Chapter XIV: Act I: Scene I

_A Room in_ FRIPPERY’S _House_. FRIPPERY
_discovered[442] summing up his pawns, one fellow
standing by him_.

_Enter_ ARTHUR _and a second fellow_.

AR. Is your pawn good and sound, sir?
SEC. F. I’ll pawn my life for that, sir.
AR. Place yourself there then; I will seek to prefer it
presently. My master is very jealous[443] of the
pestilence; marry, the pox sits at meat and meal with
him. [_Second fellow retires._
FRI. [_reading_] _Lent the fifth day of September to
mistress Onset upon her gown_, [_and_] _taffeta
petticoat with three broad silver laces, three pound
fifteen shillings_.
_Lent to Justice Cropshin upon both his velvet jackets
five pound ten shillings._
_Lent privately to my Lady Newcut upon her gilt
casting-bottle[444] and her silver lie-pot fifty-five
shillings._
AR. Sir——
FRI. [_reads_] _Lent to Sir Oliver Needy upon his
taffeta cloak, beaver hat, and perfumed leather-jerkin,
six pound five shillings._
AR. May it please your worship——
FRI. [_reads_] _Lent to master Andrew Lucifer upon his
flame-coloured doublet and blue taffeta hose_[445]—top
the candle, sirrah; methinks the light burns blue: when
came that suit in?
AR. ’T’as lain above the year now.
FRI. Fire and brimstone! cut it out into matches; the
white linings will serve for tinder.
AR. And with little help, sir; they are almost black
enough already. Sir, here’s another come with a pawn.
FRI. Keep him aside awhile, and reach me hither the bill
of the last week.
AR. ’Tis here at hand, sir.
FRI. Now, sir, what’s your pawn?
FIRST F. The second part of a gentlewoman’s gown, sir;
the lower half, I mean.
FRI. I apprehend you easily, the breeches of the gown.
FIRST F. Very proper; for she wears the doublet at home,
a guest that lies in my house, sir; she looks every hour
for her cousin out a’ th’ country.
FRI. O, her cousin lies here; ’a may mistake in that. My
friend, of what parish is your pawn?
FIRST F. Parish? why, Saint Clement’s, sir.
FRI. I’ll come to you presently.[446]—What parish is
your pawn, my friend? [_reads_] _Saint Bride’s_, 5;
_Saint Dunstan’s, none_; _Saint Clement’s_, 3. Three at
Clement’s?—Away with your pawn, sir! your parish is
infected; I will neither purchase the plague for
sixpence in the pound and a groat bill-money, nor
venture my small stock into contagious parishes: you
have your answer; fare you well, as fast as you can,
sir.
FIRST F. The pox arrest you, sir, at the suit of the
suburbs!
FRI. Ay, welcome, welcome.
FIRST F. For, I think, plague scorns your company.
[_Exit._
FRI. I rank with chief gallants; I love to smell safely.
[_Reads_] _Lent in the vacation to master Proctor upon
his spiritual gown five angels,[447] and upon his
corporal doublet fifteen shillings; sum, three pound
five shillings._
AR. Sir——
FRI. Now, sir?
AR. [_bringing forward a trunk._] Here’s one come in
with a trunk of apparel.
FRI. Whence comes it?
AR. From Saint Martin’s-in-the-Field.
FRI. Saint Martin’s-in-the-Field? [_reads_] _Saint Mary
Maudlin_, 2; _Saint Martin’s, none_: here’s an honest
fellow; let him appear, sir.
AR. You may come near, sir.
FRI. O welcome, welcome; what’s your pawn, sir?
SEC. F. Faith, a gentlewoman’s whole suit, sir.
FRI. Whole suit? ’tis well.
SEC. F. A poor, kind soul, troubled with a bad husband;
one that puts her to her shifts here.
FRI. He puts her from her shifts, methinks, when she is
fain to pawn her clothes.
SEC. F. Look you, sir; a fair satin gown, new taffeta
petticoat——
FRI. Stay, this petticoat has been turned.
SEC. F. Often turned up and down, and[448] you will, but
never turned, sir.
FRI. Cry you mercy, indeed.
SEC. F. A fine white beaver, pearl band, three
falls;[449] I ha’ known her have more in her days.
FRI. Alas, and she be but a gentlewoman of any count or
charge, three falls are nothing in these days! know
that: tut, the world’s changed; gentlewomen’s[450] falls
stand upright now; no sin but has a bolster, that it may
lie at ease. Well, what do you borrow of these, sir?
SEC. F. Twelve pound, and you will, sir.
FRI. How?
SEC. F. They were not her’s for twenty.
FRI. Why, so; our pawn is ever thrice the value of our
money, unless in plate and jewels; how should the months
be restored and the use else? We must cast it for the
twelvemonth, so many pounds, so many months, so many
eighteenpences; then the use of these eighteenpences;
then the want of the return of those pounds: all these
must be laid together; which well considered, the
valuation of the pawn had need to sound treble. Can six
pound pleasure the gentlewoman?
SEC. F. It may please her, but, like a man of
threescore, in the limberest degree.
FRI. I have but one word more to say in’t; twenty
nobles[451] is all and the utmost that I will hazard
upon’t.
SEC. F. She must be content with’t: the less borrowed,
the better paid; come.
FRI. Arthur.
AR. At hand, sir.
FRI. Tell out twenty nobles, and take her name in a
bill.
SEC. F. I’m satisfied, sir. [_Exit with_ ARTHUR.
FRI. Welcome, good Saint Martin’s-in-the-Field, welcome,
welcome! I know no other name.

