THE WILD-GOOSE CHASE by JOHN FLETCHER

@3DRAMATIS PERSONÆ@1.

DE GARD, a noble staid Gentleman, that, being newly lighted from his Travels,
assists his Sister ORIANA in her chase of MIRABEL the WILD-GOOSE.
LA CASTRE, the indulgent Father to MIRABEL.
MIRABEL, the WILD-GOOSE, a travelled Monsieur, and great defier of all Ladies
in
the way of Marriage, otherwise their much loose Servant, at last caught by the
despised ORIANA.
PINAC, his Fellow-Traveller, of a lively spirit, and Servant to the no less
sprightly LILLIA BIANCA.
BELLEUR, Companion to both, of a stout blunt humour, in love with ROSALURA.
NANTOLET, Father to ROSALURA and LILLIA BIANCA.
LUGIER, the rough and confident Tutor to the Ladies, and chief engine to
entrap
the WILD-GOOSE.
A Young Man disguised as a Factor.
Gentlemen, Foot-Boy, Singing-Boy, Two Men disguised as Merchants, Priest,
Servants.

ORIANA, the fair betrothed of MIRABEL, and witty follower of the Chase.
ROSALURA, the airy Daughters of NANTOLET.
LILLIA BIANCA,
PETELLA, their Waiting-Woman.
MARIANA, an English Courtezan.
Four Women.

@3SCENE,—PARIS@1.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.—@3A Hall in the House of@1 LA CASTRE.

@3Enter@1 DE GARD @3and a@1 Footboy.

DE GARD. Sirrah, you know I have rid hard; stir my horse well,
And let him want no litter.
@3F. Boy@1. I am sure I have run hard;
Would somebody would walk me, and see me littered,
For I think my fellow-horse cannot in reason
Desire more rest, nor take up his chamber before me:
But we are the beasts now, and the beasts are our masters.
@3De Gard@1. When you have done, step to the ten-crown ordinary_____
@3F. Boy@1. With all my heart, sir; for I have a twenty-crown stomach.
@3De Gard@1. And there bespeak a dinner.
@3F. Boy@1. [@3going@1.] Yes, sir, presently.
@3De Gard@1. For whom, I beseech you, sir?
@3F. Boy@1. For myself, I take it, sir.
@3De Gard@1. In truth, you shall not take it; 'tis not meant for
you:—
There's for your provender [@3Gives money@1.]:— bespeak a dinner
For Monsieur Mirabel and his companions;
They'll be in town within this hour. When you have done, sirrah,
Make ready all things at my lodging for me,
And wait me there.
@3F. Boy@1. The ten-crown ordinary?
@3De Gard@1. Yes, sir, if you have not forgot it.
@3F. Boy@1. I'll forget my feet first:
'Tis the best part of a footman's faith. [@3Exit.
De Gard@1. These youths,
For all they have been in Italy to learn thrift,
And seem to wonder at men's lavish ways,
Yet they cannot rub off old friends, their French itches;
They must meet sometimes to disport their bodies
With good wine and good women, and good store too:
Let 'em be what they will, they are armed at all points,
And then hang saving, let the sea grow high!
This ordinary can fit 'em of all sizes.
They must salute their country with old customs.

@3Enter@1 LA CASTRE @3and@1 ORIANA.

@3Ori@1. Brother!
@3De Gard@1. My dearest sister!
@3Ori@1. Welcome, welcome!
Indeed, you are welcome home, most welcome!
@3De Gard@1. Thank you.
You are grown a handsome woman, Oriana
(Blush at your faults): I am wondrous glad to see you.—
Monsieur La Castre, let not my affection
To my fair sister make me held unmannerly:
I am glad to see you well, to see you lusty,
Good health about you, and in fair company;
Believe me, I am proud_____
@3La Cast@1. Fair sir, I thank you.
Monsieur De Gard, you are welcome from your journey;
Good men have still good welcome: give me your hand, sir:
Once more, you are welcome home. You look still younger.
@3De Gard@1. Time has no leisure to look after us;
We wander every where; age cannot find us.
@3La Cast@1. And how does all?
@3De Gard@1. All well, sir, and all lusty.
@3La Cast@1. I hope my son be so: I doubt not, sir,
But you have often seen him in your journeys,
And bring me some fair news.
@3De Gard@1. Your son is well, sir,
And grown a proper gentleman; he is well and lusty.
Within this eight hours I took leave of him,
And over-hied him, having some slight business
That forced me out o' the way: I can assure you,
He will be here to-night.
@3La Cast@1. You make me glad, sir,
For, o' my faith, I almost long to see him:
Methinks, he has been away_____
@3De Gard@1. 'Tis but your tenderness;
What are three years? a love-sick wench will allow it.
His friends, that went out with him, are come back too,
Belleur and young Pinac. He bid me say little,
Because he means to be his own glad messenger.
@3La Cast@1. I thank you for this news, sir: he shall be welcome,
And his friends too: indeed, I thank you heartily:
And how (for I dare say you will not flatter him)
Has Italy wrought on him? has he mewed yet
His wild fantastic toys? they say, that climate
Is a great purger of those humorous fluxes:
How is he improved, I pray you?
@3De Gard@1. No doubt, sir, well;
H'as borne himself a full and noble gentleman:
To speak him farther is beyond my charter.
@3La Cast@1. I am glad to hear so much good. Come, I see
You long to enjoy your sister; yet I must entreat you,
Before I go, to sup with me to-night,
And must not be denied.
@3De Gard@1. I am your servant.
@3La Cast@1. Where you shall meet fair, merry, and noble company;
My neighbour Nantolet and his two fair daughters.
@3De Gard@1. Your supper's seasoned well, sir: I shall wait upon you.
@3La Cast@1. Till then I'll leave ye: and you're once more welcome.
@3De Gard@1. I thank you, noble sir! [@3Exit@1 LA CASTRE.
Now, Oriana,
How have you done since I went? have ye had your health well?
And your mind free?
@3Ori@1. You see, I am not bated;
Merry, and eat my meat.
@3De Gard@1. A good preservative.
And how have you been used? You know, Oriana,
Upon my going out, at your request,
I left your portion in La Castre's hands,
The main means you must stick to: for that reason,
And 'tis no little one, I ask you, sister,
With what humanity he entertains you,
And how you find his courtesy?
@3Ori@1. Most ready:
I can assure you, sir, I am used most nobly.
@3De Gard@1. I am glad to hear it: but, I prithee, tell me
And tell me true, what end had you, Oriana,
In trusting your money here? he is no kinsman,
Nor any tie upon him of a guardian;
Nor dare I think you doubt my prodigality.
@3Ori@1. No, certain, sir; none of all this provoked me;
Another private reason.
@3De Gard@1. 'Tis not private,
Nor carried so; 'tis common, my fair sister;
Your love to Mirabel: your blushes tell it:
'Tis too much known, and spoken of too largely;
And with no little shame I wonder at it.
@3Ori@1. Is it a shame to love?
@3De Gard@1. To love undiscreetly:
A virgin should be tender of her honour
Close, and secure.
@3Ori@1. I am as close as can be,
And stand upon as strong and honest guards too;
Unless this warlike age need a portcullis:
Yet, I confess, I love him.
@3De Gard@1. Hear the people.
@3Ori@1. Now, I say, hang the people! he, that dares
Believe what they say, dares be mad, and give
His mother, nay, his own wife, up to rumour:
All grounds of truth they build on is a tavern,
And their best censure's sack, sack in abundance;
For, as they drink, they think: they ne'er speak modestly.
Unless the wine be poor, or they want money:
Believe them! believe Amadis de Gaul,
The Knight o' the Sun, or Palmerin of England;
For these, to them, are modest and true stories.
Pray, understand me; if their tongues be truth,
And if @3in vino veritas@1 be an oracle,
What woman is, or has been ever, honest?
Give 'em but ten round cups, they'll swear Lucretia
Died not for want of power to resist Tarquin,
But want of pleasure, that he stayed no longer;
And Portia, that was famous for her piety
To her loved lord, they'll face you out, died o' the pox.
@3De Gard@1. Well, there is something, sister.
@3Ori@1. If there be, brother,
'Tis none of their things; 'tis not yet so monstrous:
My thing is marriage; and, at his return,
I hope to put their squint eyes right again.
@3De Gard@1. Marriage? 'tis true his father is a rich man, Rich both in
land and money; he his heir,
A young and handsome man, I must confess, too;
But of such qualities, and such wild flings,
Such admirable imperfections, sister,
(For all his travel and bought experience,)
I should be loth to own him for my brother:
Methinks, a rich mind in a state indifferent
Would prove the better fortune.
@3Ori@1. If he be wild,
The reclaiming him to good and honest, brother,
Will make much for my honour; which, if I prosper,
Shall be the study of my love, and life too.
@3De Gard@1. You say well; would he thought as well, and loved too!
He marry! he'll be hanged first; he knows no more
What the conditions and the ties of love are,
The honest purposes and grounds of marriage,
Nor will know, nor ever be brought to endeavour,
Than I do how to build a church: he was ever
A loose and strong defier of all order;
His loves are wanderers, they knock at each door,
And taste each dish, but are no residents.
Or say, he may be brought to think of marriage,
(As 'twill be no small labour), thy hopes are strangers:
I know there is a laboured match now followed,
Now at this time, for which he was sent for home too:
Be not abused; Nantelot has two fair daughters,
And he must take his choice.
@3Ori@1. Let him take freely:
For all this I despair not; my mind tells me
That I, and only I, must make him perfect;
And in that hope I rest.
@3De Gard@1. Since you're so confident,
Prosper your hope! I'll be no adversary;
Keep yourself fair and right, he shall not wrong you.
@3Ori@1. When I forget my virtue, no man know me!
[@3Exeunt severally@1.

SCENE II.— @3A Street, before, the same House@1.

@3Enter@1 MIRABEL, PINAC, BELLEUR, @3and@1 Servants.

@3Mir@1. Welcome to Paris, once more, gentlemen!
We have had a merry and a lusty ordinary,
And wine, and good meat, and a bouncing reckoning;
And let it go for once; 'tis a good physic:
Only the wenches are not for my diet;
They are too lean and thin, their embraces brawn-fallen.
Give me the plump Venetian, fat and lusty,
That meets me soft and supple; smiles upon me,
As if a cup of full wine leaped to kiss me:
These slight things I affect not.
@3Pin@1. They are ill-built;
Pin-buttocked, like your dainty Barbaries,
And weak i' the pasterns; they'll endure no hardness.
@3Mir@1. There's nothing good or handsome bred amongst us:
Till we are travelled, and live abroad, we are coxcombs.
You talk of France—a slight unseasoned country,
Abundance of gross food, which makes us blockheads;
We are fair set out indeed, and so are fore-horses:
Men say, we are great courtiers,—men abuse us;
We are wise, and valiant too,—@3non credo, signor;@1
Our women the best linguists,—they are parrots;
O' this side the Alps they are nothing but mere drolleries.
Ha! @3Roma la Santa@1, Italy for my money!
Their policies, their customs, their frugalities,
Their courtesies so open, yet so reserved too,
As, when you think you are known best, you're a stranger;
Their very pick-teeth speak more man than we do.
And season of more salt.
@3Pin@1. 'Tis a brave country;
Not pestered with your stubborn precise puppies,
That turn all useful and allowed contentments
To scabs and scruples—hang 'em, capon-worshippers.
@3Bel@1. I like that freedom well, and like their women too,
And would fain do as others do; but I am so bashful,
So naturally an ass! Look ye, I can look upon 'em,
And very willingly I go to see'em,
(There's no man willinger), and I can kiss 'em,
And make a shift_____
@3Mir@1. But, if they chance to flout you,
Or say, "You are too bold! fie, sir, remember!
I pray, sit farther off_____"
@3Bel@1. 'Tis true—I am humbled,
I am gone; I confess ingenuously, I am silenced;
The spirit of amber^1^ cannot force me answer.
@3Pin@1. Then would I sing and dance_____
@3Bel@1. You have wherewithal, sir.
@3Pin@1. And charge her up again.
@3Bel@1. I can be hanged first:
Yet, where I fasten well, I am a tyrant.
@3Mir@1. Why, thou dar'st fight?
@3Bel@1. Yes, certainly, I dare fight,
And fight with any man at any weapon:
Would the other were no more! but, a pox on't!
When I am sometimes in my height of hope,
And reasonable valiant that way, my heart hardened,
Some scornful jest or other chops between me
And my desire: what would you have me to do, then, gentlemen?
@3Mir@1. Belleur, you must be bolder: travel three years,
And bring home such a baby to betray you
As bashfulness! a great fellow, and a soldier!
@3Bel@1. You have the gift of impudence; be thankful;
Every man has not the like talent. I will study,
And, if it may be revealed to me_____
@3Mir@1. Learn of me,
And of Pinac: no doubt, you'll find employment;
Ladies will look for courtship.
@3Pin@1. 'Tis but fleshing,
But standing one good brunt or two. Hast thou any mind to marriage?
We'll provide thee some soft-natured wench, that's dumb too.
@3Mir@1. Or an old woman that cannot refuse thee in charity.
@3Bel@1. A dumb woman, or an old woman, that were eager,
And cared not for discourse, I were excellent at.
@3Mir@1. You must now put on boldness (there's no avoiding it),
And stand all hazards, fly at all games bravely;
They'll say, you went out like an ox, and returned like an ass, else.
@3Bel@1. I shall make danger, sure.
@3Mir@1. I am sent for home now;
I know it is to marry; but my father shall pardon me:
Although it be a weighty ceremony,
And may concern me hereafter in my gravity,
I will not lose the freedom of a traveller:
A new strong lusty bark cannot ride at one anchor.
Shall I make divers suits to show to the same eyes?
'Tis dull and homespun;—study several pleasures,
And want employments for 'em? I'll be hanged first
Tie me to one smock? make my travels fruitless?
I'll none of that; for every fresh behaviour,
By your leave, father, I must have a fresh mistress,
And a fresh favour^2^ too.
@3Bel@1. I like that passingly;
As many as you will, so they be willing,
Willing, and gentle, gentle.
@3Pin@1. There's no reason
A gentleman, and a traveller, should be clapt up,
(For 'tis a kind of bilboes to be married),
Before he manifest to the world his good parts:
Tug ever, like a rascal, at one oar?
Give me the Italian liberty!
@3Mir@1. That I study,
And that I will enjoy. Come, go in, gentlemen;
There mark how I behave myself, and follow. [@3Exeunt@1.

SCENE III.—@3A Room in the House of@1 LA CASTRE.

@3Enter@1 LA CASTRE, NANTOLET, LUGIER, ROSALURA, @3and@1 LILLIA BIANCA.

@3La Cast@1. You and your beauteous daughters are most welcome:
Beshrew my blood, they are fair ones!—Welcome beauties,
Welcome, sweet birds.
@3Nant@1. They are bound much to your courtesies.
@3La Cast@1. I hope we shall be nearer acquainted.
@3Nant@1. That's my hope too:
For, certain, sir, I much desire your alliance.
You see 'em; they are no gypsies: for their breeding,
It has not been so coarse but they are able
To rank themselves with women of fair fashion;
Indeed, they have been trained well.
@3Lug@1. Thank me.
@3Nant@1. Fit for the heirs of that state I shall leave 'em:
To say more, is to sell 'em. They say, your son,
Now he has travelled, must be wondrous curious
And choice in what he takes; these are no coarse ones.
Sir, here's a merry wench—let him look to himself—
All heart, i' faith—may chance to startle him;
For all his care, and travelled caution,
May creep into his eye: if he love gravity,
Affect a solemn face, there's one will fit him.
@3La Cast@1. So young and so demure?
@3Nant@1. She is my daughter,
Else I would tell you, sir, she is a mistress
Both of those manners, and that modesty,
You would wonder at: she is no often-speaker,
But, when she does, she speaks well; nor no reveller,
Yet she can dance, and has studied the court elements,
And sings, as some say, handsomely; if a woman,
With the decency of her sex, may be a scholar,
I can assure you, sir, she understands too.
@3La Cast@1. These are fit garments, sir.
@3Lug@1. Thank them that cut 'em:
Yes, they are handsome women; they have handsome parts too,
Pretty becoming parts.
@3La Cast@1. 'Tis like they have, sir.
@3Lug@1. Yes, yes, and handsome education they have had too,
Had it abundantly; they need not blush at it:
I taught it, I'll avouch it.
@3La Cast@1. You say well, sir.
@3Lug@1. I know what I say, sir, and I say but right, sir:
I am no trumpet of their commendations
Before their father; else I should say farther.
@3La Cast@1. Pray you, what's this gentleman?
@3Nant@1. One that lives with me, sir;
A man well bred and learned, but blunt and bitter;
Yet it offends no wise man; I take pleasure in't.
Many fair gifts he has, in some of which,
That lie most easy to their understandings
H'as handsomely bred up my girls, I thank him.
@3Lug@1. I have put it to 'em, that's my part, I have urged it;
It seems, they are of years now to take hold on't.
@3Nant@1. He's wond'rous blunt.
@3La Cast@1. By my faith, I was afraid of him:
Does he not fall out with the gentlewomen sometimes?
@3Nant@1. No, no; he's that way moderate and discreet, sir.
@3Ros@1. If he did, we should be too hard for him.
@3Lug@1. Well said, sulphur!
Too hard for thy husband's head, if he wear not armour.
@3Nant@1. Many of these bickerings, sir.
@3La Cast@1. I am glad, they are no oracles:
Sure as I live, he beats them, he's so puissant.

