Chapter VI: Act II: For the scene between Beaumelle and her maids is substituted (2)

_Char._ One moment more,
But to bestow a few poore legacyes, 110
All I haue left in my dead fathers rights,
And I haue done. Captaine, weare thou these spurs
That yet ne’re made his horse runne from a foe.
Lieutenant, thou, this Scarfe, and may it tye
Thy valor, and thy honestie together: 115
For so it did in him. Ensigne, this Curace
Your Generalls necklace once. You gentle Bearers,
Deuide this purse of gold, this other, strow
Among the poore: tis all I haue. _Romont_,
(Weare thou this medall of himselfe) that like 120
A hearty Oake, grew’st close to this tall Pine,
Euen in the wildest wildernese of war,
Whereon foes broke their swords, and tyr’d themselues;
Wounded and hack’d yee were, but neuer fell’d.
For me my portion prouide in Heauen: 125
My roote is earth’d, and I a desolate branch
Left scattered in the high way of the world,
Trod vnder foot, that might haue bin a Columne,
Mainly supporting our demolish’d house,
This would I weare as my inheritance. 130
And what hope can arise to me from it,
When I and it are both heere prisoners?
Onely may this, if euer we be free,
Keepe, or redeeme me from all infamie.

_Song. Musicke._

_1 Cred._ No farther, looke to ’em at your owne perill. 135

_2 Cred._ No, as they please: their Master’s a good man.
I would they were the _Burmudas_.

_Saylor._ You must no further.
The prison limits you, and the Creditors
Exact the strictnesse.

_Rom._ Out you wooluish mungrells!
Whose braynes should be knockt out, like dogs in Iuly, 140
Leste your infection poyson a whole towne.

_Char._ They grudge our sorrow: your ill wills perforce
Turnes now to Charity: they would not haue vs
Walke too farre mourning, vsurers reliefe
Grieues, if the Debtors haue too much of griefe. 145

_Exeunt._

[SCENE II]

[_A Room in Rochfort’s House._]

_Enter Beaumelle_: _Florimell_: _Bellapert_.

_Beau._ I prithee tell me, _Florimell_, why do women marry?

_Flor._ Why truly Madam, I thinke, to lye with their husbands.

_Bella._ You are a foole: She lyes, Madam, women marry husbands,
To lye with other men. 5

_Flor._ Faith eene such a woman wilt thou make. By this
light, Madam, this wagtaile will spoyle you, if you take
delight in her licence.

_Beau._ Tis true, _Florimell_: and thou wilt make me too good
for a yong Lady. What an electuary found my father out for 10
his daughter, when hee compounded you two my women?
for thou, _Florimell_, art eene a graine to heauy, simply for a
wayting Gentlewoman.

_Flor._ And thou _Bellapert_, a graine too light.

_Bella._ Well, go thy wayes goodly wisdom, whom no body 15
regards. I wonder, whether be elder thou or thy hood: you
thinke, because you serue my Laydes mother, are 32 yeeres
old which is a peepe out, you know.

_Flor._ Well sayd, wherligig.

_Bella._ You are deceyu’d: I want a peg ith’ middle. 20
Out of these Prerogatiues! you thinke to be mother of the
maydes heere, & mortifie em with prouerbs: goe, goe, gouern
the sweet meates, and waigh the Suger, that the wenches
steale none: say your prayers twice a day, and as I take it, you
haue performd your function. 25

_Flor._ I may bee euen with you.

_Bell._ Harke, the Court’s broke vp. Goe helpe my old Lord
out of his Caroch, and scratch his head till dinner time.

_Flor._ Well.

_Exit._

_Bell._ Fy Madam, how you walke! By my mayden-head 30
you looke 7 yeeres older then you did this morning: why,
there can be nothing vnder the Sunne vanuable, to make you
thus a minute.

_Beau._ Ah my sweete Bellapert thou Cabinet
To all my counsels, thou dost know the cause 35
That makes thy Lady wither thus in youth.

_Bel._ Vd’d-light, enioy your wishes: whilst I liue,
One way or other you shall crowne your will.
Would you haue him your husband that you loue,
And can’t not bee? he is your seruant though, 40
And may performe the office of a husband.

_Beau._ But there is honor, wench.

_Bell._ Such a disease
There is in deed, for which ere I would dy.--

_Beau._ Prethee, distinguish me a mayd & wife.

_Bell._ Faith, Madam, one may beare any mans children, 45
Tother must beare no mans.

_Beau._ What is a husband?

_Bell._ Physicke, that tumbling in your belly, will make you
sicke ith’ stomacke: the onely distinction betwixt a husband
and a seruant is: the first will lye with you, when he please;
the last shall lye with you when you please. Pray tell me, 50
Lady, do you loue, to marry after, or would you marry, to
loue after.

_Beau._ I would meete loue and marriage both at once.

_Bell._ Why then you are out of the fashion, and wilbe contemn’d;
for (Ile assure you) there are few women i’th world, 55
but either they haue married first, and loue after, or loue
first, and marryed after: you must do as you may, not as you
would: your fathers will is the Goale you must fly to: if a
husband approach you, you would haue further off, is he your
loue? the lesse neere you. A husband in these days is but a 60
cloake to bee oftner layde vpon your bed, then in your
bed.

_Baum._ Humpe.

_Bell._ Sometimes you may weare him on your shoulder,
now and then vnder your arme: but seldome or neuer let him 65
couer you: for ’tis not the fashion.

_Enter y. Nouall_, _Pontalier_, _Malotin_, _Lilladam_, _Aymer_.

_Nou._ Best day to natures curiosity,
Starre of _Dijum_, the lustre of all _France_,
Perpetuall spring dwell on thy rosy cheekes,
Whose breath is perfume to our Continent, 70
See _Flora_ turn’d in her varieties.

_Bell._ Oh diuine Lord!

_Nou._ No autumne, nor no age euer approach
This heauenly piece, which nature hauing wrought,
She lost her needle and did then despaire, 75
Euer to work so liuely and so faire.

_Lilad._ Vds light, my Lord one of the purles of your band
is (without all discipline falne) out of his ranke.

_Nou._ How? I would not for a 1000 crownes she had seen’t.
Deare _Liladam_, reforme it. 80

_Bell._ O Lord: _Per se_, Lord, quintessence of honour,
shee walkes not vnder a weede that could deny thee any
thing.

_Baum._ Prethy peace, wench, thou dost but blow the fire,
that flames too much already. 85

_Lilad. Aym. trim Nouall, whilst Bell her Lady._

_Aym._ By gad, my Lord, you haue the diuinest
Taylor of Christendome; he hath made
you looke like an Angell in your cloth of Tissue doublet.

