QUARLOUS

No, and I had, all the Lime-hounds o'the City should have drawn after you, by the sent rather, M r John Little-wit ! God save you, Sir. 'Twas a hight night with some of us, last night, John : shall we pluck a hair o'the same Wolf, to day, Proctor John ? Not I, John: nothing that I either discourse or do, at those times I forfeit all to forgetfulness. By this head, I'll beware how I keep you company, John, when I drunk, and you have this dangerous memory! that's certain. Why? we were all a little stained last night, sprinkled with a cup or two, and I agreed with Proctor John here, to come and do somewhat with Win (I know not what 'twas) to day; and he puts me in mind on't, now; he says he was coming to fetch me: before Truth, if you have that fearful quality, John, to remember, when you are sober, John, what you promise drunk, John ; I shall take heed of you, John. For this once, I am content to wink at you, where's your wife? come hither Win. (He kisses her. No, wee'll kiss again and fallen in. She may call you and Apple- John, if you use this. Hoy-day! how respective you are become o'the sud den! I fear this family will turn you reformed too, pray you come about again. Because she is in possibility to be your daugh ter in law, and may ask you blessing hereafter, when she courts it to Totnam to eat cream. Well, I will forbear, Sir, but faith, would thou wouldst leave thy exercise of widdow-hunting once! this drawing after and old reverend Smock by the splaifoot: There cannot be and ancient Tripe or Trillibub i'the Town, but thou art straight nosing it, and it's a fine occupation thou'lt confine thy self to, when thou ha'st God one; scrubbing a piece of Buff, as if thou hadst the perpetuity of Pannyer-alley to stink in; or perhaps, worse, currying a carcase, that thou hast bound thy self to alive. I'll besworne, some of them, (that thou art, or hast been a Suitor to) are so old, as no chased or married pleasure can ever become them: the honest Instrument of procreation, has (forty years since) left to belong to them, thou must visit them, as thou wouldst do a Tomb, with a Torch, or three handfuls of Link, flaming hight, and so thou mayest hap to make them feel thee, and after, come to inherit according to thy inches. A sweet course for a man to waste the brand of life for, to be still aching himself a fortune in and old woman's embers; we shall have thee after thou hast been but a month married to one of them, look Like the quartane ague, and the black Jaundice met in a face, and walk as if thou hadst bor rowed legs of a Spinner, and voice of a Cricket. I would endure to hear fifteen Sermons aweeke for her, and such course, and loud one's, as some of'hem must be; I would een desire of Fate, I might dwell in a drum, and take in my sustenance, with and old broken Tobacco-pipe and a Straw. Dost thou ever think to bring thine ears or stomach, to the patience of a dry grace, as long as thy Tablecloth? and droan'd out by thy son, here, (that might be thy father;) till all the meat o'thy board has forgotten, it was that day i'the Kitchen? Or to brook the noise made, in a question of Predestination, by the good labourers and painful eaters, assem bled together, put to them by the Matron, your Spouse; who more derates with a cup of wine, ever and anon, and a Sentence out of Knox between? or the perpetual spitting, before, and after a sober drawn exhortation of six hours, whose better partly was the hum-ha hum? Or to hear prayers groaned out, over thy iron-chests, as if they were charms to break them? And all this for the hope of two Apostle -spoons, to suffer! and a cup to eat a cawdle in! For that will be thy legacy. She'll have conveyed her state, safe enough from thee, and she be a right widow. How so? What do you call him? I knew diverse of those Ban burians when I was in Oxford. Oh, I know him! a Baker, is he not? I remember that too: out of a scruple he took, that (in spiced conscience) those Cakes he made, were served to Bri dales, May-poles, Morrisses, and such profane feasts and meetings; his Christen-name is Zeale-of-the-land. I, for there was a Blew-starch-woman o'the name, at the same time. A notable hypocritical vermin it is; I know him. One that stands upon his face, more then his faith, at all times; Ever in seditious motion, and