Chapter IX: Act II: Scene I

_A Room in_ PURGE’S _House_.

_Enter_ PURGE.
PUR. The grey-eyed morning braves me to my face, and
calls me sluggard: ’tis time for tradesmen to be in
their shops; for he that tends well his shop, and hath
an alluring wife with a graceful _what d’ye lack_?[225]
shall be sure to have good doings, and good doings is
that that crowns so many citizens with the horns of
abundance. My wife, by ordinary course, should this
morning have been at the Family, but now her soft pillow
hath given her counsel to keep her bed: master doctor
should indeed minister to her; to whose pills she is so
much accustomed, that now her body looks for them as
duly as the moon shakes off the old and borrows new
horns. I smile to myself to hear our knights and
gallants say how they gull us citizens, when, indeed, we
gull them, or rather they gull themselves. Here they
come in term-time, hire chambers, and perhaps kiss our
wives: well, what lose I by that? God’s blessing on’s
heart, I say still, that makes much of my wife! for they
were very hard-favoured that none could find in’s heart
to love but ourselves: drugs would be dog-cheap, but for
my private well-practised doctor and such customers.
Tut, jealousy is a hell; and they that will thrive must
utter their wares as they can, and wink at small faults.
[_Exit._

SCENE II.

_A Street._

_Enter_ GLISTER.

GLI. The tedious night is past, and the jocund morn
looks more lively and fresh than an old gentlewoman’s
glazed face in a new periwig. By this time my humorous
lover is at Gravesend; and I go with more joy to fetch
his trunk than ever the valiant Trojans did to draw in
the Grecian jade: his goods shall into the walls of my
Troy, and be offered to a face more lovely[226] than
ever was that thrice-ravished Helen[’s]; yet with such
caution that no danger shall happen to me. [_Exit._

SCENE III.

_Another Street._

_Enter_ LIPSALVE _and_ SHRIMP, _meeting_ GUDGEON _and_
PERIWINKLE.

