous witnesse; but mans faith
weeps.
But when the Sunne shines.
Grace.
And that you, whom I
Even at the first view lov'd, and fixt my heart on:
Should not alone contemne me, but with these
Abuses wound my fame, torments my soule
Beyond the strength of patience, heaven forgive you.
Free.
They are our owne, deare Valentine: our owne as surely,
As if the officious Priest had put the Ring
Upon their pretty fingers; why you need not
Take words with such unkindnesse Clare yourselves
Being the occasion.
Clar.
Such discourtesies
From friends; nay, such beloved friends as you were,
Wounds deeply Mr. Freewit.
Free.
Prethee Clara
No more remonstrances of this unkindnesse,
Drye thy faire eyes, or I shall else grow childish,
And weep for company: poore heart i'me sorry
Th'art thus distemper'd; prethee sweet forgive me;
We will be friends, and instantly steale hence,
And end all difference in a happy marriage.
Clar.
Ha, ha, ha: hold the mans head, heel swowne
I feare oth' suddaine: marry you; goe boast
How you've abus'd us, and doe not forget
This part oth' story, twill much grace the action,
That you were foold agen into beliefe
That we could love you: ha, ha, ha.
Ex. Clare, Grace.
Val.
We have made ourselves fine fooles, a poxe upon them:
I knew their teares could not be serious:
They onely fell from their left eye, as wealthy
Young widowes weep for their old husbands.
Freewit
They're lost, past all recovery.
Free.
Who can helpe it;
There are more wives ith' Kingdome; yet Ime vext
That two such gulls should carry them: lets goe seeke
Sir Timothy and my Cozen Holdfast out,
And geld them, then proclaime them to be Eunuchs.
Enter Busie.
Bus.
I have o're-heard them all, and it conduces
Much to my purpose: now, or never Busie
Shew thy selfe a true sparke, that Constables
Hereafter may be thought to have some wit,
More than is in their staffe. Good day to you gallants,
I have some businesse with you.
Val.
Your name is Busie?
Bus.
The same body.
Your friend, although a Constable; there were two Ladyes
Went lately from you.
Free.
What of that?
Bus.
They told me, as I am of their councell, that they lov'd you.
And though some words of course had past between you,
As oft does among friends: you know the Proverbe put lately
In a Ballad, where I learnd it, that amantium iræ amoris redinte-
gratio est: yet that was but in jest, and in all haste,
Wished me to assure you, that if you would speedily
Take out the Licences this very night, twixt nine and ten, at my
House they would meet you, and joyne with you in Matrimony.
Free.
Is this truth?
Bus.
How's that? upon the faith sir of a man in office,
You may believe me: for a Priest, leave that
To my care gentlemen, ile have one ready
Privately in White-Friers, the house anon
I will enforme you, and what way to take
To misse pursuit, if any should endeavour
Your apprehension.
Val.
How may we deserve this kindness from you?
Bus.
When tis done, then thanke me; meane time make haste,
and get the licences.
I will pursue the rest, and if I fit not some body,
Ent. Luce.
Let me be held as other of my fellowes are, Asses in office.
Luce thou art come as aptly as I could wish: be sure at nine of
Clock to be at home, and if you can bring with you two of the
gentlewomens gownes, question not why?
Time shall report some Constables have wit.
Ex.
Explicit Actus Quartus.
| Wit in A Constable | |