Part 22

_Ant._ Come my dear _Mercury_, I'll bring you to your chamber, and then I am for you _Maria_, thou art a new wife to me now, and thou shalt find it e'r I sleep.

_Mer._ And I, an old ass to my self, mine own rod whips me,--good Sir, no more of this, 'tis tedious, you are the best guide in your own house--go Sir-- [_Exit_ Ant. _and_ Mer. This fool and his fair Wife have made me frantick From two such Physicks for the soul, deliver me. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Richardo, Uberto, Pedro, _and_ Silvio.

_Ub._ Well you must have this wench then.

_Ric._ I hope so, I am much o'th' bow-hand else.

_Ped._ Wou'd I were hang'd, 'tis a good loving little fool, that dares venture her self upon a coast she never knew yet, but these women, when they are once thirteen, god speed the plough.

_Sil._ Faith they'll venture further for their lading, than a Merchant, and through as many storms, but they'll be fraughted, they are mad[e] like _Carrecks_, only strength and storage.

_Ric._ Come, come, you talk, you talk.

_Sil._ We do so, but tell me _Richardo_, wot thou marry her?

_Ric._ Marry her? why, what should I do with her?

_Ped._ Pox, I thought we should have [had] all shares in her, like lawful prize.

_Ric._ No by my faith, Sir, you shall pardon me, I lanch'd her at my own charge, without partners and so I'll keep her.

_Ub._ What's the hour?

_Rich._ Twelve.

_Ub._ What shall we do the while? 'tis yet scarce eleven.

_Sil._ There's no standing here, is not this the place?

_Ric._ Yes.

_Ped._ And to go back unto her fathers house, may breed suspition, Let's slip into a Tavern, for an hour, 'tis very cold.

_Ub._ Content, there is one hard by, a quart of burnt sack will recover us, I am as cold as Christmas, this stealing flesh in the frosty weather, may be sweet i'th' eating, but sure the Woodmen have no great catch on't; Shall's go?

_Rich._ Thou art the strangest lover of a Tavern, What shall we do there now? lose the hour and our selves too.

_Ub._ Lose a pudding; What do'st thou talk of the hour; Will one quart muzle us? have we not ears to hear, and tongues to ask the Drawers, but we must stand here like bawds to watch the minutes?

_Sil._ Prethee content thy self, we shall scout here, as though we went a haying, and have some mangey prentice, that cannot sleep for scratching, over-hear us; Come, Will you go Sirs? when your love fury is a little frozen, you'll come to us.

_Ric._ Will you drink but one quart then?

_Ped._ No more i'faith.

_Sil._ Content.

_Ric._ Why then, have with you, but lets be very watchful.

_Ub._ As watchful as the Belman, come, I'll lead, because I hate good manners, they are too tedious. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Viola _with a Key, and a little Casket_.

The night is terrible, and I enclos'd With that my vertue and my self hate most, Darkness; yet must I fear that which I wish, Some company, and every step I take Sounds louder in my fearful ears to night Than ever did, the shrill and sacred bell That rang me to my prayers; the house will rise When I unlock the dore, were it by day I am bold enough, but then a thousand eyes Warne me from going, might not [God] have made A time for envious prying folk to sleep, Whilst lovers met, and yet the Sun have shone? Yet I was bold enough, to steal this key Out of my fathers Chamber, and dare yet Venture upon mine enemy, the night, Arm'd only with my love, to meet my friend Alas how valiant, and how fraid at once Love makes a Virgin! I will throw this key Back through a window, I had wealth enough In Jewels with me, if I hold his love I steal e'm for; farewell my place of birth, I never make account to look on thee again; And if there be, as I have heard men say, These houshold gods, I do beseech them look To this my charge, bless it from theeves and fire, And keep, till happily my love I win, Me from thy door, and hold my Father in. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Richardo, Pedro, Uberto, Silvio, _and_ Drawer _with a Candle_.

_Ric._ No more for Gods sake, how is the night boy?

_Draw._ Faith Sir, 'tis very late.

_Ub._ Faith, Sir, you lie, is this your jack i'th' clock-house? will you strike, Sir? gi's some more sack, you varlet.

