 | Lady alimony |  |
Act. 2.
Scen. 1.
Enter two Boyes.1. Boy.
Room, room for the Ladies of the New dress.
2. Boy.
Thou stiles them rightly Tim; for they
have plaid the snakes, and put off their old
slough: New Broom sweeps clean: Frosty age
and youth suit not well together. These Bonaroba's must
sate their appetites with fresh Cates, or their sharp attractive
stomacks will be quickly cloy'd.
1. Boy.
True Nick; hadst thou known their nightly
quartring as well as I have done, thou wouldst hold them
rare Coyducks for retreving new game: and storing their
Lobbies upon all adventures.
Why, Tim, art thou one of that Covy?
1. Boy.
Let it suffice thee, Wag, I know all their Fagaries
to an hair. I have not plaid such a Truant in my place;
as to become their Pe De during all the time of their restraint:
and not to attain the Principles of a Puny-Bolt:
a faithful secret Pimp deserves his constant pay.
2. Boy.
But in good sadness resolve me, were these
dainty Dabrides ever in restraint?
1. Boy.
As close coupt up, believe it, as any Parachito's
ever were: onely they assum'd to their pretended aggrievances
to exclaim against their hard fortunes, in being
marcht with such impotent and defective Husbands. And
now they have by long flickring and strong favourites got
out oth' Cage: and wrought themselves into Alimony.
2. Boy.
Uds so, will their dainty fingers tug in Alume
work?
1. Boy.
What an ignorant Puppy thou art? This is no
Alume work, but such a calcinated Mettal, as it will run
like Quicksilver over all their Husbands Demains: and in
very short time make a quick dispatch of all his Long acre.
2. Boy.
Trust me Tim, these be mad-mettal'd Girles:
brave Braches to breed on.
1. Boy.
What a wanton Monkey is this?—Hee's but
newly bred, and he can talk of Wenches breeding!—well,
thou wilt grow a Cock of th'game, if thy pen feathred
youth mount to't:—But silence, Wag, the She-Myrmidons
are entering the stage: and I am prickt out for the
Chorus.
Scen. 2.
Enter six Ladies fantastically habited; in a wanton and pleasant posture: passing over the stage, they are encountred by six amorous complemental Servants. Every one singling forth his Mistress, for discourse.2. Boy.
What humerous Tomboys be these?
1. Boy.
The onely gallant Messalinas of our age. That
Love-spotted Ermin, is Madam Fricase, a woman of a
rampant spirit; a confident pretender to Language: and
for the Latine, she makes her self as familiar with the
2. Boy.
Who is she that looks like a mouted Scale-drake?
1. Boy.
That spit-fire is Madam Caveare, one whose
assiduate trading brought age upon her before her time.
But Art has taught her to supply furrowed Deformities
with Ceruss Boxes: and to repair a decay'd Complexion
with an Italian fucus. This with other fomentations have
so enlivened her, as they render her no less active then if she
at last Grass had but casten her Colts tooth. The next in
rank is that mincing Madam Julippe, who would not
bear a Childe for a world (though her endeavours be
pregnant enough) for fear she should dis-feature the comeliness
of her body.
2. Boy.
Yet shee's a Medler.
1. Boy.
A mellow one, and as ready to fall in Autumn
upon all occasions.
2. Boy.
What may that gaudy gugay Lady be, that
throws such scornful looks upon our Galleries?
1. Boy.
That's a brave Martial Millanoise: Semiramis never
had a more imperious spirit: she styles her self Madam
Jocolette; a jocund Girle on my word: and one that
will not ingage her honour, nor barter in a light Commodity
for nothing. She was a Tyrewoman at first in the
Suburbs of Millan: but falling into an ebb of fortune,
and hearing the quaint and various fancies of our Countrey
Damasella's; she took upon her this adventure to improve
her annual pension. Which she has by the dexterity
of her wit and incomparable curiosity of art highly enlarg'd,
and by this unexpected means: for it hapned, to
give an addition to her future happiness, that one Sir
Gregory Shapeless, a Mundungo's Monopolist,
a paltry-penurious-pecking pinchgut, who had smook'd
himself into a Mercenary title of Knightship, set his affection
upon her soon after her arrival here; whom thou
may imagine, Nick; to be no sooner woo'd then won.
But scarcely were their marriage sheets warm; till her dissembled
fancy, having no other bait but Lucre to feed it,
Crest-faln: more in love with the World then his Italian
Doxy. A divorce she sues and so happily pursues: as by
the sollicitancy of her private Ingles, she became whole
sharer in his trucking fortunes. Since which time, she pastures
freely upon the Common without fear of Inclosure.
2. Boy.
Why should she not? A barren ranging Doe
having once leapt over her own Pale, may incroach, though
not with security, upon any others Liberty.
1. Boy.
That next her in rank and as right as my leg in
her career, is Madam Medler, a cunning Civil Trader:
who with much simpring secrecy, as one that would seem
sparing in discovery of her Husbands Debility; calls her
Sir Tristram Shorttool a good well-meaning
man, and one that might content any woman under the
Æquinoctial Line, if Nature had measur'd him right.
Whereas his sufficiency has been elsewhere tried: which
his many Branches sprung from other stocks, may sufficiently
witness; being Ciens of his own inoculating, and
at his own proper charge for breeding. As for that Lady
with the inflam'd face, Madam Tinder; her desires are
so strong and inlarg'd; as that Torrid Zone where she
sometimes planted, could not accomodate her supplies.
—And let this serve thee, Nick, for a short Character of
these Alimonial Ladies.
2. Boy.
Those Platonick Servants of theirs are upon a
strong debate with their amorous Mistresses.
1. Boy.
But note my precious Wagge, how infinitely
they seem tickeld with the Accounts which those Ladies
return them of their Court-proceedings.
