 | The Bride |  |
The first Act
The first Scene.
Enter Old Goodlove, and Theophilus very sad.Goodlove.
I say, no more of this,
I'le have no brow contracted into wrincles
Upon my wedding day: A day of mirth;
And thou stand'st like a mellancholick figure
Of weeping penitence, when joy should dress
Thy cheekes in dimples; it is prodigious
That thou should'st only
Weare mourning at my nuptials, that have foster'd
Thee from an Infant; bred thee to a man;
Ranckt thee with Gentlemen, and made thee thought
To be what thou appear'st; and thou to grieve
For what I count my happinesse!
The.
Pray' sir conster it
Th'expression of my duty. To your love
Were I possest of many selves I ow them.
That love hath caus'd this passion out of feare
Your reputation in the act will suffer
And if the rude mouthes of the multitude
Catch hold on a report, they'l multiply it;
And make it grow to scandale. You an old man
Will marry a young woman.
Good.
Who cals me old! Dost thou? Now by my beard
(Is't not turn'd black agen? I should be loath
To sweare by a false coluor) I am young,
Like a new spring grown out of a barren winter.
I' ave likewise strength and activenesse: looke here else.
seemes to eaper and hurt his foot.
Beshrew't, the floor's uneven: would 'twere mended
I'le have my cornes cut too. Childe we must dance
Alwayes at weddings. Am I agen a Bridegrome!
And shall I not be lusty?
The.
Pray Sir, do not
Flatter your weaknesse, and decay of strength.
Your age begins to grow to a disease:
And can you then expresse such youthfull appetite
Without being censur'd?
Good.
Pray no more diswasion
Besides my will there is a reason for it:
And thou hast cause to joy, Shee brings a portion
Will be a large addition to thy state,
Which I but live t'encrease. I have no heire
Save thee? nor will get any: shalt have all.
The.
Your welfare sir to me
Is an inheritance 'bove any state
Fortune can blesse me with. Which to preserve
My knees should grow fast to some hallowed pavement,
Till mine own dissolution, and no thoughts
Busie my minde but prayers. Sir consider
The difference 'twixt your disabilite,
And her so hopefull fruitfullnesse. T'increase
And propagate was the best end of marriage.
Then if the meanes be wanting, the end cannot
Be perfected: and some in scruple stick not
To call it sinne.
Good.
More urging! when I am dead.
The.
Why that would make even your ashes infamous.
And tempt the idle gazers on't to scratch
Libells upon your Marble. 'Twould be construed
That shee in youthfull heat longing for what
Your cold defects deni'd her, had enjoyd me
To lustfull satisfaction, when she should
Have warm'd your bed, and after married me
To prevent farther rumor. Nay sir more.
Hath she not setled her desire already
Upon some one of more proportion'd yeares?
'Twere rare if such a beauty of that growth,
Should have her mayden thoughts untoucht with th'appetite
Of what instinct doth teach, though she were barr'd
Even all converse, so much as not to know
The difference of a sex.
Good.
A causles jelousy
Shee's noted to have more perfections
Lodg'd in her rich minde, then the outward structure
Though beautifull doth promise: she inherits
Her Parents vertues, and her education
Hath been their only care. I know shee's free
From the lest thought may stayne her purity.
Therefore no more.
The second Scene.
To them Raven, and a little after him Mounsieur Kickshaw.Is my Bride yet come Cosen?
Raw.
Not yet sir. Mounsieur Kickshaw the French Cook's
come to prepare dinner.
Good.
Hee's welcome; let me see him
I'le have the feast season'd with all variety
Of choice delights.
The.
To me they will not relish;
But like those pills which an unwilling patient
Into a worse disease.
Good.
Mounsieur you are welcome.
Kick.
Me tank you Mounsieur.
Good.
I presume you'l shew your best cunning.
Kick.
Me make you de French dish; de pulpatone; de frigasie;
de gran Kickeshaw an de kickeshaw royall; de macarrone:
and two tree dozen ting more for your wedding.
