 | English-men for my Money : Or A pleasant Comedy, called, A Woman will haue her Will |  |
Pisaro.
How smugge this gray-eyde Morning seemes to bee,
A pleasant sight; but yet more pleasure haue I
To thinke vpon this moystning Southwest Winde,
That driues my laden Shippes from fertile Spaine:
But come what will, no Winde can come amisse,
For two and thirty Windes that rules the Seas,
And blowes about this ayerie Region;
Thirtie two Shippes haue I to equall them:
Whose wealthy fraughts doe make Pisaro rich:
Thus euery Soyle to mee is naturall:
Indeed by birth, I am a Portingale,
Who driuen by Westerne winds on English shore,
Heere liking of the soyle, I maried,
And haue Three Daughters: But impartiall Death
Long since, depriude mee of her dearest life:
Since whose discease, in London I haue dwelt:
And by the sweete loude trade of Usurie,
Letting for Interest, and on Morgages,
Doe I waxe rich, though many Gentlemen
By my extortion comes to miserie:
Amongst the rest, three English Gentlemen,
Haue pawnde to mee their Liuings and their Lands:
Each seuerall hoping, though their hopes are vaine,
By mariage of my Daughters, to possesse
Their Patrimonies and their Landes againe:
But Gold is sweete, and they deceiue them-selues;
For though I guild my Temples with a smile,
It is but Iudas-like, to worke their endes.
Enter Laurentia, Marina, Mathea, and Anthony.
Laur.
Now Maister, what intend you to read to vs?
Anth.
Pisaro your Father would haue me read morall Philosophy.
Mari.
What's that?
Anth.
First tell mee how you like it?
Math.
First tell vs what it is.
Pisa.
They be my Daughters and their Schoole-maister,
Pisaro, not a word, but list their talke.
Anth.
Gentlewomen, to paint Philosophy,
Is to present youth with so sowre a dish,
As their abhorring stomackes nill digestes.
When first my mother Oxford (Englands pride)
Fostred mee puple-like, with her rich store,
My study was to read Philosophy:
But since, my head-strong youths vnbridled will,
Scorning the leaden fetters of restraint,
Hath prunde my feahers to a higher pitch.
Gentlewomen, Morall Philosophy is a kind of art,
The most contrary to your tender sexes;
It teacheth to be graue: and on that brow,
Where Beawtie in her rarest glory shines,
Plants the sad semblance of decayed age:
Those Weedes that with their riches should adorne,
And grace faire Natures curious workmanship,
Must be conuerted to a blacke fac'd vayle,
Griefes liuerie, and Sorrowes semblance:
Your food must be your hearts aboundant sighes,
Steep'd in the brinish licquor of your teares:
Day-light as darke-night, darke-night spent in prayer:
Thoughts your companions, and repentant mindes,
The recreation of your tired spirits:
Gentlewomen, if you can like this modestie,
Then will I read to you Philosophy.
Not I.
Mari.
Fie vpon it.
Math.
Hang vp Philosophy, Ile none of it.
Pisar.
A Tutor said I; a Tutor for the Diuell.
Anth.
No Gentlewomen, Anthony hath learn'd
To read a Lector of more pleasing worth.
Marina, read these lines, young Haruie sent them,
There euery line repugnes Philosophy:
Then loue him, for he hates the thing thou hates.
Laurentia, this is thine from Ferdinande:
Thinke euery golden circle that thou see'st,
The rich vnualued circle of his worthe.
Mathea, with these Gloues thy Ned salutes thee;
As often as these, hide these from the Sunne,
And Wanton steales a kisse from thy faire hand,
Presents his seruiceable true harts zeale,
Which waites vpon the censure of thy doome:
What though their Lands be morgag'd to your Father;
Yet may your Dowries redeeme that debt:
Thinke they are Gentlemen, and thinke they loue;
And be that thought, their true loues aduocate.
Say you should wed for Wealth; for to that scope
Your Fathers greedy disposition tendes,
The world would say, that you were had for Wealth,
And so faire Beawties honour quite distinct:
A masse of Wealth being powrde vpon another,
Little augments the shew, although the summe;
But beeing lightly scattred by it selfe,
It doubles what it seem'd, although but one:
Euen so your selues, for wedded to the Rich,
His stile was as it was, a Rich man still:
But wedding these, to wed true Loue, is dutie:
You make them rich in Wealth, but more in Beawtie:
I need not plead that smile, that smile shewes hearts consent,
That kisse shew'd loue, that on that gift was lent:
And last thine Eyes, that teares of true ioy sendes,
Mari.
Haue done, haue done; what need'st thou more procure,
When long ere this I stoop'd to that faire lure:
Thy euer louing Haruie I delight it:
Marina euer louing shall requite it young.
Teach vs Philosphy? Ile be no Nunne;
Age scornes Delight, I loue it being:
There's not a word of this, not a words part,
But shall be stamp'd, seal'd, printed on my heart;
On this Ile read, on this my senses ply:
All Arts being vaine, but this Philosophy.
Laur.
Why was I made a Mayde, but for a Man?
And why Laurentia, but for Ferdinand?
The chastest Soule these Angels could intice?
Much more himselfe, an Angell of more price:
were't thy selfe present, as my heart could wish,
Such vsage thou shouldst haue, as I giue this.
Anth.
Then you would kisse him?
Laur.
If I did, how then?
Anth.
Nay I say nothing to it, but Amen.
Pisa.
The Clarke must haue his fees, Ile pay you them.
Math.
Good God, how abiect is this single life,
Ile not abide it; Father, Friends, nor Kin,
Shall once disswade me from affecting:
A man's a man; and Ned is more then one:
Yfayth Ile haue thee Ned, or Ile haue none;
Doe what they can, chafe, chide, or storme their fill,
Mathea is resolu'd to haue her will.
Pisa.
I can no longer hold my patience.
Impudent villanie, and laciuious Girles,
I haue ore-heard your vild conuersions:
You scorne Philosophy: You'le be no Nunne,
You must needes kisse the Pursse, because he sent it.
And you forsooth, you flurgill, minion,
A brat scant folded in the dozens at most,
Youle haue your will forsooth; What will you haue?
But twelue yeare old? nay Father that's not so,
Our Sexton told mee I was three yeares mo.
Pisa.
I say but twelue: you'r best tell mee I lye.
What sirra Anthony.
Anth.
Heere sir.
Pisa.
Come here sir, & you light huswiues get you in:
Stare not vpon me, moue me not to ire:
Exeunt sisters.
Nay sirra stay you here, Ile talke with you:
Did I retaine thee (villaine) in my house,
Gaue thee a stipend twenty Markes by yeare,
And hast thou thus infected my three Girles,
Vrging the loue of those, I most abhord;
Vnthrifts, Beggers; what is worse,
And all because they are your Country-men?
Anth.
Why sir, I taught them not to keepe a Marchants
Booke, or cast accompt: yet to a word much like that
word Accounte.
Pisa.
A Knaue past grace, is past recouerie.
Why sirra Frisco, Villaine, Loggerhead, where art thou?
Enter Frisco, the Clowne.
Frisc.
Heere's a calling indeed; a man were better to
liue a Lords life and doe nothing, then a Seruing creature,
and neuer be idle. Oh Maister, what a messe of Brewesse
standes now vpon the poynt of spoyling by your hastinesse;
why they were able to haue got a good Stomacke
with child euen with the sight of them; and for a Vapour,
oh precious Vapour, let but a Wench come neere them
with a Painted face, and you should see the Paint drop and
curdle on her Cheekes, like a peece of dry Essex Cheese
toasted at the fire.
Pisa.
Well sirra, leaue this thought, & minde my words,
Giue diligence, inquire about
For one that is expert in Languages,
A good Musitian, and a French-man borne;
And bring him hither to instruct my Daughters,
Ile nere trust more a smooth-fac'd English-man.
Frisc.
What, must I bring one that can speake Languages,
what an old Asse is my Maister; why he may speake
flaunte taunte as well as French, for I cannot vnderstand him.
Pisa.
If he speake French, thus he will say, Awee awee:
What, canst thou remember it?
Frisc.
Oh, I haue it now, for I remember my great
Grandfathers Grandmothers sisters coosen told mee, that
Pigges and French-men, speake one Language, awee awee; I
am Dogg at this: But what must he speake else?
Pisa.
Dutch.
Frisc.
Let's heare it?
Pisa.
Haunce butterkin slowpin.
Fris.
Oh this is nothing, for I can speake perfect Dutch
when I list.
Pisa.
Can you, I pray let's heare some?
Frisc.
Nay I must haue my mouth full of Meate first,
and then you shall heare me grumble it foorth full mouth,
as Haunce Butterkin slowpin frokin: No, I am a simple Dutch-man:
Well, Ile about it.
Pisa.
Stay sirra, you are too hastie; for hee must speake
one Language more.
Frisc.
More Languages? I trust he shall haue Tongues
enough for one mouth: But what is the third?
Pisa.
Italian.
Fris.
Why that is the easiest of all, for I can tell whether
he haue any Italian in him euen by looking on him.
Pisa.
Can you so, as how?
Frisc.
Marry by these three poynts; a Wanton Eye.
Pride in his Apparell, and the Diuell in his Countenance.
Well, God keepe me from the Diuel in seeking this French-man:
But doe you heare mee Maister, what shall my fellow
Anthony doe, it seemes he shall serue for nothing but to
put Lattin into my young Mistresses.
Pisa.
Hence asse, hence loggerhead, begon I say.
And now to you that reades Philosophy,
Packe from my house, I doe discharge thy seruice,
And come not neere my dores; for if thou dost,
Ile make thee a publike example to the world.
Well crafty Fox, you that worke by wit,
It may be, I may liue to fit you yet.
Exit Antho.
Pisa.
Ah sirra, this tricke was spide in time,
For if but two such Lectures more they'd heard,
For euer had their honest names been marde:
Ile in and rate them: yet that's not best,
The Girles are wilfull, and seueritie
May make them carelesse, mad, or desperate.
What shall I doe? Oh! I haue found it now,
There are three wealthy Marchants in the Towne,
All Strangers, and my very speciall friendes,
The one of them is an Italian:
A French-man, and a Dutch-man, be the other:
These three intyrely doe affect my Daughters,
And therefore meane I, they shall haue the tongues,
That they may answere in their seuerall Language:
But what helpes that? they must not stay so long,
For whiles they are a learning Languages,
My English Youths, both wed, and bed them too:
Which to preuent, Ile seeke the Strangers out,
Let's looke: tis past aleauen, Exchange time full,
There shall I meete them, and conferre with them,
This worke craues hast, my Daughters must be Wedde,
For one Months stay, sayth farrewell Mayden head.
Exit.
Enter Haruie, Heigham, and Walgraue.
Heigh.
Come Gentlemen, w'are almost at the house,
I promise you this walke ore Tower-hill,
Of all the places London can afforde,
Hath sweetest Ayre, and fitting our desires.
Haru.
Good reason, so it leades to Croched-Fryers
Where old Pisaro, and his Daughters dwell,
Looke to your feete, the broad way leades to Hell:
They say Hell standes below, downe in the deepe,
But sirra Ned, what sayes Mathea to thee?
Wilt fadge? wilt fadge? What, will it be a match?
Walg.
A match say you? a mischiefe twill as soone:
Sbould I can scarce begin to speake to her,
But I am interrupted by her father.
Ha, what say you? and then put ore his snoute,
Able to shaddow Powles, it is so great.
Well, tis no matter, sirrs, this is his House,
Knocke for the Churle bid him bring out his Daughter;
Ile, sbloud I will, though I be hanged for it,
Heigh.
Hoyda, hoyda, nothing with you but vp & ride,
Youle be within, ere you can reach the Dore,
And haue the Wench, before you compasse her:
You are too hastie, Pisaro is a man,
Not to be fedde with Words, but wonne with Gold.
But who comes heere?
Enter Anthony.
Walg.
Whom, Anthony our friend?
Say man, how fares our Loues? How doth Mathea?
Can she loue Ned? how doth she like my sute?
Will old Pisaro take me for his Sonne;
For I thanke God, he kindly takes our Landes,
Swearing, Good Gentlemen you shall not want,
Whilst old Pisaro, and his credite holds:
He will be damn'd the Roage, before he do't?
Haru.
Prethy talke milder: let but thee alone,
And thou in one bare hower will aske him more,
Then heele remember in a hundred yeares:
Come from him Anthony, and say what newes?
Antho.
The newes for me is badd; and this it is:
Pisaro hath discharg'd me of his seruice.
Heigh.
Discharg'd thee of his seruice; for what cause?
Anth.
Nothing, but that his Daughters learne Philosophy.
Haru.
Maydes should reade, that it teacheth modestie.
I, but I left out mediocritie,
And with effectuall reasons, vrgd your loues.
Walg.
The fault was small, we three will to thy Maister
And begge thy pardon.
Antho.
Oh, that cannot be,
Hee hates you farre worser, then he hates me;
For all the loue he shewes, is for your Lands,
Which he hopes sure will fall into his hands:
Yet Gentlemen, this comfort-take of me,
His Daughters to your loues affected be:
Their father is abroad, they three at home,
Goe chearely in, and cease that is your owne:
And for my selfe, but grace what I intend,
Ile ouerreach the Churle, and helpe my Frend.
Heigh.
Build on our helpes, and but deuise the meanes.
Antho.
Pisaro did commaund Frisco his man,
(A simple sotte, kept onely but for myrth)
To inquire about in London for a man,
That were a French-man and Musitian,
To be (as I suppose) his Daughters Tutor:
Him if you meete, as like enough you shall,
He will inquire of you of his affayres;
Then make him answere, you three came from Paules,
And in the middle walke, one you espide,
Fit for his purpose; then discribe this Cloake,
This Beard and Hatte: for in this borrowed shape,
Must I beguile and ouer-reach the Foole:
The Maydes must be acquainted with this drift.
The Doore doth ope, I dare not stay reply,
Least beeing discride: Gentlemen adue,
And helpe him now, that oft hath helped you.
Exit.
Enter Frisco the Clowne.
Wal.
How now sirra, whither are you going?
Fris.
Whither am I going, how shall I tell you, when I
doe not know my selfe, nor vnderstand my selfe?
What dost thou meane by that?
Frisc.
Marry sir, I am seeking a Needle in a Bottle of
Hay, a Monster in the liknesse of a Man: one that in stead
of good morrow, asketh what Porrage you haue to Dinner,
Parley vous signiour? one that neuer washes his fingers,
but lickes them cleane with kisses; a clipper of the Kings
English: and to conclude, an eternall enemie to all good
Language.
Haru.
What's this? what's this?
Fris.
Doe not you smell me? Well, I perceiue that witte
doth not always dwel in a Satten-dublet: why, tis a French-man,
Bassimon cue, how doe you?
Haru.
I thanke you sir, but tell me what wouldest thou
doe with a French-man:
Fris.
Nay fayth, I would doe nothing with him, vnlesse
I set him to teach Parrets to speake: marry the old
Asse my Maister, would haue him to teach his Daughters,
though I trust the whole world sees, that there be such in
his house that can serue his Daughters turne, as well as the
proudest French-man: but if you be good laddes, tell me
where I may finde such a man?
Heigh.
We will, goe hye thee straight to Paules,
There shalt thou find one fitting thy desire;
Thou soone mayst know him, for his Beard is blacke,
Such is his rayment, if thou runn'st appace,
Thou canst not misse him Frisco.
Fris.
Lord, Lord, how shall poore Phrisco rewarde
your rich tydings Gentlemen: I am yours till Shrouetewesday,
for then change I my Coppy, &c looke like nothing
but Red-Herring Cobbes, and Stock-Fish; yet Ile doe
somewhat for you in the meane time: my Maister is abroad,
and my young Mistresses at home: if you can doe
any good on them before the French-man come, why so?