@3Enter@1 MIRABEL, PINAC, BELLEUR, DE GARD, @3and@1 ORIANA.

@3Ori@1. Well, if you do forget_____
@3Mir@1. Prithee, hold thy peace:
I know thou art a pretty wench; I know thou lov'st me;
Preserve it till we have a fit time to discourse on't,
And a fit place; I'll ease thy heart I warrant thee:
Thou seest I have much to do now
@3Ori@1. I am answered, sir:
With me you shall have nothing on these conditions.
@3De Gard@1. Your father and your friends.
@3La Cast@1. You are welcome home, sir;
Bless you, you are very welcome! Pray, know this gentleman,
And these fair ladies.
@3Nant@1. Monsieur Mirabel,
I am much affected with your fair return, sir;
You bring a general joy.
@3Mir@1. I bring you service,
And these bright beauties, sir.
@3Nant@1. Welcome home, gentlemen,
Welcome with all my heart!
@3Bel. & Pin@1. We thank you, sir.
@3La Cast@1. Your friends will have their share too.
@3Bel@1. Sir, we hope
They'll look upon us, though we show like strangers.
@3Nant@1. Monsieur De Gard; I must salute you also
And this fair gentlewoman: you are welcome from your travel too;—
All welcome, all.
@3De Gard@1. We render you our loves, sir,
The best wealth we bring home.—By your favours, beauties.—
One of these two: you know my meaning.
@3Ori@1. Well, sir;
They are fair and handsome, I must needs confess it,
And, let it prove the worst, I shall live after it:
Whilst I have meat and drink, love cannot starve me;
For, if I die o' the first fit, I am unhappy,
And worthy to be buried with my heels upward.
@3Mir@1. To marry, sir?
@3La Cast@1. You know I am an old man,
And every hour declining to my grave,
One foot already in; more sons I have not,
Nor more I dare not seek whilst you are worthy;
In you lies all my hope, and all my name,
The making good or wretched of my memory,
The safety of my state.
@3Mir@1. And you have provided,
Out of this tenderness, these handsome gentlewomen,
Daughters to this rich man, to take my choice of?
@3La Cast@1. I have, dear son.
@3Mir@1. 'Tis true, you are old and feebled;
Would you were young again, and in full vigour!
I love a bounteous father's life, a long one;
I am none of those that, when they shoot to ripeness,
Do what they can to break the boughs they grew on;
I wish you many years, and many riches,
And pleasures to enjoy 'em: but, for marriage,
I neither yet believe in't, nor affect it,
Nor think it fit.
@3La Cast@1. You will render me your reasons?
@3Mir@1. Yes, sir, both short and pithy, and these they are:—
You would have me marry a maid?
@3La Cast@1. A maid! what else?
@3Mir@1. Yes, there be things called widows, dead men's wills,
I never loved to prove those; nor never longed yet
To be buried alive in another man's cold monument.
And there be maids appearing, and maids being;
The appearing are fantastic things, mere shadows;
And, if you mark 'em well, they want their heads too;
Only the world, to cozen misty eyes,
Has clapt 'em on new faces: the maids being
A man may venture on, if he be so mad to marry,
If he have neither fear before his eyes, nor fortune;
And let him take heed how he gather these too;
For, look you, father, they are just like melons,
Musk-melons are the emblems of these maids;
Now they are ripe, now cut 'em, they taste pleasantly,
And are a dainty fruit, digested easily;
Neglect this present time, and come to-morrow,
They are so ripe they are rotten gone, their sweetness
Run into humour, and their taste to surfeit.
@3La Cast@1. Why, these are now ripe, son.
@3Mir@1. I'll try them presently,
And, if I like their taste_____
@3La Cast@1. 'Pray you, please yourself, sir.
@3Mir@1. That liberty is my due, and I'll maintain it.—
Lady, what think you of a handsome man now?
@3Ros@1. A wholesome too, sir?
@3Mir@1. That's as you make your bargain.
A handsome, wholesome man, then, and a kind man,
To cheer your heart up, to rejoice you, lady?
@3Ros@1. Yes, sir, I love rejoicing.
@3Mir@1. To lie close to you?
Close as a cockle? keep the cold nights from you?
@3Ros@1. That will be looked for too; our bodies ask it.
@3Mir@1. And get two boys at every birth?
@3Ros@1. That's nothing;
I have known a cobbler do it, a poor thin cobbler,
A cobbler out of mouldy cheese perform it,
Cabbage, and coarse black bread: methinks, a gentleman
Should take foul scorn to have a nawl out-name him.
Two at a birth! why, every house-dove has it:
That man that feeds well, promises as well too,
I should expect indeed something of worth from:
You talk of two!
@3Mir@1. She would have me get two dozen,
Like buttons, at a birth. [@3Aside.
Ros@1. You love to brag, sir:
If you proclaim these offers at your marriage,
(You are a pretty-timbered man, take heed,)
They may be taken hold of, and expected,
Yes, if not hoped for at a higher-rate too.
@3Mir@1. I will take heed, and thank you for your counsel.
Father, what think you?
@3La Cast@1. 'Tis a merry gentlewoman:
Will make, no doubt, a good wife.
@3Mir@1. Not for me:
I marry her, and, happily, get nothing;
In what a state am I then, father? I shall suffer,
For any thing I hear to the contrary, @3more majorum;@1
I were as sure to be a cuckold, father,
A gentleman of antler_____
@3La Cast@1. Away, away, fool!
@3Mir@1. As I am sure to fail her expectation.
I had rather get the pox than get her babies.
@3La Cast@1. You are much to blame: if this do not affect you,
Pray, try the other; she's of a more demure way.
@3Bel@1. That I had but the audacity to talk thus!
I love that plain-spoken gentlewoman admirably;
And, certain, I could go as near to please her,
If down-right doing—she has a per'lous countenance—
If I could meet one that would believe me,
And take my honest meaning without circumstance_____
[@3Aside.
Mir@1. You shall have your will, sir; I will try the other;
But 'twill be to small use.—I hope, fair lady,
(For, methinks, in your eyes I see more mercy,)
You will enjoin your lover a less penance;
And though I'll promise much, as men are liberal,
And vow an ample sacrifice of service,
Yet your discretion, and your tenderness,
And thriftiness in love, good huswife's carefulness
To keep the stock entire_____
@3Lil@1. Good sir, speak louder,
That these may witness, too, you talk of nothing:
I should be loth alone to bear the burthen
Of so much indiscretion.
@3Mir@1. Hark you, hark you;
'Ods-bobs, you are angry, lady.
@3Lil@1. Angry! no, sir;
I never owned an anger to lose poorly.
@3Mir@1. But you can love, for all this; and delight too,
For all your set austerity, to hear
Of a good husband, lady?
@3Lil@1. You say true, sir;
For, by my troth, I have heard of none these ten years,
They are so rare; and there are so many, sir,
So many longing women on their knees too,
That pray the dropping-down of these good husbands—
The dropping-down from Heaven; for they are not bred here_____
That you may guess at all my hope, but hearing_____
@3Mir@1. Why may not I be one?
@3Lil@1. You were near 'em once, sir,
When you came o'er the Alps; those are near Heaven:
But since you missed that happiness, there's no hope of you,
@3Mir@1. Can you love a man?
@3Lil@1. Yes, if the man be lovely,
That is, be honest, modest: I would have him valiant,
His anger slow, but certain for his honour;
Travelled he should be, but through himself exactly,
For 'tis fairer to know manners well than countries;
He must be no vain talker, nor no lover
To hear himself talk; they are brags of a wanderer,
Of one finds no retreat for fair behaviour.
Would you learn more?
@3Mir@1. Yes.
@3Lil@1. Learn to hold your peace, then:
Fond girls are got with tongues, women with tempers.
@3Mir@1. Women, with I know what; but let that vanish:
Go thy way, good-wife Bias! sure, thy husband
Must have a strong philosopher's stone, he will ne'er please thee else.—
Here's a starched piece of austerity!—Do you hear, father?
Do you hear this moral lecture?
@3La Cast@1. Yes, and like it.
@3Mir@1. Why, there's your judgment now; there's an old bolt shot!
This thing must have the strangest observation,
(Do you mark me, father?) when she is married once,
The strangest custom too of admiration
On all she does and speaks, 'twill be past sufferance;
I must not lie with her in common language,
Nor cry, "Have at thee, Kate!" I shall be hissed then;
Nor eat my meat without the sauce of sentences,
Your powdered beef and problems, a rare diet!
My first son, Monsieur Aristotle, I know it,
Great master of the metaphysics, or so;
The second, Solon, and the best law-setter;
And I must look Egyptian god-fathers,
Which will be no small trouble: my eldest daughter,
Sappho, or such a fiddling kind of poetess,
And brought up, @3invitâ Minervâ@1, at her needle!
My dogs must look their names too, and all Spartan,
Lelaps, Melampus; no more Fox and Bawdy-face.
I married to a sullen set of sentences!
To one that weighs her words and her behaviours
In the gold-weights of discretion! I'll be hanged first.
@3La Cast@1. Prithee, reclaim thyself.
@3Mir@1. Pray you, give me time, then:
If they can set me any thing to play at,
That seems fit for a gamester, have at the fairest,
Till I see more, and try more!
@3La Cast@1. Take your time, then;
I'll bar you no fair liberty.—Come, gentlemen;
And, ladies, come; to all, once more, a welcome!
And now let's in to supper.
[@3Exeunt@1 LA CASTRE, NANTOLET, LUGIER, ROSA-LURA, @3and@1 LILLIA
BIANCA.
@3Mir@1. How dost like 'em?
@3Pin@1. They are fair enough, but of so strange behaviours_____
@3Mir@1. Too strange for me: I must have those have mettle,
And mettle to my mind. Come, let's be merry.
@3Bel@1. Bless me from this woman! I would stand the cannon,
Before ten words of hers.
[@3Exeunt@1 MIRABEL, PINAC, @3and@1 BELLEUR.
@3De Gard@1. Do you find him now?
Do you think he will be ever firm?
@3Ori@1. I fear not. [@3Exeunt@1.

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE 1.—@3A Garden belonging to the House of@1 LA CASTRE.

@3Enter@1 MIRABEL, PINAC, @3and@1 BELLEUR.

MIR. Ne'er tell me of this happiness; 'tis nothing;
The state they bring with being sought-to, scurvy:
I had rather make mine own play, and I will do.
My happiness is in mine own content,
And the despising of such glorious trifles,
As I have done a thousand more. For my humour,
Give me a good free fellow, that sticks to me,
A jovial fair companion; there's a beauty!
For women, I can have too many of them;
Good women too, as the age reckons 'em,
More than I have employment for.
@3Pin@1. You are happy.
@3Mir@1. My only fear is, that I must be forced,
Against my nature, to conceal myself:
Health and an able body are two jewels.
@3Pin@1. If either of these two women were offered to me now,
I would think otherwise, and do accordingly;
Yes, and recant my heresies; I would, sir;
And be more tender of opinion,
And put a little of my travelled liberty
Out of the way, and look upon 'em seriously.
Methinks, this grave-carried wench_____
@3Bel@1. Methinks, the other,
The home-spoken gentlewoman, that desires to be fruitful,
That treats of the full manage of the matter,
(For there lies all my aim,) that wench, methinks,
If I were but well set on, for she is affable,
If I were but hounded right, and one to teach me—
She speaks to the matter, and comes home to the point—
Now do I know I have such a body to please her
As all the kingdom cannot fit her with, I am sure on't,
If I could but talk myself into her favour.
@3Mir@1. That's easily done.
@3Bel@1. That's easily said; would 'twere done!
You should see then how I would lay about me.
If I were virtuous, it would never grieve me,
Or any thing that might justify my modesty;
But when my nature is prone to do a charity,
And my calf's tongue will not help me_____
@3Mir@1. Will ye go to 'em?
They cannot but take it courteously.
@3Pin@1. I'll do my part,
Though I am sure 'twill be the hardest I e'er played yet
A way I never tried too, which will stagger me;
And, if it do not shame me, I am happy.
@3Mir@1. Win 'em, and wear 'em; I give up my interest.
@3Pin@1. What say you, Monsieur Belleur?
@3Bel@1. Would I could say,
Or sing, or any thing that were but handsome!
I would be with her presently!
@3Pin@1. Yours is no venture;
A merry ready wench.
@3Bel@1. A vengeance squibber;
She'll fleer me out of faith too.
@3Mir@1. I'll be near thee;
Pluck up thy heart; I'll second thee at all brunts.
Be angry, if she abuse thee, and beat her a little:
Some women are won that way.
@3Bel@1. Pray, be quiet,
And let me think: I am resolved to go on;
But how I shall get off again_____
@3Mir@1. I am persuaded
Thou wilt so please her, she will go near to ravish thee.
@3Bel@1. I would 'twere come to that once! Let me pray a little.
@3Mir@1. Now, for thine honour, Pinac, board me this modesty;
Warm but this frozen snow-ball, 'twill be a conquest
(Although I know thou art a fortunate wencher,
And hast done rarely in thy days) above all thy ventures.
@3Bel@1. You will be ever near?
@3Mir@1. At all necessities;
And take thee off, and set thee on again, boy,
And cherish thee, and stroke thee.
@3Bel@1. Help me out too;
For I know I shall stick i' the mire. If you see us close once,
Be gone, and leave me to my fortune, suddenly,
For I am then determined to do wonders.
Farewell, and fling an old shoe. How my heart throbs!
Would I were drunk! Farewell, Pinac: Heaven send us
A joyful and a merry meeting, man!
@3Pin@1. Farewell,
And cheer thy heart up; and remember, Belleur,
They are but women.
@3Bel@1. I had rather they were lions.
@3Mir@1. About it; I'll be with you instantly.—
[@3Exeunt@1 BELLEUR @3and@1 PINAC.

@3Enter@1 ORIANA.

Shall I ne'er be at rest? no peace of conscience?
No quiet for these creatures? am I ordained
To be devoured quick by these she-cannibals?
Here's another they call handsome; I care not for her,
I ne'er look after her: when I am half-tippled,
It may be I should turn her, and peruse her;
Or, in my want of women, I might call for her;
But to be haunted when I have no fancy,
No maw to the matter—[@3Aside@1.] Now, why do you follow me?
@3Ori@1. I hope, sir, 'tis no blemish to my virtue;
Nor need you, out of scruple, ask that question,
If you remember you, before your travel,
The contract you tied to me: 'tis my love, sir,
That makes me seek you, to confirm your memory;
And, that being fair and good, I cannot suffer.
I come to give you thanks too.
@3Mir@1. For what, prithee?
@3Ori@1. For that fair piece of honesty you showed, sir,
That constant nobleness.
@3Mir@1. How? for I am short-headed.
@3Ori@1. I'll tell you then; for refusing that free offer
Of Monsieur Nantolet's, those handsome beauties,
Those two prime ladies, that might well have pressed you
If not to have broken, yet to have bowed your promise.
I know it was for my sake, for your faith-sake,
You slipt 'em off; your honesty compelled you;
And let me tell ye, sir, it showed most handsomely.
@3Mir@1. And let me tell thee, there was no such matter;
Nothing intended that way, of that nature:
I have more to do with my honesty than to fool it,
Or venture it in such leak barks as women.
I put 'em off because I loved 'em not,
Because they are too queasy for my temper,
And not for thy sake, nor the contract-sake,
Nor vows, nor oaths; I have made a thousand of 'em;
They are things indifferent, whether kept or broken;
Mere venial slips, that grow not near the conscience;
Nothing concerns those tender parts; they are trifles;
For, as I think, there was never man yet hoped for
Either constancy or secrecy from a woman,
Unless it were an ass ordained for sufferance;
Nor to contract with such can be a tie-all;
So let them know again; for 'tis a justice,
And a main point of civil policy,
Whate'er we say or swear, they being reprobates,
Out of the state of faith, we are clear of all sides,
And 'tis a curious blindness to believe us.
@3Ori@1. You do not mean this, sure?
@3Mir@1. Yes, sure, and certain;
And hold it positively, as a principle,
As ye are strange things, and made of strange fires and fluxes,
So we are allowed as strange ways to obtain ye,
But not to hold; we are all created errant.
@3Ori@1. You told me other tales.
@3Mir@1. I not deny it;
I have tales of all sorts for all sorts of women,
And protestations likewise of all sizes,
As they have vanities to make us coxcombs:
If I obtain a good turn, so it is,
I am thankful for it; if I be made an ass,
The 'mends are in mine own hands, or the surgeon's,
And there's an end on 't.
@3Ori@1. Do not you love me, then?
@3Mir@1. As I love others; heartily I love thee;
When I am high and lusty, I love thee cruelly:
After I have made a plenteous meal, and satisfied
My senses with all delicates, come to me,
And thou shalt see how I love thee.
@3Ori@1. Will not you marry me?
@3Mir@1. No, certain, no, for any thing I know yet:
I must not lose my liberty, dear lady,
And, like a wanton slave, cry for more shackles.
What should I marry for? do I want any thing?
Am I an inch the farther from my pleasure?
Why should I be at charge to keep a wife of mine own,
When other honest married men will ease me,
And thank me too, and be beholding to me?
Thou think'st I am mad for a maidenhead; thou art cozened:
Or, if I were addicted to that diet,
Can you tell me where I should have one? thou art eighteen now,
And, if thou hast thy maidenhead yet extant,
Sure, 'tis as big as cods-head; and those grave dishes
I never love to deal withal. Dost thou see this book here? [@3Shows a book@1.
Look over all these ranks; all these are women,
Maids, and pretenders to maidenheads; these are my conquests;
All these I swore to marry, as I swore to thee,
With the same reservation, and most righteously:
Which I need not have done neither; for, alas, they made no scruple,
And I enjoyed 'em at my will, and left 'em:
Some of 'em are married since, and were as pure maids again,
Nay, o' my conscience, better than they were bred for;
The rest, fine sober women.
@3Ori@1. Are you not ashamed, sir?
@3Mir@1. No, by my troth, sir; there's no shame belongs to it;
I hold it as commendable to be wealthy in pleasure,
As others do in rotten sheep and pasture.