GUD. Master Lipsalve, welcome within ken: we two are so
nearly linked, that if thou beest absent but one two
hours, thy acquaintance grows almost mouldy in my
memory.
LIP. And thine[227] fly-blown in mine: how dost thou do?
SHR. Fellow page, I think our acquaintance runs low
too; but if it run not o’ the lees, let’s set it
a-tilt, and give ’em some dregs to their mouldy,
fly-blown compliments.
PER. No, rather let’s pierce the rundlets of our running
heads, and give ’em a neat cup of wagship to put down
their courtship.
SHR. Courtship? cartship! for the tongues of
complimenters run on wheels: but mark ’em; they ha’ not
done yet.
GUD. And, i’faith, how is’t? methinks thou hast been a
long vagrant.
LIP. The rogation[228] hath been long indeed: therefore
we may salute as ceremoniously as lawyers when they meet
after a long vacation, who, to renew the discontinued
state tale, they stretch it out with such length, that
whilst they greet before, their clients kiss them
behind.
SHR. If his nose were put i’ the remainder of that state
tale, he would say ’twere an unsavoury one.
PER. I wonder why many men gird[229] so at the law.
GUD. But what news now? how stands the state of things
at Brussels?
LIP. Faith, weak and limber, weak and limber: nothing
but pride and double-dealing: virtue is vice’s lackey;
beggars suck like horse-leeches at the heart of bounty,
and leave him[230] so tired and spur-galled that he can
be no longer ridden with honesty.
SHR. I’ll tell thee, because they themselves have
neither law nor conscience.
GUD. Well fare the city yet! there virtue rides a
cockhorse, cherished and kept warm in good sables and
fox-fur, and with the breath of his nostrils drives
pride and covetousness before him, like’s own shadow:
beggars have whipping cheer: bounty obliges[231] men
to’t; and liberality gives money for scrips and scrolls,
sealed with strong arms and heraldry to outlive
mortality: love there will see the last man born, never
give over while there’s an arrow i’ th’ quiver.
LIP. Now we talk of love, I do know, not far hence, so
good a subject for that humour, that if she would wear
but the standing collar and her things in fashion, our
ladies in the court were but brown sugar-candy, as gross
as grocery to her.
GUD. She is not so sweet as a ’pothecary’s shop, is she?
LIP. A plague on you! ha’ you so good a scent?—For my
life, he’s my rival. [_Aside._
GUD. Her name begins with mistress Purge, does it not?
LIP. True, the only comet of the city.
GUD. Ay, if she would let her ruffs stream out a little
wider: but I am sure she is ominous to me; she makes
civil wars and insurrections in the state of my stomach:
I had thought to have bound myself from love, but her
purging comfits make[232] me loose-bodied still.
LIP. What, has she ministered to thee then?
GUD. Faith, some lectuary[233] or so.
LIP. Ay, I fear she takes too much of that lectuary to
stoop to love; it keeps her body soluble from sin: she
is not troubled with carnal crudities nor the binding of
the flesh.
GUD. Thou hast sounded her then, belike.
LIP. Not I, I am too shallow to sound her; she’s out of
my element: if I shew passion and discourse of love to
her, she tells me I am wide from the right scope; she
says she has another object, and aims at a better love
than mine.
GUD. O, that’s her husband.
LIP. No, no; she speaks pure devotion: she’s
impenetrable; no gold or oratory, no virtue in herbs nor
no physic will make her love.
GUD. More is the pity, I say, that fair women should
prove saints before age had made them crooked.—’Tis my
luck to be crossed still, but I must not give over the
chase. [_Aside._
LIP. Come hither, boy, while I think on’t.
[LIPSALVE _talks apart to_ SHRIMP.
GUD. Faith, friend Lipsalve, I perceive you would fain
play with my love. A pure creature ’tis, for whom I
have sought every angle[234] of my brain; but either
she scorns courtiers, as most of them do, because they
are given to boast of their doings, or else she’s
exceeding strait-laced: therefore to prevent[235] this
smell-smock, I’ll to my friend doctor Glister, a man
exquisite in th’ art magic, who hath told me of many
rare experiments available in this case. [_Aside._]—
Farewell, friend Lipsalve.
LIP. Adieu, honest Gregory: frequent my lodging; I have
a viol de gambo and good tobacco. [_Exeunt_ GUDGEON
_and_ PERIWINKLE.]—Thou wilt do this feat, boy?
SHR. Else knock my head and my pate together.
LIP. Away then: bid him bring his measure with him.
[_Exit_ SHRIMP.]— Gerardine is travelled, and I must
needs be cast into his mould. My flesh grows proud; and
Maria’s a sweet wench, &c.[236] But yet I must not let
fall my suit with mistress Purge, lest, _sede vacante_,
my friend Gudgeon join issue:
I’ll rather to my learned doctor for a spell,
For I have a fire in my liver[237] burns like hell.
[_Exit._

SCENE IV.

_A Room in_ GLISTER’S _House_.

_Enter_ MISTRESS GLISTER _and_ MARIA.

MIS. G. I pray,[238] let’s have no polluted feet nor
rheumatic chaps enter the house; I shall have my floor
look more greasy shortly than one of your inn-of-court
dining-tables.—And now to you, good niece, I bend my
speech. Let me tell you plainly, you are a fool to be
love-sick for any man longer than he is in your company:
are you so ignorant in the rules of courtship, to think
any one man to bear all the prick and praise?[239] I
tell thee, be he never so proper, there is another to
second him.
MAR. Let rules of courtship be authentic still
To such as do pursue variety;
But unto those whose modest thoughts do tend
To hoour’d nuptials and a regular life,
As far from shew of niceness[240] as from that
Of impure thoughts, all other objects seem
Of no proportion,[241] balanc’d with esteem
Of what their souls affect.
MIS. G. No marvel[242] sure you should regard these men
with such reverend opinion: there’s few good faces and
fewer graces in any of them: if one among a multitude
have a good pair of legs, he never leaves riding the
ring till he has quite marred the proportion: nay, some,
as I have heard, wanting lineaments to their liking and
calf to support themselves, are fain to use art, and
supply themselves with quilted calves, which oftentimes,
in revelling, fall about their ankles; and for their
behaviour, wit, and discourse, except some few that are
travelled, it is as imperfectious and silly as your
scholars new come from the university. By this light, I
think we lose part of our happiness, when we make these
weathercocks our equals.
MAR. Disgrace not that for which our sect[243] was
made,
Society[244] in nuptials: ’bove those joys
Which lovers taste when their conjoined lips
Suck forth each other’s souls, the earth, the air,
Yea, gods themselves, know none. Elysium’s sweet,
Ay, all that bliss which poets’ pens describe,
Are only known when soft and amorous folds
Entwine the corps of two united lovers,
Where what they wish they have, yet still desire,
And sweets are known without satiety.[245]

_Enter_ VIAL.

