ANTHONY

Well crafty Fox, you that work by wit, It may be, I may live to fit you yet. The news for me is bad; and this it is: Pisaro hath discharged me of his service. I, but I left out mediocrity, And with effectual reasons, urged your loves. O, that cannot be, He hates you far worse, then he hates me; For all the love he shows, is for your Lands, Which he Hope's sure will fallen into his hands: Yet Gentlemen, this comfort take of me, His Daughters to your loves affected be: Their father is abroad, they three at home, Go chearely in, and cease that is your own: And for my self, but grace what I intend, I'll overreach the Churl, and help my Friend. Pisaro did command Frisco his man, (A simple sot, kept only but for mirth) To inquire about in London for a man, That were a Frenchman and Musician, To be (as I suppose) his Daughters Tutor: Him if you meet, as Like enough you shall, He will inquire of you of his affairs; Then make him answer, you three came from Pauls, And in the middle walk, one you espied, Fit for his purpose; then describe this Cloak, This Beard and Hat: for in this borrowed shape, Must I beguile and overreach the Fool: The Maids must be acquainted with this drift. The Door does open, I dare not stay reply, Least being descried: Gentlemen adue, And help him now, that oft hath helped you. I beseech you Monsieur, give me audience. Pardon, sir mine uncivil and presumptuous in trusion, who endeavour nothing less, then to provoke or exasperat you against me. I am nominated Monsieur Le Mouche, and rest at your bon service. If I could not sir, I should ill understand you: you speak the best French that ever trodden upon Shoe of Leather. Yes sir, and you speak it Like a very Natural. I pray stop your mouth, fot I never herd such Dutch before brought. Yes sir, and that most willingly. A bots of all ill luck, how came these here? Now am I posed except the Wenches help me: I have no French to flap them in the mouth, A blessing on that tongue, says Anthony. No sir, I am yet undined. With as good a stomach and desire as your self. Why how now Frisco, why laughest thou so har tily? Well it is so: And we will have good sport, or it shall go hard; This must the Wenches know, or all is marred. Hark you M is. Moll, M is. Laurentia, M is. Matt, I have such news (my Girls) will make you smile. A Woman right, still longing, and with child, For every thing they hear, or light upon: Well if you be mad Wenches, hear it now, Now may your knaveries give the deadliest blow To night-walkers, eauese-droppers, or outlandish love, That ere was stristen. Then know: The Strangers your Outlandish loves, Appointed by your Father, comes this night In stead of Harvey, Heigham, and young Ned, Under their shadows to get to your bed: For Frisco simply told him why he went: I needs not to instruct, you can conceive, You are not Stocks nor Stones, but have some store Of wit and knavery too. Well said old honest huddles; here's a heap Of merry Lasses: Well, for my self, I'll High me to your Lovers, bid them mask With us at night, and in some corner stay Near to our house, where they may make some play Upon your rivals, and when they are gone, Come to your windows. Peace, begun; for this our sport, Some body soon will moorne. Byr'lady heres short work, hark you Girls, Will you to morrow marry with the strangers. Yes but your father swears, you shall have one. How will you get him? how will you get him? I know no other way except it be this, That when your father's in his soundest sleep, You open the Door and run away with them, 'Tis well resolved yfayth and Like your selves, But hear you? to your Chambers presently, Least that your father do descry our drift, Exeunt Sisters. Mistress Susan should come but she cannot, Nor perhaps shall not, yet perhaps she shall, Might not a man conceit a pretty jest? And make as mad a Riddle as this is, If all things fadge not, as all things should do, We shall be sped y'fayth, Matt shall have hue. What never storm, But bridle anger with wise government. Tut never say so, for Anthony Is not devoid of means to help his Friends. These menaces are vain, and helpeth nought: But I have in the depth of my conceit Found out a more material stratagem: Hark Master Walgraue, yours craves quick dispatch, About it straight, stay not to say farewell. Exit Walgraue. You Master Heigham, High you to your Chamber, And stir not forth, my shadow, or my self, Will in the morning early visit you; Built on my promise sir, and good night. Exit Heigham. Last, yet as great in love, as to the first: If you remember, once I told a jest, How feigning to be sick, a Friend of mine Possessed the happy issue of his Love: That counterfeited humour must you play; I needs not to instruct, you can conceive, Use master Brown your Host, as chief in this: But first, to make the matter seem more true, Sickly and sadly bid the churl good night; I hear him at the Window, there he is. Now for a trick to overreach the Devil. I tell you sir, you wrong my master much, And then to make amends, you give hard words: H'ath been a friend to you; nay more, a Father: I promise you, 'tis most ungently done. Excellent well in troth. Who's there, our three wise Woers, Blockhead our man? had he not been, They might have hanged them selves, For any Wenches they had hit upon: Good morrow, or good den, I know not whither. They did unkindly, who so ere they were, That plagued him here, Like Tantalus in Hell, To touch his Lips Like the desired Fruit, And then to snatch it from his gaping Chaps. Sir, I'll go in and see, And if I can, I'll let him down to you. Yes sir, now you may choose, whither yowl stay till I let him down, or whither I shall cut him down? What is your hasty running changed to prayer, Say, where were you going? 