Ah Gentlemen, doe not suffer a litter of Languages to
spring vp amongst vs: I must to the Walke in Paules, you
to the Vestrie. Gentlemen, as to my selfe, and so foorth.
Exit Frisco,
Haru.
Fooles tell the truth men say, and so may he:
Wenches we come now, Loue our conduct be.
Ned, knocke at the doore: but soft forbeare;
Enter Lawrentia, Marina, and Mathea.
[Laur.]
The Cloude breakes vp, and our three Sunnes appeare.
To this I fly, shine bright my liues sole stay,
And make griefes night a gloryous summers day.
Mari.
Gentlemen, how welcome you are here,
Guesse by our lookes, for other meanes by feare
Preuented is: our fathers quicke returne
Forbidds the welcome, else we would haue done.
Walg.
Mathea, How these faythfull thoughts obey,
Mat.
No more sweet loue, I know what thou would'st say:
You say you loue me, so I wish you still,
Loue hath loues hier, being ballancst with good will:
But say; come you to vs, or come you rather
To pawne more Lands for mony to our father?
I know tis so, a Gods name spend at large:
What man? our mariage day will all discharge;
Our father (by his leaue) must pardon vs,
Age saue of age, of nothing can discusse:
But in our loues, the prouerbe weele fulfill:
Women and Maydes, must alwayes haue their will.
Heigh.
Say thou as much, and adde life to this Coarse,
Law.
Your selfe & your good news doth more enforce:
How these haue set forth loue by all their witte,
I sweare in heart, I more then double it.
Sisters be glad, for he hath made it playne,
The meanes to get our Schoole-maister againe:
But Gentlemen, for this time cease our loues,
This open streete perhaps suspition moues,
Fayne we would stay; bid you walke in more rather,
Goe to th'Exchange, craue Gold as you intend,
Pisaro scrapes for vs; for vs you spend:
We say farewell, more sadlier be bold,
Then would my greedy father to his Gold:
Wee here, you there, aske Gold; and Gold you shall:
Weele pay the intrest, and the principall.
Exeunt Sisters
Walg.
That's my good Girles, and Ile pay you for all.
Haru.
Come to th'Exchange, and when I feele decay,
Send me such Wenches, Heauens I still shall pray.
Exeunt.
Enter Pisaro, Delion the Frenchman, Vandalle the Dutchman, Aluaro the Italian, and other Marchants, at seuerall doores.
Pisa.
Good morrow, M. Strangers.
Strang.
Good morrow sir.
Pisaro.
This (louing friends) hath thus emboldned me,
For knowing the affection and the loue
Maister Vandalle, that you beare my Daughter:
Likwise, and that with ioy considering too,
you Mounsier Delion, would faine dispatch:
I promise you, mee thinkes the time did fit,
And does bir-Lady too, in mine aduice,
This day to clap a full conclusion vp:
And therefore made I bold to call on you,
Meaning (our businesse done here at the Burse)
That you at mine intreaty should walke home,
And take in worth such Viands as I haue:
And then we would, and so I hope we shall,
Loosely tye vp the knot that you desire,
But for a day or two; and then Church rites
Shall sure conforme, consume, and make all fast.
Uand.
Seker Mester Pisaro, mee do so groterly dancke
you, dat you macke mee so sure of de Wench, datt ic can
neit dancke you genough.
Delio.
Monsieur Pisaro, mon pere, mon Vadere, Oh de
grande ioye you giue me (oconte) mee sal go home to your
House, sal eat your Bakon, sal eat your Beefe, and shal
tacke de Wench, de fine Damoysella.
Pisa.
You shall, and welcome; welcome as my soule:
But were my third Sonne sweete Aluaro heere,
Wee would not stay at the Exchange to day,
But hye vs home and there end our affayres.
Enter Moore, and Towerson.
Moore.
Good day maister Pisaro.
Pisa.
Maister Moore, marry with all my heart good
morrow sir; What newes? What newes?
Moore.
This Marchant heere my friend, would speake
with you.
Tower.
Sir, this iolly South-west wind with gentle blast,
Hath driuen home our long expected Shippes,
All laden with the wealth of ample Spaine,
And but a day is past since they ariude
Safely at Plimmouth, where they yet abide.
Pisa.
Thankes it too small a guerdon for such newes.
How like you this Newes friends? Maister Uandalle,
Heer's somewhat towards for my Daughters Dowrie:
Heer's somewhat more then we did yet expect.
Tower.
But heare you sir, my businesse is not done;
From these same Shippes I did receiue these lines,
And there inclosde this same Bill of exchange,
To pay at sight; if so you please accept it.
Pisa.
Accept it, why? What sir should I accept,
Haue you receiued Letters, and not I?
Where is this lazie villaine, this slow Poast;
What, brings he euery man his Letters home,
And makes mee no bodie; does hee, does hee?
I would not haue you bring me counterfeit;
And if you doe, assure you I shall smell it:
I know my Factors writing well enough.
Tower.
You doe sir; then see your Factors writing:
Pisa.
Tis well you doe sir.
Enter Haruie, Welgraue, and Heighun.
What Maister Walgraue, and my other frindes:
You are growne strangers to Pisaros house,
I pray make bold with me.
Walsg.
I, with your Daughters
You may be sworne, weele be as bold as may be.
Pisa.
Would you haue ought with me, I pray now speak.
Heigh.
Sir, I thinke you vnderstand our sute,
By the repayring we haue had to you:
Gentlemen you know, must want no Coyne,
Nor are they slaues vnto it, when they haue:
You may perceiue our minds; What say you to't?
Pisa.
Gentlemen all, I loue you all:
Which more to manifest, this after noone
Betweene the howers of two and three repaire to mee;
And were it halfe the substance that I haue,
Whilst it is mine, tis yours to commaunde.
But Gentlemen, as I haue regard to you,
So doe I wish you'll haue respect to mee:
You know that all of vs are mortall men,
Subiect to change and mutabilitie;
You may, or I may, soone pitch ore the Pearch,
Or so, or so, haue contrary crosses:
Wherefore I deeme but meere equitie,
That something may betwixt vs be to shew.
Heigh.
M. Pisaro, within this two months without faile,
We will repay.
Enter Browne.
Browne.
Good saue you Gentlemen.
Gentlemen.
Good morrow sir.
Pisa.
What M. Browne, the onely man I wisht for,
Does your price fall? what shall I haue these Cloathes?
I doe wish you my Mony fore another.
Brow.
Fayth you know my price sir, if you haue them.
Pisa.
You are to deare in sadnesse, maister Heigham:
You were about to say somewhat, pray proceede.
Heigh.
Then this it was: those Landes that are not
morgag'd
Enter Post.
Post.
God blesse your worship.
Pisaro.
I must craue pardon; Oh sirra, are you come?
Walg.
Hoyda, hoyda; Whats the matter now;
Sure, yonder fellow will be torne in peeces.
Haru.
Whats hee, sweete youths; that so they flocke about:
What old Pisaro tainted with this madnesse?
Heigh.
Vpon my life, tis some body bringes newes;
The Courte breakes vp, and wee shall know their Counsell:
Looke, looke, how busely they fall to reading.
Pisa.
I am the last, you should haue kept it still:
Well, we shall see what newes you bring with you;
Our duty premised, and we haue sent vnto your worship
Sacke, siuill Oyles, Pepper, Barbery sugar, and such other
commodities as we thought most requisite, we wanted
mony therefore we are fayne to take vp 200. l. of Maister
Towersons man, which by a bill of Exchange sent to him,
we would request your worship pay accordingly.
The newes here is, that the English shipes, the Fortune,
your shipe, the aduenture and good lucke of London coasting
along by Italy Towards Turky, were set vpon by to
Spanish-galleis, what became of them we know not, but
doubt much by reason of the weathers calmnesse.
Pisa
How ist six to one the weather calme,
Now afore God who would not doubt their safety,
A plague vpon these Spanish-galli Pirattes,
Were halfe such terrour to the anticke world,
As these same anticke Villaines now of late,
Haue made the Straights twixt Spaine and Barbary.
Tower
Now sir, what doth your Factors letters say?
Pisa.
Marrie he saith, these witlesse lucklesse doults,
Haue met, and are beset with Spanish Gallies,
As they did saile along by Italy:
What a bots made the dolts neere Italy,
Could they not keepe the coast of Barbary,
Or hauing past it, gone for Tripoly,
Beeing on the other side of Sicily,
As neere, as where they were vnto the Straights:
For by the Gloabe, both Tripoly and it,
Lie from the Straights some twentie fiue degrees;
And each degree makes three-score english miles?
Tower.
Very true sir: But it makes nothing to my Bill
of exchange: this dealing fits not one of your account.
Pisa.
And what fits yours? a prating wrangling toung,
A womans ceaselesse and incessant babling,
That sees the world turnd topsie turuie with me;
Yet hath not so much witte to stay a while,
Till I bemone my late excessiue losse.
Walg.
S'wounds tis dinner time, Ile stay no longer:
Harke you a word sir.
Pisa.
I tell you sir, it would haue made you whine
Worse then if shooles of lucklesse croking Rauens,
Had ceasd on you to feed their famisht paunches:
Had you heard newes of such a rauenous rout,
Ready to cease on halfe the wealth you haue.
Wal.
Sbloud you might haue kept at home & be hangd,
What a pox care I.
Enter a Post.
Post.
God saue your worship, a littlemony and so forth.
Pisa.
But men are sencelesse now of others woe,
This stony age is growne so stony harted,
That none respects their neighbours miseries,
The long out worne world weare in vse againe,
That men might sayle without impediment.
Post.
I marry sir that were a merry world indeede, I
would hope to gette more mony of your worship in one
quarter of a yeare, then I can doe now in a whole twelue-moneth.
Enter Balsaro.
Balsa.
Maister Pisaro how I haue runne about,
How I haue toyld to day to finde you out,
At home, abroade, at this mans house, at that,
Why I was here an hower agoe and more,
Where I was tould you were, but could not finde you.
Pisa.
Fayth sir I was here but was driuen home,
Heres such a common hant of Crack-rope boyes,
That what for feare to haue m'apparell spoyld,
Or my Ruffes durted, or Eyes strucke out:
I dare not walke where people doe expect mee:
Well, things (I thinke) might be better lookt vnto,
And such Coyne to, which is bestowde on Knaues,
Which should, but doe not see things be reformd,
Might be imployde to many better vses:
But what of beardlesse Boyes, or such like trash;
The Spanish Gallies: Oh, a vengeance on them.
Post.
Masse, this man hath the lucke on't, I thinke I can
scarce euer come to him for money, but this a vengeance
on, and that a vengeance on't, doth so trouble him, that I
can get no Coyne: Well, a vengeance on't for my part; for
he shall fetch the next Letters him selfe.
Browne.
I prethee, when thinkst thou the Ships will be
come about from Plimmouth?
Post.
Next weeke, sir.
Heigh.
Came you sir from Spaine lately?
Post.
I sir; Why aske you that?
Ha.
Marry sir, thou seemes to haue bin in the hot countries,
thy face looks so like a peece of rusty Bacon: had thy Host
at Plimmoth meat enough in the house, whē thou wert there?
Post.
What though he had not sir? but he had, how then?
Marry thanke God for it; for otherwise, he
would doubtles haue Cut thee out in Rashers to haue eaten
thee; thou look'st as thou weart through broyld already.
Post.
You haue sayd sir; but I am no meate for his moing,
nor yours neither: If I had you in place where, you
should find me tough enough in disgestion, I warrant you.
Walgr,
What will you swagger sirra, will yee swagger?
Brow.
I beseech you Sir, hold your hand; Gette home
yee patch, cannot you suffer Gentlemen lest with you?
Post.
Ide teach him a Gentle tricke and I had him of the
burse; but Ile watch him a good turne I warrant him.
Moor.
Assure yee maister Towerson, I cannot blame him,
I warrant you it is no easie losse;
How thinke you maister Stranger? by my fayth sir,
Ther's twentie Marchants will be sorry for it,
That shall be partners with him in his losse.
Stra.
Why sir, whats the matter.
Moor.
The Spanish-gallies haue besette our shippes,
That lately were bound out for Siria.
March.
What not? I promise you I am sorry for it.
Walg.
What an old Asse is this to keepe vs here:
Maister Pisaro, pray dispatch vs hence.
Pisa.
Maister Vandalle I confesse I wronge you;
But ile but talke a word or two with him, and straight
turne to you.
Heigh.
Turne to vs, turne to the Gallowes if you will,
Haru.
Tis Midsomer-Moone with him: let him alone,
He call's Ned Walgraue, Maister Vandalle.
Walg.
Let it be shrouetide, Ile not stay an ynche maister Pisaro.
Pisa.
What should you feare: ende as I haue vow'd before,
So now againe; my Daughters shalbe yours:
And therefore I beseech you and your friendes,
Deferre your businesse till Dinner time;
And what youd say, keepe it for table talke.
Marrie and shall; a right good motion:
Sirrs, old Pisaro is growne kind of late,
And in pure loue, hath bid vs home to dinner.
Heigh.
Good newes in truth: But wherfore art thou sad?
Walg.
For feare the slaue ere it be dinner time,
Remembring what he did, recall his word:
For by his idle speaches, you may sweare,
His heart was not confederat with his tongue.
Haru.
Tut neuer doubt, keepe stomacks till anone,
And then we shall haue cates to feede vpon.
Pisa.
Well sir, since things doe fall so crosely out,
I must dispose my selfe to patience:
But for your businesse, doe you assure your selfe,
At my repayring home from the Exchange,
Ile set a helping hand vnto the same.
Enter Aluaro the Jtalian.
Alua.
Bon iurno signeour Padre, why be de malancollie so
much, and graue in you a: wat Newes make you looke
so naught?
Pisa.
Naught is too good an epithite by much,
For to distinguish such contrariousnesse:
Hath not swift Fame told you our slow sailde Shippes
Haue been ore-taken by the swift saile Gallies,
And all my cared-for goods within the lurch
Of that same Catterpiller brood of Spaine.
Alua.
Signor fi, how de Spaniola haue almost tacke de
Ship dat go for Turkie: my Pader, harke you me on word,
I haue receiue vn lettre from my Factor de Vennise, dat after
vn piculo battalion, for vn halfe howre de come a Winde
fra de North, & de Sea go tumble here, & tumble dare, dat
make de Gallies run away for feare be almost drownde.
Pisa.
How sir; did the Winde rise at North, and Seas
waxe rough: and were the Gallies therefore glad to fly?
Alu.
Signior si, & de Ship go drite on de Iscola Candy.
Wert thou not my Aluaro my beloued,
One whom I know does dearely count of mee,
Much should I doubt me that some scoffing lacke,
Had sent thee in the middest of all my griefes,
To tell a feigned tale of happy lucke.
Alua.
Wil you no beleuue me? see dare dan, see de lettre.
Pisa.
What is this world? or what this state of man,
How in a moment curst, in a trice blest?
But euen now my happie state gan fade,
And now againe, my state is happie made,
My Goods all safe, my Ships all scapt away,
And none to bring me newes of such good lucke,
But whom the Heauens haue markt to be my Sonne:
Were I a Lord as great as Alexander,
None should more willingly be made mine Heyre
Then thee thou golden tongue, thou good-newes teller
Ioy stops my mouth.
The Exchange Bell rings.
Balsa.
M. Pisaro, the day is late, the Bell doth ring:
Wilt please you hasten to performe this businesse?
Pisa.
What businesse sir? Gods mee, I cry you mercie:
Doe it, yes sir, you shall commaund me more.
Tower.
But sir, What doe you meane, doe you intend
To pay this Bill, or else to palter with mee?
Pisa.
Marry God sheild, that I should palter with you:
I doe accept it, and come when you please;
You shall haue money, you shall haue your money due.
Post.
