GENEROUS

Robin. Go call your Mistress hither. But what times hath she sorted for these journeys? I know her a good woman and well bred, Of and unquestioned carriage, well reputed Amongst her neighbours, reckoned with the best And over me most indulgent; though in many Such things might breed a doubt and jealousy, Yet I hatch no such frenzy. Yet to prevent The smallest jar that might betwixt us happen; Give her no notice that I know thus much. Beside I charge thee, when she craves him next He be denied: if she be vexed or moved Do not thou fear, I'll interpose my self Betwixt thee and her anger, as you tender Your duty and my service, see this done. So much for that. Sirrah my Butler tells me My Seller is drunk dry, I mean those Bottles Of Sack and Claret, are all empty grown And I have guests to morrow, my choice friends. Take the grey Nag i'th' stable, and those Bottles Fill at Lancaster, There where you use to fetch it. Oh Robin, it comes short of that pure liquour We drunk last Term in London at the Mitre In Fleetstreet, thou remembrest it; me thought It was the very spirit of the Grape, Mere quintessence of Wine. Go hasten your return, what he hath told me Touching my wife is somewhat strange, no matter Be't as it will, it shall not trouble me. She hath not lyen so long so near my side, That now I should be jealous. Though I could tax you friend, & justly too For begging against the Statute in that name, Yet I have ever been of that compassion, Where I see want, rather to pity it Than to use power. Where hast thou served? And fill thy bottles too, and come home half drunk too, for so thou art, thou wouldst never a had such a fancy else! Oh are you so! and why have you abused me and your self then all this while, to glorify the Mitre in Fleetstreet? I said, and I say again, if I were within ten mile of London, I durst swear that this was Mitre Wine, and drawn by honest Jack Pain. Nay be not angry Robin, we must not partly so, and how does my honest Drawer? would, would, would; and what news at Lon done, Robin? would, would, would; but your stay was so short I think you cooed hear none, and such your haste home that you cooed make none: is't not so Robin? would, would, would, what a strange fancy has good Wine begotten in his head? Come on, now let me hear. What shall we hear now? I see what Man is loath to entertain, Offers it self to him most frequently, And that which we most covet to embrace, Does seldom court us, and proves most averse; For I, that never cooed conceive a thought Of this my woman worthy a rebuke, (As one that in her youth boar her so fairly That she was taken for a seeming Saint) To render me such just occasion, That I should now distrust her in her age; Distrust! I cannot, that would bring me in The poor aspersion of found jealousy; Which even from our first meeting I abhorred. The Gentile fashion sometime we observe To sunder beds; but most in these hight months June, July August, so we did last night. Now I (as ever tender of her health) And therefore rising early as I use, Entering her Chamber to bestow on her A customed Visit; find the Pillow swelled, Unbruised with any weight, the sheets unruffled, The Curtains neither drawn, nor bed laid down; Which shows, she slept not in my house to night. Should there be any contract betwixt her And this my Groom, to abuse my honest trust; I should not take it well, but for all this Yet cannot I be jealous. Robin Is my horse safe, lusty, and in good plighted? What, feeds he well? When was he rid last? irrah, take heed I find you not a Knave, Have you not lent him to your Mistress late? So late as this last Night? Sirrah, your Mistress was abroad all night, Nor is she yet come home, if there I find him not, I shall find thee, what to this present hour I never did suspect; and I must tell there Will not be to thy profit. Yes, I have. A beast thou art to tell me so, hath the wine Not yet left working? not the Mitre wine? That made thee to believe Witchera to? Prithee persuade me, To be a worser unken Sot Like to thy self; And not to know mine own. Well Robert, for this once I'll play the Groom, And do your office for you. My blood is turned to Ice, and my all vitals Have ceased their working! dull stupidity Surpriseth me at once, and hath arrested That vigorous agitation; Which till now Expressed a life within me: I me thinks Am a mere Marble statue, and no man; Unweave my age Oh time, to my first thread; Let me lose fifty years in ignorance spent: That being made and infant once again, I may begin to know, what? or where am I To be thus lost in wonder. Amazement still pursues me, how am I changed Or brought ere I can understand my self, Into this new World. This makes me believe all, I any thing; And that my self am nothing: prithee Robin Lay me to my open, what art thou, Or this new transformed Creature? A Bridle, hence enchantment, A Viper were more safe within my hand Then this charmed Engine A Witch! my wife a Witch! Keep aloof, and do not come too near me, Oh my trust; Have since first I understood my self, Been of my soul so chary, still to study What best was for it's health, to renounce all The works of that black Fiend with my best force And hath that Serpent twined me so about, That I must lie so often and so long With a Devil in my bosom! Pardon! Can such a thing as that be hoped? Lift up thine eyes (lost woman) to the Hills; It must be thence expected: look not down Unto that horrid dwelling, which thou hast sought At such deer rate to purchase, prithee tell me, (For now I can believe) art thou a Witch? With that word I am thunderstrooke, And know not what to answer, yet resolve me Hast thou mad any contract with that Fiend The Enemy of Mankind? What? and