Good.
Pray Cosin take him first into the cellar.
Kick.
Remerce Mounsieur. Me drinke two tree cup a your
Claret a your vite vine sall make a me lusty.
Good.
I shall thankfully consider your paines.
Kick.
Mounsieur ven a me vark is done, you give a me leave
to dance two tree foure dance, an kisse a de vench two tree foure
time. Oh de French man love a de fine vench vary well. You
be de old man Mounsieur, and you love a de young venche
me make your de dish sall get sis Childe.
Good.
Too many on conscience.
Kick.
If de Madame love me, me get twenty.
Good.
To your businesse good Mounsieur.
Kick.
Dat be good businesse, better den go to my vark.
Exit.
The.
Observe you sir this fellow! one that ought
To be kickt into manners how he taunts you?
'Twill be the streets discourse, the conduits lecture:
And not an idle tongue but will abuse.
Your reverend name, which hitherto hath aw'd
Th'unbridled rabble.
Good.
Once more I command thee
Leave off this counsaile, growing but from feare,
That will admit no reason. Cosin Raven
Hasten my Bride: shee makes my patience tyre
With so much expection. And harke you cosin.
Whisper.
Theo.
My sun of joy's ecclipst, and all the hopes
My fancy painted, by this accident
Are blotted out. How have I merited
Of heaven thus to be punisht! But I must not
Tax providence with an injustice to me,
That have deserv'd worse curses for neglect
My foster Father to possesse those sweets
Love promis'd my inheritance! Wer't another,
I'd from his rude hands snatch her in the Church,
Before the powerfull words should knit that knot
Nothing but death dissolves.
The third Scene.
To them Maligo and Rhenish.Good.
Senior Maligo a most welcome guest.
Mal.
Your Servant Senior.
Good.
And Mr. Rhenish.
Rav.
The Spanish and Dutch Merchants! send there be no wars
at the wedding.
Rhen.
Wee come to witnesse your solemnityes.
Good.
Welcome Mr. Rhenish: and since you are come so early
lets spend the time in conference about the wines we lately
spake of.
Exeunt. Theo and Raven remayning.
Rav.
Cousin y'are sad. Would I might know the reason,
I'le helpe to put it from you.
The.
Cousin Raven,
Since love, not blood, hath made you weare that title,
Though 'tis a secret I would gladly hide,
To you I will impart it. Sent with gifts
To the faire maid that this day must be Bride
To the old man, my treacherous eyes conveigh'd
Flames to my heart from hers: which being fixt
Upon me, shot their magick influence
Of love with such a violence, that I tooke
Th'impression e're my bosome was prepar'd
And temper'd for it.
Rav.
This may be a ground
For me to work on.
The.
Duty now and honesty
To their unwilling prison: though her eye,
Look, gesture; and at parting when I tooke
Her hand to kisse it: then she held mine hard:
For all these invitations to their liberty
I durst not free them; but conceal'd even that
Perhaps she wisht to know.
Rav.
How can you doubt it?
They were all signalls that you should assault,
And shee would yeeld 'Tis but a modest custom
For men to wooe. 'Tis womens only pride
To have men court them, not to be deny'd.
Indeed it was your fault.
The.
My vertue rather.
Should I like the ingratefull serpent, sting
The bosome that hath warm'd me into life?
Desire shall burst me first. Yet I must tell you,
I am resolv'd to give my passions
This satisfaction. When the bridall ceremonies
Have had their consummation, I will travaile
And leave the cause behind. You may reveale it
When I am gone. I shall be prais'd or pittied,
For none can blame me.
Rav.
None! Yes all that heare it.
Who will not tax your indiscretion,
And want of knowing what belongs to man,
That will deny your selfe that right, perhaps
None but your selfe can challenge. we are warranted
To be indulgent to our selves so farre
As worke our own contents by any meanes
Conscience or law calls just. Then if the time
Prevent it not, try your successe: be suddain:
Steale her away and marry her.
The.
