 | Covent Garden |  |
Act. 3.
Scœn. 1.
Enter Dorothy and Svsan, in the Balcone.Susan.
Come Mris Dorothy; here's a Moone would
make a great bellied uman long for greene cheese. Me
thinks 'tis pleasant taking the ayre by Moone-shine.
Dorot.
But 'tis not so healthfull The night infects the
ayre with unwholsome vapours.
Susan.
A figg for these Physicall observations. I have
knowne a Doctors prescriptions cast down a Gentleuman
for three quarters of a yeare. But if ever I lie under any of
them for the greene sicknes.
Dorot.
Fie upon thee.
Susan.
Why I doe not meane naughtines. But what
doe you thinke made me so earnest to have you hither?
Doroth.
Some wanton humour. You have drunke a
cup of Sacke, and want a handsome Gentleman to bee in
love with.
Susan.
No such matter. Ile not drinke a drop more till
towards supper. I brought you to see a Duell.
Doroth.
Blesse me; betwixt whom?
Susan.
My Ladies Gentle-man, and Mr. Warrant.
Doroth.
They are unequally weapon'd. Mr. Spruce,
though hee be a Tailor weares a—the foolish rime runs
in my head. I had almost said a dagger, but 'tis a sword;
and my Fathers Clerke hath onely his inkhorne.
Susan.
And that's a terrible one. But I saw the Cutler
bring him a sword; I saw it naked, which was enough
to fright many a gentleuman. I saw him trie it on a bar of
iron in the kitchin; and many more fearfull preparations.
But will not you prevent them?
Susan.
By no means, unlesse there were more danger.
'Twill be mirth for this twelve-month, if our eyes
(through this imperfect Moone-light) can but reach the
sight of them. What confident daring will be betwixt
them at some great distance?
Dorot.
And what's their quarrell?
Susan.
The love of a Gentleuman, I assure you.
Dorot.
Your selfe perhaps.
Susan.
No otherwise indeed. My beauty is the object
of their valour. The Combatants will enter presently. The
Knight of the Inkhorne, and the Knight of the Spanish
Needle.
Doro.
Both affecting the Lady of the Closet. But Mris.
Secretary, what if my Lady Mothers Chamber-maid and
Ioane in the Kitchen were here?
Susan.
For you to make them Ladies, as you have done
me. Indeed they might serve by Moone-light; the day
perhaps would discover a greasie Gentry.
Dorot.
Fie; now you forget your selfe.
Susan.
'Tis ordinary for a waiting-Gentleuman but
newly made a Lady to forget her selfe. But see, I am prevented
from proceeding. Let us observe.
The second Scœne.
Enter Warrant, and a little after him Sprvce, by the middle Scœne.Warr.
'Tis a good sword; it cost me two pieces. No
matter. Many a mans death hath cost more at the Physitians.
Who would be affraid to kill a man; when hee is
sure of his pardon?
Dorot.
Hee is now in some deepe meditation of your
beautie.
Susan.
See Mistris, there's the other.
That sure is Warrant. I'le goe this way. It
shall never be said I went after a man to kill him, though
I am confident Mistris Secretary will begg me.
Dorot.
They goe contrary wayes. Wee shall not see
the fight. They meane to meete and end it at the Antipodes.
Warr.
But what should I thinke of killing him? I
know hee dare as well take the wall of a drunken Constable,
or justle a Buffe-coat leading a wench, as meet me.
Susan.
Me thinks I perceive them stand.
Spruce.
Yes, yes; 'tis Warrant: I smell him hitherto.
Warr.
Is not that Spruce? certainly 'tis hee, Me thinks
I see him tremble hitherto. Hee dare not come neere me;
and I scorne to goe to him to kill him: It may hinder my
pardon. Therefore he shall assault me first.
Dorot.
Why, they are fixt. Hath not feare congeal'd
them into stones?
Susan.
Dissolv'd them rather into gelley.
Warr.
That some good fellow would but come and
beat the cowardly Rascall.
Spruce.
That some Sharke would come now and take
away his hat or cloake.
Susan.
