Part 19

_Long._ I think thou art his Porter, Set here to answer creditors, that his Lordship Is not within, or takes the diet: I am sent, And will grow here until I have an answer, Not to demand a debt of money, but To call him to a strict account for wrong Done to the honors of a Gentleman, Which nothing but his heart-bloud shall wash off.

_Dub._ Shall I hear this?

_Long._ And more, that if [I] may not Have access to him, I will fix this here To his disgrace and thine.

_Dub._ And thy life with it.

_Long._ Then have the copies of it pasted on posts, Like Pamphlet Titles, that sue to be sold; Have his disgrace talk for Tobacco-shops, His picture baffled.

_Dub._ All respect away, wer't in a Church-- [_draw both._

_Long._ This is the Book I pray with.

_Enter Orleance._

_Orl._ Forbear upon your lives.

_Long._ What are you rouz'd? I hope your Lordship can read (though he stain not his birth with Scholar-ship) doth it not please you now? if you are a right _Mounsieur_, muster up the rest of your attendance, which is a Page, a Cook, a Pander, Coach-man, and a Footman, in these days a great Lords train, pretending I am unworthy to bring you a challenge, instead of answering it, have me kick'd.

_Dub._ If he does, thou deserv'st it.

_Long._ I dare you all to touch me, I'll not stand still, What answer?

_Orl._ That thou hast done to _Amiens_ The office of a faithful friend, which I Would cherish in thee, were he not my foe, How ever since on honourable terms He calls me forth, say I will meet with him, And by _Dubois_ e'r Sun-set make him know The time and place, my swords length, and what ever Scruple of circumstance he can expect.

_Long._ This answer comes unlookt for, fare you well, Finding your temper thus, wou'd I had said less. [_Exit._

_Orl._ Now comes thy love to the test.

_Dub._ My Lord, 'twill hold, And in all dangers prove it self true Gold. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Laverdine, La-poop, Malicorn, _servant_.

_Ser._ I will acquaint my Lady with your coming. Please you repose your selves here.

_Mal._ There's a Tester, nay, now I am a wooer, I must be bountiful.

_Ser._ If you would have two three-pences for it Sir, To give some of your kindred as you ride, I'll see if I can get them; we use not (tho servants) to take bribes. [_Ex._

_Lav._ Then thou art unfit to be in office, either in Court or City.

_La-p._ Indeed, corruption is a Tree, whose branches are of an unmeasurable length, they spread every where, and the dew, that drops from thence, hath infected some chairs and stools of authority.

_Mal._ Ah Captain! lay not all the fault upon Officers, you know you can shark, tho you be out of action, witness _Montague_.

_Lav._ Hang him, he's safe enough; you had a hand in it too, and have gained by him; but I wonder you Citizens, that keep so many books, and take such strict accounts for every farthing due to you from others, reserve not so much as a memorandum for the courtesies you receive.

_Mal._ Would you have a Citizen book those? thankfulness is a thing, we are not sworn to in our Indentures: you may as well urge conscience.

_Lav._ Talk no more of such vanities, _Mountague_ is irrecoverably sunk, I would we had twenty more to send after him; the Snake that would be a Dragon, and have wings, must eat; and what implies that, but this, that in this _Cannibal_ age, he that would have the sute of wealth, must not care ---- whom he feeds on? and as I have heard, no flesh battens better, then that of a profest friend; and he that would mount to honor, must not make dainty to use the head of his mother, back of his Father, or neck of his Brother, for ladders to his preferment; for, but observe, and you shall find for the most part, cunning villany sit at a Feast as principal guest, and innocent honesty wait as a contemn'd servant with a trencher.

_La-p._ The Ladies.

_Enter_ Montague _bare-headed_, Lamira, _Lady_ Orleance, Charlotte _a[n]d_ V[e]ramour.

_Mont._ Do ye smell nothing?

_Char._ Not I Sir.

_Mont._ The carrion of knaves is very strong in my nostrils.

_Lav._ We came to admire, and find Fame was a niggard, Which we thought prodigal in our report Before we saw you.

_Lam._ Tush Sir, this Courtship's old.

_La-p._ I'll fight for thee, sweet wench, This is my tongue, and woes for me.

_Lam._ Good man of War, Hands off; if you take me, it must be by siege, Not by an onset; and for your valour, I Think that I have de[ser]ved few enemies, And therefore need it not.

