A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Xiv Part 69

SAL. Her rich deserts, Adorn'd with such choice native faculties, And grac'd with art to make them more complete, In humane reason should exempt her youth From such a servile yoke.

MOR. In ancient times, When wisdom guarded senates, a decree, Confirmed by public vote, enacted was, That none should marry till he had observ'd Domestic discipline; and first to bear With a composed garb th' indignities Of a Xantippe, if his fortune were To cope with such a fury: and to calm Her pa.s.sion with his patience. Now, grave colleagues, What comfort might this injur'd lady drain, In these punctilios which import her state, From this insensate sot?

TIL. Exchange his bed, And sue his patent for the _Fatuano_; And, to display him to his visitants In clearer colours, let this motto be Engraven on those walls, deep-ach'd with time, "Defective in his head-piece, here he lies, Object of scorn to all surveying eyes."

2D BOY. So, poor scatterbrain, he has got his judgment already.

[_Aside._

CAR. Praxiteles could ne'er portray him better, Nor lodge his sconce more fitly. You may, madam, Conceive how sensibly we feel your wounds, And with what promptness we shall expedite Your long-expected cure.

PAL. Madam Julippe, You come next in rank; declare your griefs, And if our judgments hold them meriting Our just relief, we have compa.s.sionate hearts And powerful hands to vindicate your wrongs To th' utmost scruple.

JUL. If they weigh not heavy, Let me incur your censure. Patriots-- For I appeal to your judicious bosoms, Where serious justice has a residence Mix'd with a pious pity--I shall unravel The clue of my misfortunes in small threads, Thin-spun as is the subtle gossamer.[127]

Deep wounds, like griefs, require contracted lines; Few words, long sighs: accents that want express.

First give me leave one beamling to bestow On my obscur'd, once glorious, family.

ALL. Madam, proceed; Fame made it eminent.

JUL. But now contemptive--by marrying one Who bears the shape of man, and that is all: A base, white-liver'd coward, whose regard To his lost honour stamps him with that brand, That hateful stigma, which humanity Scorns as the basest complice.

PAL. Style it, madam.

JUL. Pusillanimity. That ranter breathes not, Who with his peek'd mouchatoes[128] may not brave him, Baffle, nay baste him out of his possessions.

His fortunes he esteems not, so his person May be secur'd from beating.

ALL. Matchless coward!

JUL. Nor is this all. 'Has sought t' engage my bed, My nuptial bed and honour--nay, those sheets Where, I may safely vow, ne'er man lay in, Beside my husband.

2D BOY. Very like; but how many when he was not there?

[_Aside._

FLO. No misfortune worse, Nor humour hateful to a virile spirit, Whereof your n.o.ble family partakes, Than want of courage.

PAL. Tush, sir, that's not all.

Her line, in time, might grow degenerate, And blanch the living memory of those From whence she came.

CAV. There's none who here appears Before you, conscript consuls, but can give Store of evincing instances of this: For matching with Sir Jasper Simpleton, An hairbrain'd puppy, most of all my brood Run like sh.e.l.l-headed lapwings in careers, Just as their own supposed father did, Simple Sir Jasper, whose small dose of sense Proportion'd their discretion--till a change Impregnated me more wisely.

FRI. So did I Suffer in my raw, puny Amadin; Though all my fears summ'd up their period, And in it crown'd my wishes for one boy (Who, while he lives, I think, will prove a boy), I had by my young stripling, who can trace His father's steps directly: all his games, Wherein his lineal youth takes sole delight Are yert-point, nine-pins, job-nut, or span-counter, Or riding c.o.c.k-horse, which his dad admires, Smiling to see such horsemans.h.i.+p perform'd.

Now I appeal to you, whose judgments are Maturely serious, if these tomboy tricks Might not perplex me, and enforce me too, To act what my affections prompt me do?