@3Enter@1 DE GARD.

@3Ori@1. Are all my hopes come to this? is there no faith,
No truth, nor modesty, in men? [@3Weeps.
De Gard@1. How now, sister?
Why weeping thus? did I not prophesy?
Come, tell me why_____
@3Ori@1. I am not well; pray you pardon me. [@3Exit.
De Gard@1. Now, Monsieur Mirabel, what ails my sister?
You have been playing the wag with her.
@3Mir@1. As I take it,
She is crying for a cod-piece. Is she gone?
Lord, what an age is this! I was calling for you;
For, as I live, I thought she would have ravished me.
@3De Gard@1. You are merry, sir.
@3Mir@1. Thou know'st this book, De Gard, this inventory?
@3De Gard@1. The debt-book of your mistresses; I remember it.
@3Mir@1. Why, this was it that angered her; she was stark mad
She found not her name here; and cried downright
Because I would not pity her immediately,
And put her in my list.
@3De Gard@1. Sure, she had more modesty.
@3Mir@1. Their modesty is anger to be overdone;
They'll quarrel sooner for precedence here,
And take it in more dudgeon to be slighted,
Than they will in public meetings; 'tis their natures:
And, alas, I have so many to despatch yet,
And to provide myself for my affairs too,
That, in good faith_____
@3De Gard@1. Be not too glorious foolish;
Sum not your travels up with vanities;
It ill becomes your expectation:
Temper your speech, sir: whether your loose story
Be true or false, (for you are so free, I fear it,)
Name not my sister in't, I must not hear it;
Upon your danger, name her not! I hold her
A gentlewoman of those happy parts and carriage,
A good man's tongue may be right proud to speak her.
@3Mir@1. Your sister, sir! do you blench at that? do you cavil?
Do you hold her such a piece she may not be played withal?
I have had an hundred handsomer and nobler
Have sued to me, too, for such a courtesy;
Your sister comes i' the rear. Since you are so angry,
And hold your sister such a strong recusant,
I tell you, I may do it; and, it may be, will too;
It may be, have too; there's my free confession;
Work upon that now!
@3De Gard@1. If I thought you had, I would work,
And work such stubborn work should make your heart ache:
But I believe you, as I ever knew you,
A glorious talker, and a legend-maker
Of idle tales and trifles; a depraver
Of your own truth: their honours fly about you!
And so, I take my leave; but with this caution,
Your sword be surer than your tongue; you'll smart else.
@3Mir@1. I laugh at thee, so little I respect thee;
And I'll talk louder, and despise thy sister;
Set up a chamber-maid that shall outshine her,
And carry her in my coach too, and that will kill her.
Go, get thy rents up, go!
@3De Gard@1. You are a fine gentleman! [@3Exit.
Mir@1. Now, have at my two youths! I'll see how they do;
How they behave themselves; and then I'll study
What wench shall love me next, and when I'll lose her.
[@3Exit@1.

SCENE II.—@3A Hall in the House of@1 NANTOLET.

@3Enter@1 PINAC @3and@1 Servant.

@3Pin@1. Art thou her servant, sayest thou?
@3Serv@1. Her poor creature;
But servant to her horse, sir.
@3Pin@1. Canst thou show me
The way to her chamber, or where I may conveniently
See her, or come to talk to her?
@3Serv@1. That I can, sir;
But the question is, whether I will or no.
@3Pin@1. Why, I'll content thee.
@3Serv@1. Why, I'll content thee, then; now you come to me.
@3Pin@1. There's for your diligence. [@3Gives money.
Serv@1. There's her chamber, sir,
And this way she comes out; stand you but here, sir,
You have her at your prospect or your pleasure.
@3Pin@1. Is she not very angry?
@3Serv@1. You'll find that quickly:
May be, she'll call you saucy, scurvy fellow,
Or some such familiar name; may be, she knows you,
And will fling a piss-pot at you, or a pantofle,
According as you are in acquaintance: if she like you,
May be she'll look upon you; may be no;
And two months hence call for you.
@3Pin@1. This is fine.
She is monstrous proud, then?
@3Serv@1. She is a little haughty;
Of a small body, she has a mind well mounted.
Can you speak Greek?
@3Pin@1. No, certain.
@3Serv@1. Get you gone, then!—
And talk of stars, and firmaments, and fire-drakes?
Do you remember who was Adam's schoolmaster,
And who taught Eve to spin? she knows all these,
And will run you over the beginning o' the world
As familiar as a fiddler.
Can you sit seven hours together, and say nothing?
Which she will do, and, when she speaks, speak oracles,
Speak things that no man understands, nor herself neither.
@3Pin@1. Thou mak'st me wonder.
@3Serv@1. Can you smile?
@3Pin@1. Yes, willingly;
For naturally I bear a mirth about me.
@3Serv@1. She'll ne'er endure you, then; she is never merry;
If she see one laugh, she'll swoon past @3aqua vitæ@1.
Never come near her, sir; if you chance to venture,
And talk not like a doctor, you are damned too.
I have told you enough for your crown, and so, good speed you! [@3Exit.
Pin@1. I have a pretty task, if she be thus curious,
As, sure, it seems she is! If I fall off now,
I shall be laughed at fearfully; if I go forward,
I can but be abused, and that I look for;
And yet I may hit right, but 'tis unlikely.
Stay: in what mood and figure shall I attempt her?
A careless way? no, no, that will not waken her
Besides, her gravity will give me line still,
And let me lose myself; yet this way often
Has hit, and handsomely. A wanton method?
Ay, if she give it leave to sink into her consideration:
But there's the doubt: if it but stir her blood once,
And creep into the crannies of her fancy,
Set her a-gog—but, if she chance to slight it,
And by the power of her modesty fling it back,
I shall appear the arrant'st rascal to her.
The most licentious knave! for I shall talk lewdly.
To bear myself austerely? rate my words?
And fling a general gravity about me,
As if I meant to give laws? but this I cannot do,
This is a way above my understanding;
Or, if I could, 'tis odds she'll think I mock her;
For serious and sad things are ever still suspicious.
Well, I'll say something:
But learning I have none, and less good manners,
Especially for ladies. Well, I'll set my best face.
I hear some coming. This is the first woman
I ever feared yet, the first face that shakes me. [@3Retires@1.

@3Enter@1 LILLIA BIANCA @3and@1 PETELLA.

@3Lil@1. Give me my hat, Petella; take this veil off,
This sullen cloud; it darkens my delights.
Come, wench, be free, and let the music warble:—
Play me some lusty measure.
[@3Music within, to which presently@1 LILLIA @3dances.
Pin@1. This is she, sure,
The very same I saw, the very woman,
The gravity I wondered at. Stay, stay;
Let me be sure. Ne'er trust me, but she danceth!
Summer is in her face now, and she skippeth!
I'll go a little nearer.
[@3Aside, and then advances a little.
Lil@1. Quicker time, fellows!
I cannot find my legs yet.—Now, Petella!

@3Enter@1 MIRABEL, @3and remains at the side of the stage@1.

@3Pin@1. I am amazed; I am foundered in my fancy!
[@3Aside.
Mir@1. Ha! say you so? is this your gravity?
This the austerity you put upon you?
I'll see more o' this sport. [@3Aside.
Lil@1. A song now!

@3Enter a@1 Singing-Boy.

Call in for a merry and a light song;
And sing it with a liberal spirit.
@3S. Boy@1. Yes, madam.
@3Lil@1. And be not amazed, sirrah, but take us for your own
company.—[@3A song by the Boy, who then exit@1.
Let's walk ourselves: come, wench: would we had a man or two!
@3Pin@1. Sure, she has spied me, and will abuse me dreadfully:
She has put on this for the purpose: yet I will try her.— [@3Aside, and
then advances@1.
Madam, I would be loth my rude intrusion,
Which I must crave a pardon for—
@3Lil@1. Oh, you are welcome,
You are very welcome, sir! we want such a one.
Strike up again!—I dare presume you dance well:
Quick, quick, sir, quick! the time steals on.
@3Pin@1. I would talk with you.
@3Lil@1. Talk as you dance. [@3They dance.
Mir@1. She'll beat him off his legs first.
This is the finest masque! [@3Aside.
Lil@1. Now, how do you, sir?
@3Pin@1. You have given me a shrewd heat.
@3Lil@1. I'll give you a hundred.
Come, sing now, sing: for I know you sing well;
I see you have a singing face.
@3Pin@1. A fine modesty!
If I could, she'd never give me breath—[@3Aside@1.]—Madam, would
I might sit and recover!
@3Lil@1. Sit here, and sing now;
Let's do things quickly, sir, and handsomely.—
Sit close, wench, close.—Begin, begin.
@3Pin@1. I am lessoned. [@3A song by@1 PINAC.
@3Lil@1. 'Tis very pretty, i' faith. Give me some wine now.
@3Pin@1. I would fain speak to you.
@3Lil@1. You shall drink first, believe me.
Here's to you a lusty health. [@3They drink.
Pin@1. I thank you, lady.—
Would I were off again! I smell my misery;
I was never put to this rack: I shall be drunk too. [@3Aside.
Mir@1. If thou be'st not a right one, I have lost mine aim much:
I thank Heaven that I have 'scaped thee. To her, Pinac!
For thou art as sure to have her, and to groan for her—
I'll see how my other youth does. This speeds trimly:
A fine grave gentlewoman, and worth much honour!
[@3Aside, and then exit.
Lil@1. Now, how do you like me, sir?
@3Pin@1. I like you rarely.
@3Lil@1. You see, sir, though sometimes we are grave and silent,
And put on sadder dispositions,
Yet we are compounded of free parts, and sometimes too
Our lighter, airy, and our fiery mettles
Break out, and show themselves: and what think you of that, sir?
@3Pin@1. Good lady, sit (for I am very weary),
And then I'll tell you.
@3Lil@1. Fie! a young man idle!
Up, and walk; be still in action;
The motions of the body are fair beauties;
Besides, 'tis cold. 'Ods me, sir, let's walk faster!
What think you now of the Lady Felicia?
And Bellafronte, the duke's fair daughter? ha!
Are they not handsome things? There is Duarta,
And brown Olivia_____
@3Pin@1. I know none of 'em.
@3Lil@1. But brown must not be cast away, sir. If young Lelia
Had kept herself till this day from a husband,
Why, what a beauty, sir! You know Ismena,
The fair gem of Saint-Germains?
@3Pin@1. By my troth, I do not.
@3Lil@1. And, then, I know, you must hear of Brisac,
How unlike a gentleman—
@3Pin@1. As I live, I have heard nothing.
@3Lil@1. Strike me another galliard!
@3Pin@1. By this light, I cannot!
In troth, I have sprained my leg, madam.
@3Lil@1. Now sit you down, sir,
And tell me why you came hither? why you chose me out? What is your business?
your errand? despatch, despatch.
May be, you are some gentleman's man, (and I mistook you,)
That have brought me a letter, or a haunch of venison,
Sent me from some friend of mine.
@3Pin@1. Do I look like a carrier?
You might allow me, what I am, a gentleman.
@3Lil@1. Cry you mercy, sir! I saw you yesterday;
You are new-come out of travel; I mistook you:
And how do all our impudent friends in Italy?
@3Pin@1. Madam, I came with duty, and fair courtesy,
Service, and honour to you.
@3Lil@1. You came to jeer me.
You see I am merry, sir; I have changed my copy;
None of the sages now: and, pray you, proclaim it;
Fling on me what aspersion you shall please, sir,
Of wantonness or wildness; I look for it;
And tell the world I am an hypocrite,
Mask in a forced and borrowed shape; I expect it;
But not to have you believed: for, mark you, sir,
I have won a nobler estimation,
A stronger tie, by my discretion,
Upon opinion (howe'er you think I forced it)
Than either tongue or act of yours can slubber,
And, when I please, I will be what I please, sir,
So I exceed not mean; and none shall brand it,
Either with scorn or shame, but shall be slighted.
@3Pin@1. Lady, I come to love you.
@3Lil@1. Love yourself, sir;
And, when I want observers, I'll send for you.
Heigh-ho! my fit's almost off; for we do all by fits, sir:
If you be weary, sit till I come again to you.
[@3Exit with@1 PETELLA.
@3Pin@1. This is a wench of a dainty spirit; but
Hang me, if I know yet either what to think
Or make of her: she had her will of me,
And baited me abundantly, I thank her;
And, I confess, I never was so blurted,
Nor never so abused: I must bear mine own sins.
You talk of travels; here's a curious country!
Yet I will find her out, or forswear my faculty. [@3Exit@1.

SCENE III.—@3A Garden belonging to the House of@1 NANTOLET, @3with a
Summer-house in the back-ground@1.

@3Enter@1 ROSALURA @3and@1 ORIANA.

@3Ros@1. Ne'er vex yourself, nor grieve; you are a fool, then.
@3Ori@1. I am sure I am made so: yet, before I suffer
Thus like a girl, and give him leave to triumph_____
@3Ros@1. You say right; for, as long as he perceives you
Sink under his proud scornings, he'll laugh at you.
For me, secure yourself; and, for my sister,
I partly know her mind too: howsoever,
To obey my father, we have made a tender
Of our poor beauties to the travelled monsieur;
Yet two words to a bargain. He slights us
As skittish things, and we shun him as curious.
May be, my free behaviour turns his stomach,
And makes him seem to doubt a loose opinion:
I must be so sometimes, though all the world saw it.
@3Ori@1. Why should not you? are our minds only measured?
As long as here you stand secure_____
@3Ros@1. You say true;
As long as mine own conscience makes no question,
What care I for report? that woman's miserable,
That's good or bad for their tongues' sake. Come, let's retire,
And get my veil, wench. By my troth, your sorrow,
And the consideration of men's humorous maddings,
Have put me into a serious contemplation.
@3Ori@1. Come, faith, let's sit and think.
@3Ros@1. That's all my business.
[@3They go into the summer-house, and sit down,@1 ROSALURA @3having
taken her veil from a table, and put it on@1.

@3Enter@1 MIRABEL @3and@1 BELLEUR.