_Pont._ This is a three-leg’d Lord, ther’s a fresh assault, oh
that men should spend time thus! 90
See see, how her blood driues to her heart, and straight
vaults to her cheekes againe.

_Malo._ What are these?

_Pont._ One of ’em there the lower is a good, foolish, knauish
sociable gallimaufry of a man, and has much taught 95
my Lord with singing, hee is master of a musicke house: the
other is his dressing blocke, vpon whom my Lord layes all
his cloathes, and fashions, ere he vouchsafes ’em his owne
person; you shall see him i’th morning in the Gally-foyst, at
noone in the Bullion, i’th euening in Quirpo, and all night 100
in--

_Malo._ A Bawdy house.

_Pont._ If my Lord deny, they deny, if hee affirme, they affirme:
they skip into my Lords cast skins some twice a yeere,
and thus they liue to eate, eate to liue, 105
and liue to prayfe my Lord.

_Malo._ Good sir, tell me one thing.

_Pont._ What’s that?

_Malo._ Dare these men euer fight, on any cause?

_Pont._ Oh no, ’t would spoyle their cloathes, and put their 110
bands out of order.

_Nou._ _Mrs_, you heare the news: your father has resign’d
his Presidentship to my Lord my father.

_Malo._ And Lord Charolois vndone foreuer.

_Pont._ Troth, ’tis pity, sir.
A brauer hope of so assur’d a father 115
Did neuer comfort _France_.

_Lilad._ A good dumbe mourner.

_Aym._ A silent blacke.
As if he had come this Christmas from St. _Omers_.

_Nou._ Oh fie vpon him, how he weares his cloathes!
To see his friends, and return’d after Twelfetyde. 120

_Lilad._ His Colonell lookes fienely like a drouer.

_Nou._ That had a winter ly’n perdieu i’th rayne.

_Aym._ What, he that weares a clout about his necke,
His cuffes in’s pocket, and his heart in’s mouth?

_Nou._ Now out vpon him!

_Beau._ Seruant, tye my hand. 125
How your lips blush, in scorne that they should pay
Tribute to hands, when lips are in the way!

_Nou._ I thus recant, yet now your hand looks white
Because your lips robd it of such a right.
_Mounsieur Aymour_, I prethy sing the song 130
Deuoted to my _Mrs._

_Cant._ _Musicke._

_After the Song, Enter Rochfort, & Baumont._

_Baum._ Romont will come, sir, straight.

_Roch._ ’Tis well.

_Beau._ My Father.

_Nouall._ My honorable Lord.

_Roch._ My Lord _Nouall_ this is a vertue in you.
So early vp and ready before noone, 135
That are the map of dressing through all _France_.

_Nou._ I rise to say my prayers, sir, heere’s my Saint.

_Roch._ Tis well and courtly; you must giue me leaue,
I haue some priuate conference with my daughter,
Pray vse my garden, you shall dine with me. 140

_Lilad._ Wee’l waite on you.

_Nou._ Good morne vnto your Lordship,
Remember what you haue vow’d----to his _Mrs._

_Exeunt omnes praeter Roch. Daug._

_Beau._ Performe I must.

_Roch._ Why how now _Beaumelle_, thou look’st not well.
Th’ art sad of late, come cheere thee, I haue found
A wholesome remedy for these mayden fits, 145
A goodly Oake whereon to twist my vine,
Till her faire branches grow vp to the starres.
Be neere at hand, successe crowne my intent,
My businesse fills my little time so full,
I cannot stand to talke: I know, thy duty 150
Is handmayd to my will, especially
When it presents nothing but good and fit.

_Beau._ Sir, I am yours. Oh if my teares proue true, _Exit Daug_
Fate hath wrong’d loue, and will destroy me too.

_Enter Romont keeper_

_Rom._ Sent you for me, sir?

_Roch._ Yes.

_Rom._ Your Lordships pleasure? 155

_Roch._ Keeper, this prisoner I will see forth comming
Vpon my word--Sit downe good Colonell. _Exit keeper._
Why I did wish you hither, noble sir,
Is to aduise you from this yron carriage,
Which, so affected, _Romont_, you weare, 160
To pity and to counsell yee submit
With expedition to the great _Nouall_:
Recant your sterne contempt, and slight neglect
Of the whole Court, and him, and opportunity,
Or you will vndergoe a heauy censure 165
In publique very shortly.

_Rom._ Hum hum: reuerend sir,
I haue obseru’d you, and doe know you well,
And am now more affraid you know not me,
By wishing my submission to _Nouall_,
Then I can be of all the bellowing mouthes 170
That waite vpon him to pronounce the censure,
Could it determine me torments, and shame.
Submit, and craue forgiuenesse of a beast?
Tis true, this bile of state weares purple Tissue.
Is high fed, proud: so is his Lordships horse, 175
And beares as rich Caparisons. I know,
This Elephant carries on his back not onely
Towres, Castles, but the ponderous republique,
And neuer stoops for’t, with his strong breath trunk
Snuffes others titles, Lordships, Offices, 180
Wealth, bribes, and lyues, vnder his rauenous iawes.
Whats this vnto my freedome? I dare dye;
And therefore aske this Cammell, if these blessings
(For so they would be vnderstood by a man)
But mollifie one rudenesse in his nature, 185
Sweeten the eager relish of the law,
At whose great helme he sits: helps he the poore
In a iust businesse? nay, does he not crosse
Euery deserued souldier and scholler,
As if when nature made him, she had made 190
The generall Antipathy of all vertue?
How sauagely, and blasphemously hee spake
Touching the Generall, the graue Generall dead,
I must weepe when I thinke on’t.

_Roch._ Sir

_Rom._ My Lord,
I am not stubborne, I can melt, you see, 195
And prize a vertue better then my life:
For though I be not learnd, I euer lou’d
That holy Mother of all issues, good,
Whose white hand (for a Scepter) holds a File
To pollish roughest customes, and in you 200
She has her right: see, I am calme as sleepe,
But when I thinke of the grosse iniuries
The godlesse wrong done, to my Generall dead,
I raue indeed, and could eate this Nouall
A lsoule-esse Dromodary.

_Roch._ Oh bee temperate, 205
Sir, though I would perswade, I’le not constraine:
Each mans opinion freely is his owne,
Concerning any thing or any body,
Be it right or wrong, tis at the Iudges perill.

