 | The Hogge hath Lost his Pearle |  |
Actus Secundus.
Enter Hogge the Usurer, with Peter seruitude trussing his points.Ho.
What hath not my young lord Wealthy been here this
morning?
Pe.
No in very deed sir, is a towardly young gentleman,
shall a haue my young Mistris, your daughter, I pray you sir?
Ho.
I that a shall Peter, she cannot be matched to greater
honour and riches in all this Country; yet the peeuish girle
makes coy of it, she had rather affect a Prodigall, as there was
Hadit, one that by this time cannot be otherwise then hang'd,
or in some worse estate, yet shee would haue had him, but I
prayse my starres shee went without him though, I did not
without 's lands 'twas a rare mortgage Peter?
Pe.
As ere came in parchment, but see, here comes my young lord.
Enter young L. Wealthy.
We.
Morrow father Hogge, I come to tel you strange newes,
my sister is stolne away to night, tis thought by Nigromancy,
what Nigromancy is, I leaue to the readers of the scauen champions
of chistendome.
But is it possible your sister should be stolne, sure some
of the houshold seruants were confederates in't.
Wel.
Faith, I thinke they would haue confest then, for I am
sure my lord and father hath put them all to the bastinado twice
this morning already, not a wayting-woman but has been
stowed ifaith.
Pe.
Trust me a sayes wel for the most part.
Ho.
Then my lord your father is farre impatient.
We.
Impatient, I ha seene the picture of Hector in a Haberdashers
shop, not looke halfe so furious, he appeares more terrible
then wilde fire at a play. But father Hogge, when is the
time your daughter and I shall to this wedlock druggery.
Ho.
Troth my lord when you please, shee's at your disposure,
and I rest much thankfull that your Lordship will so highly
honour me, she shal haue a good portion my lord, though nothing
in respect of your large reuenues; call her in Peter, tel her
my most respected lord Welthies here, to whose presence I will
now commit her, and I pray you my Lord, prosecute the gaine
of her affectation with the best affecting words you may, and
so I bid good morrow to your lordship
We.
Moreouer, father Hogge, to prosecute the gaine of her
affectation with the best affecting words, as I am a Lord, a most
rare phrase: well I perceiue age is not altogether ignorant,
though many an old Iustice is so.
How now Peter is thy young mistris vp yet?
Pe.
Yes indeed shee's an early stirrer, and I doubt not hereafter,
but that your lordship may say shee 's abroad before you
can rise.
We.
Faith and so she may, for tis long ere I can get vp when
I goe foxt to bed; but Peter has she no other suters besides my
selfe.
Pe.
No and it like your lordship, nor is fit she should.
We.
Not fit she should, I tell thee Peter, I would giue away
as much as some Knights are worth, and that's not much, only
to wipe the noses of some dozen or two of Gallants, and to see
how pittifully those percels of mans flesh would looke when I
had caught the bird, which they had beaten the bush for.
Pe.
Indeed your lordships conquest would haue seem'd
the greater.
Foot, as I am a Lo. it angers me to the guts, that no body
hath been about her.
Pe.
For any thing I know, your lordship may goe without
her.
We.
An I could haue inioin'd her to some pale fac't louers
distraction, or beene enuied for my happinesse, it had beene
somewhat.
Enter Rebecka Hogs daughter.
But see where shee comes, I knewe she had not power enough
to stay another sending, for ô lords! what are we? our very
names enforce beauty to fly, being sent for aside.
Re.
I rather should enquire your lordships health, seeing
you vp at such an early hower: was it the tooth-ake, or else
fleas disturb'd you?
We.
Dee ye think I am subiect to such common infirmities?
nay, were I diseas'd I'de scorne but to be diseas'd like a lord
ifaith: but I can tell you newes, your fellow virgin-hole player,
my sister is stolne away to night.
Re.
Intruth I am glad on't shee's now free from the iealous
eye of a father; do not yee suspect, my lord, who it should be
that hath carried her away?
We.
No, nor care nor, as she brewes, so let her bake, so sayd
the auntient prouerbe, but lady mine that shalbe, your father
hath wisht me to appoint the day with you.