I beseech your worship to consider mee.
Pisa.
Oh, you cannot cogge: Goe to, take that,
Pray for my life: pray that I haue good lucke,
And thou shalt see, I will not be thy worst maister.
Post.
Marry God blesse your Worship; I came in happy
time: What, a French crowne? sure hee knowes not what
he does: Well, Ile begon, least he remember himselfe, and
take it from me againe
Pisa
Come on my lads, M. Vandalle, sweet sonne Aluaro:
Bir laken sirs, I thinke tis one a clocke.
Exit Pisaro, Balsaro, Aluaro, Delion, and Uandalle.
Brow.
Come M. Moore, th'Exchange is waxen thin,
I thinke it best we get vs home to dinner.
Moor.
I know that I am lookt for long ere this:
Come maister Towerson, let's walke along.
Exit Moore, Brovvne, Tovverson, Strangers, & Marchant.
Heigh.
And if you be so hot vpon your dinner,
Your best way is, to haste Pisaro on,
For he is cold enough, and slow enough;
He hath so late digested such cold newes.
Walg.
Mary and shall: Heare you maister Pisaro.
Haru.
Many Pisaros heere: Why how now Ned;
Where is your Matt your welcome, and good cheare?
Walg.
Swounds, lets follow him; why stay we heere?
Heigh.
Nay prethee Ned Walg. lets bethinke our selues,
There's no such haste, we may come time enough:
At first Pisaro bade vs come to him
Twixt two or three a clocke at after noone?
Then was he old Pisaro: but since then,
What with his griefe for losse, and ioy for finding,
Hee quite forgat himselfe, when he did bid vs,
And afterward forgat, that he had bade vs.
Walg.
I care not, I remember't well enough:
Hee bade vs home; and I will goe, that's flat,
To teach him better witte another time.
Haru.
Heer'le be a gallantiest, when we come there,
To see how maz'd the greedie chuffe will looke
Vpon the nations, sects, and factions,
That now haue borne him company to dinner:
But harke you, lets not goe to vexe the man;
Prethee sweet Ned lets tarry, doe not goe.
Walg.
Not goe? indeed you may doe what you please;
Ile goe, that's flat: nay, I am gon alreadie,
Heigh.
Nay all will goe, if one: I prethee stay;
Thou'rt such a rash and giddie headed youth,
Each Stone's a Thorne: Hoyda, he skips for haste;
Young Haruie did but iest; I know heele goe.
Walg.
Nay, he may chuse for mee: But if he will,
Why does he not? why stands he prating still?
If youle goe, come: if not, fare-well?
Haru.
Hier a Poast-horse for him (gentle Francke)
Heer's haste, and more haste then a hastie Pudding:
You mad-man, mad-cap, wild-oates; we are for you,
It bootes not stay, when you intend to goe.
Walg.
Come away then.
Exeunt.
Enter Pisaro, Aluaro, Delion, and Uandalle.
Pisa.
A thousand welcomes friendes: Monsier Delion,
Ten thousand Ben-venues vnto your selfe.
Signior Aluaro, Maister Vandalle;
Proude am I, that my roofe containes such Friends.
Why Mall, Larentia, Matth; Where be these Girles?
Enter the three Sisters.
Liuely my Girles, and bid these Strangers welcome;
They are my friends, your friends, and our wel-willers:
You cannot tell what good you may haue on them.
Gods mee, Why stirre you not? Harke in your eare,
These be the men the choyse of many millions,
That I your carefull Father haue prouided
To be your Husbands: therefore bid them welcome.
Math.
Nay by my troth, tis not the guyse of maydes,
aside,
To giue a slauering Salute to men:
If these sweete youths haue not the witte to doe it,
Wee haue the honestie to let them stand.
Vanda.
Gods sekerlin, dats vn-fra meskin, Monsieur
Delion dare de Grote freisler, dare wode ic zene, tis vn-fra
Daughter, dare hebic so long loude, dare Heb my desire
so long gewest.
Ah Uenice, Roma, Italia, Frauncia, Anglitera, nor all
dis orbe can shew so much belliza, veremante de secunda,
Madona de granda bewtie.
Delio.
Certes me dincke de mine depeteta de little Angloise,
de me Matresse Pisaro is vn nette, vn becues, vn fra,
et vn tendra Damosella.
Pisa.
What Stocks, what stones, what senceles Truncks be these?
When as I bid you speake, you hold your tongue:
When I bid peace, then can you prate, and chat,
And gossip: But goe too, speake and bid welcome;
Or (as I liue) you were as good you did.
Mari.
I cannot tell what Language I should speake:
Yf I speake English (as I can none other)
They cannot vnderstand mee, nor my welcome.
Alua.
Bella Madona, dare is no language so dulce; dulce,
dat is sweete, as de language, dat you shall speake, and de
vell come dat you sal say, sal be well know perfaytemente.
Mari.
Pray sir, What is all this in English?
Alua.
De vsa sal vell teash you vat dat is; and if you sal
please, I will teash you to parler Italiano.
Pisa.
And that mee thinkes sir, not without need:
And with Italian, to a Childes obedience,
With such desire to seeke to please their Parents,
As others farre more vertuous then them selues,
Doe dayly striue to doe: But tis no matter,
Ile shortly pull your haughtie stomacks downe:
Ile teach you vrge your Father; make you runne,
When I bid runne: and speake, when I bid speake:
What greater crosse can carefull parents haue
Then carelesse Children. Stirre and see who knocks?
(knock within
Enter Haruie, Walgraue, and Heigham.
Walgr.
Good morrow to my good Mistris Mathea.
Mathe.
As good a morrow, to the morrow giuer.
Pisa.
A murren, what make these? What do they heere?
You see maister Pisaro, we are bold guestes,
You could haue bid no surer men then wee.
Pisa.
Harke you Gentlemen; I did expect you
At after noone, not before two a clocke.
Haru,
Why sir, if you please, you shall haue vs heere at
two a clocke, at three a clocke, at foure a clock; nay till to
morrow this time: yet I assure you sir, wee came not to
your house without inuiting.
Pisa.
Why Gentlemen, I pray who bade you now?
Who euer did it, sure hath done you wrong:
For scarcely could you come to worser cheare.
Heigh.
It was your owne selfe bade vs to your cheare,
When you were busie with Balsaro talking;
You bade vs cease our suites till dinner time,
And then to vse it for our table talke:
And wee I warrant you, are as sure as Steele.
Pisa.
A murren on your selues, and surenes too:
How am I crost: Gods mee, what shall I doe,
This was that ill newes of the Spanish Pirats,
That so disturb'd mee: well, I must dissemble,
And bid them welcome; but for my Daughters
Ile send them hence, they shall not stand and prate.
Well my Maisters, Gentlemen, and Friends,
Though vnexpected, yet most heartily welcome;
(Welcome with a vengeance) but for your cheare,
That will be small: yet too too much for you.
Mall, in and get things readie.
Laurentia, bid Maudlin lay the Cloth, take vp the Meate:
Looke how she stirres; you sullen Else, you Callet,
Is this the haste you make:
Exeunt Marina & Laurentia.
Alua.
Signor Pisaro, ne soiat so malcontento de Gentlewoman
your filigola did parler but a litella to, de gentle
homa your graunde amico.
Pisa.
But that graunde amico, is your graunde inimico:
One, if they be suffred to parlar,
They loue togeather: and the other two,
Loues her two Sisters: but tis onely you
Shall crop the flower, that they esteeme so much.
Alua.
Do dey so; vell let me lone, sal see me giue dem
de such graund mocke, sal be shame of dem selues.
Pisa.
Doe sir, I pray you doe; set lustily vpon them,
And Ile be ready still to second you.
Walg.
But Matt, art thou so mad as to turne French?
Math.
Yes marry when two Sundayes come together;
Thinke you Ile learne to speake this gibberidge,
Or the Pigges language? Why, if I fall sicke,
Theyle say, the French (et-cetera) infected mee.
Pisa.
Why how now Minion; what, is this your seruice?
Your other Sisters busie are imployde,
And you stande idle: get you in, or.
Exit Mathea.
Walg.
Yf you chide her, chide me (M. Pisaro:
For but for mee, she had gon in long since.
Pisa.
I thinke she had: for we are sprights to scare her;
But er't be long, Ile driue that humor from her.
Alua.
Signor, me thincks you soud no macke de wen she
so hardee, so disobedient to de padre as ditt madona Matt.
Walg.
Signor, me thinkes you should learne to speake,
before you should be so foole-hardy, as to woe such a
Mayden as that Madona Matt?
Delio.
Warrent you Monsieur, he sal parle wen you sal
stande out the doure.
Haru.
Harke you Monsieur, you would wish your selfe
halfe hang'd, you were as sure to be let in as hee.
Uan.
Macke no doubt de signor
Alua.
sal do vel enough
Heigh.
perhaps so: but me thinks your best way were to
ship your selfe for Stoad, and there to batter your selfe for a
commodity; for I can tell you, you are here out of liking.
Pisa.
The worst perhappes dislike him, but the best
esteeme him best.
But by your patience sir, mee thinks none
should know better who's Lord, then the Lady.
Alua.
Den de Lady, vat Lady?
Haru.
Marry sir, the Lady let her alone: one that
meanes to let you alone for feare of trouble.
Pisa.
Euery man as he may: yet sometimes the blinde
may katch a Hare.
Heigh.
I sir, but he will first eate many a Fly:
You know it must be a wonder, if a Crab catch a Fowle.
Uand.
Maer hort ens; if he & ic & monsier Delion be de
Crab, we sal kash de Fowle wel genough, I warrent you.
Walg.
I, and the Foole well enough I warrant you;
And much good may it doe yee.
Alua.
Mee dincke such a piculo man as you be, sal haue
no de such grande lucke madere.
Delio.
Non da Monsieur, and he be so granda amorous
op de Damosella, he sal haue Mawdlyn de witt Wenshe in
de Kichine by maiter Pisaros leaue.
Walg.
By M. Pisaros leaue, Monsieur Ile mumble you, except
you learne to know, whom you speake to: I tell thee
Francois, Ile haue (maugre thy teeth) her that shall make
thee gnash thy teeth to want.
Pisa.
Yet a man may want of his will, and bate an Ace
of his wish: But Gentlemen, euery man as his lucke serues,
and so agree wee; I would not haue you fall out in my
house: Come, come, all this was in iest, now lets too't in
earnest; I meane with our teeth, and try who's the best
Trencher-man.
Exeunt.
Enter Frisco.
Frisc.
Ah sirra, now I know, what manner of thing
Powles is; I did so marle afore what it was out of ail count:
For my maister would say, Would I had Powles full of
Gold. My young Mistresses, and Grimkin our Taylor,
would wish they had Powles full of Needles: I, one askt
my maister halfe a yard of Freeze to make me a Coate and
hee cride whoope holly-day, it was big enough to make
Powles a Night-gowne. I haue been told, that Duke Humfrie
dwelles here, and that he keeps open house, and that a
braue sort of Cammileres dine with him euery day; now
if I could see any vision in the world towards dinner, I
would set in a foote: But the best is, a the auncient English
romaine Orator saith, So-lame-men, Misers, Howsewiues,
and so foorth: the best is, that I haue great store of companie
that doe nothing but goe vp and downe, and goe vp
and downe, and make a grumbling togeather, that the
meate is so long making readie: Well, if I could meete
this scuruie Frenchman, they should stay mee, for I would
be gone home.
Enter Anthony.
Antho.
I beseech you Monsieur, giue mee audience.
Frisc.
What would you haue? What should I giue you?
Antho.
Pardon, sir mine vnciuill and presumptuous intrusion,
who indeauour nothing lesse, then to prouoke or
exasperat you against mee.
Frisc.
They say, a word to the Wise is enough: so by
this little French that he speakes, I see hee is the very man I
seeke for: Sir, I pray what is your name?
Antho.
I am nominated Monsieur Le Mouche, and rest at
your bon seruice.
Frisc.
I vnderstand him partly; yea, and partly nay:
Can you speake French? Content pore vous monsieur Madomo.
Antho.
If I could not sir, I should ill vnderstand you:
you speake the best French that euer trode vpon Shoe of
Leather.
Frisc.
Nay, I can speake more Languages then that:
This is Italian, is it not? Nella slurde Curtezana.
Antho.
Yes sir, and you speake it like a very Naturall.
Frisc.
I beleeue you well: now for Dutch:
Ducky de doe watt heb yee ge brought.
I pray stop your mouth, for I neuer heard such
Dutch before brocht.
Frsc.
Nay I thinke you haue not met with no pezant:
Heare you M. Mouse, (so your name is I take it) I haue
considered of your learning in these aforesaid Languages,
and find you reasonable: So, so, now this is the matter;
Can you take the ease to teach these Tongues to two or
three Gentlewomen of mine acquaintance, and I will see
you paide for your labour.
Antho.
Yes sir, and that most willingly.
Fris.
Why then M. Mouse, to their vse, I entertaine yee,
which had not been but for the troubles of the world, that
I my selfe haue no leasure to shew my skill: Well sir, if
youle please to walke with me, Ile bring you to them.
Exeunt.
Enter Laurentia, Marina, and Mathea.
Lauren.
Sit till dinners done; not I, I sweare:
Shall I stay? till he belch into mine eares
Those rusticke Phrases, and those Dutch French tearmes,
Stammering halfe Sentences dogbolt Elloquence:
And when he hath no loue for-sooth, why then
Hee tels me Cloth is deare at Anwerpe, and the men
Of Amsterdam haue lately made a law,
That none but Dutch as hee, may trafficke there:
Then standes he still and studies what to say;
And after some halfe houre, because the Asse
Hopes (as he thinkes) I shall not contradict him.
Hee tels me that my Father brought him to me,
And that I must performe my Fathers will.
Well good-man Goose-cap, when thou woest againe,
Thou shalt haue simple ease, for thy Loues paine.
Mathe.
Alas poore Wench, I sorrow for thy hap,
To see how thou art clog'd with such a Dunce:
Forsooth my Sire hath fitted me farre better,
My Frenchman comes vpon me with the Sa, sa, sa;
And then out goes his Hand, downe goes his Head,
Swallowes his Spittle, frissles his Beard; and then to mee:
Pardone moy mistresse Mathea,
If I be bold, to macke so bold met you,
Thinke it go will dat spurres me dus vp yow.
Dan cast neit off so good ande true Louer,
Madama celestura de la, (I know not what)
Doe oft pray to God dat me woud loue her:
And then hee reckons a catalogue of names
of such as loue him, and yet cannot get him.
Mari.
Nay, but your Monsieur's but a Mouse in cheese,
Compard with my Signor, hee can tell
Of Lady Uenus, and her Sonne blind Cupid:
Of the faire Scilla that was lou'd of Glaucus,
And yet scornd Glaucus, and yet lou'd King Minos;
Yet Minos hated her, and yet she holp'd him;
And yet he scorn'd her, yet she kild her Father
To doe her good; yet he could not abide her:
Nay, hele be bawdy too in his discourse;
And when he is so, he will take my Hand,
And tickle the Palme, wincke with his one Eye,
Gape with his Mouth, and
Laur.
And, hold thy tongue I prethee: here's my father.
Enter Pisaro, Aluaro, Uandalle, Delion, Haruie, Walgraue, and Heigham.
Pisa.
Vnmannerly, vntaught, vnnurtred Girles,
Doe I bring Gentlemen, my very friends
To feast with mee, to reuell at my House,
That their good likings, may be set on you,
And you like misbehaud and sullen Girles,
Turne tayle to such, as may aduance your states:
I shall remembert, when you thinke I doe not.
I am sorrie Gentlemen, your cheare's no better;
And you shall haue amendes be made in Bed.
To them friends, to them; they are none but yours:
For you I bred them, for you brought them vp:
For you I kept them, and you shall haue them:
I hate all others that resort to them:
Then rouse your bloods, be bold with what's your owne:
For I and mine (my friends) be yours, or none.