Tempt me not
Out of my passion into one more dangerous.
'Twere but a just correction if I kild thee;
That would instruct me to an act of error,
Repentance could scarce win a pardon for.
My counsail's worth a better fee. Perhaps
You feare some trechery in me. Clere your understanding,
I'le prove you ought to do it, and I to ayde you.
You are his foster sonne, and I his kinsman.
You he intends his heire, and yet he must not
Neglect me altogether. When they are married
Sshe'l find one to get Children.
The.
Thou art base
In thy suspect of her; and but for peace
(To which this day ought to be consecrate)
It should be punish't.
Rav.
Y'are too violent.
Be calme, and understand demonstrative reason,
Children being borne, then are you disinherited.
When marrying her ther's an estate will follow
Worth thousands: For shee is the only child
Her parents ever had.
The.
And why should you
Advise to this, and ayde it?
Rav.
What more police
Could I be guilty of? When his displeasure
Hath cast you of (for that way sure hee'l punish
The injury) stand not I faire to be
Possest of what you loose, the old mans favor?
Were you the only object of my hate,
The good I do my self would make the act
Shew of sufficient malice: but my love
Guiding me to't—
The fourth Scene.
To them Goodlove, Maligo and Rhenish: and a little after them Justice Ferret and his wife.The.
'Tis well I am prevented;
My rashnesse else had executed justice
Thy friendship's but the shaddow of a true one
Dar'st urge such counsail, goodnesse cannot choose but blush at.
Rav.
Howsoever you receive it
I will attempt it. I'le prepare the Bride
With this discovery: if she hath desires
Shee'l some way give them liberty. The old man
I then will prepossesse with jelousy;
And so indeere me to him, that my ends
Stand alwayes faire in their opinions.
A cunning villaine must pretend to save.
When most of all he doth intend a grave
Exit.
Good.
I like the rates: may the wines please as well
I'le not repent my bargaine.
Mal.
Trust me sir you have the best sack of Spaine.
Rhen.
And Rhenish the swan hath none better: yet ther's that
will make the crookedst horner in the lane speake latin with the
Bedle of Vintiners hall.
Good.
Mr. Justice Ferret,
This was a large expression of your love
To come over the water.
Fer.
'Twas my wives desire.
Good.
Kinde Mistresse Ferret.
M. Fe.
Sir, the respects I beare you, and the obedience I owe
my husband that commanded it, brought me over willingly to
offer my service to so noble a freind.
Good.
Your courtesies overcome me.
M. Fe.
A rot on the best linings of your three pil'd durable,
your everlasting almanack of high dayes, feastes and sessions:
was it my desire? Thou lyest thou wrong side of a lawyer turn'd
outwards: I had better businesse at home. I could have seen
if mother Whirl had spun the last pound of flax I sent her, or
called at Knocks the weavers for my new Napkins. I have no
maides to cudgell their tasks out of. Indeed I can hardly keepe
any for such a goat as thou art.
Good.
Are ye offended with your husband Mrs. Ferret?
M. Fer.
Obedience forbid it; my head; or if I may use the
honorable phrase here without offence, my cap of maintenance.
No no sir; shee was but excusing a few faults.
M. Fer.
How fir lubber, must the world take notice by you
that I have faults or modesty to excuse them? I'le make thee complain
a moneth of the fairies for this: the fairies of my nayles I
meane; and pretend pinching for pissing in thy shooes, or such
night uncleanesse.
Fer.
Sweet wife forbear a little. Thou wilt vex away thy eating
stomack, and here will be excellent cheer.
M. Fer.
So, so: I thought a Citty feast with a Ram-mutton
pasty, and a twelve nookt custard, made with carryers eggs and
the out scrapings of isinglas, must tempt you to the charge of six
pence over, and six pence back agen. Which with an addition of
Clerks fees shar'd, and some garrison'd westphalian neates
tongue or red deer pye out of my Chamber cupbord, might have
been an intertainment for the Masters of the Parish in your own
dyning roome, and all have been payd for too with the return
of half emptyed botles.
