 | Covent Garden |  |
Act. 2.
Scœn. 1.
Enter Svsan and Warrant, by the middle Scœne.Svsan.
Now I protest Mr. Warrant, you wrong the love of a
Gentleuman, in not imparting the cause of your discontent.
Come not fees in roundly? Doe not the Delinquents
understand, I'le speake a good word for you?
Warr.
You are the onely object of my thoughts. 'Tis
your beauty hath animated my presumptuous weaknes to
expresse how much my desires are yours.
Susan.
Alas Mr. Warrant how can a poore Gentleuman
deserve it?
War.
Yes, you have power of my Lady, and she much
acquaintance at Court. A pardon might be got.
Susan.
A pardon! blesse me, for what?
Warr.
Not for murder; but for killing (yet not a Man)
fairely in the field.
Susan.
Are you earnest?
Warr.
'Tis not yet done; onely I am resolv'd to doe it,
were I but sure of my pardon.
Sus.
If not a man, what then is it?
A meere superfluous complement of state formality.
One of my Ladyes raising. A fellow that hath crosse
caper'd himselfe out of a Taylor into a gentleman Vsher.
Susan.
Who Mr. Spruce? but have you chaleng'd him?
Warr.
Yes, with all due for me and circumstance. The
weapon single Rapier; the place the Piazzi; the time
this mooneshine night presently before supper.
Susan.
And your quarrell my love. Well Mr. Warrant; I
know a Gentleuman hath interest in a Lord at Court, who
hath long beene inward with her. I'le warrant your pardon.
But my Lady expects me.
Exit.
Warr.
Dearest part of my selfe: to get my pardon, here's
Spruce, now will I affront him.
The second Scœne.
Enter Sprvce by the middle Scœne.
Spruce your being my Ladies Gentleman Vsher, her preambulator
or her anteman must not protect you in the competition
of Mris Secretaries love.
Spruce.
Warrant, thou art a scribbed shred of basenesse
to twit me with my Ladies favours, and mine owne deservings.
Mris. Secretary is my Ladies gentlewoman, and
I will love her by priviledge.
Warr.
By priviledge Spruce! Thou art a Baboone of
formality, and an ape of court-ship. When I have kill'd
thee, and got my pardon, I will have thy skin stuff't; and
with a protection shew thee at countrey Faires and Markets
for a Ginney Pigmie.
Spruce.
Warrant, thou art the Epitome of my Masters authority,
and the abridgement of his justiceship.
Warr.
Spruce, thou art a very louse, bred in thy crosselegg'd
profession; that having suckt a little bloud of Gentility,
instead of thy usuall bread breakfast, art growne to a
saucy familiarity, with thy maintainers. Thou buy'st thy
of a cheater.
Spruce.
Warrant, thou lyest.
Warr.
How I lie. That some-body were here to stand
betwixt us. Come not neere me, lest I blast thee with the
breath of my just indignation.
Spruce.
Keepe at distance Warrant, lest I lame thee, and
send thee from Constable to Constable in a Wheelebarrow.
Warr.
For this Spruce I will not compassionate the good
parts which my Lady commends in thee. Thy Fiddlesticke
shall not save thee; nor thy capring lift thee an inch
from the ground which I have laid for thy destruction.
Spruce.
Warrant, thou art the very parings of a Pedanticke
to flout the compleatnesse of education. Because thy
dulnesse is capable of no more then to frame Hetroclites
from mens names, and scribble a warrant or a mittimus by
a president; yet thou art a Justices Clerke.
Warr.
And thou a Ladies Gentleman Vsher, a bundle
of complementall follyes stitcht up with how-dee's. I
will send thee anon upon a visit to the Divell.
The third Scœne.
Enter Svsan, by the middle Scœne.Susan,
Fie Mr. Spruce and Mr. Warrant, how loud you
are! my Ladie heares your noise, and is offended.
Spruce.
Yes, my Rapier and mine arme shall maintaine
it upon his life, I love you best.
Susan.
Indeed Mr. Spruce and I love you.
Warr.
