Chapter 13

_A Room in Mistress Mary's House_.

_Enter_ MISTRESS MARY, YOUNG MASTER ARTHUR, BRABO, _and_ MISTRESS SPLAY.

MRS MA. Not have my will! yes, I will have my will; Shall I not go abroad but when you please? Can I not now and then meet with my friends, But, at my coming home, you will control me? Marry, come up!

Y. ART. Where art thou, patience? Nay, rather, where's become my former spleen? I had a wife would not have us'd me so.

MRS MA. Why, you Jacksauce! you cuckold! you what-not! What, am I not of age sufficient To go and come still, when my pleasure serves, But must I have you, sir, to question me? Not have my will! yes, I will have my will.

Y. ART. I had a wife would not have us'd me so; But she is dead.

BRA. Not have her will, sir! she shall have her will: She says she will, and, sir, I say she shall. Not have her will! that were a jest indeed; Who says she shall not? if I be dispos'd To man her forth, who shall find fault with it? What's he that dare say black's her eye?[21] Though you be married, sir, yet you must know, That she was ever born to have her will.

MRS SPLAY. Not have her will! God's passion! I say still, A woman's nobody that wants her will.

Y. ART. Where is my spirit? what, shall I maintain A strumpet with a Brabo and her bawd, To beard me out of my authority? What, am I from a master made a slave?

MRS MA. A slave? nay, worse; dost thou maintain my man, And this my maid? 'tis I maintain them both. I am thy wife; I will not be dress'd so, While thy gold lasts; but then most willingly I will bequeath thee to flat beggary. I do already hate thee; do thy worst; [_He threatens her_. Nay, touch me, if thou dar'st; what, shall he beat me?

BRA. I'll make him seek his fingers 'mongst the dogs, That dares to touch my mistress; never fear, My sword shall smoothe the wrinkles of his brows, That bends a frown upon my mistress.

Y. ART. I had a wife would not have us'd me so: But God is just.

MRS MA. Now, Arthur, if I knew What in this world would most torment thy soul, That I would do; would all my evil usage Could make thee straight despair and hang thyself! Now, I remember:--where is Arthur's man, Pipkin? that slave! go, turn him out of doors; None that loves Arthur shall have house-room here.

_Enter_ PIPKIN.

Yonder he comes; Brabo, discard the fellow.

Y. ART. Shall I be over-master'd in my own? Be thyself, Arthur:--strumpet! he shall stay.

MRS MA. What! shall he, Brabo? shall he, Mistress Splay?

BRA. Shall he? he shall not: breathes there any living Dares say he shall, when Brabo says he shall not?

Y. ART. Is there no law for this? she is my wife; Should I complain, I should be rather mock'd. I am content; keep by thee whom thou list. Discharge whom thou think'st good; do what thou wilt, Rise, go to bed, stay at home, or go abroad At thy good pleasure, keep all companies; So that, for all this, I may have but peace. Be unto me as I was to my wife; Only give me, what I denied her then, A little love, and some small quietness-- If he displease thee, turn him out of doors.

PIP. Who, me? Turn me out of doors? Is this all the wages I shall have at the year's end, to be turned out of doors? You, mistress! you are a--

MRS SPLAY. A what? speak, a what? touch her and touch me, taint her and taint me; speak, speak, a what?

PIP. Marry, a woman that is kin to the frost.[22]

MRS SPLAY. How do you mean that?

PIP. And you are akin to the Latin word, to understand.

MRS SPLAY. And what's that?

PIP. _Subaudi, subaudi_? and, sir, do you not use to pink doublets?

MRS SPLAY. And why?

PIP. I took you for a cutter, you are of a great kindred; you are a common cozener, everybody calls you cousin; besides, they say you are a very good warrener, you have been an old coneycatcher: but, if I be turned a-begging, as I know not what I am born to, and that you ever come to the said trade, as nothing is unpossible, I'll set all the commonwealth of beggars on your back, and all the congregation of vermin shall be put to your keeping; and then if you be not more bitten than all the company of beggars besides, I'll not have my will: zounds! turned out of doors! I'll go and set up my trade; a dish to drink in, that I have within; a wallet, that I'll make of an old shirt; then my speech, For the Lord's sake, I beseech your worship; then I must have a lame leg; I'll go to football and break my shins--and I am provided for that.

BRA. What! stands the villain prating? hence, you slave!

[_Exit_ PIPKIN.

Y. ART. Art thou yet pleas'd?

MRS MA. When I have had my humour.

Y. ART. Good friends, for manners' sake awhile withdraw.

BRA. It is our pleasure, sir, to stand aside.

[MISTRESS SPLAY _and_ BRABO _stand aside_.

Y. ART. Mary, what cause hast thou to use me thus? From nothing I have rais'd thee to much wealth; 'Twas more than I did owe thee: many a pound, Nay, many a hundred pound, I spent on thee In my wife's time; and once, but by my means, Thou hadst been in much danger: but in all things My purse and credit ever bare thee out. I did not owe thee this. I had a wife, That would have laid herself beneath my feet To do me service; her I set at nought For the entire affection I bare thee. To show that I have lov'd thee, have I not, Above all women, made chief choice of thee? An argument sufficient of my love! What reason then hast thou to wrong me thus?

MRS MA. It is my humour.

Y. ART. O, but such humours honest wives should purge: I'll show thee a far greater instance yet Of the true love that I have borne to thee. Thou knew'st my wife: was she not fair?

MRS MA. So, so.

Y. ART. But more than fair: was she not virtuous? Endued with the beauty of the mind?

MRS MA. Faith, so they said.

Y. ART. Hark, in thine ear: I'll trust thee with my life, Than which what greater instance of my love: Thou knew'st full well how suddenly she died? T'enjoy thy love, even then I poison'd her!

MRS MA. How! poison'd her? accursed murderer! I'll ring this fatal 'larum in all ears, Than which what greater instance of my hate?

Y. ART. Wilt thou not keep my counsel?

MRS MA. Villain, no! Thou'lt poison me, as thou hast poison'd her.

Y. ART. Dost thou reward me thus for all my love? Then, Arthur, fly, and seek to save thy life! O, difference 'twixt a chaste and unchaste wife! [_Exit_.

MRS MA. Pursue the murd'rer, apprehend him straight.

BRA. Why, what's the matter, mistress?

MRS MA. This villain Arthur poison'd his first wife, Which he in secret hath confess'd to me; Go and fetch warrants from the justices T'attach the murd'rer; he once hang'd and dead, His wealth is mine: pursue the slave that's fled.

BRA. Mistress, I will; he shall not pass this land, But I will bring him bound with this strong hand.

[_Exeunt_.