3. Scean.
Florello.You over-glad me Madam Fricace
with your select discourse, closing so fairly
with our expected wishes.
Caranto.
No conceit
Struck more on fancy then the tale you told me;
'Tis so attractive, Madam Caveare,
And forms an Embrio in the phantasy
By Loves mysterious Spell: may Ida's Court
Ne're see Caranto exercise his Revells
If he neglect those ceremonial rites
Which Love and Duty have oblig'd him to.
“May all the Orbs make Musick in their Motion
And smile on our enjoyment.
Palisado.
Fair Julippe,
Your choice has crown'd me; Nor shall track of time
Raze out that Impreze with your free assent
Has here ingraven: Palisado's zeal
Shall merit your affection, if endeavours
May mount to such a pitch, as they may cheer
My hopes in retribution: Secrecy
Or what may most suit with a Ladies honour
Shall in this breast keep constant Century.
Salibrand.
If Salibrand fall short, may he be forc'd
To sue his own Divorce.—Dear Joculette
May your estrangement from a loathed Bed
Compleat your choice with a delightful change.
Morisco.
Balls, Treats, Reer-Banquets, Theatral Receipts
To solace tedious hours, shall entertain
My mellow Medler: and when Evning pleasure
Shall with inlivening vigour summon more
Duly-reserved Offices; which Love
In her arrival, her desir'd repose,
Shall pay his loyal tribute; onely due
To Crowns and Nuptial Rites: or as pure times
Make these divisions legal, to supply
Defects by abler Farmers: which defrai'd
Proves man to be himself: Ile vow no more,
Onely give leave to your devoted servant
Whose purest victim is a constant heart
To make this tender good:—Before I fail
In acting your content, may youthful heat
Disclaim its interest in me: and this spirit
Active and spritely lose his native strength,
To Opick powder, juyce of Cucumber,
Or what may shew most chillness in the blood.
Tilly-vally.
Like brave Platonick you profess much love,
Which you ennamle with gilt promises,
But my affection's conscious of no guilt
Nor a rhetorick tincture: Some can speak,
And call the heavens to record, when their fancy
Meer Planet-struck, has fixt their influence
On various Objects:—this deludes poor Wenches,
And makes them melt like Cerusse:—Heav'ns forgive them,
I'm none of that light Leven: nor Florello,
Caranto, Palisado, Salibrand,
Nor you Morisco: moments of delight
May prompt unmannag'd youth to damn'd protests
And vows which they intend not: whereas, Madams,
Your choice has made you happy in your change.
This shall my dear affianc'd Tinder finde
In her Embraces; and in those conclude
Stoln waters be the sweetest.
All.
Excellent;
Thou shalt be styl'd th'Platonick Pithias.
Fricase.
Our faith is not confirm'd by Oratory,
If Man, he cannot falsifie his trust
In offices of love: we leave our own
For your injoyment; were there piety
In making Love the Anvil of your treason?
No, no; we shall not entertain a thought
That may suggest suspicion: nor retain
In our late widdow'd breasts a crime so foul
As Jealousie: let our Cornuto's harbour
That marrow-eating Fury.—Dear Florello,
Hold my exchanged Love compleat in thee.
Caveare.
Hold same opinion of thy Caveare,
My best Caranto.
Julippe.
Treasure like esteem
In thy Julippees choice, brave Palisado.
Joculette.
In Joculette, active Salibrand.
Thy spriteliest Revels may they be reserv'd
For thy endeered Medler, my Morisco.
Tinder.
So may thy hopes be crowned in thy Tinder,
My valiant Tilly: and rest thus resolv'd,
That th'tender tinder of my tride affection
Shall ne're obscure its lustre, if neglect
Extinguish not that heat.
Tilly.
May th'Frigid Zone
Sooner contract my sinews.
Morisco.
And Loves Grove
Become an Hermits Cell.
Sal.
And our Revels
A sullen Stoick Dream.
Palisado.
And this exchange
A period to our joys.
Caranto.
And our protests
Affrighting shadows.
Florello.
Or what's worst of all,
May those Contents which you expect from us
Discover our defects: and make you wish
Your Nuptial Beds untoucht.
All.
May all these fall
And crush us with their grandeur.
Ladies.
Be it so.
And if our levity disvalue vows,
Or what may most oblige us; may like censure
Impeach our perish'd honours.
They retire.
1. Boy.
—So, the match
Is clapt already up: they need no witness.
2. Boy.
Trust me, they couple handsomly, as if they had
been married after th'New fashion.
1. Boy.
These need no dispensation: Fancy can act it
without more adoe.
2. Boy.
But what shuffling would there be, if any of
these wanton Gossips should cry out before their time?
1. Boy.
That cry, my dainty Wag, would be soon stifled.
There be many wayes, as I have heard my old Granham
Lemman, to impregnate a Birth, and by secret applications,
apozems and cordials, not onely to facilitate but expedite
their production.
2. Boy.
And what of all this?
1. Boy.
Why then Tim, the onely safe way for these
gamesom Maquerella's is, to antidate their Conception
before their separation: This has been an approved Receipt;
and upon a long consult, found so and return'd
authentick: Joy or Grief produce wondrous effects in
humerous Ladies.
2. Boy.
Thou art a cunning sifting Ningle for all rogueries.
4. Scean.
Enter again the Ladies with their Platonick Confidents.1. Boy.
What! so soon return'd; upon my life there's
some amorous design on foot either in displaying of the
weakness of those Rams-heads whom they have deserted:
or some Pasquil of light mirth, to ingratiate their late entertained
Servants.
2. Boy.
No Drollery for love sake:
“Facetious fancies are the least profane.
1. Boy.
That's a precious strain of modesty, Nick, make
much on't:
Florello.