_Enter Baumond,_

_Bau._ These men, Sir, waite without, my Lord is come too. 210

_Roch._ Pay ’em those summes vpon the table, take
Their full releases: stay, I want a witnesse:
Let mee intreat you Colonell, to walke in,
And stand but by, to see this money pay’d,
It does concerne you and your friends, it was 215
The better cause you were sent for, though sayd otherwise.
The deed shall make this my request more plaine.

_Rom._ I shall obey your pleasure Sir, though ignorant
To what is tends?

_Exit Seruant: Romont. Enter Charolois_

_Roch._ Worthiest Sir, 220
You are most welcome: fye, no more of this:
You haue out-wept a woman, noble Charolois.
No man but has, or must bury a father.

_Char._ Graue Sir, I buried sorrow, for his death,
In the graue with him. I did neuer thinke 225
Hee was immortall, though I vow I grieue,
And see no reason why the vicious,
Vertuous, valiant and vnworthy man
Should dye alike.

_Roch._ They do not.

_Char._ In the manner
Of dying, Sir, they do not, but all dye, 230
And therein differ not: but I haue done.
I spy’d the liuely picture of my father,
Passing your gallery, and that cast this water
Into mine eyes: see, foolish that I am,
To let it doe so.

_Roch._ Sweete and gentle nature, 235
How silken is this well comparatiuely
To other men! I haue a suite to you Sir.

_Char._ Take it, tis granted.

_Roch._ What?

_Char._ Nothing, my Lord.

_Roch._ Nothing is quickly granted.

_Char._ Faith, my Lord,
That nothing granted, is euen all I haue, 240
For (all know) I haue nothing left to grant.

_Roch._ Sir, ha’ you any suite to me? Ill grant
You something, any thing.

_Char._ Nay surely, I that can
Giue nothing, will but sue for that againe. 245
No man will grant mee any thing I sue for.
But begging nothing, euery man will giue’t.

_Roch._ Sir, the loue I bore your father, and the worth
I see in you, so much resembling his.
Made me thus send for you. And tender heere 250

_Drawes a Curtayne._

What euer you will take, gold, Iewels, both,
All, to supply your wants, and free your selfe.
Where heauenly vertue in high blouded veines
Is lodg’d, and can agree, men should kneele downe,
Adore, and sacrifice all that they haue; 255
And well they may, it is so seldome seene.
Put off your wonder, and heere freely take
Or send your seruants. Nor, Sir, shall you vse
In ought of this, a poore mans fee, or bribe,
Vniustly taken of the rich, but what’s 260
Directly gotten, and yet by the Law.

_Char._ How ill, Sir, it becomes those haires to mocke?

_Roch._ Mocke? thunder strike mee then.

_Char._ You doe amaze mee:
But you shall wonder too, I will not take
One single piece of this great heape: why should I 265
Borrow, that haue not meanes to pay, nay am
A very bankerupt, euen in flattering hope
Of euer raysing any. All my begging,
Is _Romonts_ libertie.

_Enter Romont. Creditors loaden with mony. Baumont._

_Roch._ Heere is your friend,
Enfranchist ere you spake. I giue him you, 270
And Charolois. I giue you to your friend
As free a man as hee; your fathers debts
Are taken off.

_Char._ How?

_Rom._ Sir, it is most true.
I am the witnes.

_1 Cred._ Yes faith, wee are pay’d.

_2 Cred._ Heauen blesse his Lordship, I did thinke him wiser. 275

_3 Cred._ He a states-man, he an asse Pay other mens debts?

_1 Cred._ That he was neuer bound for.

_Rom._ One more such
Would saue the rest of pleaders.

_Char._ _Honord Rochfort._
Lye still my toung and bushes, cal’d my cheekes,
That offter thankes in words, for such great deeds. 280

_Roch._ Call in my daughter: still I haue a suit to you.

_Baum. Exit._

Would you requite mee.

_Rom._ With his life, assure you.

_Roch._ Nay, would you make me now your debter, Sir.
This is my onely child: what shee appeares, _Enter Baum. Beau._
Your Lordship well may see her education 285
Followes not any: for her mind, I know it
To be far fayrer then her shape, and hope
It will continue so: if now her birth
Be not too meane for Charolois, take her
This virgin by the hand, and call her wife, 290
Indowd with all my fortunes: blesse me so,
Requite mee thus, and make mee happier,
In ioyning my poore empty name to yours,
Then if my state were multiplied ten fold.

_Char._ Is this the payment, Sir, that you expect? 295
Why, you participate me more in debt,
That nothing but my life can euer pay,
This beautie being your daughter, in which yours
I must conceiue necessitie of her vertue
Without all dowry is a Princes ayme, 300
Then, as shee is, for poore and worthlesse I,
How much too worthy! Waken me, _Romont_,
That I may know I dream’t and find this vanisht

_Rom._ Sure, I sleepe not.

_Roch._ Your sentence life or death.

_Char._ Faire Beaumelle, can you loue me?

_Beau._ Yes, my Lord. 305

_Enter Nouall, Ponta. Malotine, Lilad. Aymer. All salute_

_Char._ You need not question me, if I can you.
You are the fayrest virgin in _Digum_,
And _Rochfort_ is your father.

_Nou._ What’s this change?

_Roch._ You met my wishes, Gentlemen.

_Rom._ What make
These dogs in doublets heere?

_Beau._ A Visitation, Sir. 310

_Char._ Then thus, Faire _Beaumelle_, I write my faith
Thus seale it in the sight of Heauen and men.
Your fingers tye my heart-strings with this touch
In true-loue knots, which nought but death shall loose.
And yet these eares (an Embleme of our loues) 315
Like Cristall riuers indiuidually
Flow into one another, make one source,
Which neuer man distinguish, lesse deuide:
Breath, marry, breath, and kisses, mingle soules
Two hearts, and bodies, heere incorporate: 320
And though with little wooing I haue wonne
My future life shall be a wooing tyme.
And euery day, new as the bridall one.
Oh Sir I groane vnder your courtesies,
More then my fathers bones vnder his wrongs, 325
You _Curtius_-like, haue throwne into the gulfe,
Of this his Countries foule ingratitude,
Your life and fortunes, to redeeme their shames.

_Roch._ No more, my glory, come, let’s in and hasten
This celebration.

_Rom. Mal. Pont. Bau._ All faire blisse vpon it. 330

_Exeunt Roch. Char. Rom. Bau. Mal._

_Nou._ Mistresse.

_Beau._ Oh seruant, vertue strengthen me.
Thy presence blowes round my affections vane:
You will vndoe me, if you speake againe.