JOC. If one complain of the minority Of her thin-downy consort, and you, madam, Of his simplicity whom you have choos'd, And you, Julippe, of his cowardice Whom with averseness you have made your spouse, What grounds of discontent may I conceive, Unhappy Joculette, in my choice-- My nightly torture, whose embraces be Worse than those snaky windings unto me, Dipt in Medusa's charms.

CAR. Unbare your wound.

2D BOY. Nay, let that be the least of your fears; she'll do that to a hair.

[_Aside._

JOC. Know, then, judicious consuls, These arms are forc'd t' enwreathe a shapeless ma.s.s Of all deformity, a bear unlick'd: One whom Thersites, that disfigur'd Greek, So far excell'd in native lineaments, Proportion, feature, and complexion (All rare attractives to the eye of love), As amorous Narcissus in his prime Surpa.s.s'd the roughest sylvan that the woods E'er nurs'd or harbour'd. Yet enjoin'd am I To hug this centaur, who appears to me A prodigy in Nature.

ALL. 'Tis a fate Exacts compa.s.sion, and deserves redress.

FLO. Such a complete and exquisite beauty Accomplish'd in all parts!

CAR. Nay, qualifi'd With rarity of arts to make her s.e.x With pious emulation to admire Her choice perfections----

PAL. And all these obscur'd, Soil'd, sullied, perish'd by th' immeriting touch Of a misshapen boor!

SAL. Such precious gems, Set in ign.o.ble metals, cannot choose But much detract from th' native graceful l.u.s.tre, Which they retain'd, by means of that base ore Impales their orient splendour.

MOR. This is nothing To th' injury her lineage may receive From his deformity.

TIL. I must confess That threat'neth much of danger: yet I read not That Vulcan's poult foot or his s.m.u.tted look Black'ned with Lemnian sea-coal, brought the issue Begot by Venus, if he any got, To change their amorous physnomy.

MOR. He may thank Mars for that active courtesy, or it had Disfigur'd much his spurious progeny.

FLO. Well, madam, we compa.s.sionate your choice In your Sir Gregory Shapeless, and shall find A quick receipt to cure your discontent With a new-moulded and more pleasing feature Than your sad fate enjoys. Repose, till we Have run through all your griefs, and felt your pulses.

2D BOY. For shame's sake, no further, my dainty doctors.

[_Aside._

FLO. With th' symptoms or gradations as they stream In your desertless sufferings; paroxysms, Or what extremes may most surprise your fancies: In these our serious judgments shall supply Such sov'reign cordials as you shall not need No use nor application of more help Than what we shall prepare. Let this suffice: It rests in us to cure your maladies-- Excuse us, Madam Medler; these debates Have kept us from discovery of your wrongs.

MED. Than which none more depressive--would you judge Th' musician good that wants his instrument?

Or any artisan, who goes to work Without provision of a proper tool, To manage that employment? Modesty Bids me conceal the rest: my secret wants Require an active tongue; but womanhood Enjoins me silence.

MOR. 'Las! I'm sensible Of her aggrievance, ere her dialect Can give it breath or accent.

MED. But you say-- And our experience has inform'd us, too-- In that essential truth, that we must first Disclose our wounds, if we expect a cure: Let your impartial judgments, then, give ear To a distressed lady's just complaint.

In my first years, as now I am not old, My friends resolved to supply a portion, Which my descent (though good) could not afford, To match my youth unto a man of age, Whose nest was richly feather'd, stor'd of all But native vigour, which express'd itself As if all radical humour had been drench'd In a chill shady bed of cuc.u.mbers Before our nuptial night. Oft had I begg'd.

With sighs and tears, that this unequal match Might be diverted; but it might not be.

The fulness of his fortunes winged them To consummate the match: this pleased them, But me displeas'd, whom it concerned most.

FLO. The issue, madam?

MED. None; nor ever shall With that sear, suckless kex.

MOR. Never was lady So rarely beautifi'd, so highly wrong'd.

CAR. What flinty worldling[s] were those friends of yours To value fortunes more than your content!

PAL. To prost.i.tute your honour to a clod Of mould'red earth!

SAL. And in an icy bed To starve your blooming comforts?