Dear Madam Fricase, present those Sceans,
Those love-attractive Sceans, your Noble self
With these long injured Ladies tendred
To your Prudential Senat.
Fricase.
Sure Florello
You much mistake them; can you call them Sceans
Which just complaints exhibit? true, they might,
They might have prov'd to us and to our honours
That lay at stake, and by spectators thought
Highly engag'd, nay desperately expos'd
To a Judicial sentence: a Decree
Of fatal consequence.
Caranto.
But pregnant wits
Calm'd an approaching storm.
Palisado.
Nay, made you gracious
Before those rigid Consuls.
Sal.
For my part,
I never knew a good face spoil a cause
Though th'Bench were ne're so gravely antient:
Nor ripe in years.
Morisco.
Beauty's a taking bait
Which each fish nibbles at: this Appius felt,
A reverend Sage, whom furrowed brow, loose lip,
Strait line of life, a rough distemper'd cough,
Aged Catarrhs, a shiver'd shell turn'd earth,
where nought appear'd that might partake of man
Save a weak breathing motion: yet could He
Send forth light wandring eyes: and court Virginia
With a dull admiration: so the Bard
Describes his daring-doating appetite,
Which he pursu'd, yet thought none durst discover:
“Appius had silent tongue, but speaking eyes,
“Yet who sayes Appius loves Virginia, lyes.
Tilly.
Not I, I vow: let age attire it self,
And in that garish habit fool his soul
With fruitless wishes: what's all this to me?
Pigmalion may with his incessant vows
Sweetned with fancies incence seek t'enliven
Motionless marble: but such statues render
Icy content: Imagination may
Make th'Image seem a Leda: yet the Swan
Retains her feature and her nature too.
—Let's leave these apprehensions; they suit better
With shady then essentials favourites.
—Good Madams, second our desires; let's hear
How you were dealt withall.
Florello.
Our instancy
Begs so much favour.
Caranto.
It will chear our spirits
In the relation of your fair Proceedings.
Where th'issue crown'd your suit with that success
No Fates seem'd more propitious.
Palisado.
We must hav't;
You know what longing means.
Sal.
Come, who begins?
Ladies.
Stay, Gallants, wing not your too speedy course
With such Pegasian quickness, our consent
Should go along: our interests are concern'd
To perfect your desires.
Florello.
And we presume
Your acquiescence will accomplish it;
Our mutual loves close in that harmony,
That though the ayrs of Musick still admit
Their closure in Divisions, our joynt strings
So sweetly tun'd, may run their Diapason
Without a Discord.
Fricase.
By which sense we gather
That we must prove your Fidlers;
Florello.
You mistake me:
We hold you instruments; your fancies strings
To actuate our motion with that fulness
Arion ne're attain'd too.
Ladies.
We must yeild
Or they will storm us.
Fricase.
Yet let our conditions
Bring them within our lists.—Well, our surprize
Must make you parties ith' discovery.
All.
For Loves sake how?
Fricase.
As thus; we stand at Bar
T'express our grievances: and you must set
Grave Censors or Examinates, to discuss
The weight of our Complaints.
All.
Content; wee'l do't.
Ladies.
But do't exactly, or you spoil the plot.
Caranto.
Slid, doubt not Ladies, we have wit enough
To frame Intergotaries, so you make answer,
And with your quickness do not puzzle us.
All.
Advance, advance, let's mount and play the Consuls.
1. Boy.
How will these dainty Dotrels act their parts?
2. Boy.
Rarely no doubt; their Audience makes them
confident.
Scean. 5.
Florello.Now fair Ladies, what wind has blown you
hither?
Fricase.
The storm of our unsufferable wrongs
Call unto you for Justice.
Caranto.
And your Beauties
Injoyns our just assistance.—Shew your griefs.
1. Boy.
This is a Caranto-man with all my heart! must
Beauty be his Land skip on the seat of Justice?
2. Boy.
Pray thee give them line.
Fricase.
Should I discover my misfortunes, Consuls,
They would enforce compassion even in strangers
Who know not my Extraction.—My descent
Besides the Fortunes I deriv'd from them
Who gave me Being, Breeding, with whats'ere
Might compleat youth, or give imbellishment
To Natures curious workmanship, was known
To shine more graceful in the eye of fame
Then to remain obscure: yet see my fate,
My sad occurring fate!
Florello.
Express it Madam.
Fricase.
I married, Reverend Consul, and in that
Lost both my freedom, fortune and my self.
My former single sweet condition
Cloaths that remembrance in a sable weed,
Resolves mine eyes to Niobees, whose tears
She feigns to weep, in resentment of her former estate.
Might drop to marble, and erect an urn
T'inhume my funeral spousals.
Caranto.
Alas poor Lady.
1. Boy.
Pittiful Senatour, if he have not drunk some
Coffie to keep him waking, he will questionless fall a-sleep
Palisado.
Whence sprung this stream of infelicity,
Resolve us Madam?
Fricase.
From mine hapless match;
A tender stripling, whose unmanly chin
Had ne're known Razor, nor discover'd
A youthful doun: yet his minority
Was by ore-powring friends accounted fit
To match with my maturer growth: But time
Display'd their folly who injoyn'd me to't
And my misfortune most: light was his brain
But weaker far his strength to satisfie
Those lawful Nuptial heats, which breath'd in us
An active fire.—Now I appeal to you
Judicious Consuls;
2. Boy.
Hold there, Madam; under favour, these brave
Senators you appeal to, are more for Execution then
Judgement.
Fricase.
Could the patience
Aside.
Of Grissel, were she living, reap content
In such enjoyments? Could she suffer youth
Quickned with blooming fancy to expire
And quench her heat with such an useless snuff?
Florello.
A match unsufferable.