Now could I fancy in my imagination what they
say. Mr. Warrant. O that I had this Coward Spruce here:
I would dismember him; and then what Gentleuman
would care a rush for him? Now Mr. Spruce hath studien
the Arcadia. He sayes. Oh that I had this Warrant here
It would cut him into atomes; that wheresoever the Sun
shines, the trophees of my renowned victorie might bee
visible.
Aarr.
That he would but come a little neerer.
Spruce.
That hee were but within twice my swords
length.
Warr.
I would I had but a leg or an arme of him, since
he will not come, that I may kill him.
Spr.
That I had but his head here; how I would shave it.
The third Scœne.
Enter Ralph and Dobson by the left Scœne.Ralph.
This is the vertue of Sack boy. Who would
toile in durt for whay and butter-milke, or the windie
juice of Pome-waters upon Sundayes? Now could I be as
valiant as—nothing.
Dobs.
I could fight with an Army of Polecats, so they
were not Women.
Ralph.
I could take the wall of three times three Taylors,
though in the morning, and at a Bakers stall.
Dobs.
That were a way to have thy skin bodkind full
of ilet holes.
Ralph.
If I should throw downe three or foure postes.
Dobs.
What then?
Ralph.
What then! why, I would not stay to take
them up.
Susan.
Who are these? observe.
Ralph.
Give me an armour of Sack; I am shot-free.
Dobs.
Whilst my Master paye's the reckoning.
Susan.
Mistris Dorothy, I have fasten'd on a designe for
rare sport. My friends.
Dorot.
Will you talke to strangers in the street?
Ralph.
What say you pretty paire of Wag-tailes? doe
you want Play-mates?
Susan.
Will you doe a courtesie for a Gentleuman?
Ralph.
Within dores, or without?
Susan.
You seeme to be valiant.
Dobs.
They that trie us shall finde our mettall.
Susan.
Perceive you not two men yonder in severall
places?
Ralph.
Wee see somthing, but they may as well be
stockes.
Susan.
For any manhood that's in them. If you will but
reward shall attend it.
Ralph.
How are we sure they are Cowards?
Susan.
You may trust the word of a Gentleuman.
Dobs.
Come, come, thou standest doubting like a cowardly
foole. These may bee Gentlewoemen of good fashion,
and apt to take fire at valour. Who knowes what
preferment's neere us? We have persons.
Ral.
Why then forwards: call upon sack, Dobson, sack.
Warr.
Who are these come towards me? my courage
begins to have an ague.
Spruce.
Who may these be? my wish (I hope) some
good fellowes to rob him.
Dobs.
What was our Commission Ralph? to beat them,
and not kill them.
Ralph.
To kill them and not hurt them? Call upon
Sacke, Dobson: I begin to be affraid. I can perceive his
sword; he shakes it fearefully.
Dobs.
Draw thine-then; and sack, sack the walles
of Troy.
Warr.
The rogue Spruce hath sent them to beate mee.
'Tis so. I must shift for my selfe.
Ralph.
Sirrah, thou man of feare and trembling. Call
upon Sacke, Dobson.
Warr.
Alas, what meane you Gentlemen?
Ralph.
Not so gentle neither. Wee are fiery furious,
and command thee in the name of Sack, resigne thy weapon;
and submit to be corrected by our valour.
Warr.
Kinde Gentlemen, I hope you'l not kill me. I'le
doe any thing, rather then be kill'd.
Ralph.
A handsome beating shall asswage our fury.
Warr.
Sweet Gentlemen, I'le doe any thing rather then
be beaten.
Spruce.
'Tis so; they are robbing him, and I scorne to
aid him. Teach the rogue to be such a coward: he might
have come to me.
Are you prepar'd Sir?
Warr.
Mercifull Gentlemen: I have some money, a
Cloake and a good Beaver: I'le give you all, and forgive
you too, so you'l not beat me.
Dobs.
This was beyond our expectation.
Ralph.
Our mercy may bee brought to a composition.
But should we be pittifull, could you be content, since you
cannot fight in your owne defence, to lye in our defence.
Warr.
I'le say or sweare any thing, rather then be kill'd
or beaten.