_Exit Beaum._

_Lilad. Aym._ Heere will be sport for you. This workes.

_Exeunt Lilad. Aym._

_Nou._ Peace, peace,

_Pont._ One word, my Lord _Nouall_.

_Nou._ What, thou wouldst mony; there. 335

_Pont._ No, Ile none, Ile not be bought a slaue,
A Pander, or a Parasite, for all
Your fathers worth, though you haue sau’d my life,
Rescued me often from my wants, I must not
Winke at your follyes: that will ruine you. 340
You know my blunt way, and my loue to truth:
Forsake the pursuit of this Ladies honour,
Now you doe see her made another mans,
And such a mans, so good, so popular,
Or you will plucke a thousand mischiefes on you. 345
The benefits you haue done me, are not lost,
Nor cast away, they are purs’d heere in my heart,
But let me pay you, sir, a fayrer way
Then to defend your vices, or to sooth ’em.

_Nou._ Ha, ha, ha, what are my courses vnto thee? 350
Good Cousin _Pontalier_, meddle with that
That shall concerne thyselfe.

_Exit Nouall._

_Pont._ No more but scorne?
Moue on then, starres, worke your pernicious will.
Onely the wise rule, and preuent your ill.

_Exit. Hoboyes._

_Here a passage ouer the Stage, while the Act is playing for the
Marriage of Charalois with Beaumelle, &c._

_Actus tertius._

_Scaena prima._

[_A Room in Charalois’ House_]

_Enter Nouall Iunior, Bellapert._

_Nou. Iu._ Flie not to these excuses: thou hast bin
False in thy promise, and when I haue said
Vngratefull, all is spoke.

_Bell._ Good my Lord,
But heare me onely.

_Nou._ To what purpose, trifler?
Can anything that thou canst say, make voyd 5
The marriage? or those pleasures but a dreame,
Which _Charaloyes_ (oh _Venus_) hath enioyd?

_Bell._ I yet could say that you receiue aduantage,
In what you thinke a losse, would you vouchsafe me
That you were neuer in the way till now 10
With safety to arriue at your desires,
That pleasure makes loue to you vnattended
By danger or repentance?

_Nou._ That I could.
But apprehend one reason how this might be,
Hope would not then forsake me.

_Bell._ The enioying 15
Of what you most desire, I say th’ enioying
Shall, in the full possession of your wishes,
Confirme that I am faithfull.

_Nou._ Giue some rellish
How this may appeare possible.

_Bell._ I will
Rellish, and taste, and make the banquet easie: 20
You say my Ladie’s married. I confesse it,
That Charalois hath inioyed her, ’tis most true
That with her, hee’s already Master of
The best part of my old Lords state. Still better,
But that the first, or last, should be your hindrance, 25
I vtterly deny: for but obserue me:
While she went for, and was, I sweare, a Virgin,
What courtesie could she with her honour giue
Or you receiue with safety--take me with you,
When I say courtesie, doe not think I meane 30
A kisse, the tying of her shoo or garter,
An houre of priuate conference: those are trifles.
In this word courtesy, we that are gamesters point at
The sport direct, where not alone the louer
Brings his Artillery, but vses it. 35
Which word expounded to you, such a courtesie
Doe you expect, and sudden.

_Nou._ But he tasted
The first sweetes, _Bellapert_.

_Bell._ He wrong’d you shrewdly,
He toyl’d to climbe vp to the _Phoenix_ nest,
And in his prints leaues your ascent more easie. 40
I doe not know, you that are perfect Crittiques
In womens bookes, may talke of maydenheads.

_Nou._ But for her marriage.

_Bell._ ’Tis a faire protection
’Gainst all arrests of feare, or shame for euer.
Such as are faire, and yet not foolish, study 45
To haue one at thirteene; but they are mad
That stay till twenty. Then sir, for the pleasure,
To say Adulterie’s sweeter, that is stale.
This onely is not the contentment more,
To say, This is my Cuckold, then my Riuall. 50
More I could say--but briefly, she doates on you,
If it proue otherwise, spare not, poyson me
With the next gold you giue me.

_Enter Beaumely_

_Beau._ Hows this seruant,
Courting my woman?

_Bell._ As an entrance to
The fauour of the mistris: you are together 55
And I am perfect in my qu.

_Beau._ Stay _Bellapert_.

_Bell._ In this I must not with your leaue obey you.
Your Taylor and your Tire-woman waite without
And stay my counsayle, and direction for
Your next dayes dressing. I haue much to doe, 60
Nor will your Ladiship know, time is precious,
Continue idle: this choise Lord will finde
So fit imployment for you.

_Exit Bellap._

_Beau._ I shall grow angry.

_Nou._ Not so, you haue a iewell in her, Madam.

_Enter againe._

_Bell._ I had forgot to tell your Ladiship 65
The closet is priuate and your couch ready:
And if you please that I shall loose the key,
But say so, and tis done.

_Exit Bellap._

_Baum._ You come to chide me, seruant, and bring with you
Sufficient warrant, you will say and truely, 70
My father found too much obedience in me,
By being won too soone: yet if you please
But to remember, all my hopes and fortunes
Had reuerence to this likening: you will grant
That though I did not well towards you, I yet 75
Did wisely for my selfe.

_Nou._ With too much feruor
I haue so long lou’d and still loue you, Mistresse,
To esteeme that an iniury to me
Which was to you conuenient: that is past
My helpe, is past my cure. You yet may, Lady, 80
In recompence of all my dutious seruice,
(Prouided that your will answere your power)
Become my Creditresse.

_Beau._ I vnderstand you,
And for assurance, the request you make
Shall not be long vnanswered. Pray you sit, 85
And by what you shall heare, you’l easily finde,
My passions are much fitter to desire,
Then to be sued to.

_Enter Romont and Florimell._

_Flor._ Sir, tis not enuy
At the start my fellow has got of me in
My Ladies good opinion, thats the motiue 90
Of this discouery; but due payment
Of what I owe her Honour.

_Rom._ So I conceiue it.

_Flo._ I haue obserued too much, nor shall my silence
Preuent the remedy--yonder they are,
I dare not bee seene with you. You may doe 95
What you thinke fit, which wil be, I presume,
The office of a faithfull and tryed friend
To my young Lord.

_Exit Flori._

_Rom._ This is no vision: ha!

_Nou._ With the next opportunity.

_Beau._ By this kisse,
And this, and this.

_Nou._ That you would euer sweare thus. 100

_Rom._ If I seeme rude, your pardon, Lady; yours
I do not aske: come, do not dare to shew mee
A face of anger, or the least dislike.
Put on, and suddaily a milder looke,
I shall grow rough else.