Caranto.
Opposing Nature.
Palisado.
Nay, what in time would quite depopulate
And make the World a Desert.
Sal.
Higher wrongs
Cannot inflicted be on Woman kinde.
Morisco.
Nor meriting an heavier censure.
Tilly.
Nor,
Aspersing more dishonour on that sex,
That most endeared sex, to which we owe
Our selves and fortunes: for should their choice Beauties
Suffer a pillage by desertless hands,
Forc'd to a loathed Bed, and made a prey
To seered age, or to unripened youth,
How soon might these imparallel'd Deities
And their more graceful posture, which they valu'd
Above their churlish consorts, become strangers
To their due spousal rites: How soon ingage
Their honour to th'Embraces of a Servant
Of brave deportment, spritely eyes, neat limbs,
A virile presence, and a countenance
'Twixt Ajax and Adonis; neither fierce
Nor too effeminate: but mixt 'twixt both,
“Neither too light to scorn, nor stern to loath?
'Twas this brought Troy to ruine: for had Helen
Espous'd where she had lov'd, poor Menelaus
Had ne're been branch'd, nor Troy reduc'd to flames,
Nor Priam and his Hecuba the grounds
Of sad-succeeding stories.
1. Boy.
A gallant Consul, trust me; he has got by heart
the Ballad of the Destruction of Troy to a syllable.
Florello.
Honour'd Colleague
You shew your self both learn'd and eloquent.
Madam, be pleas'd to solace discontent
With a retir'd repose: we have discust
And ballanced the grandeur of your wrongs
In a judicious skale: and shall apply
Proper Receipts to your aggrievances
When we have heard the rest.
1. Boy.
Receipts of their own application, I warrant thee.
Caranto.
Madam Caveare,
You here appear as a Complainant too.
Cave.
And none more justly:—ne're was woman matcht
To such a stupid, sottish animal;
One that's compos'd of Non-sense, and so weak
In Masculine abilities, he ne're read
The Wife of Bathes Tale, nor what thing might please
A woman best:—my Curtain Lectures have
No influence on him.—I must confess
He's simply honest; but what's that to me?
He apprehends not what concerns a woman:
Nor what may suit her quality in state
Caranto.
A most unfitting Husband.
Caveare.
It was my parents caution I remember,
But 'twas not my sad fate t'observe that Lesson,
Never to fix my fancy on a person
Who had no Sage in's pate: lest progeny of fools
Should make my race unhappy: this has made
My thoughts meer strangers to his weak embraces,
Nor shall I e're affect him.
Florello.
Madam, no Law
Would in the Spartan State enjoyn a Lady
So nobly accomplish'd to confine
Her fancy to such fury.
Palisado.
This objection
Admits no long debate.
Sal.
Her rich deserts
Adorn'd with such choice native faculties,
And grac'd with art to make them more compleat,
In humane reason should exempt her youth
From such a servile yoak.
Morisco.
In antient times
When wisdom guarded Senats; a Decree
Confirm'd by publique Vote enacted was,
That none should marry till he had observ'd
Domestick discipline; and first to bear
With a composed garb th'indignities
Of a Zantippe, if his fortune were
To cope with such a fury: and to calm
Her passion with his patience:—now grave Colleigues
What comfort might this injured Lady drain
In these puntileo's which import her state,
From this insensate Sot?
Tilly.
Exchange his Bed
And sue his Patent for the Fatuano:
And to display him to his visitants
In clearer colours; let this Motto be
Ingraven on those walls deep-ach't with time:
“Defective in his Head-piece here he lies,
2. Boy.
So, poor scatter-brain, he has got his judgement
already.
Caranto.
Praxatiles could ne're portray him better,
Nor lodge his sconce more fitly.—You may, Madam,
Conceive how sensibly we feel your wounds,
And with what promptness we shall expedite
your long-expected cure.
Palisado.
Madam Julippe,
You come next in rank; declare your griefs,
And if our judgements hold them meriting
Our just relief, we have compassionate hearts
And powerful hands to vindicate your wrongs
To th'utmost scruple.
Julippe.
If they weigh not heavy
Let me incurre your censure.—Patriots,
For I appeal to your judicious bosoms
Where serious Justice has a residence
Mixt with a pious pitty: I shall unravel
The Clew of my misfortunes in small threeds
Thin-spun as is the subtil Gothsemay.
Deep wounds, like griefs, require contracted lines,
Few words, long sighs, Accents that want express.
First give me leave one beamling to bestow
On my obscur'd, once glorious family.
All.
Madam proceed, Fame made it eminent.
Julip.
But now contemptive, by marrying one
Who bears the shape of man, and that is all,
A base-white-liver'd Coward: whose regard
To his lost honour stamps him with that brand,
That hateful stigma which humanity
Scorns as the basest complice.
Palisado.
Style it Madam.
Julip.
Pusillanimity.—That Ranter breaths not
Who with his peekt Monchato's may not brave him,
Baffle, nay baste him out of his possessions:
His fortunes he esteems not, so his person
May be secur'd from beating.
Matchless Coward.
Julip.
Nor is this all; 'has sought t'ingage my Bed,
My Nuptial Bed and honour, nay those sheets,
Where I may safely vow, ne're man lay in
Beside my husband.
2. Boy.
Very like; But how many when he was not
there?
Aside.
Florello.
No misfortune worse
Nor humor hateful to a virile spirit,
Whereof your noble family partakes
Then want of courage.
Palisado.
Tush, Sir, that's not all,
Her line in time might grow degenerate
And blanch the living memory of those
From whence she came.
Caveare.
There's none who here appears
Before you Conscript Consuls, but can give
Store of evincing instances of this:
For matching with Sir Jasper Simpleton
An hair-brain'd puppy, most of all my brood
Run like shell headed Lapwings in careers
Just as their own supposed father did
Simple Sir Jasper, whose small doze of sence
Proportion'd their discretion.—Till a change
Impregnated me more wisely.