VIAL.[246] Here’s Club, forsooth, and his fellow
’prentice have brought master Gerardine’s trunk.
MIS. G. Let them come in if their feet be clean. [_Exit_
VIAL.]—So, then, your best-beloved is gone; fair
weather after him! all thy passions[247], go with him!
recomfort thyself, wench, in a better choice: his love
to thee would have been of no longer continuance than
the untrussing of his hose;[248] then why shouldst thou
pine for such a one?
MAR. She’s foolish sure: with what imperfect phrase
And shallow wit she answers me! [_Aside._

_Enter_ CLUB _and another Apprentice, with a trunk_.

MIS. G. Honest Club, welcome: is this master
Gerardine’s trunk? he is gone then?
CLUB. Ay, indeed, mistress Glister, he is departed this
transitory city, but his whole substance is here
enclosed; which, by command, we here deliver to your
custody, to the use of mistress Maria, according to the
tenour of the premises.
MIS. G. Place it here, my honest Club: well done: and
how does thy mistress? was she at the Family to-day?
[CLUB _spits_.] Spit not, good Club, I cannot abide it.
CLUB. Not to-day, forsooth; she hath overcharged herself
and her memory: she means to use a moderation, and take
no more than she can make use of.
MIS. G. And, I prithee, Club, what kind of creatures are
these Familists? thou art conversant with them.
CLUB. What are they? with reverence be it spoken, they
are the most accomplished creatures under heaven; in
them is all perfection.
MIS. G. As how, good Club?
CLUB. Omitting their outward graces, I’ll shew you only
one instance, which includes all other; they love their
neighbours better than themselves.
MIS. G. Not than themselves, Club.
CLUB. Yes, better than themselves; for they love them
better than their husbands, and husband and wife are all
one; therefore, better than themselves.
MIS. G. This is logic: but tell me, doth she not
endeavour to bring my doctor of her side and fraternity?
CLUB. Let him resolve[249] that himself, for here he
comes.

_Enter_ GLISTER.

GLI. O, hast thou brought the trunk, honest Club?
I commend thy honest care: here’s for thy pains.
[_Giving money._
CLUB. I thank you, master doctor; you are free and
liberal still: you’ll command me nothing back?
GLI. Nothing but commendations: farewell. [_Exeunt_ CLUB
_and Apprentice_.]—Your sweetheart Gerardine is by this
time cold of his hope to enjoy thee: he’s gone; and a
more equal and able husband shall my care ere long
provide thee.—What clients have been here in my absence,
wife?
MIS. G. Faith, mouse,[250] none that I know more than an
old woman that had lost her cat, and came to you for a
spell in the recovery.
GLI. I think egregious ignorance will go near to
save this age; their blindness takes me for a
conjuror: yesterday a justice of peace salutes me
with proffer of a brace of angels[251] to help him
to his footcloth,[252] some three days before
stolen, and was fain to use his man’s cloak instead
on’t.

_Re-enter_ VIAL.

VIAL. Here’s a gentleman craves speech with you, sir.
GLI. Go in, sweet wife, and give my niece good counsel.
[_Exeunt_ MISTRESS GLISTER _and_ MARIA.

—His name?
VIAL. He will not tell it me.
GLI. His countenance?
VIAL. I can see nothing but his eyes: the rest of him is
so wrapt in cloak that it suffers no view.
GLI. Admit him. [_Exit_ VIAL.]—What should he be for a
man?[253]

_Enter_ LIPSALVE.