_Ric._ Nay, if you love me, good _Uberto_ goe, I am monstrous hot with Wine.

_Ub._ Quench it again with love, Gentlemen, I will drink one health more, and then if my legs say me not shamefully nay, I will go with you, give me a singular quart.

_Draw._ Of what Wine Sir?

_Uber._ Of Sack, you that speak confusion at the bar, of Sack, I say, and every one his quart, what a Devil lets be merry.

_Draw._ You shall, Sir. [_Exit._

_Ped._ We will, Sir, and a dryed tongue.

_Sil._ And an Olive, boy, and a whole bunch of fidlers, my head swims plaguely, 'uds pretious I shall be clawd.

_Enter_ Drawer _with four quarts of wine_.

_Ric._ Pray go, I can drink no more, think on your promise, 'tis midnight Gentlemen.

_Ub._ O that it were dum midnight now, not a word more, every man on's knees, and betake himself to his saint, here's to your wench, seignior, all this, and then away.

_Rich._ I cannot drink it.

_Ped._ 'Tis a toy, a toy, away wo't.

_Uber._ Now dare I speak any thing, to any body living, come, Where's the fault? off with it.

_Ric._ I have broke my wind, Call you this Sack?--I wonder who made it? he was a sure workman, for 'tis plaguy strong work, Is it gone round?

_Ub._ 'Tis at the last, out of my way, good boy, Is the Moon up yet?

_Draw._ Yes, Sir.

_Ub._ Where is she boy?

_Draw._ There, Sir.

_Ub._ We shall have rain and thunder, boy.

_Draw._ When Sir?

_Ub._ I cannot tell, but sure we shall boy.

_Draw._ The Gentleman is Wine-wise.

_Uber._ Drawer?

_Draw._ Here, Sir.

_Ub._ Can you procure?

_Draw._ What Sir?

_Uber._ A Whore, or two or three, as need shall serve, boy?

_Sil._ I, a good Whore were worth money, boy.

_Draw._ I protest Sir, we are all together unprovided.

_Ric._ The mor's the pitty, boy, Can you not 'vize us where my Child?

[_Draw._ Neither, in troth sir.]

_Ped._ Why where were you brought up, boy? no inckling of a Whore? no aym my boy?

_Uber._ It cannot sink in my head now, that thou shouldst marry, Why shouldst thou marry, tell me?

_Rich._ I marry? I'll be hang'd first: some more wine boy.

_Sil._ Is she not a Whore translated? and she be, lets repair to her.

_Ric._ I cannot tell, she may be an offender; but signior _Silvio_, I shall scratch your head, indeed I shall.

_Sil._ Judge me, I do but jest with thee, what an she were inverted with her heeles upward, like a traitor's Coat? what care I.

_Ub._ I, hang her, Shall we fall out for her?

_Rich._ I am a little angry, but these wenches, Did you not talke of wenches?

_Sil._ Boy, lend me your Candle.

_Draw._ Why Sir?

_Sil._ To set fire to your rotten seeling, you'll keep no Whores, Rogue, no good members.

_Draw._ Whores, Sir.

_Sih._ I, Whores Sir, Do you think we come to lye with your hogsheads?

_Rich._ I must beat the watch, I have long'd for't any time this three weeks.

_Silv._ Wee'll beat the Town too, and thou wilt, we are proof boy; Shall [wee] kill any body?

_Rich._ No, but wee'll hurt 'em dangerously.

_Uber._ _Silv._ Now must I kill one, I cannot avoid it, boy, easily afore there with your candle; Where's your Mistriss?

_Draw._ A bed, Sir.

_Sil._ With whom?

_Draw._ With my Master.

_Uber._ You lye Boy, shee's better brought up than to lye with her husband, Has he not cast his head yet? next year he will be a velvet-headed Cuckold. [_Exeunt._

_Draw._ You are a merry Gentleman, there Sir, take hold.

_Enter_ Viola.

