 | Totenham Covrt |  |
Act. 1.
Scœn. 1.
Enter Worthgood and Bellamie, as travailing together before day.Worthgood.
Come, my Delight; let not such painted griefes
Presse downe thy soule: the darknesse but presents
Shadowes of feare, which should secure us best From danger of pursuit.
Bella.
Would it were day:
My apprehension is so full of horrour,
I thinke each sound the ayre's light motion
Makes in these thickets, is my Vncles voyce,
Threatning our ruines.
Worth.
Let his rage persist
To enterprise a vengeance; wee'l prevent it.
Wrap't in the armes of night (that favours Lovers)
We hitherto have scap'd his eager search,
And are arriv'd neere London. Sure I heare
The Bridges Catarracts, and such like murmures
As night and sleepe yeeld from a populous number.
But when will it be day? the light hath comfort:
Our first of usefull senses being lost,
The rest are lesse delighted.
Worth.
Th'early Cocke
Hath sung his summons to the dayes approach:
'Twill instantly appeare. Why, startled Bellamie!
Bella.
Did no amazing sounds arrive your eare?
Pray listen.
Worth.
Come, come; 'Tis thy feare suggest's
Illusive fancies: under Loves protection
We may presume of safetie.
Within.
Follow, follow, follow.
She startles from him.
Bel.
Ay me, 'tis sure mine Vncle. Deare Love. Worthgood.
Wor.
Astonishment gath seiz'd my faculties.
My Love, my Bellamie. Ha!
Bella.
Dost thou forsake me Worthgood?
Exit, as loosing him.
Worth,
Where's my Love?
Dart from thy silver Crescent one faire beame
Through this black ayre thou Governesse of night,
To shew me whither she is led by feare.
Thou envious darknesse to assist us hither,
And now prove fatall.
Within.
Follow, follow, follow.
Worth.
Silence your noyse, ye clamorous ministers
Of this injustice. Bellamie is lost;
Shee's lost to me. Nor her fierce Vncles rage
Who whets your eagre aptnes to pursue me
With threats or promises; nor his painted terrors
Of lawes severity, could ever worke
Vpon the temper of my resolute soule,
To soften't into feare, till she was lost:
Hollow within.
Not all th'illusive horrors which the night
Presents unto th'imagination
T'affright a guilty conscience, could possesse me,
Whilst I possest my Love: the dismall shrieks
Whilst her soft palme warm'd mine, were musicke to me.
And were this hand but once more clasp't in hers,
This should resist th'assault, inspir'd by love
With more then humane vigour.
Within.
Follow, follow, follow.
Worth.
Their light appeare's. No safety doth consist
In passion or complaints. Night, let thine armes
Againe receive me; and if no kinde minister
Of better fate guide me to Bellamie;
Be thou eternall.
Within.
Follow, follow, follow.
Scœne. 2.
Enter Vncle, servants and tenants with lights, as pursuing them.Vnc.
Come, wing your hasts: I'le sweeten all your labours
With large rewards: doe but recover them,
I'le ease your rents; exact no costly customes;
Quarrell no more about your commons title.
Good neighbours forward: London's not farre off.
1 Ten.
'Tis so farre off, that I cannot see it.
Vncle.
The day will soone discover it.
2 Ten.
That day is sure a notable informer; yet I believe
He spyes more bad then he mends.
Vncle.
Come, follow me this way.
Exit with his seruants.
1 Ten.
Yes, we will follow; but at some wiser distance:
Stay neighbour let him goe. Shall wee rob our carcasses of
sleepe all night, that have beene sufficiently tyr'd with the
dayes toyles, for his reward? what will that be thinke you?
a Christmas dinner; with a Chine of his great Oxe that dy'd
at watering of the blayne.
2 Ten.
You say well neighbour:
1 Ten.
And the discourse of his Worships hunting her:
how many doubles shee made; and mock't his Worships
hope of a better dinner so long, till hee thought in his conscience
she was a Lancashire Witch.
2 Ten.
Yes neighbour, and a choller of Brawne that was
fatten'd with stale porredge.
1 Ten.
And a goose that broke her necke, creeping
through the hedge into the Parsons stubble.
