WITTIPOL

To him, good Engine, raise him up by degrees, Gently, and hold him there too, you can do it. Show your self now, a Mathematical broker. It's done, S r . You shall be your own witness, I'll not labour To tempt you passed your faith. I have not seen her, Since I came home from travel: and they say, She is not altered. Then, before I went, I saw her once; but so, as she hath stuck Still i'my view, no object hath removed her. Very brave. However, Himself be sordide, he is sensual that way. In every dressing, he do's study her. Yes, that's a hired suit, he now has one, To see the Devil is and Ass, to day, in (This Engine gets three or four pound a week by him) He dares not miss a new Play, or a Feast, What rate soever clothes be at; and thinks Himself still new, in other men's old. Faith he do's not hate it. But that's not it. His belly and his palate Would be compounded with for reason. Marry, A wit he has, of that strange credit with him, against all mankind; as it does make him do Just what it list: it ravishes him forth, Whither it please, to any assembly'or place, And would conclude him ruined, should he escape One public meeting, out of the belief Engine hath wone Fitz do trel, to Say on the cloak. He has of his own great, and Catholic strengths, In arguing, and discourse. It takes, I see: has God the cloak upon him. I am that vent'rer, Sir. The same, S r . That I have, S r . It may well be, Sir. All heads ha'not Like growth. No, nor can his mirth, With whom I make them, put me off. Yes, S r . So I may still cloth, and keep warm your wisdom? I know what you will bear, S r . Only, to speak to her. In your very presence. In your hearing: so, You interrupt us not. I ask no more. Lovers? How falls that o'your fancy? I am not eager at forbidden dainties. Who covets unfit things, denies him self. Sir, I must condition To have this Gentleman by, a witness. For that, never vex your self, till the event. How Like yo'him? What think you of this? Could you have believed, Without your sighed, a mind so sordide inward, Should be so specious, and laid forth abroad, To all the show, that ever shop, or beware was? Oh S r ! for hidden treasure, He Hope's to find: and has proposed himself So infinite a Mass, as to recover, He cares not what he parts with, of the present, To his men of Art, who are the raze, may coin him. Promise gold-mountains, and the covetous Are still most prodigal. Oh deer, Sir! He will not off on't. Fear him not. I know him One baseness still accompanies another. See! he is here already, and his wife too. I'll set it, Sir, with yours. Yes, but you'll allow For this time spent, now? I think, I shall not needs it. If you interrupt me, Sir, I shall discloak you. Wittipol begins. The time I have purchased, Lady, is but short; And, therefore, if I employ it thriftily, I hope I stand the nearer to my pardon. I am not here, to tell you, you are fair, Or lovely, or how well you dress you, Lady, I'll save my self that eloquence of your glass, Which can speak these things better to you then I. And it's a knowledge, wherein fools may be As wise as a Court Parliament. Nor come I, With any prejudice, or doubt, that you Should, to the notice of your own worth, need Least revelation. She's a simple woman, Know's not her good: (who ever knows her ill) And at all caracts. That you are the wife, To so much blasted flesh, as scarce hath soul, In stead of salt, to keep it sweet; I think, Will ask no witnesses, to prove. The cold Sheets that you lie in, with the watching candle, That sees, how dull to any thaw of beauty, Pieces, and quarters, half, and whole nights, sometime, The Devil-given Elfine Squire, your husband, Does leave you, quitting here his proper circle, For a much-worse i'the walks of Lincoln's Inn, Under the Elms, t'expect the fiend in vain, there Will confess for you. And what a daughter of darkness, he do's make you, Locked up from all society, or object; Your eye not let to look upon a face, Under a Conjurers (or some mould for one, Hollow, and lean Like his) but, by great means, As I now make; your own too sensible sufferings, Without the extraordinary aids, Of spells, or spirits, may assure you, Lady. For my partly, I protest against all such practice, I work by no false arts, medicines, or charms To be said forward and backward. Sir I shall ease you. Nor have I ends, Lady, He offers to discloak him. Upon you, more then this: to tell you how Love