_Mal._ Thou need'st nothing, sweet Lady, but an obsequious husband, and where wilt thou find him, if not in the City? We are true _Muscovites_ to our Wives, and are never better pleased, than when they use us as slaves, bridle and Saddle us; Have me, thou shalt command all my wealth as thine own, thou shalt sit like a Queen in my Ware-house; And my Factors at the return with my ships, shall pay thee tribute of all the rarities of the earth; thou shalt wear gold, feed on delicates, the first Peascods, Strawberries, Grapes, Cherries shall--

_Lam._ Be mine; I apprehend what you would say, Those dainties which the City pays so dear for, The Countrey yields for nothing, and as early; And, credit me, your far-fet viands please not My appetite better than those that are near hand. Then for your promis'd service and subjection To all my humors, when I am your wife, Which [as] it seems, is frequent in the City, I cannot find what pleasure they receive In using their fond Husbands like their Maids; But of this, more hereafter: I accept Your proffer kindly, and yours; my house stands open To entertain you, take your pleasure in it, And ease after your journey.

_La. Orl._ Do you note the boldness of the fellows?

_Lam._ Alas Madam, a Virgin must in this be like a Lawyer, And as he takes all Fees; she must hear all suitors; the One for gain, the other for her mirth; stay with the Gentlemen, we'll to the Orchards.

[_Exeunt_ Lamira, _Lady_ Orleance, Vera. _and_ Charl.

_La-p._ ---- What art thou?

_Mont._ An honest man, though poor; And look they like to monsters, are they so rare?

_Lav._ Rose from the dead.

_Mal._ Do you hear Monsieur _Serviture_, didst thou never hear of one _Montague_, a prodigal gull, that lives about _Paris_?

_Mont._ So Sir.

_Lav._ One that after the loss of his main estate in a Lawsute, bought an Office in the Court.

_La-p._ And should have Letters of _Mart_, to have the _Spanish_ treasure as it came from the _Indies_; were not thou and he twins? put off thy Hat, let me see thy Fore-head.

_Mont._ Though you take priviledge to use your tongue[s], I pray you hold your fingers, 'Twas your base cozenag[e] made me as I am: And were you somewhere else, I would take off This proud film from your eyes, that will not let you, Know I am _Montague_.

_Enter_ Lamira _behind the Arras_.

_Lam._ I will observe this better.

_Lav._ And art thou he? I will do thee grace; give me thy hand: I am glad thou hast taken so good a course; serve God, and please thy Mistriss; if I prove to be thy Master, as I am very like[l]y, I will do for thee.

_Mal._ Faith the fellow's well made for a Serving-man, and will no doubt, carry a chine of Beef with a good grace.

_La-p._ Prethee be careful of me in my chamber, I will remember thee at my departure.

_Mont._ All this I can endure under this roof, And so much owe I her, whose now I am, That no wrong shall incense me to molest, Her quiet house, while you continue here, I will not be ashamed to do you service More than to her, because such is her pleasure. But you that have broke thrice, and fourteen times Compounded for two shillings in the pound, Know I dare kick you in your shop; do you hear? If ever I see _Paris_, though an Army Of musty Murrions, rusty brown Bills and Clubs, Stand for your guard--I have heard of your tricks, And you that smell of Amber at my charge, And triumph in your cheat; well, I may live To meet thee, be it among a troop of such That are upon the fair face of the Court Like running Ulcers, and before thy whore Trampel upon thee.

_La-p._ This a language for a Livery? take heed, I am a Captain.

_Mont._ A Coxcomb are you not? that thou and I, To give proof, which of us dares most, were now In midst of a rough Sea, upon a piece Of a split Ship, where only one might ride,

[Lamira _from the Arras_.

I would--but foolish anger makes me talk Like a Player.

_Lam._ Indeed you act a part Doth ill become you my servant; is this your duty?

_Mont._ I crave your pardon, and will hereafter be more circumspect.

_Lav._ Oh the power of a Womans tongue: it hath done more than we three with our swords durst undertake; put a mad man to silence.

_Lam._ Why sirrah, these are none of your comrades To drink with in the Cellar; one of them For ought you know, may live to be your Master.

_La-p._ There's some comfort yet.

_Lam._ Here's choice of three, a wealthy Merchant.

_Mal._ Hem, she's taken, she hath spy'd my good Calf, And many Ladies chuse their Husbands by that.

