Part 4

_Cel._ Yet I will talke a little to the pilchards, You two that have not twixt you both the hundred Part of a soule, course woollen witted fellowes, Without a nap, with bodies made for burdens, You that are onely stuffings for apparrell As you were made but engines for your Taylors To frame their clothes upon, and get them custome; Vntill men see you moove, yet, then you dare not Out of your guilt of being the ignobler beast But give a horse the wall, whom you excell Onely in dancing of the brawles, because The horse was not taught the French way, your two faces, One fat like Christmas, tother leane like Candlemas, And Prologue to a Lent, both bound together Would figure _Ianus_, and doe many cures On Agues and the greene disease by frighting, But neither can with all the characters And conjuring circles charme a woman, though Sha'd fourescore yeares upon her, and but one Tooth in her head, to love, or thinke well of you; And I were miserable, to be at cost To court such a complexion, as your malice Did impudently insinuate, but I waste time And staine my breath in talking to such tadpoles. Goe home and wash your tongues in Barly water, Drinke cleane Tobacco, be not hot i'th mouth, And you may scape the Beadle; so I leave you To shame and your owne garters. Sir I must Entreate you for my honour doe not pennance em, They are not worth your anger, how I shall Acquit your Ladies silence.

_Bo._ Madam, I Am sorry to suspect, and dare revenge.

_Cel._ No cause of mine. _Bor._ It must become me to attend you home.

_Cel._ You are noble--farewell Mushroomes.

_Are._ Is she gone. _Li._ I thinke we peperd her.

_Al._ I am glad tis over, But I repent no service for you Madam.

_Enter servant with a letter._

To me? from whence--a Iewell a good preface, Be happy the conclusion.

_Are._ Some love letter----_He smiles upont._

_Lit._ He has a hundred Mistresses, you may Be charitable Madam I ha none, He surfets, and I fall away i'th kidnyes.

_Al._ Ile meete, Tis some great Lady questionlesse, that has Taken notice, and would satisfie her appetite.

_Are._ Now Mr. _Alexander_, you looke bright o the suddaine, Another spirit's in your eye.

_Al._ Not mine Madam, Onely a summons to meete a friend.

_Ar._ What friend? _Lit._ By this Jewell, I know her not!

_Ar._ Tis a she friend, Ile follow gentlemen, We may have a game at Sant before you goe.

_Al._ I shall attend you Madam. _Li._ Tis our duty.

_Are._ I blush while I converse with my owne thoughts, Some strange fate governes me, but I must on, The wayes are cast already, and we thrive When our sinne feares no eye nor perspective. _Exit._

_The fourth Act._

_Enter two men leading Alexander, blinded, and goe off suddenly._

_Al._ I am not hurt, my patience to obey em Not without feare to ha my throat cut else, Did me a curtesie whither ha they brought me? Tis devillish darke, the bottome of a well At midnight, with but two starres on the top, Were broad day to this darkenesse, I but thinke How like a whirlewinde these rogues caught me up And smoothered my eyesight, let me see, These may be spirits, and for ought I know Have brought me hither over twenty steeples, Pray heaven they were not Bayliefes, thats more worth My feare, and this a prison, all my debts Reeke in my nostrill, and may bones beginne To ake with feare to be made dice, and yet This is too calme and quiet for a prison; What if the riddle prove I am robd; and yet I did not feele em search me? How now? musicke?

_Enter Decoy like an old woman with a light._

And a light? What beldam's this, I cannot pray; What art? _De._ A friend, feare not young man I am No spirit. _Alex._ Off. _De._ Despise me not for age, Or this course outside, which I weare not out Of poverty; thy eyes be witnesse tis No cave or beggars cell tha'rt brought too, let That gold speake here's no want, which thou maist spend, And finde a spring to tire even prodigality If thou beest wise. _Alex._ The devill was a coyner From the beginning, yet the gold lookes currant.

_De._ Tha'rt still in wonder, know I am Mistresse of This house, and of a fortune that shall serve And feed thee with delights, twas J sent for thee, The jewell and the letter came from me. It was my art, thus to contrive our meeting, Because J would not trust thee with my fame, Vntill J found thee worth a womans honor.

