A Select Collection of Old English Plays - LightNovelsOnl.com
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ACT II., SCENE 1.
_Enter two_ BOYS.
1ST BOY. Room, room for the ladies of the new dress.
2D BOY. Thou styles them rightly, Tim; for they have played the snakes, and put off their old slough. New brooms sweep clean.
Frosty age and youth suit not well together. These _bona-robas_ must sate their appet.i.tes with fresh cates, or their sharp attractive stomachs will be quickly cloyed.
1ST BOY. True, Nick; hadst thou known their nightly quartering as well as I have done, thou wouldst hold them rare coy-ducks for retrieving new game, and storing their lobbies upon all adventures.
2D BOY. Why, Tim, art thou one of that covey?
1ST BOY. Let it suffice thee, wag, I know all their f.a.garies[111]
to a hair. I have not played such a truant in my place as to become their pee-dee[112] during all the time of their restraint, and not to attain the principles of a puisne bolt: a faithful secret pimp deserves his constant pay.
2D BOY. But, in good sadness, resolve me: were these dainty Dabrides ever in restraint?
1ST BOY. As close cooped up, believe it, as any parachitoes ever were. Only they a.s.sumed to their pretended aggrievances to exclaim against their hard fortunes in being matched with such impotent and defective husbands; and now they have, by long flickering and strong favourites, got out o' th' cage, and wrought themselves into alimony.
2D BOY. Uds! so will their dainty fingers tug in alum-work?
1ST BOY. What an ignorant puppy thou art! This is no alum-work, but such a calcinated metal as it will run like quicksilver over all their husbands' domains, and in very short time make a quick despatch of all his Long-acre.
2D BOY. Trust me, Tim, these be mad-mettled girls, brave braches to breed on!
1ST BOY. What a wanton monkey is this? He's but newly bred, and he can talk of wenches breeding! Well, thou wilt grow a c.o.c.k of th' game if thy pen-feathered youth mount to't. But silence, wag; the she-myrmidons are entering the stage, and I am p.r.i.c.ked out for the chorus.
SCENE II.
_Enter six Ladies fantastically habited, in a wanton and pleasant posture: pa.s.sing over the stage, they are encountered by six amorous complimental Servants, every one singling forth his mistress for discourse._
2D BOY. What humorous tomboys be these?
1ST BOY. The only gallant Messalinas of our age. That love-spotted ermine is Madam Fricase, a woman of a rampant spirit; a confident pretender to language; and, for the Latin, she makes herself as familiar with the breach of Priscian's head as if it were her husband's.
2D BOY. Who is she, that looks like a mounted scaledrake?[113]
1ST BOY. That spitfire is Madam Caveare: one whose a.s.siduate trading brought age upon her before her time. But art has taught her to supply furrowed deformities with ceruse boxes, and to repair a decayed complexion with an Italian fucus. This, with other fomentations, have so enlivened her, as they render her no less active than if she at last gra.s.s had but casten her colt's-tooth. The next in rank is that mincing madam Julippe, who would not bear a child for a world (though her endeavours be pregnant enough), for fear she should disfeature the comeliness of her body.
2D BOY. Yet she's a medlar.[114]
1ST BOY. A mellow one, and as ready to fall in autumn upon all occasions.
2D BOY. What may that gaudy gewgaw lady be, that throws such scornful looks upon our galleries?
1ST BOY. That's a brave martial Milanoise: Semiramis never had a more imperious spirit. She styles herself Madam Joculette; a jocund girl, on my word, and one that will not engage her honour, nor barter in a low commodity, for nothing. She was a tirewoman at first in the suburbs of Milan; but falling into an ebb of fortune, and hearing the quaint and various fancies of our country damosellas, she took upon her this adventure to improve her annual pension; which she has by the dexterity of her wit and incomparable curiosity of art highly enlarged, and by this unexpected means--for it happened, to give an addition to her future happiness, that one Sir Gregory Shapeless, a mundungo[115]
monopolist, a paltry-penurious-pecking pinchgut, who had smoked himself into a mercenary t.i.tle of knights.h.i.+p, set his affection upon her soon after her arrival here; whom thou may imagine, Nick, to be no sooner wooed than won. But scarcely were their marriage-sheets warm, till her dissembled fancy, having no other bait but lucre to feed it, grew cold, and the mundungo-knight became pitifully crest-fallen--more in love with the world than his Italian doxy. A divorce she sues, and so happily pursues, as by the solicitancy of her private ingles she became whole sharer in his trucking fortunes; since which time she pastures freely upon the common without fear of enclosure.
2D BOY. Why should she not? A barren ranging doe, having once leapt over her own pale, may encroach, though not with security, upon any other's liberty.