_Enter_ PRIMERO.

PRI. What, so hard at your prayers?
FRI. A little, sir; summing up my pawns here—what,
master Primero, is it you, sir gallant? and how do[452]
all the pretty sweet ladies, those plump, kind, delicate
blisses, ha? whom I kiss in my very thoughts,—how do
they, gallant?
PRI. Why, gallant, if they should not do well in my
house, where should it be done, boy? have I not a
glorious situation?
FRI. O, a gallant receipt,—violet air, curious garden,
quaint walks, fantastical arbours, three back doors, and
a coach-gate! nay, thou’rt admirably seated: little
furniture will serve thee; thou’rt never without
moveables.
PRI. Ay, praise my stars! Ah, the goodly virginities
that have been cut up in my house, and the goodly
patrimonies that have lain like sops in the gravy! and
when those sops were eaten, yet the meat was kept whole
for another, and another, and another; for as in one pie
twenty may dip their sippits, so upon one woman forty
may consume their patrimonies.
FRI. Excellent, master Primero!
PRI. Well, I will[453] pray for women while I live;
They’re the profitablest fools, I’ll say that for ’em,
A man can keep ’bout his house; the prettiest kind fowl;
So tame, so gentle, e’en to strangers’ hands
So soon familiar; suffer to be touch’d
Of those they ne’er saw twice: the dove’s not like ’em.
FRI. Most certain, for that’s honest: but I have
A suit to you.
PRI. And so have I to you.
FRI. That happens well: grant mine, and I’ll grant
yours.
PRI. A match.
FRI. Make me perfect in that trick that got you so much
at primero.[454]
PRI. O, for the thread tied at your partner’s leg,
The twitch?
FRI. Ay, that twitch, and[455] you call it[456] so.
PRI. That secret twitch got me five hundred pound
Ere ’twas first known, and since I ha’ sold it well:
Five hundred pound laid down shall not yet buy
The fee-simple of my twitch: I would be here with’t.
’Twas a blest invention;
I’d[457] been a beggar many a lousy year
But for my twitch: it was the prettiest twitch!
Many over-cheated gulls have fatted
Me with the bottom of their patrimonies,
E’en to the last sop, gaped while I fed ’em,
Who now live by that art that first undid ’em.
But I must swear you to be secret, close.
FRI. As a maid at ten.
PRI. Had you sworn but two years higher
I would ne’er ha’ believ’d you.
FRI. Nay, I let twelve alone,
For after twelve has struck, maids look for one.
PRI. I look for one too, and a maid, I think.
FRI. What, to come hither?
PRI. Sure, she follows me: a pretty, fat-eyed wench,
with a Venus in her cheek: did but raiment smile upon
her, she were nectar for great dons, boy: and that’s my
suit to thee.
FRI. And that’s granted already. Of what volume is this
book, that I may fit a cover to’t?
PRI. Faith, neither in folio nor in decimo sexto, but in
octavo, between both; a pretty, middle-sized trug.[458]
FRI. Then I have fitted her already, in my eye, i’faith.
Here came a pawn in e’en now will make shift to serve
her as fit!—look you, sir gallant[459]—satin, taffeta,
beaver, fall,[460] and all.
PRI. Is it new?
FRI. New? you see it bears her youth as freshly——
PRI. A pretty suit of clothes, i’faith: but put case the
party should come to redeem ’em of a sudden?
FRI. Pooh, then your wit’s sickly: have not I the
policy, think you, to seem extreme busy, and defer ’em
till the morrow? against which time that pawn shall be
secretly fetched home, and another carried out to supply
the place.
PRI. I like thy craft well there.
FRI. A general course. O, frippery[461] is an unknown
benefit, sir gallant!
PRI. And what must I give you for the hire now, i’faith?
FRI. Of the whole suit, for the month?
PRI. Ay, for the month.
FRI. Go to, you shall give me but twelvepence a-day;
master Primero, you’re a friend, and I’ll use you so:
’tis got up at your house in an afternoon, i’faith, the
hire of the whole month: ye must think I can distinguish
spirits, and put a difference between you and others;
you pay no more, i’faith.
PRI. I could have offered you no less myself.
FRI. Tut, a man must use a friend as a friend may use
him: your house has been a sweet house to me, both for
pleasure and profit; I’ll give you your due: _omne tulit
punctum_, you have always kept fine punks in your house,
that’s for pleasure, _qui miscuit utile dulci_, and I
have had sweet pawns from ’em, that’s for profit now.
PRI. You flatter, you flatter, sir gallant,—but whist!
here she enters: I prithee, question her.