Fricase.
So did I
Suffer in my raw Puny Amadin;
Though all my fears summ'd up their period,
And in it crown'd my wishes for one Boy,
Who while he lives, I think, will prove a Boy,
I had by my young stripling: who can trace
His fathers steps directly: all his games
Wherein his lineal youth takes sole delight
Are yert-point, nine pins, job-nut, or span counter,
Or riding cock-horse, which, his Dad admires
Smiling to see such horsemanship perform'd:
Now I appeal to you, whose judgements are
Maturely serious, if these tomboy tricks
To act what my affections prompt me do!
Joculet.
If one complain of the minority
Of her thin-douny Consort: and you Madam
Of his Simplicity whom you have chus'd,
And you Julippe of his Cowardise,
Whom with averseness you have made your spouse;
What grounds of discontent may I conceive
Unhappy Joculette, in my choice
My nightly torture; whose Embraces be
Worse then those snaky windings unto me
Dipt in Medusa's Charms.
Caranto.
Unbare your wound.
2. Boy.
Nay, let that be the least of your fears;—shee'l
do that to an hair.
Joculet.
Know then judicious Consuls
These arms are forc'd t'inwreath a shapeless mass
Of all Deformity: a Bear unlickt,
One whom Thersites that disfigur'd Greek
So far excell'd in native Lineaments,
Proportion, Feature, and Complexion,
(All rare attractives to the eye of Love,)
As amorous Narcissus in his prime
Surpast the roughest Sylvan that the woods
E're nurst or harbour'd: yet enjoyn'd am I
To hug this Centaur: who appears to me
A Prodigy in Nature.
All.
'Tis a fate
Exacts compassion: and deserves redress.
Florello.
Such a compleat and exquisite a beauty
Accomplish'd in all parts—
Caranto.
Nay qualifi'd
With rarity of arts to make her sex
With pious emulation to admire
Her choice perfections—
Palisado.
And all these obscur'd,
Soil'd, sullied, perish'd by th'immeriting touch
Of a mishapen Boor—
Such precious gems
Set in ignoble mettals cannot chuse
But much detract from th'native graceful lustre
Which they retain'd by means of that base Ore
Impals their Orient splendor.—
Morisco.
This is nothing
To th'injury her linage may receive
From his deformity.
Tilly.
I must confess
That threatneth much of danger: yet I read not
That Vulcans poult foot or his smutted look
Blackned with Lemnian Sea-coal, brought the issue
Be got by Venus, if he any got,
To change their amorous physnomy—
Morisco.
He may thank
Mars for that active courtesie, or it had
Disfigur'd much his spurious progeny.
Florello.
Well Madam, we compassionate your choice
In your Sir Gregory Shapeless: and shall finde
A quick receipt to cure your discontent
With a new-molded and more pleasing feature
Then your sad fate enjoys.—Repose, till we
Have run through all your griefs, and felt your pulses.
2. Boy.
For shame sake, no further my dainty Doctors.
Aside.
Florello.
With th'symptoms or gradations as they stream
In your desertless Sufferings; Paroxisms,
Or what Extreams may most surprize your fancies:
In these, our serious Judgements shall supply
Such sov'raign Cordials: as you shall not need
No use nor application of more helpe
Then what we shall prepare: let this suffice,
It rests in us to cure your maladies.
—Excuse us Madam Medler, these debates
Have kept us from discovery of your wrongs.
Medler.
Then which none more depressive:—would you judge
Th'Musician good that wants his Instrument:
Without provision of a proper tool
To manage that imployment?—Modesty
Bids me conceal the rest: my secret wants
Require an active tongue: but womanhood
Injoyns me silence.
Morisco.
'Las I'm sensible
Of her aggrievance ere her dialect
Can give it breath or accent.
Medler.
But you say,
And our experience has inform'd us too
In that essential truth, that we must first
Disclose our wounds, if we expect a cure:
Let your impartial judgements then give eat
To a distressed Ladies just complaint.
In my first years, as now I am not old,
My friends resolved, to supply a portion,
Which my descent though good could not afford,
To match my youth unto a man of age,
Whose Nest was richly feather'd, stor'd of all
But native vigour, which exprest it self
As if all radical humour had been drencht
In a chill shady bed of Cucumbers
Before our Nuptial Night: oft had I begg'd
With sighs and tears that this unequal match
Might be diverted: but it might not be,
The fulness of his fortunes winged them
To consummate the match: this pleased them,
But me displeas'd, whom it concerned most.
Florello.
The issue, Madam!
Medler.
None, nor ever shall
With that seer suckless Kex.
Morisco.
Never was Lady
So rarely beautifi'd, so highly wrong'd.
Car.
What flinty worldling were those friends of yours
To value Fortunes more then your content?
Palisado.
To prostitute your honour to a clod
Of mouldred earth?
And in an icy bed
To starve your blooming comforts?
Tilly.
This exceeds
All spousall suffering, which preceding times
In our Italian stories ever read
Or in their sable Annals registred.
Flor.
Much of Sir Tristram Shorttool, so I think,
Men call your Husband, have I ofttimes heard
And his penurious humour: But your wrongs
Were strangers to me, till your own relation
Displaid their quality; which to allay,
Nay, quite remove, transmit the care to us
And our directions, to supply your wants.
We should be just to all, but still retain
A bosom pitty to the weaker sex;
If we observ'd not this with tenderness,
We should not merit this Judicial Seat
Whereto—
1. Boy.
These Dabrides rais'd you.
Tilly.
Now Madam Tinder your aggrieves are last.
Tinder.