_Viola._ This is the place, I have out-told the Clock, For haste, he is not here. _Richardo_? no; Now every power that loves and is belov'd: Keep me from shame to night, for all you know Each thought of mine is innocent, and pure, As flesh and blood can hold: I cannot back; I threw the Key within, and ere I raise My Father up, to see his daughters shame, I'll set me down, and tell the Northern Wind, That it is gentler than the curling West; If it will blow me dead, but he will come; I'faith 'tis cold; if he deceive me thus, A woman will not easily trust a Man. Hark, What's that?

_Sil. within._ Th'art over long at thy pot, tom, tom, thou art over long at the pot tom.

_Viol._ Bless me! Whose that?

_Pedro within._ Whoo!

_Uber. within._ There Boyes.

_Viol._ Darkness be thou my cover, I must fly, To thee I haste for help--

_Enter_ Richardo, Pedro, Uberto, Drawer _with a Torch_.

_Viol._ They have a light, Wind, if thou lov'st a Virgin, blow it out, And I will never shut a window more, To keep thee from me.

_Rich._ Boy?

_Draw._ Sir.

_Rich._ Why Boy?

_Draw._ What say you, Sir?

_Rich._ Why Boy? Art thou drunk Boy?

_Draw._ What would you, Sir?

_Rich._ Why very good, Where are we?

_Uber._ I, that's the point.

_Draw._ Why Sir, you will be at your Lodging presently.

_Rich._ I'll go to no lodging Boy.

_Draw._ Whither will you go then, Sir?

_Rich._ I'll go no farther.

_Draw._ For Gods sake, Sir, do not stay here all night.

_Rich._ No more I will not, Boy, lay me down, and rowle me to a Whore.

_Uber._ And me.

_Ped._ There spoke an--

_Silvio._ Then set your foot to my foot, and up tailes all.

_Viola._ That is _Richardo_, what a noise they make! 'Tis ill done on 'em: here, Sirs, _Richardo_?

_Rich._ What's that Boy?

_Draw._ 'Tis a Wench, Sir, pray Gentlemen come away.

_Viol._ O my dear love! How doest thou?

_Rich._ [My] sweet heart? even as thou seest.

_Ped._ Where's thy Wench?

_Uber._ Where's this bed worme?

_Viol._ Speak softly for the love of heaven.

_Draw._ Mistriss, get you gone, and do not entice the Gentlemen, now you see they'r drunk, or I'll call the Watch, and lay you fast enough.

_Vio._ Alas, What are you? or, What do you mean? Sweet love, Where's the place?

_Ric._ Marry sweet love, e'en here, lye down, I'll feese [you].

_Vio._ Good God! What mean you?

_Ped._ I'll have the Wench.

_Uber._ If you can get her.

_Sil._ No, I'll lye with the Wench to night, and she shall be yours to morrow.

_Ped._ Let go the Wench.

_Sil._ Let you go the Wench.

_Viol._ O Gentlemen, as you had mothers!

_Uber._ They had no mothers; they are the Sons of bitches.

_Ric._ Let that be maintain'd.

_Sil._ Marry then.

_Viol._ Oh bless me heaven!

_Uber._ How many is there on's?

_Ric._ About five.

_Uber._ Why then lets fight three to three.

_Sil._ Content. [_Draw and fall down._

_Draw._ The Watch! the watch! the watch! Where are you? [_Exit._

_Ric._ Where are these Cowards?

_Ped._ There's the W[h]ore.

_Viol._ I never saw a drunken man before, But these I think are so.

_Sil._ Oh!

_Ped._ I mist you narrowly there.

_Viol._ My state is such, I know not how to think, A prayer fit for me, only I could move, That never Maiden more might be in love. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Drawer, Constable _and_ Watch.

_Watch._ Where are they, Boy?

_Draw._ Make no such haste, Sir, they are no runners.

_Ub._ I am hurt, but that's all one, I shall light upon some of ye. _Pedro_, thou art a tall Gentleman, let me kiss thee.

_Watch._ My friend.

_Uber._ Your friend? you lie.

_Ric._ Stand further off, the watch, you are full of fleas.

_Con._ Gentlemen, either be quiet, or we must make you quiet.

