The Scornful Lady Part 17

_Lady_. By this light hee'll beat us.

_Elder Lo_. You do deserve it richly, And may live to have a Beadle doe it.

_Lady_. Now he rails.

_Elder Lo_. Come scornfull Folly, If this be railing, you shall hear me rail.

_Lady_. Pray put it in good words then.

_Elder Lo_. The worst are good enough for such a trifle, Such a proud piece of Cobweblawn.

_Lady_. You bite Sir?

_Elder Lo_. I would till the bones crackt, and I had my will.

_Mar_. We had best muzzel him, he grows mad.

_Elder Lo_. I would 'twere lawfull in the next great sickness to have the Dogs spared, those harmless creatures, and knock i'th' head these hot continual plagues, women, that are more infectious. I hope the State will think on't.

_Lady_. Are you well Sir?

_Mar_. He looks as though he had a grievous fit o'th' Colick.

_Elder Lo_. Green-ginger will cure me.

_Abig_. I'le heat a trencher for him.

_Elder Lo_. Durty _December_ doe, Thou with a face as old as _Erra Pater_, such a Prognosticating nose: thou thing that ten years since has left to be a woman, outworn the expectation of a Baud; and thy dry bones can reach at nothing now, but gords or ninepins, pray goe fetch a trencher goe.

_Lady_. Let him alone, he's crack't.

_Abig_. I'le see him hang'd first, is a beastly fellow to use a woman of my breeding thus; I marry is he: would I were a man, I'de make him eat his Knaves words!

_Elder Lo_. Tie your she Otter up, good Lady folly, she stinks worse than a Bear-baiting.

_Lady_. Why will you be angry now?

_Elder Lo_. Goe paint and purge, call in your kennel with you: you a Lady?

_Abi_. Sirra, look to't against the quarter Sessions, if there be good behaviour in the world, I'le have thee bound to it.

_Elder Lo_. You must not seek it in your Ladies house then; pray send this Ferret home, and spin good _Abigal_. And Madam, that your Ladis.h.i.+p may know, in what base manner you have us'd my service, I do from this hour hate thee heartily; and though your folly should whip you to repentance, and waken you at length to see my wrongs, 'tis not the endeavour of your life shall win me; not all the friends you have, intercession, nor your submissive letters, though they spoke as many tears as words; not your knees grown to th' ground in penitence, nor all your state, to kiss you; nor my pardon, nor will to give you Christian burial, if you dye thus; so farewell. When I am married and made sure, I'le come and visit you again, and vex you Ladie. By all my hopes I'le be a torment to you, worse than a tedious winter. I know you will recant and sue to me, but save that labour: I'le rather love a fever and continual thirst, rather contract my youth to drink and sacerdote upon quarrels, or take a drawn wh.o.r.e from an Hospital, that time, diseases, and _Mercury_ had eaten, than to be drawn to love you.

_Lady_. Ha, ha, ha, pray do, but take heed though.

_Elder Lo_. From thee, false dice, jades, Cowards, and plaguy Summers, good Lord deliver me. [_Exit_ Elder Love.

_Lady_. But hark you Servant, hark ye: is he gon? call him again.

_Abigal_. Hang him Paddock.

_Lady_. Art thou here still? flie, flie, and call my Servant, flie or ne'r see me more.

_Abigal_. I had rather knit again than see that rascall, but I must doe it. [_Exit_ Abigal.

_Lady_. I would be loth to anger him too much; what fine foolery is this in a woman, to use those men most forwardly they love most? If I should lose him thus, I were rightly served. I hope he's not so much himself, to take it to th'heart: how now? will he come back?

_Enter_ Abigal.

_Abig_. Never, he swears, whilst he can hear men say there's any woman living: he swore he would ha' me first.

_Lady_. Didst thou intreat him wench?

_Abigal_. As well as I could Madam. But this is still your way, to love being absent, and when he's with you, laugh at him and abuse him. There's another way if you could hit on't.

_Lady_. Thou saist true, get me paper, pen and ink, I'le write to him, I'de be loth he should sleep in's anger. Women are most fools when they think th'are wisest.

[_Ex. Omnes._

_Musick. Enter_ Young Loveless, _and_ Widow, _going to be Married, with them his_ Comrades.

