CAPTAIN

Hah? Why you make me mad. Pox on't, and now am I tied ee'n as the Devil would have't. 'Sfoot, so would I my self man, give me my Endue, you know I would sworn all heaven over and over: Why go too then. Why 'tis abominable I grant you now I see't: Then t'ad been something: And I to play the Artificer and marry: to have my wife dance at home, and my Ship at Sea, and both take in salt water together: o Lieutenant thou'rt hap pie, thou keepest a Wench. How? is there any such fortunate man brea thing? and I so miserable to live honest? I envy thee Lieutenant, I envy thee, that thou art such a happy Knave, heres my hand among you, share it equally, I'll to sea with you. Lets hear from you, there will be news shortly. What lustful passion came aboard of me, that I should marry, was I drunk? yet that cannot altoge there hold, for it was four a clock 'ith morning, had it been five, I would would sworn it: that a man is in danger every minute to be cast away, without he have and ex extraordinary Pilot that can perform more then a man can do: and to say truth too, when 'ime abroad what can I do at home? no man living can reach so far: & what a horrible thing would be to have horns brought me at Sea, to look as if the Devil were 'ith ship: and all the great Tempests would be thought of my Raising, to be the general curse of all Mere chants: and yet they likely are as deep in as my self, and thats a comfort: Oh that a Captain should live to be married! nay, I that have been such a Gallant salt-theefe, should yet live to be married: What a fortu nate Elder Brother is he, whose father being a Ramish Ploughman, himself a perfumed Gentleman, spen ding the labouring reek from his Father's: Nostrils in Tobacco: the sweat of his Father's body in monthly Phisickc for his pretty Queasy Harlot: he sows a pace 'ith Country: the Taylor overtakes him i'th City, so that often times before the Corn comes to Earning, 'tis up to the ears in high Collars, and so at every harvest the Reapers take pains for the Mercers, would! why this is stirring happiness indeed, would my father had held a blow so, and fed upon squeezed Curds and Onions, that I might have bathed insensualitie: but he was too ruttish himself to let me thrive under him, cansumde me before he God me, & that makes me so wretched, now to be shackled with a wife, & not greatly rich nei there. 'Slife call me husband again, & isle play the Cap taine and beat you. Go make a Widower, hang thy self, How comes it that you are so opposite To love and kindness? I deserve more Respect, But that you please to be forgetful of it. Then to that end I doo't. What, my Lord: I must make much of him, heel one day write me Cuckold: 'tis good to make much of such a man, ee'n to my face, he plies it hard I thank him:— what, my worthy Lord! My deer esteemed Count, I have a life for you: What may it be my Lord? Why, is there any doubt to be had of that my Lord? That's full of certainty my Lord, but who be his Attendants? Is it to be believed? I promise you my Lord then I begin to fear him my self, that fellow will undo him: I durst undertake to corrupt him with twelve pence over and above, and thats a small matter: ha a whorish Conscience, he's and inseparable Knave, and I could near speak well of that fellow. Though it be in mine own house, I desire I may follow your Lordship. So, his way is in, he knows it, We must not be uncourteous to a Lord, Warn him our house t'were vild: his presence is and honour, if he lie with our wives, 'tis for our credit, we shall be the better trusted, 'tis a sign we shall live ith world: Oh Tempests and Whirlwinds (who but that man whom the forefinger cannot daunt, that makes his shame his living:) Who but that man I say, could en dure to be thoroughly married? Nothing but a divorce can relieve me: any way to be rid of her would rid my torment: if all means fail I'll kill, or poison her, and purge my fault at sea: but first I'll make gentle Try of a Divorce: But how shall I accuse her subtle honesty? I'll attach this Lords coming to her, take hold of that: ask counsel: and now I remember, I have acquaintance with and old crafty Client, who by the puzzle of suits & shifting of Courts, has more tricks & starting holes, then the dizzy pates of fifteen Attorneys: one that has been muzzled in Law Like a Bear, and led by the Ring of his spectacles from office to office: him I'll seek out with haste, all paths I'll tread, All death's I'll die ere I die married. The Divorce shall rest then, and the five hun dreaded crowns shall stand in full force and virtue. A way sail I, fare thee well. But ah! Remember a Scrivener Away. Hence, we're at a price for thee, at a price, wants but the telling, and the sealing, then — Credit? pox of credit, that makes me owe so much: it had bine better for me by a thousand Royals I had lost my credit, seven year ago, it's undone me, that's it that makes me fly: what need I to sea else, in the Spring time, when Woods have leaves, to look upon bald Oak. Happier that man say I, whom no man trusts, It makes him valiant, dares outface the prisons, Upon whose carcase no Gownde Raven jets, O he that has no credit owes no debts. 