_Al._ Honour and fame? the devill meanes to have A care on's credit, though she sent for me, J hope, she has another customer To doe the tricke withall, J wod not turne Familiar to a witch. _De._ What saist? Canst thou Dwell in my armes to night, shall we change kisses, And entertaine the silent houres with pleasure? Such as old time shall be delighted with, And blame the too swifte motion of his wings While we embrace? _Al._ Embrace? She has had no teeth This twenty years, and the next violent cough Brings up her tongue, it cannot possibly Be sound at root, I doe not thinke but one Strong sneeze upon her, and well mean't would make Her quarters fall away, one kicke would blow Her up like gunpowder, and loose all her limbs; She is so cold, an _Incubus_ wod not heate her, Her phlegme would quench a furnace, and her breath Would dampe a musket bullet. _De._ Have you sir Considerd. _Alex._ What? _De._ My proposition, Canst love? _Alex._ I could have done, whom doe you meane? I know you are pleased, but to make sport. _De._ Thou art not So dull of soule as thou appearst. _Alex._ This is But some device, my granam has some tricke in't: Yes I can love. _De._ But canst thou affect me.

_Al._ Although to reverence so grave a matron Were an ambitious word in me; yet since You give me boldnesse, I doe love you. _De._ Then Thou art my owne. _Al._ Has she no cloven foote?

_De._ And I am thine, and all that I command Thy servants, from this minute thou art happy, And fate in thee will crowne all my desires. I griev'd a proper man should be compeld To bring his body to the common market, My wealth shall make thee glorious, and the more To encourage thee, how ere this forme may fright Thy youthfull eyes, yet thou wo't find by light Of thy owne sense, for other light is banish'd My chamber, when our armes tie lovers knots, And kisses seale the welcome of our lippes, I shall not there affright thee, nor seeme old, With riveld veines, my skin is smooth and softe As _Ermines_, with a spirit to meete thine, Active and equall to the queene of Loves When she did court _Adonis_. _Al._ This doth more Confirme she is a devill, and I am Within his owne dominions, I must on, Or else be torne a peeces, I have heard These Succubi must not be crost. _De._ We trifle Too precious time away, Ile shew you a prospect Of the next chamber, and then out the candle.

_Al._ Have you no sacke i'th house, I would goe arm'd Vpon this breach. _De._ It shanot need. _Al._ One word Mother, have not you beene a Cat in your dayes?

_De._ I am glad you are so merry sir, you observe That bed. _Alex._ A very brave one. _De._ When you are Disrob'd, you can come thither in the darke, You shanot stay for me, come as you wish For happinesse. _Exit._

_Al._ I am preferd, if I Be modest and obey, she cannot have The heart to doe me harme, and she were _Hecate_ Herselfe, I will have a strong faith, and thinke, I march upon a Mistris, the lesse evill, If I scape fire now, I defie the devill. _Exit._

_Enter Fred. Littlew. Steward._

_Fre._ And how dee like me now? _St._ Most excellent.

_Fre._ Your opinion Mr. _Littlewor_. _Lit._ Your French tailor Has made you a perfect gentleman, I may Converse now with you, and preserve my credit, De'e find no alteration in your body With these new clothes? _Fre._ My body altered? No.

_Lit._ You are not yet in fashion then, that must Have a new motion garbe, and posture too, Or all your pride is cast away, it is not The cut of your apparrell makes a gallant, But the geometricall wearing of your clothes.

_St._ Mr. _Littleworth_ tells you right, you weare your hat Too like a citizen. _Lit._ Tis like a Midwife, Place it with best advantage of your haire, Is halfe your feather molted? this does make No shew, it should spread over like a Canopy, Your hot reind Monsieur weares it for a shade, And cooler to his backe, your doublet must Be more unbutton'd hereabouts, you'le not Be a sloven else, a foule shirt is no blemish, You must be confident, and outface cleane linnen Your doublet and your breeches must be allow'd No private meeting here, your cloak's too long, It reaches to your buttocke, and doth smell Too much of Spanish gravitie, the fashion Is to weare nothing but a Cape, a coate May be allowed a covering for one elbow, And some to avoid the trouble, choose to walke In quirpo thus. _St._ Your coat, and cloak's a brushing In Long-lane Lumbard. _Fre._ But what if it raine?

_Lit._ Your belt about your shoulder is sufficient To keepe off any storme, beside a reede But wau'd discreetly, has so many pores, It suckes up all the raine that falls about one, With this defence, when other men have beene Wet to the skin through all their cloakes, I have Defied a tempest and walked by the Tavernes Drie as a bone. _St._ Because he had no money To call for wine. _Fr._ Why you doe walke enchanted, Have you such pretty charmes in towne? But stay, Who must I have to attend me? _Lit._ Is not that Yet thought upon. _St._ I have laid out for servants.

_Lit._ They are every where. _St._ I cannot yet be furnish'd With such as I would put into his hands.