how far? Ten thousand times better thy Body had Been promised to the Stake, I and mine too, To have suffered with thee in a hedge of flames: Then such a compact for had been made. O— Resolve me, how far does that contract stretch? Oh cunning Devil, foolish woman know Where he can claim but the least little partly, He will usurp rhe whole; that art a lost woman. Why hast thou any hope? Make it appear to me. I would see some of them. Tell me, are those tears As full of true hearted penitence, As mine of sorrow, to behold what state What desperate state th'art fallen in. Rise, and as I do, so heaven pardon me; We all offend, but from such falling off, Defend us. Well, I do remember wife, When I first took thee, 'twas for good and bade; Oh change thy bade to good, that I may keep thee, As that n we passed our faiths, till Death us sever. I will not aggravate thy grief too much, By Needles iteration: Robin hereafter Forget thou hast a tongue, if the least Syllable Of what hath passed be rumoured, you lose me; But if I find you faithful, you gain me ever. Oh woman thou hadst needs to weep thy self Into a fountain, such a penitent spring As may have power to quench invisible flames In which my eyes shall aid ; too little all, If not too little, all's forgiven, forgotten; Only thus much remember, thou hadst extermined Thy self out of the blessed society Of Saints and Angels, but on thy repentance I take thee to my Bosom, once again, My wife, sister, and daughter: saddle my Gelding, Some business that may hold me for two days Calls me aside. Robin, the last night that I lodged at home My Wife (if thou remembrest) lay abroad, But no words of that. I rose thus early much before my hour, To take her in her bed It's yet not five: The Sun scarce up. Those horses take and lead'em Into the Stable, see them rubbed and dressed, We have rid hard. Now in the interim I Will step and see how my new Miller fares, Or whither he slept better in his charge, Than those which did precede him. But one thing more— Pray what's the matter Sir? I know you Mr. Arthur, for a Gentleman Of fair endowments, a most solid brain, And settled understanding. Why this fellow These two days was scarce sundered from my side, And for the last night I am most assured He slept within my Chamber, 12. miles off, We have never parted since. Keep it there, I pray do a season (Oh my fears) You're well met here, I am told you oft frequent This house as my Wives choice companion, Yet have I S ldome seen you. But that labour isle save you, Soldier take her to your charge. And now where's this sick woman. It's almost time she did, speak how is't wife My Nephew tells me you were took last night With a shrewd sickness, which this Maid confirms. A dangerous sickness, and I fear to death, It's odds you will not escape it. Take that back And let me prove the tother, if perhaps I there can find more comfort. My heart hath bled more for thy cursed relapse Than drops hath issued from thy wounded arm. But wherefore should I preach to one passed hope? Or where the devil himself claims right in all, Seek the least partly or interest? Leave your Bed, Up, make you ready; I must deliver you Into the hand of Justice. Oh deer friend It is in vain to guess at this my grief It's so inundant. Soldier take away that young But old in mischief. And being of these Apostat is rid so well, I'll see my house no more be made a Hell. Away with the . Gentlemen, Welcome, t'is a word I use, From me expect no further compliment: Nor do I name it often at one meeting, Once spoke (to those that understand me best, And know I always purpose as I speak) Hath ever yet sufficed: so jet it you; Nor do I love that common phrase of guests, As we make bold, or we are troublesome, We take you unprovided, and the Like; I know you understanding Gentlemen, And knowing me, cannot persuade your selves With me you shall be troublesome or bold, But still provided for my worthy friends, Amongst whom you are lifted. And Gentlemen, such plainness does best please me, I had notice Of so much by my kinsman, and to show How lovingly I took it, instantly Rose from my chair to meet you at the gate. And be my self your usher; nor shall you find Being set to meat, that i'll excuse your fare, Or say, I am sorry it falls out so poor; And had I known your coming wee'd have had Such things and such, nor blame my Cook, to say This dish or that hath not been sauc'st with care: Words, fitting best a common Hostess mouth, When ther's perhaps some just cause of dislike But not the table of a Gentleman; Nor is it my wives custom; in a word, take what you find, & so In that you please me not: But Gentlemen I hope to be beholden unto you all, Which if I prove, I'll be a grateful debtor. I ever studied plainene e, and truth withal. In few I shall. I know this youth to whom my wife is Aunt Is (as you needs must find him) weak and shallow: Dull, as his name, and what for kindred sake We note not, or at least, are loath to see, Is unto such well-knowing Gentlemen Most grossly visible: If for my sake You will but seem to wink at these his wants, At least at table before us his friends, I shall receive it as a courtesy No soon to be forgotten. Now when you please pray Enter Gentlemen. I'th mean time Prepare your stomachs with a bowl of Sack. My Cellar can afford it; now Mr. Arthur Pray freely speak your thoughts. Wast not about A Manor, the best partly of your estate, Mortgaged to one slips no advantages Which you would have redeemed. And as I hinke, I promised at that time To become bound with you, or if the usurer (A base, yet the best title I can give him) Perhaps should question that security, To have the money ready. Wast not so? Provided, to