_Nou._ What haue I done, Sir, 105
To draw this harsh vnsauory language from you?

_Rom._ Done, Popinjay? why, dost thou thinke that if
I ere had dreamt that thou hadst done me wrong,
Thou shouldest outliue it?

_Beau._ This is something more
Then my Lords friendship giues commission for. 110

_Nou._ Your presence and the place, makes him presume
Vpon my patience.

_Rom._ As if thou ere wer’t angry
But with thy Taylor, and yet that poore shred
Can bring more to the making vp of a man,
Then can be hop’d from thee: thou art his creature, 115
And did hee not each morning new create [thee]
Thou wouldst stinke and be forgotten. Ile not change
On syllable more with thee, vntill thou bring
Some testimony vnder good mens hands,
Thou art a Christian. I suspect thee strongly, 120
And wilbe satisfied: till which time, keepe from me.
The entertaiment of your visitation
Has made what I intended on a businesse.

_Nou._ So wee shall meete--Madam.

_Rom._ Vse that legge again,
And Ile cut off the other.

_Nou._ Very good. 125

_Exit Nouall._

_Rom._ What a perfume the Muske-cat leaues behind him!
Do you admit him for a property,
To saue you charges, Lady.

_Beau._ Tis not vselesse,
Now you are to succeed him.

_Rom._ So I respect you,
Not for your selfe, but in remembrance of, 130
Who is your father, and whose wife you now are,
That I choose rather not to vnderstand
Your nasty scoffe then,--

_Beau._ What, you will not beate mee,
If I expound it to you. Heer’s a Tyrant
Spares neyther man nor woman.

_Rom._ My intents 135
Madam, deserue not this; nor do I stay
To be the whetstone of your wit: preserue it
To spend on such, as know how to admire
Such coloured stuffe. In me there is now speaks to you
As true a friend and seruant to your Honour, 140
And one that will with as much hazzard guard it,
As euer man did goodnesse.--But then Lady,
You must endeauour not alone to bee,
But to appeare worthy such loue and seruice.

_Beau._ To what tends this?

_Rom._ Why, to this purpose, Lady, 145
I do desire you should proue such a wife
To _Charaloys_ (and such a one hee merits)
As Caesar, did hee liue, could not except at,
Not onely innocent from crime, but free
From all taynt and suspition.

_Beau._ They are base 150
That iudge me otherwise.

_Rom._ But yet bee carefull.
Detraction’s a bold monster, and feares not
To wound the fame of Princes, if it find
But any blemish in their liues to worke on.
But Ile bee plainer with you: had the people 155
Bin learnd to speake, but what euen now I saw,
Their malice out of that would raise an engine
To ouerthrow your honor. In my fight
(With yonder pointed foole I frighted from you)
You vs’d familiarity beyond 160
A modest entertaynment: you embrac’d him
With too much ardor for a stranger, and
Met him with kisses neyther chaste nor comely:
But learne you to forget him, as I will
Your bounties to him, you will find it safer 165
Rather to be vncourtly, then immodest.

_Beau._ This prety rag about your necke shews well,
And being coorse and little worth, it speakes you,
As terrible as thrifty.

_Rom._ Madam.

_Beau._ Yes.
And this strong belt in which you hang your honor 170
Will out-last twenty scarfs.

_Rom._ What meane you, Lady?

_Beau._ And all else about you Cap a pe
So vniforme in spite of handsomnesse,
Shews such a bold contempt of comelinesse,
That tis not strange your Laundresse in the League, 175
Grew mad with loue of you.

_Rom._ Is my free counsayle
Answerd with this ridiculous scorne?

_Beau._ These obiects
Stole very much of my attention from me,
Yet something I remember, to speake truth,
Deceyued grauely, but to little purpose, 180
That almost would haue made me sweare, some Curate
Had stolne into the person of _Romont_,
And in the praise of goodwife honesty,
Had read an homely.

_Rom._ By thy hand.

_Beau._ And sword,
I will make vp your oath, twill want weight else. 185
You are angry with me, and poore I laugh at it.
Do you come from the Campe, which affords onely
The conuersation of cast suburbe whores,
To set downe to a Lady of my ranke,
Lymits of entertainment? 190

_Rom._ Sure a Legion has possest this woman.

_Beau._ One stampe more would do well: yet I desire not
You should grow horne-mad, till you haue a wife.
You are come to warme meate, and perhaps cleane linnen:
Feed, weare it, and bee thankefull. For me, know, 195
That though a thousand watches were set on mee,
And you the Master-spy, I yet would vse,
The liberty that best likes mee. I will reuell,
Feast, kisse, imbreace, perhaps grant larger fauours:
Yet such as liue vpon my meanes, shall know 200
They must not murmur at it. If my Lord
Bee now growne yellow, and has chose out you
To serue his Iealouzy that way, tell him this,
You haue something to informe him:

_Exit Beau._

_Rom._ And I will.
Beleeue it wicked one I will. Heare, Heauen, 205
But hearing pardon mee: if these fruts grow
Vpon the tree of marriage, let me shun it,
As a forbidden sweete. An heyre and rich,
Young, beautifull, yet adde to this a wife,
And I will rather choose a Spittle sinner 210
Carted an age before, though three parts rotten,
And take it for a blessing, rather then
Be fettered to the hellish slauery
Of such an impudence.

_Enter Baumont with writings._

_Bau._ Collonell, good fortune
To meet you thus: you looke sad, but Ile tell you 215
Something that shall remoue it. Oh how happy
Is my Lord _Charaloys_ in his faire bride!

_Rom._ A happy man indeede!--pray you in what?

_Bau._ I dare sweare, you would thinke so good a Lady,
A dower sufficient.

_Rom._ No doubt. But on. 220

_Bau._ So faire, so chaste, so vertuous: so indeed
All that is excellent.

_Rom._ Women haue no cunning
To gull the world.

_Bau._ Yet to all these, my Lord
Her father giues the full addition of
All he does now possesse in _Burgundy_: 225
These writings to confirme it, are new seal’d
And I most fortunate to present him with them,
I must goe seeke him out, can you direct mee?

_Rom._ You’l finde him breaking a young horse.

_Bau._ I thanke you.

_Exit Baumont._

_Rom._ I must do something worthy _Charaloys_ friendship. 230
If she were well inclin’d to keepe her so,
Deseru’d not thankes: and yet to stay a woman
Spur’d headlong by hot lust, to her owne ruine,
Is harder then to prop a falling towre
With a deceiuing reed.