What, master Lipsalve, is’t you? why thus obscured? what
discontent overshadows you?
LIP. A discontent indeed, master doctor, which to shake
off I must have you extend your art to the utmost
bounds. You physicians are as good as false doors behind
hangings to ladies’ necessary uses: you know the very
hour in which they have neither will to deny nor wit to
mistrust: faith now, by the way, when are women most
apt?
GLI. Shall I unbutton myself unto you? after the receipt
of a purgation, for then are their pores most open: but
what creature of a courtier is it hath drawn your head
into the woodcock’s noose?
LIP. A courtier? nay, by this flesh, I am clean fallen
out with them; they have nothing proportionable.
GLI. O, I perceive, then, ’tis some city star that
attracts your aspect.
LIP. He knows by his art. [_Aside._]—In plain terms, a
certain ’pothecary’s wife.
GLI. Upon my life, mistress[254] Purge: I smell you,
sir.
LIP. You may smell a man after a purgation: indeed, sir,
’tis she. Now, for that fame hath bruited[255] you to be
a man expert in necromancy, I would endear[256] myself
to you for ever, would you vouchsafe to let one of your
spirits bring mistress Purge into some convenient place,
where I might enjoy her: I have heard of the like: can
you perform this?
GLI. With much facility, I assure you: but you must
understand that the apparition of a spirit is dreadful,
and withal covetous, and with no small sum of gold hired
to such feats.

_Re-enter_ VIAL.

VIAL. Sir, here’s another gentleman, muffled too, that
desires present conference with you.
GLI. Walk you into that room: I will bethink myself for
your good, and instantly resolve[257] you. [_Exit_
LIPSALVE.]—Let the gentleman come in. [_Exit_ VIAL.]—
Lipsalve in love with my vessel of ease? come to me to
help him to a morsel most affected by mine own palate?
No more but so: I have shaped it; the conceit tickles
me.

_Enter_ GUDGEON.

Sir, as a stranger I welcome you—what, master Gudgeon,
have I caught you? I thought it was a gallant that
walked muffled: come, let me behold you at full; here
are no sergeants, man.
GUD. Master doctor, this my obscure coming requires an
action more obscure; and, in brief, this ’tis. Sir, you
are held a man far seen in nature’s secrets; I know you
can effect many things almost impossible: know, then, I
love mistress Purge, and opportunity favours me not, nor
indeed is she so tractable as I expected: if either by
medicine or your art magical you can work her to my
will, I have a poor gallant’s reward, sir.
GLI. That’s just nothing. [_Aside._]—But how, sir, would
you have me to procure you access to mistress Purge? you
never knew a physician a bawd.
GUD. Why, by conjuration, I tell you, wherein you are
said to be as well practised as in physic: here’s the
best part of my present store to effect it.
[_Giving money._

GLI. Not a penny for myself; but my spirits, indeed,
they must be feed.[258] Walk you by here, while I think
upon a spell. [GUDGEON _retires_.]—What mystery should
this be? Lipsalve and Gudgeon both in love with mistress
Purge, and come to me to help ’em by art magic? ’Tis
some gullery sure; yet, if my invention hold, I’ll fit
them.—Who’s within there?

_Enter Servant._[259]

Fetch me, in all haste, two good whips; I think you may
have them not far hence. [_Exit Servant._]—It shall be
so. [_Aside._]—Now, tell me, master Gudgeon, does no man
know of your love to mistress Purge?
GUD. Not a man, by my gentry.
GLI. Then, sir, know I’ll effect it; but understand
withal the apparition will be most horrid if it appear
in his proper form, and will so amaze and dull your
senses, that your appetite will be lost and weak, though
mistress Purge should attend it naked. Now, sir, could
you name a friend with whom you are most conversant, in
his likeness should the spirit appear.
GUD. Of all men living my conversation is most frequent
with Lipsalve the courtier.
GLI. ’Tis enough: I’ll to my spirit. [GUDGEON _retires,
and_ GLISTER _writes a few words_.]—Are these whips come
there?