'Tis time I were rid on't. No, isle fell thee then to the Smock: see here comes my honourable Chapman. Fine she policy? she makes my back her Bol ster, but before my face, she not endures him, Tricks. O for Modesties cause awhile my Lord: she must restrain her self, she's not yours yet: Beside, it wear not wisdom to appear, Easy before my sighed, fah, wherefore serves modesty but to pleasure a Lady now and then, and help her from sus specked, that's the best use 'tis put too. No doubt yowl be soon friends my Lord. And make what hast I can to my ship, I durst uva her you'll be under sail before me. I, a very pleasant voyage as can be: I see the hour is Ripe, here comes the Prisons Bawd the bond-maker, one that binds heirs before they are begotten. A Farmers son, is't true? I give you your salute sir. I hear a good report of you sir—y'aue money. And excellent virtue. Is your venture three hundred? you're very pre tiously welcome: here's a voyage toward will make us all.— Fear him not my Lord, he's a Gull', he ven tures with me, some filthy Farmers son, the father's a Jew, and the son a Gentleman:pha.— Why, that in our Country makes him a Gen tleman. By my troth my Lord and so she is.— 3.4.5.6.7. Well said Scrivener, hast put'em all in: you shall hear now my L. You have bought a Jewel i'faith, my L, nine and thirty, forty. You have bought as lovely a penny-woorth my Lord, as ere you bought in your life. I could not afford her so y faith, but that I am-going to sea and have needs of money. Ninteene—occupation? Pox out, out with oc cupation, a Captain is of no occupation, man. Use? put out use too for shame. Till we are all gone, I prithee. Former sails, nine & twenty thirty, by my troth my Lord, this is the first time that ever I sold her. Let it run on then, nine and forty, fifty, — For Reentryes, I will not swear for her. Faces: I know what you mean by faces: Scrivener, there's a great figure in faces. Very good sir, I'll be ready for you presently, four hundred and twenty. 1.2.3.4.5.— Right i'faith, my Lord fully five hundred, Amply contented. 'Sfoot dost take me to be a penman? I protest I could never write more then A, B, C, those three letters in my life. I could never get further. It goes on hardly, and comes off easily. He? he shall, prethe come and set thy hand for witness Rogue, thou shall venture with me? What a fair fist the pretty whorsone writes, as if he had had manners and bringing up, a farmers Son: his Father dam's himself to fell musty Corn, while he ventures the Money, 'twill prosper well at Sea no doubt he shall never see't again As my deed, what else sir? So my Lord, you have her, clip her, enjoy her, she's your own, and let me be proud to tell you now my Lord, she's as good a soul if a man had a mind to live honest, and keep a wench, the Kindest, sweetest, comfortablest Rogue.— The end of me is lousy. Pox of his dissemblance: I will to S n. In health. You might count me and ass then i'faith. Prethe would done, I am ashamed of nothing. This Lord sticks in my stomach. What and they did, I fell none but mine own: as for the Duke, he's abroad by this time, and for Fidem lio he's in labour. More's the pity. I do beseech your Ladyship not so much for par done, as to bestow a few of those Crowns upon a poor unfeathered Rover that will as truly pray for you, and wish you hanged, as any man breathing. Well 'ime yet glad, i'ue liberty and these: The Land has plagued me, and isle plague the seas. The more fool you, could you Like none but me? Could none but I supply you? I am sure you were sued to by far worthier men, Deeper in wealth and Gentry. What couldst thou see in me, to make thee dote so on me, If I know, I am a Villain: what a torments this? why didst thou marry me? you think as most of your insatiate Widow's, that Captains can do wonders, when alas the name do's often prove the better man. How now sir? O thats in order: a kiss is the Gammoth to pricksong. 'Sfoot he undoes me, I am a Rogue & a Beggar, The Egyptian plague creeps over me already, I begin to be lousy. May it be possible my Lord, and yet so little rumord? This fine work: a very brave end, hum— What call you Travelling? Slave and fool: —would, who? o— I do beseech your good Lordship consider the state of a poor downcast Captain. Read aloft Scrivener. 1.2.— Is this the Scrivener and the Farmers Son, Fire on his Lordship he told me they Travailed.