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The Scornful Lady by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher

Part 2 out of 3

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_Captain._ It shall goe round boy.

_Young Lo._ Say you can suffer this, because the end points at much
profit, can you so far bow below your blood, below your too much beautie,
to be a partner of this fellowes bed, and lie with his diseases? if you
can, I will no[t] press you further: yet look upon him: there's nothing in
that hide-bound Usurer, that man of mat, that all decai'd, but aches, for
you to love, unless his perisht lungs, his drie cough, or his scurvie.
This is truth, and so far I dare speak yet: he has yet past cure of
Physick, spaw, or any diet, a primitive pox in his bones; and o' my
Knowledge he has been ten times rowell'd: ye may love him; he had a
bastard, his own toward issue, whipt, and then cropt for washing out the
roses, in three farthings to make 'em pence.

_Widow._ I do not like these Morals.

_Young Lo._ You must not like him then.

_Enter_ Elder Love.

_Elder Lo._ By your leave Gentlemen?

_Young Lo._ By my troth sir you are welcom, welcom faith: Lord what a
stranger you are grown; pray know this Gentlewoman, and if you please
these friends here: we are merry, you see the worst on't; your house has
been kept warm Sir.

_Elder Lo._ I am glad to hear it Brother, pray God you are wise too.

_Young Lo._ Pray Mr. _Morecraft_ know my elder Brother, and Captain do you
complement. _Savil_ I dare swear is glad at heart to see you; Lord, we
heard Sir you were drown'd at Sea, and see how luckily things come about!

_More._ This mony must be paid again Sir.

_Young Lo._ No Sir, pray keep the Sale, 'twill make good Tailors measures;
I am well I thank you.

_Wid._ By my troth the Gentleman has stew'd him in his own Sawce, I shall
love him for't.

_Sav._ I know not where I am, I am so glad: your worship is the welcom'st
man alive; upon my knees I bid you welcome home: here has been such a
hurry, such a din, such dismal Drinking, Swearing and Whoring, 'thas
almost made me mad: we have all liv'd in a continual _Turnbal-street_;
Sir, blest be Heaven, that sent you safe again, now shall I eat and go to
bed again.

_Elder Lo._ Brother dismiss these people.

_Young Lo._ Captain be gone a while, meet me at my old _Randevouse_ in the
evening, take your small Poet with you. Mr. _Morecraft_ you were best go
prattle with your learned Counsel, I shall preserve your mony, I was
couzen'd when time was, we are quit Sir.

_Wid._ Better and better still.

_Elder Lo._ What is this fellow, Brother?

_Young Lo._ The thirsty Usurer that supt my Land off.

_Elder Lo._ What does he tarry for?

_Young Lo._ Sir to be Landlord of your House and State: I was bold to make
a little sale Sir.

_More._ Am I overreach'd? if there be Law I'le hamper ye.

_Elder Lo._ Prethee be gone, and rave at home, thou art so base a fool I
cannot laugh at thee: Sirrah, this comes of couzening, home and spare, eat
Reddish till you raise your sums again. If you stir far in this, I'le have
you whipt, your ears nail'd for intelligencing o'the Pillory, and your
goods forfeit: you are a stale couzener, leave my house: no more.

_More._ A pox upon your house. Come Widow, I shall yet hamper this young

_Wid._ Good twelve i'th' hundred keep your way, I am not for your diet,
marry in your own Tribe _Jew_, and get a Broker.

_Young Lo._ 'Tis well said Widow: will you jog on Sir?

_More._ Yes, I will go, but 'tis no matter whither:
But when I trust a wild Fool, and a Woman,
May I lend Gratis, and build Hospitals.

_Young Lo._ Nay good Sir, make all even, here's a Widow wants your good
word for me, she's rich, and may renew me and my fortunes.

_Elder Lo._ I am glad you look before you. Gentlewoman, here is a poor
distressed younger Brother.

_Wid._ You do him wrong Sir, he's a Knight.

_Elder Lo._ I ask you mercy: yet 'tis no matter, his Knighthood is no
inheritance I take it: whatsoever he is, he is your Servant, or would be,
Lady. Faith be not merciless, but make a man; he's young and handsome,
though he be my Brother, and his observances may deserve your Love: he
shall not fail for means.

_Wid._ Sir you speak like a worthy Brother: and so much I do credit your
fair Language, that I shall love your Brother: and so love him, but I
shall blush to say more.

_Elder Lo._ Stop her mouth. I hope you shall not live to know that hour
when this shall be repented. Now Brother I should chide, but I'le give no
distaste to your fair Mistress. I will instruct her in't and she shall
do't: you have been wild and ignorant, pray mend it.

_Young Lo._ Sir, every day now Spring comes on.

_Elder Lo._ To you good Mr. _Savil_ and your Office, thus much I have to
say: Y'are from my Steward become, first your own Drunkard, then his Bawd:
they say y'are excellent grown in both, and perfect: give me your keys Sir

_Savil._ Good Sir consider whom you left me to.

_Elder Lo._ I left you as a curb for, not to provoke my Brothers follies:
where's the best drink, now? come, tell me _Savil_; where's the soundest
Whores? Ye old he Goat, ye dried Ape, ye lame Stallion, must you be
leading in my house your Whores, like Fairies dance their night rounds,
without fear either of King or Constable, within my walls? Are all my
Hangings safe; my Sheep unfold yet? I hope my Plate is currant, I ha' too
much on't. What say you to 300 pounds in drink now?

_Sav._ Good Sir forgive me, and but hear me speak?

_Elder Lo._ Me thinks thou shouldst be drunk still, and not speak, 'tis
the more pardonable.

_Sav._ I will Sir, if you will have it so.

_Elder Lo._ I thank ye: yes, e'ne pursue it Sir: do you hear? get a Whore
soon for your recreation: go look out Captain _Broken-breech_ your fellow,
and Quarrel if you dare: I shall deliver these Keys to one shall have more
honesty, though not so much fine wit Sir. You may walk and gather
_Cresses_ fit to cool your Liver; there's something for you to begin a
Diet, you'l have the Pox else. Speed you well, Sir _Savil_: you may eat at
my house to preserve life; but keep no Fornication in the Stables.
[_Ex. om. pr._ Savil.

_Sav._ Now must I hang my self, my friends will look for't.
Eating and sleeping, I do despise you both now:
I will run mad first, and if that get not pitty,
I'le drown my self, to a most dismal ditty. [_Exit_ Savil.

_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._

_Enter_ Abigal _sola._

_Abigal._ Alas poor Gentlewoman, to what a misery hath Age brought thee:
to what a scurvy Fortune! Thou that hast been a Companion for Noblemen,
and at the worst of those times for Gentlemen: now like a broken
Servingman, must beg for favour to those, that would have crawl'd like
Pilgrims to my Chamber but for an Apparition of me. You that be coming on,
make much of fifteen, and so till five and twenty: use your time with
reverence, that your profits may arise: it will not tarry with you, _Ecce
signum_: here was a face, but time that like a surfeit eats our youth,
plague of his iron teeth, and draw 'em for't, has been a little bolder
here than welcome: and now to say the truth, I am fit for no man. Old men
i'th' house of fifty, call me Granum; and when they are drunk, e'ne then,
when _Jone_ and my Lady are all one, not one will do me reason. My little
Levite hath forsaken me, his silver sound of Cittern quite abolish[t],
[h]is doleful _hymns_ under my Chamber window, digested into tedious
learning: well fool, you leapt a Haddock when you left him: he's a clean
man, and a good edifier, and twenty nobles is his state _de claro_,
besides his pigs in _posse_. To this good _Homilist_ I have been ever
stubborn, which God forgive me for, and mend my manners: and Love, if ever
thou hadst care of forty, of such a piece of lape ground, hear my prayer,
and fire his zeal so far forth that my faults in this renued impression of
my love may shew corrected to our gentle reader.

_Enter_ Roger.

See how negligently he passes by me: with what an Equipage Canonical, as
though he had broken the heart of _Bellarmine_, or added something to the
singing Brethren. 'Tis scorn, I know it, and deserve it, Mr. _Roger_.

_Rog._ Fair Gentlewoman, my name is _Roger_.

_Abig_. Then gentle _Roger_?

_Rog_. Ungentle _Abigal_.

_Abig_. Why M'r _Roger_ will you set your wit to a weak womans?

_Rog_. You are weak indeed: for so the Poet sings.

_Abig_. I do confess my weakness, sweet Sir _Roger_.

_Rog_. Good my Ladies Gentlewoman, or my good Ladies Gentlewoman (this
trope is lost to you now) leave your prating, you have a season of your
first mother in ye: and surely had the Devil been in love, he had been
abused too: go _Dalilah_, you make men fools, and wear Fig-breeches.

_Abi_. Well, well, hard hearted man; dilate upon the weak infirmities of
women: these are fit texts, but once there was a time, would I had never
seen those eyes, those eyes, those orient eyes.

_Rog_. I they were pearls once with you.

_Abi_. Saving your reverence Sir, so they are still.

_Rog_. Nay, nay, I do beseech you leave your cogging, what they are, they
are, they serve me without Spectacles I thank 'em.

_Abig_. O will you kill me?

_Rog_. I do not think I can,
Y'are like a Copy-hold with nine lives in't.