Enter Frisco and Anthonie.
Frisc.
God-gee god-morrow sir, I haue brought you
M. Mouse here to teach my young Mistresses: I assure you
(for-sooth) he is a braue Frenchman.
Pisa.
Welcome friend, welcome: my man (I thinke)
Hath at the full, resolu'd thee of my will.
Monsieur Delion, I pray question him:
I tell you sir, tis onely for your fake,
That I doe meane to entertaine this fellow,
Antho.
A bots of all ill lucke, how came these heere?
Now am I posde except the Wenches helpe mee:
I haue no French to flap them in the mouth,
Haru.
To see the lucke of a good fellow, poore Anthony
Could nere haue sorted out a worser time:
Now will the packe of all our sly deuises
Be quite layde ope, as one vndoes an Oyster:
Francke, Heigham, and mad Ned, sall to your muses,
To helpe poore Anthony now at a pinch,
Or all our market will be spoyld and marde.
Walg.
Tut man, let vs alone, I warrant you.
Delio.
Monsieur, Vous estes tresbien venu, de quell pais estes vous.
Anth.
Vous, thats you: sure he saies, how do men call you
Monsieur le Mouche?
Mari.
Sister, helpe sister; that's honest Anthonie,
And he answers, your woer cuius contrarium.
Delio.
Monsieur, Vous n'entens pas, Je ne demaunde puit,
vostre nom?
Math.
Monsieur Delion, he that made your Shooes, made
them not in fashion: they should haue been cut square at
the toe.
Delio.
Madame, my Sho met de square toe, vat be dat?
Pisa.
Why sauce-box, how now you vnreuerent mincks
Why? in whose Stable hast thou been brought vp,
To interrupt a man in midst of speach?
Monsieur Delion, disquiet not your selfe,
But as you haue begun, I pray proceed
To question with this Countriman of yours.
Delio.
Dat me sal doe tres beien, but de bella Madona
de iune Gentlewoman do monstre some singe of amour to
speake lot me, epurce monsieur, mee sal say but two tree
fowre fiue word to dis francois: or sus Monsieur Le
mouche en quelle partie de Fraunce esties vous ne?
Haru.
Fraunce.
Heigh.
Ned.
Walg.
Sbloud, let mee come.
Maister Pisaro, we haue occasion of affaires,
Which calles vs hence with speed; wherefore I pray
Deserre this businesse till some fitter time,
And to performe what at the Exchange we spoke of.
Antho.
A blessing on that tongue, saith Anthony.
Pisa.
Yes marry Gentlemen, I will, I will.
Aluaro to your taske, fall to your taske,
Ile beare away those three, who being heere,
Would set my Daughters on a merry pin:
Then chearely try your luckes; but speake, and speed,
For you alone (say I) shall doe the deed.
Exeunt Pisaro, Haruy, Walgraue, and Higham.
Frisc.
Heare you M. Mouse, did you dine to day at
Paules with the rest of the Gentlemen there?
Antho.
No sir, I am yet vndined.
Frisc.
Mee thinkes you should haue a reasonable good
stomacke then by this time, as for me I can sell nothinge
within me from my mouth to my Cod-peece but all Emptie,
wherefore I thinke a peece of wisdome to goe in and
see what Maudelin hath prouided for our Dinner maister
Mouse will you goe in?
Antho.
With as good a stomacke and desire as your selfe.
Frisc.
Lett's passe in then
Exeunt Frisco, and Anthonie.
Uanda.
Han seg you Dochtor, vor vat cause, voer why
bede also much grooterlie strange, Ic seg you wat, if datt
ghy speake to me, is dattghy loue me.
Lauren.
Ist that I care not for you, ist that your breath
stinckes, if that your breath stinckes not, you must learne
sweeter English or I shall neuer vnderstand your suite.
Delion.
Pardone moy Madame.
Math.
Withall my heart so you offend no more.
Delio.
Is dat an offence to be amorous di one belle Gentleawoman.
Math.
I sir see your Belle Gentle-woman cannot be amorous
of you.
Mar.
Then if I were as that belle Gentlewomans louer,
I would trouble her no further, nor be amorous any longer.
Aluar.
Madona yet de Belleza of de face beutie deforme
of all de Corpo may be such datt no perriculo, nor all de
mal shaunce, can make him leaue hir dulce visage.
Laur.
But signor Aluaro if the periculo or mal shaunce
were sutch, that she should loue and liue with an other,
then the dulce visage must be lefte in spite of the louers
teeth, whilst he may whine at his owne ill fortune.
Uanda.
Datts waer matresse, for it is vntrue saying, dey
wint he taught dey verleift lie scrat sin gatt.
Math.
And I thinke to are like to scratch there but neuer
to claw any of my Sisters loue away.
Uand.
Dan sal your sistree do gainst her vaders will,
for your vader segt datick sal heb har vor mine wife.
Laur.
I thinke not so sir, for I neuer heard him say so
but Ile goe in and aske him if his meaning be so.
Mari.
Harke sister signor Aluaro sayth, that I am the
fayrest of all vs three,
Laur.
Beleeue him not for heele tell any lie.
If so he thinkes thou mayst be pleasd thereby,
Come goe with me and neere stand pratinge here,
I haue a iest to tell thee in thine eare,
Shall make you laugh: come let your signor stand,
I know there's not a Wench in all this Towne,
Scoffes at him more; or loues him lesse then thou.
Maister Uandalle, as much I say for you;
If needes you marry with an English Lasse,
Woe her in English, or sheele call you Asse.
Math.
Tut that's a French cogge; sure I thinke,
There's nere a Wench in Fraunce not halfe so fond,
To woe and sue so for your Mounsership.
Delio.
Par may foy Madame, she does tincke dare is
no Wenche so dure as you: for de Fillee was cree dulce,
tendre, and amarous for me to loue hir; now me tincke dat
I being such a fineman, you should loua me.
Mathe.
So thinke not I, sir.
Delio.
But so tincke-esh oder Damosellas.
Mathe.
Nay Ile lay my loue to your commaunde,
That my Sisters thinke not so: How say you sister Mall?
Why how now Gentlemen, is this your talke?
What beaten in plaine field; where be your Maydes?
Nay then I see their louing humor fades,
And they resigne their intrest vp to mee;
And yet I cannot serue for all you three:
But least two should be madd, that I loue one,
You shall be all alike, and Ile loue none:
The world is scant, when so many Iacke Dawes,
Yf needes youle haue me stay till I am dead,
Carrion sor Crowes, Mathea for her Ned:
And so farewell, wee Sisters doe agree,
To haue our willes, but nere to haue you three.
Exeunt.
Delio.
Madama attendez, Madama: is she alle? doe she
mockque de nows in such sort?
Uand.
Oh de pestilence, hoe if datick can neite dese Englese
spreake vel, it shal hir Fader seg how dit is to passe
gecomen.
Enter Pisaro.
Aluar.
Ne parlate, see here signors de Fader.
Pisa.
Now Friends, now Gentlemen, how speedes your
worke; haue you not found them shrewd vnhappy girls?
Uand.
Mester Pisaro, de Dochter maistris Laurentia calle
me de Dyel, den Asse, for that ic can neit englesh spreken.
Alua.
Ande dat we sal no parler, dat we sal no hauar
den for de wiue.
Pisa.
Are they so lusty? Dare they be so proude?
Well, I shall find a time to meete with them:
In the meane season, pray frequent my house.
Enter Frisco running.
Ho now sirra, whither are you running?
Frisc.
About a little tiny businesse.
Pisa.
What businesse, Asse?
Frisc.
Indeed I was not sent to you: and yet I was sent
after the three Gen-men that din'd here, to bid them come
to our house at ten a clocke at night, when you were abed.
Pisa.
Ha, what is this? Can this be true?
What, art thou sure the Wenches bade them come?
Frisc.
So they said, vnlesse their mindes be changed
since: for a Woman is like a Weather-cocke they say, & I
am sure of no more then I am certaine of: but Ile go in and
bid them send you word, whether they shall come or no.
No sirra, stay you heere; but one word more:
Did they appoint thē come one by one, or else al together?
Frisc.
Altogether: Lord that such a young man as you
should haue no more witt: why if they should come together,
one could not make rome for them, but comming one
by one, theyle stand there if there were twenty of them.
Pisa.
How this newes glads me, and reuiues my soule:
How say you sirs, what will you haue a iest worth the
telling; nay worth the acting: I haue it Gentlemen,
I haue it Friends.
Alua.
Signor Pisaro, I prey de gratia watte maneire sal
we haue? wat will the parler? wat bon doe you know
Signor Pisaro, dichetinoi signor Pisaro.
Pisa.
Oh that youth so sweete, so soone should turne
to age; were I as you, why this were sport alone for me to
doe.
Saith, that the Girles haue sent for Maister Heigham
And his two friends, I know they loue them dear,
And therefore wish them late at night be heere
To reuell with them: Will you haue a iest,
To worke my will, and giue your longings rest:
Why then M. Uandalle, and you two,
Shall soone at midnight come, as they should doe,
And court the Wenches; and to be vnknowne,
And taken for the men, whom they alone
So much affect; each one shall change his name:
Maister Uandalle, you shall take Heigham, and you
Younge Haruie, and monsieur Delion Ned,
And vnder shadowes, he of substance sped:
How like you this deuice? how thinke you of it?
Delio.
Oh de braue de galliarde deuise: me sal come by de
nite and contier faire de Anglois Gentlehomes dictenous
ainsi monsieur Pisaro.
Pisa.
You are in the right sir.
And I sall name me de signor Haruy, ende monsieur
Delion sall be depiculo signor Ned, ende when madona
Laurentia sall say, who be dare? mister Vandalle sall say,
Oh my sout Laide, hier be your loue Mestro Heigham: Is
no dis de brauissime, maister Vandalle!
Vanda.
Slaet vp den tromele, vanick sall come
Vp to de camerken, wan my new Wineken
Slaet vp den tromele, van ick sall come.
Pisa.
Ha, ha, ha, maister Vandalle,
I trow you will be merrie soone at night,
When you shall doe in deed, what now you hope of.
Vanda.
I sall v seg vader, Ick sall tesh your Daughrer
such a ting, make her laugh too.
Pisa.
Well my Sonnes all, (for so I count you shall)
What we haue heere deuis'd, prouide me for:
But aboue all, doe not (I pray) forget
To come but one by one, as they did wish.
Vanda.
Mar hortens vader, ick veite neite de wecke to
your houis, hort ens sall maister Frisco your manneken
come to calle de me, and bring me to vhouse.
Pisa.
Yes marry shall hee: see that you be ready,
And at the hower of eleuen sone at night:
Hie you to Bucklersburie to his Chamber,
And so direct him straight vnto my house:
My Sonne Aluaro, and monsieur Delion,
I know, doth know the way exceeding well:
Well, weele to the Rose in Barken sor an hower:
And sirra Frisco, see you proue no blabbe.
Exeunt Pisaro, Aluaro, Delion, and Uandalle.
Frisc.
Oh monstrous, who would thinke my Maister
had so much witte in his old rotten budget: and yet
yfayth he is not much troubled with it neither. Why what
wise man in a kingdome would sende me for the Dutchman?
Does hee thinke Ile not cousen him: Oh fine, Ile
haue the brauest sport: Oh braue, Ile haue the gallentest
sport: Oh come; now if I can hold behinde, while I may
laugh a while, I care not: Ha, ha, ha.
Enter Anthonie.
Antho.
Why how now Frisco, why laughest thou so hartily?
Frisc.
Laugh M. Mouse: Laugh, ha, ha, ha.
Antho.
Laugh, why should I laugh? or why art thou so merry?
Frisc.
Oh maister Mouse, maister Mouse, it would make
any Mouse, Ratte, Catte, or Dogge, laugh to thinke, what
sport we shall haue at our house sone at night: Ile tell you,
all, my young Mistresses sent me after M. Heigham and his
friendes, to pray them come to our house after my old
Maister was a bed: Now I went, and I went; and I runne,
and I went: and whom should I meete, but my Maister
and M. Pisaro and the Strangers; so my Maister very worshipfully
(I must needs say) examined me whither I went
now? I durst not tell him an vntruth, for feare of lying, but
told him plainely and honestly mine arrande: Now who
would thinke my Maister had such a monstrous plaguie
witte, hee was as glad as could be; out of all scotch and
notch glad, out of all count glad? and so sirra he bid the
three Vplandish-men come in their steades and woe my
young Mistresses: Now it made mee so laugh to thinke
how they will be cousend, that I could not follow my Maister:
But Ile follow him, I know he is gone to the Tauerne
in his merry humor: Now if you will keepe this as secret
as I haue done hitherto, wee shall haue the brauest sport
soone, as can be. I must be gone, say nothing.
Antho.
Well, it is so:
And we will haue good sport, or it shall go hard;
This must the Wenches know, or all is maide.
Enter the three Sisters.
Harke you Mi s. Moll, Mi s. Laurentia, Mi s. Matt,
I haue such newes (my Girles) will make you smile.
What be they Maister, how I long to heare it?
Antho.
A Woman right, still longing, and with child,
For euery thing they heare, or light vpon:
Well, if you be mad Wenches, heare it now,
Now may your knaueries giue the deadliest blow
To night-walkers, cauese-droppers, or outlandish loue,
That ere was stristen.
Math.
Anthony Mowche,
Moue but the matter; tell vs but the iest,
And if you find vs slacke to execute,
Neuer giue credence, or beleeue vs more.
Antho.
Then know: The Strangers your Outlandish loues,
Appoynted by your Father, comes this night
In stead of Haruie, Heigham, and young Ned,
Vnder their shaddowes to get to your bed:
For Frisco simply told him why he went:
I need not to instruct, you can conceiue,
You are not Stockes nor Stones, but haue some store
Of witte and knauerie too.
Mathæ.
Anthony, thankes
Is too too small a guerdon for this newes;
You must be English: Well sir signor sowse,
Ile teach you trickes for comming to our house.
Laur.
Are you so craftie, oh that night were come,
That I might heare my Dutchman how hee'd sweare
In his owne mother Language, that he loues me:
Well, if I quit him not, I here pray God,
I may lead Apes in Hell, and die a Mayde;
And that were worser to me then a hanging.
Antho.
Well said old honest huddles; here's a heape
Of merrie Lasses: Well, for my selfe,
Ile hie mee to your Louers, bid them marke
With vs at night, and in some corner stay
Neere to our house, where they may make some play
Vpon your riuals, and when they are gon,
Mari.
Doe so good Maister.
Antho.
Peace, begon; for this our sport,
Some body soone will moorne.
Exeunt.
Enter Pisaro.
Pisa.
How fauourable Heauen and Earth is seene,
To grace the mirthfull complot that is laide,
Nights Candles burne obscure, and the pale Moone
Fauouring our drift, lyes buried in a Cloude:
I can but smile to see the simple Girles,
Hoping to haue their sweete-hearts here to night,
Tickled with extreame ioy, laugh in my face:
But when they finde, the Strangers in their steades,
Theyle change their note, and sing an other song.
Where be these Girles heere? what, to bed, to bed:
Mawdlin make fast the Dores, rake vp the Fire;
Gods me, tis nine a clocke, harke Bow-bell rings:
Knocke.
Some looke downe below, and see who knockes:
And harke you Girles, settle your hearts at rest,
And full resolue you, that to morrow morne,
You must be wedd to such as I preferre;
I meane Aluaro and his other friendes:
Let me no more be troubled with your nayes.
You shall doe what Ile haue, and so resolue.
Enter Moore.
Welcome M. Moore, welcome,
What winde a-gods name driues you foorth so late?
Moore.
Fayth sir, I am come to trouble you,
My wife this present night is brought to bed.