_Lam._ A Courtier that's in grace, a valiant Captain, And are these mates for you, away, begone.

_Mont._ I humbly pray you will be pleased to pardon, And to give satisfaction to you Madam, (Although I break my heart) I will confess That I have wrong'd them too, and make submission.

_Lam._ No I'll spare that; go bid the Cook haste supper. [_Exit_ Mont.

_La-p._ Oh brave Lady, thou art worthy to have servants, to be commandress of a Family, that knowest how to use and govern it.

_Lav._ You shall have many Mistresses that will so mistake, as to take their Horse-keepers, and Footmen instead of their Husbands, thou art none of those.

_Mal._ But she that can make distinction of men, and knows when she hath gallants, and fellows of rank and quality in her house--

_Lam._ Gallants indeed, if it be the Gallants fashion To triumph in the miseries of a man, Of which they are the cause: one that transcends (In spight of all that fortune hath, or can be done) A million of such things as you, my doors Stand open to receive all such as wear The shape of Gentlemen, and my gentl[i]er nature (I might say weaker) weighs not the expence Of entertainment; think you I'll forget yet What's due unto my self? do not I know, That you have dealt with poor _Montague_, but like Needy Commanders, cheating Citizens, And perjur'd Courtiers? I am much mov'd, else use not To say so much, if you will bear your selves As fits such, you would make me think you are, You may stay; if not, the way lies before you. [_Exit._

_Mal._ What think you of this Captain?

_La-p._ That this is a bawdy-house, with Pinacles and Turrets, in which this disguised _Montague_ goes to Rut _gratis_, and that this is a landed pandress, and makes her house a brothel for charity.

_Mal._ Come, that's no miracle; but from whence derive you the supposition?

_Lav._ Observe but the circumstance; you all know that in the height of _Mountagues_ prosperity, he did affect, and had his love return'd by this Lady _Orleans_; since her divorcement, and his decay of estate, it is known they have met, not so much as his boy [is] wanting; and that this can be any thing else than a meer plot for their night-work, is above my imagination to conceive.

_Mal._ Nay, it carries probability, let us observe it better, but yet with such caution, as our prying be not discovered; here's all things to be had without cost, and therefore good staying here.

_La-p._ Nay, that's true, I would we might wooe her twenty years, like _Penelopes_ sutors; come _Laverdine_.

[_Exeunt_ Malli. La Poop.

_Lav._ I follow instantly, yonder he is.

_Enter_ Viramor.

The thought of this boy hath much cool'd my affection to his Lady, and by all conjectures, this is a disguised whore; I will try if I can search this Mine, Page--

_Ver._ Your pleasure, Sir?

_Lav._ Thou art a pretty boy.

_Ver._ And you a brave man: now I am out of your debt.

_Lav._ Nay, prethee stay.

_Ver._ I am in haste, Sir.

_Lav._ By the faith of a Courtier.

_Ver._ Take heed what you say, you have taken a strange oath.

_Lav._ I have not seen a youth that hath pleased me better; I would thou couldst li[k]e me, so far as to leave thy Lady and wait on me, I would maintain thee in the bravest cloaths.

_Ver._ Though you took them up on trust, or bought 'em at the Brokers.

_Lav._ Or any way: then thy imployments should be so neat and cleanly, thou shouldst not touch a pair of pantables in a month, and thy lodging--

_Ver._ Should be in a brothel.

_Lav._ No, but in mine arms.

_Ver._ That may be the circle of a Bawdy-house, or worse.

_Lav._ I mean thou should'st lye with me.

_Ver._ Lie with you? I had rather lye with my Ladies Monkey; 'twas never a good world, since our French Lords learned of the _Neapolitans_, to make their Pages their Bed-fellows, doth more hurt to the Suburb Ladies, than twenty dead vacations; 'Tis supper time, Sir. [_Exit_ Veram.

_Lav._ I thought so, I know by that 'tis a woman, for because, peradventure she hath made trial of the Monkey, she prefers him before me, as one unknown; well, these are standing creatures, and have strange desires; and men must use strange means to quenc[h] strange fires. [_Exit._

_Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Montague _alone in mean habit_.