_Abig_. You were wont to bear a Christian fear about you:
For your own worships sake.

_Rog_. I was a Christian fool then: Do you remember what a dance you led
me? how I grew qualm'd in love, and was a dunce? could expound but once a
quarter, and then was out too: and then out of the stinking stir you put
me in, I prayed for my own issue. You do remember all this?

_Abig_. O be as then you were!

_Rog_. I thank you for it, surely I will be wiser _Abigal_: and as the
Ethnick Poet sings, I will not lose my oyl and labour too. Y'are for the
worshipfull I take it _Abigal_.

_Abig_. O take it so, and then I am for thee!

_Rog_. I like these tears well, and this humbling also, they are Symptomes
of contrition. If I should fall into my fit again, would you not shake me
into a quotidian Coxcombe? Would you not use me scurvily again, and give
me possets with purging Confets in't? I tell thee Gentlewoman, thou hast
been harder to me, than a long pedigree.

_Abig_. O Curate cure me: I will love thee better, dearer, longer: I will
do any thing, betray the secrets of the main house-hold to thy
reformation. My Ladie shall look lovingly on thy learning, and when true
time shall point thee for a Parson, I will convert thy egges to penny
custards, and thy tith goose shall graze and multiply.

_Rog_. I am mollified, as well shall testifie this faithfull kiss, and
have a great care Mistris _Abigal_ how you depress the Spirit any more
with your rebukes and mocks: for certainly the edge of such a follie cuts
it self.

_Abigal_. O Sir, you have pierc'd me thorow. Here I vow a recantation to
those malicious faults I ever did against you. Never more will I despise
your learning, never more pin cards and cony tails upon your Cassock,
never again reproach your reverend nightcap, and call it by the mangie
name of murrin, never your reverend person more, and say, you look like
one of _Baals_ Priests in a hanging, never again when you say grace laugh
at you, nor put you out at prayers: never cramp you more, nor when you
ride, get Sope and Thistles for you. No my _Roger_, these faults shall be
corrected and amended, as by the tenour of my tears appears.

_Rog_. Now cannot I hold if I should be hang'd, I must crie too. Come to
thine own beloved, and do even what thou wilt with me sweet, sweet
_Abigal_. I am thine own for ever: here's my hand, when _Roger_ proves a
recreant, hang him i'th' Bel-ropes.

_Enter_ Lady, _and_ Martha.

_Lady_. Why how now Master _Roger_, no prayers down with you to night? Did
you hear the bell ring? You are courting: your flock shall fat well for

_Rog_. I humbly ask your pardon: I'le clap up Prayers, but stay a little,
and be with you again. [_Exit_ Roger.

_Enter_ Elder Love.

_Lady_. How dare you, being so unworthie a fellow,
Presume to come to move me any more?

_Elder Lo_. Ha, ha, ha.

_Lady_. What ails the fellow?

_Elder Lo_. The fellow comes to laugh at you, I tell you Ladie I would not
for your Land, be such a Coxcomb, such a whining Ass, as you decreed me
for when I was last here.

_Lady_. I joy to hear you are wise, 'tis a rare Jewel
In an Elder Brother: pray be wiser yet.

_Elder Lo._ Me thinks I am very wise: I do not come a wooing. Indeed I'le
move no more love to your Ladiship.

_Lady_. What makes you here then?

_Elder Lo_. Only to see you and be merry Ladie: that's all my business.
Faith let's be very merry. Where's little _Roger_? he's a good fellow: an
hour or two well spent in wholesome mirth, is worth a thousand of these
puling passions. 'Tis an ill world for Lovers.

_Lady_. They were never fewer.

_Elder Lo_. I thank God there's one less for me Ladie.

_Lady_. You were never any Sir.

_Elder Lo_. Till now, and now I am the prettiest fellow.

_Lady_. You talk like a Tailor Sir.

_Elder Lo_. Me thinks your faces are no such fine things now.

_Lady_. Why did you tell me you were wise? Lord what a lying age is this,
where will you mend these faces?

_Elder Lo_. A Hogs face soust is worth a hundred of 'em.

_Lady_. Sure you had a Sow to your Mother.

_Elder Lo_. She brought such fine white Pigs as you, fit for none but
Parsons Ladie.

_Lady_. 'Tis well you will allow us our Clergie yet.

_Elder Lo_. That shall not save you. O that I were in love again with a

_Lady_. By this light you are a scurvie fellow, pray be gone.

_Elder Lo_. You know I am a clean skin'd man.

_Lady_. Do I know it?

_Elder Lo_. Come, come, you would know it; that's as good: but not a snap,
never long for't, not a snap dear Ladie.

_Lady_. Hark ye Sir, hark ye, get ye to the Suburbs, there's horse flesh
for such hounds: will you goe Sir?

_Elder Lo_. Lord how I lov'd this woman, how I worshipt this prettie calf
with the white face here: as I live, you were the prettiest fool to play
withall, the wittiest little varlet, it would talk: Lord how it talk't!
and when I angred it, it would cry out, and scratch, and eat no meat, and
it would say, goe hang.

_Lady_. It will say so still, if you anger it.

_Elder Lo_. And when I askt it, if it would be married, it sent me of an
errand into _France_, and would abuse me, and be glad it did so.

_Lady_. Sir this is most unmanly, pray by gon.

_Elder Lo_. And swear (even when it twitter'd to be at me) I was

_Lady_. Have you no manners in you?

_Elder Lo_. And say my back was melted, when God he knows, I kept it at a
charge: Four _Flaunders_ Mares would have been easier to me, and a Fencer.

_Lady_. You think all this is true now?

_Elder Lo_. Faith whether it be or no, 'tis too good for you. But so much
for our mirth: Now have at you in earnest.

_L[a]_. There is enough Sir, I desire no more.

_El. Lo_. Yes faith, wee'l have a cast at your best parts now. And then
the Devil take the worst.

_Lady_. Pray Sir no more, I am not so much affected with your
commendations, 'tis almost dinner, I know they stay for you at the

_Elder Lo_. E'ne a short Grace, and then I am gone; You are a woman, and
the proudest that ever lov'd a Coach: the scornfullest, scurviest, and
most senceless woman; the greediest to be prais'd, and never mov'd though
it be gross and open; the most envious, that at the poor fame of anothers
face, would eat your own, and more than is your own, the paint belonging
to it: of such a self opinion, that you think none can deserve your glove:
and for your malice, you are so excellent, you might have been your
Tempters tutor: nay, never cry.

_Lady_. Your own heart knows you wrong me: I cry for ye?

_Elder Lo_. You shall before I leave you.

_Lady_. Is all this spoke in earnest?

_Elder Lo_. Yes and more as soon as I can get it out.

_Lady_. Well out with't.

_Elder Lo_. You are, let me see.

_Lady_. One that has us'd you with too much respect.

_Elder Lo_. One that hath us'd me (since you will have it so) the basest,
the most Foot-boy-like, without respect of what I was, or what you might
be by me; you have us'd me, as I would use a jade, ride him off's legs,
then turn him to the Commons; you have us'd me with discretion, and I
thank ye. If you have many more such pretty Servants, pray build an
Hospital, and when they are old, pray keep 'em for shame.

_Lady_. I cannot think yet this is serious.

_Elder Lo_. Will you have more on't?

_Lady_. No faith, there's enough if it be true:
Too much by all my part; you are no Lover then?

_Elder Lo_. No, I had rather be a Carrier.

_Lady_. Why the Gods amend all.

_Elder Lo_. Neither do I think there can be such a fellow found i'th'
world, to be in love with such a froward woman, if there be such, they're
mad, _Jove_ comfort 'em. Now you have all, and I as new a man, as light,
and spirited, that I feel my self clean through another creature. O 'tis
brave to be ones own man, I can see you now as I would see a Picture, sit
all day by you and never kiss your hand: hear you sing, and never fall
backward: but with as set a temper, as I would hear a Fidler, rise and
thank you. I can now keep my mony in my purse, that still was gadding out
for Scarfes and Wastcoats: and keep my hand from Mercers sheep-skins
finely. I can eat mutton now, and feast my self with my two shillings, and
can see a play for eighteen pence again: I can my Ladie.

_Lady_. The carriage of this fellow vexes me. Sir, pray let me speak a
little private with you, I must not suffer this.

_Elder Lo_. Ha, ha, ha, what would you with me?
You will not ravish me? Now, your set speech?

_Lady_. Thou perjur'd man.

_Elder Lo_. Ha, ha, ha, this is a fine _exordium_.
And why I pray you perjur'd?

_Lady_. Did you not swear a thousand thousand times you lov'd me best of
all things?

_Elder Lo_. I do confess it: make your best of that.

_Lady_. Why do you say you do not then?

_Elder Lo_. Nay I'le swear it,
And give sufficient reason, your own usage.

_Lady_. Do you not love me then?

_Elder Lo_. No faith.

_Lady_. Did you ever think I lov'd you dearly?

_Elder Lo_. Yes, but I see but rotten fruits on't.

_Lady_. Do not denie your hand for I must kiss it, and take my last
farewell, now let me die so you be happy.

_El. Lo_. I am too foolish: Ladie speak dear Ladie.

_Lady_. No let me die. _She swounds._

_Mar_. Oh my Sister!