Good.
Your wife Mr. Ferret hath call'd something to mind deserves
a chiding.
Fer.
Fye no sir: Shee is somewhat shrewish at home, but the
best wife abroad—
M. Fer.
Fy, sweet heart now you flatter. 'Tis virtue enough in
us to be obedient and dutyfull: we should lay our selves under
our husbands feet if they command it. But i'le exalt my self or
somewhat else above your head, you malkin of suburb authority
set up only to fright crows from the carrion of the common
wealth, that it may ly still and corrupt government. Your worship
had best bind my tongue to the peace, my nayles should
soone bayle it.
Soft Musick.
The fifth Scene
To them Father, Mother, Raven, Bride, and maides attending her.Good.
My Bride come?
The welcom'st guest that ever blest this roof.
Fat.
Joy Crown yee both.
May your wish be prophetick.
But why is she so sad?
Moth.
'Tis onely custome.
Maides have their feares which by degrees must leave them.
M. Fe.
May shee make him a happy wife; and prove obedient
from my example.
Good.
Salute my Bride sonne: shee should be thy joy
As well as mine.
The.
I better shall expresse
Her entertainment in my pious wishes,
Then any complement I will be ready
To pay you my best duty.
Goodlove and Raven whisper.
Bride,
Love you meane sir;
Give it no other name, might I own that
And call it my possession, soone this melancholy
Should leave it's mansion, and a Brides full joy
Inhabit here. You surely do repine;
And it may be this act begets your feare
Of being dispossest a fathers love.
Which he must now in some proportion
Confer on me.
The.
Let me with reverence sweare
Offers to kisse her hand
By this white hand—
Bride,
Let me prevent your oath;
Or sweare by another book. Perhaps 'twill be
The last warme kisse my lips shall ever feel.
kisse.
I do beleeve you love me.
weeps.
The.
How shall I
Interpret this? how hard she claspt my hand,
And prest my lips? as wishing their conjunction
Might be eternall. Teares with her last words fell:
And in their silent oratory taught me
To know my selfe more wretched by the knowledge
Of what should make me happy.
Good.
Can this be?
Rav.
It hath both possibility and circumstance
To make it probable. Good sir observe
Their discontents: how they do sympathize,
An oportunity; Ile be the spy:
And cal you to their billing.
Good.
'Tis well counsail'd
If 't please you Gentlemen I have within
Some rarities, whose fight shall be your businesse
'Till we are ready. Sweet you shall forbeare them
'Till you are made their Mistresse.
Exeunt.
Rav.
Whether will you go?
Theo. offers to follow.
Wast not my plot to get this liberty
That you might put your purpose into act
If you have any? Why do you delay it?
You see shee's willing; I prepar'd her to it.
The.
Willing to what good Cousin?
Rav.
To be your Bride.
Bride.
My blushes speak consent: then if you please
Prevent prevention. My desires were never
Setled on any other, though I durst not
Reveale my passions aw'd by feminine custome,
And my strict parents eyes. If you'l receive me,
The desperate state of my crosse fortune armes me
To any enterprise you'l be my guide in
The.
I shall be tempted to neglect that duty
I would not rashly violate, to possesse
All that my wish can covet.
Rav.
You may hereafter
Discourse your loves. Play not away th'occasion.
Her's the key of the back gate: take water presently, and away
to the—whispers—I'le follow, get ye a Licence and see
all dispacht, Feare not persuit: that I'le hinder.
So, the foundations layd on which I'le bulid
My selfe a fortune, and with better safety
Then making him away: Yet he must not marry her.
That were t'enable him if my villany
Should be discovered to revenge and punish it.
The sixth Scene.
To him Goodlove, Father, Mother, Ferret, Mr s. Ferret, Maligo, and Rhenish.The old man! aide me now hypocrisie,
Or all miscarries. Oh sir I have search't for you all the house over.
Good.
Hast observ'd any thing?
Rav.