2 Ten.
No neighbour, let the young couple goe, and
much joy go with them. Let us take up our rests in this thicket,
or the next house; for I am as sleepy as if I had eaten
a Puppie.
1 Ten.
How, eat a Puppie!
2 Ten.
Yes, a Puppie; I heard our Landlords Carter
speake it last Whitsontide in a Play.
1 Ten.
And I am as drousie as a Constable at midnight.
2 Ten.
Why then resolv'd: 'twill be day presently: let's put
out the candle, and go to bed, and farewel Landlord.
Exeunt.
The third Scœne.
Enter Bellamie.Bella.
The day begins to breake; and trembling light
As if affrighted with this nights disaster,
Steales through the farthest ayre, and by degrees
Salutes my weary longings. Yet 'tis welcome,
Though it betray me to the worst of fate
Love and desire e're suffer'd. Oh my Worthgood,
Thy presence would have check't these passions;
And shot delight through all the mists of sadnesse,
To guide my feare safe through the paths of danger:
But thou art lost, and all my joyes are fled
Not to returne without thee.
Singing within a farre off.
New feares assault me. 'Tis a womans voyce.
She sings; and in her musicks cheerefulnesse
Seemes to expresse the freedome of a heart
Not chain'd to any passions. Be propitious
Thou regent o're my fate, and guide her hither
Vnto my comfort.
The Song within.
when over the flowry meades
She dabbles in the dewe,
And sings to her Cowe;
And feeles not the paine
Of love or disdaine.
She sleepes in the night, though she toyles in the day;
And merrily passeth her time away.
What a blest state is this? the minds content
Sweeten's all sufferings of th'afflicted sense.
Those that are bred in labour thinke it sport
Aboue the soft delights which wanton appetite
Begets for others, whom indulgent fortune
Prefers in her degrees; though equall nature
Made all alike. Oh, might I change my misery
For such a shape of quiet.
The fourth Scœne.
To her Ciceley, as going to milking.Ile venture to accost her.
Ha! what silken butterfly's yonder! Shee looks
not like one that had kept her selfe warme all night at the
Brick-kils: yet silke petticoates many times are glad with
worse lodging.
Good morrow maid.
Cice.
Should I salute you so, 'twould bring my wit in
question. Pray you what are you?
Bella.
A distrest maid.
Cice.
A maid at your years, and so neere London; where
the sale of one at 15, is as rare as a light wenches conversion.
Never an early walking gallant to take you up this morning!
The Parke here hath fine conveniences: or Totenham Court's
close by: 'Tis suspected that fine Citie Ladies give away fine
things to Court Lords for a Countrey Banquet there.
Bella.
I cannot construe it; my innocence makes understanding
uselesse. Good mayd, wife or widdow (for sure you
are a woman) doe a courteous office to your sexe in me, and
guide me to London.
Cice.
It seems you are a kinde Countrey Gentlewoman,
that have bestow'd your Maidenhead on your Fathers servingman,
and are come up to have a Cittizen foder your
broken ware. The pollicie is growne stale: 'twould hardly
take ever since the Ballad curst the Carrier that brought her
to towne.
Bella.
Y'are a bad woman sure: and from th'aboundance
of your owne foule ils suspect all others.
Cice.
The toy is angry, it would faine counterfeit something:
perhaps to insinuate her selfe, and make me her agent.
But you are deceiv'd my pretty morsell of wantonnesse;
my selfe and my Milke-paile are both honest: I have
no disguis'd tone of Come, or three penny thrip to cloake a
procuresse. I am not the Blades intelligence whether Franke
or Moll remove their lodgings to scape the Constables
search and Bridewell. I will to my Cowes, and leave you to
the fate of the morning: despaire not of a customer; but be
sure I catch you not napping; for if I doe, I have lesse mercy
then Prentices at Shrovetide. I hate hedge-coupling
worse then fasting at Christmas, or a Puritans long Grace
over short Commons.
Bella.
If you are good, pray stay and comfort me.
Cice.
Why let but an honest Iury (which is a kind of wonder
in Middlesex) finde you not guilty of any thing that
may make compassion deafe—alas, she sownes; poore gentlewoman,
bee comforted. Should shee miscarry, I were in
danger, having no witnesse to purge the suspition of being
her murderesse.
Bella.
Worthgood farewell.