@3Mir@1. Why stand'st thou peeping here? thou great slug, forward!
@3Bel@1. She is there; peace!
@3Mir@1. Why stand'st thou here, then,
Sneaking and peaking as thou wouldst steal linen?
Hast thou not place and time?
@3Bel@1. I had a rare speech
Studied, and almost ready; and your violence
Has beat it out of my brains.
@3Mir@1. Hang your rare speeches!
Go me on like a man.
@3Bel@1. Let me set my beard up
How has Pinac performed?
@3Mir@1. He has won already;
He stands not thrumming of caps thus.
@3Bel@1. Lord, what should I ail!
What a cold I have over my stomach! would I had some hum!
Certain I have a great mind to be at her,
A mighty mind.
@3Mir@1. On, fool!
@3Bel@1. Good words, I beseech you;
For I will not be abused by both.
@3Mir@1. Adieu, then
(I will not trouble you; I see you are valiant);
And work your own way.
@3Bel@1. Hist, hist! I will be ruled;
I will, i' faith; I will go presently:
Will you forsake me now, and leave me i' the suds?
You know I am false-hearted this way: I beseech you,
Good sweet Mirabel—I'll cut your throat, if you leave me,
Indeed I will—sweet-heart—
@3Mir@1. I will be ready,
Still at thine elbow. Take a man's heart to thee,
And speak thy mind; the plainer still the better:
She is a woman of that free behaviour,
Indeed, that common courtesy, she cannot deny thee;
Go bravely on.
@3Bel@1. Madam—keep close about me,
Still at my back—Madam, sweet madam—
@3Ros@1. Ha!
What noise is that? what saucy sound to trouble me?
@3Mir@1. What said she?
@3Bel@1. I am saucy.
[ROSALURA @3and@1 ORIANA @3rise and come forward.
Mir@1. 'Tis the better.
@3Bel@1. She comes; must I be saucy still?
@3Mir@1. More saucy.
@3Ros@1. Still troubled with these vanities? Heaven bless us!
What are we born to?—Would you speak with any of my people?
Go in, sir; I am busy.
@3Bel@1. This is not she, sure:
Is this two children at a birth? I'll be hanged, then:
Mine was a merry gentlewoman, talked daintily
Talked of those matters that befitted women;
This is a parcel prayer-book. I'm served sweetly!
And now I am to look to; I was prepared for th' other way.
@3Ros@1. Do you know that man?
@3Ori@1. Sure, I have seen him, lady.
@3Ros@1. Methinks 'tis pity such a lusty fellow
Should wander up and down, and want employment.
@3Bel@1. She takes me for a rogue!—You may do well, madam,
To stay this wanderer, and set him a-work, forsooth;
He can do something that may please your ladyship:
I have heard of women that desire good breedings,
Two at a birth, or so.
@3Ros@1. The fellow's impudent.
@3Ori@1. Sure, he is crazed.
@3Ros@1. I have heard of men too that have had good manners;
Sure, this is want of grace: indeed, 'tis great pity
The young man has been bred so I'll; but this lewd age
Is full of such examples.
@3Bel@1. I am foundered,
And some shall rue the setting of me on.
@3Mir@1. Ha! so bookish, lady? is it possible?
Turned holy at the heart too? I'll be hanged then:
Why, this is such a feat, such an activity,
Such fast and loose! a veil too for your knavery?
@3O Dio, Dio@1!
@3Ros@1. What do you take me for, sir?@3Mir@1. An hypocrite, a wanton, a
dissembler,
Howe'er you seem; and thus you are to be handled!—
Mark me, Belleur;—and this you love, I know it.
[@3Attempts to remove the veil.
Ros@1. Stand off, bold sir!
@3Mir@1. You wear good clothes to this end,
Jewels; love feasts and masques.
@3Ros@1. You are monstrous saucy.
@3Mir@1. All this to draw on fools: and thus, thus, lady,
[@3Attempts to remove the veil@1.
You are to be lulled.
@3Bel@1. Let her alone, I'll swinge you else,
I will, i' faith! for, though I cannot skill o' this matter
Myself, I will not see another do it before me,
And do it worse.
@3Ros@1. Away! you are a vain thing:
You have travelled far, sir, to return again
A windy and poor bladder. You talk of women,
That are not worth the favour of a common one,
The grace of her grew in an hospital!
Against a thousand such blown fooleries
I am able to maintain good women's honours,
Their freedoms, and their fames, and I will do it—
@3Mir@1. She has almost struck me dumb too.
@3Ros@1. And declaim
Against your base malicious tongues, your noises,
For they are nothing else. You teach behaviours!
Or touch us for our freedoms! Teach yourselves manners
Truth and sobriety, and live so clearly
That our lives may shine in ye; and then task us.
It seems ye are hot; the suburbs will supply ye:
Good women scorn such gamesters. So, I'll leave ye.
I am sorry to see this: faith, sir, live fairly.
[@3Exit with@1 ORIANA.
@3Mir@1. This woman, if she hold on, may be virtuous;
'Tis almost possible: we'll have a new day.
@3Bel@1. You brought me on, you forced me to this foolery:
I am shamed, I am scorned, I am flurted; yes, I am so:
Though I cannot talk to a woman like your worship,
And use my phrases and my learnèd figures,
Yet I can fight with any man.
@3Mir@1. Fie!
@3Bel@1. I can, sir;
And I will fight.
@3Mir@1. With whom?
@3Bel@1. With you; with any man;
For all men now will laugh at me.
@3Mir@1. Prithee, be moderate.
@3Bel@1. And I'll beat all men. Come.
@3Mir@1. I love thee dearly.
@3Bel@1. I will beat all that love; love has undone me:
Never tell me; I will not be a history.
@3Mir@1. Thou art not.
@3Bel@1. 'Sfoot, I will not! Give me room,
And let me see the proudest of ye jeer me;
And I'll begin with you first.
@3Mir@1. Prithee, Belleur—
If I do not satisfy thee_____
@3Bel@1. Well, look you do.
But, now I think on't better, 'tis impossible:
I must beat somebody; I am mauled myself,
And I ought in justice_____
@3Mir@1. No, no, no; you are cozened:
But walk, and let me talk to thee.
@3Bel@1. Talk wisely,
And see that no man laugh, upon no occasion;
For I shall think then 'tis at me.
@3Mir@1. I warrant thee.
@3Bel@1. Nor no more talk of this.
@3Mir@1. Dost think I am maddish?
@3Bel@1. I must needs fight yet; for I find it concerns me:
A pox on't: I must fight.
@3Mir@1. I' faith, thou shalt not. [@3Exeunt@1.

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I.—@3A public Walk@1.

@3Enter@1 DE GARD @3and@1 LUGIER.

DE GARD. I know you are a scholar, and can do wonders.
@3Lug@1. There's no great scholarship belongs to this, sir;
What I am, I am. I pity your poor sister,
And heartily I hate these travellers,
These gim-cracks, made of mops and motions:
There's nothing in their houses here but hummings;
A bee has more brains. I grieve and vex too
The insolent licentious carriage
Of this out facing fellow Mirabel;
And I am mad to see him prick his plumes up.
@3De Gard@1. His wrongs you partly know.
@3Lug@1. Do not you stir, sir;
Since he has begun with wit, let wit revenge it:
Keep your sword close; we'll cut his throat a new way.
I am ashamed the gentlewoman should suffer
Such base lewd wrongs.
@3De Gard@1. I will be ruled; he shall live
And left to your revenge.
@3Lug@1. Ay, ay, I'll fit him:
He makes a common scorn of handsome women
Modesty and good manners are his May-games;
He takes up maidenheads with a new commission,—
The church-warrant's out of date. Follow my counsel,
For I am zealous in the cause.
@3De Gard@1. I will, sir,
And will be still directed; for the truth is,
My sword will make my sister seem more monstrous:
Besides, there is no honour won on reprobates.
@3Lug@1. You are i' the right. The slight he has showed my pupils
Sets me a-fire too. Go; I'll prepare your sister,
And as I told you_____
@3De Gard@1. Yes; all shall be fit, sir.
@3Lug@1. And seriously, and handsomely.
@3De Gard@1. I warrant you.
@3Lug@1. A little counsel more. [@3Whispers.
De Gard@1. 'Tis well.
@3Lug@1. Most stately:
See that observed; and then_____
@3De Gard@1. I have you every way.
@3Lug@1. Away, then, and be ready.
@3De Gard@1. With all speed, sir.
@3Lug@1. We'll learn to travel too, may be, beyond him.
[@3Exit@1 DE GARD.

@3Enter@1 LILLIA BIANCA, ROSALURA, @3and@1 ORIANA.

Good day, fair beauties!
@3Lil@1. You have beautified us,
We thank you, sir; you have set us off most gallantly
With your grave precepts.
@3Ros@1. We expected husbands
Out of your documents and taught behaviours,
Excellent husbands; thought men would run stark mad on us,
Men of all ages and all states; we expected
An inundation of desires and offers,
A torrent of trim suitors; all we did,
Or said, or purposed, to be spells about us,
Spells to provoke.
@3Lil@1. You have provoked us finely!
We followed your directions, we did rarely,
We were stately, coy, demure, careless, light, giddy,
And played at all points: this, you swore, would carry.
@3Ros@1. We made love, and contemned love; now seemed holy,
With such a reverent put-on reservation
Which could not miss, according to your principles;
Now gave more hope again; now close, now public,
Still up and down we beat it like a billow;
And ever those behaviours you read to us,
Subtle and new: but all this will not help us.
@3Lil@1. They help to hinder us of all acquaintance,
They have frighted off all friends. What am I better
For all my learning, if I love a dunce,
A handsome dunce? to what use serves my reading?
You should have taught me what belongs to horses,
Dogs, dice, hawks, banquets, masques, free and fair meetings,
To have studied gowns and dressings.
@3Lug@1. Ye are not mad, sure!
@3Ros@1. We shall be, if we follow your encouragements:
I'll take mine own way now.
@3Lil@1. And I my fortune;
We may live maids else till the moon drop millstones:
I see, your modest women are taken for monsters;
A dowry of good breeding is worth nothing.
@3Lug@1. Since ye take it so to th' heart, pray ye, give me leave yet,
And ye shall see how I'll convert this heretic:
Mark how this Mirabel_____
@3Lil@1. Name him no more;
For, though I long for a husband, I hate him,
And would be married sooner to a monkey,
Or to a Jack of Straw, than such a juggler.
@3Ros@1. I am of that mind too: he is too nimble,
And plays at fast and loose too learnedly,
For a plain-meaning woman; that's the truth on't.
Here's one too, that we love well, would be angry;
[@3Pointing to@1 ORIANA.
And reason why. No, no, we will not trouble you,
Nor him at this time: may he make you happy!
We'll turn ourselves loose now to our fair fortunes;
And the downright way_____
@3Lil@1. The winning way we'll follow;
We'll bait that men may bite fair, and not be frighted:
Yet we'll not be carried so cheap neither; we'll have some sport,
Some mad-morris or other for our money, tutor.
@3Lug@1. 'Tis like enough: prosper your own devices!
Ye are old enough to choose. But, for this gentlewoman,
So please her give me leave_____
@3Ori@1. I shall be glad, sir,
To find a friend whose pity may direct me.
@3Lug@1. I'll do my best, and faithfully deal for you;
But then you must be ruled.
@3Ori@1. In all, I vow to you.
@3Ros@1. Do, do: he has a lucky hand sometimes, I'll assure you,
And hunts the recovery of a lost lover deadly.
@3Lug@1. You must away straight.
@3Ori@1. Yes.
@3Lug@1. And I'll instruct you:
Here you can know no more.
@3Ori@1. By your leave, sweet ladies;
And all our fortunes arrive at our own wishes!
@3Lil@1. Amen, amen!
@3Lug@1. I must borrow your man.
@3Lil@1. Pray, take him;
He is within: to do her good, take any thing,
Take us and all.
@3Lug@1. No doubt, ye may find takers;
And so, we'll leave ye to your own disposes.
[@3Exeunt@1 LUGIER @3and@1 ORIANA.
@3Lil@1. Now, which way, wench?
@3Ros@1. We'll go a brave way, fear not;
A safe and sure way too; and yet a by-way.
I must confess I have a great mind to be married
@3Lil@1. So have I too a grudging of good-will that way,
And would as fain be despatched. But this Monsieur Quicksilver_____
@3Ros@1. No, no; we'll bar him, bye and main: let him trample;
There is no safety in his surquedry:
An army-royal of women are too few for him;
He keeps a journal of his gentleness,
And will go near to print his fair despatches,
And call it his "Triumph over time and women:"
Let him pass out of memory! What think you
Of his two companions?
@3Lil@1. Pinac, methinks, is reasonable;
A little modesty he has brought home with him,
And might be taught, in time, some handsome duty.
@3Ros@1. They say, he is a wencher too.
@3Lil@1. I like him better;
A free light touch or two becomes a gentleman,
And sets him seemly off: So he exceed not,
But keep his compass clear, he may be looked at.
I would not marry a man that must be taught,
And conjured up with kisses; the best game
Is played still by the best gamesters.
@3Ros@1. Fie upon thee!
What talk hast thou!
@3Lil@1. Are not we alone, and merry?
Why should we be ashamed to speak what we think? Thy gentleman,
The tall fat fellow, he that came to see thee_____
@3Ros@1. Is't not a goodly man?
@3Lil@1. A wondrous goodly!
H'as weight enough, I warrant thee: mercy upon me,
What a serpent wilt thou seem under such a St. George
@3Ros@1. Thou art a fool! give me a man brings mettle,
Brings substance with him, needs no broths to lare him.
These little fellows shew like fleas in boxes,
Hop up and down, and keep a stir to vex us!
Give me the puissant pike; take you the small shot
@3Lil@1. Of a great thing, I have not seen a duller;
Therefore, methinks, sweet sister_____
@3Ros@1. Peace, he's modest;
A bashfulness; which is a point of grace, wench:
But, when these fellows come to moulding, sister,
To heat, and handling—As I live, I like him;
And, methinks, I could form him.
@3Lil@1. Peace; the fire-drake.

@3Enter@1 MIRABEL.

@3Mir@1. Bless ye, sweet beauties, sweet incomparable ladies,
Sweet wits, sweet humours! bless you, learnèd lady!
And you, most holy nun, bless your devotions!
@3Lil@1. And bless your brains, sir, your most pregnant brains, sir!
They are in travel; may they be delivered
Of a most hopeful wild-goose!
@3Ros@1. Bless your manhood!
They say you are a gentleman of action,
A fair accomplished man, and a rare engineer;
You have a trick to blow up maidenheads,
A subtle trick, they say abroad.
@3Mir@1. I have, lady.
@3Ros@1. And often glory in their ruins.
@3Mir@1. Yes, forsooth;
I have a speedy trick, please you to try it;
My engine will despatch you instantly.
@3Ros@1. I would I were a woman, sir, fit for you!
As there be such, no doubt, may engine you too;
May, with a counter-mine, blow up your valour:
But, in good faith, sir, we are both too honest;
And, the plague is, we cannot be persuaded;
For, look you, if we thought it were a glory
To be the last of all your lovely ladies_____
@3Mir@1. Come, come, leave prating: this has spoiled your market!
This pride and puft-up heart will make ye fast, ladies,
Fast when ye are hungry too.
@3Ros@1. The more our pain, sir.
@3Lil@1. The more our health, I hope too.
@3Mir@1. Your behaviours
Have made men stand amazed; those men that loved ye,
Men of fair states and parts. Your strange conversions
Into I know not what, nor how, nor wherefore;
Your scorns of those that came to visit ye;
Your studied whim-whams, and your fine set faces
What have these got ye? proud and harsh opinions:
A travelled monsieur was the strangest creature,
The wildest monster to be wondered at;
His person made a public scoff, his knowledge
(As if he had been bred 'mongst bears or bandogs)
Shunned and avoided; his conversation snuffed at;—
What harvest brings all this?
@3Ros@1. I pray you, proceed, sir.
@3Mir@1. Now ye shall see in what esteem a traveller,
An understanding gentleman, and a monsieur,
Is to be held; and, to your griefs, confess it,
Both to your griefs and galls.
@3Lil@1. In what, I pray you, sir?
We would be glad to understand your excellence.
@3Mir@1. Go on, sweet ladies; it becomes ye rarely!
For me, I have blest me from ye; scoff on seriously;
And note the man ye mocked. You, Lady Learning,
Note the poor traveller that came to visit you,
That flat unfurnished fellow; note him throughly;
You may chance to see him anon.
@3Lil@1. 'Tis very likely.
@3Mir@1. And see him courted by a travelled lady,
Held dear and honoured by a virtuous virgin;
May be, a beauty not far short of yours neither;
It may be, clearer.
@3Lil@1. Not unlikely.
@3Mir@1. Younger:
As killing eyes as yours, a wit as poignant;
May be, a state to that may top your fortune:
Inquire how she thinks of him, how she holds him;
His good parts, in what precious price already;
Being a stranger to him, how she courts him;
A stranger to his nation too, how she dotes on him;
Inquire of this; be sick to know: curse, lady,
And keep your chamber; cry, and curse: a sweet one,
A thousand in yearly land, well bred, well friended,
Travelled, and highly followed for her fashions.
@3Lil@1. Bless his good fortune, sir!
@3Mir@1. This scurvy fellow,
I think they call his name Pinac, this serving-man
That brought you venison, as I take it, madam,
Note but this scab : 'tis strange that this coarse creature,
That has no more set-off but his jugglings,
His travelled tricks_____
@3Lil@1. Good sir, I grieve not at him,
Nor envy not his fortune: yet I wonder:
He's handsome ; yet I see no such perfection.
@3Mir@1. Would I had his fortune! for 'tis a woman
Of that sweet-tempered nature, and that judgment,
Besides her state, that care, clear understanding,
And such a wife to bless him_____
@3Ros@1. Pray you, whence is she?
@3Mir@1. Of England, and a most accomplished lady;
So modest that men's eyes are frighted at her,
And such a noble carriage—

@3Enter a@1 Boy.