Beauty's good Angel, he that waits upon her At all occasions, and no less then Fortune, Helps adventurous, in me makes that proffer, Which never fair one was so found, to loose; Who could but reach a hand forth to her freedom. On the first sighed, I loved you: since which time, Though I have traveled, I have been in travel More for this second blessing of your eyes Which now In have purchased, then for all aims else. Think of it, Lady, be your mind as active, As is your beauty: view your object well. Examine both my fashion, and my years Things, that are Like, are soon familiar: And Nature joys, still in equality. Let not the sign o'the husband fright you, Lady. But ere your spring be gone, enjoy it. Flowers, Though fair, are oft but of one morning. Think, All beauty does not last until the autumn. You grow old, while I tell you this. And such, As cannot use the present, are not wise. If Love and Fortune will take care of us, Why should our will be wanting? This is all. Wha do you answer, Lady? How! not any word? Nay, then, I taste a trick in't. Worthy Lady, I cannot be so false to mine own thoughts Of your presumed goodness, to conceive This, as your rudeness, which I see's imposed. Yet, since your cautelous Jailer, here stands by you, And yo'are denied the liberty of the house, Let me take warrant, Lady, from your silence, (Which ever is interpreted consent) To make your answer for you: which shall be To as good purpose, as I can imagine, And what I think you'd speak. He sets M r . Manly, his friend in her place. I shall resume, S r . One interruption more, Sir, and you go Into your hose and doublet, nothing saves you. And therefore harken. This is for your wife. Stand for me, good friend. Troth, Sir, 'tis more then true, that you have uttered And speaks for her. Of my unequal, and so sordide match here, With all the circumstances of my bondage. I have a husband, and a two-legged one, But such a moon-ling, as no wit of man Or roses can redeem from being and Ass. H'is grown too much, the story of men's mouths, To escape his lading: should I make't my study, And lay all ways, yea, call mankind to help, To take his burden off, why, this one act Of his, to let his wife out to be courted, And, at a price, proclaims his asinine nature So loud, as I am weary of my title to him. But Sir, you seem a Gentleman of virtue, No less then blood; and one that every way Looks as he were of too good quality, To entrap a credulous woman, or betray her: Since you have paid thus deer, Sir, for a visit, And made such venture, on your wit, and charge Merely to see me, or at most to speak to me, I were too stupid; or (what's worse) ingrate Not to return your venture. Think, but how, I may with safety do it; I shall trust My love and honour to you, and presume You'll ever husband both, against this husband; Who, if we chance to change his liberal ears, To other ensigns, and with labour make A new beast of him, as he shall deserve, Cannot complain, he is unkindly deals with. This day he is to go to a new play, Sir. From whence no fear, no, nor authority, Scarcely the Kings command, Sir, will restrain him, Now you have fitted him with a Stage -garment, For the mere names sake, were there nothing else: And many more such journeys, he will make. Whieh, if they now, or, any time hereafter, Offer us opportunity, you hear, Sir, Who'll be as glad, and forward to embrace, He shifts to his own place a gain Meet, and enjoy it cheerfully as you. I humbly thank you, Lady. Will you be lightened? And but I am, By the sad contract, thus to take my leave of you At this so envious distance, I had taught Our lips ere this, to seal the happy mixture Made of our souls. But we must both, now, yield To the necessity. Do not think yet, Lady, But I can kiss, and touch, and laugh, and whisper, And do those crowning courtships too, for which Day, and the public have allowed no name But, now, my bargain binds me. 