But not the least: what woman could endure
In spousal rights to have a stranger share
In her enjoyments? or remain depriv'd
Of her propriety by losing those
Appropriate dues which Nature has ordain'd
And sacred rites approv'd?—You see I'm young,
And youth expects that tribute which our sex
May challenge by descent.
All.
Her Plea is good.
Tinder.
Would you not reverend Consuls hold it strange,
To see a savage unconfined Bull,
When th'Pasture's fruitful, and the milk-pail full,
And all delights that might content a Beast,
Range here and there: and break into those grounds
Which are less fertil, and where neither shade
Affords him umbrage, nor smooth-running Brooks
Streams to allay his thirst: nay, where the grass
Too strow for fodder, and too rank for pasture
Would generate more fatal maladies
Or Countrey Farriers had art to cure?
Florello.
Such Bullocks, Madam, well deserve a baiting.
Tilly.
And beating too.
Tinder.
Yet this is my condition.
For marrying one Sir Reuben Scattergood,
A Person in appearance like enough
And well-dispos'd for ought my watchful Eyes
Could long discover: but his Father dead
And his revenues by his Death swoln great,
His Nuptial Bed he leaves: and entertains
Such mercenary Prostitutes as fancy,
His loose-exposed Fancy, lur'd him to.
Caranto.
Injurious Ribald.
Palisado.
Hateful Libertine.
Tilly.
Had she been old, or crook't, or any way
Deform'd.
Sal.
Or ill-condition'd.
Morisco.
Or averse
When he was active.
Florello.
Or run retrograde
To his just pleasures: these might have abridg'd
And weakned his affection: but when beauty,
Composed temper and a graceful presence
Cloth'd both with majesty and a sweet smile
Of such attractive quality, as th'Adamant
Cannot more vertually enforce its Object
Then these impressive motives of content:
He merits not the Title of a Man,
Much less th'embraces of so choice a spouse,
Who violates his faith; deceives her trust.
Caranto.
I am directly, Sir, of your opinion.
Palisado.
So I;
Morisco.
And I.
All.
So all of us concur,
To make our Judgements more unanimous.
Tinder.
And to confirm't, may you be pleas'd to give
Attention to a story I shall tell,
My Patience has endur'd, and to what height
His Luxury ascended?
All.
Madam do,
We shall lend ready Ears to your discourse.
Tinder.
It chanc'd one day, and ofttimes so it chanc'd,
For doubtful thoughts have ever jealous eyes,
That my suspicion had be got a fear,
That my neglectful Husband had a kindeness,
And more then usual, unto my Maid,
A proper Maid, if so she might be call'd:
Now to possess my self whether those grounds
Whereon I built might just inducements be
Of my late-hatched fears, I made pretence,
(What is it Jealousie will not design?)
To go from home: But this was no recede
But a retire: for in the Ev'ning time
When those two amorous pair expected least
Such an unwelcome visit, I repair'd
To a close Arbour set with Sycamours,
The Tamarisk and sweet-breath'd Eglantine,
That local Object which I fixt upon
Not of my self, but by direction,
Where I found out what I suspected long,
Such want on dalliance as the Lemnian Smith
Never discover'd more when he prepar'd
His artful Net t'enwreath his Eriena
Impal'd in Mars his arms.
All.
Could you contain
Your passion in such Aretine a posture?
Tinder.
With much reluctancy I did indeed,
Curbing my temper which was much enrag'd
With this too milde expression:—Fie for shame!
“Minion Ile have none of this work, not I.
“You may when it it is offer'd you, said he.
1. Boy.
Ha, ha, ha. This was a bold-fac'd Nigler, trust
me Wag.
Aside.
Florello.
Was't not enough for him t'enjoy his pleasure,
Caranto.
As if you were
A Stale to his light dalliance?
Palisado.
Or a scorn to his embraces.
Was her servile beauty
Expos'd to sale, dishonour of her Sex
To be compar'd to yours?
Sal.
Whose native splendour
Without the help of Art, which makes complexion
By borrow'd colours much unlike it self;
May challenge a prerogative ith' rank
Of our compleatest Features.
Morisco.
It seems strange
How you could brook th'affront without revenge
On that insulting Prostitute.
Tillival.
No doubt
She would take hold of opportunity
By th'foretop, and repair her pressing wrongs
By private satisfactions, which works best
When their Revenge seems sleeping and at rest.
This Lady would not rate her worth so small
As to forego both Use and Principal.
2. Boy.
No; reverend Favourite, you will finde this Madam
Spitfire of a keener mettal then so. She's right tinder:
no sooner touch then take.
Florello.
Ladies, We've heard your different Complaints
Forcing our just compassion and resolves
To tender your condition and redress:
What may the purport be of your Petition
Relating to your grievances?
All-Lad.
A freedom
From our dis-relish'd Beds.
All-Plat.
'Tis granted you.
Ladies.
With Alimony to support our state
In this division.
Platon.
Your suit is just,
Should we oppose it, we might wrong out selves.
1. Boy.
Very likely; for they mean to be made whole
is brave judicial Brocage.
Aside.
Florello.
Speak Fellow Colleagues, Shall I limit them
What we in Justice hold expedient
For th'Alimonal Charge proportion'd them,
And in what measure to supply their Wants?
All.
Do so Florello, we shall second it.
Florello.
Thus I conceive, these Ladies have resign'd
Their title, property and interest,
In whole and not in part which they enjoy'd
In their defective Husbands.—Were't not just
In lieu oth' whole which they have here disclaim'd
That they should seize upon the Moity
Of their Revenues whom they have here deserted
As useless Instruments unto the State?
Platon.
A just proportion:
Ladies.
We submit to it.
2. Boy.
And so ye may well, if your Husbands will
yield to't.