I'le maintaine it against the life of all the world,
I love you best.
Susan.
Truely Mr. Warrant and I love you.
Spruce.
He that offers to love her besides my selfe, dies.
Susan.
Mr. Spruce and Mr. Warrant, send but for one
Warr.
I'le brooke no Rivall.
Spruce.
Nor I; death must determine it.
Warr.
Remember then, I must to the Cutlers.
Warrant goes forth by the middle Scœne.
Susan.
Though I am but a waiting-uman, I haue more
wit then to believe this is earnest. As if I did not know
them to bee as arrant Cowards, as a Justices Clerke or
Gentleman Vsher can be; and deserve rather to be whipt
by a Satire, then rewarded for their valours with the
love of a gentleuman. But Mr. Spruce doe you meane to
fight?
Spruce.
Yes, and kill him too. I feare nothing but death
and the Gallowes; from which you may save me.
Susan.
As how? the meanes.
Spruce.
Begg me, I say beg me. Let not my good parts
be made unusefull by an untimely turne at Tyburne. Me
thinks I see the pittifull spectators condoling me. The
fish-wives drowning their dead soles with salt water from
their eyes; the Oyster-wives weeping for me in most lamentable
pickle. An hundred Chamber-maids running
stark mad, and as many more falling into the greene sicknesse
with longing for me. Begg me therefore (I say) resolve
to begg me, and make great hast. It is my feare above
death, that otherwise some rich Citty Heyre will
prevent you. Resolve therefore to be the first that shall
begg me.
Susan.
As I am a Gentleuman Mr. Spruce, if you kill
him fairely in a duell; and upon no base advantage I'le
doe it.
Spruce.
Confirme it then with a kisse, and inspire an
Herculean valour into me.
Susan.
By no meanes at this time. I'le kisse you at the
gallowes. My Lady.
The fourth Scœne.
Enter Lady and Dorothy by the middle Scœne.Lady.
You see how my obedient youth
Hath joyn'd it selfe with an unequall mate;
Your aged father, onely to satisfie
The Provident will of Parents. Doe you so.
Fortune hath made me now your Mother.
Had nature don't, my care could not be greater,
Nor more my providence to dipose your good.
Doroth.
Mother, the duty which I owe my Father
You (being his) must share: and this expression
Of more then common love, I must repay
With more then common gratitude.
Lady.
Then tell me,
Now time hath given your age perfection;
Your roses are full blowne, and fit for gathering,
Doe you not long for a husband?
Doro.
Not with much earnestnes: I have as yet
No passionate desires; as yet no breath
Poyson'd with Hyperbolicall flatteries
Hath courted my poore beauty; no deep vowes
Have paid idolatrous sacrifice of service
To my faire hand, whose whitenes if but kis't
Can purifie a soule. Beleeve me yet
The man's a stranger to my knowing memory
That ever said he lov'd me.
Lady.
But take heed:
There are a sort of fond effeminate men,
Deepe studied in discoursive complement,
That many times will wast more ayery language
To take a sollemne leave, then would make up
A Citty Oratour.
Beware that no such oyle-tongu'd amorist
And captivate thy weaknesse. 'Tis their practise
To glory in diversity of Mistrisses:
And when one frownes or chides their over-daring
With a repulse, will not stick to revenge it
With a foule defamation of her honour.
Susan.
Neither can a Gentleuman be in love now and
then out she is censur'd.
La.
Let not thine eares drink in their Rhetorick charms,
Lest they bewitch thy glorious understanding
To dote on their pretences, which perhaps
Shall be chast love for it's Creations end:
When but their covetous hopes preferre a portion
Before your beauty, birth or education;
And yet perhaps there is disparitie
'Twixt lower fortunes, and their weake desert.
Deceit's a cunning baud, and many times
Makes vertue prostitute it selfe to misery.
Doroth.
There is a power
Call'd Fate, which doth necessitate the will,
And makes desire obedient to it's rule.
All the resisting faculties of reason,
Prevention, feare and jealousie are weake
To disanull what in it's firme decrees
Is once determin'd. Yet my heart is free;
Vnbounded by the stricter limits of
Particular affection: so I'le keepe it.