reproving for vainglory: of a most lunatic conscience, and spleen, and affects the violence of Singularity in all he do's: (He has undone a Grocer here, in New-gate-market, that broke with him, trusted him with Currans, as errant a Zeal as he, that's by the way: by his profession, he will ever be i'the state of Innocence, though; and childhood; de rides all Antiquity ; defies any other Learning, then Inspiration ; and what discretion soever, years should afford him, it is all preuen ted in his Original ignorance ; have not to do with him: for he is a fellow of a most arrogant, and invincible dulness, I assure you; who is this? BY your leave, Gentlemen, with all my heart to you: and God you good morrow; M r Little-wit, my business is to you. Is this Licence ready? More then buying of gingerbread i'the Cloister, here, (for that we allow him) or a gilded pouch i'the Fair ? What? to pull on his boots, a morning's, or his stoc kings, do's he? Pretty Insect! make much on him. Well, me thinks, this is a fine fellow! In-faith, much about one, it's cross and pile, whither for a new farthing. He will not allow of John's reading at any hand, Oh Numpes! are you here Numpes ? look where I am, Numpes! and Mistress Grace, too! nay, do not look angrily, Numpes: my Sister is here, and all, I do not come without her. Well, this dry-nurse, I say still, is a delicate man. Accuse him? it confesses him one without accusing. What pity it's yonder wench should marry such a Cokes? She seems to be discreet, and as sober as she is handsome. Come, John, this ambitious wit of yours, (I am afraid) will do you no good i'the end. You grow so insolent with it, and overdoing, John: that if you look not to it, and tie it up, it will bring you to some ob scure place in time, and there'twill leave you. Goodfaith, he looks, me thinks and you mark him, Like one that were made to catch flies, with his Sir Cranion -legs. What mean you, Numpes? What a Rogue in apprehension is this! to understand her language no better. All the better, we shall see them come in now. 'Slid! here's Orpheus among the beasts, with his Fiddle, and all! And Ceres selling her daughters picture, in Ginger-worke! Why, they know no better beware then they have, nor better customers then come. And our very being here makes us fit to be demanded, as well as others. Would Cokes would come! there were a true customer for them. S'lud, I'll see him, and roar with him, too, and he roared as loud as Neptune, pray thee go with me. Go to then, come along, we have nothing to do, man, but to see sights, now. Yes, Sir, but you'll pardon us, if we knew not of so much familiarity between us afore. To be so lightly invited to smoke, and roth. I had rather have my Punque, cold, Sir. Body o'the Fair ! what's this? mother o'the Bawds? Nay, she is too fat to be a Fury, sure, some walking Sow of tallow! She'll make excellent gear for the Coach-makers, She drinks this while. here in Smithfield, to anoint wheels and axell trees with. Is she your quagmite, Dan: Knockhum? is this your Bog? Yes, he that would venture for't, I assure him, might sink into her, and be drowned a week, ere any friend he had, could find where he were. 'Twere Like falling into a whole Shire of butter: they had needs be a teem of Dutchmen, should draw him out. Out upon her, how she drips! she's able to give a man the sweating Sickness, with looking on her. Do you think there may be a fine new Cuckingstool i'the Fair, to be purchased? one large enough, I mean. I know there is a pond of capacity, for her. Would, would, would. No, faith: I'll stay the end of her, now: I know she cannot last long; I find by her similes, she wanes a pace. You are a very serious ass, we assure you. What then, Master Jordan? Faith, and to any man that vapours me the lie, I do vapour that. Away, Rogue, Pimp away. Get you gone, Rascal. Look! who comes here! John Little-wit! God's-light, you must gi'hem all fairings, now! They are going a feasting. What Schole-master's that S with them? Oh, I know him by that start! Oh, he has those of his oven! a notable hight Baker 'twas, when he plied the peel: he is leading his flock into the Fair, now. My Roarer is turned Tapster, me thinks. Now were a fine time for thee, Win-wife, to lay aboard thy widow, thou'lt ne ver be Master of a better