University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Penelope and Dol.
Pen.
How long, dear Dol, shall pensive Pen thus mourn
Her absent Spouse, and hope his safe Return!
Now more than nineteen rolling Years are pass'd,
Since these fond Arms entwin'd my Soldier last.
How hard is my uncommon Lot of Life,
Uncertain if a Widow, or a Wife!
And harder still, when scarce a Twelvemonth wed,
To have my Husband ravish'd from my Bed!

[Weeping.
Dol.
Madam, cheer up, and do not thus complain,
For, as the Proverb says, to grieve is vain:
Perhaps my Master's dead, if not, they say,
A Woman need but seven Years to stay;
Thrice seven Times almost the Sun his Race
Has ran, since you beheld your Husband's Face;
What then should hinder making You a Bride?
Now certainly the Law is of your Side.

Pen.
Talk not of any Husband, Dol, to me,
Far from my Thoughts be ev'ry one but he.

Dol.
But, Madam, do not wholly banish Joy;
Be comforted, your Son's a hopeful Boy.

Pen.
O! Tele, Tele, when thy Face I view,
Thy Father's Image does my Woes renew;
While he's away what Comfort can I find?
Nor Gin, nor Nantz, can ease a lovesick Mind.
My Neighbour Limbeck has not in his Shop,
Ah! Me! for Griefs like mine one cordial Drop.

Dol.
Then, if you please, I will to Gemmit's go;
He has a Dram, I'm sure, will ease your Woe.

Pen.
Peace poor Adviser.—O! you silly Sow,
Ha' done; and talk no more of drinking now.

Dol.
What if you dress, and go to see a Play?
Henley and Violante act to-day.

Pen.
Dress! I cou'd almost throw my Cap away.
She pulls off her Cap.
SONG I.
I have not comb'd, this Month, these matted Locks,
Nor, all this Quarter, worn but two clean Smocks.
I live like any Hen pen'd up in Coop;
You see I don't so much as wear a Hoop.

Dol.
Yet, Spite of all thy slattern Air, and Grace,
The Men find Something pretty in thy Face.

Pen.
And what of that? Do'st think I'd be a Whore?
Or do'st thou think Ulysses is no more?

Dol.
But, Madam, have you no Regard to Fame?
Thimble and Hopkins will put in their Claim.

Pen.
To hear the Butcher too, Will Cleaver, bellow!

Dol.
SONG II.

Pen.
Why do these Rakehells thus disturb my Quiet?
Why come they here to make this dayly Riot?

Dol.
They say your Promise they can ne'er forget,
While you are weaving, Sooth, the Cabbage-net:
You told them faithfully, when that is done,
You'd give Yourself to Tom, to Will, or John.

Pen.
It is not finish'd yet, nor ever will,
For the Day's Work the Night unravels still;
Tell them from thence of Hopes they've not a Glimps;
I made the Promise but to bite the Pimps:
I can despise their Treats, their Stout, their Ale,
Nor can their Hotpot, nor their Punch, prevail;
But see, Tom Thimble comes, avoid the Place;
I cannot bear that Pricklouse Raskal's Face.

She goes out.

SCENE II.

Thimble enters, looking after Penelope.
Thimb.
SONG III.

Dol.
Nay, Master Thimble, never thus complain,
The Sheers but part, you know, to meet again.

Thimb.
Ah! Dol, thy Mistress shou'd not use Me ill,
I love her more than Staytape in a Bill;
And if she will not quickly be my Wife,
Grief soon will snap my slender Thread of Life.

Thimb.
Ah! dearest Dol, wou'd you my Cause assist,
You soon might do the Bus'ness,—if you list;
But, O! I fear that, by your late Behaviour,
The Bully Cleaver stands most in your Favour.

Dol.
Why truly Cleaver is a Man of Merit,
And shews, in ev'ry Act, he wants no Spirit;
For, if he's out of Pelf, he'll always bring
A Sweetbread, or a Heart, or some such Thing;
Therefore I must oblige him, for, you know,
We Servants love a pretty Bit, or so.

Thimb.
Well, Dol, when you this silver Thimble see,
Think of Tom Thimble; that is, think of me.

Dol.
[Aside.

Thimb.
Love, Thimble, owns thy Pow'r where'er he goes!
You scarcely give him Time to ty his Hose.

[Thimble goes out, pulling up his Stockings.

SCENE III.

Hopkins enters, singing.
Hopk.
SONG IV.

Dol.
O! Nothing comes amiss.
[Aside.
You need not fear,
You're always, Neighbour Hopkins, wellcome here.
I never fail to speak a Word for you.

Hopk.
Then Dol in Church shall never want a Pew.

[Hopkins goes out.

SCENE IV.

Dol.
Well, Goodman Quaver, thou may'st go thy Ways;
There is no Danger from thy Ekes and Ayes:
Thus I may safely gull such Fools as you,
Yet to my Cleaver, my belov'd, be true.

SCENE V.

Cleaver enters as from a Place where he stood concealed.
Cleav.
SONG V.

Dol.
And to thy Dol, while Cleaver is away,
The shortest Moment is a livelong Day:
And, trust me, I had rather, by my Life,
Be Cleaver's Mistress than another's Wife.

Cleav.
And when I'm marry'd, trust me, by my Life,
I'll use Thee as a Mistress, her a Wife;
When I the Widow, and her Goods, possess,
I'll see my Dolly in another Dress.

[Chucking her under the Chin.
Dol.
Then haste, and beg, with Sighs, not to delay,
Tell her you languish for the bridal Day.

Cleav.
Shall I my Fame with whining Sorrows stain,
Whose Arms have Hecatombs of Oxen slain?
Shall I fall on my Knees?—but 'tis no more,
Than Butcher Hercules has done before;
But lo! the Diff'rence great betwixt us twain;
He felt the Passion that I only feign.
Well, Dol, when I have pay'd my Vows to Pen—

Dol.
Then in my Garret we will meet at ten.