_Abi_. O my Ladie help, help.

_Mar_. Run for some _Rosalis_!

_Elder Lo_. I have plaid the fine ass: bend her bodie, Lady, best,
dearest, worthiest Lady, hear your Servant, I am not as I shew'd: O
wretched fool, to fling away the Jewel of thy life thus. Give her more
air, see she begins to stir, sweet Mistress hear me!

_Lady_. Is my Servant well?

_Elder Lo_. In being yours I am so.

_Lady_. Then I care not.

_Elder Lo_. How do ye, reach a chair there; I confess my fault not
pardonable, in pursuing thus upon such tenderness my wilfull error; but
had I known it would have wrought thus with ye, thus strangely, not the
world had won me to it, and let not (my best Ladie) any word spoke to my
end disturb your quiet peace: for sooner shall you know a general ruine,
than my faith broken. Do not doubt this Mistris, for by my life I cannot
live without you. Come, come, you shall not grieve, rather be angrie, and
heap infliction upon me: I will suffer. O I could curse my self, pray
smile upon me. Upon my faith it was but a trick to trie you, knowing you
lov'd me dearlie, and yet strangely that you would never shew it, though
my means was all humilitie.

_All_. Ha, ha.

_Elder Lo_. How now?

_Lady_. I thank you fine fool for your most fine plot; this was a subtile
one, a stiff device to have caught Dottrels with. Good senceless Sir,
could you imagine I should swound for you, and know your self to be an
arrant ass? I, a discovered one. 'Tis quit I thank you Sir. Ha, ha, ha.

_Mar_. Take heed Sir, she may chance to swound again.

_All_. Ha, ha, ha.

_Abi_. Step to her Sir, see how she changes colour.

_Elder Lo_. I'le goe to hell first, and be better welcom.
I am fool'd, I do confess it, finely fool'd,
Ladie, fool'd Madam, and I thank you for it.

_Lady_. Faith 'tis not so much worth Sir:
But if I knew when you come next a burding,
I'le have a stronger noose to hold the Woodcock.

_All_. Ha, ha, ha.

_Elder Lo_. I am glad to see you merry, pray laugh on.

_Mar_. H'ad a hard heart that could not laugh at you Sir, ha, ha, ha.

_Lady_. Pray Sister do not laugh, you'le anger him,
And then hee'l rail like a rude Costermonger,
That School-boys had couzened of his Apples,
As loud and senceless.

_Elder Lo_. I will not rail.

_Mar_. Faith then let's hear him Sister.

_Elder Lo_. Yes, you shall hear me.

_Lady_. Shall we be the better by it then?

_Eld. L_. No, he that makes a woman better by his words,
I'le have him Sainted: blows will not doe it.

_Lady_. By this light hee'll beat us.

_Elder Lo_. You do deserve it richly,
And may live to have a Beadle doe it.

_Lady_. Now he rails.

_Elder Lo_. Come scornfull Folly,
If this be railing, you shall hear me rail.

_Lady_. Pray put it in good words then.

_Elder Lo_. The worst are good enough for such a trifle,
Such a proud piece of Cobweblawn.

_Lady_. You bite Sir?

_Elder Lo_. I would till the bones crackt, and I had my will.

_Mar_. We had best muzzel him, he grows mad.

_Elder Lo_. I would 'twere lawfull in the next great sickness to have the
Dogs spared, those harmless creatures, and knock i'th' head these hot
continual plagues, women, that are more infectious. I hope the State will
think on't.

_Lady_. Are you well Sir?

_Mar_. He looks as though he had a grievous fit o'th' Colick.

_Elder Lo_. Green-ginger will cure me.

_Abig_. I'le heat a trencher for him.

_Elder Lo_. Durty _December_ doe, Thou with a face as old as _Erra Pater_,
such a Prognosticating nose: thou thing that ten years since has left to
be a woman, outworn the expectation of a Baud; and thy dry bones can reach
at nothing now, but gords or ninepins, pray goe fetch a trencher goe.

_Lady_. Let him alone, he's crack't.

_Abig_. I'le see him hang'd first, is a beastly fellow to use a woman of
my breeding thus; I marry is he: would I were a man, I'de make him eat his
Knaves words!

_Elder Lo_. Tie your she Otter up, good Lady folly, she stinks worse than
a Bear-baiting.

_Lady_. Why will you be angry now?

_Elder Lo_. Goe paint and purge, call in your kennel with you: you a Lady?

_Abi_. Sirra, look to't against the quarter Sessions, if there be good
behaviour in the world, I'le have thee bound to it.

_Elder Lo_. You must not seek it in your Ladies house then; pray send this
Ferret home, and spin good _Abigal_. And Madam, that your Ladiship may
know, in what base manner you have us'd my service, I do from this hour
hate thee heartily; and though your folly should whip you to repentance,
and waken you at length to see my wrongs, 'tis not the endeavour of your
life shall win me; not all the friends you have, intercession, nor your
submissive letters, though they spoke as many tears as words; not your
knees grown to th' ground in penitence, nor all your state, to kiss you;
nor my pardon, nor will to give you Christian burial, if you dye thus; so
farewell. When I am married and made sure, I'le come and visit you again,
and vex you Ladie. By all my hopes I'le be a torment to you, worse than a
tedious winter. I know you will recant and sue to me, but save that
labour: I'le rather love a fever and continual thirst, rather contract my
youth to drink and sacerdote upon quarrels, or take a drawn whore from an
Hospital, that time, diseases, and _Mercury_ had eaten, than to be drawn
to love you.

_Lady_. Ha, ha, ha, pray do, but take heed though.

_Elder Lo_. From thee, false dice, jades, Cowards, and plaguy Summers,
good Lord deliver me. [_Exit_ Elder Love.

_Lady_. But hark you Servant, hark ye: is he gon? call him again.

_Abigal_. Hang him Paddock.

_Lady_. Art thou here still? flie, flie, and call my Servant, flie or ne'r
see me more.

_Abigal_. I had rather knit again than see that rascall, but I must doe
it. [_Exit_ Abigal.

_Lady_. I would be loth to anger him too much; what fine foolery is this
in a woman, to use those men most forwardly they love most? If I should
lose him thus, I were rightly served. I hope he's not so much himself, to
take it to th'heart: how now? will he come back?

_Enter_ Abigal.

_Abig_. Never, he swears, whilst he can hear men say there's any woman
living: he swore he would ha' me first.

_Lady_. Didst thou intreat him wench?

_Abigal_. As well as I could Madam. But this is still your way, to love
being absent, and when he's with you, laugh at him and abuse him. There's
another way if you could hit on't.

_Lady_. Thou saist true, get me paper, pen and ink, I'le write to him,
I'de be loth he should sleep in's anger. Women are most fools when they
think th'are wisest.
[_Ex. Omnes._

_Musick. Enter_ Young Loveless, _and_ Widow, _going to be Married, with
them his_ Comrades.

_Widow_. Pray Sir cast off these fellows, as unfitting for your bare
knowledge, and far more your companie: is't fit such Ragamuffins as these
are should bear the name of friends? and furnish out a civil house? ye're
to be married now, and men that love you must expect a course far from
your old carrier: if you will keep 'em, turn 'em to th' stable, and there
make 'em grooms: and yet now consider it, such beggars once set o' horse
back, you have heard will ride, how far you had best to look.

_Captain_. Hear you, you that must be Ladie, pray content your self and
think upon your carriage soon at night, what dressing will best take your
Knight, what wastcote, what cordial will do well i'th' morning for him,
what triers have you?

_Widow_. What do you mean Sir?

_Capt_. Those that must switch him up: if he start well, fear not but cry
Saint _George_, and bear him hard: when you perceive his wind growes hot
and wanting, let him a little down, he's fleet, ne're doubt him, and
stands sound.

_Widow_. Sir, you hear these fellows?

_Young Love_. Merrie companions, wench, Merry companions.

_Widow_. To one another let 'em be companions, but good Sir not to you:
you shall be civil and slip off these base trappings.

_Cap_. He shall not need, my most swee[t] Ladie Grocer, if he be civil,
not your powdered Sugar, nor your Raisins shall perswade the Captain to
live a Coxcomb with him; let him be civil and eat i'th' _Arches_, and see
what will come on't.

_Poet_. Let him be civil, doe: undo him; I, that's the next way. I will
not take (if he be civil once) two hundred pound a year to live with him;
be civil? there's a trim perswasion.

_Capt_. If thou beest civil Knight, as _Jove_ defends it, get thee another
nose, that will be pull'd off by the angry boyes for thy conversion: the
children thou shalt get on this Civillian cannot inherit by the law,
th'are _Ethnicks_, and all thy sport meer Moral leacherie: when they are
grown, having but little in 'em, they may prove Haberdashers, or gross
Grocers, like their dear Damm there: prethee be civil Knight, in time thou
maist read to thy houshold, and be drunk once a year: this would shew

_Young Lo_. I wonder sweet heart you will offer this, you do not
understand these Gentlemen: I will be short and pithy: I had rather cast
you off by the way of charge: these are Creatures, that nothing goes to
the maintenance of but Corn and Water. I will keep these fellows just in
the competencie of two Hens.