How now, sirrah?
@3Boy@1. Sir, the great English lady_____
@3Mir@1. What of her, sir?
@3Boy@1. Has newly left her coach, and coming this way,
Where you may see her plain: Monsieur Pinac
The only man that leads her.
@3Mir@1. He is much honoured;
Would I had such a favour! [@3Exit@1 Boy.

@3Enter@1 PINAC, MARIANA, @3and@1 Attendants.

Now vex, ladies,
Envy, and vex, and rail!
@3Ros@1. You are short of us, sir.
@3Mir@1. Bless your fair fortune, sir!
@3Pin@1. I nobly thank you.
@3Mir@1. Is she married friend?
@3Pin@1. No, no.
@3Mir@1. A goodly lady;
A sweet and delicate aspéct!—Mark, mark, and wonder!—
Hast thou any hope of her?
@3Pin@1. A little.
@3Mir@1. Follow close, then;
Lose not that hope.
@3Pin@1. To you, sir. [MARIANA @3courtsies to@1 MIRABEL.
@3Mir@1. Gentle lady!
@3Ros@1. She is fair, indeed.
@3Lil@1. I have seen a fairer; yet
She is well.
@3Ros@1. Her clothes sit handsome too.
@3Lil@1. She dresses prettily.
@3Ros@1. And, by my faith, she is rich; she looks still sweeter:
A well-bred woman, I warrant her.
@3Lil@1. Do you hear, sir?
May I crave this gentlewoman's name?
@3Pin@1. Mariana, lady.
@3Lil@1. I will not say I owe you a quarrel, monsieur,
For making me your stale: a noble gentleman
Would have had more courtesy, at least more faith,
Than to turn off his mistress at first trial:
You know not what respect I might have showed you;
I find you have worth.
@3Pin@1. I cannot stay to answer you;
You see my charge. I am beholding to you
For all your merry tricks you put upon me,
Your bobs, and base accounts: I came to love you,
To woo you, and to serve you; I am much indebted to you
For dancing me off my legs, and then for walking me;
For telling me strange tales I never heard of,
More to abuse me; for mistaking me,
When you both knew I was a gentleman,
And one deserved as rich a match as you are.
@3Lil@1. Be not so bitter, sir.
@3Pin@1. You see this lady:
She is young enough and fair enough to please me;
A woman of a loving mind, a quiet,
And one that weighs the worth of him that loves her;
I am content with this, and bless my fortune:
Your curious wits, and beauties_____
@3Lil@1. Faith, see me once more.
@3Pin@1. I dare not trouble you.
@3Lil@1. May I speak to your lady?
@3Pin@1. I pray you, content yourself: I know you are bitter,
And, in your bitterness, you may abuse her;
Which if she comes to know (for she understands you not),
It may breed such a quarrel to your kindred,
And such an indiscretion fling on you too
(For she is nobly friended)_____
@3Lil@1. I could eat her. [@3Aside.
Pin@1. Pest as you are, a modest noble gentlewoman,
And afford your honest neighbours some of your prayers.
[@3Exeunt@1 PINAC, MARIANA, @3and@1 Attendants.
@3Mir@1. What think you now?
@3Lil@1. Faith, she's a pretty whiting;
She has got a pretty catch too.
@3Mir@1. You are angry,
Monstrous angry now, grievously angry;
And the pretty heart does swell now.
@3Lil@1. No, in troth, sir.
@3Mir@1. And it will cry anon, "A pox upon it!"
And it will curse itself, and eat no meat, lady;
And it will sigh.
@3Lil@1. Indeed, you are mistaken;
It will be very merry.
@3Ros@1. Why, sir, do you think
There are no more men living, nor no handsomer,
Than he or you? By this light, there be ten thousand,
Ten thousand thousand! comfort yourself, dear monsieur;
Faces, and bodies, wits, and all abiliments—
There are so many we regard 'em not.
@3Mir@1. That such a noble lady—I could burst now!—
So far above such trifles_____

@3Enter@1. BELLEUR @3and two@1 Gentlemen.

@3Bel@1. You did laugh at me;
And I know why ye laughed.
1@3st Gent@1. I pray you, be satisfied:
If we did laugh, we had some private reason,
And not at you.
2@3nd Gent@1. Alas, we know you not, sir!
@3Bel@1. I'll make you know me. Set your faces soberly;
Stand this way, and look sad; I'll be no May-game;
Sadder, demurer yet.
@3Ros@1. What is the matter?
What ails this gentleman?
@3Bel@1. Go off now backward, that I may behold ye;
And not a simper, on your lives!
[@3Exeunt@1 Gentlemen, @3walking backwards.
Lil@1. He's mad, sure.
@3Bel@1. Do you observe me too?
@3Mir@1. I may look on you.
@3Bel@1. Why do you grin? I know your mind.
@3Mir@1. You do not.
You are strangely humorous: is there no mirth nor pleasure
But you must be the object?
@3Bel@1. Mark, and observe me. Wherever I am named,
The very word shall raise a general sadness,
For the disgrace this scurvy woman did me,
This proud pert thing: take heed you laugh not at me
Provoke me not; take heed.
@3Ros@1. I would fain please you;
Do any thing to keep you quiet.
@3Bel@1. Hear me.
Till I receive a satisfaction.
Equal to the disgrace and scorn you gave me,
You are a wretched woman; till thou woo'st me,
And I scorn thee as much, as seriously
Jeer and abuse thee; ask what gill thou art,
Or any baser name; I will proclaim thee,
I will so sing thy virtue, so be-paint thee_____
@3Ros@1. Nay, good sir, be more modest.
@3Bel@1. Do you laugh again?—
Because you are a woman, you are lawless,
And out of compass of an honest anger.
@3Ros@1. Good sir, have a better belief of me.
@3Lil@1. Away, dear sister! [@3Exit with@1 ROSALURA.
@3Mir@1. Is not this better now, this seeming madness,
Than falling out with your friends?
@3Bel@1. Have I not frighted her?
@3Mir@1. Into her right wits, I warrant thee: follow this humour,
And thou shalt see how prosperously 'twill guide thee.
@3Bel@1. I am glad I have found a way to woo yet; I was afraid once
I never should have made a civil suitor.
Well, I'll about it still.
@3Mir@1. Do, do, and prosper. [@3Exit@1 BELLEUR.
What sport do I make with these fools! what pleasure
Feeds me, and fats my sides at their poor innocence!
Wooing and wiving—hang it! give me mirth,
Witty and dainty mirth! I shall grow in love, sure,
With mine own happy head.

@3Enter@1 LUGIER, @3disguised@1.

Who's this? [@3Aside@1.]—To me, sir?—
What youth is this? [@3Aside.
Lug@1. Yes, sir, I would speak with you,
If your name be Monsieur Mirabel.
@3Mir@1. You have hit it:
Your business, I beseech you?
@3Lug@1. This it is, sir;
There is a gentlewoman hath long time affected you,
And loved you dearly.
@3Mir@1. Turn over, and end that story;
'Tis long enough: I have no faith in women, sir.
@3Lug@1. It seems so, sir. I do not come to woo for her,
Or sing her praises, though she well deserve 'em;
I come to tell you, you have been cruel to her,
Unkind and cruel, false of faith, and careless;
Taking more pleasure in abusing her,
Wresting her honour to your wild disposes,
Than noble in requiting her affection:
Which, as you are a man, I must desire you
(A gentleman of rank) not to persist in,
No more to load her fair name with your injuries.
@3Mir@1. Why, I beseech you, sir?
@3Lug@1. Good sir, I'll tell you.
And I'll be short; I'll tell you because I love you,
Because I would have you shun the shame may follow.
There is a nobleman, new come to town, sir,
A noble and a great man, that affects her,
(A countryman of mine, a brave Savoyan,
Nephew to the duke) and so much honours her,
That 'twill be dangerous to pursue your old way,
To touch at any thing concerns her honour,
Believe, most dangerous: her name is Oriana,
And this great man will marry her: take heed, sir;
For howsoe'er her brother, a staid gentleman,
Lets things pass upon better hopes, this lord, sir,
Is of that fiery and that poignant metal,
(Especially provoked on by affection)
That 'twill be hard—but you are wise.
@3Mir@1. A lord, sir?
@3Lug@1. Yes, and a noble lord.
@3Mir@1. Send her good fortune!
This will not stir her lord: a baroness!
Say you so? say you so? by'r lady, a brave title!
Top and top-gallant now! save her great ladyship!
I was a poor servant of hers, I must confess, sir,
And in those days I thought I might be jovy,
And make a little bold to call in to her;
But, @3basta;@1 now I know my rules and distance;
Yet, if she want an usher, such an implement,
One that is throughly paced, a clean-made gentleman,
Can hold a hanging up with approbation,
Plant his hat formally, and wait with patience,
I do beseech you, sir_____
@3Lug@1. Sir, leave your scoffing,
And, as you are a gentleman, deal fairly:
I have given you a friend's counsel; so, I'll leave you.
@3Mir@1. But, hark you, hark you, sir; is't possible
I may believe what you say?
@3Lug@1. You may choose, sir.
@3Mir@1. No baits? no fish-hooks, sir? no gins? no nooses?
No pitfals to catch puppies?
@3Lug@1. I tell you certain:
You may believe; if not, stand to the danger! [@3Exit.
Mir@1. A lord of Savoy, says he? the duke's nephew?
A man so mighty? by lady, a fair marriage!
By my faith, a handsome fortune! I must leave prating:
For, to confess the truth, I have abused her,
For which I should be sorry, but that will seem scurvy.
I must confess she was, ever since I knew her,
As modest as she was fair; I am sure she loved me;
Her means good, and her breeding excellent;
And for my sake she has refused fair matches:
I may play the fool finely.—Stay: who are these?

@3Re-enter@1 DE GARD, @3with@1 ORIANA, @3both of them disguised, and in rich
dress; and@1 Attendants.

'Tis she, I am sure; and that the lord, it should seem;
He carries a fair port, is a handsome man too.
I do begin to feel I am a coxcomb. [@3Aside@1
@3Ori@1. Good my lord, choose a nobler; for I know
I am so far below your rank and honour,
That what you can say this way I must credit
But spoken to beget yourself sport. Alas, sir,
I am so far off from deserving you,
My beauty so unfit for your affection,
That I am grown the scorn of common railers,
Of such injurious things that, when they cannot
Reach at my person, lie with my reputation!
I am poor, besides.
@3De Gard@1. You are all wealth and goodness;
And none but such as are the scum of men,
The ulcers of an honest state, spite-weavers,
That live on poison only, like swoln spiders,
Dare once profane such excellence, such sweetness.
@3Mir@1. This man speaks loud indeed.
@3De Gard@1. Name but the men, lady;
Let me but know these poor and base depravers,
Lay but to my revenge their persons open,
And you shall see how suddenly, how fully,
For your most beauteous sake, how direfully,
I'll handle their despites. Is this thing one?
Be what he will_____
@3Mir@1. Sir?
@3De Gard@1. Dare your malicious tongue, sir_____
@3Mir@1. I know you not, nor what you mean.
@3Ori@1. Good my lord_____
@3De Gard@1. If he, or any he_____
@3Ori@1. I beseech your honour—
This gentleman's a stranger to my knowledge;
And, no doubt, sir, a worthy man.
@3De Gard@1. Your mercy !—
But, had he been a tainter of your honour,
A blaster of those beauties reign within you—
But we shall find a fitter time. Dear lady,
As soon as I have freed you from your guardian,
And done some honoured offices unto you,
I'll take you with those faults the world flings on you,
And dearer than the whole world I'll esteem you!
[@3Exit with@1 ORIANA @3and@1 Attendants.
@3Mir@1. This is a thundering lord: I am glad I 'scaped him.
How lovingly the wench disclaimed my villany!
I am vexed now heartily that he shall have her;
Not that I care to marry, or to lose her,
But that this bilbo-lord shall reap that maidenhead
That was my due; that he shall rig and top her:
I'd give a thousand crowns now, he might miss her.

@3Enter@1 Servant.

@3Serv@1. Nay, if I bear your blows, and keep your counsel,
You have good luck, sir: I teach you to strike lighter.
@3Mir@1. Come hither, honest fellow: canst thou tell me
Where this great lord lies? this Savoy lord? thou mett'st him;
He now went by thee, certain.
@3Serv@1. Yes, he did, sir;
I know him, and I know you are fooled.
@3Mir@1. Come hither:
Here's all this, give me truth. [@3Gives money.
Serv@1. Not for your money,
(And yet that may do much) but I have been beaten,
And by the worshipful contrivers beaten, and I'll tell you:
This is no lord, no Savoy lord.
@3Mir@1. Go forward.
@3Serv@1. This is a trick, and put upon you grossly
By one Lugier: the lord is Monsieur De Gard, sir,
An honest gentleman, and a neighbour here:
Their ends you understand better than I, sure.
@3Mir@1. Now I know him; know him now plain.
@3Serv@1. I have discharged my colours; so, God b' wi' you, sir! [@3Exit.
Mir@1. What a purblind puppy was I! now I remember him;
All the whole cast on's face, though it were umbered;
And masked with patches: what a dunder-whelp,
To let him domineer thus! how he strutted,
And what a load of lord he clapt upon him!
Would I had him here again! I would so bounce him,
I would so thank his lordship for his lewd plot!
Do they think to carry it away, with a great band made of bird-pots,
And a pair of pin-buttocked breeches?—Ha! 'tis he again;

MIRABEL @3sings@1.

"He comes, he comes, he comes! have at him!

@3Re-enter@1 DE GARD, ORIANA, @3both disguised as before, and@1 Attendants.

My Savoy lord, why dost thou frown on me?
And will that favour never sweeter be?
Wilt thou, I say, for ever play the fool?
De Gard, be wise, and, Savoy, go to school!
My lord De Gard, I thank you for your antic;
My lady bright, that will be sometimes frantic;
You worthy train, that wait upon this pair,
Send you more wit, and them a bouncing bair!"

And so I take my humble leave of your honours! [@3Exit.
De Gard@1. We are discovered; there's no remedy:
Lillia Bianca's man, upon my life.
In stubbornness, because Lugier corrected him—
A shameless slave! plague on him for a rascal!
@3Ori@1. I was in a perfect hope. The bane on't is now,
He will make mirth on mirth, to persecute us.
@3De Gard@1. We must be patient: I am vexed to the proof too.
I'll try once more; then, if I fail, here's one speaks.
[@3Puts his hand on his sword.
Ori@1. Let me be lost and scorned first!
@3De Gard@1. Well, we'll consider.
Away, and let me shift; I shall be hooted else. [@3Excunt@1.

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.—@3A Street before the Lodging of@1 PINAC.

@3Enter@1 LUGIER, LILLIA BIANCA, @3and@1 Servant, @3carrying a willow
garland@1.

LUG. Faint not, but do as I direct you: trust me;
Believe me too; for what I have told you, lady,
As true as you are Lillia, is authentic;
I know it, I have found it: 'tis a poor courage
Flies off for one repulse. These travellers
Shall find, before we have done, a home-spun wit,
A plain French understanding, may cope with 'em.
They have had the better yet, thank your sweet squire here!
And let 'em brag. You would be revenged?
@3Lil@1. Yes, surely.
@3Lug@1. And married too
@3Lil@1. I think so.
@3Lug@1. Then be counselled;
You know how to proceed. I have other irons
Heating as well as yours, and I will strike
Three blows with one stone home. Be ruled, and happy;
And so, I leave you: now is the time.
@3Lil@1. I am ready,
If he do come to dor me. [@3Exit@1 LUGIER.
@3Serv@1. Will you stand here,
And let the people think you are God knows what mistress?
Let boys and prentices presume upon you?
@3Lil@1. Prithee, hold thy peace.
@3Serv@1. Stand at his door that hates you?
@3Lil@1. Prithee, leave prating.
@3Serv@1. Pray you, go to the tavern: I'll give you a pint of wine there.
If any of the mad-cap gentlemen should come by,
That take up women upon special warrant,
You were in a wise case now.
@3Lil@1. Give me the garland;
And wait you here.
[@3Takes the garland from@1 Servant, @3who retires@1.

@3Enter@1 MIRABEL, PINAC, MARIANA, Priest, @3and@1 Attendants.