1ST BOY. That next her in rank, and as right as my leg in her career, is Madam Medler, a cunning civil trader, who with much simpering secrecy, as one that would seem sparing in discovery of her husband's debility, calls him[116] Sir Tristram Shorttool, a good, well-meaning man, and one that might content any woman under the equinoctial line, if Nature had measured her[117]
right. Whereas his sufficiency has been elsewhere tried, which his many branches, sprung from other stocks, may sufficiently witness, being scions[118] of his own inoculating, and at his own proper charge for breeding. As for that lady with the inflamed face, Madam Tinder, her desires are so strong and enlarged, as that torrid zone, where she sometimes planted, could not accommodate her supplies. And let this serve thee, Nick, for a short character of these alimonial ladies.
2D BOY. Those Platonic servants of theirs are upon a strong debate with their amorous mistresses.
1ST BOY. But note, my precious wag, how infinitely they seem tickled with the accounts, which those ladies return them of their court proceedings.
[_They retire, and listen._
SCENE III.
FLO. You overglad me, Madam Fricase, With your select discourse, closing so fairly With our expected wishes.
CAR. No conceit Struck more on fancy than the tale you told me; 'Tis so attractive, Madam Caveare.
It acts delight without a pa.s.sive object, And forms an embryo in the phantasy By love's mysterious spell. May Ida's court Ne'er see Caranto exercise his revels, If he neglect those ceremonial rites Which love and duty have oblig'd him to.
May all the orbs make music in their motion, And smile on our enjoyment!
PAL. Fair Julippe, Your choice has crown'd me; nor shall track of time Raze out that imprese which[119] your free a.s.sent Has here engraven. Palisado's zeal Shall merit your affection, if endeavours May mount to such a pitch as they may cheer My hopes in retribution. Secrecy, Or what may most suit with a lady's honour, Shall in this breast keep constant sentry.[120]
SAL. If Salibrand fall short, may he be forc'd To sue his own divorce. Dear Joculette, May your estrangement from a loathed bed Complete your choice with a delightful change.
MOR. b.a.l.l.s, treats, rear-banquets, theatral receipts To solace tedious hours, shall entertain My mellow Medlar; and when evening pleasure Shall with enlivening vigour summon more Duly-reserved offices, which Love In her arrival, her desir'd repose, Shall pay his loyal tribute, only due To crowns and nuptial rites: or as pure times Make these divisions legal, to supply Defects by abler farmers, which defray'd, Proves man to be himself. I'll vow no more: Only give leave to your devoted servant, Whose purest victim is a constant heart, To make this tender good. Before I fail In acting your content, may youthful heat Disclaim its interest in me, and this spirit, Active and sprightly, lose his native strength-- Nay, thaw itself to atoms, and resolve To ophic powder, juice of cuc.u.mber, Or what may show most chilness in the blood.
TIL. Like brave Platonic, you profess much love, Which, you enamel with gilt promises; But my affection's conscious of no guilt,[121]
Nor a rhetoric tincture. Some can speak, And call the heavens to record, when their fancy, Mere planet-struck, has fix'd their influence On various objects: this deludes poor wenches, And makes them melt like ceruse! Heav'ns forgive them!
I'm none of that light leaven; nor, Florello, Caranto, Palisado, Salibrand, Nor you, Morisco. Moments of delight May prompt unmanag'd youths to d.a.m.n'd protests And vows which they intend not: whereas, madams, Your choice has made you happy in your change.
This shall my dear affianc'd Tinder find In her embraces; and in those conclude Stol'n waters be the sweetest.
ALL. Excellent; Thou shalt be styl'd th' Platonic Pythias.
FRI. Our faith is not confirm'd by oratory.
If man, he cannot falsify his trust In offices of love; we leave our own For your enjoyment; were there piety In making love the anvil of your treason?
No, no; we shall not entertain a thought, That may suggest suspicion, nor retain In our late-widow'd b.r.e.a.s.t.s a crime so foul As jealousy. Let our cornutos harbour That marrow-eating fury. Dear Florello, Hold my exchanged love complete in thee!
CAV. Hold same opinion of thy Caveare, My best Caranto.
JUL. Treasure like esteem In thy Julippe's choice, brave Palisado.
JOC. In Joculette, active Salibrand.
MED. Thy sprightliest revels, may they be reserv'd For thy endeared Medlar, my Morisco.
TIN. So may thy hopes be crowned in thy Tinder, My valiant Tilly; and rest thus resolv'd: That th' tender tinder of my tried affection Shall ne'er obscure its l.u.s.tre, if neglect Extinguish not that heat.