_Fr._ Of what condition must they be, and how Many in number sir? _Lit._ Beside your fencing, Your singing, dancing, riding, and French-master, Two may serve domesticke to be constant waiters Vpon a gentleman, a foole, a pimpe.

_St._ For these two officers I have enquird, And I am promisd a convenient whiskin, I could save charges, and employ the Pye wench That carries her intelligence in whitepots, Or tis but taking order with the woman That holds the ballads, she could fit him with A concubin to any tune, but I Have a designe to place a fellow with him That has read all Sir _Pandarus_ workes, a Trojan That lies conceal'd, and is acquainted with Both citty and sub urbian fripperies Can fetch em with a spell at midnight to him, And warrant which are for his turne, can for A neede supply the Surgeon too. _Fre._ I like Thy providence,--such a one deserves a livery twice a yeare.

_St._ It shanot need, a cast suite of your worships Will serve, he'le find a cloke to cover it Out of his share with those he brings to bed to you.

_Fre._ But must I call this fellow Pimpe? _Lit._ It is Not necessary, or _Jacke_ or _Harry_, Or what hees knowne abroad by will sound better, That men may thinke he is a Christian.

_Fre._ But heare you Mr. _Littleworth_, is there not A method, and degrees of title in Men of this art. _Lit._ According to the honour Of men that doe employ em. An Emperour May give this office to a Duke, A King May have his Viceroy to negotiate for him, A Duke may use a Lord, the Lord a Knight. A Knight may trust a gentleman, and when They are abroad, and merry, gentlemen May pimpe to one another. _Fre._ Good, good fellowship! But for the foole now, that should waite on me, And breake me jeasts. _Lit._ A foole is necessary.

_St._ By any meanes. _Fre._ But which of these two servants Must now take place. _Lit._ That question Mr. _Fredericke_ The schoole of Heraldry should conclude upon; But if my judgement may be heard, the foole Is your first man, and it is knowne a point Of state to have a foole. _St._ But sir the other Is held the finer servant, his employments Are full of trust, his person cleane, and nimble, And none so soone can leape into preferment Where fooles are poore. _Lit._ Not all, theres story for't, Princes have beene no wiser than they should be, Would any noble man, that were no foole Spend all in hope of the Philosophers stone, To buy new Lordships in another countrey, Would Knights build Colledges, or gentlemen Of good estates, challenge the field and fight Because a whore wo'not be honest, come, Fooles are a family over all the world; We doe affect one naturally, indeede The foole is Leiger with us. _St._ Then the Pimpe Is extraordinary. _Fre._ Doe not you fall out About their places; here's my noble Aunt! _Enter Aretina._

_Lit._ How doe you like your nephew Madam now?

_Are._ Well, turne about _Fredricke_, very well.

_Fre._ Am I not now a proper gentleman? The vertue of rich clothes! now could I take The wall of _Iulius Cesar_, affront Great _Pompeys_ upperlip, and defie the Senate, Nay I can be as proud as your owne heart Madam, You may take that for your comfort; J put on That vertue with my clothes, and J doubt not But in a little time, J shall be impudent As any Page or Players boy, J am Beholding to this gentleman's good discipline, But J shall doe him credit in my practise, Your Steward has some pretty notions too In morall mischiefe. _Are._ Your desert in this Exceedes all other service, and shall bind me Both to acknowledge, and reward. _Lit._ Sweet Madam! Thinke me but worth your favour, J wo'd creepe Vpon my knees to honour you and for every Minute you lend to my reward, ile pay A yeare of serviceable tribute. _Are._ You Can complement. _Lit._ Thus still she puts me off, Vnlesse J speake the downe right word, she'le never Vnderstand me, a man would thinke that creeping Vpon one's knees Were English to a Lady. _Enter Alex._

_Ale._ How ist _Iacke_? Pleasures attend you Madam, How does my plant of honour? _Are._ Who is this?

_Al._ Tis _Alexander_. _Are._ Rich and glorious!

_Lit._ Tis _Alexander_ the great. _Ale._ And my _Bucephalus_ Waites at the doore. _Are._ Your case is alterd sir.

_Ale._ J cannot helpe these things, the Fates will have it, Tis not my land does this. _Lit._ But thou hast a plough That brings it in. _Are._ Now he lookes brave and lovely.

_Fre._ Welcome my gallant Macedonian.