_Re-enter Servant with whips._

SER. Ready here, sir. [_Exit._
GLI. So, lie thou[260] there. My noble gallants, I’ll so
firk you! [_Aside._]—Sir, my spirit agrees in Lipsalve’s
shape: to-morrow, ’twixt the hours of four and five,
shall mistress Purge be rapt with a whirlwind into
Lipsalve’s chamber: that’s the fittest place, for, by
the break of day, Lipsalve shall be mounted and forsake
the city for three days; so my spirit resolves[261] me.
Now, sir, by my art, at that very hour shall his
chamber-door fly open; into which boldly enter in this
sort accoutred; put me on a pure clean shirt, leave off
your doublet (for spirits endure nothing polluted), take
me this whip in your hand, and, being entered, you shall
see the spirit in Lipsalve’s shape, in the self-same
form that you appear; speak these words here ready
written [_giving a paper_], take three bold steps
forward, then whip him soundly, who straight vanisheth,
and leaves mistress Purge to your will.
GUD. Ay, but shall your spirit come armed with a whip
too?
GLI. He shall, but have no power to strike.
GUD. Is this infallible? have you seen the proof?
GLI. _Probatum_, upon my word; I have seen the
experience: if it fail, say I am a fool, and no
magician.
GUD. Master doctor, I would you had some suit at court;
by the faith of a courtier, I would beg it for you. Fare
you well, sir: I shall report of you as I find your
charm.
GLI. And no otherwise, sir: let me understand how you
thrive. [_Exit_ GUDGEON.]—Ha, ha, ha! Now to my friend
Lipsalve: I must possess him with the same circumstance;
wherein I am assured to get perpetual laughter in their
follies and my revenge. [_Exit._

_Re-enter_ MARIA.[262]

MAR. O, which way shall I turn, or shift, or go,
To lose one thought of care? no soothing hope
Gives intermission, or beguiles one hour
Of tedious time, which never will have end,
Whilst love pursues in vain my absent friend.
Thou continent of wealth, whose want of store,
For that it could not peize[263] th’ unequal scale
Of avarice, giv’st matter to my moan!
O dross, the level of insatiate eyes,
The devil’s engine, and the soul’s corrupter,
Thou play’st th’ attorney ’gainst the lawful force
Of true affection, dost interpose a bar
’Twixt hearts conjoin’d! curs’d be thy seed of strife,
Whose progress chokes the natural course of life!

[GERARDINE _rises out of the trunk, while_
MARIA _retreats in alarm_.

MAR. O, help, help, help!
GER. Stay, sweet Maria! I bring thee ample joy
To check that sudden fear: let thy sweet heart,
That constant seat of thy affection,
Repay that blood exhausted from thy veins.
Fear not, sweet wench: I am no apparition,
But the firm substance of thy truest friend:
Know’st thou me now?
MAR. Gerardine, my love?
[O] what unheard-of accident presents
Thy unexpected self, and gives my heart
Matter of joy, mix’d with astonishment?
I thought thou had’st been cabin’d in thy ship,
Not trunk’d within my cruel guardian’s house.
GER. That cruelty gives fuel to desire;
For love suppress’d fares like a raging fire,
Which burns all obstacles that stop his course,
And mounts aloft. The ocean in his source
May easier hide himself and be confin’d,
Than love can be obscur’d; for in the mind
She holds her seat, and through that heavenly essence
Is near when far remote; her virtual presence
Fills, like the air, all places, gives delight,
Hope in despair, and heart ’gainst fell despite.
That worst of men, thy cruel guardian, may
Keep down awhile, but cannot dissipate
What heaven hath join’d; for fate and providence
Gave me this stratagem, to let him know
That love will creep where ’tis restrain’d to go.
MAR. I apprehend the rest: O rare conceit!
I see thy travel happily was feign’d
To win access, which with small ease thou’st[264]
gain’d.
This trunk, which he so greedily supposes
Contains thy substance (as it doth indeed),
Upon thy fair pretence in lieu of love
Bequeath’d to me, if death should stop the course,—
This trunk, I say, he hugs; sink thou or swim,
So he may feed his wolf, that root of sin,
His avarice: but heaven, that mocks man’s might,
Gives this close means t’ insist upon our right.
GER. Ingenious spirit, true oracle of love!
Thou hast prevented[265] me: this was my plot,
Whose end and scope I long to imitate
With accents free, and uncontroll’d with fear.
Does opportunity stand fair?
MAR. Not now:
Danger stands sentinel.
GER. Then I’ll retire:
We must be cautelous.[266]
[_He goes again into the trunk._
MAR. So, so: and time
Shall not oft turn his hour-glass ere I’ll find
Place[267] and occasion fitting to thy mind. [_Exit._