_Enter Rochfort._

_Roch._ Some one seeke for me, 235
As soone as he returnes.

_Rom._ Her father! ha?
How if I breake this to him? sure it cannot
Meete with an ill construction. His wisedome
Made powerfull by the authority of a father,
Will warrant and giue priuiledge to his counsailes. 240
It shall be so--my Lord.

_Roch._ Your friend _Romont_:
Would you ought with me?

_Rom._ I stand so engag’d
To your so many fauours, that I hold it
A breach in thankfulnesse, should I not discouer,
Though with some imputation to my selfe, 245
All doubts that may concerne you.

_Roch._ The performance
Will make this protestation worth my thanks.

_Rom._ Then with your patience lend me your attention
For what I must deliuer, whispered onely
You will with too much griefe receiue.

_Enter Beaumelle, Bellapert._

_Beau._ See wench! 250
Vpon my life as I forespake, hee’s now
Preferring his complaint: but be thou perfect,
And we will fit him.

_Bell._ Feare not mee, pox on him:
A Captaine turne Informer against kissing?
Would he were hang’d vp in his rusty Armour: 255
But if our fresh wits cannot turne the plots
Of such a mouldy murrion on it selfe;
Rich cloathes, choyse faire, and a true friend at a call,
With all the pleasures the night yeelds, forsake vs.

_Roch._ This in my daughter? doe not wrong her.

_Bell._ Now. 260
Begin. The games afoot, and wee in distance.

_Beau._ Tis thy fault, foolish girle, pinne on my vaile,
I will not weare those iewels. Am I not
Already matcht beyond my hopes? yet still
You prune and set me forth, as if I were 265
Againe to please a suyter.

_Bell._ Tis the course
That our great Ladies take.

_Rom._ A weake excuse.

_Beau._ Those that are better seene, in what concernes
A Ladies honour and faire same, condemne it.
You waite well, in your absence, my Lords friend 270
The vnderstanding, graue and wise _Romont_.

_Rom._ Must I be still her sport?

_Beau._ Reproue me for it.
And he has traueld to bring home a iudgement
Not to be contradicted. You will say
My father, that owes more to yeeres then he, 275
Has brought me vp to musique, language, Courtship,
And I must vse them. True, but not t’offend,
Or render me suspected.

_Roch._ Does your fine story
Begin from this?

_Beau._ I thought a parting kisse
From young _Nouall_, would haue displeasd no more 280
Then heretofore it hath done; but I finde
I must restrayne such fauours now; looke therefore
As you are carefull to continue mine,
That I no more be visited. Ile endure
The strictest course of life that iealousie 285
Can thinke secure enough, ere my behauiour
Shall call my fame in question.

_Rom._ Ten dissemblers
Are in this subtile deuill. You beleeue this?

_Roch._ So farre that if you trouble me againe
With a report like this, I shall not onely 290
Iudge you malicious in your disposition,
But study to repent what I haue done
To such a nature.

_Rom._ Why, ’tis exceeding well.

_Roch._ And for you, daughter, off with this, off with it:
I haue that confidence in your goodnesse, I, 295
That I will not consent to haue you liue
Like to a Recluse in a cloyster: goe
Call in the gallants, let them make you merry,
Vse all fit liberty.

_Bell._ Blessing on you.
If this new preacher with the sword and feather 300
Could proue his doctrine for Canonicall,
We should haue a fine world.

_Exit Bellapert._

_Roch._ Sir, if you please
To beare your selfe as fits a Gentleman,
The house is at your seruice: but if not,
Though you seeke company else where, your absence 305
Will not be much lamented--

_Exit Rochfort._

_Rom._ If this be
The recompence of striuing to preserue
A wanton gigglet honest, very shortly
’Twill make all mankinde Panders--Do you smile,
Good Lady Loosenes? your whole sex is like you, 310
And that man’s mad that seekes to better any:
What new change haue you next?

_Beau._ Oh, feare not you, sir,
Ile shift into a thousand, but I will
Conuert your heresie.

_Rom._ What heresie? Speake.

_Beau._ Of keeping a Lady that is married, 315
From entertayning seruants.--

_Enter Nouall Iu._ _Malatine_, _Liladam_, _Aymer_, _Pontalier_.

O, you are welcome,
Vae any meanes to vexe him,
And then with welcome follow me.

_Exit Beau_

_Nou._ You are tyr’d
With your graue exhortations, Collonell.

_Lilad._ How is it? Fayth, your Lordship may doe well, 320
To helpe him to some Church-preferment: ’tis
Now the fashion, for men of all conditions,
How euer they haue liu’d; to end that way.

_Aym._ That face would doe well in a surplesse.

_Rom._ Rogues,
Be silent--or--

_Pont._ S’death will you suffer this? 325

_Rom._ And you, the master Rogue, the coward rascall,
I shall be with you suddenly.

_Nou._ _Pontallier_,
If I should strike him, I know I shall kill him:
And therefore I would haue thee beate him, for
Hee’s good for nothing else.

_Lilad._ His backe 330
Appeares to me, as it would tire a Beadle,
And then he has a knotted brow, would bruise
A courtlike hand to touch it.

_Aym._ Hee lookes like
A Curryer when his hides grown deare.

_Pont._ Take heede
He curry not some of you.

_Nou._ Gods me, hee’s angry. 335

_Rom._ I breake no Iests, but I can breake my sword
About your pates.

_Enter Charaloyes and Baumont._

_Lilad._ Heeres more.

_Aym._ Come let’s bee gone,
Wee are beleaguerd.

_Nou._ Looke they bring vp their troups.

_Pont._ Will you sit downe
With this disgrace? You are abus’d most grosely. 340

_Lilad._ I grant you, Sir, we are, and you would haue vs
Stay and be more abus’d.

_Nou._ My Lord, I am sorry,
Your house is so inhospitable, we must quit it.

_Exeunt. Manent. Char. Rom._

_Cha._ Prethee _Romont_, what caus’d this vprore?

_Rom._ Nothing.
They laugh’d and vs’d their scuruy wits vpon mee. 345

_Char._ Come, tis thy Iealous nature: but I wonder
That you which are an honest man and worthy,
Should softer this suspition: no man laughes;
No one can whisper, but thou apprehend’st
His conference and his scorne reflects on thee: 350
For my part they should scoffe their thin wits out,
So I not heard ’em, beate me, not being there.
Leaue, leaue these fits, to conscious men, to such
As are obnoxious, to those foolish things
As they can gibe at.

_Rom._ Well, Sir.