_Al._ Madam, you gave your Nephew for my pupill, I rea'd but in a taverne, if you'le honour us, The Beare at the bridge foote shall entertaine you, A drawer is my Ganimed, he shall skinke Briske _Nectar_ to us, we will onely have A dozen Partridge in a dish, as many Phesants, Quailes, Cockes and Godwits, shall come marching up Like the train'd band, a sort of Sturgeon Shall give most bold defiance to an army, And triumph ore the table. _Are._ Sir, it will But dull the appetite to heare more, and mine Must be excusd, another time I may Be your guest. _Ale._ Tis growne in fashion now with Ladies, When you please ile attend you; _Littleworth_. Come _Fredericke_. _Fre._ Weele have musicke, I love noise, We will out roare the Thames and shake the bridge boy. _Ex._

_Lit._ Madam I kisse your hand, wod you wod thinke Of your poore servant, flesh and bloud is fraile, And troublesome to carry without helpe.

_Are._ A coach will easily convey it, or You may take water at strand bridge. _Lit._ But I Have taken fire. _Are._ The Thames will coole.

_Lit._ But never quench my heart, your charitie Can onely doe that! _Are._ I will keepe it cold Of purpose, _Lit._ Now you blesse me, and I dare Be drunke in expectation. _Are._ I am confident He knowes me not, and I were worse than mad To be my owne betrayer, here's my husband. _Enter Born._

_Bor._ Why, how now _Aretina_? What alone? The mystery of this solitude? my house Turne desart o'the sudaine, all the gamsters Blowne up? Why is the musicke put to silence? Or ha their instruments caught a cold, since we Gave e'm the last heate? I must know thy ground Of Melancholy. _Are._ You are merry, as You came from kissing _Celestina_. _Bor._ I Feele her yet warme upon my lip, she is Most excellent company, I did not thinke There was that sweetnesse in her sexe, I must Acknowledge twas thy cure to disinchant me From a dull husband to an active lover, With such a Lady, I could spend more yeeres, Than since my birth my glasse hath run soft minutes, And yet be young, her presence has a spell To keepe off age, she has an eye would strike Fire through an adamant. _Are._ I have heard as much Bestow'd upon a dull fac'd chambermaid Whom love and wit would thus commend, true beauty Is mock'd when we compare thus, it selfe being Above what can be fetch'd to make it lovely, Or could our thoughts reach some thing to declare The glories of a face, or bodies elegance, That touches but our sense, when beauty spreads Over the soule, and calls up understanding To looke when thence is offer'd, and admire, In both I must acknowledge _Celestina_ Most excellently faire, faire above all The beauties I ha seene, and one most worthy Mans love and wonder. _Bor._ Doe you speake _Aretina_, This with a pure sence to commend, or ist The mockery of my praise. _Aret._ Although it shame My selfe, I must be just, and give her all The excellency of women, and were I A man. _Bo._ What then? _Are._ I know not with what losse, I should attempt her love, she is a peece So angellically moving, I should thinke Frailty excusd to dote upon her forme, And almost vertue to be wicked with her. _Exit._

_Bor._ What should this meane? this is no jealousie, Or she beleeves I counterfeit, I feele Something within me, like a heate, to give Her cause, would _Celestina_ but consent, What a fraile thing is man, it is not worth Our glory to be chaste, while we deny Mirth and converse with women, he is good That dares the tempter, yet corrects his bloud. _Exit._

_Celestina, Mariana, Isabella._

_Cel._ I have told you all my knowledge since he is pleasd To invite himselfe he shall be entertaind, And you shall be my witnesses. _Mar._ Who comes with him?

_Cel._ Sir _William Sentlove_, that prepard me for The honourable encounter, I expect His Lordship every minute. _Enter Sentlove._

_Sent._ My Lord is come. _Enter Lord Hairecut._

_Cel._ He has honord me. _Se._ My Lord your periwig is awry?

_Lo._ You sir---- _While Hairecut is busie about his haire, Sentlove goes to_ Celestina.

_Sent._ You may guesse, at the gentleman thats with him. It is his Barbar, Madam, dee observe And your Ladiship want a shaver. _Hai._ She is here sir, I am betraid _Sentlove_ your plot, I may Have opportunity to be reveng'd. _Exit._

_Sent._ She in the midst. _Lo._ She's faire, I must confesse, But does she keepe this distance out of state.

_Cel._ Though I am poore in language to expresse How much your Lordship honors me, my heart Is rich and proud in such a guest, I shall Be out of love with every aire abroad, And for his grace done my unworthy house, Be a fond prisoner, become anchorite, And spend my houres in prayer, to reward The blessing, and the bounty of this presence.