Cice.
Ha! what said she? Worthgood! I have heard my
Father often speake that name, and sigh after it. Alas, she is
dead; her breath scarce moves.
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.
The sixth Scœne.
To them Worthgood very pensive.Slip.
Pray stay sir, who comes yonder?
Keep.
Hee seemes a discontented Gentleman. Some
dueller perhaps.
Slip.
Some hot spur'd Gallant, that got a drunken feaver
last night, and must bleed this morning.
Keep.
Perhaps to revenge an affront done his Mistris.
Slip.
His common Mistris you meane sir.
Keep.
It needs no adjective the sense is common enough.
Slip.
So is the creature; a Cart take them. They have
infected more honest Alehouses with bad names, then Cakes
and Creame will ever restore againe. A wench is growne
a necessary appendix to two pots at Totenham Court.
Keep.
To your walke sirrah. I'le observe him.
Slip.
And I'le home to observe how I can sleepe after
early rising. If my master should catch me napping, 'tis but
dreaming a lie to excuse it. I'le perswade him 'tis as true
Prophecie as Bookers Almanacke.
Exit.
Worth.
After so many longings to salute
The welcome light, it hath betray'd my sense
Had made it uselesse; since it wants the object
Can both delight and feed it, Back blushing morne
To thy Mygdonian bed; there shake the dew
From thy wet locks; and teach thy guilty shame
To dye that red in an eternall black,
Vnlesse it bring more comfort.
Keep.
Discontent
Rides on his forehead; and doth seeme to trample
Vpon his soules dejection. Would I knew him.
Good morrow Sir.
Worth.
Ha! tis a faire salute.
I doe returne your wish.
Keep.
Sir, you must pardon me
If I seeme curious in some few demands.
My office and this place are priviledge
For more then questions. Pray Sir what are you?
Worth.
This sure is Marrowbone-Parke, and he the Keeper.
A Gentleman that comes not to offend you.
I spoyle no game: you see I am unfurnish'd
Of instruments for such a wanton mischiefe.
Keep.
But Sir, without a better satisfaction
I must suspect you still. Mere recreation
To walke for health seldome invites young Gallants
To leave their beds so early. I must have more.
Worth.
Must sawcie groome! can any patience
Conster it manners? Your rude compulsion shall not
Enforce me to expresse so weake a spirit,
Whilst I have hands, and this.
Keep.
At that guard Sir?
Then this must countercheck it. Either tell me
Your name, condition, and your busines here;
By my just anger for this foule provoking
I shall not spare you else.
Worth.
How happie now
Might this occasion make me, were she lost
I must preserve my selfe. Yet if thou triumph'st
In my submission, 'cause I had rather lose
A little outward credit to prevent
Worse mischiefe, know I can devise revenge,
Shall be a faire example for base difference
From the pretence of any borrowed power
To overdoe it's duty. My name's Worthgood.
Keep.
Enough; that word hath power to check the force
Of any passion, though the hottest rage
Enflam'd it to be active.
Worth.
Heer's a change.
Why sure my name's a spell. How it hath calm'd
The tempest of his fury!
Keep.
What black starre
Was found th'ascendant in my crooked birth;
That all my lifes sad accidents should be
Such pregnant ils begetting one another!
One suddaine rashnesse in a moment might
Perhaps have ruin'd him my dutie honours:
Making this hand a mover to his death,
Whose life I ought to cherish.
Worth.
What would'st else?
Keep.
Nothing but pardon Sir; or if you please
Th'occasion brought you hither. Lost you no company?
Worth.
It cannot sure be feare that makes me jealous.
I dare the worst of fate. Be he an actor
In my pursute, I'le venture all at once.
I have lost a Gentlewoman, and doubt her safety:
If any chance hath guided you to find her,
Doe not delay my satisfaction.
Keep.
I joy that chance made me the instrument
Of such a good. Please you to follow me.
I'le guid you to this pensive one, that grieves
More your fear'd losse then her owne misery.
She nam'd you oft; when (by her fit transported)
Surpriz'd by some that meant her injurie.
Worth.
Shall I give faith? my resolution's mad;
Yet it shall trye th'event. Despaire may bring
A good successe to an indifferent thing.
Exeunt.
| Totenham Covrt | |