_Rich._ Nay, good Mr. Constable, be not so Rigorous.

_Uber._ Mr. Constable, lend me thy hand of Justice.

_Const._ That I will Sir.

_Uber._ Fy Mr. Constable, What golls you have! is Justice so blind [She] cannot see to wash your hands? I cry you Mercy, Sir; Your gloves are on.

_Draw._ Now you are up, Sir, Will you go to bed?

_Ped._ I'll truckle here, Boy, give me another pillow.

_Draw._ Will you stand up, and let me lay it on then?

_Ped._ Yes.

_Draw._ There hold him two of ye, now they are up, be going Mr. Constable.

_Rich._ And this way, and that way, tom.

_Uber._ And here away, and there away, tom.

_Silv._ This is the right way, the others the wrong.

_Ped._ Th' others the wrong.

_All._ Thou art over-long at the pot, tom, tom.

_Rich._ Lead valiantly, sweet Constable, whoop! ha Boyes.

_Const._ This Wine hunts in their heads.

_Rich._ Give me the bill, for I'll be the Sergeant.

_Const._ Look to him, Sirs.

_Rich._ Keep your Ranks, you Rascalls, keep your Ranks. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Secundus. Scaena Prima._

_Enter_ Mercury.

_Mer._ I cannot sleep for thinking of this Asses Wife, I'll be gon presently, there's no staying here, with this Devil about me; hoe, this is the house of sleep, hoe! again there, 'sfoot, the darkness, and this love together, will make me lunatick; ho!

_Enter a Servingman above unready._

_Ser._ Who calls there?

_Mer._ Pray take the pains to rise and light a candle.

_Ser._ Presently.

_Mer._ Was ever man but I in such a stocks? well, this shall be a warning to me, and a fair one too, how I betray my self to such a Dunce, by way of benefit.

_Enter_ Servingman.

_Ser._ Did you call?

_Mer._ Yes, pray do me the kindness, Sir, to let me out, and not [to] enquire why, for I must needs be gone.

_Ser._ Not to night, I hope, Sir,

_Mer._ Good Sir to night, I would not have troubled you else, pray let it be so.

_Ser._ Alas, Sir, my Master will be offended.

_Mer._ That I have business? no I warrant ye.

_Ser._ Good Sir take your rest.

_Mer._ Pray my good friend let me appoint my own rest.

_Ser._ Yes, Sir.

_Mer._ Then shew me the way out, I'll consider you.

_Ser._ Good Lord, Sir.

_Mer._ If I had not an excellent temper'd patience, now should I break this fellows head, and make him understand 'twere necessary; the onely plague of this house is the unhandsome love of servants, that ne'er do their duty in the right place, but when they muster before dinner, and sweep the Table with a wodden dagger, and then they are troublesome too, to all mens shoulders, the Woodcocks flesht agen, now I shall have a new stir.

_Enter_ Antonio.

_Ant._ Why how now friend? What do you up so late? are you well? Do you want any thing? pray speak.

_Mer._ Onely the cause I rise for.

_Ant._ What knaves are these? What do you want? why Sirrah?

_Mer._ Nothing i'th' World, but the keyes to let me out of dores; I must be gon, be not against it, for you cannot stay me.

_Ant._ Be gon at this time? that were a merry jest.

_Mer._ If there be any mirth in't, make you use on't, but I must go.

_Ant._ Why for loves sake?

_Mer._ 'Twill benefit your understanding nothing to know the cause, pray go to bed, I'll trouble your Man only.

_Ant._ Nay, Sir, you have rais'd more, that has reason to curse you, and you knew all, my Wifes up, and coming down too.

_Mer._ Alas, it will be a trouble, pray go up to her, and let me disturbe no more, 'tis unmannerly.

_Enter_ Wife _as out of her [b]ed_.

_Ant._ Shee's here already; sweet heart: How say you by this Gentleman? he would away at midnight.

_Wife._ That I am sure he will not.

_Mer._ Indeed I must.

