CRIPPLE

Now you supporters of decrepit youth, That mount this substance betwixt fair heaven and earth, Be strong to bear that huge deformity, And be my hands as nimble to direct them, As your desires to waft me hence to London. My thinks I hear the found of ravishment. Marry and will, knew I but where, and how. What do I see? Thieves full of lust beset virginity! Now stir thee cripple, and of thy four legs Make use of one, to do a virgin good: Hence ravening curs: what, are you at a prey? Will nothing satisfy your greedy chaps But virgins flesh? I'll teach you prey on carrion, Fight & Beatrice them away. Pack damned ravishers, hence villains. Give God the glory that gave me the power. Hereafter more of this; but tell me now The cause of these events, the effect, and how. Y faith she is and honourable Lady, And I much wonder that her Ladyship Gives entertain to such bade men as these. Mongrel, isle choose. Hold, forbear. I came in rescue of Virginity. Thanks worthy sir, may but the Cripple be, Of power to gratify this courtesy, I then shall think the heavens favour me. If I do live, your love I'll recompense. Exeunt. As much to thee my humorous blossom. Who became your bail? In a wenches counter! I thought no less: what sirrah didst thou lie in the Knights ward, or on the masters side? Where then, in the Hold? My crutch you mean for wearing out my clothes. Finely put off wench i'faith. Yes, and here it is. At your pleasure. She hath a wit as sharp as her needle. In th'Exchange! I have walked with thee there, before the visitation of my legs, and my expense in timber, at the least a hundred times, and never herd thee speak to a wench. True, that thou thoughtest it had been a shilling, ma ry thou hadst never and other, nor so much as a shilling more to change it. Thou talk in th'Exchange! Oh thou art one of those, that if and honest Maid be sent to thy chamber with her Mistress goods, and return as honest and chaste as the moon: Sirrah, you are one of those that will slander the poor wenches, by speaking liberally of their proneness to love; and withal, brag how cheap you have bought their beware metaphorically, when indeed they depart as honest as they came thither, and leave you all the day after to sighs at the sighed of and ill bargain. When wilt thou cast off this antic garment of oh stentation? do it, do it, or by the Lord I will impress thy vam nities, and so anotomize the very bowels of thy absurdities, that all the world shall take notice of thee for a fool, and shun thee as the pox or the pestilence. Not I. I have business. By this leg I will not. By this crutch but I will. The forfeit of his bound! And you want words sirrah, isle teach thee words; Thou shouldst have come to every one of us As thus: thou wretch, thou miser thou vild slave And drudge to money, bondman to thy wealth, Apprentice to a penny, thou that hourds up The fry of silver pence and half-penies, With show of charity to give the poor, But puttest them to increase, where in short time They grow a child's partly, or a daughters portion. Thou that invents new clauses for a bound To cousin simple plainness: Oh not a Dragon, No, nor the devils fangs are half so cruel As are thy claws; thus, thus thou shouldst have railde: The forfeit of his bound, Oh I could spit My heart into his face; thou bloodhound that dost hunt The deer, deer life of noble Gentry. My business stays me here. Also one, my heart shall be as light as fire: Sblood, were I indebted a hundred pound, My fortune failed, and fled as Barnard's are, Not worth a hundred pence as Barnard's is: I should be now devising sentences And Caveats, for posterity to carve Upon the inside of the counter wall: Therefore I'll now turn provident; I'll to my shop And fallen to work. Welcome Mistress Flower, whats your pleasure? Sweet fair, I pity, yet no relief Harbors within the closet of my soul: This Phillis bears me true affection, But I detest the humour of found love: Yet am I hourly solicited As now you see, and feign she would make known The true perplexion of her wounded heart: But modesty checking her forwardness Bids her be still; yet she in similes And love-comparisons, Like a good Scholar By figures makes a demonstration Of the true love enclosed in her heart. I know it well, yet will not tell her so, Fancy shall never marry me to woe; Take this of me, a young man's never marred, Till he by marriage from all joy be bared. Exit. Welcome honest friend; whats thy will with me? With all my heart: I know the maid to whom it is directed. I pray you, what Gentleman writ the same? Why art thou persuaded, or haste thou any hope, So beautiful a virgin as she is, Of such fair parentage; so virtuous, So gentle, kind, and wise as Phillis is, That she will take remorse of such base stuff, I think not so: but let me see, whats thy name? How comes it then your blinded Secretary, Hath writ another name unto the letter? Yours devoted Anthony Golding. But sure this letter is no right of thine, Either thou foundest the same by happy chance, Or being employed as a Messenger, Plaidest leger dumaine with him that sent the same: Wherefore the maid (well known unto my self) I will reserve the letter to her use, That she, if by the name herein set down, She know the Gentleman that does wish her well, She may be grateful for his courtesy. Assure thy self I will not injure thee. Sir, what I promised I will now perform; My love is yours, my life to do you good, Which to approve, follow me but in all, Weel gull your brother's in the wench, and all. Then let me see this letter; it should see me You undertook to carry from your brother To the maid. Well, list to me, and follow my advise, You shall deliver neither of them both; But frame two letters of your own invention, Letters of flat denial to their suits, Give them to both your brother's as from Phillis, And let each line in either Letter tend To the dispraise of both their features; And the conclusion I would have set down, A flat resolve bound with some zealous oath, Never to yield to either of their suits: And if this sort not well to your content, Condemn the Cripple. Why then my self will fit you presently, I have the Copies in my custody, Of sundry Letters to the same effect. My own I assure you, sir. Why, thinkest thou that I cannot write a letter, Ditty, or Sonnet with judicial phrase, As pretty, pleasing, and pathetical, As the best Ovid -imitating dance In all the town. Yea, isle swear I cannot, Yet sirrah, I could conny-catch the world, Make my self famous for a sudden wit, And be admire for my dexterity, Were I disposed. Why thus there lived a Poet in this town, (If we may term our modern Writers Poets) Sharp-witted, bitter-tongd, his pen of steel, His ink was tempered with the biting juice, And extracts of the bitterest weeds that grew, He never wrote but when the elements Of Fire and Water tilted in his brain: This fellow ready to give up his ghost To Lucia's bosom, did bequeath to me His Library, which was joust nothing, But rolls, and scrolls, and bundles of cast wit, Such as durst never visit Pauls churchyard: Amongst them all, I happened on a choir Or two of paper filled with Songs and Ditties, And here and there a hungry Epigram, These I reserve to my own proper use, And Pater-noster-like have kon'd them all. I could now when I am in company, At ale house, tavern, or and ordinary, Upon a theme make and extemporal ditty, (Or one at least should seem extemporal) Out of abundance of this Legacy, That all would judge it, and report it too, To be the infant of a sudden wit, And then were I and admirahle fellow. I could do more, for I could make enquiry Where the best witted Gallants use to dine, Follow them to the tavern, and there fit In the next room with a calves head and brimstone, And over hear their talk, observe their humours, Collect their jests, put them into a play, And tire them too with payment to behold What I have filched from them. This I could do: But Oh for shame that men should so arraign Their own fee simple wits, for verbal theft! Yet men there be that have done this and that, And more by much more than the most of them. Sirrah Bowdler, what makes thee in this merry vain? Who would think this Gentleman yesterday's dis temperature should breed such motions? I think it be resto ratiue to activity, I never saw a gentleman caper so excellent, as he did last night. Your own self, by this hand. How, gull you! Me thinks a man so well reputed of, So well commended for your qualities In Schools of nimble activeness, And places where divinest Querristers Warble enchanting harmony, to such As think there is no heaven on earth but theirs: And knowing your self to be the Genius Of the spectators, and the audience hearts, You wrong your worthy self intolerably, To think our words savour of flattery. Before God passing well. After the working of your purgation, was it not? After the purging of your brain Sir. Far better than I can commend it. What say you to your sweet heart, Mall Berry ? See where she comes, Oh excellent! Whats the matter man? She is a saint indeed; Zounds to her, court her, win her, wear her, wed her, and bed her too. Why no, but at a woman you have; Oh sir, seem not so doultish now, can you make nofustian, ask her if sheele take a pipe of Tobacco. Why thats the very quintessence of love, If you remember but a verse or two, I'll pawn my head, goods, lands and all 'twill do. Take heed, she's not on horseback. What master Bowdler, have you let her pass vncon querd? You are very eloquent, sir; but Fiddle, whats the best news abroad? Nay, be friends, be friends. Come, come, all shall be well. M. Bowdler, how do you Like his humour? Farewell sweet Signiors both, farewell, farewell. Exeunt. About it then, assume this shape of mine, Take what I have. for all I have is thine? Supply my place, to gain thy hearts desire, So may you quench too hearts that burn Like fire: She's kind to me, be she as kind to you, What admiration will there then ensue? Frank, I will leave thee, now be thou fortunate, That we with joy your loves may consummate, Farewell, farewell, when I return again, I hope to find three in a pleasing vain. Exit. I am too base. I am deformed. Your friends dislike brings all