have the Writings in my custody. Else how should I secure mine own es e. Your money's ready, Make then your word good By speaking it no further, only It seems your Uncle you trusted in so far Hath failed your expectation. Why I entreat you. Strange, but how? Can you discourse the manner? How think you might this come. They that think so dream, For my belief is, no such thing can be, A madness you may call it: Dinner stays; That done, the best partly of the afternoon We'll spend about your business. At meeting, and at parting Gentlemen, I only make use of that general word, So frequent at all feasts, and that but once; you're welcome. You are so, all of you, and I entreat you Take notice of that special business, Betwixt this Gentleman my friend, and I. About the Mortgage, to which writings drawn, Your hands are witness. Pray take no notice of his ignorance, You know what I foretold you. I pray, no compliment, It is a thing I do not use my self, Nor do I love it in others. Sir, you Hyperbolize; And I cooed chide you for't, but whilst you connive At this my Kinsman, I shall wink at you; 'Twil prove and equal match. Your name proclaims To be such as it speaks, you, Generous. Still in that strain! Gentlemen, the gr atest partly of this day you see is spent In reading deeds, conveyances, and bonds, With sealing and subscribing; will you now Take partly of a bade Supper. The first I accept, The Last I entertain not, farewell Gentlemen. Cozen I wish you would consort your self, With such men ever, and make them your President, For a more Gentile carriage. Why she's not deaf I hope, I am sure since Dinn r She had her hearing perfect. Sirrah you trifle, give me the Key oth' Stable, I will go see my Gelding; in the mean time Go seek her out, say she shall find me there. Would! how comes that to pass? Which of your fellows did she take along to wait on her? None! hath she used it often? And still alone? To ride out often and alone, what say she When she takes horse, and at her back return? As oft as thou deniest her, so oft claim That taster from me, it shall be roundly paid. What then? But vain are wishes, take those bottles And see them filled where I command you sir. It shall not needs. What Countryman. Perhaps thou lovest this wandering life To be and idle loitering beggar, than To eat of thine own labour. Friend thou speakest well. How camest thou in this pickle? Well spoke Soldier. I Like thy resolution Fellow, you then Have given the Mill quite over. I dare, but I am loath, my reasons these. For many oneths, scarce any one hath lain there But have been strangely frighted in his sleep, Or from his warm bed drawn into the floor, Or clawd and scratched, as thou seest this poor man, So much, that it stood long untenanted, Till he late undertook it, now thine eyes Witness how he hath sped. It's a match: deliver them. I confess thou hast done a Wonder in fetching me so good Wine, but my good Servant Robert, go not about to put a Miracle upon me, I will rather believe that Laneaster affords this Wine, which I thought impossible till I tasted it, then that thou coo'dst in one night fetch it from London. the art a Knave to wish me to believe this, forgi'me, I would have sworn if thou hadst stayed but time answerable for the journey (to his that flew to Paris and back to London in a day) it had been the same Wine, but it can never fallen within the compass of a Christians belief, that thou couldst ride above three hundred miles in 8. hours: You were no longer out, and upon one Horse too, and in the Night too! Would, would, would, if I cooed believe there were such a thing as Witchcraft, I should think this slave were bewitched now with and opinion. Bless me! this paper belongs to me indeed, it's and ac quittance, and all I have to show for the payment of one hun dreaded pound, I took great care for't, and cooed not imagine where or how I might lose it, but why may not this be a trick? this Knave may find it when I lost it, and conceal it till now to come over me withal. I will not trouble my thoughts with it further at this time, well Robin look to your business, and have a care of my Gelding. Then I shall find him where I left him last. Give me the Key o'th Stable. You're asawcy Groom to receive horses Into my Stable, and not ask me leave. Is't for my profit to buy Hay and Oats For every strangers jades? Sirrah, whose jade is that tied to the Rack? Yes, that old Mare. Sirrah, I fear some stolen jade of your own That you would have me keep. The devil she did! The more I strive to unwind My self from this Meander, I the more Therein am intricated; prithee woman Art thou a Witch? May I presum't? Knowest thou what a Witch is? How hath he wronged you? Be of a milder temper I entreat, Relate what and when done? In company there's comfort, prithee wife Lend me thy hand, and let me feel thy pulse, Perhaps some Fever, by their beating I May guess at thy disease. I must not be denied, Sick folks are peevish, and must be overruled, and so shall you. If not thy hand Wife, show me but thy wrist, And see how this will match it, here's a Testate That cannot be outfaced. I pitied then your misery, and now Have nothing left but to bewail mine own In this unhappy woman. I utterly discard him in her blood And all the good that I intended him I will confer upon this virtuous Gentleman. No sir, my Prayers for her souls recovery. Shall not be wanting to her, but mine eyes Must never see her more. Tell me the Earth Shall leave it's seat, and mount to kiss the Moon; Or that the Moon enamoured of the Earth, Shall leave her sphere, to stoop to us thus low. What? what's this in my hand, that at and instant Can from a four leg'd Creature, make a thing So Like a wife?