Re.
What day my lord?
We.
Why of mariage, as the learned Historiographer writes
hymens hollidaies, or nuptial Ceremonious rites.
Re.
Why, when would you appoint that my lord?
We.
Why let me see, I thinke the Taylor may dispatch all
our vestures in a weeke: therefore, it shall be directly this day
sennight.
Pe.
God giue you ioy.
Re.
Of what I pray you impudence, this fellow wil go neere
to take his oath that he hath seene vs plighted faiths together,
my father keeps him for no other cause, then to outsweare the
truth My lord not to hold you any longer in a fooles paradice,
nor to blind you with the hopes I neuer intend to accomplish,
We.
How, not loue a lord; ô indiscreete young woman!
Indeed your father told me how vnripe I should finde you: but
al's, one vnripe fruit will aske more shaking before they fall,
then those that are, and my conquest will seeme the greater
still.
Pe.
Afore god is a most vnanswerable lord, and holds her
toot ifaith.
We.
Nay ye could not a pleas'd me better, then seeing you so
inuincible, and such a difficult attaining to, I would not giue a
pin for the society of a female that should seeme willing, but
giue me a wench that hath disdainefull lookes:
When proferred seruice doth allay delight.
Re.
The fooles well read in vice, my lord, I hope you hereafter
will no further insinuate in the course of your affections,
and for the better withdrawing from them, you may please to
know, I haue irreuocably decreed neuer to marry.
We.
Neuer to marry, Peter I pray beare witnes of her words
that when I haue attain'd her, it may adde to my fame and conquest.
Pe.
Yes indeed an 't like your lordship.
We.
Nay, ye must think Becke I know how to woe, ye shall
finde no bashfull vniuersity man of me,
Re.
Indeed I thinke y'ad nere that bringing vp, did you euer
study my lord?
We.
Yes faith that I haue, and the last week too, three dayes
and a night together.
Re.
About what I pray?
We.
Onely to finde out, why a woman going on the right
side of her husband the day time, should lie on his left side at
night; and as I am a lord, I neuer knew the meaning on't till
yesterday, Mallapert my fathers Butler being a witty Iackanapes
told me why it was.
Re.
Berlady, my lord, twas a shrewd studdy, and I feare hath
altered the property of your good parts, for ile assure you I
lou'd you a fortnight a goe farre better.
We.
Nay, tis all one whether you doe or no, tis but a little
may doot; I am he, tis true as your father sayd, the blacke Oxe
hath not trode vpon that foote of yours.
Re.
No, but the white Calfe hath, and so I leaue your lordship.
We.
Wel go thy waies, th'art as witty a marmaled eater, as
euer I conuerst with; now, as I am a lord, I loue her better and
better, ile home and Poetise vpon her good parts presently, Peter
heres apreparatiue to my further applications, and Peter
be circumspect in giuing me diligent notice, what sutors seeme
to be pee-ping.
Pe.
Ile warrant you my lord, shee 's your owne, for ile giue
out to all that comes neere her, that shees betrothed to you, and
if the worst come to the worst, Ile sweare it.
We.
Why god-a-mercy, and if euer I do gaine my request,
Thou shalt in brauer cloathes be shortly drest.
Exeunt.
Enter old L. Wealthy solus.
Haue the fates then conspir'd, and quite bereft
My drooping yeeres, of all the blest content
That age partakes of, by the sweet aspect
Of their well nurtur'd issue; whose obedience,
Discreete and duteous haue our, onely lengthens
The thred of age; when on the contrary,
By rude demeanour and their headstrong wils,
That thred's soone rauel'd out: O why Maria
Couldst thou abandon me now at this time,
When my gray head 's declining to the graue!
Could any Masculine flatterer on earth
So far bewitch thee, to forget thy selfe,
As now to leaue me? Did Nature soly giue thee me,
As my chiefe inestimable treasure,
Whereby my age might passe in quiet to rest:
And art thou prov'd to be the only curse,
Which heauen could throw vpon mortality:
Yet ile not curse thee, though I feare the fates
Will on thy head inflict some punishment,
Which I will daily pray they may with-hold;
Extreamest rigor, yet I wish to thee
Content in loue full of tranquility.