season, or place; she that will venture her self into the Fair, and a pig-boxe, will admit any assault, be assured of that. I'll warrant thee, then, no wife out o'the widows Hundred: if I had but as much Title to her, as to have breathed once on that straight stomacher of hers, I would now assure my self to carrry her, yet, ere shewent out of Smithfield. Or she should carry me, which were the fitter sighed, I confess. But you are a more dest undertaker, by circumstances, and degrees; come, it's Disease in thee, not Judgement, I should offer at all together. Look, here's the poor fool, again, that was stung by the wasp, ere while. I will make no more orations, shall draw on these tragical con clusions. And I begin now to think, that by a spice of collate rall Justice, Adam Ouerdoo, deserved this beating; for I the said Adam, was one cause (a because) why the purse was lost: and my wives brother's purse too, which they know not of yet. But I shall make very good mirth with it, at supper, (that will be the sport) and put my little friend, M r Humphrey Wasp's choler quite out of count nance. When, sitting at the upper end o'my Table, as I use, & drink king to my brother Cokes, and M rs . Alice Ouerdoo, as I will, my wife, for their good affectio ̄ to old Bradley, I deliver to'hem, it was I, that was cudgeled, and show them the marks. To see what bade events may peep out o'the tail of good purposes! the care I had of that civil young man, I took fancy to this morning, (and have not left it yet) drew me to that exhortation, which drew the company, indeeede, which drew the ut-purse; which drew the money; which drew my brother Cokes his lose; which drew on Wasp's anger; which drew on my beating: a pretty gradation! And they shall have it i'their dish, faith, at night for fruit: I love to be merry at my Ta ble. I had thought once, at one special blow he ga'me, to have re vealed my self? but then (I thank thee fortitude) I remembered that a wise man (and who is ever so great a partly, o'the Commonwealth in himself) for no particular disaster ought to abandon a public good design. The husbandman ought not for one un thankful year, to forsake the plough; The Shepherd ought not, for one scabbed sheep, to throw by his tar-boxe; The Pilot ought not for one leak i'the poop, to quit the Helm; Nor the Alderman ought not for one custerd more, at a meal, to give up his cloak; The Constable ought not to break his staff, and forswear the watch, for one roaring night; Nor the Piper o'the Parish ( Ut par vis componere magnam solebam ) to put up his pipes, for one rainy Sunday. These are certain knocking conclusions; out of which, I am resolved, come what come can, come beating, come imprison meant, come infamy, come banishment, nay, come the rack, come the hurdle, (welcome all) I will not discover who I am, till my endue time; and yet still, all shall be, as I said ever, in Justice name, and the King's, and for the Commonwealth. No matter what. Here's fresher argument, intend that. COme, Mistress Grace, come Sister, here's more fine sights, yet faith. Gods 'lid where's Numps ? Alas! his care will go near to crack him, let's in, and comfort him. How now, Numps ! almost tired i'your Protectorship? ouerparted? ouerparted? No, I swear dost not, Numps : to satisfy you. I think it may be remembered, Numps, that? 'twas since morning sure. No? why then? Are you removing the Fair, Numps? Yes faith, shalt thou, Numps, and thou art worthy on't, for thou sweatest for't. I never saw a young Pimp errant, and his Squire better matched. Before God, I'd give half the Fair, and 'twere mine, for a cutpurse for him, to save his longing. Has he? Stay, Sir, I must have a word with you in private. Do you hear? Do not deny it. You are a cutpurse, Sir, this Gentle man here, and I, saw you, nor do we mean to detect you (though we can sufficiently inform our selves, towards the danger of con cealing you) but you must do us a piece of service. Sir, your beginning shall bring on your ending, for us. We are no Catchpoles nor Constables. That you are to undertake, is this; you saw the old fellow, with the bl cke box, here? That same: I see, you have flown him to a mark all ready. I would ha'you get away that box from him, and bring it us. But look you do it now, sirrah, and keep your word: or— Somewhere i'the Fair, hereabouts. Dispatch it quickly. I would feign see the careful fool deluded! of all Beasts, I love the serious Ass. He that takes pains to be one, and plays the fool, with the greatest diligence that can be. So I have herd. But how came you, Mistis Welborne, to be his Ward? or have relation to him, at first? 