_Enter Novice._

O, you’re welcome!
FRI. Is this your new scholar, master Primero?
PRI. Marry is she, sir.
FRI. I’ll commend your judgment in a wench while I
live: that face will get money, i’faith; ’twill be a
get-penny, I warrant you.—Go to, your fortune was
choice, pretty bliss, to fall into the regard of so
kind a gentleman.
NOV. I hope so, sir.
FRI. See what his care has provided already for you;
you’ll be simply set out to the world! If you’ll have
that care now to deserve his pains, O that will be
acceptable! and these be the rudiments you must chiefly
point at: to counterfeit cunningly, to wind in gentlemen
with powerful attraction to keep his house in name and
custom, to dissemble with your own brother, never to
betray your fellows’ imperfections nor lay open the
state of their bodies to strangers, to believe those
that give you, to gull those that believe you, to laugh
at all under taffeta; and these be your rudiments.
PRI. There’s e’en all, i’faith; we’ll trouble you with
no more; nay, you shall live at ease enough: for nimming
away jewels and favours from gentlemen, which are your
chief vails, [I] hope that will come naturally enough to
you, I need not instruct you; you’ll have that wit, I
trust, to make the most of your pleasure.
NOV. I hope one’s mother-wit will serve for that, sir.
PRI. O, properest of all, wench! it must be a she-wit
that does those things, and thy mother was quick enough
at it in her days.
FRI. Give me leave, sister, to examine you upon two or
three particulars:—and you make you ready,[462] be not
ashamed; here’s none but friends—are you a maid?
NOV. Yes, in the last quarter, sir.
FRI. Very proper, that’s e’en going out: a maid in the
last quarter, that’s a whore in the first: let me see,
new moon on Thursday; she’ll be changed[463] by that
time too. Are you willing to pleasure gentlemen?
NOV. We are all born to pleasure our country, forsooth.
FRI. Excellent! Can you carry yourself cunningly, and
seem often holy?
NOV. O, fear not that, sir! my friends were all
Puritans.
FRI. I’ll ne’er try her further.
PRI. She’s done well, i’faith: I fear not now to turn
her loose to any gentleman in Europe.
FRI. You need not, sir: of her own accord, I think
she’ll be loose enough without turning.—Arthur.

_Re-enter_ ARTHUR.