Enter young Welthy.
But see where stands my shame, whose indiscretion
Doth seeme to bury all the liuing honours,
Of all our auncestours but tis the fates decree,
That men might know their weake mortality.
We.
Sir, I cannot finde my sister,
Fa.
I know thou canst not, t'were to rare to see
VVisdome found out by ignorance.
We.
How father, is it not possible that wisdome should be
found out by ignorance; I pray then how do many Magnificoes
come by it?
Fa
Not buy it sonne, as you had need to doe,
Yet wealth without that, may liue more content,
Then wits enioyers, can debard of wealth,
All pray for wealth, but I nere hard yet,
Of anie but one, that ere praid for wit,
Hees counted wise enough in these vaine times,
That hath but meanes enough to weare gay clothes,
And be an outside of humanitie; what matters it a pin,
How indiscreet so ere a naturall be,
So that his wealth be great, thats it doth cause
VVisdome in these daies; to giue fooles applause,
And when gay folly speakes, how vaine so ere,
VVisdome must silent sit, and speech forbeare.
We.
Then wisdome will sit as mute as learning among many
Courtiers, but father I partlie suspect that Carracus hath got
my sister.
Fa.
With Childe, I feare ere this.
We.
Berlady and that may be true, but whether a has or no,
its al one, if you please Ile take her from vnder his nose in spight
ons teeth, and aske him no leaue.
Fa.
That were to headstrong, sonne, weele rather leaue them
to the will of heauen.
Be but a gentleman of small reuennews;
Yet he deserues my daughter for his vertues,
From th'affecting of him, I had ere this
Made them both happy by my free consent
VVhich now I wish I had graunted, and still pray
If any haue her, it may be Carracus.
We.
Troth and I wish so too, for in my minde hees a gent. of
a good house, and speakes true lattine,
Fa.
To morrow sonne, you shall ride to his house
And there enquier of your sisters being,
But as you tender me, and your owne good
Vse no rough language sauouring of distast,
Or any vnciuil tearmes.
We.
Why doe ye take me for a mid-wife,
Fa.
But tell young Carracus these words from me,
That if he hath with safegard of her honor,
Espousd my daughter, that I then forgiue
His rash offence, and will accept of him,
In all the fatherly loue, I owe a childe.
We.
I am sure my sister will be glad to heare it, and I cannot
blame her, for sheele then inioy that with quietnesse, which many
a wench in these dayes does scratch for,
Fa.
Come sonne, ile wright to Carracus, that my owne
hand may witnesse, how much I stand affected to his worth.
Exeunt.
Enter Haddid in his gay apparel, making him ready, and with him Lightfoote.
Had.
By this light Coze, this suite does rarely: the taylor
that made it, may happe to be saued, ant be but for his good
workes, I thinke I shall be proud of em, and so I was neuer yet
of any clothes.
Li.
How not of your Clothes, why then you were neuer
proud of any thing, for therein chiefly consisteth pride: for you
neuer saw pride pictured, but in gay attire.
Ha.
True, but in my opinion, pride might as well be portraied
in any other shape, as to seeme to be an affector of gallantry,
being the causes thereof are so seuerall and diuers, as
some are proud of their strength, although that pride cost them
the losse of a limbe or two, by ouer-daring, likewise some are
knockt for being so, some are proud of their drinke, although
that liquid operation, cause them to weare a night-cap 3: weeks
after, some are proud of their good parts, although they neuer
put them to better vses, then the enioying of a common strumpets
company, and are only made proud by the fauor of a waiting
woman, others are proud—
Li.
Nay, I preethee Coze, enough of pride, but when do you
entend to go yonder to Couetousnesse the Vsurer, that we may
see how neere your plot wil take, for the releasing of your mortgag'd
lands.
Ha.
Why now presently, and if I do not accomplish my proiects
to a wished end, I wish my fortunes may be like some scraping
tradesman, that neuer embraceth true pleasure, till he be
threescore and ten.
Li.
But say Hogs daughter, on whom all your hopes depend
by this be betrothed to some other.
