Читать книгу Beaumont and Fletcher's Works. Volume 9 - Beaumont Francis - Страница 10

Old K.

Why now you take the course Sir Gregory Fop:

I could enforce her, and I list, but love

That's gently won, is a man's own for ever,

Have you prepar'd good Musick?

Sir Gr. As fine a noise, Uncle, as heart can wish.

O[l]d K. Why that's done like a Suitor,

They must be woo'd a hundred several ways,

Before you obtain the right way in a woman,

'Tis an odd creature, full of creeks and windings.

The Serpent has not more; for sh'as all his,

And then her own beside came in by her mother.

Sir Gr. A fearful portion for a man to venture on.

Old K. But the way found once by the wits of men,

There is no creature lies so tame agen.

Sir Gr. I promise you, not a house-Rabbit, Sir.

Old K. No sucker on 'em all.

Sir Gr. What a thing's that?

They're pretty fools I warrant, when they'r tame

As a man can lay his lips [to].

Old K. How were you bred, Sir?

Did you never make a fool of a Tenants daughter?

Sir Gr. Never i'faith, they ha' made some fools for me,

And brought 'em many a time under their aprons.

Old [K] They could not shew you the way plainlier, I think,

To make a fool again.

Sir Gr. There's fools enough, Sir,

'Less they were wiser.

Old K. This is wondrous rare,

Come you to London with a Maiden-head, Knight?

A Gentleman of your rank ride with a Cloak-bag?

Never an Hostess by the way to leave it with?

Nor Tapsters Sister? nor head-Ostlers Wife?

What no body?

Sir Gr. Well mock'd old Wit-monger,

I keep it for your Neece.

Old K. Do not say so for shame, she'll laugh at thee,

A wife ne'er looks for't, 'tis a batchelors penny,

He may giv't to a begger-wench, i'th' progress time,

And ne'er be call'd to account for't.

Sir Gr. Would I had known so much,

I could ha' stopt a beggers mouth by th' way.

That rail'd upon me, 'cause I'd give her nothing —

What, are they come?

Pag. And plac'd directly, Sir,

Under her window.

Sir Gr. What may I call you, Gentleman?

Boy. A poor servant to the Viol, I'm the Voice, Sir.

Sir Gr. In good time Master Voice?

Boy. Indeed good time does get the mastery.

Sir Gr. What Countreyman, Master Voice.

Boy. Sir, born at Ely, we all set up in El[y,]

But our house commonly breaks in Rutland-shire.

Sir Gr. A shrewd place by my faith, it may well break your voice,

It breaks many a mans back; come, set to your business.

Fain would I wake you, Sweet, but fear

I should invite you to worse chear;

In your dreams you cannot fare

Meaner than Musick; no compare;

None of your slumbers are compil'd

Under the pleasure makes a Child;

Your day-delights, so well compact,

That what you think, turns all to act:

I'd wish my life no better play,

Your dream by night, your thought by day.

Wake gently, wake,

Part softly from your dreams;

The morning flies

To your fair eyes,

To take her special beams.

Sir Gr. I hear her up, here Master Voice,

Pay you the Instruments, save what you can,

To keep you when you're crackt.

Neece. Who should this be?

That I'm so much beholding to, for sweetness?

Pray Heaven it happens right.

Sir Gr. Good morrow, Mistriss.

Neece. An ill day and a thousand come upon thee.

Sir Gr. 'Light, that's six hundred more than any

Almanack has.

Neece. Comes it from thee? it is the mangiest Musick

That ever woman heard.

Sir Gr. Nay, say not so, Lady,

There's not an itch about 'em.

Neece. I could curse

My attentive powers, for giving entrance to't;

There is no boldness like the impudence

That's lockt in a fools bloud, how durst you do this?

In conscience I abus'd you as sufficiently

As woman could a man; insatiate Coxcomb,

The mocks and spiteful language I have given thee,

Would o' my life ha' serv'd ten reasonable men,

And rise contented too, and left enough for their friends.

Thou glutton at abuses, never satisfied?

I am perswaded thou devour'st more flouts

Than all thy body's worth, and still a hungred!

A mischief of that maw, prethee seek elsewhere,

Introth I am weary of abusing thee;

Get thee a fresh Mistriss, thou'st make work enough;

I do not think there's scorn enough in Town

To serve thy turn, take the Court-Ladies in,

And all their Women to 'em, that exceed 'em.

Sir Gr. Is this in earnest, Lady?

Neece. Oh unsatiable!

Dost thou count all this but an earnest yet?

I'd thought I'd paid thee all the whole sum, trust me;

Thou'lt begger my derision utterly

If thou stay'st longer, I shall want a laugh:

If I knew where to borrow a contempt

Would hold thee tack, stay and be hang'd, thou shouldst then:

But thou'st no conscience now to extort hate from me,

When one has spent all she can make upon thee;

Must I begin to pay thee hire again?

After I have rid thee twice? faith 'tis unreasonable.

Sir Gr. Say you so? I'll know that presently.

Neece. Now he runs

To fetch my Uncle to this musty bargain,

But I have better ware always at hand.