@3Mir@1. She is here to seek thee, sirrah:
I told thee what would follow; she is mad for thee:
Show, and advance.—So early stirring, lady?
It shows a busy mind, a fancy troubled:
A willow garland too? is't possible?
'Tis pity so much beauty should lie musty;
But 'tis not to be helped now.
@3Lil@1. The more's my misery.—
Good fortune to you, lady! you deserve it;
To me, too-late repentance! I have sought it.
I do not envy, though I grieve a little,
You are mistress of that happiness, those joys,
That might have been, had I been wise—but fortune—
@3Pin@1. She understands you not; pray you, do not trouble her:
And do not cross me like a hare thus; 'tis as ominous.
@3Lil@1. I come not to upbraid your levity
(Though you made show of love, and though I liked you),
To claim an interest (we are yet both strangers;
But what we might have been, had you persevered, sir!)
To be an eye-sore to your loving lady:
This garland shows I give myself forsaken
(Yet, she must pardon me, 'tis most unwillingly;)
And all the power and interest I had in you
(As, I persuade myself, somewhat you loved me)
Thus patiently I render up, I offer
To her that must enjoy you, and so bless you;
Only, I heartily desire this courtesy,
And would not be denied, to wait upon you
This day, to see you tied, then no more trouble you.
@3Pin@1. It needs not, lady.
@3Lil@1. Good sir, grant me so much.
@3Pin@1. 'Tis private, and we make no invitation.
@3Lil@1. My presence, sir, shall not proclaim it public.
@3Pin@1. May be, 'tis not in town.
@3Lil@1. I have a coach, sir,
And a most ready will to do you service.
@3Mir@1. Strike now or never; make it sure: I tell thee,
[@3Aside to@1 PINAC
She will hang herself, if she have thee not.
@3Pin@1. Pray you, sir,
Entertain my noble mistress: only a word or two
With this importunate woman, and I'll relieve you.—
Now you see what your flings are, and your fancies,
Your states, and your wild stubbornness; now you find
What 'tis to gird and kick at men's fair services,
To raise your pride to such a pitch and glory
That goodness shows like gnats, scorned under you:
'Tis ugly, naught; a self-will in a woman,
Chained to an overweening thought, is pestilent,
Murders fair fortune first, then fair opinion.
There stands a pattern, a true patient pattern,
Humble and sweet.
@3Lil@1. I can but grieve my ignorance:
Repentance, some say too, is the best sacrifice;
For, sure, sir, if my chance had been so happy
(As I confess I was mine own destroyer)
As to have arrived at you, I will not prophesy,
But certain, as I think, I should have pleased you;
Have made you as much wonder at my courtesy,
My love, and duty, as I have disheartened you.
Some hours we have of youth, and some of folly;
And being free-born maids, we take a liberty,
And, to maintain that, sometimes we strain highly.
@3Pin@1. Now you talk reason.
@3Lil@1. But, being yoked and governed,
Married, and those light vanities purged from us,
How fair we grow! how gentle, and how tender,
We twine about those loves that shoot up with us!
A sullen woman fear, that talks not to you;
She has a sad and darkened soul, loves dully:
A merry and a free wench, give her liberty,
Believe her, in the lightest form she appears to you,
Believe her excellent, though she despise you;
Let but these fits and flashes pass, she will show to you
As jewels rubbed from dust, or gold new burnished:
Such had I been, had you believed.
@3Pin@1. Is't possible?
@3Lil@1. And to your happiness, I dare assure you,
If true love be accounted so: your pleasure,
Your will, and your command, had tied my motions:
But that hope's gone. I know you are young and giddy,
And, till you have a wife can govern with you,
You sail upon this world's sea light and empty,
Your bark in danger daily. 'Tis not the name neither
Of wife can steer you, but the noble nature,
The diligence, the care, the love, the patience:
She makes the pilot, and preserves the husband,
That knows and reckons every rib he is built on.
But this I tell you, to my shame.
@3Pin@1. I admire you;
And now am sorry that I aim beyond you.
@3Mir@1. So, so, so: fair and softly! she is thine own, boy;
[@3Aside to him@1.
She comes now without lure.
@3Pin@1. But that it must needs
Be reckoned to me as a wantonness,
Or worse, a madness, to forsake a blessing,
A blessing of that hope_____
@3Lil@1. I dare not urge you;
And yet, dear sir_____
@3Pin@1. 'Tis most certain, I had rather,
If 'twere in mine own choice—for you are my country-woman,
A neighbour here, born by me; she a stranger,
And who knows how her friends_____
@3Lil@1. Do as you please, sir;
If you be fast, not all the world—I love you.
It is most true, and clear I would persuade you;
And I shall love you still.
@3Pin@1. Go, get before me—
So much you have won upon me—do it presently:
Here's a priest ready—I'll have you.
@3Lil@1. Not now, sir;
No, you shall pardon me. Advance your lady;
I dare not hinder your most high preferment:
'Tis honour enough for me I have unmasked you.
@3Pin@1. How's that?
@3Lil@1. I have caught you, sir. Alas, I am no states-woman,
Nor no great traveller! yet I have found you:
I have found your lady too, your beauteous lady;
I have found her birth and breeding too, her discipline,
Who brought her over, and who kept your lady,
And, when he laid her by, what virtuous nunnery
Received her in: I have found all these. Are you blank now?
Methinks, such travelled wisdoms should not fool thus,—
Such excellent indiscretions!
@3Mir@1. How could she know this?
@3Lil@1. 'Tis true she is English-born; but most part French now,
And so I hope you will find her to your comfort.
Alas, I am ignorant of what she cost you!
The price of these hired clothes I do not know, gentlemen!
Those jewels are the broker's, how you stand bound for 'em!
@3Pin@1. Will you make this good?
@3Lil@1. Yes, yes; and to her face, sir,
That she is an English whore, a kind of fling-dust,
One of your London light-o'-loves, a right one;
Came over in thin pumps and half a petticoat,
One faith, and one smock, with a broken haberdasher:
I know all this without a conjurer:
Her name is Jumping Joan, an ancient sin-weaver;
She was first a lady's chambermaid, there slipped,
And broke her leg above the knee; departed,
And set up shop herself; stood the fierce conflicts
Of many a furious term; there lost her colours,
And last shipped over hither.
@3Mir@1. We are betrayed!
@3Lil@1. Do you come to fright me with this mystery?
To stir me with a stink none can endure, sir?
I pray you, proceed; the wedding will become you:
Who gives the lady? you? an excellent father!
A careful man, and one that knows a beauty!
Send you fair shipping, sir! and so, I'll leave you:
Be wise and manly; then I may chance to love you!
[@3Exit with@1 Servant.
@3Mir@1. As I live, I am ashamed this wench has reached me,
Monstrous ashamed; but there's no remedy.
This skewed-eyed carrion_____
@3Pin@1. This I suspected ever.—
Come, come, uncase; we have no more use of you;
Your clothes must back again.
@3Mari@1. Sir, you shall pardon me;
'Tis not our English use to be degraded.
If you will visit me, and take your venture,
You shall have pleasure for your properties:
And so, sweetheart_____ [@3Exit.
Mir@1. Let her go, and the devil go with her!
We have never better luck with these preludiums.
Come, be not daunted; think she is but a woman,
And, let her have the devil's wit, we'll reach her!
[@3Exeunt@1.

SCENE II.—@3A Public Walk@1.

[@3Enter@1 ROSALURA @3and@1 LUGIER.

@3Ros@1. You have now redeemed my good opinion, tutor,
And you stand fair again.
@3Lug@1. I can but labour,
And sweat in your affairs. I am sure Belleur
Will be here instantly, and use his anger,
His wonted harshness.
@3Ros@1. I hope he will not beat me.
@3Lug@1. No, sure, he has more manners. Be you ready.
@3Ros@1. Yes, yes, I am; and am resolved to fit him,
With patience to outdo all he can offer.
But how does Oriana?
@3Lug@1. Worse and worse still;
There is a sad house for her; she is now,
Poor lady, utterly distracted.
@3Ros@1. Pity,
Infinite pity! 'tis a handsome lady:
That Mirabel's a beast, worse than a monster,
If this affliction work not.

@3Enter@1 LILLIA BIANCA.

@3Lil@1. Are you ready?
Belleur is coming on here, hard behind me:
I have no leisure to relate my fortune;
Only I wish you may come off as handsomely.
Upon the sign, you know what.
@3Ros@1. Well, well; leave me.
[@3Exeunt@1 LILLIA BIANCA @3and@1 LUGIER.

@3Enter@1 BELLEUR.

@3Bel@1. How now?
@3Ros@1. You are welcome, sir.
@3Bel@1. 'Tis well you have manners.
That court'sy again, and hold your countenance staidly:
That look's too light; take heed: so; sit you down now;
And, to confirm me that your gall is gone,
Your bitterness dispersed, (for so I'll have it)
Look on me stedfastly, and, whatsoe'er I say to you,
Move not, nor alter in your face; you are gone, then;
For, if you do express the least distaste,
Or show an angry wrinkle, (mark me, woman!
We are now alone,) I will so conjure thee,
The third part of my execution
Cannot be spoke.
@3Ros@1. I am at your dispose, sir.
@3Bel@1. Now rise, and woo me a little; let me hear that faculty:
But touch me not; nor do not lie, I charge you.
Begin now.
@3Ros@1. If so mean and poor a beauty
May ever hope the grace_____
@3Bel@1. You cog, you flatter;
Like a lewd thing, you lie: "May hope that grace!"
Why, what grace canst thou hope for? Answer not;
For, if thou dost, and liest again, I'll swinge thee.
Do not I know thee for a pestilent woman?
A proud at both ends? Be not angry,
Nor stir not, o' your life.
@3Ros@1. I am counselled, sir.
@3Bel@1. Art thou not now (confess, for I'll have the truth out)
As much unworthy of a man of merit,
Or any of ye all, nay, of mere man,
Though he were crooked, cold, all wants upon him,
Nay, of any dishonest thing that bears that figure,
As devils are of mercy?
@3Ros@1. We are unworthy.
@3Bel@1. Stick to that truth, and it may chance to save thee.
And is it not our bounty that we take ye?
That we are troubled, vexed, or tortured with ye,
Our mere and special bounty?
@3Ros@1. Yes.
@3Bel@1. Our pity,
That for your wickedness we swinge ye soundly;
Your stubbornness and stout hearts, we belabour ye?
Answer to that!
@3Ros@1. I do confess your pity.
@3Bel@1. And dost not thou deserve in thine own person,
Thou impudent, thou pert—Do not change countenance.
@3Ros@1. I dare not, sir.
@3Bel@1. For, if you do_____
@3Ros@1. I am settled.
@3Bel@1. Thou wagtail, peacock, puppy, look on me:
I am a gentleman.
@3Ros@1. It seems no less, sir.
@3Bel@1. And dar'st thou in thy surquedry_____
@3Ros@1. I beseech you!—-
It was my weakness, sir, I did not view you,
I took not notice of your noble parts,
Nor called your person nor your fashion proper.
@3Bel@1. This is some amends yet.
@3Ros@1. I shall mend, sir, daily,
And study to deserve.
@3Bel@1. Come a little nearer:
Canst thou repent thy villany?
@3Ros@1. Most seriously.
@3Bel@1. And be ashamed?
@3Ros@1. I am ashamed.
@3Bel@1. Cry.
@3Ros@1. It will be hard to do, sir.
@3Bel@1. Cry now instantly;
Cry monstrously, that all the town may hear thee
Cry seriously, as if thou hadst lost they monkey;
And, as I like thy tears_____
@3Ros@1. Now! [@3To those within.
Bel@1. How! how! do you jeer me?
Have you broke your bounds again, dame?

@3Enter@1 LILLIA BIANCA, @3with four@1 Women, @3laughing@1.

@3Ros@1. yes, and laugh at you,
And laugh most heartily.
@3Bel@1. What are these? whirlwinds?
Is hell broke loose, and all the Furies fluttered?
Am I greased once again?
@3Ros@1. Yes, indeed are you;
And once again you shall be, if you quarrel:
Do you come to vent your fury on a virgin?
Is this your manhood, sir?
1@3st Wom@1. Let him do his best;
Let's see the utmost of his indignation;
I long to see him angry.—Come, proceed, sir.—
[@3The women display knives@1.
Hang him, he dares not stir; a man of timber!
2@3nd Wom@1. Come hither to fright maids with thy bull-faces!
To threaten gentlewomen! Thou a man! a Maypole,
A great dry pudding.
3@3rd Wom@1. Come, come. do your worst, sir;
Be angry, if thou dar'st.
@3Bel@1. The Lord deliver me!
4@3th Wom@1. Do but look scurvily upon this lady,
Or give us one foul word!—We are all mistaken;
This is some mighty dairy-maid in man's clothes.
@3Lil@1. I am of that mind too.
@3Bel@1. What will they do to me? [@3Aside.
Lil@1. And hired to come and abuse us:—a man has manners;
A gentleman, civility and breeding:—
Some tinker's trull, with a beard glued on.
I@3st Wom@1. Let's search him,
And, as we find him_____
@3Bel@1. Let me but depart from ye,
Sweet Christian women!
@3Lil@1. Hear the thing speak, neighbours.
@3Bel@1. 'Tis but a small request : if e'er I trouble ye,
If e'er I talk again of beating women,
Or beating any thing that can but turn to me;
Of ever thinking of a handsome lady
But virtuously and well;. of ever speaking
But to her honour,—this I'll promise ye,
I will take rhubarb, and purge choler mainly,
Abundantly I'll purge.
@3Lil@1. I'll send you broths, sir.
@3Bel@1. I will be laughed at, and endure it patiently;
I will do any thing.
@3Ros@1. I'll be your bail, then.
When you come next to woo, pray you, come not boisterously,
And furnished like a bear-ward.
@3Bel@1. No, in truth, forsooth.
@3Ros@1. I scented you long since.
@3Bel@1. I was to blame, sure:
I will appear a gentleman.
@3Ros@1. 'Tis the best for you,
For a true noble gentleman's a brave thing.
Upon that hope, we quit you. You fear seriously?
@3Bel@1. Yes, truly do I; I confess I fear you,
And honour you, and any thing.
@3Ros@1. Farewell, then.
@3Wom@1. And, when you come to woo next, bring more mercy.
[@3Exeunt all except@1 BELLEUR.
@3Bel@1. A dairy-maid! a tinker's trull! Heaven bless me!
Sure, if I had provoked 'em, they had quartered me.

@3Enter two@1 Gentlemen.

I am a most ridiculous ass, now I perceive it;
A coward, and a knave too.
1@3st Gent@1. 'Tis the mad gentleman;
Let's set our faces right.
@3Bel@1. No, no; laugh at me,
And laugh aloud.
2@3nd Gent@1. We are better mannered, sir.
@3Bel@1. I do deserve it; call me patch and puppy,
And beat me, if you please.
1@3st Gent@1. No, indeed; we know you.
@3Bel@1. 'Death, do as I would have ye!
2@3nd Gent@1. You are an ass, then,
A coxcomb, and a calf!
@3Bel@1. I am a great calf.
Kick me a little now: why, when ? [@3They kick him@1.] Sufficient.
Now laugh aloud, and scorn me. So good b' wi' ye!
And ever, when ye meet me, laugh.
@3Gentlemen@1. We will, sir.
[@3Exeunt on one side@1, @3the two@1 Gentlemen; @3on the other@1,
BELLEUR.

SCENE III.—@3A Hall in the House of@1 LA CASTRE.

@3Enter@1 NANTOLET, LA CASTRE, DE GARD, LUGIER, @3and@1 MIRABEL.

@3Mir@1. Your patience, gentlemen; why do ye bait me?
@3Nant@1. Is't not a shame you are so stubborn-hearted,
So stony and so dull, to such a lady,
Of her perfections and her misery?
@3Lug@1. Does she not love you? does not her distraction
For your sake only, her most pitied lunacy
Of all but you, show ye? does it not compel you?
@3Mir@1. Soft and fair, gentlemen; pray ye, proceed temperately.
@3Lug@1. If you have any feeling, any sense in you,
The least touch of a noble heart_____
@3La Cast@1. Let him alone:
It is his glory that he can kill beauty.—
You bear my stamp, but not my tenderness;
Your wild unsavoury courses let that in you!
For shame, be sorry, though you cannot cure her;
Show something of a man, of a fair nature.
@3Mir@1. Ye make me mad!
@3De Gard@1. Let me pronounce this to you;
You take a strange felicity in slighting
And wronging women, which my poor sister feels now;
Heaven's hand be gentle on her! Mark me, sir;
That very hour she dies (there's small hope otherwise),
That minute, you and I must grapple for it;
Either your life or mine.
@3Mir@1. Be not so hot, sir;
I am not to be wrought on by these policies,
In truth, I am not; nor do I fear the tricks,
Or the high-sounding threats, of a Savoyan.
I glory not in cruelty, (ye wrong me,)
Nor grow up watered with the tears of women.
This let me tell ye, howsoe'er I show to ye,
Wild, as ye please to call it, or self-willed,
When I see cause, I can both do and suffer,
Freely and feelingly, as a true gentleman.

@3Enter@1 ROSALURA @3and@1 LILLIA BIANCA.