_Char._ Thou art know’n 355
Valiant without detect, right defin’d
Which is (as fearing to doe iniury,
As tender to endure it) not a brabbler,
A swearer.

_Rom._ Pish, pish, what needs this my Lord?
If I be knowne none such, how vainly, you 360
Do cast away good counsaile? I haue lou’d you,
And yet must freely speake; so young a tutor,
Fits not so old a Souldier as I am.
And I must tell you, t’was in your behalfe
I grew inraged thus, yet had rather dye, 365
Then open the great cause a syllable further.

_Cha._ In my behalfe? wherein hath _Charalois_
Vnfitly so demean’d himselfe, to giue
The least occasion to the loosest tongue,
To throw aspersions on him, or so weakely 370
Protected his owne honor, as it should
Need a defence from any but himselfe?
They are fools that iudge me by my outward seeming,
Why should my gentlenesse beget abuse?
The Lion is not angry that does sleepe 375
Nor euery man a Coward that can weepe.
For Gods sake speake the cause.

_Rom._ Not for the world.
Oh it will strike disease into your bones
Beyond the cure of physicke, drinke your blood,
Rob you of all your rest, contract your sight, 380
Leaue you no eyes but to see misery,
And of your owne, nor speach but to wish thus
Would I had perish’d in the prisons iawes:
From whence I was redeem’d! twill weare you old,
Before you haue experience in that Art, 385
That causes your affliction.

_Cha._ Thou dost strike
A deathfull coldnesse to my hearts high heate,
And shrinkst my liuer like the _Calenture_.
Declare this foe of mine, and lifes, that like
A man I may encounter and subdue it 390
It shall not haue one such effect in mee,
As thou denouncest: with a Souldiers arme,
If it be strength, Ile meet it: if a fault
Belonging to my mind, Ile cut it off
With mine owne reason, as a Scholler should 395
Speake, though it make mee monstrous.

_Rom._ Ile dye first.
Farewell, continue merry, and high Heauen
Keepe your wife chaste.

_Char._ Hump, stay and take this wolfe
Out of my brest, that thou hast lodg’d there, or
For euer lose mee.

_Rom._ Lose not, Sir, your selfe. 400
And I will venture--So the dore is fast. _Locke the dore._
Now noble _Charaloys_, collect your selfe,
Summon your spirits, muster all your strength
That can belong to man, sift passion,
From euery veine, and whatsoeuer ensues, 405
Vpbraid not me heereafter, as the cause of
Iealousy, discontent, slaughter and ruine:
Make me not parent to sinne: you will know
This secret that I burne with.

_Char._ Diuell on’t,
What should it be? _Romont_, I heare you wish 410
My wifes continuance of Chastity.

_Rom._ There was no hurt in that.

_Char._ Why? do you know
A likelyhood or possibility vnto the contrarie?

_Rom._ I know it not, but doubt it, these the grounds
The seruant of your wife now young _Nouall_, 415
The sonne vnto your fathers Enemy
(Which aggrauates my presumption the more)
I haue been warnd of, touching her, nay, seene them
Tye heart to heart, one in anothers armes,
Multiplying kisses, as if they meant 420
To pose Arithmeticke, or whose eyes would
Bee first burnt out, with gazing on the others.
I saw their mouthes engender, and their palmes
Glew’d, as if Loue had lockt them, their words flow
And melt each others, like two circling flames, 425
Where chastity, like a Phoenix (me thought) burn’d,
But left the world nor ashes, nor an heire.
Why stand you silent thus? what cold dull flegme,
As if you had no drop of choller mixt
In your whole constitution, thus preuailes, 430
To fix you now, thus stupid hearing this?

_Cha._ You did not see ’em on my Couch within,
Like George a horse-backe on her, nor a bed?

_Rom._ Noe.

_Cha._ Ha, ha.

_Rom._ Laugh yee? eene so did your wife,
And her indulgent father.

_Cha._ They were wife. 435
Wouldst ha me be a foole?

_Rom._ No, but a man.

_Cha._ There is no dramme of manhood to suspect,
On such thin ayrie circumstance as this
Meere complement and courtship. Was this tale
The hydeous monster which you so conceal’d? 440
Away, thou curious impertinent
And idle searcher of such leane nice toyes.
Goe, thou sedicious sower of debate:
Fly to such matches, where the bridegroome doubts:
He holds not worth enough to counteruaile 445
The vertue and the beauty of his wife.
Thou buzzing drone that ’bout my eares dost hum,
To strike thy rankling sting into my heart,
Whose vemon, time, nor medicine could asswage.
Thus doe I put thee off, and confident 450
In mine owne innocency, and desert,
Dare not conceiue her so vnreasonable,
To put _Nouall_ in ballance against me,
An vpstart cran’d vp to the height he has.
Hence busiebody, thou’rt no friend to me, 455
That must be kept to a wiues iniury,

_Rom._ Ist possible? farewell, fine, honest man,
Sweet temper’d Lord adieu: what Apoplexy
Hath knit fence vp? Is this _Romonts_ reward?
Beare witnes the great spirit of my father, 460
With what a healthfull hope I administer
This potion that hath wrought so virulently,
I not accuse thy wife of act, but would
Preuent her _Praecipuce_, to thy dishonour,
Which now thy tardy sluggishnesse will admit. 465
Would I had seene thee grau’d with thy great Sire,
Ere liue to haue mens marginall fingers point
At Charaloys, as a lamented story.
An Emperour put away his wife for touching
Another man, but thou wouldst haue thine tasted 470
And keepe her (I thinke.) Puffe. I am a fire
To warme a dead man, that waste out myselfe.
Bleed--what a plague, a vengeance i’st to mee,
If you will be a Cuckold? Heere I shew
A swords point to thee, this side you may shun, 475
Or that: the perrill, if you will runne on,
I cannot helpe it.

_Cha._ Didst thou neuer see me
Angry, _Romont_?

_Rom._ Yes, and pursue a foe
Like lightening

_Char._ Prethee see me so no more.
I can be so againe. Put vp thy sword, 480
And take thy selfe away, lest I draw mine.

_Rom._ Come fright your foes with this: sir, I am your friend,
And dare stand by you thus.

_Char._ Thou art not my friend,
Or being so, thou art mad, I must not buy
Thy friendship at this rate; had I iust cause, 485
Thou knowst I durst pursue such iniury
Through fire, ayre, water, earth, nay, were they all
Shuffled againe to _Chaos_, but ther’s none.
Thy skill, _Romont_, consists in camps, not courts.
Farewell, vnciuill man, let’s meet no more. 490
Heere our long web of friendship I vntwist.
Shall I goe whine, walke pale, and locke my wife
For nothing, from her births free liberty,
That open’d mine to me? yes; if I doe
The name of cuckold then, dog me with scorne. 495
I am a _Frenchman_, no _Italian_ borne.

