FALLACE

Here's a sweet stink indeed: What, shall I ever be thus crossed and plagued? And sick of Husband? Oh my head does ache As it would cleave asunder with these savours, All my Room's altered, and but one poor Walk That I delighted in, and that is made So fulsome with perfumes, that I am feared (My brain does sweat so) I have caught the Plague. I, long since perhaps, But now that Sense is altered: you would have me (Like to a puddle or a standing pool) To have no motion, nor no spirit within me. No, I am Like a pure and sprightly River, That moves for ever, and yet still the same; Or fire that burns much wood, yet still one flame. Why those were growing flowers, And these within my walk are cut and strewed. I, have they so? In your gross judgement: if you make no difference Betwixt the sent of growing flowers and cut ones, You have a sense to taste Lampe-oyle, i'faith. And with such judgement have you changed the chambers, Leaving no room that I can joy to be in In all your house: and now my Walk and all You smoke me from, as if I were a Fox, And long belike to driven me quite away: Well walk you there, and I'll walk where I list. I do: for fear. Ought that is there should Like her. Oh this man How cunningly he can conceal himself, As though he loved? loved? nay honoured and adored? Sweet heart? o, better still: And asking, why? wherefore? and looking strangely, As if he were as white as innocence. Alas, you're simple, you: you cannot change, Look pale at pleasure, and then read with Wonder: No, no, not you: I did but cast and amorous eye e'ennow Upon a pair of Gloves that somewhat liked me, And straight he noted it, and gave command All should be taken away. S'body sirrah, but do not: Bring in no Gloves to spite me: if you do— Why should I take you for him? Oh, now I see the cause of his idle demand was his new suit. Oh you are a gallant in print now Brother. I cannot but Like it to the desert. Now beshrew my heart then. I care not. You jest? When did you see him? Come, when will you pay me again now? Why look you so pale brother? What would you do withal? Indeed Sir, it's a most excellent suit, and you do wear it as extraordinary. Ah, the sweet Grace of a Courtier! Out, out, unworthy to speak where he breathes. He says true. So Sir. Good Lord! how you are perfumed in your terms and all: pray you leave us. I, I, Let thy words ever found in mine ears, and thy Graces disperse contentment through all my senses: Oh, how happy is that Lady above other Ladies, that enjoys so ab solute a Gentleman to her Servant! A Countess give him her hand to kiss! a foolish Countess; he e's a man worthy (if a woman may speak of a men worth) to kiss the lips of and Empress. I brother: he has a Face Like a Cherubin. Not I, in good faith: and he has a Body Like and And gell. Why but even now: did you not meet him? and a Tongue able to ravish any woman i'the earth. Well, I will not altogether despair: I have herd of a Citizens wife has been beloved of a Courtier; and why not I? heigh ho: well, I will into my private Chamber, lock the door to me, and think over all his good parts one after anon there. Why are you so melancholy Brother? Why are you not merry then? there are but two of us in all the world, and if we should not be comforts to one anon there, God help us. If you be melancholy for that Brother, I think I have as much cause to be melancholy, as one; for I'll be sworn I live as little in the fashion, as any woman in London. By the By ble of heaven (beast that I am to say it) I have not one friend i'the world beside my husband. When saw you Master Fasti dius Brisk, Brother? Nay good Brother, be not resolute. O sweet Fastidius Brisk, Oh fine Courtier, thou a he makest me sighs and say, How blessed is that woman that hath a Courtier to her husband? and how miserable a dame she is that hath neither husband nor friend in the Court: Oh sweet Fastidius, Oh fine Courtier. How comely he bows him in his courtesy? how full he hits a woman betwixt the lips when he kisses? how upright he sits at the Table? how daintily he carves? how sweetly he talks, and tells news of this Lord, and of that Lady? how cleanly he wipes his spoon at every spoon full of any whit-meat he eats, and what a near case of pick tooths he carries about him still? O sweet Fastidius, Oh sine Courtier! Heigh Dam, this is excellent, I'll lay my life this is my hus bans dotage, I thought so, nay never play peeke-boe with me, I know you do nothing but study how to anger me sir. To Supper sir? now come up to Supper I beseech you: as though there were no difference between Supper time when folks should be merry, and this time when they would be Melancholy? I would never take upon me to take a wife, if I had no more Judgement to please her. Here's and unthankful spiteful wretch: the good Gen tleman vouchsafed to make him his companion (because my husband put him into a few Rags) and now see how the un rude Rascal backbites him. Oh monster of men! can the Earth bear such and envious Caitiff? Now out upon thee Judas; canst thou not be content to backbite thy friend, but thou must betray him? wilt thou seek the undoing of any man? and of such a man too? and will you Sir get your living by the counsel of Traitors? The house wilfal, the ground will open, and swallow us: I'll not bide here for all the Gold and Silver in Heaven. Help me brother: Gods body and you come here, I'll do my self a mischief. Tut, you shall never have that vantage of me, to say you are undone by me: I'll not bid you stay, I. Brother, sweet brother, here's four Angels, I'll give you towards your Suit; for the love of Jesu, and as ever you came of Christian crea ture, make hast to the water side (you know where Master Fastidius uses to land) and give him warning of my husbands intent; and tell him of that lean Rascals treachery: Oh Jesu, how my flesh rises at him? nay, sweet brother make hast; you may say I would have writ to him, but that the necessity of the time would not suffer it: He cannot choose but take it ex traordinarily from me: and Commend me to him, good bro there: say I sent you. Come, I mar'le what piece of Nightwork you have in hand no , that you call for your cloak and your shoes: what, is this your Pander? Hang him rascal, I cannot abide him for his treachery, with his wild quickset beard there. Whither go you now with him? Nay, and I be not worthy to know whither you go, stay till I take knowledge of your coming back. So Sir, and what say you? Your intents? why, what may your intents be for Gods sake? Aye me, that he were. Oh God Sir, he shall not want for a bribe: pray you, will you commend me to him, and say I'll visit him presently. Good truth so you may; farewell good Sir Lord how a woman may be mistaken in a man? I would have sworn upon all the Testaments in the world he had not loved master Brisk. Bring me my keys there maid: Alas good Gentleman, if all I have in this earthly world will pleasure him, it shall be at his service. Nay, you shall be comforted in me more than this, if you please Sir. I sent you word by my Brother Sir, that my hus band laid to rest you this morning, I know not whither you re ceiu'd it, or no? Oh the Lord! Oh God Master Brisk, yes: and therefore be presently discharged; for if he come with his Actions upon you (Lord de liver you) you are in for one half a score year; he kept a poor man in Ludgate once, twelve year for sixteen shillings. Where's your keeper, for Gods love call him, let him take a bribe, and dispatch you, Lord how my heart trembles! here are no spies? are there? Oh Christ Master Fastidius, if you knew how I took up my husband to day, when he said he would arrest you; and how I railed at him that persuaded him to't, the Scholar there, (who on my conscience loves you now) & what care I took to send you intelligence by my Brother; and how I gave him four So ueraignes for his pains; and now, how I came running out hither without man or boy with me, so soon as I herd on't; you'd say, I were in a Passion indeed: your keeper for Gods sake. Oh Master Brisk (as it's in Euphues) Hard is the choice, when one is compelled either by silence to die with gree e, or by speaking to live with shame. Oh me! Sweet Husband? Oh master Fastidius, what pity is't to see so sweet a man as you are, in so sour a place? Why, and I did find fault Sir?