No proud ingratefull man shall ever triumph
O're the captiv'd sweets of my Virgin love.
Nor a vain-glorious gull that offers service
To every noted beauty, boast my favour.
I'le cloath my thoughts in humorous observation;
And if on any that sollicits love
I fixe a liking, I'le refer my selfe
To what is destin'd for me.
Lady.
The resolution's noble; I commend it.
The fifth Scœne.
Enter Littlevvord and Mris. Tongall , by the middle Scœne.Lady.
Welcome Mistris Tongall; welcome. You are
the onely company in the neighbour-hood. A Ladie can
ill be without you.
Tong.
This Gentleman Madame, whom I presume to
commend to your Ladiships acquaintance, is of worthy
birth and education: the Littlewords are not moderne; besides
their Auncestors were great Philosophers.
Susan.
And the latter great fooles.
Tong.
Goe, and talke to her. I'le tell your Ladiship a
strange thing of the Little-words. In seven generations
there was but one girle, and shee dyed an infant. Contrariwise
of the Tongalls there's but one man left, that's my
Husband, and he's a Lawyer: now your Ladiship knowes
hee gets nothing but wenches. Speake to her Mr. Little-word.
La.
Is the Gentleman of so good education?
Tong.
Extraordinary Madame; hee's a wit. I would
my Tynny were worthy of him, he should seeke no further.
I pray Mr. Littleword speake to her.
Lady.
Can he Poetise Mris. Tongall?
Tong.
Excellently Madame; hee hath things in print.
His next dedication shall be to your Ladiship. Why doe
you not goe and talke to her?
Lady.
What estate hath he?
Tong.
Five hundred a yeare present possession, more in
reversion. This Gentleman, Mris. Dorothy, is my friend,
and desire's to bee your servant. I have made way now,
why doe you not speake to her? I am bold to commend
him to your liking.
Doro.
Pray you Mris. Tongall, what wages takes he?
You mistake Mris. Dorothy; 'tis your love hee
would serve you for.
Doro.
That's a cold reward; a Livery would keepe
him warmer.
Ton.
Fie, that you will not speake to her. And how
doth your Ladiship like an old man?
Lady.
A cold bed fellow. But Religion and Conscience.
Now 'tis done I must love him. Would hee were not
jealous.
Tong.
None are so confident (Madame) as cuckolds.
But your Ladiships knowne vertue will soone put out the
eyes of his suspition. Speake to her Mr. Littleword.
Susan.
I would not now for all the Sacke in Spaine my
loving humour were upon mee. This dumb Gentleman
would make me forsweare the qualitie.
Dorot.
Sure Mris. Tongall your friend would make an
excellent midwife; he can keepe secrets.
Tong.
'Tis his modestie Mris. Dorothy. Blesse mee that
you would not speake to her.
The sixth Scœne.
Enter Ierker, Artlove and Ieffrey, by the middle Scœne.Ierk.
Madame, I am bold to commend this Gentleman,
who will deserve your acquaintance.
Artl.
As far as my power will extend to expression.
La.
You are welcome Mr. Jerker and this Gentleman,
and shall bee whilst your visits are seasonable. But you
know I have a jealous husband.
Ierk.
There are medicines to cure it Madame.
Ieffr.
May not I salute the Ladie Cousin?
Ierk.
'Tis but courtesie and manners.
Ieffr.
I am bold with your Ladiships lip.
La.
'Tis marvell you blush not. So bold and so young!
you'l make up the number of the ten Worthies.
Ieffr.
Madame, I am neither Infidell, Iew, nor good
Christian; though I am little, I dare be your Ladiships
Champion in an active skirmish.
Tong.
This 'tis to be backward: you'l never thrive in
any thing unles you are more forward. Lose such an opportunity
with not speaking to her!
Lady.
Secretarie.
Susan.
Madame.
Lady.
Goe, and direct the Cooke.
Svsan goes forth by the middle Scœne.
Artl.