_Wid_. If you can cast it so Sir, you have my liking. If they eat less, I
should not be offended: But how these Sir, can live upon so little as Corn
and Water, I am unbelieving.

_Young Lo_. Why prethee sweet heart what's your Ale? is not that Corn and
Water, my sweet Widow?

_Wid_. I but my sweet Knight where's the meat to this, and cloaths that
they must look for?

_Young Lo_. In this short sentence Ale, is all included: Meat, Drink, and
Cloth; These are no ravening Footmen, no fellows, that at Ordinaries dare
eat their eighteen pence thrice out before they rise, and yet goe hungry
to play, and crack more nuts than would suffice a dozen Squirrels; besides
the din, which is damnable: I had rather rail, and be confin'd to a
_Boatmaker_, than live amongst such rascals; these are people of such a
clean discretion in their diet, of such a moderate sustenance, that they
sweat if they but smell hot meat. _Porredge_ is poison, they hate a
Kitchin as they hate a Counter, and show 'em but a Feather-bed they
swound. Ale is their eating and their drinking surely, which keeps their
bodies clear, and soluble. Bread is a binder, and for that abolisht even
in their Ale, whose lost room fills an apple, which is more airy and of
subtiler nature. The rest they take is little, and that little is little
easie: For like strict men of order, they do correct their bodies with a
bench, or a poor stubborn table; if a chimny offer it self with some few
broken rushes, they are in down: when they are sick, that's drunk, they
may have fresh straw, else they do despise these worldly pamperings. For
their poor apparel, 'tis worn out to the diet; new they seek none, and if
a man should offer, they are angrie, scarce to be reconcil'd again with
him: you shall not hear 'em ask one a cast doublet once in a year, which
is modesty befitting my poor friends: you see their _Wardrobe_, though
slender, competent: For shirts I take it, they are things worn out of
their remembrance. Lousie they will be when they list, and _mangie_, which
shows a fine variety: and then to cure 'em, a _Tanners_ limepit, which is
little charge, two dogs, and these; these two may be cur'd for 3. pence.

_Wid_. You have half perswaded me, pray use your pleasure: and my good
friends since I do know your diet, I'le take an order, meat shall not
offend you, you shall have Ale.

_Capt_. We ask no more, let it be, mighty Lady: and if we perish, then our
own sins on us.

_Young Lo_. Come forward Gentlemen, to Church my boys,
when we have done, I'le give you cheer in bowles. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quintus. Scena Prima._

_Enter_ Elder Loveless.

_Elder Lo_. This senseless woman vexes me to th' heart, she will not from
my memory: would she were a man for one two hours, that I might beat her.
If I had been unhansome, old or jealous, 'thad been an even lay she might
have scorn'd me; but to be young, and by this light I think as proper as
the proudest; made as clean, as straight, and strong backt; means and
manners equal with the best cloth of silver Sir i'th' kingdom: But these
are things at some time of the Moon, below the cut of Canvas: sure she has
some Meeching Rascal in her house, some Hind, that she hath seen bear
(like another _Milo_) quarters of Malt upon his back, and sing with't,
Thrash all day, and i'th' evening in his stockings, strike up a Hornpipe,
and there stink two hours, and ne're a whit the worse man; these are they,
these steel chin'd Rascals that undo us all. Would I had been a Carter, or
a Coachman, I had done the deed e're this time.

_Enter_ Servant.

_Ser_. Sir, there's a Gentleman without would speak with you.

_Elder Lo_. Bid him come in.

_Enter_ Welford.

_Wel_. By your leave Sir.

_Elder Lo_. You are welcome, what's your will Sir?

_Wel_. Have you forgotten me?

_Elder Lo_. I do not much remember you.

_Wel_. You must Sir. I am that Gentleman you pleas'd to wrong, in your
disguise, I have inquired you out.

_Elder Lo_. I was disguised indeed Sir if I wrong'd you, pray where and

_Wel_. In such a Ladies house, I need not name her.

_Elder Lo_. I do remember you, you seem'd to be a Sutor to that Lady?

_Wel_. If you remember this, do not forget how scurvily you us'd me: that
was no place to quarrel in, pray you think of it; if you be honest you
dare fight with me, without more urging, else I must provoke ye.

_Elder Lo_. Sir I dare fight, but never for a woman, I will not have her
in my cause, she's mortal, and so is not my anger: if you have brought a
nobler subject for our Swords, I am for you; in this I would be loth to
prick my Finger. And where you say I wrong'd you, 'tis so far from my
profession, that amongst my fears, to do wrong is the greatest: credit me
we have been both abused, (not by our selves, for that I hold a spleen, no
sin of malice, and may with man enough be best forgoten,) but by that
willfull, scornful piece of hatred, that much forgetful Lady: for whose
sake, if we should leave our reason, and run on upon our sense, like
_Rams_, the little world of good men would laugh at us, and despise us,
fixing upon our desperate memories the never-worn out names of Fools and
Fencers. Sir 'tis not fear, but reason makes me tell you; in this I had
rather help you Sir, than hurt you, and you shall find it, though you
throw your self into as many dangers as she offers, though you redeem her
lost name every day, and find her out new honours with your Sword, you
shall but be her mirth as I have been.

_Wel_. I ask you mercy Sir, you have ta'ne my edge off: yet I would fain
be even with this Lady.

_Elder Lo_. In which I'le be your helper: we are two, and they are two:
two Sisters, rich alike, only the elder has the prouder Dowry: In troth I
pity this disgrace in you, yet of mine own I am senceless: do but follow
my Counsel, and I'le pawn my spirit, we'l overreach 'em yet; the means is

_Enter_ Servant.

_Ser_. Sir there's a Gentlewoma[n] will needs speak with you, I cannot
keep her out, she's entred Sir.

_Elder Lo_. It is the waiting woman, pray be not seen: sirrah hold her in
discourse a while: hark in your ear, go and dispatch it quickly, when I
come in, I'le tell you all the project.

_Wel_. I care not which I have. [_Exit_ Welford.

_Elder Lo_. Away, 'tis done, she must not see you: now Lady _Guiniver_
what news with you?

_Enter_ Abigal.

_Abig_. Pray leave these frumps Sir, and receive this letter.

_Elder Lo_. From whom good vanity?

_Abig_. 'Tis from my Lady Sir: Alas good soul, she cries and takes on!

_Elder Lo_. Do's she so good Soul? wou'd she not have a Cawdle? do's she
send you with your fine Oratory goody _Tully_ to tye me to believe again?
bring out the Cat-hounds, I'le make you take a tree Whore, then with my
tiller bring down your _Gibship_, and then have you cast, and hung up
i'th' Warren.

_Abig_. I am no beast Sir, would you knew it.

_Elder Lo_. Wou'd I did, for I am yet very doubtful; what will you say

_Abig_. Nothing not I.

_Elder Lo_. Art thou a woman, and say nothing?

_Abig_. Unless you'l hear me with more moderation, I can speak wise

_Elder Lo_. And loud enough? will your Lady love me?

_Abig_. It seems so by her letter, and her lamentations; but you are such
another man.

_Elder Lo_. Not such another as I was, Mumps; nor will not be: I'le read
her fine Epistle: ha, ha, ha, is not thy Mistress mad?

_Abig_. For you she will be, 'tis a shame you should use a poor
Gentlewoman so untowardly; she loves the ground you tread on; and you
(hard heart) because she jested with you, mean to kill her; 'tis a fine
conquest as they say.

_Elder Lo_. Hast thou so much moisture in the Whitleather hide yet, that
thou canst cry? I wou'd have sworn thou hadst been touchwood five year
since; nay let it rain, thy face chops for a shower like a dry Dunghil.

_Abig_. I'le not indure this Ribauldry; farewel i'th' Devils name; if my
Lady die, I'le be sworn before a Jury, thou art the cause on't.

_Elder Lo_. Do Maukin do, deliver to your Lady from me this: I mean to see
her, if I have no other business: which before I'le want to come to her, I
mean to go seek birds nests: yet I may come too: but if I come, from this
door till I see her, will I think how to rail vildly at her; how to vex
her, and make her cry so much, that the Physician if she fall sick upon't,
shall find the cause to be want of Urine, and she remediless dye in her
Heresie: Farewell old Adage, I hope to see the Boys make Potguns on thee.

_Abig_. Th'art a vile man, God bless my issue from thee.

_Elder Lo_. Thou hast but one, and that's in thy left crupper, that makes
thee hobble so; you must be ground i'th' breach like a Top, you'I ne're
spin well else: Farewell Fytchock. [_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ Lady _alone_.

_Lady_. Is it not strange that every womans will should track out new
wayes to disturb her self? if I should call my reason to account, it
cannot answer why I keep my self from mine own wish, and stop the man I
love from his; and every hour repent again, yet still go on: I know 'tis
like a man, that wants his natural sleep, and growing dull would gladly
give the remnant of his life for two hours rest; yet through his
frowardness, will rather choose to watch another man, drowsie as he, than
take his own repose. All this I know: yet a strange peevishness and anger,
not to have the power to do things unexpected, carries me away to mine own
ruine: I had rather die sometimes than not disgrace in public him whom
people think I love, and do't with oaths, and am in earnest then: O what
are we! Men, you must answer this, that dare obey such things as we
command. How now? what newes?

_Enter_ Abigal.