Pisa.
To bed, and what hath God sent you?
Moor.
A iolly Girle, sir.
Pisa.
And God blesse her: But what's your will sir?
Moor.
Fayth sir, my house being full of Friends,
Such as (I thanke them) came to see my wife?
My daughter Susan might be lodged here.
Pisa.
Lodge in my house, welcome withall my heart,
Matt harke you, she shall lye with you,
Trust me she could not come in fitter time.
For heere you sir, to morrow in the morning,
All my three Daughters must be married,
Good maister Moore lets haue your company,
What say you sir; Welcome honest friend.
Enter a Seruant.
Moor.
How now sirra whats the newes with you?
Pisa.
Mowehe heare you, stirre betimes to morrow,
For then I meane your Schollers shall be wed:
What newes, what newes man that you looke so sad,
Moor.
Hee brings me word my wife is new falne sicke,
And that my daughter cannot come to night:
Or if she does, it will be very late.
Pisa,
Beleeue me I am then more sorry for it.
But for your daughter come she soone or late,
Some of vs will be vp to let her in,
For heere be three meanes not to sleepe to night:
Well you must be gone? commende me to your wife,
Take heede how you goe downe, the staires are bad,
Bring here a light.
Moor.
Tis well I thanke you sir.
Exit.
Pisa.
Good night maister Moore farwell honest friend,
Come, come to bed, to bed tis nine and past,
Doe not stand prating here to make me fetch you,
But gette you to your Chambers.
Exit Pisaro.
Antho.
Birlady heres short worke, harke you Girles,
Will you to morrow marry with the strangers.
Mall.
Yfayth sir no Ile first leape out at window,
Before Marina marry with a stranger,
Antho.
Yes but your father sweares, you shall haue one.
Ma.
Yes but his daughters, swears they shall haue none,
These tango mongoes shall not rule Ore me,
Ile haue my will and Ned, or Ile haue none.
Antho.
How will you get him? how will you get him?
I know no other way except it be this,
That when your fathers in his soundest sleepe,
You ope the Dore and runne away with them,
All sisters.
So wee will rather then misse of them.
Antho.
Tis well resolude yfayth and like your selues,
But heare you? to your Chambers presently,
Least that your father doe discry out drift,
Exeunt Sisters.
Mistres Susan should come but she cannot,
Nor perhaps shall not, yet perhaps she shall,
Might not a man conceipt a prettie iest?
And make as mad a Riddle as this is,
If all thinges fadge not, as all thinges should doe,
Wee shall be sped y'fayth, Matt shall haue hue.
Enter Vandalle and Frisco.
Uand.
Wear be you mester Frisco.
Frisc.
Here sir, here sir, now if I could cousen him, take
heede sir hers a post.
Uand.
Ick be so groterly hot, datt ick swette, Oh wen
sal we come dare.
Frisc.
Be you so hotte sir, let me carry your Cloake, I
assure you it will ease you much.
Uand.
Dare here, dare, tis so Darke ey can neit see.
Frisc.
I, so so: now you may trauell in your Hose and
Doublet: now looke I as like the Dutchman, as if I were
spit out of his mouth: Ile straight home, & speake groote
and broode, and toot and gibrish; and in the darke Ile
haue a fling at the Wenches. Well, I say no more; farewell
M. Mendall, I must goe seeke my fortune.
Vanda.
Mester Frisco, mester Frisco, wat sal you no speak;
make you de Foole? Why mester Frisco; Oh de skellum,
he be ga met de Cloake, me sal seg his mester, han mester
Frisco, waer sidy mester Frisco.
Exit Vandal.
Enter Haruie, Heigham, and Walgraue.
Haruy.
Goes the case so well signor bottle-nose?
It may be we shall ouerreach your drift;
This is the time the Wenches sent vs word
Our bumbast Dutchman and his mates will come.
Well neat Italian, you must don my shape:
Play your part well, or I may haps pay you.
What, speechlesse Ned? fayth whereon musest thou?
Tis on your French coriuall, for my life:
Hee come ete vostre, and so foorth,
Till he hath foysted in a Brat or two?
How then, how then?
Walg.
Swounds Ile geld him first,
Ere that infestious loszell reuell there.
Well Matt, I thinke thou knowst what Ned can doe;
Shouldst thou change Ned for Noddy, mee for him,
Thou didst not know thy losse, yfayth thou didst not.
Heigh.
Come leaue this idle chatte, and lets prouide
Which of vs shall be scar-crow to these Fooles,
And set them out the way?
Walg.
Why that will I.
Haru.
Then put a Sword into a mad-mans hand:
Thou art so hasty, that but crosse thy humor,
And thou't be ready crosse them ore the pates:
Therefore for this time, Ile supply the rome.
Heigh.
And so we shall be sure of chatt enough;
Youle hold them with your floutes and gulles so long,
That all the night will scarcely be enough
To put in practise, what we haue deuisde:
Come, come, Ile be the man shall doe the deed.
Haru.
Well, I am content to saue your longing.
But soft, where are we? Ha, heere's the house,
And Ned and I will crosse t'other side.
Heigh.
Doe so: But hush, I heare one passing hither.
Enter Aluaro.
Aluar.
Oh de fauorable aspect of de heauen, tis so obscure,
so darke, so blacke dat no mortalle creature can
know de me: I pray a Dio I sal haue de reight Wench: Ah
si I be recht, here be de huis of signor Pisaro, I sall haue de
madona Marina, and daruor I sall knocke to de dore.
He knockes.
Heigh.
What a pox are you mad or druncke;
What, doe you meane to breake my Glasses?
Alua.
Wat be dat Glasse? Wat druncke, wat mad?
Heigh.
What Glasses sir; why my Glasses: and if you
be so crancke, Ile call the Constable; you will not enter
into a mans house (I hope) in spight of him?
Haru.
Nor durst you be so bold as to stand there,
Yf once the Maister of the House did know it.
Alua.
Is dit your Hous? be you de Signor of dis Cassa?
Heigh.
Signor me no signors, nor cassa me no cassas:
but get you hence, or you are like to taste of the Bastinado.
Heigh.
Do, do, good Ferdinand, pummell the logerhead.
Alua.
Is this neit the Hous of mester Pisaro?
Heigh.
Yes marry when? can you tell: how doe you?
I thanke you heartily, my finger in your mouth.
Alua.
Wat be dat?
Heigh.
Marry that you are an Asse and a Logerhead,
To seeke maister Pisaros house heere.
Alua.
I prey de gratia, wat be dis plashe?
Wat doe ye call dit strete?
Heigh.
What sir; why Leaden-hall, could you not see
the foure Spoutes as you came along?
Alua.
Certenemento Leden hall, I hit my hed by de way,
dare may be de voer Spouts: I prey de gratia, wish be de
wey to Crochefriers?
How, to Croched-friers? Marry you must goe
along till you come to the Pumpe, and then turne on your
right hand.
Alua.
Signor, adio.
Exit Aluaro.
Haru.
Farewell and be hang'd Signor:
Now for your fellow, if the Asse would come.
Enter Delion.
Delio.
By my trot me doe so much tincke of dit Gentlewoman
de fine Wenshe, dat me tincke esh houer ten day,
and esh day ten yeare, till I come to her: Here be de huise
of sin vader, fall alle and knocke.
He knocks.
Heigh.
What a bots ayle you, are you madd?
Will you runne ouer me and breake my Glasses?
Delio.
Glasses, wat Glasses? Prey is monsieur Pisaro to
de mayson?
Haru.
Harke Ned, there's thy substaunce
Walg.
Nay by the Masse, the substaunce's heere,
The shaddow's but an Asse.
Heigh.
What Maister Pisaro?
Logerhead, heere's none of your Pisaros?
Delio.
Yes but dit is the houis of mester Pisaro.
Walg.
Will not this monsieur Motley take his answer?
Ile goe and knocke the asse about the pate.
Har.
Nay by your leaue sir, but Ile hold your worship.
This sturre we should haue had, had you stood there.
Walg.
Why, would it not vexe one to heare the asse,
Stand prating here of dit and dan, and den and dog?
Haru.
One of thy mettle Ned, would surely doe it:
But peace, and harke to the rest.
Delio.
Doe no de fine Gentlewoman matresse Mathea
dwell in dit Plashe?
Heigh.
No sir, here dwels none of your fine Gantle-woman:
Twere a good deed sirra, to see who you are;
And then counterfeite you are going to your Queanes.
I be deeen dis darke neight; here be no Wenshe,
I be no in de right plashe: I prey Monsieur, wat be name
dis Streete, and wishe be de way to Croshe-friers?
Heigh.
Marry this is Fauchurch-streete,
And the best way to Crotched-friers, is to follow your nose
Delio.
Uanshe, streete, how shaunce me come to Vanshe
streete? vell monsieur, me must alle to Croche-friers.
Walg.
Farewell fortipence, goe seeke your Signor,
I hope youle finde your selues two Dolts anone:
Hush Fredinand, I heare the last come stamping hither.
Enter Frisco.
Frisc.
Ha sirra, I haue left my fatte Dutchman, and runne
my selfe almost out of breath too: now to my young mistresses
goe I, some body cast an old shoe after me: but soft,
how shall I doe to counterfeite the Dutchman, be cause
I speake English so like a naturall; Tush, take you no
thought for that, let me alone for Squintum squantum: soft,
her's my Maisters house,
High.
Whose there.
Frisc.
Whose there, why sir here is: Nay thats too good
English; Why here be de growtte Dutchman.
Heigh.
Then theres not onely a growte head, but an
Asse also.
Frisc.
What be yoo, yoo be an English Oxe to call a gentle
moan Asse.
Haru.
Harke Ned yonders good greeting.
Frisc.
But yoo, and yoo be Maister Mouse that dwell
here, tell your matressa Laurentia datt her sweete harte
Maister Vandall would speake with horde,
Heigh.
Maister Mendall, gette you gon, least you get
a broken Pate and so marre all: heres no entrance for misstres
Laurentios sweete heart.
Frisc.
Gods sacaren watt is the luck now.
Heigh.
Yes and to maister Pisaros Shoes too, if hee or
they were here.
Frisc.
Why my groute friend, M. Pisaro doth dwel here.
Heigh.
Sirra, you lye, heere dwells no body but I, that
haue dwelt here this one & forty yeares, and sold Glasses.
Walg.
Lye farder, one and fifty at the least.
Fris.
Hoo, hoo, hoo; do you giue the Gentleman the ly?
Haru.
I sir, and will giue you a licke of my Cudgell, if
yee stay long and trouble the whole streete with your
bawling: hence dolt, and goe seeke M. Pisaros House.
Frisc.
Goe seeke M. Pisaros House;
Where shall I goe seeke it?
Hegh.
Why, you shall goe seeke it where it is.
Frisc.
That is here in Crodched-friers.
Heigh.
How Loger-head, is Croched-friers heere?
I thought you were some such drunken Asse,
That come to seeke Croched-friers in Tower-streete:
But get you along on your left hand, and be hang'd;
You haue kept me out of my Bedd with your bangling,
A good while longer then I would haue been.
Frisc.
Ah, ah, How is this? Is not this Croched-friers?
Tell mee, Ile hold a Crowne they gaue me so much Wine
at the Tauerne, that I am druncke, and know not ont.
Haru.
My Dutchman's out his Compasse & his Card;
Hee's reckning what Winde hath droue him hither:
Ile sweare hee thinkes neuer to see Pisaros.
Frisc.
Nay tis so, I am sure druncke: Soft let mee see,
what was I about? Oh now I haue it, I must goe to my
Maisters house and counterfeite the Dutchman, and get
my young Mistresse: well, and I must turne on my left
hand, for I haue forgot the way quite and cleane:
Exit Frisco.
Heigh.
Faire weather after you. And now my Laddes,
Haru.
Twas well, twas well: But now let's cast about,
To set these Woodcocks farder from the House,
And afterwards returne vnto our Girles.
Walg.
Content, content; come, come make haste.
Exeunt.
Enter Aluaro.
Alua.
I goe and turne, and dan I come to dis plashe, I
can no tell waer, and sall doe I can no tell watt, turne by
the Pumpe; I pumpe it faire.
Enter Delion.
Delio.
Me alle, ende alle & can no come to Croche-friers.
Enter Frisco.
Frisc.
Oh miserable Blacke-pudding, if I can tell which
is the way to my Maisters house, I am a Red-herring, and
no honest Gentleman.
Alua.
Who parlato daer?
Delio.
Who be der? who alle der?
Frisc.
How's this? For my life here are the Strangers:
Oh that I had the Dutchmans Hose, that I might creepe
into the Pockets; they'le all three fall vpon me & beat me.
Alua.
Who doe der ander?
Delio.
Amis?
Frisc.
Oh braue; it's no body but M. Pharoo and the
Frenchman going to our House, on my life: well, Ile haue
some sport with them, if the Watch hinder me not.
Delio.
Who parle der, in wat plashe, in wat streat be you?
Frisc.
Why sir, I can tell where I am; I am in Tower-streete;
Where a Diuell be you?
Delio.
Io be here in Lede-hall.
Frisc.
In Leaden-hall? I trow I shall meete with you anone:
in Leaden-hall? What a simple Asse is this Frenchman.
Some more of this: Where are you sir?
Alua.
Moy I be here in Vanshe-streete.
This is excellent ynfayth, as fit as a Fiddle: I in
Tower-streete, you in Leaden-hall, and the third in Fanchurch-streete;
and yet all three heare one another, and all three
speake togeather: either wee must be all three in Leaden-hall,
or all three in Tower-streete, or all three in Fanchurch-streete;
or all three Fooles.
Alua.
Monsieur Gentle-home, can you well tesh de
wey to Croshe-frier?
Frisc.
How to Croched-friers? I, I sir, passing well if
you will follow mee.
Delio.
I dat me sal monsier Gentle-home, and giue you tanks.
Frisc.
And monsiur Pharo, I shall lead you such a iaunt,
that you shall scarce giue me thankes for. Come sirrs
follow mee: now for a durtie Puddle, the pissing Condit,
or a great Post, that might turne these two from Asses to
Oxen by knocking their Hornes to their Fore-heads.
Alua.
Whaer be de now signor?
Frisc.
Euen where you will signor, for I know not:
Soft I smell: Oh pure Nose.
Delio.
VVat do you smell?
Frisc.
I haue the scent of London-stone as full in my nose,
as Abchurch-lane of mother Walles Pasties: Sirrs feele about,
I smell London-stone.
Alua.
Wat be dis?
Frisc.
Soft let me see; feele I should say, for I cannot see:
Oh lads pray for my life, for we are almost at Croched-friers.
Delio.
Dats good: but watt be dis Post?
Frisc.
This Post; why tis the May-pole on Iuie-bridge
going to Westminster.
Delio.
Ho Wesmistere, how come we tol Wesmistere?
Frisc.
Why on your Legges fooles, how should you
goe? Soft, heere's an other: Oh now I know in deede
where I am; wee are now at the fardest end of Shoredich,
for this is the May-pole.
Delo.
Sordiche; O dio, dere be some nautie tinge, some
Spirite do leade vs.
Frisc.
You say true sir, for I am afeard your French spirt
is vp so far alredy, that you brought me this way, because
you would finde a Charme for it at the Blew Bore in the
Spittle: But soft, who comes heere?
Enter a Belman.
Bel.
Maydes in your Smocks, looke wel to your Locks,
Your Fier and your Light; and God giue you good night.
Delia.
Monsieur Gentle-home, I prey parle one, too,
tree, fore, words vore vs to disoull man.
Frisc.
Yes marry shall I sir. I pray honest Fellow, in
what Streete be wee?
Bel.
Ho Frisco, whither friske you at this time of night?
Delio.
What, Monsieur Frisco?
Alua.
Signor Frisco?
Frisc.