Ralph.
That we did beat you?
Warr.
That you left mee dead. I'le lye at a Surgeons
these two moneths; and pretend that my skull was broken
in twelve places: that halfe my braines were putrified
and taken out. I'le be mad all my life after to confirme
people in the beliefe of it.
Ralph.
Depart then, and praise us.
Warr.
Yes, at the gallowes. I'le have you hang'd for
robbing me: I shall teach you to attempt any thing on a
Justices Clerke.
Goes forth by the right Scœne.
Susan.
Nay, pray you stay a little longer.
Dorot.
I am weary; wee'l imagine the rest done. I'le
send my Brother forth to make them friends.
Exeunt from the Balcon.
Spruce.
'Tis done sure. Now will I home, proclaime
him a coward, and triumph. Ha! doe they way-lay mee!
the rogue hath hir'd them to beat or rob me. An ague of
feare is upon me. Now could I wish my selfe transform'd
into a beast, and have foure legs. These two which have
beene my most usefull members will surely faile.
Ralph.
Sirrah, you Raskall.
Spruce.
You mistake Sir, I am a Gentleman Vsher.
Ralph.
Then thou abuser of wit and good cloathes, be
mannerly, and uncover to thy betters.
I hope Gentlemen you doe not meane to rob
me? Trust me, I have no money, but a few farthings of
my Ladies to give poore people.
Ralph.
We will be satisfied with a small diminution of
your plentifull Wardrobe. Wee know you have more
Cloakes and Beavers at home.
Spruce.
No I protest Gentlemen. I have but this onely
case for my Carkasse: and 'twill not be quite paid for til
the next quarter.
Dobs.
Why then Sir, we will beat you handsomly, and
that shall allay our fury.
Spruce.
Nay kinde Gentlemen, I had rather stand to my
Ladies bountie, then be beaten.
Ralph.
Why then thanke our mercy and depart, whilst
we like honest theeves share our booty.
Spruce.
And I find out the Constable.
Goes forth by the right Scœne.
The fourth Scœne.
Enter Artlove by the left Scœne.Artl.
How glorious shews heaven with trembling lights
Sparkling their distant beames! The full orb'd Moone
Borne on nights dewie wings, rides in her Sphœre;
And throwes the shine which from her brothers rayes
She borrowes to illuminate the earth
Through thinner ayre, where no condensed vapours
Are interpos'd to let her piercing eye
From seeing that which she gives sight to. Yet
My heart is wrapt in clouds of leaden sadnesse.
Love is not that in me which others feigne it.
I dreame not of delights; my busie fancie
Presents no fabulous heaven. A hell of torment
Darken's my mind's bright faculties; and reason
suffers it selfe to be ecclips'd by passion.
Now wee are enter'd Ralph, what if wee made
this our profession? many a one lives by it.
Ralph.
And many a one is hang'd for it.
Artl.
Oft have these instruments of heavens influence
Seene my contemplative watchings;
When with profound and an unwearied search
I have scan'd the causes of their great effects;
And waded through the most inscrutable secrets
Both of the mediate and immediate nature.
But comming once to read a Womans face,
There were so many heavens, that every thought
In me, requir'd a severall understanding,
To give each severall grace a severall name,
And definition.
Dobs.
Thou art affraid of the gallowes?
Ralph.
Not much of the gallowes without a hangman.
Artl.
The Chaos and the earth were loves first Parents;
And yet the child did give the Parents forme.
What Riddles are in nature!
Man's a disorder'd Masse, a meere confusion
Of rude, inanimate sense and understanding.
Vntill inspir'd with loves diviner soule.
The sense is tir'd, unlesse it varye's objects.
Knowledge would be finite, were not the mind
Delighted with diversitie.
But love's a subject for eternall studie;
And one faire booke preserv'd so, a full library.
Dobson.
I am resolv'd; I'le nor spare man, woman nor
child, whilst the sack works.
Ralph.
For women and children let me alone: if I fall
upon the one, Ile soone get the other.
Artl.
What fabulous errors learning is attended with!