_Abi_. Faith Madam none worth hearing.

_Lady_. Is he not come?

_Abi_. No truly.

_Lady_. Nor has he writ?

_Abigal_. Neither. I pray God you have not undone your self.

_Lady_. Why, but what saies he?

_Abi_. Faith he talks strangely.

_Lady_. How strangely?

_Abi_. First at your Letter he laught extremely.

_Lady_. What, in contempt?

_Abi._ He laught monstrous loud, as he would die, and when you wrote it I
think you were in no such merry mood, to provoke him that way: and having
done he cried Alas for her, and violently laught again.

_Lady._ Did he?

_Abi._ Yes, till I was angry.

_Lady._ Angry, why? why wert thou angry? he did doe but well, I did
deserve it, he had been a fool, an unfit man for any one to love, had he
not laught thus at me: you were angry, that show'd your folly; I shall
love him more for that, than all that ere he did before: but said he
nothing else?

_Abi._ Many uncertain things: he said though you had mockt him, because
you were a woman, he could wish to do you so much favour as to see you:
yet he said, he knew you rash, and was loth to offend you with the sight
of one, whom now he was bound not to leave.

_Lady._ What one was that?

_Abi._ I know not, but truly I do fear there is a making up there: for I
heard the servants, as I past by some, whisper such a thing: and as I came
back through the hall, there were two or three Clarks writing great
conveyances in hast, which they said were for their Mistris joynture.

_Lady._ 'Tis very like, and fit it should be so, for he does think, and
reasonably think, that I should keep him with my idle tricks for ever ere
he be married.

_Abi._ At last he said, it should go hard but he would see you for your

_Lady._ All we that are called Women, know as well as men, it were a far
more noble thing to grace where we are grace't, and give respect there
where we are respected: yet we practise a wilder course, and never bend
our eyes on men with pleasure, till they find the way to give us a
neglect: then we, too late, perceive the loss of what we might have had,
and dote to death.

_Enter_ Martha.

_Mar._ Sister, yonder's your Servant, with a Gentlewoman with him.

_Lady._ Where?

_Mar._ Close at the door.

_Lady._ Alas I am undone, I fear he is be[t]roth'd,
What kind of woman is she?

_Mar._ A most ill favoured one, with her Masque on:
And how her face should mend the rest I know not.

_La._ But yet her mind was of a milder stuff than mine was.

_Enter_ Elder Loveless, _and_ Welford _in Womans apparel._

_Lady._ Now I see him, if my heart swell not again (away thou womans
pride) so that I cannot speak a gentle word to him, let me not live.

_Elder Lo._ By your leave here.

_Lady._ How now, what new trick invites you hither?
Ha'you a fine device again?

_Elder Lo._ Faith this is the finest device I have now:
How dost thou sweet heart?

_Wel._ Why very well, so long as I may please
You my dear Lover. I nor can, nor will
Be ill when you are well, well when you are ill.

_Elder Lo._ O thy sweet temper! what would I have given, that Lady had
been like thee: seest thou her? that face (my love) join'd with thy humble
mind, had made a wench indeed.

_Wel._ Alas my love, what God hath done, I dare not think to mend. I use
no paint, nor any drugs of Art, my hands and face will shew it.

_La._ Why what thing have you brought to shew us there? do you take mony
for it?

_Elder Lo._ A Godlike thing, not to be bought for mony: 'tis my Mistris:
in whom there is no passion, nor no scorn: what I will is for law; pray
you salute her.

_Lady._ Salute her? by this good light, I would not kiss her for half my

_Elder Lo._ Why? why pray you?
You shall see me do't afore you; look you.

_Lady._ Now fie upon thee, a beast would not have don't.
I would not kiss thee of a month to gain a Kingdom.

_Elder Lo._ Marry you shall not be troubled.

_Lady._ Why was there ever such a _Meg_ as this?
Sure thou art mad.

_Elder Lo._ I was mad once, when I lov'd pictures; for what are shape and
colours else, but pictures? in that tawnie hide there lies an endless mass
of vertues, when all your red and white ones want it.

_Lady._ And this is she you are to marry, is't not?

_Elder Lo._ Yes indeed is't.

_Lady._ God give you joy.

_Elder Lo._ Amen.

_Wel._ I thank yo[u], as unknown for your good wish.
The like to you when ever you shall wed.

_Elder Lo._ O gentle Spirit!

_Lady._ You thank me? I pray
Keep your breath nearer you, I do not like it.

_Wel._ I would not willingly offend at all,
Much less a Lady of your worthie parts.

_Elder Lo._ Sweet, Sweet!

_La._ I do not think this woman can by nature be thus,
Thus ugly; sure she's some common Strumpet,
Deform'd with exercise of sin?

_Wel._ O Sir believe not this, for Heaven so comfort me as I am free from
foul pollution with any man; my honour ta'ne away, I am no woman.

_Elder Lo._ Arise my dearest Soul; I do not credit it. Alas, I fear her
tender heart will break with this reproach; fie that you know no more
civility to a weak Virgin. 'Tis no matter Sweet, let her say what she
will, thou art not worse to me, and therefore not at all; be careless.

_Wel._ For all things else I would, but for mine honor; Me thinks.

_Elder Lo._ Alas, thine honour is not stain'd,
Is this the business that you sent for me about?

_Mar._ Faith Sister you are much to blame, to use a woman, whatsoe're she
be, thus; I'le salute her: You are welcome hither.

_Wel._ I humbly thank you.

_Elder Lo._ Milde yet as the Dove, for all these injuries. Come shall we
goe, I love thee not so ill to keep thee here a jesting stock. Adue to the
worlds end.

_Lady._ Why whither now?

_Elder Lo._ Nay you shall never know, because you shall not find me.

_Lady._ I pray let me speak with you.

_Elder Lo._ 'Tis very well: come.

_Lady._ I pray you let me speak with you.

_Elder Lo._ Yes for another mock.

_Lady._ By Heaven I have no mocks: good Sir a word.

_Elder Lo._ Though you deserve not so much at my hands, yet if you be in
such earnest, I'le speak a word with you; but I beseech you be brief: for
in good faith there's a Parson and a licence stay for us i'th' Church all
this while: and you know 'tis night.

_Lady._ Sir, give me hearing patiently, and whatsoever I have heretofore
spoke jestingly, forget: for as I hope for mercy any where, what I shall
utter now is from my heart, and as I mean.

_Elder Lo._ Well, well, what do you mean?

_Lady._ Was not I once your Mistress, and you my Servant?

_Elder Lo._ O 'tis about the old matter.

_Lady._ Nay good Sir stay me out; I would but hear you excuse your self,
why you should take this woman, and leave me.

_Elder Lo._ Prethee why not, deserves she not as much as you?

_Lady._ I think not, if you will look
With an indifferency upon us both.

_Elder Lo._ Upon your faces, 'tis true: but if judiciously we shall cast
our eyes upon your minds, you are a thousand women of her in worth: she
cannot swound in jest, nor set her lover tasks, to shew her peevishness,
and his affection, nor cross what he saies, though it be Canonical. She's
a good plain wench, that will do as I will have her, and bring me lusty
Boys to throw the Sledge, and lift at Pigs of Lead: and for a Wife, she's
far beyond you: what can you do in a houshold to provide for your issue,
but lye i' bed and get 'em? your business is to dress you, and at idle
hours to eat; when she can do a thousand profitable things: she can do
pretty well in the Pastry, and knows how Pullen should be cram'd, she cuts
Cambrick at a thread, weaves Bone-lace, and quilts Balls; and what are you
good for?

_Lady._ Admit it true, that she were far beyond me in all respects, does
that give you a licence to forswear your self?

_Elder Lo._ Forswear my self, how?

_Lady._ Perhaps you have forgotten the innumerable oaths you have utter'd
in disclaiming all for Wives but me: I'le not remember you: God give you

_Elder Lo._ Nay but conceive me, the intent of oaths is ever understood:
Admit I should protest to such a friend, to see him at his Lodging to
morrow: Divines would never hold me perjur'd if I were struck blind, or he
hid him where my diligent search could not find him: so there were no
cross act of mine own in't. Can it be imagined I mean to force you to
Marriage, and to have you whether you will or no?

_Lady._ Alas you need not. I make already tender of my self, and then you
are forsworn.

_Elder Lo._ Some sin I see indeed must necessarily fall upon me, as
whosoever deals with Women shall never utterly avoid it: yet I would chuse
the least ill; which is to forsake you, that have done me all the abuses
of a malignant Woman, contemn'd my service, and would have held me prating
about Marriage, till I had been past getting of Children: then her that
hath forsaken her Family, and put her tender body in my hand, upon my

_Lady._ Which of us swore you first to?

_Elder Lo._ Why to you.

_Lady._ Which oath is to be kept then?

_Elder Lo._ I prethee do not urge my sins unto me,
Without I could amend 'em.

_Lady._ Why you may by wedding me.

_Elder Lo._ How will that satisfie my word to her?

_Lady._ 'Tis not to be kept, and needs no satisfaction,
'Tis an error fit for repentance only.

_Elder Lo._ Shall I live to wrong that tender hearted Virgin so? It may
not be.

_Lady._ Why may it not be?