The same, the same: Harke yee honesty, mee
thinkes you might doe well to haue an M. vnder your
Girdle, considering how Signor Pisaro, and this other
Monsieur doe hold of mee.
Bell.
Oh sir, I cry you mercie; pardon this fault, and Ile
doe as much for you the next time.
Fris.
Well, passing ouer superfluicall talke, I pray what
Street is this; for it is so darke, I know not where I am?
Bell.
Why art thou druncke, Dost thou not know
Fanchurch-streete?
Frisc.
I sir, a good Fellow may sometimes be ouerseene
among Friends; I was drinking with my Maister and
these Gentlemen, and therefore no maruaile though I be
none of the wisest at this present: But I pray thee Goodman
Buttericke, bring mee to my Maisters House.
Bel.
Why I will, I will, push that you are so strange now
adayes: but it is an old said saw, Honors change Manners.
Frisc.
Good-man Buttericke will you walke afore:
Come honest Friends, will yee goe to our House?
Ouy monsieur Frisco.
Alua.
Si signor Frisco.
Enter Uandalle.
Uand.
Oh de skellam Frisco, ic weit neit waer dat ic be,
ic goe and hit my nose op dit post, and ic goe and hit my
nose op danden post; Oh de villaine: Well, waer bon ic
now? Haw laet syen is dut neit croshe vrier, ya seker so ist
and dit M. Pisaros huis: Oh de good shaunce, well ic sall
now haue de Wenshe Laurentia, mestris Laurentia.
Enter Laurentia, Marina, Mathea, aboue.
Mari.
Who's there, Maister Haruie?
Math.
Maister Walgraue?
Laur.
Maister Heigham?
Uand.
Ya my Louue, here be mester Heigham your
groot frinde.
Mari.
How, Maister Heigham my grot vrinde?
Out alas, here's one of the Strangers.
Lauren.
Peace you Mammet, let's see which it is; wee
may chaunce teach him a strange tricke for his learning:
M. Heigham, what wind driues you to our house so late?
Vand.
Oh my leif Mesken, de loue tolv be so groot, dat
het bring me out my bed voor you.
Math.
Ha, ha, we know the Asse by his eares; it is the
Dutchman: what shall we doe with him?
Laure.
Peace, let him not know, that you are heere: M.
Heigham, if you will stay awhile that I may se, if my Father
be a sleepe, and Ile make meanes we may come togeather
Uand.
Dat salick my Loua. Is dit no well counterfett
I speake so like mester Heigham as tis possible.
Laure.
Well, what shall we doe with this Lubber?
(Louer I should say.)
Math.
What shall wee doe with him?
Why crowne him with a—
Mari.
Fie Slutt: No, wele vse him clenlier; you know
we haue neuer a Signe at the dore, would not the iest proue
currant, to make the Dutchman supply that want.
Laure.
Nay, the foole wil cry out, & so wake my father.
Mat.
Why, then wele cut the Rope & cast him downe.
Laur.
And so iest out a hanging; let's rather draw him vp
in the Basket, and so starue him to death this frosty night.
Mari.
In sadnesse, well aduisde: Sister, doe you holde
him in talke, and weele prouide it whilst.
Laur.
Goe to then. M. Heigham, oh sweete M Higham,
doth my Father thinke that his vnkindnes can part you &
poore Laurentia? No, no, I haue found a drift to bring you
to my Chamber, if you haue but the heart to venter it.
Vand.
Ventre, salick goe to de see, and be de see, and ore
de see and in de see voer my sweete Louue.
Laur.
Then you dare goe into a Basket; for I know no
other meanes to inioy your companie, then so: for my Father
hath the Keyes of the Dore.
Vand.
Salick climb vp tot you? sal ick fly vp tot you?
salick, wat segdy?
Math.
Bid him doe it Sister, wee shall see his cunning.
Laur.
Oh no, so you may catch a fal. There M. Heigham,
Put your selfe into that Basket, and I will draw you vp:
But no words I pray you, for feare my Sister heare you.
Vand.
No, no; no word: Oh de seete Wenshe, Ick come,
Ick come.
Laur.
Are you ready maister Heigham?
Vand.
Ia ick my sout Lady.
Mari.
Merily then my Wenches.
Laur.
How heauie the Asse is: Maister Heigham, is there
any in the Basket but your selfe?
Vand.
Neit, neit, dare be no man.
Laur.
Are you vp sir?
Vand.
Neit, neit.
Mari.
Nor neuer are you like to climbe more higher:
Sisters, the Woodcock's caught, the Foole is cag'd.
Vand.
My sout Lady I be nuc neit vp, pul me to tv.
Math.
When can you tell; what maister Uandalle,
Thus to be ouer reach'd by three young Girles:
Ah sirra now weele bragge with Mistres Moore,
To haue as fine a Parret as she hath,
Looke sisters what a pretty foole it is:
What a greene greasie shyning Coate he hath,
An Almonde for Parret, a Rope for Parret.
Uand.
Doe you moc que me seger seger,
I sal seg your vader.
Laur.
Doe and you dare, you see here is your fortune,
Disquiet not my father; if you doe,
Ile send you with a vengeance to the ground,
Well we must confesse we trouble you,
And ouer watching makes a wiseman madde,
Much more a foole, theres a Cushon for you.
Mar.
To bore you through the nose.
Laur.
To lay your head on.
Couch in your Kennell sleape and fall to rest,
And so good night for London maydes skorne still,
A Dutch-man should be seene to curbe their will.
Uand.
Hort ye Daughter, hort ye? gods se ker kin? will
ye no let me come tot you? ick bid you let me come tot you
watt salick don, ick woud neit vor vn hundred pounde
Aluaro & Delion , should seeme ope dit maner, well wat sal
ick don, ick mout neit cal: vor de Wenshes wil cut de rope
and breake my necke; ick sal here bleauen til de morning,
& dan ick sal cal to mester Pisaro, & make him shafe & strite
his dauctors: Oh de skellum Frisco, Oh des cruell Hores.
Enter Pisaro.
Pisa.
Ile put the Light out, least I be espied,
For closely I haue stolne me foorth a doares,
That I might know, how my three Sonnes haue sped.
Now (afore God) my heart is passing light,
That I haue ouerreach'd the Englishmen:
Will swage your bigg swolne bulke, and make it lancke:
When I was young; yet though my Haires be gray,
I haue a Young mans spirit to the death,
And can as nimbly trip it with a Girle,
As those which fold the spring-tide in their Beards:
Lord how the verie thought of former times,
Supples these neere dried limbes with actiuenesse:
Well, thoughts are shaddowes, sooner lost then seene,
Now to my Daughters, and their merrie night,
I hope Aluaro and his companie,
Haue read to them morrall Philosophie,
And they are full with it: Heere Ile stay,
And tarry till my gallant youths come foorth.
Enter Haruie, Walgraue, and Heigham.
Heigh.
You mad-man, wild-oats, mad-cap, where art thou?
Walg.
Heere afore.
Haru.
Oh ware what loue is? Ned hath found the scent;
And if the Connie chaunce to misse her Burrough,
Shee's ouer-borne yfayth, she cannot stand it.
Pisa.
I know that voyce, or I am much deceiued.
Heigh.
Come, why loyter wee? this is the Dore:
But soft, heere's one asleepe.
Walg.
Come, let mee feele:
Oh tis some Rogue or other; spurne him, spurne him.
Haru.
Be not so wilfull, prethee let him lie.
Heigh.
Come backe, come backe, for wee are past the house,
Yonder's Matheas Chamber with the light.
Pisa.
Well fare a head, or I had been discride.
Gods mee, what make the Youngsters heere so late?
I am a Rouge, and spurne him: well lacke sauce,
The Rogue is waking yet, to marre your sport.
Walg.
Matt, Mistris Mathea; where be these Girles?
Math.
VVho's there below?
Walg.
Thy Ned, kind Ned, thine honest trusty Ned.
Math.
No, no, it is the Frenchman in his stead,
That Mounsieur motlicoate that can dissemble:
Heare you Frenchman, packe to your Whores in Fraunce;
Though I am Portingale by the Fathers side,
And therefore should be lustfull, wanton, light;
Yet goodman Goosecap, I will let you know,
That I haue so much English by the Mother,
That no bace slauering French shall make me stoope:
And so, sir Dan-delion fare you well.
Walg.
What speachlesse, not a word: why how now Ned?
Har.
The Wench hath tane him downe,
He hanges his head.
Walg.
You Dan-de-lion, you that talke so well:
Harke you a word or two good Mistris Matt,
Did you appoynt your Friends to meete you heere,
And being come, tell vs of Whores in Fraunce,
A Spanish lennet, and an English Mare,
A Mongrill, halfe a Dogge and halfe a Bitch;
VVith Tran-dido, Dil-dido, and I know not what?
Heare you, if you'le run away with Ned,
And be content to take me as you find me,
VVhy so law, I am yours: if otherwise,
Youle change your Ned, to be a Frenchmans Trull?
VVhy then, Madame Delion, Ie vous lassera a Dio, et la
bon fortune.
Math.
That voyce assures mee, that it is my Loue:
Say truly, Art thou my Ned? art thou my Loue?
Walg.
Swounds who should I be but Ned?
You make me sweare.
Enter aboue Marina.
Mari.
Who speake you to? Mathea who's below?
Haru.
Marina.
Young maister Haruy? for that voyce saith so.
Enter Laurentia.
Alua.
Speake sister Matt, is not my true Loue there?
Math.
Ned is.
Laur.
Not maister Heigham?
Heigh.
Laurentia, heere.
Laur.
Yfayth thou'rt welcome.
Heigh.
Better cannot Fall.
Math.
Sweete, so art thou.
Mari.
As much to mine.
Laur.
Nay Gentles, welcome all.
Pisa.
Here's cunning harlotries, they feed these off
With welcome, and kind words, whilst other Lads
Reuell in that delight they should possesse:
Good Girls, I promise you I like you well.
Mari.
Say maister Haruy, saw you, as you came,
That Leacher, which my Sire appoynts my man;
I meane that wanton base Italian,
That Spannish-leather spruce companion:
That anticke Ape trickt vp in fashion?
Had the Asse come, I'de learne him, difference been
Betwixt an English Gentleman and him.
Heigh.
How would you vse him (sweete).
If he should come?
Mari.
Nay nothing (sweet) but only wash his crowne:
Why the Asse wooes in such an amorous key,
That he presumes no Wench should say him nay:
Hee slauers not his Fingers, wipes his Bill,
And sweares in fayth you shall, in fayth I will;
That I am almost madd to bide his woeing.
Heigh.
Looke what he said in word, Ile act in doing.
Walg.
Leaue thought of him, for day steales on apace,
And to our Loues: Will you performe your words;
All things are ready, and the Parson stands,
Night fauours vs, the thing is quickly done,
Then trusse vp bagg and Bagages, and be gone:
And ere the morninge, to augment your ioyes,
Weele make you mothers of sixe goodly Boyes.
Heigh.
Promise them three good Ned, and say no more.
Walg.
But Ile get three, and if I gette not foure.
Pisa.
Theres a sound Carde at Maw, a lustie lad,
Your father thought him well, when one he had,
Heigh.
What say you sweetes, will you performe your
wordes?
Matt.
Loue to true loue, no lesser meede affordes?
Wee say we loue you, and that loues fayre breath
Shall lead vs with you round about the Earth:
And that our loues, vowes, wordes, may all proue true,
Prepare your Armes, for thus we flie to you.
they Embrace.
Walg.
This workes like waxe, now ere to morrow day,
If you two ply it but as well as I,
Weele worke our landes out of Pisaros Daughters:
And cansell all our bondes in their great Bellies,
When the slaue knowes it, how the Roge will curse.
Matt.
Sweete hart.
Walg.
Matt.
Mathe.
Where art thou.
Pisa.
Here.
Mathe.
Oh Iesus heres our father.
Walg.
The Diuell he is.
Haru
Maister Pisaro, twenty times God morrow.
Pisa,
Good morrow? now I tell you Gentlemen.
You wrong and moue my patience ouermuch,
What will you Rob me, Kill me, Cutte my Throte:
And set mine owne bloud here against me too,
You huswifes? Baggages? or what is worse,
Wilfull, stoubborne, disobedient:
Vse it not Gentlemen, abuse me not,
Heigh.
Be not so testie, heare what we can say.
Pisa.
Will you be win'de? first learne to keepe a wife,
Learne to be thrifte, learne to keepe your Lands,
And learne to pay your debts to, I aduise, else.
Walg.
What else, what Lands, what Debts, what will
you doe?
Nay since tis so, we owe you not a Penny,
Frette not, Fume not, neuer bende the Browe:
You take Tenn in the hundred more then Law,
We can complayne, extortion, simony,
Newgate hath Rome, thers Law enough in England.
Heigh.
Prethe haue done.
Walg.
Prethy me no Prethies.
Here is my wife, Sbloud touch her, if thou darst,
Hearst thou, Ile lie with her before thy face,
Against the Crosse in Cheape, here, any where,
What you old craftie Fox you.
Heigh.
Ned, stop there.
Pisa.
Nay, nay speake out, beare witnesse Gentlemen,
Whers Mowche, charge my Musket, bring me my Bill,
For here are some that meane to Rob thy maister.
Enter Anthony.
[Antho.]
I am a Fox with you, well Iack sawce,
Beware least for a Goose, I pray on you.
Exeunt Pisaro and Daughters.
In baggages, Mowche make fast the doore.
Walg.
A vengeance on ill lucke,
Antho.
What neuer storme,
But bridle anger with wise gouernment.
Heigh.
Whom? Anthony our friend, Ah now our hopes,
Antho.
Tut nere say so, for Anthony
Is not deuoyde of meanes to helpe his Friends.
Walg.
Swounds, what a diuell made he foorth so late
Ile lay my life twas hee that fainde to sleepe,
And we all vnsuspitious, tearmde a Roage:
Oh God, had I but knowne him; if I had,
I would haue writt such Letters with my Sword
Vpon the bald skin of his parching pate,
That he should nere haue liude to crosse vs more.
Antho.
These menaces are vaine, and helpeth naught:
But I haue in the deapth of my conceit
Found out a more materiall stratagem:
Harke Maister Walgraue, yours craues quicke dispatch,
About it straight, stay not to say farewell.
Exit Walgraue.
You Maister Heigham, hie you to your Chamber,
And stirre not foorth, my shaddow, or my selfe,
Will in the morning earely visit you;
Build on my promise sir, and good night.
Exit Heigham.
Last, yet as great in loue, as to the first:
Yf you remember, once I told a iest,
How feigning to be sicke, a Friend of mine
Possest the happy issue of his Loue:
That counterfeited humor must you play;
I need not to instruct, you can conceiue,
Vse maister Browne your Host, as chiefe in this:
But first, to make the matter seeme more true,
Sickly and sadly bid the churle good night;
I heare him at the Window, there he is.
Enter Pisaro aboue.
Now for a tricke to ouerreach the Diuell.
I tell you sir, you wrong my maister much,
And then to make amends, you giue hard words:
H'ath been a friend to you; nay more, a Father:
I promise you, tis most vngently done.
I, well said Mouche, now I see thy loue,
And thou shalt see mine, one day if I liue.
None but my Daughters sir, hanges for your tooth:
I'de rather see them hang'd first, ere you get them.
Haru.
Maister Pisaro, heare a dead man speake,
Who singes the wofull accents of his end.
I doe confesse I loue; then let not loue
Proue the sad engine of my liues remooue:
Marinaes rich Possession was my blisse?
Then in her losse, all ioy eclipsed is:
As euery Plant takes vertue of the Sunne;
So from her Eyes, this life and beeing sprung:
But now debard of those cleare shyning Rayes,
Death for Earth gapes, and Earth to Death obeyes:
Each word thou spakst, (oh speake not so againe)
Bore Deaths true image on the Word ingrauen;
Which as it flue mixt with Heauens ayerie breath,
Summond the dreadfull Sessions of my death:
I leaue thee to thy wish, and may th'euent
Prooue equall to thy hope and hearts content.