And lay by this still, when he comes to cheapen.

Cun. I met the Musick now, yet cannot learn

What entertainment he receiv'd from her.

Nee. There's some body set already, I must to't, I see,

Well, well, Sir Gregory?

Cun. Hah, Sir Gregory?

Nee. Where e'er you come, you may well boast your conquest.

Cun. She's lost y'faith, enough, has fortune then

Remembred her great boy? she seldom fails 'em.

Nee. H' was the unlikeliest man at first, methought,

To have my love, we never met but wrangled.

Cun. A pox upon that wrangling, say I still,

I never knew it fail yet, where e'er't came;

It never comes but like a storm of hail,

'Tis sure to bring fine weather at the tail on't,

There's not one match 'mongst twenty made without it,

It fights i' th' tongue, but sure to agree i' th' haunches.

Nee. That man that should ha' told me when time was.

I should ha' had him, had been laught at piteously,

But see how things will change!

Cun. Here's a heart feels it – Oh the deceitful promises of love!

What trust should a man put i' th' lip of woman?

She kist me with that strength, as if sh'ad meant

To ha' set the fair print of her soul upon me.

Nee. I would ha' sworn 'twould ne'er ha been a match once.

Cun. I'll hear no more, I'm mad to hear so much,

Why should I aim my thoughts at better fortunes

Than younger brothers have? that's a Maid with nothing,

Or some old Soap-boilers Widow, without Teeth,

There waits my fortune for me, seek no farther.

Old K. You tell me things, Sir Gregory, that cannot be.

She will not, nor she dares not.

Sir Gr. Would I were whipt then.

Nee. I'll make as little shew of love, Sir Gregory,

As ever Woman did, you shall not know

You have my heart a good while.

Old K. Heard you that?

Nee. Man will insult so soon, 'tis his condition,

'Tis good to keep him off as long as we can,

I've much ado, I swear; and love i' th' end

Will have his course, let Maids do what they can,

They are but frail things till they end in man.

Old K. What say you to this, Sir?

Sir Gr. This is somewhat handsome.

Nee. And by that little wrangling that I fain'd,

Now I shall try how constant his love is,

Although't went sore against my heart to chide him.

Sir Gr. Alas poor Gentlewoman.

Old K. Now y'are sure of truth,

You hear her own thoughts speak.

Sir Gr. They speak indeed.

Old K. Go, you're a brainless Coax; a Toy, a Fop,

I'll go no farther than your name, Sir Gr[egory]

I'll right my self there; were you from this place,

You should perceive I'm heartily angry with you,

Offer to sow strife 'twixt my Neece and I?

Good morrow Neece, good morrow.

Nee. Many fair ones to you, Sir.

Old K. Go, you're a Coxcomb. How dost Neece this morning?

An idle shallow fool: sleep'st thou well, Girl?

Fortune may very well provide thee Lordships,

For honesty has left thee little manners.

Sir Gr. How am I bang'd o'both sides!

Old K. Abuse kindnesse? Will't take the air to day Neece?

Nee. When you please, Sir,

There stands the Heir behind you I must take,

(Which I'd as lieve take, as take him I swear.)

Old K. La' you; do you hear't continued to your teeth now?

A pox of all such Gregories; what a hand

Have I with you!

Sir Gr. No more y'feck, I ha' done, Sir:

Lady, your Scarf's fal'n down.

Nee. 'Tis but your luck, Sir,

And does presage the Mistriss must fall shortly,

You may wear it, and you please.

Old K. There's a trick for you,

You're parlously belov'd, you should complain.

Sir Gr. Yes, when I complain, Sir,

Then do your worst, there I'll deceive you, Sir.

Old K. You are a Dolt, and so I leave you, Sir.

Sir Gr. Ah sirrah, Mistriss were you caught, i'faith?

We overheard you all; I must not know

I have your heart, take heed o' that, I pray,

I knew some Scarf would come.

Nee. He's quite gone, sure:

Ah you base Coxcomb, couldst thou come again?

And so abus'd as thou wast?

Sir Gr. How?

Nee. 'Twould ha' kill'd

A sensible man, he would ha' gone to his chamber,

And broke his heart by this time.

Sir Gr. Thank you heartily.

Nee. Or fixt a naked Rapier in a Wall,

Like him that earn'd his Knighthood, e'r he had it,

And then refus'd upon't, ran up to th' hilts.

Sir Gr. Yes, let him run for me, I was never brought up to't,

I never profest running i' my life.

Nee. What art thou made on? thou tough villanous vermin.

Will nothing destroy thee?

Sir Gr. Yes, yes, assure your self

Unkind words may do much.

Nee. Why, dost thou want 'em?

I've e'en consum'd my spleen to help thee to 'em:

Tell me what sort of words they be would speed thee?

I'll see what I can do yet.

Sir Gr. I'm much beholding to you,

You're willing to bestow huge pains upon me.

Nee. I should account nothing too much to rid thee.

Sir Gr. I wonder you'd not offer to destroy me,

All the while your Uncle was here.