1. Boy.
These be nimble shavers Nick as well as sharers:
they know how to cut large thongs out of other folks
leather.
Flor.
This crowns our wishes, when with joynt consent
We close our votes and render you content.
Caranto.
Dismount, dismount, let's exercise no more;
They descend.
These purple seats; their stories stand too high
For our Ascent: Onely let's thus much know
Whether our Parts were acted well or no.
Ladies.
Above expectance: singular in all,
But best in your Conclusion.
Fricase.
You did well
In your proportioning of our Alimony,
Moulded to th'moity of their estates
Whom we have justly left: but we had less
Allotted us in more Authentick Courts.
Palisado.
That was not in our verge to regulate.
Caveare.
Nor skills it much: we have a competence
More blest because exempted from those bonds
Which our long servitude inchain'd us to.
Florello.
Of Consuls then, which title we usurpt
To chear your fancies, we shall now become
Your Servants, Confidents or Favourites,
Or how you please to style us:—we are all
Affianc'd yours: firm as the solid Rock
In your reserved Councels and what may
Hold correspondence with your interests,
But soft and malleable as liquid amber
In its resolving temper when delight
Shall sport it in your bosom, and admit
A sociable dalliance.
Fricase.
Your free discourse
Grounded on former proofs of constancy
Has so indeer'd me, I am wholly yours.
Cav.
Madam; we mean not you shall have it so;
You've broke the ice, and we will trace your steps;
Former experience has ingaged me
To fix on my Caranto.
Julippe.
Palisado shall
Injoy my love.
Joculette.
I for my Salibrand.
Medler.
Morisco mine.
Tinder.
Tinder shall Tilly's be.
Tilly.
Pure tender Tinder of affection,
The new-blown Bloom that craves a native warmth
To cherish its young growth shall not receive
More solace from those Orient rayes which shine
On its fresh-springing beauty, then your choice
Shall in my dear embraces.
Tinder.
I shall try you.
1. Boy.
Thus walks the poor Gentlemens Revenues to
raise these Doxes Alimony: and thus runs their Alimony to
feed these youngsters riot.
Platon.
Our joy's compleated:—Seal this joynt
Conveyance
They kiss.
“One house did hold, one house shall hold us twain,
“Once did we kiss, and we will kiss again.
2. Boy.
How Turtle-like they couple!
Scen. 6.
Upon these Platonicks private Parliance, Dalliance and Embraces of their Ladies;Enter Sir Amadin Puny; Sir Jasper Simpleton; Sir Arthur Heartless: Sir Gregory Shapeless; Sir Tristram Shorttool; Sir Reuben Scattergood: in a melancholly discontented mode; with their Hats over their eyes.
Sir Amadin.
Is this th'Platonick Law; all things in common?
Sir Jasper.
Must all forego their wives that are not wise?
Sir Arthur.
Or be divorc't because we dare not fight?
Sir Greg.
Or lose our Mates because we are not handsom?
Sir Trist.
Nay, 'cause we are not arm'd so well as others be,
Forfeit our Consort and our Fortunes too?
Sir Reuben.
Yes, that's the plague on't,—lose a light-heel'd trull,
That in my judgement's nothing: but to lose all
Or Moity of that all, or any part at all
For a poor nifling toy that's worse then nothing,
'Tis this that nettleth me.—I must confess
Tinder that light-skirt with impetuous heat
Sometimes pursu'd me, till that quenchless fire
Burst into flames of boundless jealousie
Which crost mine humour: for variety
Relisht my pallat:—Phœnix brains be rare
But if our dishes had no other fare
They would offend the stomach, and so sate it
As grosser meats would give a better taste:
Such was my surfet to a Marriage-bed.
My Fortunes I prefer before her beauty,
Or what may most content the appetite.
Money will purchase wenches: but this want,
This roguish thing call'd want makes wanton thoughts
Look much unlike themselves: 'tis this white mettal
Enliveneth spirits, knits our arteries
Apprentice to his wife meerly for love,
May he, pen-feather'd widgeon, forfeit's freedom
With whatsoe're is dearest to the vogue
Of his affections: she were a rare piece
That could ingage me or oblige me hers
With all those Ceremonial rites which Flamins use
To Hymens honour: Beauty, still stay I,
Will breed a surfeit, be it ne're so choice
Nor eye-attractive: “I should chuse a Grave
“Before one Mistress all mine Interest have.
O my Alimony, Alimony; this is the goad that onely prickels me!
Platon.
Those be your Husbands, Ladies;—how pittifully
they look?
Ladies.
Alas, poor Cuckolds.
These Platonicks discover the Knights: and scornfully eye them.
Knights.
Ladies, we were sometimes your Husbands.
Ladies.
True,
You were so; but your known defects have raz'd
That style of Wedlock: and infranchis'd us
From that tyrannick yoke.—We'r now our own,
Nor shall our Beds by you be henceforth known.
Sir Amadin.
What have I done?
Fricase.
Nothing, Sir Amadin;
And that's sufficient to divide us two.
Your puny years must grow in strength and sinews
To prove you man before you can partake
In my enjoyments: th'Court has so decreed,
And by resentment of that injury
Your blooming youth unripened for delight
Has done to me your hapless Virgin Bride,
Held fit to number me amongst these Ladies,
All different sufferers; and for supportance,
As every thing, you know, would gladly live,
Allots us Alimony.
Florello.
So, his score's paid.
Aside.
Sir Jasper.
Madam, look on Sir Jasper.
Honest Simpleton
And so I will, just as the Fowler is wont
On a catcht Dotrell; till your wasted brains
Rise to more growth, I from my widdow'd Bed
Will rise untoucht: these brests shall never give
Their nursing teats unto a Brood of Fools.
Caranto.
So, good Sir Jasper, you've your Doom in Folio.