How on a sodaine my resolves are numb'd,
And frozen into silence, that confirmes
The first distrust of my knowne indeservings,
I dare not speake.
Doroth.
Shall I have another dumb servant! Are you
not well Sir?
Artl.
Well Ladie! yes. Health it selfe
Is a disease in others, if compar'd
With th'absolute state of mine. Where you are present
Sicknesse can have no power over frailtie.
The beames which you bright eyes shoot, purifie
The most infectious ayre. Your words distill
A Balme more precious then that Miracle
The Chymicks dreame of.
At distance I have often seene your beauty;
And thence receiv'd a fire, whose quickning flames
Did animate my soule, that else was earthy,
A lump of passive dulnesse; now 'tis active:
And if you please to cherish it, shall pay
All it's derivative abilities
Vnto your lowest service.
Doro.
You too much flatter my unworthinesse:
And in that likewise derogate
From your owne fulnesse of admired merit.
In your bright forehead, and your formes exactnesse,
A man repleat with all perfections.
Whose very superfluities might be
Additions to the barren worths of others.
Ierk.
And can there be greater disparity?
Would it not seeme a Prodigie in nature,
To have greene Summer with her rose-crown'd head
Kisse the white isicles from Winters beard?
Extinguish her bright fires in his cold bosome?
Madame, I know your sportive Youth desires
A more proportion'd mixture. Come, let's trie.
Fire put to fire increaseth active Flames;
Contraries dull each other with confusion:
Such are the frozen kisses of your Husband,
Vnto your warme delights—
Art.
Ladie, if any worth appeare in me
It must derive it's fulnesse from your liking:
Had I infus'd into me all the excellence
Of those Heroicks whom the Poets fain'd;
Were I made up with all Perfections
That Fiction ever painted, to expresse
Desert in freshest colours;
Vnlesse you cal'd it worth, 'twere but a subject
For base contempt, though popular admiration
Gav't divine Attributes. Since you commend
The faculties your whitenesse must dispose of—
Ieffr.
Aske your husband leave! by this hand I would
not aske an Alderman leave to Cuckold him. So he might
take example from a Citty kinde one, whose Wife long'd
to kisse a Lord: upon which he grew so proud for being
exalted above the rest of his neighbours, that he would
suffer none to Cuckold him ever after but Lords.
Dorot.
By no meanes Sir.
Wrong not your judgement, which must needs bee absolute.
The choice of me
The Cyprian Queene had shee but seene your face,
Would ne're have dy'd the roses with her blood,
Wept on their palenesse for Adonis losse:
But circled in a ring of all her graces
Court your celestiall forme upon the bosome
Of some more fragrant Tempe.
Artl.
She mocks me sure.
Dor.
Did Syrens heare your voice they would give o're
Their own malicious charms: and through the witchcraft
Of it's more powerfull musicke, rage with madnesse:
Leaving their proper element to dye
In the pursuit of sweeter melody.
Artl.
This grosse flattery, Ladie,
Commends your wit, rather then your good nature.
My heart is a plaine heart, and my desires
Are truly vertuous, not to be contemn'd.
Lady.
Fie, Mr. Ierker! besides the words incivility,
I did not expect such absurditie in a reputed wit. Could
you not haue couch'd it better; shall I have leave to doe
your Ladiship a piece of night service; or so. Come,
come, forbeare these wicked sollicits, or I shall disclaime
the promise of my favours reversion when my old Husband
die's, if nature be not mercilesse, and I goe first.
The seventh Scœne.
Enter Sir Generovs Worthy , and young Worthy, by the middle Scœne.Sir Gen.
Ha! what's here! Courtship on all hands?
Lady.
My Husband.
Dorot.
My Father, and my Brother.
Y. Worth.
I like not this.
Sir Gen.
Mr. Ierker, you are welcome, I hope; having
fail'd in his old, hee hath not a new suit; that as I made
mee.
Ierk.
Let his jealousie conster it into truth.
Lady.
He shall neuer be but a Vnicorne.
Ierk.