@3Ros@1. Oh, pity, pity! thousand, thousand pities!
@3Lil@1. Alas, poor soul, she will die! she is grown senseless;
She will not know nor speak now.
@3Ros@1. Die for love!
And love of such a youth! I would die for a dog first:
He that kills me, I'll give him leave to eat me;
I'll know men better, ere I sigh for any of 'em.
@3Lil@1. You have done a worthy act, sir, a most famous;
You have killed a maid the wrong way; you are a conqueror.
@3Ros@1. A conqueror! a cobbler! hang him, sowter!—
Go hide thyself, for shame! go lose thy memory!
Live not 'mongst men; thou art a beast, a monster,
A blatant beast!
@3Lil@1. If you have yet any honesty,
Or ever heard of any, take my counsel;
Off with your garters, and seek out a bough,—
A handsome bough, for I would have you hang like a gentleman;
And write some doleful matter to the world,
A warning to hard-hearted men.
@3Mir@1. Out, kittlings!
What caterwauling's here! what gibing!
Do you think my heart is softened with a black santis?
Show me some reason.

Servants @3bring in@1 ORIANA @3on a couch@1.

@3Ros@1. Here then, here is a reason.
@3Nant@1. Now, if you be a man, let this sight shake you!
@3La Cast@1. Alas, poor gentlewoman!—Do you know me, lady?
@3Lug@1. How she looks up, and stares!
@3Ori@1. I know you very well;
You are my godfather: and that's the monsieur.
@3De Gard@1. And who am I?
@3Ori@1. You are Amadis de Gaul, sir.—
Oh, oh, my heart!—Were you never in love, sweet lady?
And do you never dream of flowers and gardens?
I dream of walking fires: take heed; it comes now.
Who's that? Pray, stand away. I have seen that face, sure.—
How light my head is!
@3Ros@1. Take some rest.
@3Ori@1. I cannot;
For I must be up to-morrow to go to church,
And I must dress me, put my new gown on,
And be as fine to meet my love! Heigh-ho!
Will not you tell me where my love lies buried?
@3Mir@1. He is not dead.—Beshrew my heart, she stirs me! [@3Aside.
Ori@1. He is dead to me.
@3Mir@1. Is't possible my nature
Should be so damnable to let her suffer?— [@3Aside@1.
Give me your hand.
@3Ori@1. How soft you feel, how gentle!
I'll tell you your fortune, friend.
@3Mir@1. How she stares on me!
@3Ori@1. You have a flattering face, but 'tis a fine one;
I warrant you may have a hundred sweethearts.
Will you pray for me? I shall die to-morrow;
And will you ring the bells?
@3Mir@1. I am most unworthy,
I do confess, unhappy. Do you know me?
@3Ori@1. I would I did!
@3Mir@1. Oh, fair tears, how ye take me!
@3Ori@1. Do you weep too? you have not lost your lover?
You mock me: I'll go home and pray.
@3Mir@1. Pray you, pardon me,
Or, if it please you to consider justly,
Scorn me, for I deserve it; scorn and shame me,
Sweet Oriana!
@3Lil@1. Let her alone; she trembles:
Her fits will grow more strong, if you provoke her.
@3La Cast@1. Certain she knows you not, yet loves to see you.
How she smiles now!

@3Enter@1 BELLEUR.

@3Bel@1. Where are you? Oh, why do not you laugh? come, laugh at me:
Why a devil art thou sad, and such a subject,
Such a ridiculous subject, as I am,
Before thy face?
@3Mir@1. Prithee, put off this lightness;
This is no time for mirth, nor place; I have used too much on't:
I have undone myself and a sweet lady,
By being too indulgent to my foolery,
Which truly I repent. Look here.
@3Bel@1. What ails she?
@3Mir@1. Alas, she is mad!
@3Bel@1. Mad!
@3Mir@1. Yes, too sure; for me too.
@3Bel@1. Dost thou wonder at that? by this good light they are all so;
They are cozening-mad, they are brawling-mad, they are proud-mad;
They are all, all mad: I came from a world of mad women,
Mad as March hares: get 'em in chains, then deal with 'em.
There's one that's mad; she seems well, but she is dog-mad.
Is she dead, dost think?
@3Mir@1. Dead! Heaven forbid!
@3Bel@1. Heaven further it!
For, till they be key-cold dead, there's no trusting of 'em:
Whate'er they seem, or howsoe'er they carry it,
Till they be chap-faln, and their tongues at peace,
Nailed in their coffins sure: I'll ne'er believe 'em.
Shall I talk with her?
@3Mir@1. No, dear friend, be quiet,
And be at peace a while.
@3Bel@1. I'll walk aside,
And come again anon. But take heed to her:
You say she is a woman?
@3Mir@1. Yes.
@3Bel@1. Take great heed;
For, if she do not cozen thee, then hang me:
Let her be mad, or what she will, she'll cheat thee!
@3Mir@1. Away, wild fool! [@3Exit@1 BELLEUR.
How vile this shows in him now!—
Now take my faith, (before ye all I speak it,)
And with it my repentant love.
@3La Cast@1. This seems well.
@3Mir@1. Were but this lady clear again, whose sorrows
My very heart melts for, were she but perfect,
(For thus to marry her would be two miseries,)
Before the richest and the noblest beauty,
France or the world could show me, I would take her:
As she is now, my tears and prayers shall wed her.
@3De Gard@1. This makes some small amends.
@3Ros@1. She beckons to you;
To us, too, to go off.
@3Nant@1. Let's draw aside all.
[@3Exeunt all except@1 ORIANA @3and@1 MIRABEL.
@3Ori@1. Oh, my best friend! I would fain_____
@3Mir@1. What! she speaks well,
And with another voice. [@3Aside.
Ori@1. But I am fearful,
And shame a little stops my tongue_____
@3Mir@1. Speak boldly.
@3Ori@1. Tell you, I am well. I am perfect well (pray you, mock not)
And that I did this to provoke your nature;
Out of my infinite and restless love,
To win your pity. Pardon me!
@3Mir@1. Go forward:
Who set you on?
@3Ori@1. None, as I live, no creature;
Not any knew or ever dreamed what I meant.
Will you be mine?
@3Mir@1. 'Tis true, I pity you;
But, when I marry you, you must be wiser.
Nothing but tricks? devices?
@3Ori@1. Will you shame me?
@3Mir@1. Yes, marry, will I.—Come near, come near! a miracle!
The woman's well; she was only mad for marriage,
Stark mad to be stoned to death: give her good counsel.-
Will this world never mend?—Are you caught, damsel?

@3Enter@1 BELLEUR, NANTOLET, LA CASTRE, DE GARD, LUGIER, ROSALURA,
@3and@1
LILLIA BIANCA.

@3Bel@1. How goes it now?
@3Mir@1. Thou art a kind of prophet;
The woman's well again, and would have gulled me;
Well, excellent well, and not a taint upon her.
@3Bel@1. Did not I tell you? let 'em be what can be,
Saints, devils, any thing, they will abuse us:
Thou wert an ass to believe her so long, a coxcomb:
Give 'em a minute, they'll abuse whole millions.
@3Mir@1. And am not I a rare physician, gentlemen,
That can cure desperate mad minds?
@3De Gard@1. Be not insolent.
@3Mir@1. Well, go thy ways: from this hour I disclaim thee,
Unless thou hast a trick above this; then I'll love thee.
You owe me for your cure.—Pray, have a care of her,
For fear she fall into relapse.—Come, Belleur;
We'll set up bills to cure diseasèd virgins.
@3Bel@1. Shall we be merry?
@3Mir@1. Yes.
@3Bel@1. But I'll no more projects:
If we could make 'em mad, it were some mastery.
[@3Exeunt@1 MIRABEL @3and@1 BELLEUR.
@3Lil@1. I am glad she is well again.
@3Ros@1. So am I, certain.—
Be not ashamed.
@3Ori@1. I shall never see a man more.
@3De Gard@1. Come, you are a fool: had you but told me this trick,
He should not have gloried thus.
@3Lug@1. He shall not long, neither.
@3La Cast@1. Be ruled, and be at peace: you have my consent,
And what power I can work with.
@3Nant@1. Come, leave blushing;
We are your friends: an honest way compelled you:
Heaven will not see so true a love unrecompensed.
Come in, and slight him too.
@3Lug@1. The next shall hit him. [@3Exeunt@1.

ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.—@3A Street@1, @3before the House of@1 LA CASTRE.

@3Enter@1 DE GARD @3and@1 LUGIER.

DE GARD. 'Twill be discovered.
@3Lug@1. That's the worst can happen:
If there be any way to reach, and work upon him,
Upon his nature suddenly, and catch him—That he loves,
Though he dissemble it, and would show contrary,
And will at length relent, I'll lay my fortune;
Nay, more, my life.
@3De Gard@1. Is she won?
@3Lug@1. Yes, and ready,
And my designments set.
@3De Gard@1. They are now for travel;
All for that game again; they have forgot wooing.
@3Lug@1. Let 'em; we'll travel with 'em.
@3De Gard@1. Where's his father?
@3Lug@1. Within; he knows my mind too, and allows it,
Pities your sister's fortune most sincerely,
And has appointed, for our more assistance,
Some of his secret friends.
@3De Gard@1. Speed the plough!
@3Lug@1. Well said!
And be you serious too.
@3De Gard@1. I shall be diligent.
@3Lug@1. Let's break the ice for one, the rest will drink too
(Believe me, sir) of the same cup. My young gentlewomen
Wait but who sets the game a-foot: though they seem stubborn,
Reserved, and proud now, yet I know their hearts,
Their pulses how they beat, and for what cause, sir,
And how they long to venture their abilities
In a true quarrel; husbands they must and will have,
Or nunneries and thin collations
To cool their bloods. let's all about our business;
And, if this fail, let nature work.
@3De Gard@1. You have armed m [@3Exeunt@1.

SCENE II.—@3A Public Walk@1:

@3Enter@1 MIRABEL, NANTOLET, @3and@1 LA CASTRE.

@3La Cast@1. Will you be wilful, then?
@3Mir@1. Pray, sir, your pardon;
For I must travel. Lie lazy here,
Bound to a wife! chained to her subtleties,
Her humours, and her wills, which are mere fetters!
To have her to-day pleased, to-morrow peevish,
The third day mad, the fourth rebellious!
You see before they are married, what moriscoes,
What masques and mummeries they put upon us:
To be tied here, and suffer their lavoltas!
@3Nant@1. 'Tis your own seeking.
@3Mir@1. Yes, to get my freedom.
Were they as I could wish 'em_____
@3La Cast@1. Fools and meacocks,
To endure what you think fit to put upon 'em.
Come, change your mind.
@3Mir@1. Not before I have changed air, father.
When I know women worthy of my company,
I will return again, and wait upon 'em;
Till then, dear sir, I'll amble all the world over,
And run all hazards, misery, and poverty,
So I escape the dangerous bay of matrimony.

@3Enter@1 PINAC @3and@1 BELLEUR.

@3Pin@1. Are you resolved?
@3Mir@1. Yes, certain; I will out again.
@3Pin@1. We are for you, sir; we are your servants once more:
Once more we'll seek our fortune in strange countries;
Ours is too scornful for us.
@3Bel@1. Is there ne'er a land
That you have read or heard of (for I care not how far it be,
Nor under what pestiferous star it lies),
A happy kingdom, where there are no women?
Nor have been ever? nor no mention
Of any such lewd things with lewder qualities?
For thither would I travel; where 'tis felony
To confess he had a mother; a mistress, treason.
@3La Cast@1. Are you for travel too?
@3Bel@1. For any thing,
For living in the moon, and stopping hedges,
Ere I stay here to be abused and baffled.
@3Nant@1. Why did ye not break your minds to me? they are my daughters;
And, sure, I think I should have that command over 'em,
To see 'em well bestowed: I know ye are gentlemen,
Men of fair parts and states; I know your parents:
And, had ye told me of your fair affections_____
Make but one trial more, and let me second ye.
@3Bel@1. No; I'll make hob-nails first, and mend old kettles.
Can you lend me and armour of high proof, to appear in,
And two or three field-pieces to defend me?
The king's guard are mere pigmies.
@3Nant@1. They will not eat you.
@3Bel@1. Yes, and you too, and twenty fatter monsieurs,
If their high stomachs hold: they came with chopping knives,
To cut me into rands and sirloins, and so powder me.—
Come, shall we go?
@3Nant@1. You cannot be so discourteous,
If ye intend to go, as not to visit 'em,
And take your leaves.
@3Mir@1. That we dare do, and civilly,
And thank 'em too.
@3Pin@1. Yes, sir, we know that honesty.
@3Bel@1. I'll come i' the rear, forty foot off, I'll assure you,
With a good gun in my hand; I'll no more Amazons,
I mean, no more of their frights: I'll make my three legs,
Kiss my hand twice, and, if I smell no danger,
If the interview be clear, may be I'll speak to her;
I'll wear a privy coat too, and behind me,
To make those parts secure, a bandog.
@3La Cast@1. You are a merry gentleman.
@3Bel@1. A wary gentleman, I do assure you;
I have been warned; and must be armed.
@3La Cast@1. Well, son,
These are your hasty thoughts; when I see you are bent to it,
Then I'll believe, and join with you: so, we'll leave you.—
There's a trick will make you stay. [@3Aside.
Nant@1. I hope so. [@3Aside@1.
[@3Exeunt@1 LA CASTRE @3and@1 NANTOLET.
@3Mir@1. We have won immortal fame now, if we leave 'em.
@3Pin@1. You have; but we have lost.
@3Mir@1. Pinac, thou art cozened:
I know they love ye; and to gain ye handsomely,
Not to be thought to yield, they would give millions:
Their father's willingness, that must needs show ye.
@3Pin@1. If I thought so_____
@3Mir@1. You shall be hanged, you recreant!
Would you turn renegado now?
@3Bel@1. No; let's away, boys,
Out of the air and tumult of their villanies.
Though I were married to that grasshopper,
And had her fast by the legs, I should think she would cozen me.

@3Enter a@1 Young Man, @3disguised as a@1 Factor.

@3Y. Man@1. Monsieur Mirabel, I take it?
@3Mir@1. You're i' the right, sir.
@3Y. Man@1. I am come to seek you, sir; I have been at your father's,
And, understanding you were here_____
@3Mir@1. You are welcome.
May I crave your name?
@3Y. Man@1. Fosse, sir, and your servant.
That you may know me better, I am factor
To your old merchant, Leverdure.
@3Mir@1. How does he?
@3Y. Man@1. Well, sir, I hope; he is now at Orleans,
About some business.
@3Mir@1. You are once more welcome.
Your master's a right honest man, and one
I am much beholding to, and must very shortly
Trouble his love again.
@3Y. Man@1. You may be bold, sir.
@3Mir@1. Your business, if you please now?
@3Y. Man@1. This, it is, sir.
I know you well remember in your travel
A Genoa merchant_____
@3Mir@1. I remember many.
@3Y. Man@1. But this man, sir, particularly; your own benefit
Must needs imprint him in you; one Alberto,
A gentleman you saved from being murdered
A little from Bologna:
I was then myself in Italy, and supplied you;
Though happily you have forgot me now.
@3Mir@1. No, I remember you,
And that Alberto too; a noble gentleman:
More to remember were to thank myself, sir.
What of that gentleman?
@3Y. Man@1. He is dead.
@3Mir@1. I am sorry.
@3Y. Man@1. But on his death-bed, leaving to his sister
All that he had, beside some certain jewels,
Which, with a ceremony, he bequeathed to you,
In grateful memory, he commanded strictly
His sister, as she loved him and his peace,
To see those jewels safe and true delivered,
And, with them, his last love. She, as tender to
Observe his will, not trusting friend nor servant
With such a weight, is come herself to Paris,
And at my master's house.
@3Mir@1. You tell me a wonder.
@3Y. Man@1. I tell you a truth, sir. She is young and handsome,
And well attended; of much state and riches;
So loving and obedient to her brother,
That, on my conscience, if he had given her also,
She would most willingly have made her tender.
@3Mir@1. May not I see her?
@3Y. Man@1. She desires it heartily.
@3Mir@1. And presently?
@3Y. Man@1. She is now about some business,
Passing accounts of some few debts here owing,
And buying jewels of a merchant.
@3Mir@1. Is she wealthy?
@3Y. Man@1. I would you had her, sir, at all adventure!
Her brother had a main state.
@3Mir@1. And fair too?
@3Y. Man@1. The prime of all those parts of Italy,
For beauty and for courtesy.
@3Mir@1. I must needs see her.
@3Y. Man@1. 'Tis all her business, sir. You may now see her;
But to-morrow will be fitter for your visitation,
For she is not yet prepared.
@3Mir@1. Only her sight, sir:
And, when you shall think fit, for further visit.
@3Y. Man@1. Sir, you may see her, and I'll wait your coming.
@3Mir@1. And I'll be with you instantly;—I know the house;—
Meantime, my love and thanks, sir
@3Y. Man@1. Your poor servant. [@3Exit.@1
@3Pin@1. Thou hast the strangest luck! what was that Alberto?
@3Mir@1. An honest noble merchant, 'twas my chance
To rescue from some rogues had almost slain him;
And he in kindness to remember this!
@3Bel@1. Now we shall have you
For all your protestations and your forwardness,
Find out strange fortunes in this lady's eyes,
And new enticements to put off your journey;
And who shall have honour then?
@3Mir@1. No, no, never fear it:
I must needs see her to receive my legacy.
@3Bel@1. If it be tied up in her smock, Heaven help thee!
May not we see too?
@3Mir@1. Yes, afore we go:
I must be known myself, ere I be able
To make thee welcome. Wouldst thou see more women?
I thought you had been out of love with all.
@3Bel@1. I may be
(I find that), with the least encouragement;
Yet I desire to see whether all countries
Are naturally possessed with the same spirits,
For, if they be, I'll take a monastery,
And never travel: for I had rather be a friar,
And live mewed up, than be a fool, and flouted.
@3Mir@1. Well, well, I'll meet ye anon, then tell you more, boys;
However, stand prepared, prest for our journey;
For certain we shall go, I think, when I have seen her,
And viewed her well.
@3Pin@1. Go, go, and we'll wait for you;
Your fortune directs ours.
@3Bel@1. You shall find us i' the tavern,
Lamenting in sack and sugar for our losses.
If she be right Italian, and want servants,
You may prefer the properest man: how I could
Worry a woman now!
@3Pin@1. Come, come, leave prating:
You may have enough to do, without this boasting.
[@3Exeunt, on one side@1, PINAC @3and@1 BELLEUR; @3on the other@1,
MIRABEL.