Plato's five Worlds; their sempiternitie;
Pythagoras transmigration; and opinions
Judgement would blush to father. But a woman,
Did men contemplate such a one as I doe,
All the fam'd excellence of former beauties
In her more perfect frame.
The fifth Scœne.
Enter young Worthy by the middle Scœne.Y. Wor.
Is't possible such shew of resolution
Should appeare in Cowards! I'le make them friends.
And that being done mine owne intentions
Must be pursu'd to finde that Gentleman
Courted my Sister. Love of all sorts bends
It selfe to courses for it's severall ends.
Dobs.
Now for a daring Constable.
Ralph.
Without his staffe of authoritie, or a fortification
of Sack. A Constable may be valiant when hee commands
others what he cannot doe himselfe.
Y. Wor.
What! my paire of valiant Cowards! friends
already.
Dobs.
How! Cowards! swallow that word, or it shall
choake thee.
Y. W.
These fellowes have out gone their Commission
and rob'd them: I was a wise man to come abroad without
a sword.
Ralph.
Hee hath never a sword. Sirrah, thou man of
presumption, that hast profan'd our incomparable valour,
redeeme thy forfeited life of our mercie with some gold
or silver pictures out of thy silken pockets.
Y. Wor.
They'l rob me too: Why, Gentlemen, silke
clothes have not money in them at all times.
Ralph.
He lookes terribly Dobson. Call upon Sack.
Dobs.
I will cleave him at one stroke.
Y. W.
Doe you meane to murther a Gentleman?
Artl.
Murder a Gentleman the voyce came thence.
Ile rescue him, though danger and destruction
Y. W.
You have done a benefit I must acknowledge.
Artl.
That's to reward it sir; from which base ends
Good actions should be free. I'de gladly heare
A short relation of the Accident.
Dobs.
Why dost thou quake so Ralph?
Ralh.
Why dost thou tremble so Dobson? I dare bee
whipt if these bee not some kin to the Gentlewoman that
sent us hither from the thing at yonder house.
Y. W.
Were you sent to rob or kill me?
Dobs.
Alas Gentlemen, we are very ingrums.
Ralph.
Meere Country Animals. Wee have valour to
steale a May-pole, or rob the Parsons Hens-nest: but to
kill a man as far from our intents or daring, as pittie from
an Executioner, or bashfulnesse from a Jingo.
Y. W.
Forbeare the rest. This affords me matter: Returne
to that house, there leave your bootie and receive
your reward; onely this I'le keepe.
Ralph.
With all our hearts: wee had rather any body
should have them, then the hangman both them and us
for them. Come Dobson, we have got the money yet; and
a little sack will animate us againe. My soul's under foot;
I must raise it: But if ever I quarrell againe by Moone-shine
unlesse I am drunk, valour forsake me.
Goe forth by the left Scœne.
Y. W.
Blest Accident I 'tis surely the same.
After a stricter view, my memory
Vnlesse it erres, tells me I have seene your person
Before this at my fathers.
Artl.
If you are the son of Sir Generous Worthy.
Y. H.
It was the blessing
Nature and Fortune did bestow on me.
Art.
It is indeed a blessing, when the vertues
Of noble Races are hereditary;
And doe derive themselves from th'imitation
Of vertuous Ancestours. You have a faire Sister.
Her beautie is not worth your commendations.
Artl.
Your modestie is too severe
In your restraint from praising her pure excellence,
Which should be Poets studie; not with fiction,
And common figures, but diviner attributes:
Then they must call it nothing but it selfe.
Y. W.
Have I found you? I shall search you deeper.
Artl.
The subjects weight would make a Poem weighty;
And take away the imputation
Which seeming solidnesse would throw upon't
Of a light fancie.
Y. W.
It seemes you love my Sister?
Artl.
He were a Divell did not love such goodnesse.
It is the onely vertue frailty boasts of,
To love faire sensuall objects: but my soule
Hath noted inward beauty in her mind,
Which makes me glory (though it be presumption)
That I doe love her.
Y. W.
Cal't not presumption sir, you doe deserve her,
In that you have indear'd me for my life
Who am her Brother. And I commend your wit,
Which I presume my Sisters love hath whetted.