Ha.
VVhy say shee were, nay more, maried to another, I
would be neare the further of them effecting of my intents, no
Coze, I partly know her inward disposition, and did I but only
know her to be woman kind, I thinke it were sufficient.
Li.
Sufficient, for what.
Had.
VVhy to obtaine a grount of the best thing shee had,
Chastity, Man tis not here, as tis with you in the Countrey, not
to be had without fathers and mothers good will, no, the City
is a place of more traffique, where each one learnes by example
of their elders, to make the most of their owne, either for profit
or pleasure.
Li.
Tis but your misbeleeuing thoughts, makes your surmise
so, if women were so kind, how haps you had not by their fauors
kept your selfe out of the clawes of pouerty.
Had.
O but Coze, Can a ship saile without water, had I had
but such a suite as this, to set my selfe a floate, I would not haue
fear'd sincking but come, no more of need, now to the Vsurer,
and though all hopes do faile, a man can want no liuing, So long
as sweet desire reignes in women.
Li.
But then your selfe must able be in giuing.
Exeunt.
Conscience thou horror vnto wicked men,
VVhen wilt thou cease thy all afflicted wrath,
And set my soule free from the laborinth
Of thy tormenting terror; O but it fits not,
Should I desire redresse or wish for comfort,
That haue committed an act so in humane,
Able to fill shames spatious Chronicle.
Who but a damn'd one, could haue done like me,
Robd my deere friend, in a short moments time
Of his loues high pri'zd Iem of Chastity:
That which so many yeeres himselfe hath staid for;
How often hath he as he lay in bed,
Sweetly discourss to me of his Maria?
And with what pleasing passions a did suffer
Loues genle war-siege, then he would relate
How he first came vnto her faire eyes view;
How long it was ere shee could brooke affection,
And then how constant shee did still abide:
I then at this would ioy, as if my brest
Had simpathi'zd in equall happinesse;
With my true friend: but now when ioy should be,
VVho but a damn'd one would haue done like me:
He hath been married now at least a moneth:
In all which time I haue not once beheld him; This is his house:
Ile call to know his health, but will not see him,
My lookes would then betray me for should he aske
My cause of seeming sadnesse, or the like;
I could not but reueale, and so pourd on
VVorse vnto id, which breeds confusion.
He knocks, Enter Seruingman.
Ser.
To what intent dee knocke sir.
Al.
Because I would be heard sir, is the Mr. of this house within?
Ser.
Yes marry is a sir, would you speake with him?
Alb.
My businesse is not so troublesome:
Is a in health with his late espoused wife
Ser.
Both are exceeding well sir.
Alb.
Ime truly glad ont, farewel good friend.
I pray you lets craue your name sir, I may els haue anger.
Alb.
You may say, one Albert riding by this way, onely
inquir'd their health.
Ser.
I will acquaint so much.
Exit Ser.
Alb.
How like a poisonous Doctor haue I come,
To enquire their wel-fare, knowing that my selfe
Haue giuen the portion of their nere recouery;
For which I will afflict my selfe with torture euer:
And since the earth yeelds not a remedy,
Able to salue the sores my lust hath made,
Ile now take fare-wel of society,
And th'aboade of men to entertaine a life
Fitting my fellowship, in desart woods;
Where beasts like me consort, there may I liue,
Farre off from wronging vertuous Carracus;
Theres no Maria that shall satisfie
My hatefull lust, the trees shall shelter
This wretched trunke of mine, vpon whose backe.
I will engraue the story of my sinne,
And there this short breath of mortality,
Ile finish vp in that repentant state;
Where not th'allurements of earths vanities
Can ere ore-take me, there's no baites for lust,
No friend to ruine, I shall then be free
From practising the art of treachery;
Thither then steps where such content abides,
Where penitency not disturb'd may greeue,
Where on each tree and springing plant, Ile carue
This heauy motto of my misery.
Who but a damb'd one could haue done like me?
Carracus farewel, if ere thou seest me more,
Shalt finde me curing of a sole-sicke sore.
Exit.
| The Hogge hath Lost his Pearle | |