A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Xi Part 3

PEN. Heart! I should follow you like a young rank wh.o.r.e, That runs proud of her love; pluck you by the sleeve, Whoe'er were with you, in the open street, With the impudency of a drunken oyster-wife; Put on my fighting waistcoat and the ruff, That fears no tearing; batter down the windows, Where I suspected you might lie all night; Scratch faces, like a wild-cat of Pick'd-hatch.[16]

C. FRED. Pendant, thou'lt make me doat upon myself.

PEN. Narcissus, by this hand, had far less cause.

C. FRED. How know'st thou that?

BOY. They were all one, my lord.

PEN. How do I know? I speak my conscience: His beauties were but shadows to my lord.

Why, boy, his presence would enkindle sin And longing thoughts in a devoted nun.

O foot! O leg! O hand! O body! face!

By Jove, it is a little man of wax.

C. FRED. Thou'rt a rare rascal: 'tis not for nothing That men call thee my Commendations.

BOY. For nothing? no; he would be loth it should.

_Enter_ CAPTAIN POUTS.

C. FRED. Good morrow, and good welcome, Captain Pouts.

CAPT. POUTS. _Good morning to your honour, and all joy Spring from this match, and the first year a boy!_ I commanded[17] these two verses o' purpose to salute your honour.

C. FRED. But how haps it, Captain, that your intended marriage with my father-in-law's third daughter is not solemnised to-day?

PEN. My lord tells you true, Captain; it would have saved meat.

CAPT. POUTS. Faith, I know not. Mistress Kate likes me not; she says I speak as if I had pudding in my mouth, and I answered her, if I had, it was a white pudding,[18] and then I was the better armed for a woman; for I had a case about me. So one laughed, and the other cried fie: the third said I was a bawdy captain; and there was all I could get of them.

C. FRED. See, boy, if they be up yet: maids are long liers, I perceive.

BOY. How if they will not admit me, my lord.

C. FRED. Why, should they not admit you, my lord, you cannot commit with 'em, my lord.

BOY. Marry, therefore, my lord. [_Exit_ BOY.

C. FRED. But what should be the reason of her so sudden alteration? she listened to thee once, ha?

PEN. Have you not heard, my lord, or do ye not know?

C. FRED. Not I, I swear.

PEN. Then you know nothing that is worth the knowing.

CAPT. POUTS. That's certain: he knows you.

PEN. There's a young merchant, a late suitor, that deals by wholesale, and heir to land, well-descended, of worthy education, beholding to nature.

C. FRED. O, 'tis young Strange.

CAPT. POUTS. Is't he that looks like an Italian tailor out of the lac'd wheel?[19] that wears a bucket on his head?

C. FRED. That is the man: yet believe me, captain, it is a n.o.ble sprightly citizen.

CAPT. POUTS. Has he money?

C. FRED. Infinitely wealthy.

CAPT. POUTS. Then, captain, thou art cast. Would I had gone to Cleveland! Worldly loves money better than I love his daughter. I'll to some company in garrison. Good bye.

C. FRED. Nay, ye shall dedicate this day to me.

We speak but by the way, man: ne'er despair; I can a.s.sure you, she is yet as free as air.

PEN. And you may kill the merchant with a look: I'd threaten him to death. My honor'd lord Shall be your friend: go to, I say he shall: You shall have his good word. Shall he, my lord?

C. FRED. 'Sfoot! he shall have my bond to do him good.

PEN. La! 'tis the worthiest lord in Christendom.

O captain, for some fourscore brave spirits, once To follow such a lord in some attempt!

CAPT. POUTS. A hundred, sir, were better.

_Enter_ OLD SIR INNOCENT NINNY, MY LADY NINNY, SIR ABRAHAM, _and_ MISTRESS WAGTAIL.

C. FRED. Here's more guests.

CAPT. POUTS. Is that man and wife?

PEN. It is Sir Innocent Ninny: that's his lady, And that Sir Abraham, their only son.

[_Count Frederick discoursing with Sir Innocent and Lady: Abraham looking about._

CAPT. POUTS. But did that little old dried neat's tongue, that eel-skin, get him?

PEN. So 'tis said, captain.

CAPT, POUTS. Methinks he in his lady should show like a needle in a bottle of hay.

PEN. One may see by her nose what pottage she loves.

CAPT. POUTS. Is your name Abraham? Pray, who dwells in your mother's backside,[20] at the sign of the aqua-vitae bottle?

PEN. G.o.d's precious! Save you, Mistress Wagtail.

[_Pulls her by the sleeve._

WAG. Sweet Master Pendant.

ABRA. Gentlemen, I desire your better acquaintance. You must pardon my father; he's somewhat rude, and my mother grossly brought up, as you may perceive.