_Mar._ Good Sir let not your homely entertainment press you to leave your bed at midnight; if you want, what my house or our town may afford you, make it your own fault if you call not for it; pray go to bed again; let me compel you, I am sure you have no power to deny a Woman; the ayr is piercing, and to a body beaten with long travel, 'twill prove an ill Physitian.

_Mer._ If she speak longer I shall be a knave, as rank as ever sweat for't; Sir, if you will send your Wife up presently, I will either stay with you, d'ye mark me, or deliver you, so just a cause, that you your self, shall thrust me out of dores, both suddenly, and willingly.

_Ant._ I would fain hear that 'faith, pray thee go up sweet heart, I have half perswaded him, besides, he hath some private business with me.

_Mar._ Good night, Sir, and what content you would have, I wish with you. [_Exit._

_Mer._ Could any man that had a back ask more! O me! O me!

_Ant._ Now deal directly with me: Why should you go?

_Mer._ If you be wise do not enquire the cause, 'twill trouble you:

_Ant._ Why? prithee why?

_Mer._ 'Faith I would not have you know it, let me go, 'twill be far better for you.

_Ant._ Who's that, that knocks there? i'st not at the street door?

_Ser._ Yes, Sir.

_Ant._ Who's there, cannot you speak?

_Within Vio._ A poor distressed Maid, for gods sake let me in.

_Mer._ Let her in and me out together, 'tis but one labor, 'tis pity she should stand i'th' street, it seems she knows you.

_Ant._ There she shall stand for me, you are ignorant; this is a common custome of the Rogues that lie about the loose parts of the City.

_Mer._ As how?

_Ant._ To knock at doors in dead time of night, and use some feigned voice to raise compassion, and when the doors are open, in they rush, and cut the throats of all, and take the booty, we cannot be too careful.

_Within Vi._ As ever you had pity let me in, I am undone else.

_Ant._ Who are you?

_Vio._ My name is _Viola_, a Gentlewoman, that ill chance hath distressed, you know my Father.

_Mer._ Alas of god we'll let her in, 'tis one of the Gentlewomen were here i'th' evening, I know her by her name, (poor soul) shee's cold I warrant her, let her have my warme Bed, and I'll take her fortune; come, pray come.

_Ant._ It is not _Viola_, that's certain, she went home to her Fathers, I am sure.

_Via._ Will not you be so good to let me in?

_Ant._ I'll be so good to have you whipt away if you stay a little longer: Shee's gone I warrant her, now let me know your cause, for I will hear it, and not repent the knowing.

_Mer._ Since you are so importunate, I'll tell you, I love your Wife extreamly.

_Ant._ Very well.

_Mer._ And so well that I dare not stay.

_Ant._ Why?

_Mer._ For wronging you, I know I am flesh and blood, and you have done me friendships infinite and often, that must require me honest, and a true Man, and I will be so, or I'll break my heart.

_Ant._ Why, you may stay for all this, methinks.

_Mer._ No, though I wood be good, I am no saint, nor is it safe to try me, I deal plainly.

_Ant._ Come, I dare try you, do the best you can.

_Mer._ You shall not, when I am right agen, I'll come and see you, till when, I'll use all Countryes, and all means, but I will lose this folly, 'tis a Divel.

_Ant._ Is there no way to stay you?

_Mer._ No, unless you will have me such a villain to you, as all men shall spit at me.

_Ant._ Do's she know you love her?

_Mer._ No, I hope not, that were recompence fit for a Rogue to render her.

_Ant._ If ever any had a faithful friend, I am that Man, and I may glory in't, this is he, that _ipse_, he that passes all Christendome for goodness, he shall not over goe me in his friendship, 'twere recreant and base, and I'll be hang'd first, I am resolv'd, go thy wayes, a Wife [shall] never part us: I have consider'd, and I find her nothing to such a friend as thou art; I'll speak a bold world, take your time and woe her, you have overcome me clearly, and do what's fitting with her, you conceive me, I am glad at heart you love her: by this light, ne're stare upon me, for I will not flye from it, if you had spoken sooner, sure you had been serv'd; Sir, you are not every Man, now to your taske, I give you free leave, and the sin is mine if there be any in it.