AR. Here, sir.
FRI. Go, make haste, shift her into that suit presently.
AR. It shall be done.
PRI. Arthur, do’t neatly, Arthur.
AR. Fear’t not, sir. [_Exit._
PRI. Follow him, wench.
NOV. With all my heart, sir. [_Exit._
PRI. But, mass, sir,[464]
In what are we forgetful all this while!
FRI. In what?
PRI. The wooing business, man.
FRI. Heart, that’s true!
PRI. The gallants will prevent[465] us.
FRI. Are you certain?
PRI. I can avouch it: there’s a general meeting
At the deceas’d knight’s house this afternoon;
There’s rivalship enough.
FRI. No doubt in that:
Would either thou or I might bear her from ’em!
PRI. My hopes are not yet faint.
FRI. Nor mine.
PRI. Tut, man,
Nothing in women’s hearts sooner win[s] place
Than a brave outside and an impudent face.
FRI. And for both those we’ll fit it.
PRI. Ay, if the devil be not in’t: make haste.
FRI. I follow straight. [_Exit_ PRIMERO.
Vanish, thou fog, and sink beneath our brightness,
Abashed at the splendour of such beams!
We scorn thee, base eclipser of our glories,
That wouldst have hid our shine from mortal’s eyes.
Now, gallants, I’m[466] for you, ay, and perhaps before
you:
You can appear but glorious from yourselves,
And have your beams but drawn from your own light,
But mine from many,—many make me bright.
Here’s a diamond that sometimes graced the finger of a
countess; here sits a ruby that ne’er lins[467] blushing
for the party that pawned it; here a sapphire. O
providence and fortune! my beginning was so poor, I
would fain forget it; and I take the only course, for I
scorn to think on’t; slave to a trencher, observer of a
salt-cellar, privy to nothing but a close-stool, or such
unsavoury secret: but as I strive to forget the days of
my serving, so I shall once remember the first step of
my raising; for, having hardly raked five mark[s][468]
together, I rejoiced so in that small stock, which most
providently I ventured by water to Blackwall among
fishwives; and in small time, what by weekly return and
gainful restitution, it rize[469] to a great body,
beside a dish of fish for a present, that stately
preserved me a seven-night.

Nor[470] ceas’d it there, but drew on greater profit;
For I was held religious by those
That do profess like abstinence,
And was full often secretly supplied
By charitable Catholics,
Who censur’d[471] me sincerely abstinate,
When merely I for hunger, not[472] for zeal,
Eat up the fish, and put their alms to use!
Ha, ha, ha!
But those times are run out; and, for my sake,
Zealous dissemblance has since far’d the worse.
Let me see now, whose cloak shall I wear to-day to
continue change?—O—Arthur!

_Re-enter_ ARTHUR.

AR. Here, sir.
FRI. Bring down Sir Oliver Needy’s taffeta cloak and
beaver hat—I am sure he is fast enough in the Knight’s
ward[473]—and Andrew Lucifer’s rapier and dagger with
the embossed girdle and hangers[474] [_exit_ ARTHUR],
for he’s in his third sweat by this time, sipping of
the doctor’s bottle, or picking the ninth part of a
rack of mutton dry-roasted, with a leash of nightcaps
on his head like the pope’s triple crown, and as many
pillows crushed to his back, with O-the-needles! for
he got the pox of a sempster, and it pricked so much
more naturally. Quick, Arthur, quick.

_Re-enter_ ARTHUR, _with cloak, &c., which_ FRIPPERY
_puts on_.

Now to the deceas’d knight’s daughter,
Whom many gallants sue to, I ’mongst many;
For
Since impudence gains more respect than virtue,
And coin than[475] blood, which few can now deny,
Who’re your chief gallants then but such as I?
[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_An Apartment in_ KATHERINE’S _House_.

_Enter_ KATHERINE _and_ FITSGRAVE.