_Lor._ Though you could turne each place you move in, to A temple, rather than a wall should hide So rich a beauty from the world, it were Lesse want to lose our piety and your prayer, A throne were fitter to present you to Our wonder, whence your eyes more worth than all They looke on, should chaine every heart a prisoner.

_Sent._ Twas pretty well come off. _Lo._ By your example I shall know how to complement in this You more confirme my welcome. _Cel._ I shall love My lippes the better, if their silent language Perswade your Lordship but to thinke so truely.

_Lo._ You make me smile Madam. _Cel._ I hope you came not With feare that any sadnesse here should shake One blossome from your eye, I should be miserable To present any object should displease you.

_Lo._ You doe not Madam. _Cel._ As I should account It no lesse sorrow, if your Lordship should Lay too severe a censure on my freedome. I wonot court a Prince against his justice, Nor bribe him with a smile to thinke me honest, Pardon my Lord this boldnesse, and the mirth That may flow from me, I beleeve my father Thought of no winding sheete when he begot me.

_Lor._ She has a merry soule, it will become Me aske your pardon Madam for my rude Approach so much a stranger to your knowledge.

_Cel._ Not my Lord so much stranger to my knowledge, Though I have but seene your person a farre off, I am acquainted with your character, Which I have heard so often, I can speake it.

_Lo._ You shall doe me an honor. _Cel._ If your Lordship will Be patient. _Lo._ And glad to heare my faults.

_Cel._ That as your conscience can agree upon em, How ever if your Lordship give me priviledge, Ile tell you whats the opinion of the world.

_Lo._ You cannot please me better. _Cel._ Y'are a Lord Borne with as much nobilitie as would Divided serve to make ten noble men Without a Herald, but with so much spirit, And height of soule, as well might furnish twenty. You are learnd, a thing not compatible now With native honour, and are master of A language that doth chaine all yeares, and charme All hearts, where you perswade, a wit so flowing And prudence to correct it, that all men Beleeve they onely meete in you, which with A spacious memory make up the full wonders; To these you have knowne valour, and upon A noble cause, know how to use a sword To honors best advantage, though you were none; You are as bountifull, as the showers that fall Into the Springs greene bosome; as you were Created Lord of fortune, not her steward; So constant to the cause, in which you make Your selfe an advocate, you dare all dangers, And men had rather you should be their friend, Than justice or the bench, bound up together.

_Lor._ But did you heare all this. _Cel._ And more my Lord.

_Lor._ Pray let me have it Madam.

_Cel._ To all these vertues, there is added one, (Your Lordship will remember when I name it, I speake but what I gather from the voyce Of others) it is growne to a full fame That you have lov'd a woman. _Lo._ But one Madam?

_Cel._ Yes many, give me leave to smile my Lord, I shall not neede to interpret in what sence, But you have shewd your selfe right honorable, And for your love to Ladies have deserv'd, If their vote might prevaile a marble statue, I make no comment on the peoples text. My Lord I should be sorry to offend.

_Lor._ You cannot Madam, these are things we owe To nature for. _Cel._ And honest men will pay Their debts. _Lo._ If they be able, or compound.

_Cel._ She had a hard heart, would be unmercifull, And not give day to men so promising, But you ow'd women nothing. _Lo._ Yes I am Still in their debt, and I must owe them love, It was part of my character. _Cel._ With your Lordships Pardon I onely said, you had a fame For loving women, but of late men say You have against the imperiall lawes of love, Restraind the active flowings of your bloud, And with a Mistris buried all that is Hop'd for in loves succession, as all beauty Had died with her, and left the world benighted! In this you more dishonor all our sexe Than you did grace a part, when every where Love tempts your eye to admire a glorious harvest, And every where as full blowne eares submit Their golden heads, the laden trees bow downe Their willing fruit, and court your amorous tasting.

_Lor._ I see men would dissect me to a fibre, But doe you beleeve this? _Cel._ It is my wonder! I must confesse a man of nobler earth Then goes to vulgar composition, Borne and bred high, so unconfind, so rich In fortunes, and so read in all that summe Vp humane knowledge, to feed gloriously, And live at court, the onely spheare wherein True beauty moves, natures most wealthy garden, Where every blossome is more worth, than all The _Hesperian_ fruite, by jealous Dragon watch'd Where all delights doe circle appetite, And pleasures multiply by being tasted, Should be so lost with thought of one, turne ashes. There's nothing left my Lord that can excuse you, Vnlesse you pleade, what I am asham'd to prompt Your wisedome too? _Lo._ What that? _Cel._ That you have plaid The Surgeon with your selfe. _Lo._ And am made Eunuch.