Madame, however I appeare in my wildnesse, I
shall continue to your Ladiship in my first desires. So with
this tribute of my devotion.
Artl.
I would first kisse your hand.
Dorot.
My lip being too unworthy.
Tong.
I take my leave Madame.
Lady.
Farewell Mistris Tongall.
Sir Gen.
Son, schoole your Sister. Come with me Wife.
Y. Wor.
Sister, I can but wonder much, that you
Ex.
Should make your selfe the object of their Courtship,
Who beare perhaps but th'empty names of Gentlemen,
Without the reall fulnesse.
Doroth.
What meane you (Brother) by this introduction?
Y. Wor.
Sister, to take the priviledge of discretion,
And schoole your ignorant courtesie, that upon
The shadowes and appearances of Men
Confer your favours.
Dorot.
Brother, you may pretend your love
In this distrust; but 'tis an ill expression.
Thinke not my judgement subject to such weaknesse,
That I can build a faith on Complements,
Or (with rash passion) run into an error.
Nothing but knowne desert shall tye my thoughts
To a staid liking, if I may distinguish it.
And when my choice is fixt, it shall be such
As your fraternall love must not dispute.
Y. Wor.
Sister, my counsel's milde.
Nor would I have you violent in defence
Of a suspected folly. Guilt is aptest
To make excuse. But if your resolution
Be bent thus wilfully to persist in actions
Shall rage with such an anger, playes ne're painted.
Dorot.
Dishonour Brother, I have a spirit too,
That scornes as much an Act of foule dishonour,
As you, or any Masculine pretender
To noble Vertues. Guilt is aptest still
To be suspitious. If a maid be free
In her discourse, and courteous entertainment,
She straight is censur'd. But let a man appeare
Stuck full of apish Courtship; light, inconstant,
As talkative as Parrats, that are taught
A voyces imitation; one that courts
Every tam'd beauty with a seeming zeale;
As if his soules devotion were restrain'd
Onely to her Divinitie; this man's call'd
A well-bred complementall Gentleman.
Mens greatest follies, if compar'd with ours,
Are vertues, fit for our imitation.
Y. Wor.
Sister, your Satyr smart's not:
The lashes reach not me.
Dorot.
They are but suppositions Brother.
And pray suppose the Gentleman that seem'd
To court my beauty, were indeed a man,
Not guilded imperfections; one whose words
Were full of weighty judgement, not mere sound;
Whose reall vertues did beget an envie,
Perhaps an emulation in all others;
And from the freedome of his richer minde
He gave himselfe and them to be my servants;
What gratitude in me might equall this?
Y. Wor.
I know you are free.
And rather then a complementall servant
Should be discourag'd in his serious wantonnesse,
You'l give it countenance to make him bold
In's amorous pursuit; perhaps to th'impudence
Of a lascivious charge upon your modestie;
Because you scorne ingratitude.
Brother, did not the ties
Of love and nature check my forward aptnesse,
I'de tell you y'are not noble, and suspect
Whether your mind hold that derivative goodnesse
Which generous bloud communicates, to suspect
Her resolute constancie whom you call Sister.
Thinke not your being a man prerogative
To be the onely Counsellor in manners
Brother, though to your person I am partiall.
Through confidence of your appearing vertue;
The generall vices noted in your sexe,
Such as with publique ostentation
You glory to be guiltie of, which in
Our very thoughts raise blushes—
Y. Wor.
Sister no more.
Leaving these circumstantiall arguments,
Pray let a Fathers care and Brothers love
Commend him first whom you intend for Husband:
You'l finde us tyrants else. Nature is kind;
But if provokt, she hath a Tygers mind.
Ile finde him out and satisfie my selfe
How farre he is deserving.
Goes forth by the middle Scene.
Dorot.
How is our weaknes trodden and insulted on
By these imperious men! Aid me resolves
Against their threats and counsels, unlesse grounded
On stronger reasons then suspition.
As the pure Oare refin'd exceeds in value
Treble proportions of the courser drosse;
So true desert in Man an outward glosse.
Goes forth by the middle Scœne.
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