_Elder Lo._ I swear I would rather marry thee than her: but yet mine

_Lady._ What honesty? 'Tis more preserv'd this way:
Come, by this light, servant, thou shalt, I'le kiss thee on't.

_Elder Lo._ This kiss indeed is sweet, pray God no sin lie under it.

_Lady._ There is no sin at all, try but another.

_Wel._ O my heart!

_Mar._ Help Sister, this Lady swounds.

_Elder Lo._ How do you?

_Wel._ Why very well, if you be so.

_Elder Lo._ Since a quiet mind lives not in any Woman, I shall do a most
ungodly thing. Hear me one word more, which by all my hopes I will not
alter, I did make an oath when you delai'd me so, that this very night I
would be married. Now if you will go without delay, suddenly, as late as
it is, with your own Minister to your own Chapel, I'le wed you and to bed.

_Lady._ A match dear servant.

_Elder Lo._ For if you should forsake me now, I care not, she would not
though for all her injuries, such is her spirit. If I be not ashamed to
kiss her now I part, may I not live.

_Wel._ I see you go, as slily as you think to steal away: yet I will pray
for you; all blessings of the world light on you two, that you may live to
be an aged pair. All curses on me if I do not speak what I do wish indeed.

_Elder Lo._ If I can speak to purpose to her, I am a villain.

_Lady._ Servant away.

_Mar._ Sister, will you Marry that inconstant man? think you he will not
cast you off to morrow, to wrong a Lady thus, lookt she like dirt, 'twas
basely done. May you ne're prosper with him.

_Wel._ Now God forbid. Alas I was unworthy, so I told him.

_Mar._ That was your modesty, too good for him.
I would not see your wedding for a world.

_Lady._ Chuse chuse, come _Younglove_.

[_Exit_ La. Elder Lo. _and_ Young.

_Mar._ Dry up your eyes forsooth, you shall not think we are all such
uncivil beasts as these. Would I knew how to give you a revenge.

_Wel._ So would not I: No let me suffer truly, that I desire.

_Mar._ Pray walk in with me, 'tis very late, and you shall stay all night:
your bed shall be no worse than mine; I wish I could but do you right.

_Wel._ My humble thanks:
God grant I may but live to quit your love. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Young Loveless _and_ Savil.

_Young Lo._ Did your Master send for me _Savil_?

_Sav._ Yes, he did send for your worship Sir.

_Young Lo._ Do you know the business?

_Sav._ Alas Sir, I know nothing, nor am imployed beyond my hours of
eating. My dancing days are done Sir.

_Young Lo._ What art thou now then?

_Sav._ If you consider me in little, I am with your worships reverence
Sir, a Rascal: one that upon the next anger of your Brother, must raise a
sconce by the high way, and sell switches; my wife is learning now Sir, to
weave inkle.

_Young Lo._ What dost thou mean to do with thy Children _Savil_?

_Sav._ My eldest boy is half a Rogue already, he was born bursten, and
your worship knows, that is a pretty step to mens compassions. My youngest
boy I purpose Sir to bind for ten years to a G[ao]ler, to draw under him,
that he may shew us mercy in his function.

_Young Lo._ Your family is quartered with discretion: you are resolved to
Cant then: where _Savil_ shall your scene lie?

_Sav._ Beggers must be no chusers.
In every place (I take it) but the stocks.

_Young Lo._ This is your drinking, and your whoring _Savil_, I told you of
it, but your heart was hardened.

_Sav._ 'Tis true, you were the first that told me of it I do remember yet
in tears, you told me you would have Whores, and in that passion Sir, you
broke out thus; Thou miserable man, repent, and brew three Strikes more in
a Hogshead. 'Tis noon e're we be drunk now, and the time can tarry for no

_Young Lo._ Y'are grown a bitter Gentleman. I see misery can clear your
head better than Mustard, I'le be a sutor for your Keys again Sir.

_Sav._ Will you but be so gracious to me Sir? I shall be bound.

_Young Lo._ You shall Sir
To your bunch again, or I'le miss foully.

_Enter_ Morecraft.

_Mor._ Save you Gentleman, save you.

_Young Lo._ Now Polecat, what young Rabets nest have you to draw?

_Mor._ Come, prethee be familiar Knight.

_Young Lo._ Away Fox, I'le send for Terriers for you.

_Mor._ Thou art wide yet: I'le keep thee companie.

_Young Lo._ I am about some business; Indentures,
If ye follow me I'le beat you: take heed,
A[s] I live I'le cancel your Coxcomb.

_Mor._ Thou art cozen'd now, I am no usurer:
What poor fellow's this?

_Savil._ I am poor indeed Sir.

_Mor._ Give him mony Knight.

_Young Lo._ Do you begin the offering.

_Mor._ There poor fellow, here's an Angel for thee.

_Young Lo._ Art thou in earnest _Morecraft_?

_Mor._ Yes faith Knight, I'le follow thy example: thou hadst land and
thousands, thou spendst, and flungst away, and yet it flows in double: I
purchased, wrung, and wierdraw'd, for my wealth, lost, and was cozen'd:
for which I make a vow, to trie all the waies above ground, but I'le find
a constant means to riches without curses.

_Young Lo._ I am glad of your conversion Master _Morecraft_:
Y'are in a fair course, pray pursue it still.

_Mor._ Come, we are all gallants now, I'le keep thee company;
Here honest fellow, for this Gentlemans sake, there's two Angels more for

_Savil._ God quite you Sir, and keep you long in this mind.

_Young Lo._ Wilt thou persevere?

_Mor._ Till I have a penny. I have brave cloathes a making, and two
horses; canst thou not help me to a match Knight, I'le lay a thousand
pound upon my crop-ear.

_Yo. Lo._ Foot, this is stranger than an _Africk_ monster, There will be
no more talk of the _Cleve_ wars Whilst this lasts, come, I'le put thee
into blood.

_Sav._ Would all his damn'd tribe were as tender hearted. I beseech you
let this Gentleman join with you in the recovery of my Keyes; I like his
good beginning Sir, the whilst I'le pray for both your worships.

_Young Lo._ He shall Sir.

_Mor._ Shall we goe noble Knight? I would fain be acquainted.

_Young Lo._ I'le be your Servant Sir. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Elder Loveless, _and_ Lady.

_Elder Lo._ Faith my sweet Lady, I have caught you now, maugre your
subtilties, and fine devices, be coy again now.

_Lady._ Prethee sweet-heart tell true.

_Elder Lo._ By this light, by all the pleasures I have had this night, by
your lost maidenhead, you are cozened meerly. I have cast beyond your wit.
That Gentleman is your retainer _Welford_.

_Lady._ It cannot be so.

_Elder Lo._ Your Sister has found it so, or I mistake, mark how she
blushes when you see her next. Ha, ha, ha, I shall not travel now, ha, ha,

_Lady._ Prethee sweet heart be quiet, thou hast angred me at heart.

_Elder Lo._ I'le please you soon again.

_La._ Welford?

_Elder Lo._ I _Welford_, hee's a young handsome fellow, well bred and
landed, your Sister can instruct you in his good parts, better than I by
this time.

_Lady._ Uds foot am I fetcht over thus?

_Elder Lo._ Yes i'faith.
And over shall be fetcht again, never fear it.

_Lady._ I must be patient, though it torture me:
You have got the Sun Sir.

_Elder Lo._ And the Moon too, in which I'le be the man.

_Lady._ But had I known this, had I but surmiz'd it, you should have
hunted three trains more, before you had come to th' course, you should
have hankt o'th' bridle, Sir, i'faith.

_El. Lo._ I knew it, and min'd with you, and so blew you up.
Now you may see the Gentlewoman: stand close.

_Enter_ Welford, _and_ Martha.

_Mar._ For Gods sake Sir, be private in this business,
You have undone me else. O God, what have I done?

_Wel._ No harm I warrant thee.

_Mar._ How shall I look upon my friends again?
With what face?

_Wel._ Why e'ne with that: 'tis a good one, thou canst not find a better:
look upon all the faces thou shall see there, and you shall find 'em
smooth still, fair still, sweet still, and to your thinking honest; those
have done as much as you have yet, or dare doe Mistris, and yet they keep
no stir.

_Mar._ Good Sir goe in, and put your womans cloaths on:
If you be seen thus, I am lost for ever.

_Wel._ I'le watch you for that Mistris: I am no fool, here will I tarry
till the house be up and witness with me.

_Mar._ Good dear friend goe in.

_Wel._ To bed again if you please, else I am fixt here till there be
notice taken what I am, and what I have done: if you could juggle me into
my woman-hood again, and so cog me out of your company, all this would be
forsworn, and I again an _asinego_, as your Sister left me. No, I'le have
it known and publisht; then if you'le be a whore, forsake me and be
asham'd: and when you can hold no longer, marry some cast _Cleve Captain_,
and sell Bottle-ale.

_Mar._ I dare not stay Sir, use me modestly, I am your wife.

_Wel._ Goe in, I'le make up all.

_Elder Lo._ I'le be a witness of your naked truth Sir: this is the
Gentlewoman, prethee look upon him, that is he that made me break my faith
sweet: but thank your Sister, she hath soder'd it.

_Lady._ What a dull ass was I, I could not see this wencher from a wench:
twenty to one, if I had been but tender like my Sister, he had served me
such a slippery trick too.