_Exit._

_Rom._ A dull _Dutch_ rather: fall and coole (my blood)
Boyle not in zeal of thy friends hurt, so high,
That is so low, and cold himselfe in’t. Woman,
How strong art thou, how easily beguild? 500
How thou dost racke vs by the very hornes?
Now wealth I see change manners and the man:
Something I must doe mine owne wrath to asswage,
And note my friendship to an after-age.

_Exit._

_Actus quartus._

_Scaena prima._

[_A Room in Nouall’s House_]

_Enter Nouall Iunior, as newly dressed, a Taylor, Barber, Perfumer, Liladam, Aymour, Page._

_Nou._ Mend this a little: pox! thou hast burnt me. oh fie
vpon’t, O Lard, hee has made me smell (for
all the world) like a flaxe, or a red headed womans chamber:
powder, powder, powder.

_Perf._ Oh sweet Lord! 5

_Nouall sits in a chaire,_

_Page._ That’s his Perfumer.

_Barber orders his haire,_

_Tayl._ Oh deare Lord,

_Perfumer giues powder,_

_Page._ That’s his Taylor.

_Taylor sets his clothese._

_Nou._ Monsieur _Liladam_, _Aymour_, how allow you the
modell of these clothes? 10

_Aym._ Admirably, admirably, oh sweet Lord! assuredly
it’s pity the wormes should eate thee.

_Page._ Here’s a fine Cell; a Lord, a Taylor, a Perfumer, a
Barber, and a paire of Mounsieurs: 3 to 3, as little will in the
one, as honesty in the other. S’foote ile into the country 15
againe, learne to speake truth, drinke Ale, and conuerse with
my fathers Tenants; here I heare nothing all day, but
vpon my soule as I am a Gentleman, and an honest
man.

_Aym._ I vow and affirme, your Taylor must needs be an expert 20
Geometrician, he has the Longitude, Latitude, Altitude,
Profundity, euery Demension of your body, so exquisitely,
here’s a lace layd as directly, as if truth were a
Taylor.

_Page._ That were a miracle. 25

_Lila._ With a haire breadth’s errour, ther’s a shoulder
piece cut, and the base of a pickadille in _puncto_.

_Aym._ You are right, Mounsieur his vestaments fit: as if
they grew vpon him, or art had wrought ’em on the same
loome, as nature fram’d his Lordship as if your Taylor were 30
deepely read in Astrology, and had taken measure of your
honourable body, with a _Iacobs_ staffe, an _Ephimerides_.

_Tayl._ I am bound t’ee Gentlemen.

_Page._ You are deceiu’d, they’ll be bound to you, you must 35
remember to trust ’em none.

_Nou._ Nay, fayth, thou art a reasonable neat Artificer, giue
the diuell his due.

_Page._ I, if hee would but cut the coate according to the
cloth still. 40

_Nou._ I now want onely my misters approbation, who is
indeed, the most polite punctuall Queene of dressing in all
_Burgundy_. Pah, and makes all other young Ladies appeare,
as if they came from boord last weeke out of the country,
Is’t not true, Liladam? 45

_Lila._ True my Lord, as if any thing your Lordship could
say, could be othewrise then true.

_Nou._ Nay, a my soule, ’tis so, what fouler obiect in the
world, then to see a young faire, handsome beauty, vnhandsomely
dighted and incongruently accoutred; or a hopefull 50
_Cheualier_, vnmethodically appointed, in the externall ornaments
of nature? For euen as the Index tels vs the contents
of stories, and directs to the particular Chapters, euen so
does the outward habit and superficiall order of garments
(in man or woman) giue vs a tast of the spirit, and 55
demonstratiuely poynt (as it were a manuall note from the margin)
all the internall quality, and habiliment of the soule, and
there cannot be a more euident, palpable, grosse manifestation
of poore degenerate dunghilly blood, and breeding, then
rude, vnpolish’d, disordered and slouenly outside. 60

_Page._ An admirable! lecture. Oh all you gallants, that hope
to be saued by your cloathes, edify, edify.

_Aym._ By the Lard, sweet Lard, thou deseru’st a pension
o’ the State.

_Page._ O th’ Taylors, two such Lords were able to spread 65
Taylors ore the face of a whole kingdome.

_Nou._ Pox a this glasse! it flatters, I could find in my heart
to breake it.

_Page._ O saue the glasse my Lord, and breake their heads,
they are the greater flatterers I assure you. 70

_Aym._ Flatters, detracts, impayres, yet put it by,
Lest thou deare Lord (_Narcissus_-like) should doate
Vpon thyselfe, and dye; and rob the world
Of natures copy, that she workes forme by.

_Lila._ Oh that I were the Infanta Queene of Europe, 75
Who (but thy selfe sweete Lord) shouldst marry me.

_Nou._ I marry? were there a Queene oth’ world, not I.
Wedlocke? no padlocke, horselocke, I weare spurrs _He capers._
To keepe it off my heeles; yet my _Aymour_,
Like a free wanton iennet i’th meddows, 80
I looke aboute, and neigh, take hedge and ditch,
Feede in my neighbours pastures, picke my choyce
Of all their faire-maind-mares: but married once,
A man is stak’d, or pown’d, and cannot graze
Beyond his owne hedge.

_Enter Pontalier, and Malotin._

_Pont._ I haue waited, sir, 85
Three hours to speake w’ee, and not take it well,
Such magpies are admitted, whilst I daunce
Attendance.

_Lila._ Magpies? what d’ee take me for?

_Pont._ A long thing with a most vnpromising face.

_Aym._ I’ll ne’re aske him what he takes me for?

_Mal._ Doe not, sir, 90
For hee’l goe neere to tell you.

_Pont._ Art not thou
A Barber Surgeon?

_Barb._ Yes sira why.

_Pont._ My Lord is sorely troubled with two scabs.

_Lila._ _Aym._ Humph--

_Pont._ I prethee cure him of ’em.

_Nou._ Pish: no more, 95
Thy gall sure’s ouer throwne; these are my Councell,
And we were now in serious discourse.

_Pont._ Of perfume and apparell, can you rise
And spend 5 houres in dressing talke, with these?

_Nou._ Thou ’idst haue me be a dog: vp, stretch and shake, 100
And ready for all day.