'Twere rude injury, T'importune more, or urge a noble nature, To what of it's own bounty it is prove to: Else, I should speak—But, Lady, I love so well, As I will hope, you'll do so to. I have done, Sir. Sir, And I may win, too. Why, much good do't you S r ; it may fallen out, That you have bought it deer, though I have not sold it. Where was your soul, friend? You pretend so. Let me not live, if I am not in love More with her wit, for this direction, now, Then with her form, though I have praised that prettily, Since I saw her, and you, to day. Read those. He gives him a paper, wherein is the copy of a Song. They'll go unto the air you love so well. Try them unto the note, may be the music Will call her sooner; light, she's here! Sing quickly. Away, fallen back, she comes. M rs ! The'are fair colours, Lady, and natural! I did receive Some commands from you, lately, gentle Lady, This Scene is acted at two windo's, as out of two contiguous buildings, But so perplexed, and wrapped in the delivery, As I may fear to-have misinterpreted: But must make suit still, to be near your grace. None, but my self. It falls out, Lady, to be a deer friends lodging. Wherein there's some conspiracy of fortune With your poor servants blessed affections. He, Lady, but he's gone, Upon my entreaty of him, seeing you Approach the window. Neither needs you doubt him, If he were here. He is too much a gentleman. No, my tuneful Mistress? Then, surely, Love hath none; nor Beauty any; Nor Nature -violenced, in both these: With all whose gentle tongues you speak, at once. I thought I had enough removed, already, That scruple from your breast, and left you all reason; When, through my morning's perspective I showed you A man so above excuse, as he is the cause, Why any thing is to be done upon him: And nothing called and injury, misplaced. I'rather, now had hope, to show you how Love By his accesses, grows more natural: And, what was done, this morning, with such force Was but devised to serve the present, then. That since Love hath the honour to approach These sister-swelling breasts; and touch this soft, He grows more fami liar in his Courtship. And rosy hand; he hath the skill to draw Their Nectar forth, with kissing; and could make More wanton salts, from this brave promontory, Down to this valley, then the nimble Roe ; plays with her paps, kiss seth her hands, &c. Could play the hopping Sparrow, about these nets; And sporting Squirrel in these crisped groves; Bury himself in every Silkworms kell, Is here raveled; run into the snare, Which every hair is, cast into a curl, To catch a Cupid flying: Both himself In milk, and roses, here, and dry him, there; Warm his cold hands, to play with this smooth, owned, And well turned chin, as with the Billyard ball; Roll on these lips, the banks of love, and there At once both plant, and gather kisses. Lady, Shall I, with what I have made to day here, call All sense to wonder, and all faith to sign The mysteries revealed in your form? And will Love pardon me the blasphemy I uttered, when I said, a glass could speak This beauty, or that fools had power to judge it? Do but look, on her eyes! They do light— All that Love's world compriseth! Do but look on her hair! it is bright, As Love's star, when it riseth! Do but mark, her before head's smoother, Then words that sooth her! And from her arched brows, such a grace Sheds it self through the face; As alone, there triumphs to the life, All the gain, all the good, of the elements strife! Have you seen but a bright Lily grow, Before rude hands have touched it? Have you marked but the fallen of the Snow, Before the soil hath smuch'd it? Have you felt the wool o'the Beaver? Or Swans down, ever? Or, have smelled of the bud o'the Bryer? Or the Nard in the fire? Or, have tasted the bag o'the Be? Oh, so white! Oh, so soft! Oh, so sweet is she! IS she so, Sir? and, I will keep her so. Her hus band ap pears at her back. If I know how, or can: that wit of man Will doe't, I'll go no farther. At this windo' She shall no more be buzzed at. Take your leave on't. If you be sweet meats, wedlock, or sweet flesh, All's one: I do not love this hum about you. A flyblown wife is not so proper, In: He speaks out of his wives win dow. For you, S r , look to hear from me. So, I do, Sir. That have I, Sir. What am I, Sir? Go, you are and Ass. I think you are. Away, you brokers block, you property. Oh! I could shoot mine eyes at him, for that, now; He strikes his wife. Or leave my teeth in'him, were they cuckolds bane, Enough to kill him. What prodigious, Blind, and most wicked change of fortune's this? I have no air of patience: all my veins Swell, and my sinews start at iniquity of it. I shall break, break. A merry one, Sir. The Duke of Drowned-land, and his Duchess ? With purpose, yet, to put him out I hope To his best use? For that small partly, That I am trusted with, put off your care: I would not loose to do it, for the