SCENE III.—@3A Room in the House of@1 NANTOLET.

@3Enter@1 LUGIER, DE GARD, ROSALURA, @3and@1 LILLIA BIANCA.

@3Lug@1. This is the last adventure.
@3De Gard@1. And the happiest,
As we hope, too.
@3Ros@1. We should be glad to find it.
@3Lil@1. Who shall conduct us thither?
@3Lug@1. Your man is ready,
For I must not be seen; no, nor this gentleman;
That may beget suspicion; all the rest
Are people of no doubt. I would have ye, ladies,
Keep your old liberties, and as we instruct ye.
Come, look not pale; you shall not lose your wishes,
Nor beg 'em neither; but be yourselves and happy.
@3Ros@1. I tell you true, I cannot hold off longer,
Nor give no more hard language.
@3De Gard@1. You shall not need.
@3Ros@1. I love the gentleman, and must now show it:
Shall I beat a proper man out of heart?
@3Lug@1. There's none advises you.
@3Lil@1. Faith, I repent me too.
@3Lug@1. Repent, and spoil all;
Tell what you know, you had best!
@3Lil@1. I'll tell what I think;
For, if he ask me now, if I can love him,
I'll tell him, yes, I can. The man's a kind man,
And out of his true honesty affects me:
Although he played the fool, which I requited,
Must I still hold him at the staff's end?
@3Lug@1. You are two strange women.
@3Ros@1. We may be, if we fool still.
@3Lug@1. Dare ye believe me?
Follow but this advice I have set you in now,
And if ye lose—Would ye yield now so basely?
Give up without your honours saved?
@3De Gard@1. Fie, ladies!
Preserve your freedom still.
@3Lil@1. Well, well, for this time.
@3Lug@1. And carry that full state—
@3Ros@1. That's as the wind stands;
If it begin to chop about, and scant us,
Hang me, but I know what I'll do! Come, direct us;
I make no doubt we shall do handsomely.
@3De Gard@1. Some part o' the way we'll wait upon ye, ladies;
The rest your man supplies.
@3Lug@1. Do well, I'll honour ye. [@3Exeunt@1.

SCENE IV.—@3A Room in a neighbouring House, with a Gallery@1

ORIANA @3disguised as an Italian lady, and two persons disguised as@1
Merchants,
@3discovered above. Enter, below, the@1 Young Man @3disguised as a@1 Factor,
@3and@1 MIRABEL.

@3Y. Man@1. Look you, sir, there she is; you see how busy
Methinks you are infinitely bound to her for her journey.
@3Mir@1. How gloriously she shows! she is a tall woman.
@3Y. Man@1. Of a fair size, sir. My master not being at home,
I have been so out of my wits to get her company!
I mean, sir, of her own fair sex and fashion_____
@3Mir@1. Afar off, she is most fair too.
@3Y. Man@1. Near, most excellent—
At length, I have entreated two fair ladies
(And happily you know 'em), the young daughters
Of Monsieur Nantolet.
@3Mir@1. I know 'em well, sir.
What are those? jewels?
@3Y. Man@1. All.
@3Mir@1. They make a rich show.
@3Y. Man@1. There is a matter of ten thousand pounds too
Was owing here: you see those merchants with her;
They have brought it in now.
@3Mir@1. How handsomely her shape shows!
@3Y. Man@1. Those are still neat; your Italians are most curious.
Now she looks this way.
@3Mir@1. She has a goodly presence;
How full of courtesy!—Well, sir, I'll leave you;
And, if I may be bold to bring a friend or two,
Good noble gentlemen_____
@3Y. Man@1. No doubt, you may, sir;
For you have most command.
@3Mir@1. I have seen a wonder! [@3Exit.
Ori@1. Is he gone?
@3Y. Man@1. Yes.
@3Ori@1. How?
@3Y. Man@1. Taken to the utmost:
A wonder dwells about him.
@3Ori@1. He did not guess at me?
@3Y. Man@1. No, be secure; you show another woman.
He is gone to fetch his friends.
@3Ori@1. Where are the gentlewomen?

@3Enter, below@1, ROSALURA, LILLIA BIANCA, @3and@1 Servant.

@3Y. Man@1. Here, here: now they are come,
Sit still, and let them see you.
@3Ros@1. Pray you, where's my friend, sir?
@3Y. Man@1. She is within, ladies; but here's another gentlewoman,
A stranger to this town: so please you visit her,
'Twill be well taken.
@3Lil@1. Where is she?
@3Y. Man@1. There, above, ladies.
@3Serv@1. Bless me, what thing is this? two pinnacles
Upon her pate! is't not a glade to catch woodcocks?
@3Ros@1. Peace, you rude knave!
@3Serv@1. What a bouncing bum she has too!
There's sail enough for a carrack.
@3Ros@1. What is this lady?
For, as I live, she is a goodly woman.
@3Y. Man@1. Guess, guess.
@3Lil@1. I have not seen a nobler presence.
@3Serv@1. 'Tis a lusty wench: now could I spend my forty-pence,
With all my heart, to have but one fling at her,
To give her but one swashing blow.
@3Lil@1. You rascal!
@3Serv@1. Ay, that's all a man has for's good will: 'twill be long enough
Before you cry, "Come, Anthony, and kiss me."
@3Lil@1. I'll have you whipt.
@3Ros@1. Has my friend seen this lady?
@3Y. Man@1. Yes, yes, and is well known to her.
@3Ros@1. I much admire her presence.
@3Lil@1. So do I too;
For, I protest, she is the handsomest,
The rarest, and the newest to mine eye,
That ever I saw yet.
@3Ros@1. I long to know her;
My friend shall do that kindness.
@3Ori@1. So she shall, ladies:
Come, pray ye, come up.
@3Ros@1. Oh me!
@3Lil@1. Hang me, if I knew her !—
Were I a man myself, I should now love you;
Nay, I should dote.
@3Ros@1. I dare not trust mine eyes;
For, as I live, you are the strangest altered!
I must come up to know the truth.
@3Serv@1. So must I, lady:
For I'm a kind of unbeliever too.
@3Lil@1. Get you gone, sirrah;
And what you have seen be secret in; you are paid else!
No more of your long tongue.
@3Y. Man@1. Will ye go in, ladies,
And talk with her? These venturers will come straight.
Away with this fellow!
@3Lil@1. There, sirrah; go, disport you.
@3Serv@1. I would the trunk-hosed woman would go with me.
[@3Exeunt, on one side,@1 ROSALURA, LILLIA BIANCA, @3and the@1
Young Man @3disguised as a@1 Factor; @3on the other@1, Servant.

SCENE V.—@3The Street, before the same House@1.

@3Enter@1 MIRABEL, PINAC, @3and@1 BELLEUR.

@3Pin@1. Is she so glorious handsome?
@3Mir@1. You would wonder;
Our women look like gipsies, like gills to her;
Their clothes and fashions beggarly, and bankrupt,
Base, old, and scurvy.
@3Bel@1. How looks her face?
@3Mir@1. Most heavenly;
And the becoming motion of her body
So sets her off!
@3Bel@1. Why then, we shall stay.
@3Mir@1. Pardon me,
That's more than I know; if she be that woman
She appears to be_____
@3Bel@1. As 'tis impossible.
@3Mir@1. I shall then tell ye more.
@3Pin@1. Did you speak to her?
@3Mir@1. No, no, I only saw her; she was busy:
Now I go for that end; and mark her, gentlemen,
If she appear not to ye one of the sweetest,
The handsomest, the fairest in behaviour!
We shall meet the two wenches there too; they come to visit her,
To wonder, as we do.
@3Pin@1. Then we shall meet 'em.
@3Bel@1. I had rather meet two bears.
@3Mir@1. There you may take your leaves, despatch that business,
And, as ye find their humours_____
@3Pin@1. Is your love there too?
@3Mir@1. No, certain; she has no great heart to set out again.
This is the house; I'll usher ye.
@3Bel@1. I'll bless me,
And take a good-heart, if I can.
@3Mir@1. Come, nobly. [@3Exeunt into the house@1.

SCENE VI.—@3A Room in the same House@1.

@3Enter the@1 Young Man @3disguised as a@1 Factor, ROSALURA, LILLIA
BIANCA,
@3and@1 ORIANA @3disguised as before@1.

@3Y. Man@1. They are come in. Sit you two off, as strangers.—
There, lady.—Where's the boy?

@3Enter@1 Boy.

Be ready, sirrah,
And clear your pipes.—The music now; they 'enter.
[@3Music within@1.

@3Enter@1 MIRABEL, PINAC, @3and@1 BELLEUR.

@3Pin@1. What a state she keeps! how far off they sit from her!
How rich she is I ay, marry, this shows bravely!
@3Bel@1. She is a lusty wench, and may allure a good man;
But, if she have a tongue, I'll not give two-pence for her.
There sits my Fury; how I shake to see her!
@3Y. Man@1. Madam, this is the gentleman.
@3Mir@1. How sweet she kisses!
[MIRABEL @3salutes@1 ORIANA
She has a spring dwells on her lips, a paradise!
This is the legacy.

@3Song by the@1 Boy, @3while he presents a casket to@1 MIRABEL.

From the honoured dead I bring
Thus his love and last offering.
Take it nobly, 'tis your due,
From a friendship ever true;
From a faith, &c.

@3Ori@1. Most noble sir,
This from my now-dead brother, as his love,
And grateful memory of your great benefit;
From me my thanks, my wishes, and my service.
Till I am more acquainted, I am silent;
Only I dare say this,—you are truly noble.
@3Mir@1. What should I think?
@3Pin@1. Think you have a handsome fortune:
Would I had such another!
@3Ros@1. Ye are well met, gentlemen;
We hear ye are for travel.
@3Pin@1. You hear true, lady;
And come to take our leaves.
@3Lil@1. We'll along with ye:
We see you are grown so witty by your journey,
We cannot choose but step out too: this lady
We mean to wait upon as far as Italy.
@3Bel@1. I'll travel into Wales, amongst the mountains,
In hope they cannot find me.
@3Ros@1. If you go further,
So good and free society we hold ye,
We'll jog along too.
@3Pin@1. Are you so valiant, lady?
@3Lil@1. And we'll be merry, sir, and laugh.
@3Pin@1. It may be
We'll go by sea.
@3Lil@1. Why, 'tis the only voyage:
I love a sea-voyage, and a blustering tempest;
And let all split!
@3Pin@1. This is a dainty damosel!—
I think 'twill tame you. Can you ride post?
@3Lil@1. Oh, excellently ! I am never weary that way:
A hundred mile a-day is nothing with me.
@3Bel@1. I'll travel under ground. Do you hear, sweet lady?
I find it will be dangerous for a woman.
@3Ros@1. No danger, sir, I warrant; I love to be under.
@3Bel@1. I see she will abuse me all the world over.—
But say we pass through Germany, and drink hard?
@3Ros@1. We'll learn to drink, and swagger too.
@3Bel@1. She'll beat me!—
Lady, I'll live at home.
@3Ros@1. And I'll live with thee;
And we'll keep house together.
@3Bel@1. I'll keep hounds first:
And those I hate right heartily.
@3Pin@1. I go for Turkey;
And so, it may be, up into Persia.
@3Lil@1. We cannot know too much; I'll travel with you.
@3Pin@1. And you'll abuse me?
@3Lil@1. Like enough.
@3Pin@1. 'Tis dainty!
@3Bel@1. I will live in a bawdy-house.
@3Ros@1. I dare come to you.
@3Bel@1. Say I am disposed to hang myself?
@3Ros@1. There I'll leave you.
@3Bel@1. I am glad I know how to avoid you.
@3Mir@1. May I speak yet?
@3Y. Man@1. She beckons to you,
@3Mir@1. Lady, I could wish I knew to recompense,
Even with the service of my life, those pains,
And those high favours you have thrown upon me:
Till I be more desertful in your eye,
And till my duty shall make known I honour you,
Noblest of women, do me but this favour,
To accept this back again, as a poor testimony.
[@3Offering the casket.
Ori@1. I must have you too with 'em; else the will,
That says they must rest with you, is infringed, sir;
Which, pardon me, I dare not do.
@3Mir@1. Take me then,
And take me with the truest love.
@3Ori@1. 'Tis certain
My brother loved you dearly, and I ought
As dearly to preserve that love: but, sir,
Though I were willing, these are but your ceremonies.
@3Mir@1. As I have life, I speak my soul!
@3Ori@1. I like you:
But how you can like me, without I have testimony,
A stranger to you_____
@3Mir@1. I'll marry you immediately;
A fair state I dare promise you.
@3Bel@1. Yet she'll cozen thee.
@3Ori@1. Would some fair gentleman durst promise for you!
@3Mir@1. By all that's good_____

@3Enter@1 LA CASTRE, NANTOLET, LUGIER, @3and@1 DE GARD.

LA CAST., NANT., &c., And we'll make up the rest, lady.
@3Ori@1. Then Oriana takes you; nay, she has caught you:
If you start now, let all the world cry shame on you!
I have out-travelled you.
@3Bel@1. Did not I say she would cheat thee?
@3Mir@1. I thank you: I am pleased you have deceived me,
And willingly I swallow it, and joy in't;
And yet, perhaps, I knew you. Whose plot was this?
@3Lug@1. He is not ashamed that cast it: he that executed,
Followed your father's will.
@3Mir@1. What a world's this!
Nothing but craft and cozenage!
@3Ori@1. Who begun, sir?
@3Mir@1. Well; I do take thee upon mere compassion;
And I do think I shall love thee: as a testimony,
I'll burn my book, and turn a new leaf over.
But these fine clothes you shall wear still.
@3Ori@1. I obey you, sir, in all.
@3Nant@1. And how, how, daughters? what say you to these gentlemen?—
What say ye, gentlemen, to the girls?
@3Pin@1. By my troth—if she can love me
@3Lil@1. How long?
@3Pin@1. Nay, if once you love_____
@3Lil@1. Then take me,
And take your chance.
@3Pin@1. Most willingly: you are mine, lady;
And, if I use you not, that you may love me_____
@3Lil@1. A match, i' faith.
@3Pin@1. Why, now you travel with me.
@3Ros@1. How that thing stands!
@3Bel@1. It will, if you urge it:
Bless your five wits!
@3Ros@1. Nay, prithee, stay; I'll have thee.
@3Bel@1. You must ask me leave first.
@3Ros@1. Wilt thou use me kindly,
And beat me but once a week?
@3Bel@1. If you deserve no more.
@3Ros@1. And wilt thou get me with child!
@3Bel@1. Dost thou ask me seriously?
@3Ros@1. Yes, indeed do I.
@3Bel@1. Yes, I will get thee with child: come, presently,
An't be but in revenge, I'll do thee that courtesy,
Will, if thou wilt fear God and me, have at thee!
@3Ros@1. I'll love you, and I'll honour you.
@3Bel@1. I am pleased, then.
@3Mir@1. This wild-goose-chase is done; we have won o' both sides.
Brother, your love: and now to church of all hands:
Let's lose no time.
@3Pin@1. Our travelling lay by.
@3Bel@1. No more for Italy; for the Low Countries, I.
[@3Exeunt@1.

^FOOTNOTES^

^1^ Amber was considered to be a strong provocative.—@3Weber@1.

^2^ Countenance

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