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The fifth Scœne.
To them Keeper and Slip.Oh Father, you are come in time to see me undone: I met
this Gentlewoman as I was going to milking, and shee is
fallen dead. I shall be questioned.
Keep.
Why what is she?
Cice.
Nay that's as hard to tell, as the successe of my
danger. She nam'd one Worthgood.
Keep.
That word strike's deepe amazement. Is shee
quite dead!
Cice.
Dead as a herring Sir.
Slip.
And are not you in a pickle Cicely? She is not dead
Sir; she breathes.
Keep.
She may be recover'd. Pull her by the nose.
Slip.
Pull it off: no matter for spoyling her face if shee
be dead.
Keep.
Wring her by the little finger.
Slip.
Her little finger is ring'd; and I will wring it
from her.
Cice.
No robbing the dead Slip.
Slip.
Why should the dead partake of living ceremonies?
Keep.
Cast water on her face.
Blow winde in her face. Can water make one alive
that's dead? unlesse it be hot water.
Keep.
Her spirits are return'd; give her more ayre.
Slip.
A womans spirits? they are divellish sure: I had
best conjure them backe againe.
Bella.
Where am I! what a pleasant vision
Pleas'd my dead slumbers, and presented joyes.
As I was passing through th'eternall shades
Towards Elisium, one of fates Ministers
Told me I should returne; and this same day
Enjoy my Worthgood.
Keep.
What's he should own that name! wonder and doubt
Have rais'd a warre within me, Looke up mistris:
You shall not want what comfort we can give you.
Bella.
Defend me gentle powers: yet yee shall never
O'retake my heart: thats still with Worthgood.
Keep.
For some blest Oracle to unfold the meaning
Of this so oft repeated name.
Bella.
Ere you returne me to my angry Vncle.
My soule shall flie and meet with his embraces.
Keep.
What meane you gentlewoman?
Bella.
You are murderers
Of that content in me goodnesse would cherish.
You serve the purposes of a passionate man
For base reward; and that shall render you
Base to opinion.
Slip.
Pray sir, let mee conjure downe this Divell in her
tongue; 'twill raise tempests else, Murderers, and base! Pray
Gentlewoman, to whom speake you all this?
Bella.
To you, the injurers of my true love
And Worthgoods.
Keep.
Mistris, we know you not; and all your words
Appeare distraction: Nor can they satisfie
Our yet amazement.
Bella.
If you are not such
As my too fearefull apprehension thought you,
Keep.
Such as doe compassionate
Your feeling sorrowes, and would comfort you.
Bella.
You'l then performe an act of piety
Worthy record. Since my distresse hath made me
The object of your pitty; pray conduct me
To some neere house, for I am wondrous faint.
Keep.
Goe home with her daughter; use your best care in
administring to her: we know not what fate depends upon
it. When I have walkt the round I'le returne.
Exeunt.
Slip.
But pray Ciceley, withall, neglect not my breakfast.
Rising early and walking gets us good stomacks: yet I
could be content to fast with such lac'd mutton and a good
cullice more then halfe a morning.
Keep.
What passions fight within me, that beget
Severall constructions of this accident?
But what my hope interprets cannot be.
How apt is misery to dreame that blessings
Are all immediate, and no underworkings
Of meanes and counsell! I'le not flatter it;
(Tis but th'effect of passion) but returne
To my delight of labour. Saw you the heard
Last night sirrah?
Slip.
Yes, sir.
Keep.
And how fed they?
Slip.
With their mouthes.
Keep.
You'l not leave your sawcie wit, untill it be beaten
out of you.
Slip.
'Twould be but sawcily done of it to leave me so:
but if it wil not keepe me from beating, I'le keepe it no longer;
but be mannerly. The deare fed well sir, onely a mischance.
Some Cuckolds curre (for I saw him run towards
London) had pull'd downe two or three young deare.
Keep.
And what did you with them?
Slip.
I sent a Fawne to a wanting poet, a friend of mine;
who I presume will make profitable use of it. Dresse it in
compassionate bounty must redeeme his lavender'd plush,
and commend him againe to converse with sacke and good
company.
Keep.
You have surely glean'd from that Poet.
Slip.
Somthing to make people laugh at me.
Keep.
What did you with the rest?
Slip.
A longing Lady in the strand had a pricket. Then I
sent a soare to Barber-Surgeons Hall. A little soare makes
them great feast.
Keep.
Well sirrah, round you the south side oth' Parke;
and meet me at the great Oake. I'le this way.
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