mirth, Will follow of it; and well, I have a fancy. You will report it so. Where must I have my dressing? You shall pardon me. I will share, Sir, In your sports, only: nothing i'your purchase. But you must furnish me with compliments, To the manner of Spain ; my coach, my guarda duenn'as ; I know her, Sir, And her Gentleman huisher. Yes, Sir. What is her end, in this? S r , I have my'instructions. Is it not high time to be making ready? Pray you, say to her Ladyship, It is the manner of Spain, to embrace only, Never to kiss. She will excuse the custom! Yes, Madame. In have had The favour, through a world of fair report oh know your virtues, Madame ; and in that Name, have desired the happiness of presenting My service to your Ladyship ! Both are endue, Madame, To your great undertakings. And they are noble ones, That make a multitude beholden, Madame The commonwealth of Ladies, must acknowledge from you. Yo'are right in that, Madame, Of which raze, I encountered some but lately. ho (it seems) have studied reasons to discredit Your business. Nay, the parties Wi'not be worth your pause— Most ruinous things, Madame, That have put off all hope of being recovered To a degree of handsomeness. Some Madame, I remember. They say, that painting quite destroys the face— There are new ones, too. Corrupts the breath; hath left so little sweetness In kissing, as it's now used, but for fashion: And shortly will be taken for a punishment. Decays the foreteeth, that should guard the tongue; And suffers that run riot everlasting! And (which is worse) some Ladies when they meet Manly be begins to know him. Cannot be merry, and laugh, but they do spit In one another's faces! So I urged Madame, that the new complexion, Now to come forth, in name o'your Ladyship's fucus, Had no ingredient — So do they, in Spain. Your Alum Scagliola, or Pol-dipedra ; And Zuccarino; Turpentine of Abezzo. Washed in nine waters: Soda di leuante, Or your Fern ashes; Benjamin di gotta ; Grasso di serpe; Porcelletto marino; Oils of Lentisco; Zucche Mugia ; make The admirable Varnish for the face, Gives the right luster; but two drops rubbed on With h a piece of scarlet, makes a Lady of sixty Look at sixteen. But, above all, the water Of the white Hen, of the Lady Estifanias ! Your Ladyships servant. Of Goldsmiths work, madame And set with diamonds: and their Spanish pumps Of perfumed leather. At the first, it is, madame. Never. But you have men at hand, still, To help you, if you fallen? I'll tell you, madame, I saw i'the Court of Spain once, A Lady fallen i'the Kings sighed, along. And there she lay, flat spread, as and Umbrella, Her hoop here cracked; no man durst reach a hand To help her, till the Guarda-duenn'as came, Who is the person onel'allow'd to touch A Lady there: and he but by this finger. And Escudero, or so madame, that waits Upon them in another Coach, at distance, And when they walk, or dance, holds by a handkercher, Never presumest to touch them. I received, Lady, A token from you, which I would not be Rude to refuse, being your first remembrance. But since you come, to know me, nearer, Lady, I'll beg the honour, you will wear it for me, It must be so. Would you ha'me merce nary? We'll recompense it anon, in somewhat else, no, indeed, Madame ; I, Therein prefer the fashion of England far, Of your young delicate Page, or discreet Usher, If he be made and broken to his place, once. And they are fitter Managers too, Sir, but I would have them called Our Escudero's. Say, I should send To your Ladyship, who (I presume) has gathered All the deer secrets, to know how to make Pastillos of the Duchess of Braganza, Coquettas, Almoiauana's, Mantecada's, Alcoreas, Mustaccioli ; or say it were The Peladore of Isabella, or balls Against the itch, or aquam nanfa, or oil Of lessamine for gloves, of the Marquess Muja ; Or for the head, and hair: why, these are offices And you would have your wife such. I take you, Sir. H'has reason Ladies. I'll not give this rush For any Lady, that cannot be honest Within a thread. As can be; Coach it to Pimlico ; dance the Saraband ; Hear, and talk bawdy; laugh as loud, as a alarm; Squeak, spring, do any thing. She must be guided, Madame By the clothes he wears, and company he is in; Whom to salute, how far— What's his name? What can he do? Fit for a Devil. De-uile, They begin their Cate chisme. what property is there most required In your conceit, now, in the Escudero ? I