Marina to that hap, that happiest is;
My Body to the Graue, my Soule to blisse.
Haue I done well?
Exit Haruie.
Antho.
Excellent well in troth.
Pisar.
I, goe; I, goe: your words moue me as much,
As doth a Stone being cast against the ayre.
But soft, What Light is that? What Folkes be those? Oh tis
Aluaro & his other Friends, Ile downe & let them in.
Exit.
Enter Belman, Frisco, Vandalle, Delion, & Aluaro.
Frisc.
Where are we now gaffer Buttericke?
Bell.
Why know you not Croched-friers, where be your wits?
Aluar.
Wat be tis Crosh-viers? vidite padre dare; tacke
you dat, me sal troble you no farre.
Bell.
I thanke you Gentlemen, good night:
Good night Frisco.
Exit Belman.
Farewell Buttericke, what a Clowne it is:
Come on my maisters merrily, Ile knocke at the dore.
Antho.
Who's theere, our three wise Woers,
Blockhead our man? had he not been,
They might haue hanged them selues,
For any Wenches they had hit vpon:
Good morrow, or good den, I know not whether.
Delio.
Monsieur de Mowche, wat macke you out de
Houis so late?
Enter Pisaro below.
Pisa.
What, what, young men & sluggards? fy for shame
You trifle time at home about vaine toyes,
Whilst others in the meane time, steale your Brides:
I tell you sir, the English Gentlemen
Had wel-ny mated you, and mee, and all;
The Dores were open, and the Girles abroad,
Their Sweet-hearts ready to receiue them to:
And gone forsooth they had been, had not I
(I thinke by reuelation) stopt their flight:
But I haue coopt them vp, and so will keepe them.
But sirra Frisco, where's the man I sent for?
VVhose Cloake haue you got there?
How now, where's Uandalle?
Frisc.
For-sooth he is not heere:
Maister Mendall you meane, doe you not?
Pisar.
VVhy logerhead, him I sent for, where is he?
VVhere hast thou been? How hast thou spent thy time?
Did I not send thee to my Sonne Vandalle?
Frisc.
I M. Mendall; why forsooth I was at his Chamber,
and wee were comming hitherward, and he was very
hot, and bade me carry his Cloake; and I no sooner had it,
but he (being very light) firkes me downe on the left hand,
and I turnd downe on the left hand, and so lost him.
Pisa.
VVhy then you turnd togeather, Asse.
Frisc.
No sir, we neuer saw one another since.
VVhy, turnd you not both on the left hand?
Frisc.
No for-sooth we turnd both on the left hand.
Pisa.
Hoyda, why yet you went both togeather.
Fris.
Ah no, we went cleane contrary one from another.
Pisa.
VVhy Dolt, why Patch, why Asse,
On which hand turnd yee?
Frisc.
Alas, alas, I can not tell for-sooth, it was so darke
I could not see, on which hand we turnd: But I am sure we
turnd one way.
Pisa.
VVas euer creature plagud with such a Dolt?
My Sonne Vandalle now hath lost himselfe;
And shall all night goe straying bout the Towne;
Or meete with some strange Watch that knowes him not;
And all by such an arrant Asse as this.
Anth.
No, no, you may soone smel the Dutchmans lodging:
Now for a Figure: Out alas, what's yonder?
Pisa.
VVhere?
Fris.
Hoyda, hoyda, a Basket: it turnes, hoe.
Pisa.
Peace ye Villaine, and let's see who's there?
Goe looke about the House; where are our weapons?
VVhat might this meane?
Frisc.
Looke, looke, looke; there's one in it, he peeps out:
Is there nere a Stone here to hurle at his Nose.
Pisa.
VVhat, wouldst thou breake my VVindowes
with a Stone? How now, who's there, who are you sir?
Frisc.
Looke, he peepes out againe: Oh it's M. Mendall,
it's M. Mendall: how got he vp thither?
Pisa.
What, my Sonne Vandalle, how comes this to passe?
Alua.
Signor Vandalle, wat do yo goe to de wenshe in de
Basket?
Vand.
Oh Vadere, Vadere, here be sush cruell Dochterkens,
ick ben also wery, also wery, also cold; for be in dit
little Basket: lo prey helpe dene.
Frisc.
He lookes like the signe of the Mouth without
Bishops gate, gaping, and a great Face, and a great Head,
and no Body.
Pisa.
Why how now Sonne, what haue your Adamants
Drawne you vp so farre, and there left you hanging
Twixt Heauen and Earth like Mahomets Sepulchre?
Antho.
They did vnkindly, who so ere they were,
That plagu'd him here, like Tantalus in Hell,
To touch his Lippes like the desired Fruite,
And then to snatch it from his gaping Chappes.
Alua.
A little farder signor Vandalle, and dan you may
put v hed into de windo and cash de Wensh.
Vand.
Ick prey Vader dat you help: de mee, Ick prey
Goddie Vader.
Pisa.
Helpe you, but how?
Frisc.
Cut the Rope.
Antho.
Sir, Ile goe in and see,
And if I can, Ile let him downe to you.
Exit Anthony.
Pisa.
Doe gentle Mouche: Why but here's a iest;
They say, high climers haue the greatest falles:
If you should fall; as how youle doe I know not,
Birlady I should doubt me of my Sonne:
Pray to the Rope to hold: Art thou there Mouche?
Enter Anthony aboue.
Antho.
Yes sir, now you may chuse, whether youle stay
till I let him downe, or whether I shall cut him downe?
Frisc.
Cut him downe maister Mowse, cut him downe
And let's see, how hele tumble.
Pisa.
Why sauce, who ask'd your counsaile?
Let him downe.
What, with a Cushion too? why you prouided
To lead your life as did Diogines;
And for a Tubb, to creepe into a Basket.
Vanda.
Ick sall seg. v Vader, Ick quame here to your
Huise and spreake tol de Dochterken.
Frisc.
M. Mendall, you are welcome out of the Basket:
I smell a Ratt it was not for nothing, that you lost me.
Oh skellum, you run away from me.
Pisa.
I thought so sirra, you gaue him the slip.
Frisc.
Faw, no for-sooth; Ile tell you how it was: when
we come from Bucklers-Burie into Corn-Wale, and I had
taken the Cloake, then you should haue turnd downe on
your left hand and so haue gone right forward, and so
turnd vp againe, and so haue crost the streate; and you like
an Asse.
Pisa.
Why how now Rascall; is your manners such?
You asse, you Dolt, why led you him through Corn-hill,
Your way had been to come through Canning streete.
Frisc.
Why so I did sir.
Pisa.
Why thou seest yee were in Corn-Hill.
Fris.
Indeed sir there was three faults, the Night was
darke, Maister Mendall drunke, and I sleepy, that we could
not tell very well, which way we went.
Pisa.
Sirra I owe for this a Cudgelling:
But Gentlemen, sith things haue faulne out so,
And for I see Uandalle quakes for cold,
This night accept your Lodginges in my house,
And in the morning forward with your marriage,
Come on my sonnes, sirra fetch vp more wood.
Exeunt.
Enter the three Sisters.
Laur.
Nay neuer weepe Marina for the matter,
Teares are but signes of sorrow, helping not.
Mari.
Would it not madde one to be crost as I,
Being in the very hight of my desire?
The strangers frustrate all: our true loue's come,
Nay more, euen at the doore, and Haruies armes
Spred as a Rayne-bow ready to receiue me,
And then my Father meete vs: Oh God, oh God.
Math.
Weepe who that list for me, y fayth not I,
Though I am youngest yet my stomack's great:
Nor tis not father, friends, nor any one,
Shall make me wed the man I cannot loue:
Laur.
Let vs determine Sisters what to doe,
My father meanes to wed vs in the morning,
And therefore something must be thought vpon.
Mari.
Weele to our father and so know his minde,
I and his reason too, we are no fooles,
Or Babes neither, to be fedde with words.
Laur.
Agreede, agreede: but who shall speake for all?
Math.
I will.
Mari.
No I.
Laur.
Thou wilt not speake for crying.
Mari.
Yes, yes I warrant you, that humors left,
Bee I but mou'de a little, I shall speake,
And anger him I feare, ere I haue done.
Enter Anthony.
All.
Whom Anthony our friend, our Schoole-maister?
Now helpe vs Gentle Anthony, or neuer.
Antho.
What is your hastie running chang'd to prayer,
Say, where were you going?
Laur.
Euen to our father,
To know what he intendes to doe with vs.
Antho.
Tis bootlesse trust mee, for he is resolu'd
To marry you to.
Mari.
The Strangers.
Antho.
Yfayth he is.
Math.
Yfayth he shall not.
Frenchman, be sure weele plucke a Crow together,
Before you force mee giue my hand at Church.
Mari.
Come to our Father speach this comfort finds,
That we may scould out griefe, and ease our mindes.
Anth.
Stay, Stay Marina, and aduise you better,
It is not Force, but Pollicie must serue:
The Dores are lockt, your Father keepes the Keye,
Wherefore vnpossible to scape away:
Yet haue I plotted, and deuis'd a drift,
And giue you full possession of your ioyes:
Laurentia, ere the mornings light appeare,
You must play Anthony in my disguise.
Math., Mari.
Anthony, what of vs? What shall we weare?
Anth.
Soft, soft, you are too forward Girles, I sweare,
For you some other drift deuisd must bee?
One shaddow for a substance: this is shee.
Nay weepe not sweetes, repose vpon my care,
For all alike, or good or bad shall share:
You will haue Haruie, you Heigham, and you Ned;
You shall haue all your wish, or be I dead:
For sooner may one day the Sea lie still,
Then once restraine a Woman of her will.
All.
Sweete Anthony, how shall we quit thy hire?
Anth.
Not gifts, but your contentments I desire:
To helpe my Countrimen I cast about,
For Strangers loues blase fresh, but soone burne out:
Sweete rest dwell heere, and frightfull feare obiure,
These eyes shall wake to make your rest secure:
For ere againe dull night the dull eyes charmes,
Each one shall fould her Husband in her armes:
Which if it chaunce, we may auouch it still,
Women & Maydes will alwayes haue their will.
Exeunt.
Enter Pisaro and Frisco.
Pisa.
Are Wood & Coales brought vp to make a fire?
Is the Meate spitted ready to lie downe:
For Bakemeates Ile haue none, the world's too hard:
There's Geese too, now I remember mee;
Bid Mawdlin lay the Giblets in Past,
Here's nothing thought vpon, but what I doe.
Stay Frisco, see who ringes: looke to the Dore,
Let none come in I charge, were he my Father,
Ile keepe them whilst I haue them: Frisco, who is it?
Frisc.
She is come ynfayth.
Who is come?
Frisc.
Mistris Susnaunce, Mistris Moores daughter.
Pisa.
Mistris Susan, Asse? Oh she must come in.
Frisc.
Hang him, if he keepe out a Wench:
Yf the Wench keepe not out him, so it is.
Enter Walgraue in Womans attire.
Pisa.
Welcome Mistris Susan, welcome;
I little thought you would haue come to night;
But welcome (trust me) are you to my house:
What, doth your Mother mende? doth she recouer?
I promise you I am sorry for her sicknesse.
Walg.
She's better then she was, I thanke God for it,
Pisa.
Now afore God she is a sweete smugge Girle,
One might doe good on her; the flesh is frayle,
Man hath infirmitie, and such a Bride,
Were able to change Age to hot desire:
Harke you Sweet-heart,
To morrow are my Daughters to be wedde,
I pray you take the paines to goe with them.
Walg.
If sir youle giue me leaue, Ile waight on them.
Pisa.
Yes marry shall you, and a thousand thankes,
Such company as you my Daughters want,
Maydes must grace Maydes, when they are married:
Ist not a merry life (thinkes thou) to wed,
For to imbrace, and be imbrac'd abed.
Walg.
I know not what you meane sir.
Heere's an old Ferret Pol-cat.
Pisa.
You may doe, if youle follow mine aduice;
I tell thee Mouse, I knew a Wench as nice:
Well, shee's at rest poore soule, I meane my Wife,
That thought (alas good heart) Loue was a toy,
Vntill (well, that time is gon and past away)
But why speake I of this: Harke yee Sweeting,
There's more in Wedlocke, then the name can shew;
And yet take heed Wench, there lyes a Pad in Straw;
Walg.
Old Fornicator, had I my Dagger,
Ide breake his Costard.
Pisa.
Young men are slippery, fickle, wauering;
Constant abiding graceth none but Age:
Then Maydes should now waxe wise, and doe so,
As to chuse constant men, let fickle goe,
Youth's vnregarded, and vnhonoured:
An auncient Man doth make a Mayde a Matron:
And is not that an Honour, how say you? how say you?
Walg.
Yes forsooth.
(Oh old lust will you neuer let me goe.)
Pisa.
You say right well, and doe but thinke thereon,
How Husbands, honored yeares, long card-for wealth,
Wise stayednesse, Experient gouernment,
Doth grace the Mayde, that thus is made a Wife,
And you will wish your selfe such, on my life.
Walg.
I thinke I must turne woman kind altogeather,
And scratch out his eyes:
For as long as he can see me, hele nere let me goe.
Pisa.
But goe (sweet-heart) to bed, I doe thee wrong,
The latenesse now, makes all our talke seeme long.
Enter Anthony.
How now Mowche, be the Girles abed?
Anth.
Mathea (and it like you) faine would sleepe,
but onely tarrieth for her bed-fellow.
Pisa.
Ha, you say well: come, light her to her Chamber,
Good rest wish I to thee; wish so to mee,
Then Susan and Pisaro shall agree:
Thinke but what ioy is neere your bed-fellow,
Such may be yours; take counsaile of your Pillow:
To morrow weele talke more; and so good night,
Thinke what is sayd, may bee, if all hit right.
What, haue I past the Pikes: knowes he not Ned?
I thinke I haue deseru'd his Daughters bed.
Anth.
Tis well, tis well: but this let me request,
You keepe vnknowne, till you be laide to rest:
And then a good hand speed you.
Walg.
Tut, nere feare mee,
We two abed shall neuer disagree.
Exeunt Antho. & Walg.
Frisc.
I haue stood still all this while, and could not
speake for laughing: Lord what a Dialogue hath there bin
betweene Age and Youth. You do good on her? euen as
much as my Dutchman will doe on my young Mistris:
Maister, follow my counsaile; then send for M. Heigham
to helpe him, for Ile lay my Cappe to two Pence, that hee
will be asleepe to morrow at night, when he should goe to
bed to her: Marry for the Italian, he is of an other humor,
for there le be no dealings with him, till midnight; for hee
must slauer all the Wenches in the house at parting, or he is
no body: hee hath been but a litle while at our House, yet
in that small time, hee hath lickt more Grease from our
Mawdlins lippes, then would haue seru'd London Kitchin-stuffe
this tweluemonth. Yet for my money, well fare the
Frenchman, Oh hee is a forward Lad, for heele no sooner
come from the Church, but heele fly to the Chamber; why
heele read his Lesson so often in the day time, that at night
like an apt Scholler, heele be ready to sell his old Booke to
buye him a new. Oh the generation of Languages that
our House will bring foorth: why euery Bedd will haue a
propper speach to himselfe, and haue the Founders name
written vpon it in faire Cappitall letters, Heere lay, and so
foorth.
Pisa.
Youle be a villaine still: Looke who's at dore?
Frisc.
Nay by the Masse, you are M. Porter, for Ile be
hang'd if you loose that office, hauing so pretty a morsell
vnder your keeping: I goe (old huddle) for the best Nose
at smelling out a Pin-fold, that I know: well, take heede,
you may happes picke vp Wormes so long, that at length
some of them get into your Nose, and neuer out after: But
what an Asse am I to thinke so, considering all the Lodginges
are taken vp already, and there's not a Dog-kennell
empty for a strange Worme to breed in.