this out of frame. Hast thou then, sweet blood, been fortunate? Good fortune wait on thee. Sweet Seignior, the sweet Nymph's work is almost finished, but sweet blood, you driven me into admiration with your latter words, your sweet wives work, I admire it! A endue found humorist, Parenthesis of jests, Whose humour Like a needless Cypher sils a room: But now Mall Berry, a word or two with you: Hast thou forgotten Barnet ? thy thoughts were bent on him. It was for love, why not for marriage? Oh monstrous! Were I a maid and should be so bewitched, I'de pull my eyes out that did lend me light, Exclaim against my fortune, ban my stars, And tear my heart, so yielding her consent To Bowdlers love, that froth of compliment. I will; thou dost love Barnard, and I can prove it. Thou lovest him, once again I say, thou lovest him, For all thou hast born Bowdler still in hand. I say thou lovest him: have not I been at home, And herd thee in thy chamber praise his person, And say he is a proper little man, And pray that he would be a suitor to thee? Have I not seen thee in the Bay-window To fit cross-arid, take counsel of thy glass, And prune thy self to please young Barnard's eye? Some times curling thy hair, then practising smiles, Sometime rubbing thy filthy butter-teeth, Then pull the hairs from off thy beetle-brows. Painting the veins upon thy breasts with blue, And hundred other tricks I saw thee use, And all for Barnard. I say, for Barnard. Nay more, thou knowest I lay one night at home, And in thy sleep I herd thee call on Barnard Twenty times over. I, I will swear it: And art thou not ashamed thus to be change, To leave the love of a kind Gentleman To dote on Bowdler ? Fie, fie, reclaim thy self: Embrace thy Barnard, take him for thy husband, And save his credit, who is else undone, By thy hard father's hateful cruelty. Why isle be sworn thou didst. I'll be sworn I could not sleep all night In the next room, thou didst so rave on him. Whats the mater wench? Wilt thou i'faith? Give me thy hand, a bargain, 'tis enough. Why thus: I will entreat the Sergeants To go with him along unto thy father, And by the way isle send young Bowdler from us, And then acquaint my Barnard with thy love, He shall accept it and avouch the same Unto thy father, wench do thou the Like, And then I hope his bonds are canceled. My friends, hold here, theres money for your pains Walk with your prisoner but to master Berry, And you shall either find sufficient bail, Or else discharge the debt, or I assure you Weel be your aid to Guard him safe to prison. Along then; hark master Bowdler. Exeunt. Gentlemen sweet bloods, or brothers of familiarity, I would speak with Phillis, shall I have audience? True master Bowdler, I yield it you, I hold you for the absolutst jester; Oh mistake me not, I mean to jest upon, a juggling gull, a profound seeing man of shallow wit, that Europe, nam the world I think affords. Do it in time, or I'll crush the heart of thy wit till I have strained forth thy infectious humour to a drop i'faith. Welcome mistress Berry, I have been mindful of your work. I have them ready for you, here they be, Give these to your two brother's, say that Phillis Delivered them with frowns, and though her name Be not subscribde (which may not well be done) It may perhaps give them occasion To think she scorned them so much grace and favour. This done, return to me, and let me know Occurrants of this prastise as they grow, And so farewell, I can no longer stand To talk with you, I have some work in hand. Exit. So much for that, now listen further Frank, Not yet two hours expiration, Have taken final end, since Beauty's pride, And Nature's better partly of workmanship, Beauteous Phillis was with me consorted; Where she amongst other pleasing conference, Burst into terms of sweet affection, And said, ere long she would converse with me In private at my shop, whose wounded soul Struck with loves golden arrow lives in dread, Till she do hear the sentence of my love, Or be condemned by judgement of fell hate. Now since that gracious opportunity Thus smiles on me, I will resign the same To you my friend, knowing my unworthy self Too foul for such a beauty, and too base To match in brightness with that sacred comet. That shines Like Phaebus in Londons Element; From whence inferior stars derive their light: Wherefore I will immediately you take My crooked habit, and in that disguise Court her, yea win her, for she will be won, This will I do, to pleasure you my friend. Sweet signior, my advise in the reservation of those Letters, Which I will have you hide from eye of day, Never to feel the warmth of Phœbus beams, Till my selves care, most careful of your weal, Summon those lines unto the bar of Joy. But hear you sir? reading so much as you have done, Do you not remember one pretty phrase, To scale the walls of a fair wenches love? Fiddle 'tis done, & peace it is, continued ̄ mend me to thy mistress. Thats true, they cost thee and English shilling at a word, marry it follows in the text, that your shilling proved but a harper, and thou Wertenberg shamefully arraigned for it.