SCENE I.[3531

_Enter_ MIRABEL, PINAC, _and_ BELLEUR.

_Mir._ Ne’er tell me of this happiness; ’t is nothing: The state[3532] they bring with being sought-to,[3533] scurvy: I had rather make mine own play, and I will do. My happiness is in mine own content, And the despising of such glorious[3534] trifles, 5 As I have done a thousand more. For my humour, Give me a good free fellow, that sticks to me, A jovial fair companion; there’s a beauty! For women, I can have too many of them; Good women too, as the age reckons ’em, 10 More than I have employment for.

_Pin._ You are happy.

_Mir._ My only fear is, that I must be forced, Against my nature, to conceal myself: Health and an able body are two jewels.

_Pin._ If either of these two women were offered to me now, 15 I would think otherwise, and do accordingly; Yes, and recant my heresies; I would,[3535] sir; And be more tender of opinion, And put a little of my travell’d liberty Out of the way, and look upon ’em seriously. 20 Methinks, this grave-carried wench——

_Bel._ Methinks, the other, The home-spoken gentlewoman, that desires to be fruitful, That treats of the full manage of the matter, (For there lies all my aim,) that wench, methinks, 25 If I were but well set on, for she is affable, If I were but hounded right, and one to teach me— She speaks to th’ matter, and comes home to th’ point— Now do I know I have such a body to please her As all the kingdom cannot fit her with, I am sure on ’t, 30 If I could but talk myself into her favour.

_Mir._ That ’s easily done.

_Bel._ That ’s easily said; would ’t were done! You should see then how I would lay about me. If I were virtuous, it would never grieve me, Or any thing that might justify my modesty; 35 But when my nature is prone to do a charity, And my calf’s tongue will not help me——

_Mir._ Will ye go to ’em? They cannot but take it courteously.

_Pin._ I ’ll do my part. Though I am sure ’t will be the hardest I e’er play’d yet 39 A way I never tried too, which will stagger me; And, if it do not shame me, I am happy.

_Mir._ Win ’em, and wear ’em; I give up my interest.

_Pin._ What say you. Monsieur Belleur?

_Bel._ Would I could say, Or sing, or any thing that were but handsome! I would be with her presently!

_Pin._ Yours is no venture; 45 A merry ready wench.

_Bel._ A vengeance squibber;[3536] She ’ll fleer me out of faith too.

_Mir._ I ’ll be near thee; Pluck up thy heart; I ’ll second thee at all brunts.[3537] Be angry, if she abuse thee, and beat her a little; Some women are won that way.

_Bel._ Pray, be quiet, 50 And let me think: I am resolv’d to go on; But how I shall get off again——

_Mir._ I am persuaded Thou wilt so please her, she will go near to ravish thee.

_Bel._ I would ’t were come to that once! Let me pray a little.

_Mir._ Now, for thine honour, Pinac, board me this modesty; 55 Warm but this frozen snow-ball, ’t will be a conquest (Although I know thou art a fortunate wencher, And hast done rarely in thy days) above all thy ventures.

_Bel._ You will be ever near?

_Mir._ At all necessities; 59 And take thee off, and set thee on again, boy, And cherish thee, and stroke thee.

_Bel._ Help me out too; For I know I shall stick i’ th’ mire. If you see us close once, Be gone, and leave me to my fortune, suddenly, For I am then determin’d to do wonders. Farewell, and fling an old shoe. How my heart throbs! 65 Would I were drunk! Farewell, Pinac; Heaven send us A joyful and a merry meeting, man!

_Pin._ Farewell, And cheer thy heart up; and remember, Belleur, They are but women.

_Bel._ I had rather they were lions.

_Mir._ About it; I ’ll be with you instantly.— _Exeunt_ [BELLEUR _and_ PINAC]. _Enter_ ORIANA. Shall I ne’er be at rest? No peace of conscience? 71 No quiet for these creatures? Am I ordain’d To be devour’d quick[3538] by these she-cannibals? Here ’s another they call handsome; I care not for her, I ne’er look after her. When I am half-tippled, It may be I should turn her, and peruse her; 76 Or, in my want of women, I might call for her; But to be haunted when I have no fancy, No maw to th’ matter—[_Aside._] Now, why do you follow me? 79

_Ori._ I hope, sir, ’t is no blemish to my virtue; Nor need you, out of scruple, ask that question, If you remember ye, before your travel, The contract you tied to me. ’T is my love, sir, That makes me seek ye, to confirm your memory; And, that being fair and good, I cannot suffer. I come to give ye thanks too.

_Mir._ For what, prithee? 86

_Ori._ For that fair piece of honesty you show’d sir, That constant nobleness.

_Mir._ How? for I am short-headed.

_Ori._ I ’ll tell you then; for refusing that free offer Of Monsieur Nantolet’s, those handsome beauties, 90 Those two prime ladies, that might well have press’d ye If not to have broken, yet to have bow’d your promise. I know it was for my sake, for your faith-sake, You slipt ’em off; your honesty compell’d ye; And let me tell ye, sir, it show’d most handsomely. 95

_Mir._ And let me tell thee, there was no such matter; Nothing intended that way, of that nature. I have more to do with my honesty than to fool it, Or venture it in such leak barks as women. I put ’em off because I lov’d ’em not, 100 Because they are too queasy[3539] for my temper, And not for thy sake, nor the contract-sake, Nor vows, nor oaths; I have made a thousand of ’em; They are things indifferent, whether kept or broken; Mere venial slips, that grow not near the conscience; 105 Nothing concerns those tender parts; they are trifles; For, as I think, there was never man yet hop’d for Either constancy or secrecy from a woman, Unless it were an ass ordain’d for sufferance; Nor to contract with such can be a tie-all. 110 So let them know again; for ’t is a justice And a main point of civil policy, Whate’er we say or swear, they being reprobates, Out of the state of faith, we are clear of all sides, And ’t is a curious blindness to believe us. 115

_Ori._ You do not mean this, sure?