_Wel._ Twenty to one I had.

_Elder Lo._ I would have watcht you Sir, by your good patience, for
ferreting in my ground.

_Lady._ You have been with my Sister.

_Wel._ Yes to bring.

_Elder Lo._ An heir into the world he means.

_Lady._ There is no chafing now.

_Wel._ I have had my part on't: I have been chaft this three hours, that's
the least, I am reasonable cool now.

_Lady._ Cannot you fare well, but you must cry roast-meat?

_Wel._ He that fares well, and will not bless the founders, is either
surfeited, or ill taught, Lady, for mine own part, I have found so sweet a
diet, I can commend it, though I cannot spare it.

_Elder Lo._ How like you this dish, _Welford_, I made a supper on't, and
fed so heartily, I could not sleep.

_Lady._ By this light, had I but scented out your [train], ye had slept
with a bare pillow in your arms and kist that, or else the bed-post, for
any wife ye had got this twelve-month yet: I would have vext you more than
a try'd post-horse; and been longer bearing, than ever after-game at
_Irish_ was. Lord, that I were unmarried again.

_Elder Lo._ Lady I would not undertake ye, were you again a _Haggard_, for
the best cast of four Ladys i'th' Kingdom: you were ever tickle-footed,
and would not truss round.

_Wel._ Is she fast?

_Elder Lo._ She was all night lockt here boy.

_Wel._ Then you may lure her without fear of losing: take off her Cranes.
You have a delicate Gentlewoman to your Sister: Lord what a prettie furie
she was in, when she perceived I was a man: but I thank God I satisfied
her scruple, without the Parson o'th' town.

_Elder Lo._ What did ye?

_Wel._ Madam, can you tell what we did?

_Elder Lo._ She has a shrewd guess at it I see it by her.

_Lady._ Well you may mock us: but my large Gentlewoman, my _Mary Ambre_,
had I but seen into you, you should have had another bed-fellow, fitter a
great deal for your itch.

_Wel._ I thank you Lady, me thought it was well,
You are so curious.

_Enter_ Young Loveless, _his_ Lady, Morecraft, Savil, _and two

_El. Lo._ Get on your doublet, here comes my Brother.

_Yo. Lo._ Good morrow Brother, and all good to your Lady.

_Mor._ God save you and good morrow to you all.

_El. Lo._ Good morrow. Here's a poor brother of yours.

_Lady._ Fie how this shames me.

_Mor._ Prethee good fellow help me to a cup of beer.

_Ser._ I will Sir.

_Yo. Lo._ Brother what makes you here? will this Lady do?
Will she? is she not nettl'd still?

_Elder Lo._ No I have cur'd her.
Mr. _Welford_, pray know this Gentleman is my Brother.

_Wel._ Sir I shall long to love him.

_Yo. Lo._ I shall not be your debter Sir. But how is't with you?

_Elder Lo._ As well as may be man: I am married: your new acquaintance
hath her Sister, and all's well.

_Yo. Lo._ I am glad on't. Now my prettie Lady Sister,
How do you find my Brother?

_Lady._ Almost as wild as you are.

_Yo. Lo._ He will make the better husband: you have tried him?

_Lady._ Against my will Sir.

_Yo. Lo._ Hee'l make your will amends soon, do not doubt it.
But Sir I must intreat you to be better known
To this converted _Jew_ here.

_Ser._ Here's Beer for you Sir.

_Mor._ And here's for you an Angel:
Pray buy no Land, 'twill never prosper Sir.

_Elder Lo._ How's this?

_Yo. Lo._ Bless you, and then I'le tell: He's turn'd Gallant.

_Elder Lo._ Gallant?

_Yo. Lo._ I Gallant, and is now called, _Cutting Morecraft_:
The reason I'le inform you at more leisure.

_Wel._ O good Sir let me know him presently.

_Young Lo._ You shall hug one another.

_Mor._ Sir I must keep you company.

_Elder Lo._ And reason.

_Young Lo._ Cutting _Morecraft_ faces about, I must present another.

_Mor._ As many as you will Sir, I am for 'em.

_Wel._ Sir I shall do you service.

_Mor._ I shall look for't in good faith Sir.

_Elder Lo._ Prethee good sweet heart kiss him.

_Lady._ Who, that fellow?

_Savil._ Sir will it please you to remember me: my keys good Sir.

_Young Lo._ I'le doe it presently.

_El. Lo._ Come thou shalt kiss him for our sport sake.

_La._ Let him come on then; and do you hear, do not instruct me in these
tricks, for you may repent it.

_El. Lo._ That at my peril. Lusty Mr. _Morecraft_,
Here is a Lady would salute you.

_Mor._ She shall not lose her longing Sir: what is she?

_Elder Lo._ My wife Sir.

_Mor._ She must be then my Mistres.

_Lady._ Must I Sir?

_Elder Lo._ O yes, you must.

_Mor._ And you must take this ring, a poor pawn
Of some fiftie pound.

_El Lo._ Take it by any means, 'tis lawfull prize.

_Lady._ Sir I shall call you servant.

_Mor._ I shall be proud on't: what fellow's that?

_Young Lo._ My Ladies Coachman.

_Mor._ There's something, (my friend) for you to buy whips,
And for you Sir, and you Sir.

_Elder Lo._ Under a miracle this is the strangest
I ever heard of.

_Mor._ What, shall we play, or drink? what shall we doe?
Who will hunt with me for a hundred pounds?

_Wel._ Stranger and Stranger!
Sir you shall find sport after a day or two.

_Young Lo._ Sir I have a sute unto you
Concerning your old servant _Savil_.

_Elder Lo._ O, for his keys, I know it.

_Savil._ Now Sir, strike in.

_Mor._ Sir I must have you grant me.

_Elder Lo._ 'Tis done Sir, take your keys again:
But hark you _Savil_, leave off the motions
Of the flesh, and be honest, or else you shall graze again:
I'le try you once more.

_Savil._ If ever I be taken drunk, or whoring,
Take off the biggest key i'th' bunch, and open
My head with it Sir: I humbly thank your worships.

_Elder Lo._ Nay then I see we must keep holiday.
_Enter_ Roger, _and_ Abigal.
Here's the last couple in hell.

_Roger._ Joy be among you all.

_Lady._ Why how now Sir, what is the meaning of this emblem?

_Roger._ Marriage an't like your worship.

_Lady._ Are you married?

_Roger._ As well as the next Priest could doe it, Madam.

_Elder Lo._ I think the sign's in _Gemini_, here's such coupling.

_Wel._ Sir _Roger_, what will you take to lie from your sweet-heart to

_Roger._ Not the best benefice in your worships gift Sir.

_Wel._ A whorson, how he swells.

_Young Lo._ How many times to night Sir _Roger_?

_Roger._ Sir you grow scurrilous:
What I shall do, I shall do: I shall not need your help.

_Young Lo._ For horse flesh _Roger_.

_Elder Lo._ Come prethee be not angry, 'tis a day
Given wholly to our mirth.

_Lady._ It shall be so Sir: Sir _Roger_ and his Bride,
We shall intreat to be at our charge.

_El. Lo._ _Welford_ get you to the Church: by this light,
You shall not lie with her again, till y'are married.

_Wel._ I am gone.

_Mor._ To every Bride I dedicate this day
Six healths a piece, and it shall goe hard,
But every one a Jewell: Come be mad boys.

_El. Lo._ Th'art in a good beginning: come who leads?
Sir _Roger_, you shall have the _Van_: lead the way:
Would every dogged wench had such a day. [_Exeunt._

(A) The | Scornful | Ladie. | A Comedie. | As it was Acted (with great
applause) by the children of Her Majesties | Revels in the Blacke |
Written by | Fra. Beaumont and Jo. Fletcher, Gent. | London | Printed for
Myles Partrich, and are to be sold | at his Shop at the George neere St
Dunstans | Church in Fleet-streete. 1616.

(B) The | Scorneful | Ladie. | A Comedie. | As it was now lately Acted
(with | great applause) by the Kings | Majesties servants, at the | Blacke
Fryers. | Written by | Fra. Beaumont, and Jo. Fletcher, | Gentlemen. |
London, | Printed for M.P. and are to be sold by | Thomas Jones, at the
blacke Raven, in | the Strand. 1625.

(C) The | Scornefull | Ladie. | A Comedie. | As it was now lately Acted
(with great | applause) by the Kings Majesties Servants, | at the
| Written | By Fran: Beaumont, and Jo: Fletcher, | Gentlemen. | The
third Edition. | London. | Printed by B.A. and T.F. for T. Jones, and are
to be sold at his | Shop in St. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet-street. |

(D) The | Scornfull | Ladie. | A Comedy. | As it was now lately Acted
(with great | applause) by the Kings Majesties Servants, | at the
| Written by Francis Beaymont, and John Fletcher, Gentlemen. | The
fourth Edition. | London, | Printed by A.M. 1635.

(E) The | Scornfull | Lady. | A Comedy. | As it was now lately Acted
(with great | applause) by the Kings Majesties Servants, [at the
| Written by Francis Beaumont, and John Fletcher. Gentlemen. |
The fift Edition. | London, | Printed by M.P. for Robert Wilson, and are
to be sold at | his shop in Holborne at Grayes-Inne Gate. | 1639.