_Mont._ Now _Montague_, who discerns thy spirit now? Thy breeding, or thy bloud? here's a poor cloud Eclipseth all thy splendor; who can read In thy pale face, dead eye, or _lenten shute_, The liberty thy ever-giving hand Hath bought for others, manacling it self In gyves of parchment indissoluble? The greatest hearted man supplyed with means, Nobility of birth and gentlest parts, I thought the right hand of his Sovereign, If virtue quit her seat in his high soul, Glitters but like a Palace set on fire, Whose glory whilst it shines, but ruins him, And his bright show each hour to ashes tending Shall at the last be rak'd up like a sparkle, Unless mens lives and fortunes feed the flame. Not for my own wants, though blame I my Stars, But suffering others to cast love on me, When I can neither take, nor thankful be. My Ladies woman, fair and virtuous Young as the present month, sollicites me For love and marriage now being nothing worth--

_Enter_ Veramour.

_Ver._ Oh! Master, I have sought you a long hour, Good faith, I never joy'd out of your sight; For Heavens sake, Sir, be merry, or else bear The buffets of your fortunes with more scorn; Do but begin to rail, teach me the way, And I'll sit down, and help your anger forth: I have known you wear a suit; full worth a Lordship, Give to a man whose need ne'er frighted you From calling of him friend, five hundred Crowns E'er sleep had left your sences to consider Your own important present uses; yet Since I have seen you with a t[r]encher wait, Void of all scorn, therefore I'll wait on you.

_Mont._ Would [God] thou wert less honest.

_Ver._ Would to [God] you were less worthy: I am ev'n w'e Sir.

_Mon._ Is not thy Master strangely fall'n, when thou Servest for no wages, but for charity? Thou dost surcharge me with thy plenteous love: The goodness of thy virtue shown to me, More opens still my disability To quit thy pains: credit me loving boy, A free and honest nature may be opprest, Tir'd with courtesies from a liberal spirit, When they exceed his means of gratitude.

_Ver._ But 'tis a due in him that to that end Extends his love or duty.

_Mont._ Little world Of virtue, why dost love and follow me?

_Ver._ I will follow you through all Countreys, I'll run (fast as I can) by your horse side, I'll hold your stirrop when you do alight, And without grudging, wait till you return: I'll quit offer'd means, and expose my self To cold and hunger, still to be with you; Fearless I'll travel through a wilderness, And when you are weary, I will lay me down That in my bosom you may rest your head, Where whilst you sleep, I'll watch, that no wild beast Shall hurt or trouble you: and thus we'll breed a story To make every hearer weep, When they disco[u]rse our fortunes and our loves.

_Mont._ Oh what a scoff might men of women make, If they did know this boy? but my desire Is, that thou wouldest not (as thou usest still: When like a servant, I 'mong servants sit) Wait on my Trencher, fill my cups with Wine: Why should'st thou do this boy? prethee consider, I am not what I was.

_Ver._ Curst be the day when I forget that _Montague_ was my Lord, or not remember him my Master still.

_Mont._ Rather curse me, with whom thy youth hath spent, So many hours, and yet untaught to live By any worldly quality.

_Ver._ Indeed you never taught me how to handle Cards To cheat and cozen men with oaths and lies: Those are the worldly qualities to live: Some of our scarlet Gallants teach their boys These worldly qualities. Since stumbling fortune then leaves virtue thus Let me leave fortune, e'r be vicious.

_Mon._ Oh lad, thy love will kill me.

_Ver._ In truth, I think in conscience [I] shall dye for you: Good Master weep not, do you want aught, Sir? Will you have any money, here's some Silver; And here's a little Gold, 'twill serve to play, And put more troublesome thoughts out of your mind: I pray Sir take it, I'll get more with singing. And then I'll bring it you, my Lady ga't me, And--it was not covetousness, But I forgot to tell you sooner on't.

_Mont._ Alas boy, thou art not bound to tell it me, And less to give it, buy thee Scarfs and Garters, And when I have money, I will give thee a sword: Nature made thee a beauteous Cabinet To lock up [all] the goodness of the earth.

_Enter Charlote._

_Ver._ I have lost my voice with the very sight of this Gentlewoman: good Sir steal away, you were wont to be a curious avoider of womens company.

_Mont._ Why boy, thou dar'st trust me any where, dar'st thou not?

_Ver._ I had rather trust you by a roaring Lion, than a ravening woman.

_Mont._ Why boy?

_Ver._ Why truly she devours more mans flesh--

_Mont._ I, but she roars not boy.

_Ver._ No Sir, why she is never silent but when her mouth is full.

_Charl._ Monsieur _Montague_.

