SCENE III.

_A Room in_ IMPERIA’s _House_.

_Enter_ CURVETTO _and_ SIMPERINA.

CUR. I must not stay, thou sayst? SIM. God’s me, away! CUR. Buss, buss again;—here’s sixpence;—buss again,— Farewell: I must not stay then? SIM. Foh! CUR. Farewell: At ten a’ clock[674] thou sayst, and ring a bell, Which thou wilt hang out at this window? SIM. Lord! She’ll hear this fiddling. CUR. No, close, on my word. Farewell: just ten a’ clock; I shall come in? Remember to let down the cord,—just ten: Thou’lt open, mouse? pray God thou dost. Amen![675] I’m[676] an old courtier, wench, but I can spy A young duck: close, mum; ten; close, ’tis not I. [_Exit._ SIM. Mistress, sweet ladies!

_Enter_ IMPERIA _and Ladies with table-books_.[677]

IMP. Is his old rotten aqua-vitæ bottle stopt up? is he gone? Fie, fie, fie, fie, he so smells of ale and onions, and rosa-solis, fie. Bolt the door, stop the keyhole, lest his breath peep in. Burn some perfume. I do not love to handle these dried stockfishes, that ask so much tawing:[678] fie, fie, fie. FIRST LADY. Nor I, trust me, lady; fie. IMP. No, no, no, no. Stools and cushions; low stools, low stools; sit, sit, sit, round, ladies, round. [_They seat themselves._] So, so, so, so; let your sweet beauties be spread to the full and most moving advantage; for we are fallen into his hands, who, they say, has an A B C for the sticking in of the least white pin in any part of the body. SECOND LADY. Madam Imperia, what stuff is he like to draw out before us? IMP. Nay, nay, nay, ’tis Greek to me, ’tis Greek to me: I never had remnant of his Spanish-leather learning. Here he comes: your ears may now fit themselves out of the whole piece.

_Enter_ LAZARILLO.[679]