FIT. You do your beauties injury, sweet virgin,
To lose the time they must rejoice in youth:
There’s no perfection in a woman plac’d
But wastes itself though it be never wasted;
Then judge your wrongs[476] yourself.
KAT. Good master Fitsgrave,
Through sorrow for the knight my father’s death,
(Whose being was the perfection[477] of my joy
And crown of my desires), I cannot yet
But forcedly on marriage fix my heart:
Yet heaven forbid I should deject your hopes!
Conceive not of me so uncharitably;
I should belie my soul if I should say
You are the man I never should affect.
I understand you thus far, you’re a gentleman,
Whom your estate and virtues may commend[478]
To a far worthier breast than this of mine.
FIT. O cease! I dare not hear such blasphemy.
What is without you worthy I neglect;
In you is plac’d the worth that I respect.
Vouchsafe,[479] unequall’d virgin, [to] accept
This worthless favour from your servant’s arm,
The hallow’d beads, whereon I justly kept
The true and perfect number of my sighs.
[_Gives a chain of pearl._
KAT. Mine cannot equal yours, yet in exchange
Accept and wear it for my sake. [_Gives a jewel._
FIT. Even as my [life] I’ll rate it.

_Enter_ GOLDSTONE, PURSENET, TAILBY, FRIPPERY, PRIMERO,
_and Boy_, _at the farther door_.

GOL. Heart! Fitsgrave in such bosom single-loves?
PUR. So close and private with her!
TAI. Observe ’em; he grows proud and bold.
FRI. Why, was not this a general meeting?
PRI. By her own consent. Death, how I could taste his
blood!
KAT. See, the gentlemen,
At my request, do all present themselves.
GOL. Manifold blisses wait on her desire,
Whose beauty and whose mind so many honour!
KAT. I take your wishes thankfully, kind gentlemen,
All here assembled, over whose long suits
I ne’er insulted;
Nor, like that common sickness of our sex,
Grew proud in the abundance of my suitors,
Or number of the days they sued unto me.
Dutiful sorrow for my father’s death,
Not wilful coyness, hath my hours detain’d
So long in silence.
I’m left to mine own choice: so much the more
My care calls on me: if I err through love,
’Tis I must chide myself; I cannot shift
The fault unto my parents, they’re at rest;
And I shall sooner err through love than wealth.
GOL. Good!
PUR. Excellent!
TAI. That likes[480] me well.
PRI. Hope still.
KAT. And my affections do pronounce you all
Worthy their pure and most entire deserts:
Yet they can choose but one;
Nor do I dissuade any of his hopes,
Because my heart is not yet throughly fix’d
On marriage or the man,
But crave the quiet respite of one month,
The month unto this night; against which time
I do invite you all to that election,
Which, on my unstain’d faith and virgin promise,
Shall light amongst no strangers, but yourselves.
May this content you?
[_While she is speaking, the Boy steals from her
the chain of pearl._
ALL. Glad and content!
KAT. ’Tis a good time to leave:
Till then commend us to your gentlest thoughts.
[_Exit._
ALL. Enough.
FIT. Ough!

[_The gallants look scurvily upon_ FITSGRAVE, _and_
_he upon them. Exeunt_ GOLDSTONE, TAILBY,
FRIPPERY, _and_ PRIMERO. _As_ PURSENET _is going
out, the Boy takes him into a corner_.
BOY. Hist, master, hist!
PUR. Boy, how now?
BOY. Look you, sir.
PUR. Her chain of pearl?
BOY. I sneckt it away finely.
PUR. Active boy,
Thy master’s best revenue, his life and soul!
Thou keep’st ’em both together: whip, away.
[_Exit Boy._
Fall back, fall belly, I must be maintain’d:
Hope is no purchase;[481]
Nor care I if I miss her. Why I rank
In this design with gallants, there’s full cause;
Policy invites me to it:
’Tis not for love, or for her sake alone;
It keeps my state suspectless and unknown.
[_Aside, and exit._
FIT. Their looks run through and through me, and the
stings
Of their snake-hissing whispers pierc’d my hearing.
They’re mad she grac’d me with one private minute
Above their fortunes: I’ve[482] observed ’em often
Most spitefully aspécted toward my happiness,
Beyond all others; but the cause I know not.
A quiet month the virgin has enclos’d
Unto herself; suitors stand without till then:
In which space cunningly I’ll wind myself
Into their bosoms. I’ve bethought the shape;
Some credulous scholar, easily infected
With fashion, time, and humour: unto such
Their deepest thoughts will, like to wanton fishes,
Play above water, and be all parts seen:
For since at me their envy pines, I’ll see
Whether their lives from touch of blame sit free.
[_Exit._