_Mont._ My sweet fellow, since you please to call me so.

_Ver._ Ah my conscience, she wou'd be pleas'd well enough to call you bed-fellow: oh Master, do not hold her by the hand so: a woman is a Lime-bush, that catcheth all she toucheth.

_Charl._ I do most dangerously suspect this boy to be a wench; art thou not one? come hither, let me feel thee.

_Ver._ With all my heart.

_Charl._ Why dost thou pull off thy Glove?

_Ver._ Why, to feel whether you be a boy, or no.

_Charl._ Fie boy, go too. I'll not look your head, nor comb your locks any more, if you talk thus.

_Ver._ Why, I'll sing to you no more then.

_Charl._ Fie upon't, how sad you are! a young Gentleman that was the very Sun of _France_.

_Mont._ But I am in the eclipse now.

_Cha[r]l._ Suffer himself to be over-run with a Lethargy of melancholy and discontent! rouze up thy spirit, man, and shake it off:

A Noble Soul is like a Ship at Sea, That sleeps at Anchor when the Ocean's calm; But when she rages, and the wind blows high, He cuts his way with skill and Majesty. I would turn a Fool, or Poet, or any thing, or marry, to make you merry; prethee let's walk: good _Veramour_, leave thy Master and me, I have earnest business with him.

_Ver._ Pray do you leave my Master, and me: we were very merry before you came, he does not covet womens company.

What have you to do with him? come Sir will you go? And I'll sing to you again:

I'faith his mind is stronger than to credit Womens vows, and too pure to be capable of their loves.

_Charl._ The boy is jealo[u]s, sweet lad leave us: my Lady call'd for you I swear: that's a good child, there's a piece of Gold for thee, go buy a Feather.

_Ver._ There's two pieces for you, do you go and buy one, or what you will, or nothing, so you go. Nay then I see you would have me go, Sir; why, I'faith I will, now I perceive you love her better than you do me; but [God] bless you whatever you do, or intend, I know you are a very honest man. [_Exit._

_Charl._ Still [shall] I wooe thee, whilst thy ears reply I cannot, or I will not marry thee? Why hast thou drawn the bloud out of my cheeks, And given a quicker motion to my heart? Oh thou hast bred a Feaver in my veins Call'd love, which no Physitian can cure; Have mercy on a Maid, whose simple youth--

_Mont._ How your example, fairest, teacheth me A ceremonious Idolatry! [_Kneels._ By all the joy of love, I love thee better, Than I or any man can tell another; And will express the mercy which thou crav'st, I will forbear to marry thee: consider Thou art Nature's heir in feature, and thy parents, In fair Inheritances; rise with these thoughts, And look on me; but with a womans eye, A decaid fellow, void of means and spirit.

_Charl._ Of spirit?

_Mont._ Yes, could I tamely live, Forget my Fathers bloud, wait, and make legs, Stain my best breeches, with the servile drops That fall from others draughts.

_Charl._ This vizard wherewith thou wouldst hide thy spirit, Is perspective, to shew it plainlier. This undervalue of thy life, is but Because I should not buy thee, what more speaks Greatness of man, than valiant patience, That shrinks not under his fates strongest strokes? These _Roman_ deaths, as falling on a sword, Opening of veins, with poison quenching thirst, (Which we erroneously do stile the deeds Of the heroick and magnanimous man) Was dead-ey'd cowardize, and white-cheek'd fear, Who doubting tyranny, and fainting under Fortunes false Lottery, desperately run To death, for dread of death; that soul's most stout, That bearing all mischance, dares last it out; Will you perform your word, and marry me, When I shall call you to't?

_Enter_ Longueville _with a riding-rod_.

_Mont._ I'faith I will.

_Charl._ Who's this alights here?

_Long._ With leave, fair creature, are you the Lady Mistriss of the house?

_Charl._ Her servant, Sir.

_Long._ I pray then favour me, to inform your Lady, and Duke _Orleans_ wife,

A business of import awaits 'em here, And craves for speedy answer.

_Charl._ Are you in post, Sir?

_Long._ No, I am in Satin, Lady; I would you would be in post.

_Charl._ I will return, Sweet. [_Exit._

_Long._ Honest friend, do you belong to the house? I pray be covered.

_Mont._ Yes Sir, I do.

_Long._ Ha, dream'st thou _Longaville_? sure 'tis not he: Sir I should know you.