_Mir._ Yes, sure, and certain; And hold it positively, as a principle, As ye are strange things, and made of strange fires and fluxes, So we are allow’d as strange ways to obtain ye, But not to hold; we are all created errant. 120

_Ori._ You told me other tales.

_Mir._ I not deny it; I have tales of all sorts for all sorts of women, And protestations likewise of all sizes, As they have vanities to make us coxcombs. If I obtain a good turn, so it is, 125 I am thankful for it; if I be made an ass, The ’mends are in mine own hands, or the surgeon’s. And there’s an end on ’t.

_Ori._ Do not you love me, then?

_Mir._ As I love others; heartily I love thee; When I am high and lusty, I love thee cruelly. After I have made a plenteous meal, and satisfied 131 My senses with all delicates, come to me, And thou shalt see how I love thee.

_Ori._ Will not you marry me?

_Mir._ No, certain, no, for any thing I know yet. I must not lose my liberty, dear lady, 136 And, like a wanton slave, cry for more shackles. What should I marry for? Do I want any thing? Am I an inch the farther from my pleasure? Why should I be at charge to keep a wife of mine own, 140 When other honest married men will ease me. And thank me too, and be beholding to me? Thou think’st I am mad for a maidenhead; thou art cozen’d: Or, if I were addicted to that diet, Can you tell me where I should have one? Thou art eighteen now, 145 And, if thou hast thy maidenhead yet extant, Sure, ’t is as big as cods-head; and those grave dishes I never love to deal withal. Dost thou see this book here? [_Shows a book._] Look over all these ranks; all these are women, Maids, and pretenders to maidenheads; these are my conquests; 150 All these I swore to marry, as I swore to thee, With the same reservation, and most righteously: Which I need not have done neither; for, alas, they made no scruple, And I enjoy’d ’em at my will, and left ’em. Some of ’em are married since, and were as pure maids again, 155 Nay, o’ my conscience, better than they were bred for; The rest, fine sober women.

_Ori._ Are ye not ashamed, sir?

_Mir._ No, by my troth, sir;[3540] there ’s no shame belongs to it; I hold it as commendable to be wealthy in pleasure, As others do in rotten sheep and pasture. 160

_Enter_ DE GARD.

_Ori._ Are all my hopes come to this? Is there no faith, No troth, nor modesty, in men? [_Weeps._]

_De Gard._ How now, sister? Why weeping thus? Did I not prophesy? Come, tell me why—

_Ori._ I am not well; pray ye pardon me. _Exit._

_De Gard._ Now, Monsieur Mirabel, what ails my sister? 165 You have been playing the wag with her.

_Mir._ As I take it, She is crying for a cod-piece. Is she gone? Lord, what an age is this! I was calling for ye; For, as I live, I thought she would have ravish’d me.

_De Gard._ Ye are merry, sir. 170

_Mir._ Thou know’st this book, De Gard, this inventory?

_De Gard._ The debt-book of your mistresses; I remember it.

_Mir._ Why, this was it that anger’d her; she was stark mad She found not her name here; and cried downright Because I would not pity her immediately, 175 And put her in my list.

_De Gard._ Sure, she had more modesty.

_Mir._ Their modesty is anger to be overdone; They’ll quarrel sooner for precedence here, And take it in more dudgeon to be slighted, Than they will in public meetings; ’t is their natures: 180 And, alas, I have so many to despatch yet, And to provide myself for my affairs too, That, in good faith——

_De Gard._ Be not too glorious[3541] foolish; Sum not your travels up with vanities; It ill becomes your expectation.[3542] 185 Temper your speech, sir: whether your loose story Be true or false, (for you are so free, I fear it,) Name not my sister in ’t; I must not hear it. Upon your danger, name her not! I hold her A gentlewoman of those happy parts and carriage, 190 A good man’s tongue may be right proud to speak her.

_Mir._ Your sister, sir! D’ ye blench at that? D’ ye cavil? Do you hold her such a piece she may not be play’d withal? I have had an hundred handsomer and nobler Have su’d to me, too, for such a courtesy; 195 Your sister comes i’ the rear. Since ye are so angry, And hold your sister such a strong recusant, I tell ye, I may do it; and, it may be, will too; It may be, have too; there ’s my free confession; Work upon that now!

_De Gard._ If I thought ye had, I would work, And work such stubborn work should make your heart ache: 201 But I believe ye, as I ever knew ye, A glorious talker, and a legend-maker Of idle tales and trifles; a depraver 204 Of your own truth: their honours fly about[3543] ye! And so, I take my leave; but with this caution, Your sword be surer than your tongue; you ’ll smart else.

_Mir._ I laugh at thee, so little I respect thee; And I ’ll talk louder, and despise thy sister; 209 Set up a chamber-maid that shall outshine her. And carry her in my coach too, and that will kill her. Go, get thy rents up, go!

_De Gard._ Ye are a fine gentleman! _Exit._

_Mir._ Now, have at my two youths! I ’ll see how they do; How they behave themselves; and then I ’ll study What wench shall love me next, and when I ’ll loose[3544] her. _Exit._ 215