I left them here so close condoling. They are questionles
stolne to some private place. I'le sent them out, and bring you
word.
For this faire entrance doth discover me.
Exit.
Good.
Father in expectation I have suddainly
Bethought me of a businesse.
Fat.
Pray' what is't?
Good.
You see I am old; unfit for such a Bride.
Suppose I make a resignation,
And give my right up to another man,
One that your daughter and your self should like of.
What if my son were Bridegroom? 'twere a match
Would carry more proportion.
Fat.
None more gladly,
So you'l confer upon him an estate
Answering her portion.
Good.
It shall be considered of.
Wee'l know their likings.
Fer.
Will you not Marry her your self then after all these preparations?
Why sir the world takes notice of it, and it may concern
your credit.
Good.
Your husband counsailes well M
r
s. Ferret.
M. Fe.
I cannot in obedience but allow of his wisdom. Thou
changling nurst with the milke of an asse whence thou derivest
thy great empty noddle: must you hinder a good motion? Are
there not cuckolds enough already?
Good.
Wher's the Bride Cousin?
Raven returns.
Vanish't sir, not to be found. They are questionlesse
run away together: the water gate is fast lockt, and the key
without. You were doubtfull sir, and would hardly give credit
to my relation.
Fat.
How! stolne away together! what plots are these?
Good.
Yours sir, to undoe the reputation
Of an old man.
Fat.
Rather your own, to ruine?
My only comfort.
Fer.
Proceed you sir in your late motion and this difference
will soone find a reconciliation. Is not the Gentleman his only
son.
Good.
No sonne of mine, but the most monstrous birth
Of base ingratitude that ever made
Charity frozen. I found him in the fields,
An Infant almost starv'd, and bred him up.
It seems for this.
Moth.
Alasse our child's undone.
Fat.
Pursue the villaine. If the extremity
Of Law can do it, I will hang him for't.
Rav.
I should be glad of that.
Fat.
If I can prove sir your least knowledge makes you
A party in't, your state or mine shall crack for't.
Good.
Do you sir threaten me in mine own house.?
My credit's more at stake, then that I should
Be calme: but once I give you priviledge.
Fat.
Come lets' to water: we perhaps may take them.
Rav.
Yes at the Tower questionlesse.
Exeunt. Father and Mother.
Fer.
Sir if I find them in my precinct.
M. Fer.
What will you do? If thou dost the least wrong to
the loving couple, though I burn for it, I will roast thee alive and
sell thy greasie kidnies for kitchinstuffe.
Kickshaw enters with plate under his cloake.
Rav.
A good proceeding hitherto.
Kick
No vench, no veding? Me bid you adiew Mounsieur;
you no need a me varke.
Good.
Farewell Mounsieur. Reward him Cosin.
Kick.
Here be revard: two, tree silver dish, and tree, foure
spoone make Mounsieur a jentleman an buy de fine vench beyond
Exit.
Good.
Ha hah hah he.
Laughs.
Mal.
Why laugh you sir? make you no more account of so
great an injurie?
Good.
They'r gone: and now I'le tell ye gentlemen,
I knew the boy did love her, and I meant
He only should enjoy her; but pretended
My self would marry her, thereby to worke
A greater portion out of her covetous Father;
And to insinuate my selfe into
A perfect knowledge of his true estate.
Now since h' hath play'd the wagge, preventing me
Of mine own plot, you all shall in and witnesse
My act of love to him: I'le instantly
Confirm him my full heire, reserving something
For you my kinsman: whom I desire
Use your best diligence to finde them out,
And bring them home, but coupled. And you gentlemen
Dispense with this dayes accident, your cheer
To morrow shall be doubled.
Exeunt.
Rav.
How is this?
My plot's prevented too; curse on the charme
That witcheth you to love him. Bring them home,
But coupled: fine employment. Yet 'tis well
You tell me your intent. My brain must work
Some more succesfull mischiefe that may hit.
No villaine can prosper without wit.
Exit.
| The Bride | |