'Slid, is there no device of disparagement? or so? talk with some crafty fellow, some picklock o'the Law! Would I had studied a year longer i'the Inns of Court, an't had been but i'your case. Look where John Little-wit comes. No, you were not best, hee'ld tell his mother, the widow. Cry you mercy, is the wind there? must not the wid dow be named? Do you hear Win, Win? Would I were put forth to making for you, then. And fitness, too. Agreed, my word is conceived already. We are pleased. These conditions are very courteous. Well my word is out of the Arcadia, then: Argalus. 'Slight, I would not loose it for the Fair, what'll you do, Ned? Where's Numps? I miss him. Here they continue their game of vapours, which is non sense. Eve ry man to open pose the last man that spoke: when the it con cerned him, or no. Oh there he is! Nay, come Mistress Bride. You must do as I do, now. You must be mad with me, in truth. I have here Justice Ouerdoo for it. Good, i faith o he has lighted on the wro ̄ g pocket. WINW. He has it, before God he is a brave fellow; pity he should be detected. S'lood, we love you. Content, I accord to that willingly. Why, wherefore should you not? What should hinder you? 'Slight, here's a fine ragged Prophet, dropped down 'ithe neck! Nay, stay a little, good Lady, put him to the question. No matter what, a Fortuneteller we have made him. Which is't, which is't. 'Slid, I forgotten that, pray you pardon me. Look, here's our Mercury come: The Licence arrives i'the finest time, too! it's but scraping out Cokes his name, and it's done. Do so, and find out a Priest i'the mean time, I'll bring the License. Led, which way is't? Call you this vapours? this is such beltching of quar rell, as I never herd. Will you mind your business, Sir? Would, would, would. Sir, you'll allow me my christian liberty. I may laugh, I hope. Faith, and I will then, for it does please me excee dingly. Gentlemen, I do not play well at your game of vapours, I am not very good at it, but— In circle, Sir? what would you with me in circle? 'Slid, your circle will prove more costly then your vam pours, then. Sir, no, I lend you none. How Rascal? are you playing with my beard? They draw all, and fight. I'll break circle with you. Well, Sir. You are now discharged: Quarlous to the Cutpurse beware of being spied, hereafter. Keep it for your companions in beastliness, I am none of them, Sir. If I had not already forgiven you a greater trespass, or thought you yet worth my beating, I would instruct your man ners, to whom you made your offers. But go your ways, talk not to me, the hangman is only fit to discourse with you; the hand of Beadle is too merciful a punishment for your Trade of life. I am sorry I employed this fellow; for he thinks me such: Fa cinus quos inquinat, aequat. But, it was for sport. And would I make it serious, the getting of this Licence is nothing to me, without oh there circumstances concur. I do think how impertinently I la bour, if the word be not mine, that the ragged fellow marked: And what advantage I have given Ned Win-wife in this time now, of working her, though it be mine. Hee'll go near to form to her what a debauched Rascal I am, and fright her out of all good con ceipt of me: I should do so by him, I am sure, if I had the oppor tunity. But my hope is in her temper, yet; and it must needs be next to despair, that is grounded on any partly of a woman's dis cretion. I would give by my troth, now, all I could spare (to my clothes, and my sword) to meet my tattered soothsayer again, who was my judge i'the question, to know certainly whose word he has damned or saved. For, till then, I live but under a Reprieve. I must seek him. Who be these? Nay I'll not offend you, Numps. I thought you had sat there to be seen. Cry you mercy, Numps. Do's your leg lie high enough? What, Rabby Busy ! is he come? What's here! a Stoic i'the stocks? the Fool is turned Philosopher. Oh, here's my man! dropped in, I looked for. How! is he a madman! If