think, a barren head, Sir, Mountainlike, To be exposed to the cruelty of weathers— He then had had no barren head. He strikes him. You daw him too much, in troth, Sir. What do you take M . Deuile, the height of your employment, In the true perfect Escudero ? Yes, that's and act of elegance, and importance. But what above? M r . Deuile, put case, one of my Ladies, here, Had a fine brach: and would employ you forth To treat about a convenient match for her. What would you observe? And nothing else? I, and the Sign. Then when the Puppies came, what would you do? This's well. What more? And which silentest? This's well, madame ! And while she were with puppy? Very good! And be industrious to kill her fleas? He will make a pretty proficient. Do, and I'll withdraw, Madame, The Devil prays again. With this fair Lady : read to her, the while. Lady, we'll follow. You are not jealous Sir? Virtue shall never ask my succours twice; Most friend, most man; your Counsels are commands: Lady, I can love goodness in you, more Then I did Beauty ; and do here entitle Your virtue, to the power, upon a life You shall engage in any fruitful service, Even to forfeit. Sir, I must know it, though. Nor you'll not quarrel me? You have your friends, Sir, He Hope's to be the man. About you here, for choice. Why, Sir, If for the trust, you'll let me have the honour To name you one. This Gentleman: Who might he be? Alas Sir, he, a toy: This Gentleman A friend to him? no more then I am Sir! Yes, and what else, for him, you will engage me. How now, what play have we here. The Coxcomb, and the Coverlet. What, S r ? Hath this, then, credit with you? The Justice sure will prove to be the merrier! If I had All innocence of man to be endangered, And he could save, or ruin it: I'd not breath A syllable in request, to such a fellow, I'ld rather fallen. Then they say, it's dangerous To all the fallen, yet well disposed Mad-dames, That are industrious, and desire to earn Their living with their sweat! For any distemper Of heat, and motion, may displace the colours; And if the paint once run about their faces, Twenty to one, they will appear so ill-favoured, Their servants run away, too, and leave the pleasure Imperfect, and the reckoning also unpayed. Is this my Lord ? How now? Friend? offended, That I have found your haunt here? It is To show you what they are, you so pursue. Stay, and profit then. Please you fit with us, Lady. He presents Mistress Fitz-dot trel. They are infinite, Madame. But ordinary, Madame. No, the true rarities, are the Aluagada, And Argenta a of Queen Isabella ! Madame, you take your Hen, Plume it, and skin it, cleanse it o'the inward: Then chop it, bones and all: add to four ounces Of Carrnuacins, Pipitas, Soap of Cyprus, Make the decoction, strain it. Then distil it, And keep it in your galley-pot well, gliddered: Three drops preserves from wrinkles, warts, spots, moles, Blemish, or Sun-burnings, and keeps the skin In decimo sexto, ever bright, and smooth, As any lookingglass; and indeed, is called The Virgins milk for the face, Oglio real ; A Ceruse, neither cold or heat, will hurt; And mixed with oil of myrrh, and the read Gillyflower Called Cataputia ; and flowers of Rouistico ; Makes the best muta, or die of the whole world. None but Grandee's, Madame, OF the clasped train, which may be worn at length, too, Or thus, upon my arm. If they be dressed in punto, Madame. Well, Sir! But what have you done i'your Dependence, since? His name is Eustace Manly. of Middlesex, Esquire. Named a gentleman, That I'll be answerable for, to you, Sir. Had I named you, it might have been suspected: This way, it's safe. What? I hear S r . no confession of it. No? that were pity! What right do you ask, Sir? Here he is will do't you? I Sir, no more Lady now, Not Spaniard ! A Cuckold ? No Sir, But you were late in possibility, I'll tell you so much. Wee'll see her Sir, at home, and leave you here, To be made Duke of Shoreditch with a project. Cry but another note, Sir, I'll mar the tune, of your pipe! Neither: that shall be kept for your wives good, Who will know, better how to use it. Sir, be you quiet, Or I shall gag you, ere I go, consult Your Master of dependences; how to make this A second business, you have time Sir. Alas! I understand not Those things Sir. I am a woman, and most loath, To embark my self— As any other affair of flesh, what ever. They continued ̄ monly use their slaves, Madame.