'Twas a quaint Plott. Were th'Actors here againe,
I'd pay their wages.
Artl.
Your Riddle needs some Oedipus to solve it.
Y. W.
Why sir, ridiculous fables
May sometimes serve for imitation.
Though twere a meere appointment in this rescue,
To shew your love and valour.
Artl.
What base suspition
Poysons his jealous thoughts! 'Tis injurie
Beyond all patience.
Y. W.
Alas sir, you are mov'd?
Art.
Yes, to an indignation, whose just heat
Burnes me almost to rage. But there are charmes
You are her Brother.
Young. Wor.
It seemes your guilt dare not denie the truth?
Artl.
Dare not denie it!
Were thy hands armd with Thunder;
Hadst thou a Gorgons looke, wer't not her Brother,
Ring'd in the terror of a thousand Jibbets
And executioners, I have a point
Should finde thy hart out.
Y. W.
But I must tell you sir,
Seldome high spirits that pursue their honours,
With earnest flights, will stoop at weake respects:
But prey upon th'opinion of those men
That scan their actions; tearing their reputations
Out of suspitions bowels. Hee's not a Gentleman
Will not preserve his honour.
Artl.
Your speech, Sir,
Savours of strange severity. My honour
Is that part of my selfe, without which
The man that's in me can have no subsisting.
Honour's the greatest of exteriour goods,
And must be still pursu'd as the reward
Due unto vertue, through the greatest dangers.
Yet fortitude is not the appetite
Of formidable things, nor inconsult
Rashnes; but vertue fighting for a truth;
Deriv'd from knowledge of distinguishing
Good or bad causes. Thinke me not a Coward
Because I am not rash: nor through defect
Of better counsell, doe not resist the force
Of will or passion; howsoe're your jealousie
Proceeding from our better thoughts infection
Hath beene a provocation. And perhaps
The love I beare your Sister, will appeare
Your chiefest safety.
Y. Wor.
In an attempt of right
Can arme me with But if you love my Sister,
It must be honourable and not wanton:
She will finde Champions else.
Artl.
It must be honourable!
Those words include a doubt works strangely in me.
Love must not wrack my reputation.
Sir, I begin to scan the circumstance,
And conster your intention. You would trie me:
But your temptations have beene too abusive.
And now my resolution is prepar'd
To doe my credit justice.
Y. W.
You will not fight with me that am her Brother?
Artl.
There's Magick in those words.
Y. W.
I doe presume my Sister will reward you
For these expressions. She is free to pay
Her servants promis'd wages; be it kisses,
Or any other dalliance.
Artl.
What a prophane breath from his blacke mouth flies,
Would poison all the idolatrous religions
That e're aw'd wicked mortalls.
He is not sure her brother, but some impostor,
That onely counterfeit's his worthier person.
I could be patient at the lye, or Coward,
Or any thing that can make passion violent.
But her bright honour staind's a cause of justice
To arme a Nation. Draw, if th'art a man;
And with the plea of valour, (if th'ast any)
Defend thy errours: Draw thy sword.
Y. W.
Not against him that loves my Sister.
Artl.
Is my just anger mock't! love made ridiculous!
Draw; lest I make my selfe an Executioner.
And doe an act of justice on thy guilt.
Y. W.
Never against your bosome, where a spirit
So truely noble dwel's, that hath converted
All my faign'd jealousies to usefull love.
I am confounded to amazement.
Y. W.
Pray reconcile all your distractions.
Let not the least distrust abuse your confidence
Of what I undertake. My Sister's yours,
If the advise of me that am her Brother,
And interested in her good or ill,
Can be prevailing.
Artl.
Then requesting Sir,
That you'l presume no more upon the priviledge
Of that pure love I beare your vertuous Sister
T'admit a jealousie of any action,
Or thought of mine which tends not unto noblenesse,
Next unto her my bosome holds you deare,
And shall doe ever.
Y. W.
So mine the like. Thus noble causes
Put fire into the spirits of full men.
Though sometimes seeming valour may arise
Through lust or wine, from hatefull cowardise.
Goe forth by the left Scœne.
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