'Tis bootless trust me, for he is resolved To marry you to. Y faith he is. The day is broke; Mathea and young Ned, By this time, are so surely linked together, That none in London can forbid the Banes. Laurentia she is near provided for: So that if Haruies policy but hold, Elce-wheare the Strangers may go seek them Wives: But here they come. Now Anthony, this cottens as it should, And every thing sorts to his wished effect: Harvey joys Moll : my Dutchman and the French, Thinking all sure, laughs at Aluaros hap; But quickly I shall mar that merry vain, And make your Fortune's equal with your Friends. She did, she did; I brought her to her Chamber. Mass now I remember me, I lie indeed. Pisaro your Father would have me read moral Phi losophy. First tell me how you Like it? Gentlewomen, to paint Philosophy, Is to present youth with so sour a dish, As their abhorring stomachs nill digests. When first my mother Oxford (England's pride) Fostered me puple-like, with her rich store, My study was to read Philosophy: But since, my headstrong youths unbridled will, Scorning the leaden fetters of restraint, Hath prunde my feahers to a higher pitch. Gentlewomen, Moral Philosophy is a kind of art, The most contrary to your tender sexes; It teaches to be graven: and on that brow, Where Beauty in her rarest glory shines, Plants the sad semblance of decayed age: Those Weeds that with their riches should adorn, And grace fair Nature's curious workmanship, Must be converted to a black faced vail, Griefs livery, and Sorrows semblance: Your food must be your hearts abundant sighs, Steeped in the brinish licquor of your tears: Daylight as dark-night, dark-night spent in prayer: Thoughts your companions, and repentant minds, The recreation of your tired spirits: Gentlewomen, if you can Like this modesty, Then will I read to you Philosophy. No Gentlewomen, Anthony hath learned To read a Lector of more pleasing worth. Marina, read these lines, young Harvey sent them, There every line repugnes Philosophy : Then love him, for he hates the thing thou hates. Laurentia, this is thine from Ferdinand : Think every golden circle that thou seest, The rich unvalued circle of his worth. Mathea, with these Gloves thy Ned salutes thee; As often as these, hide these from the Sun, And Wanton steals a kiss from thy fair hand, Presents his serviceable true hearts zeal, Which waits upon the censure of thy doom: What though their Lands be mortgaged to your Father; Yet may your Dowries redeem that debt: Think they are Gentlemen, and think they love; And be that thought, their true loves advocate. Say you should wed for Wealth; for to that scope Your Father's greedy disposition tends, The world would say, that you were had for Wealth, And so fair Beauties honour quite distinct: A mass of Wealth being powrde upon another, Little augments the show, although the sum; But being lightly scattered by it self, It doubles what it seemed, although but one: Even so your selves, for wedded to the Rich, His style was as it was, a Rich man still: But wedding these, to wed true Love, is duty: You make them rich in Wealth, but more in Beauty: I needs not plead that smile, that smile shows hearts con sent, That kiss showed love, that on that gift was lent: And last thine Eyes, that tears of true joy sends, As comfortable tidings for my friends. Then you would kiss him? Nay I say nothing to it, but Amen. Here sir. Why sir, I taught them not to keep a Merchants Book, or cast account: yet to a word much Like that word Account. Nothing, but that his Daughters learn Philosophy. Vous, thats you: sure he says, how do men call you Monsieur le Mouche ? No, no, you may soon smel the Dutchmans lodge king: Now for a Figure: Out alas, what's yonder? Stay, Stay Marina, and advise you better, It is not Force, but Policy must serve: The Doors are locked, your Father keeps the Key, Wherefore unpossible to escape away: Yet have I plotted, and devised a drift, To frustrate your intended marriages, And give you full possession of your joys: Laurentia, ere the morning's light appear, You must play Anthony in my disguise. Soft, soft, you are too forward Girls, I swear, For you some other drift devised must be? One shadow for a substance: this is she. Nay weep not sweets, repose upon my care, For all alike, or good or bade shall share: You will have Harvey, you Heigham, and you Ned ; You shall have all your wish, or be I dead: For sooner may one day the Sea lie still, Then once restrain a Woman of her will. Not gifts, but your contentment's I desire: To help my Countrymen I cast about, For Strangers loves blaze fresh, but soon burn out: Sweet rest dwell here, and frightful fear obiure, These eyes shall wake to make your rest secure: For ere again dull night the dull eyes charms, Each one shall fouled her Husband in her arms: Which if it chance, we may avouch it still, Women & Maids will always have their will. Mathea (and it Like you) feign would sleep, but only tarrieth for her bedfellow. 'Tis well, 'tis well: but this let me request, You keep unknown, till you be laid to rest: And then a good hand speed you. For my Cloak, sir. Master Balsaro ; I know not who you mean. Sent me for him: why sir, you sent not me, I neither went for him, nor for the Parson: I am glad to see your Worship is so merry. Knock. Who I sir, mean you me? you are a jesting man. So swear I still, I went not forth to day. Laugh, why should I laugh? or why art thou so merry?