LAZ. I do first deliver to your most skreet[680] and long-fingered hands this head, or top of all the members, bare and uncombed, to shew how deeply I stand in reverence of your naked female beauties. Bright and unclipt angels,[681] if I were to make a discovery of any new-found land, as Virginia or so, to ladies and courtiers, my speech should hoist up sails fit to bear up such lofty and well-rigged vessels: but because I am to deal only with the civil chitty-matron,[682] I will not lay upon your blushing and delicate cheek[s] any other colours than such as will give lustre to your chitty[683] faces: in and to that purpose, our thesis is taken out of that most plentiful, but most precious book, entitled the _Economical Cornucopia_. FIRST LADY. The what? LAZ. The _Economical Cornucopia_: thus, _Wise is that wife, who with apt wit complains That she’s kept under, yet rules all the reins._ SECOND LADY. O, again, sweet signior!—[_writing_] ———_complains That she’s kept under_—— What follows? LAZ. _Yet rules all the reins: Wise is that wife, who with apt wit complains That she’s kept under, yet rules all the reins._ Most pure and refined plants of nature, I will not, as this distinction enticeth, take up the parts as they lie here in order; as first, to touch your _wisdom_, it were folly; next, your _complaining_, ’tis too common; thirdly, your _keeping under_, ’tis above my capachity;[684] and, lastly, _the reins in your own hands_, that is the a-per-se[685] of all, the very cream of all, and therefore how to skim off that only, only listen: a wife wise, no matter; apt wit, no matter; complaining, no matter; kept under, no great matter; but to rule the roast is the matter. THIRD LADY. That ruling of the roast goes with me. FOURTH LADY. And me. FIFTH LADY. And me; I’ll have a cut of that roast. LAZ. Since, then, a woman’s only desire is to have the reins in her own white hand, your chief practice, the very same day that you are wived, must be to get hold of these reins; and being fully gotten, or wound about, _yet to complain, with apt wit, as though you had them not_. IMP. How shall we know, signior, when we have them all or not? LAZ. I will furnish your capable understandings out of my poor Spanish store with the chief implements, and their appurtenances. Observe; it shall be your first and finest praise to sing the note of every new fashion at first sight, and, if you can, to stretch that note above ela.[686] OMNES. Good. LAZ. The more you pinch your servants’ bellies for this, the smoother will the fashion sit on your back: but if your goodman like not this music, as being too full of crotchets, your only way is, to learn to play upon the virginals,[687] and so nail his ears to your sweet humours. If this be out of time too, yet your labour will quit the cost; for by this means your secret friend may have free and open access to you, under the colour of pricking you lessons. Now, because you may tie your husband’s love in most sweet knots, you shall never give over labouring till out of his purse you have digged _a garden_;[688] and that garden must stand a pretty distance from the chitty;[689] for by repairing thither, much good fruit may be grafted. FIRST LADY. Mark that. LAZ. Then, in the afternoon, when you address your sweet perfumed body to walk to this garden, there to gather a nosegay,—sops-in-wine,[690] cowslips, columbines, heart’s-ease, &c.,—the first principle to learn is, that you stick black patches for the rheum on your delicate blue temples, though there be no room for the rheum: black patches are comely in most women, and being well fastened, draw men’s eyes to shoot glances at you. Next, your ruff must stand in print;[691] and for that purpose, get poking-sticks[692] with fair and long handles, lest they scorch your lily sweating hands. Then your hat with a little brim, if you have a little face; if otherwise, otherwise. Besides, you must play the wag with your wanton fan; have your dog,—called Pearl, or Min, or Why ask you, or any other pretty name,—dance along by you; your embroidered muff before you, on your ravishing hands; but take heed who thrusts his fingers into your fur. SECOND LADY. We’ll watch for that. LAZ. Once a quarter take state upon you, and be chick.[693] Being chick thus politicly, lie at your garden: your lip-sworn servant may there visit you as a physician; where[694] otherwise, if you languish at home, be sure your husband will look to your water. This chickness[695] may be increased, with giving out that you breed young bones; and to stick flesh upon those bones, it shall not be amiss if you long for peascods at ten groats the cod, and for cherries at a crown the cherry. FIRST LADY. O dear tutor! SECOND LADY. Interrupt him not. LAZ. If, while this pleasing fit of chickness hold you, you be invited forth to supper, whimper and seem unwilling to go; but if your goodman, bestowing the sweet duck and kiss upon your moist lip, entreat, go. Marry, my counsel is, you eat little at table, because it may be said of you, you are no cormorant; yet at your coming home you may counterfeit a qualm, and so devour a posset. Your husband need not have his nose in that posset; no, trust your chambermaid only in this, and scarcely her; for you cannot be too careful into whose hands you commit your secrets. OMNES. That’s certain. LAZ. If you have daughters capable, marry them by no means to chittizens,[696] but choose for them some smooth-chinned, curled-headed gentlemen;[697] for gentlemen will lift up your daughters to their own content; and to make these curled-pated gallants come off the more roundly, make your husband go to the herald for arms; and let it be your daily care that he have a fair and comely crest; yea, go all the ways yourselves you can to be made ladies, especially if, without danger to his person, or for love or money, you can procure your husband to be dubbed. The goddess of memory lock up these jewels, which I have bestowed upon you, in your sweet brains! Let these be the rules to square out your life by, though you ne’er go level, but tread you[r] shoes awry. If you can get these reins into your lily hand[s], you shall need no coaches, but may drive your husbands. Put it down; and, according to that wise saying of you, be saints in the church, angels in the street, devils in the kitchen, and apes in your bed: upon which leaving you tumbling, pardon me that thus abruptly and openly I take you all up. FIRST LADY. You have got so far into our books, signior, that you cannot ’scape without a pardon here, if you take us up never so snappishly. IMP. Music there, to close our stomachs! How do you like him, madonna? [_Music._ SECOND LADY. O, trust me, I like him most profoundly! why, he’s able to put down twenty such as I am. THIRD LADY. Let them build upon that; nay, more, we’ll henceforth never go to a cunning woman, since men can teach us our lerry.[698] FOURTH LADY. We are all fools to him; and our husbands, if we can hold these reins fast, shall be fools to us. SECOND LADY. If we can keep but this bias, wenches, our goodmen may perchance once in a month get a fore-game of us; but, if they win a rubbers, let them throw their caps at it. IMP. No, no, no, dear features, hold their noses to the grindstone, and they’re gone. Thanks, worthy signior: fie, fie, fie, you stand bare too long. Come, bright mirrors, will you withdraw into a gallery, and taste a slight banquet? FIRST LADY. We shall cloy ourselves with sweets, my sweet madonna. SECOND LADY. Troth, I will not, madonna Imperia. IMP. No, no, no. Fie, fie, fie, signior Lazarillo, either be you our foreman, or else put in these ladies, at your discretion, into the gallery, and cut off this striving. LAZ. It shall be my office; my fees being, as they pass, to take toll of their alablaster[699] hands. [_Exeunt Ladies_: IMPERIA _stays_.] Admired creature, I summon you to a parley: you remember this is the night? IMP. So, so, so, I do remember: here is a key; that is your chamber.—Lights, Simperina.—About twelve a’ clock you shall take my beauty prisoner:—fie, fie, fie, how I blush!—at twelve a’ clock. LAZ. Rich argosy of all golden pleasure— IMP. No, no, no, put up, put up your joys till anon: I will come, by my virginity. But I must tell you one thing, that all my chambers are many nights haunted, with what sprites none can see; but sometimes we hear birds singing, sometimes music playing, sometimes voices laughing: but stir not you, nor be frighted at any thing. LAZ. By Hercules, if any spirits rise, I will conjure them in their own circles with toledo. IMP. So, so, so; lights for his chamber.—Is the trap- door ready? [_Aside._ SIMP. ’Tis set sure. IMP. So, so, so, I will be rid of this broiled red sprat, that stinks so in my stomach, fie; I hate him worse than to have a tailor come a-wooing to me. [_Aside._] God’s me! the sweet ladies, the banquet,—I forget: fie, fie, fie, follow, dear signior.—The trap- door, Simperina. [_Aside, and exit._ SIMP. Signior, come away. LAZ. Cupid, I kiss the nock[700] of thy sweet bow: A woman makes me yield; Mars could not so. [_Exit with_ SIMPERINA.