Aside.
Sir Arthur.
Receive me dear Julippe.
Julippe.
For what end?
Have you stoln from your Colours?—Oh I hate
A Coward worser then a Maidenhead
Basely bestow'd;—these Paphlagonian Birds,
These Heartless Partridges shall never nestle
Under my feathers: till your spirit revive
And look like man, disclaim your interest
And injur'd title in Julippe.
Palisado.
So;
He must first learn to fight, e're she to love.
(Aside.
Joculette.
What would Sir Gregory?
Sir Greg.
That you would love me.
Jocul.
No; you must cast your slough first: can you see
Ought in your self worth loving: have you ever
Since our unhappy meeting us'd a Glass,
And not been startled in the sad perusal
Of your affrightful Physnomy?—Sir, hear me,
And let me beg your patience if you hear,
Ought may dis-relish you;—when th'Camel shall
Transhape himself into a nimble Wesil
Or such like active Creature: and this Bunch
Which Nemesis has on your shoulders pitcht,
This Bunch of Grapes I mean, shall levell'd be
She lies her hand upon his Shoulders.
And brought into proportion by a Press
Equally squeezing, till it shall retain
Adonis feature, I shall value you
And hug you for my Consort: But till then
Excuse my strangeness.
So, his Cause is heard.
He must unshape himself to gain her love.
Medler.
Sir Tristram Shorttool, have you ought to do
In this pursuit of fancy?
Sir Tristram.
Something Madam.
Med.
But small to purpose: Sir Tristram you have been
A man of Reading: and on Winter Nights
You told me tales, for that was all you did,
What strange adventures and what gallant acts
Redoubted Knights did for their Ladies sakes,
But what did you for Medler all the while?
Did you e're toss a Pike, or brandish Blade
For her dear sake?—Go to, I shall conceal,
And with a modest bashful veil in-shroud
What Sense bids me discover.—Let me Sir
Advise you as a Friend; for other styles
Relating to an Husband, I shall never
Henceforth resent them; with a free comply:
Love suits not well with your decrepit age;
Let it be your chief care t'intend your health:
Use Caudels, Cordials, Julips, Pectorals,
Keep your Feet warm, binde up your nape oth' neck
Close against chilling ayres, that you may live
An old man long:—but take especial care
You button on your night-cap—
Morisco.
After th'new fashion
(Aside.
With his loave Ears without it.
Medler.
This is all;
Onely your absence.
Morisco.
So good night Sir Tristram.
(Aside.
Sir Reuben.
Sweet Madam Tinder.
Sir Reuben offers to kiss her.
Tinder.
Keep your distance Sir;
I love not to be toucht.
Sir Reuben.
Are you so hot
My tender Tinder?
Tinder.
No Sir; look to the Clime
Where you inhabit; there's the Torrid Zone.
Tilly.
Yea, there goes the hair away.
(Aside.
Can you not love?
Tinder.
Not One that loves so many.
Sir Reuben.
'Las pretty Pear,
Tinder.
Pray Sir, hold off your hand;
Truck with your low-priz'd Traders; I must tell you
Mine honour's higher rated.
Sir Reuben.
Be it so;
I wish you would disclaim your Alimony,
With that indiff'rent touch as you do Love,
You should not need a Dispensation, Madam,
It should be granted unpetitioned.
Tinder.
I'm confident it would:—nor shall the coolness
Of your affection, bring me to an ebbe
Of favour with my self: Plant where you please,
Ile henceforth scorn to hugg my own disease.
Tilly.
So, Sir Reuben's dispatcht; and like a Ranger
may tappice where he likes.
(Aside.
Sir Reuben.
But hark you Madam, what be these brave Blades
That thus accouter you? are they your Platonicks,
Hectors, or Champion-Haxters, Pimps or Paliards;
Or your choice Cabinet-Confidents?
Tinder.
You may
Exact accompt from them.
Sir Reuben.
No; but I will not;
Long since I've heard a Proverb made me wise,
And arm'd me Cap a pe 'gainst such accounts:
“Whos'ere he be that tuggs with durty foes,
“He must be foil'd admit he win or lose.
Tin.
Shall I acquaint them with your Adage, Sir?
Sir Reuben.
Do if you please.
Tinder.
No Sir, I am too tender
Of your indanger'd Honour.—Should a baffle
Ingage your fame, and I the instrument
It would disgust me.
Sir Reuben.
You are wondrous kinde.
But pray you tell me, is this Favourite
Or Turn-key of your Councel in the rank
For it concerns me.
Tinder.
Pray good Sir, as how?
Sir Reuben.
Since 'tis my fate, I would be branched nobly
Lest mine adulterate Line degenerate
And raze the ancient splendor of mine House,
As many noble Families have done
By mixing with inferiour Apple squires,
Grooms, Pages, Ushers, which in time begot
Such middle Wits in this our middle Region,
None could distinguish them from Corydons,
Nor well discover whence they might derive
Their prime descent, unless it were by th'Crest
Their Footmen wore: or what their Coach presented
In it's reer quarter.—All your Sir Reuben begs
Aims mainly at your Honours priviledge,
Which shielded I'm secure; and it is this,
“Let choice hands meddle with your Tinder-box.
Tinder.
Make that your least of fears.—Wee'l keep our fame,
Amidst this freedom, still unblemished.
Knights.
So, we have all receiv'd their final Answers.
Sir Reuben.
Nor do I mean to draw up my Rejoynder.
“He who will lose his wits, or break his heart
“For such a Wench as will not take his part:
“And will not shun what he may safely flye,
“May He a Bedlam or a Beggar dye.
Knights.
Farewell inconstant Ladies.
Ladies.
Adue constant Actæons.
Exeunt omnes.
The Ladies usher'd in by their Confidents.
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