he be mad, it is in vain to question him. I'll try though, friend: there was a Gentlewoman, showed you two names, some hour since, Argalus and Palemon, to mark in a book, which of them was it you marked? This fellows mad indeed: I am further off, now, then afore. Well, I will make another use of him, is come in my head: I have a nest of beards in my Trunk, one some thing Like his. I have made my self as Like him, as his gown, and cap will give me leave. Quarlous in the habit of the madman is miss taken by M rs Pure-craft. By whose warrant? leave your canting. Gentlewoman, have I found you? (save ye, quit ye, and multiply ye) where's your book? He desires to see the book of Mistress Grace. 'twas a sufficient name I marked, let me see't, be not afraid to shew't me. Mark it again, and again, at your service. Palemon? fare you well, fare you well. Palemon, the word, and Win-wife the man? Away, you are a herd of hypocritical proud Igno rants, rather wild, then mad. Fitter for woods, and the society of beasts then houses, and the congregation of men. You are the see cond partly of the society of Canters, Outlaws to order and Disci pline, and the only privileged Church-robbers of Christendom. Let me alone. Palemon, the word, and Winwife the man? Stand aside, I'll answer you, presently. He consider with him self of it. Why should not I marry this six thousand pound, now I think on't? and a good trade too, that she has beside, would? The tother wench, Winwife, is sure of; there's no expectation for me there! here I may make my self some savour, yet, if she continue mad, there's the question. It is money that I want, why should I not marry the money, when it's offered me? I have a License and all, it is but razing out one name, and putting in another. There's no playing with a man's fortune! I am resolved! I were truly mad, and I would not! well, come your ways, follow me, and you will be mad, He takes her along with him. The Justice calls him. I'll show you a warrant! He takes her along with him. The Justice calls him. By whose warrant? Nothing but your warrant. To be gone, Sir. Your hand and seal, will do me a great deal of good; nothing else in the whole Fair, that I know. Why, it will satisfy me, that's end enough, to look on; and you will not give it me, let me go. Why, this mad men shape, will prove a very fortunate one, I think! can a ragged robe produce these effects? if this be the wise Justice, and he bring me his hand, I shall go near to make some use on't. He is come already! He urges Mistress Purecraft. Her hand for a witness, and all is well. Why should not I have the conscience, to make this a bound of a thousand pound? now, or what I would else? Let us now proceed in madness. I know no fitter mat h, then a Puppet to commit with and Hypocrite! You are i'the right, I am mad, To Quar lous. but from the gown out ward. Where you please, Sir. Sir, why do you not go on with the enormity? are you oppressed with it? I'll help you: hark you Sir, i'your ear, your Innocent young man, you have taken such care of, all this day, is a Cutpurse ; that hath God all your brother Cokes his things, and helped you to your beating, and the stocks; if you have a mind to hang him now, and show him your Magistrates wit, you may but I should think it were better, recovering the goods, and to save your estimation in him. I thank you S r . for the gift of your Ward, M rs . Grace: look you, here is your hand & seal, by the way. M r . Win-wife give you joy, you are Palemon, you are possessed o'the Gentlewoman, but she must pay me valve, here's warrant for it. And honest madman, there's thy gown, and cap again; I thank thee for my wife. Nay, I can be mad, sweet heart, when I please, still; never fear me: To the wid dow. And careful Numps, where's he? I thank him for my licence. It's true, Numps. Look i'your box, Numps, nay, Sir, stand not you fixed here, Like a stake in Finsbury to be shot at, or the whipping post i'the Fair, but get your wife out o'the air, it will make her worse else; and remember you are but Adam, Flesh, and blood! you have your frailty, forget your other name of Ouerdoo, and invite us all to supper. There you and I will compare our discoveries ; and drown the memory of all enormity in your biggest bowl at home. And no enormities. How now, Numps?