_Mer._ He will be hang'd before he makes this good, he cannot be so innocent a Coxcombe, he can tell ten sure, if I had never known you as I have done, I might be one, as others perhaps sooner, but now 'tis impossible, there's too much good between us.

_Ant._ Well, thou art e'en the best man--I can say no more, I am, so over-joy'd, you must stay this night, and in the morning go as early as you please, I have a toy for you.

_Mer._ I thought this pill would make you sick.

_Ant._ But where you mean to be I must have notice, And it must be hard by too, do you mark me?

_Mer._ Why, What's the matter?

_Ant._ There is a thing in hand.

_Mer._ Why? What thing?

_Ant._ A sound one, if it take right, and you be not peevish. We two will be--you would little think it; as famous for our friendship--

_Mer._ How?

_Ant._ If [God] please, as ever _Damon_ was, and _Pytheas_; or _Pylades_ and _Orestes_, or any two that ever were: do you conceive me yet?

_Mer._ No, by my troth, Sir; he will not help me up sure.

_Ant._ You shall anon, and for our names, I think they shall live after us, and be remember'd while there is a story; or [I] lose my aime.

_Mer._ What a vengeance ailes he? How do you?

_Ant._ Yes faith, we two will be such friends, as the world shall ring of.

_Mer._ And why is all this?

_Ant._ You shall enjoy my wife.

_Mer._ Away, away.

_Ant._ The wonder must begin, so I have cast it, 'twill be scurvy else, you shall not stir a foot in't, pray be quiet till I have made it perfect.

_Mer._ What shall a Man do with this wretched fellow? there is no mercy to be used towards him, he is not capable of any pitty, he will in spight of course be a Cuckold, And who can help it? must it begin so needs Sir?--think agen.

_Ant._ Yes marry must it, and I my self will woe this woman for you, Do you perceive it now? ha?

_Mer._ Yes, now I have a little sight ith' matter; O that thy head should be so monstrous, that all thy Servants hats may hang upon't! but do you meane to do this?

_Ant._ Yes certain, I will woe her, and for you, strive not against it, 'tis the overthrow of the best plot that ever was then.

_Mer._ Nay, I'll assure you, Sir, I'll do no harm, you have too much about you of your own.

_Ant._ Have you thought of a place yet?

_Mer._ A place?

_Ant._ I a place where you will bide, prethee no more of this modesty, 'tis foolish, and we were not determin'd to be absolute friends indeed, 'twere tolerable.

_Mer._ I have thought, and you shall hear from me.

_Ant._ Why, this will gain me everlasting glory; I have the better of him, that's my comfort, good night. [_Exit._

_Mer._ Good night, well go thy wayes, thou art the tydiest wittall this day I think above ground, and yet thy end for all this must be mottly. [_Exit._

_Enter a_ Tinker _with a Cord, and_ Dorothy.

_Tink._ 'Tis b[i]tter cold; a plague upon these Rogues, how wary they are grown! not a door open now, but double barr'd; not a Window, but up with a case of wood like a spice box, and their locks unpickable, the very Smiths that were half venture[r]s, drink penitent, single Ale, this is the Iron age, the Ballad sings of; well, I shall meet with some of our loose Linnen yet, good fellows must not starve; here's he shall shew God a mighties dog bolts, if this hold.

_Dorothy._ Faith thou art but too merciful, that's thy fault, thou art as sweet a Thief, that sin excepted, as ever suffer'd, that's a proud word, and I'll maintain it.

_Tinck._ Come, prethee let's shogg off, and browze an hour or two, there's Ale will make a Cat speak, at the harrow, we shall get nothing now, without we batter, 'tis grown too near morning, the Rogues sleep sober, and are watchful.

_Dorit._ We want a Boy extreamly for this function, kept under for a year, with milk, and knot-grass; in my time I have seen a boy do wonders; _Robbin_ the red Tinker had a Boy, Rest his Soul, he suffer'd this time 4 years, for two Spoons, and a Pewter Candlestick, that sweet Man had a Boy, as I am Curstend Whore, would have run through a Cat hole, he would have boulted such a piece of Linen in an evening--