_Widow_. Pray Sir cast off these fellows, as unfitting for your bare knowledge, and far more your companie: is't fit such Ragam.u.f.fins as these are should bear the name of friends? and furnish out a civil house? ye're to be married now, and men that love you must expect a course far from your old carrier: if you will keep 'em, turn 'em to th' stable, and there make 'em grooms: and yet now consider it, such beggars once set o' horse back, you have heard will ride, how far you had best to look.

_Captain_. Hear you, you that must be Ladie, pray content your self and think upon your carriage soon at night, what dressing will best take your Knight, what wastcote, what cordial will do well i'th' morning for him, what triers have you?

_Widow_. What do you mean Sir?

_Capt_. Those that must switch him up: if he start well, fear not but cry Saint _George_, and bear him hard: when you perceive his wind growes hot and wanting, let him a little down, he's fleet, ne're doubt him, and stands sound.

_Widow_. Sir, you hear these fellows?

_Young Love_. Merrie companions, wench, Merry companions.

_Widow_. To one another let 'em be companions, but good Sir not to you: you shall be civil and slip off these base trappings.

_Cap_. He shall not need, my most swee[t] Ladie Grocer, if he be civil, not your powdered Sugar, nor your Raisins shall perswade the Captain to live a c.o.xcomb with him; let him be civil and eat i'th' _Arches_, and see what will come on't.

_Poet_. Let him be civil, doe: undo him; I, that's the next way. I will not take (if he be civil once) two hundred pound a year to live with him; be civil? there's a trim perswasion.

_Capt_. If thou beest civil Knight, as _Jove_ defends it, get thee another nose, that will be pull'd off by the angry boyes for thy conversion: the children thou shalt get on this Civillian cannot inherit by the law, th'are _Ethnicks_, and all thy sport meer Moral leacherie: when they are grown, having but little in 'em, they may prove Haberdashers, or gross Grocers, like their dear Damm there: prethee be civil Knight, in time thou maist read to thy houshold, and be drunk once a year: this would shew finely.

_Young Lo_. I wonder sweet heart you will offer this, you do not understand these Gentlemen: I will be short and pithy: I had rather cast you off by the way of charge: these are Creatures, that nothing goes to the maintenance of but Corn and Water. I will keep these fellows just in the competencie of two Hens.

_Wid_. If you can cast it so Sir, you have my liking. If they eat less, I should not be offended: But how these Sir, can live upon so little as Corn and Water, I am unbelieving.

_Young Lo_. Why prethee sweet heart what's your Ale? is not that Corn and Water, my sweet Widow?

_Wid_. I but my sweet Knight where's the meat to this, and cloaths that they must look for?

_Young Lo_. In this short sentence Ale, is all included: Meat, Drink, and Cloth; These are no ravening Footmen, no fellows, that at Ordinaries dare eat their eighteen pence thrice out before they rise, and yet goe hungry to play, and crack more nuts than would suffice a dozen Squirrels; besides the din, which is d.a.m.nable: I had rather rail, and be confin'd to a _Boatmaker_, than live amongst such rascals; these are people of such a clean discretion in their diet, of such a moderate sustenance, that they sweat if they but smell hot meat. _Porredge_ is poison, they hate a Kitchin as they hate a Counter, and show 'em but a Feather-bed they swound. Ale is their eating and their drinking surely, which keeps their bodies clear, and soluble. Bread is a binder, and for that abolisht even in their Ale, whose lost room fills an apple, which is more airy and of subtiler nature. The rest they take is little, and that little is little easie: For like strict men of order, they do correct their bodies with a bench, or a poor stubborn table; if a chimny offer it self with some few broken rushes, they are in down: when they are sick, that's drunk, they may have fresh straw, else they do despise these worldly pamperings. For their poor apparel, 'tis worn out to the diet; new they seek none, and if a man should offer, they are angrie, scarce to be reconcil'd again with him: you shall not hear 'em ask one a cast doublet once in a year, which is modesty befitting my poor friends: you see their _Wardrobe_, though slender, competent: For s.h.i.+rts I take it, they are things worn out of their remembrance. Lousie they will be when they list, and _mangie_, which shows a fine variety: and then to cure 'em, a _Tanners_ limepit, which is little charge, two dogs, and these; these two may be cur'd for 3. pence.