Enter Anthony.
Antho.
The day is broke; Mathea and young Ned,
By this time, are so surely linckt togeather,
That none in London can forbid the Banes.
Laurentia she is neere prouided for:
So that if Haruies pollicie but hold,
Elce-wheare the Strangers may goe seeke them Wiues:
But heere they come.
Enter Pisaro and Browne.
Pisa.
Six a clocke say you; trust mee, forward dayes:
Harke you Mowche, hie you to Church,
Bid M. Bewford be in readinesse:
Where goe you, that way?
Anth.
For my Cloake, sir.
Pisa.
Oh tis well: and M. Browne,
Trust mee, your earely stirring makes me muse,
Is it to mee your businesse?
Brown.
Euen to your selfe:
I come (I thinke) to bring you welcome newes,
Pisa.
And welcome newes,
More welcome makes the bringer:
Speake, speake, good M. Browne, I long to heare them.
Brow.
Then this it is. Young Haruie late last night,
Full weake and sickly came vnto his lodging,
From whence this suddaine mallady proceedes:
Tis all vncertaine, the Doctors and his Friends
Affirme his health is vnrecouerable:
Young Heigham and Ned Walgraue lately left him,
And I came hither to informe you of it.
Pisa.
Young M. Haruie sicke; now afore God
The newes bites neere the Bone: for should he die,
His Liuing morgaged would be redeemed,
Die now, marry God in heauen defend it;
Oh my sweete Lands, loose thee, nay loose my life:
And which is worst, I dare not aske mine owne,
For I take two and twenty in the hundred,
When the Law giues but ten: But should he liue,
Hee carelesse would haue left the debt vnpaide,
Then had the Lands been mine Pisaros owne,
Mine, mine owne Land, mine owne Possession.
Brow.
Nay heare mee out.
Pisa.
You'r out too much already,
Vnlesse you giue him life, and mee his Land.
Brow.
Whether tis loue to you, or to your Daughter,
I know not certaine; but the Gentleman
Hath made a deed of gift of all his Lands,
Vnto your beautious Daughter faire Marina.
Pesa.
Ha, say that word againe, say it againe,
A good thing cannot be too often spoken:
Marina say you, are you sure twas shee,
Or Mary, Margery; or some other Mayde?
Brow.
To none but your Daughter faire Marina,
And for the gift might be more forcible,
Your neighbour maister Moore aduised vs,
(Who is a witnesse of young Haruies Will)
Sicke as hee is, to bring him to your house:
I know they are not farre, but doe attende,
That they may know, what welcome they shall haue.
Pisa.
What welcome sir; as welcome as new life
Giuen to the poore condemned Prisoner:
Returne (good maister Browne) assure their welcome,
Say it, nay sweare it; for they'r welcome truly:
For welcome are they to mee which bring Gold.
See downe who knockes; it may be there they are:
Frisco, call downe my Sonnes, bid the Girles rise:
Where's Mowche; what, is he gon or no?
Oh heare you sirra, bring along with you
Maister Balsaro the Spanish Marchant.
Laur.
Many Balsaros I; Ile to my Loue:
And thankes to Anthony for this escape.
Pisa.
Stay, take vs with you. Harke, they knocke againe,
Come my soules comfort, thou good newes bringer,
I must needes hugge thee euen for pure affection.
Enter Haruie brought in a Chaire, Moore, Browne, Aluaro, Vandalle, Delion, and Frisco.
Pisa.
Lift softly (good my friends) for hurting him.
Looke chearely sir, you'r welcome to my house.
Harke M. Vandalle, and my other Sonnes,
Seeme to be sad as grieuing for his sicknesse,
But inwardly reioyce. Maister Uandalle,
Signor Aluaro, Monsieur Delion,
Bid my Friend welcome, pray bid him welcome:
Take a good heart; I doubt not (by Gods leaue)
You shall recouer and doe well enough:
(Yf I should thinke so, I should hange my selfe.)
Frisco, goe bid Marina come to mee.
Exit Frisco.
You are a Witnesse sir, of this mans Will:
What thinke you M. Moore, what say you to't?
Moor.
Maister Pisaro, follow mine aduice:
You see the Gentleman cannot escape,
Then let him straight be wedded to your Daughter;
So during life time, she shall hold his Land,
When now (beeing nor kith nor kin to him)
For all the deed of Gift, that he hath seald,
His younger Brother will inioy the Land.
Pisa.
Marry my Daughter: no birlady.
Heare you Aluaro, my Friend counsaile mee,
Seeing young M. Haruie is so sicke,
Or else the gift he hath bestowde, is vaine:
Marry and hee recouer; no my Sonne,
I will not loose thy loue, for all his Land.
Alua.
Here you padre, do no lose his Lands, his hundred
pont per anno tis wort to hauar; let him haue de matresse
Marina in de mariage, tis but vor me to attendre vne
day more: if he will no die, I sal giue him sush a Drincke,
sush a Potion sal mak him giue de Bonos noches to all de
world.
Pisa.
Aluaro, here's my Keyes, take all I haue,
My Money, Plate, Wealth, Iewels, Daughter too:
Now God be thanked, that I haue a Daughter,
worthy to be Aluaroes bedfellow:
Oh how I doe admire and prayse thy wit,
Ile straight about it: Heare you Maister Moore.
Enter Marina and Frisco.
Frisc.
Nay fayth hee's sicke, therefore though hee be
come, yet he can doe you no good; there's no remedy but
euen to put your selfe into the hands of the Italian, that by
that time that he hath past his grouth, young Haruie will
be in case to come vpon it with a sise of fresh force.
Mari.
Is my Loue come, & sicke? I, now thou louest me,
How my heart ioyes: Oh God, get I my will,
Ile driue away that Sicknesse with a kisse:
I need not faine, for I could weepe for ioy.
Pisa.
It shall be so; come hither Daughter.
Maister Haruie, that you may see my loue
Comes from a single heart vnfaynedly,
See heere my Daughter, her I make thine owne:
Nay looke not strange, before these Gentlemen,
I freely yeeld Marina for thy Wife.
Haru.
Stay, stay good sir, forbeare this idle worke,
My soule, is labouring for a higher place,
What, would you wed your Daughter to a Graue?
For this is but Deaths modell in mans shape:
You and Aluaro happie liue togeather:
Happy were I, to see you liue togeather.
Pisa.
Come sir, I trust you shall doe well againe:
Heere, heere, it must be so; God giue you ioy,
And blesse you (not a day to liue togeather.)
Vand.
Hort ye broder, will ye let den ander heb your
Wiue? nempt haer, nempt haer your selue?
Alua.
No, no; tush you be de foole, here be dat sal spoyle
de mariage of hem: you haue deceue me of de fine Wensh
signor Haruey, but I sal deceue you of de mush Land.
Haru.
Are all things sure Father, is all dispatch'd?
Pisa.
What intrest we haue, we yeeld it you:
Are you now satisfied, or restes there ought?
Haru.
Nay Father, nothing doth remaine, but thankes:
Thankes to your selfe first, that disdayning mee,
Yet loude my Lands, and for them gaue a Wife.
But next, vnto Aluaro let me turne,
To courtious gentle louing kind Aluaro,
That rather then to see me die for loue,
For very loue, would loose his beawtious Loue.
Vand.
Ha, ha, ha.
Deli.
Signor Aluaro, giue him de ting quickly sal make
hem dy, autremant you sal lose de fine Wensh.
Alua.
Oyime che hauesse allhora appressata la mano al mio
core, ô suen curato ate, I che longo sei tu arriuato, ô cieli, ô terra.
Pisa.
Am I awake? or doe deluding Dreames
Make that seeme true, which most my soule did feare?
Haru
Nay fayth Father, it's very certaine true,
I am as well as any man on earth:
Am I sicke sirres? Looke here, is Haruie sicke?
Pisa.
What shall I doe? What shall I say?
Did not you counsaile mee to wed my Childe?
Haru.
I hope more happy Starres will reigne to day,
And don Aluaro haue more company.
Enter Anthonie.
Antho.
Now Anthony, this cottens as it should,
And euery thing sorts to his wish'd effect:
Haruie ioyes Moll: my Dutchman and the French,
Thinking all sure, laughs at Aluaros hap;
But quickly I shall marre that merrie vaine,
And make your Fortunes equall with your Friends.
Pisa.
Sirra Mowche, what answere brought you backe?
Will maister Balsaro come, as I requested?
Anth.
Maister Balsaro; I know not who you meane.
Pisa.
Know you not Asse, did I not send thee for him?
Did not I bid thee bring him, with the Parson?
What answere made hee, will hee come or no?
Anth.
Sent me for him: why sir, you sent not mee,
I neither went for him, nor for the Parson:
I am glad to see your Worship is so merrie.
Knocke.
Pisa.
Hence you forgetfull dolt:
Looke downe who knockes?
Exit Antho.
Enter Frisco.
Frisc.
Oh Maister, hange your selfe: nay neuer stay for
a Sessions: Maister Vandalle confesse your selfe, desire the
people to pray for you; for your Bride shee is gone: Laurentia
is run away.
Vanda.
Oh de Diabolo, de mal-fortune: is matresse
Laurentia gaen awech?
Pisa.
First tell mee that I am a liuelesse coarse;
Tell mee of Doomes-day, tell mee what you will,
Before you say Laurentia is gone.
Mari.
Maister Vandalle, how doe you feele your selfe?
What, hang the head? fie man for shame I say,
Looke not so heauie on your marriage day.
Oh blame him not, his griefe is quickly spide,
That is a Bridegroome, and yet wants his Bride.
Enter Heigham, Laurentia, Balsaro, & Anthony.
Bals.
Maister Pisaro, and Gentlemen, good day to all:
According sir, as you requested mee,
This morne I made repaire vnto the Tower,
Where as Laurentia now was married:
And sir, I did expect your comming thither;
Yet in your absence, wee perform'd the rites:
Therefore I pray sir, bid God giue them ioy.
Heigh.
He tels you true, Laurentia is my Wife;
Who knowing that her Sisters must be wed;
Presuming also, that you'le bid her welcome,
Are come to beare them company to Church.
Haru.
You come too late, the Mariage rites are done:
Yet welcome twenty-fold vnto the Feast.
How say you sirs, did not I tell you true,
These Wenches would haue vs, and none of you.
Laur.
I cannot say for these; but on my life,
This loues a Cushion better then a Wife.
Mall.
And reason too, that Cushion fell out right,
Else hard had been his lodging all last night.
Bals.
Maister Pisaro, why stand you speachlesse thus?
Pisa.
Anger, and extreame griefe enforceth mee.
Pray sir, who bade you meete mee at the Tower?
Bals.
Who sir; your man sir, Mowche; here he is.
Anth.
Who I sir, meane you mee? you are a iesting man.
Pisa.
Thou art a Villaine, a dissembling Wretch,
Worser then Anthony whom I kept last:
Fetch me an Officer, Ile hamper you,
And make you sing at Bride-well for this tricke:
For well he hath deserude it, that would sweare
He went not foorth a dores at my appoyntment.
Anth.
So sweare I still, I went not foorth to day.
Why arrant lyer, wert thou not with mee?
Pisa.
How say you maister Browne, went he not foorth?
Brow.
Hee, or his likenesse did, I know not whether.
Pisa.
What likenesse can there be besides himselfe?
Laur.
My selfe (forsooth) that tooke his shape vpon me,
I was that Mowche that you sent from home:
And that same Mowche that deceiued you,
Effected to possesse this Gentleman:
Which to attaine, I thus be guil'd you all.
Frisc.
This is excellent, this is as fine as a Fiddle: you
M. Heigham got the Wench in Mowches apparell; now let
Mowche put on her apparell, and be married to the Dutchman:
How thinke you, is it not a good vize?
Moor.
Maister Pisaro, shake off melancholy,
When thinges are helpelesse, patience must be vs'd.
Pisa.
Talke of Patience? Ile not beare these wronges:
Goe call downe Matt, and mistris Susan Moore,
Tis well that of all three, wee haue one sure.
Moor.
Mistris Susan Moore, who doe you meane sir?
Pisa.
Whom should I meane sir, but your Daughter?
Moor.
You'r very pleasant sir: but tell me this,
When did you see her, that you speake of her?
Pisa.
I, late yester-night, when she came heere to bed.
Moor.
You are deceiu'd, my Daughter lay not heere,
But watch'd with her sicke mother all last night.
Pisa.
I am glad you are so pleasant M. Moore,
You'r loth that Susan should be held a sluggard:
What man, t'was late before she went to bed,
And therefore time enough to rise againe.
Moor.
Maister Pisaro, doe you floute your friends;
I well perceiue if I had troubled you,
I should haue had it in my dish ere now:
Susan lie heere? 'am sure when I came foorth,
I left her fast asleepe in bed at home;
Tis more then neighbour-hood to vse me thus.
A bed at your house? tell me I am madd,
Did not I let her in adores my selfe,
Spoke to her, talk'd with her, and canuast with her;
And yet she lay not heere? What say you sirra?
Antho.
She did, she did; I brought her to her Chamber.
Moor.
I say he lyes (that sayth so) in his throat.
Antho.
Masse now I remember me, I lye indeed.
Pisa.
Oh how this frets mee: Frisco, what say you?
Frisc.
What say I? Marry I say, if shee lay not heere,
there was a familiar in her likenesse; for I am sure my Maister
and she were so familiar togeather, that he had almost
shot the Gout out of his Toes endes, to make the Wench
beleeue he had one tricke of youth in him. Yet now I remember
mee shee did not lye heere; and the reason is, because
shee doth lye heere, and is now abed with mistris
Mathea; witnesse whereof, I haue set to my Hand & Seale,
and meane presently to fetch her.
Pisa.
Doe so Frisco. Gentlemen and Friends,
Now shall you see how I am wrong'd by him.
Lay shee not heere? I thinke the world's growne wise,
Plaine folkes (as I) shall not know how to liue.
Enter Frisco.
Frisc.
Shee comes, shee comes: a Hall, a Hall.
Enter Mathea, and Walgraue in Womans attire.
Walg.
Nay blush not wench, feare not, looke chearfully.
Good morrow Father; Good morrow Gentlemen:
Nay stare not, looke you heere, no monster I,
But euen plaine Ned: and heere stands Matt my Wife.
Know you her Frenchman? But she knowes me better.
Father, pray Father, let mee haue your blessing,
For I haue blest you with a goodly Sonne;
Tis breeding heere yfayth, a iolly Boy.
Pisa.
I am vndone, a reprobate, a slaue;
A scorne, a laughter, and a iesting stocke:
Giue mee my Child, giue mee my Daughter from you.
Maister Pisaro, tis in vaine to fret,
And fume, and storme, it little now auayles:
These Gentlemen haue with your Daughters helpe,
Outstript you in your subtile enterprises:
And therefore, seeing they are well descended,
Turne hate to loue, and let them haue their Loues,
Pisa.
Is it euen so; why then I see that still,
Doe what we can, Women will haue their Will.
Gentlemen, you haue outreacht mee now,
Which nere before you, any yet could doe:
You, that I thought should be my Sonnes indeed,
Must be content, since there's no hope to speed:
Others haue got, what you did thinke to gaine;
And yet beleeue mee, they haue tooke some paine.
Well, take them, there; and with them, God giue ioy.
And Gentlemen, I doe intreat to morrow,
That you will Feaste with mee, for all this sorrow:
Though you are wedded, yet the Feast's not made:
Come let vs in, for all the stormes are past,
And heapes of ioy will follow on as fast.
| English-men for my Money : Or A pleasant Comedy, called, A Woman will haue her Will | |