(F) The | Scornfull | Lady. | A Comedy. | As it was Acted (with great
applause) by | the late Kings Majesties Servants, | at the Black-Fryers.
| Written by Francis Beaumont, and John Fletcher. Gentlemen. | The sixt
Edition, Corrected and | amended. | London: | Printed for Humphrey
Moseley, and are to be sold at his Shop | at the Princes Armes in St.
Pauls Church-yard. 1651.
(The British Museum copy lacks the printer's device on the title-page,
possessed by other copies seen; it varies also slightly in spelling etc.)

(G) The | Scornful | Lady: | A | Comedy. | As it is now Acted at the |
Theater Royal, | by | His Majesties Servants.
| Written by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher Gent. | The Seventh
Edition. | London: | Printed by A. Maxwell and R. Roberts, for D.N. and
T.C. and are | to be sold by Simon Neale, at the Three Pidgeons in |
Bedford-street in Covent-Garden, 1677.

p. 231,
l. 5. A omits list of Persons Represented in the Play.
B--E print the list on the back of the title-page, under the
heading 'The Actors are these.'
In F and G the same list is printed on a separate page following
the title-page.
G] The Names of the Actors.
l. 8. B and C] the eldest. D--G] the elder.

p. 232,
l. 1. A] a Userer.
l. 4. A] Savill make the boate stay.
B _prints_ '_Savil._ Make the boat stay,' as if the rest of the
speech were spoken by Savil.
C--G for '_Savil_' print '_Yo. Lo._,' thus giving the words to
Young Loveless.
l. 9. E and G] at home marry.
l. 10. A--E and G] your countrey.
F] your own country.
A and B] then to travell for diseases, and returne following
the Court in a nightcap, and die without issue.
l. 15. Here and throughout the scene for 'Younglove' D--G] Abigall.
l. 16. A--C] Mistres. D] Mistrisse. E--G] Mistris.
l. 22. A and B] for me.
l. 33. E--G _omit_] Exit.

p. 233,
l. 2. G] acted Loves.
l. 3. A, B and E--G] murtherers.
l. 6. A and B] that shall be.
l. 12. A--G] woman.
l. 25. A--G _omit_] and.
l. 31. F] out there.
l. 35. D--G for _Younglove_] Abigall.

p. 234,
l. 5. F] time of place.
l. 16. E--G _omit_] Yes.
l. 19. E--G] that can.
l. 27. F] deadfull.
l. 37. G] and put.
l. 39. A and B] with you for laughter.

p. 235,
l. 10. A and B] and so you satisfied.
l. 17. B] doeth.
l. 28. A] Hipochrists. E and F] Hipocrasse. G] Hippocrass.
l. 34. A and B] his yeere.
l. 31. G] said she.

p. 236,
l. 9. B] doeth.
D and E] with you.
l. 17. G _omits one_] that.
l. 19. G] I'le live.

p. 237,
l. 1. A and B] with three guards.
l. 4. D] wesse. E--G] wisse.
l. 10. D--G] Abigall.
l. 14. E--G] happily.
l. 21. A--E] may call.
l. 25. A--G] as on others.
A--G _omit_] that.
l. 27. A--G] A my credit.
l. 30. A and B] beginnings.
l. 31. G] maid.
l. 32. E and G] bed.
l. 33. D--G] doe you not.
l. 35. D--G] Abigall.

p. 238,
l. 2. A and B] rid hard.
l. 25. A] other woemen the housholds of. B--G] of the households.
G] of as good.
l. 28. F and G] tho not so coy.
D--G] Abigall.
l. 36. A--G] God.

p. 239,
l. 7. G] Call'd.
l. 17. A] your names.
l. 32. A] the weomen.
l. 33. A and B] an needlesse.
E--G _omit_] a.
F] her comes.
G _and sometimes_ F] here comes.

p. 240,
l. 4. E--G _omit_] of.
F and G] I do inculcate Divine Homilies.
l. 13. G] man neglect.
l. 16. A and B] I pray ye.
A--G] and whilst.
l. 19. B] your Lay.
l. 20. C--F] ingenuous.
l. 23. A] I shall beate.
l. 25. A--E] forget one, who. F and G] forget then who.
l. 34. A and B] how Hoppes goe.

p. 241,
l. 6. A--G] to keep.
l. 14. F and G] like a Gentlemen.
l. 15. F _omits_] me.
l. 23. D--G] Yet, that.
l. 25. A--E _omit_] of.
F and G] Ile here no more, this is.
l. 30. A--E and G] comes.
l. 39. A] Gent.

p. 242,
l. 6. A--G _omit_] etc.
l. 7. B--G] help all.
l. 22. A and B] warre, that cries.
l. 27. G] has knockt.
l. 32. D--G _omit_] even.
A--G] a conscience.
l. 34. A--E _omit_] he.

p. 243,
l. 6. E--G] pound.
l. 11. A and B] We will have nobody talke wisely neither.
F] Will you not.
l. 17. A--C] ath Coram.
l. 25. F and G _omit_] that.
l. 27. F and G] sir, to expound it.
l. 28. 2nd Folio _misprints_] iuterpretation.
l. 37. A and B _omit_] Sir.
l. 40. F _omits_] keep.

p. 244,
l. 1. F and G _add after_ part] Savil.
l. 6. D--G _add_] Finis Actus Primus.
F and G _add_] _Omnes._ O brave Loveless! (F=Lovelace)
Exeunt omnes.
l. 12. F and G _omit_] Lady.
l. 13. F and G] that complaint.
l. 28. F and G] it loveth.
l. 34. A] premised.

p. 245,
l. 11. D--G] reprov'd him.
l. 22. F and G] hath made.
l. 23. A and B _misprint_] Maria.
l. 25. F and G] with a.
l. 27. A and B] He's fast.
l. 39. F and G _omit_] Sir.

p. 246,
l. 4. A, B and G] Gentlewoman.
l. 23. G _omits_] indeed.
l. 26. F and G] smile hath.
l. 28. A--E and G] cropping off.
l. 34. E and G] meditations.
l. 36. F and G] and experience the.
E--G] collection.
l. 39. F and G] thus to.

p. 248,
ll. 3 and 4. G] and fornication.
l. 24. A and G] set.

p. 249,
l. 10. A--C, E--G] appeares.
l. 11. A] drown.
l. 12. G] Sir Aeneas.
l. 34. A and B] Gentlewoman.

p. 250,
l. 15. A--G] a Gods name.

p. 251,
l. 11. A and B _add_] Drinke to my friend Captaine.
l. 14. A, B, F and G _add at end_] Sir.
l. 15. A--G] cursie. F] a tittle.
l. 16. G] would strive, Sir. F] I will strive, Sir.
l. 22. Second Folio _misprints_] Youn.
l. 24. A] to feede more fishes.
l. 30. F and G] pray you let.
l. 34. A] a ful rouse.
ll. 36 and 37. D and F] I bear.
l. 39. A--G] a your knees.

p. 252,
l. 12. A] finde.
l. 32. F and G _for_ Capt. (character) _read_
Sav. _and add_ 'Let's in and drink and give' etc.

p. 253,
l. 5. F and G] be you your.
l. 27. D--F] love chamber.
G] dares.
l. 34. A--C] will stoop.
l. 35. A] feede ill.
l. 36. A--G] which for I was his wife and gave way to.
l. 39. F] in patience of.

p. 254,
l. 1. D and E] gossip too.
l. 3. E and F] from whence.
l. 9. F _misprints_] crown'd at.
l. 21. E--G] have the money.
l. 23. F and G] provided my wise.
l. 26. F] Here's here.
ll. 30 and 31. F and G] for thine.
l. 32. F _omits_] well.

p. 255,
l. 1. A] the faith.
l. 11. D--G] mony fit for.
l. 13. A--D, F and G] afore.
l. 14. G _omits_] all.
ll. 18 and 19. D--G] turne up.
l. 20. G] Ship.
l. 22. G] poor man.
l. 26. D, F and G] against the.
l. 28. A--G] thy staffe of office there, thy pen and Ink-horne.
Noble boy.
l. 29. A] sed.
ll. 30 and 31. A--G] thy seat.
l. 34. F and G] men immortal.
l. 37. A] that shall.
l. 40. A] What meane they Captaine.

p. 256,
l. 8. F and G] pounds.
l. 9. F and G] by this hand.
l. 13. F and G] There is six Angels in earnest.
l. 17. A] all in.
l. 25. F and G _omit_] so be it.
l. 35. A and B] at charge.
l. 40. A--G _add_] Finis Actus Secundi.

p. 257,
l. 2. A _omits_] and drops her glove.
l. 3. A--C] tels.
l. 8. A, B and D--G] Lenvoy.
l. 16. F and G] No, Sir.

p. 258,
l. 10. D, E and G] come here to speak with.
l. 18. F and G] I say I.
l. 26. A _misprints_] ralkt.
F and G] with the.
l. 29. F and G] Troth guess.
l. 33. F] Gentlewomen.
l. 36. A and B] But one, I am.
C] or Woman.

p. 259,
l. 1. A] shall not you.
l. 16. A--C and E--G] no such.
l. 19. A--C and E--G] tender Sir, whose gentle bloud.
l. 29. A _omits_] be.

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