THORNAY

Why how now Frank ? what melancholy? Why o'my feet: I was at your lodging to inquire for you, And here they told me I should find you. What's the matter, come I guess The cause, which of these Gentlewomen is't? I saw they I do Like they so well, that I could wish— Faith I cannot tell, the worst of they both abed wi'me. To what? Yes once, and I think heartily, for the time, But I ha'drowned her. In Sack, I think as gallants loose their Mistress's, By drinking their health too often. What wouldst have me answer? I can love. What dost make of me? And honesty, if I see cause. Pray take me wi'you. I ha'seene a multitude of fair ones. You speak for they, I may go farther, and fare worse,—. I'll not Consider more on't, lets to they, stay— Which of these two's your mistress? let me know Where to direct my service. Say, which is't you best affect How, both? what then Should I do with em? art thou mad? Hum. You say well, this is fair— If please you Lady Weel walk a side, I have something of more weight I would impart. Ex. Fair one, hear me. You are too Severe, I have no thought so wicked Lady, Deny me not that liberty, which all The Creatures have, to wish their own felicity; Which cannot be without you, he will not Repine to see me happy in your love. And yet if you collect your self, you are not The only Mistress of his heart, your sister he loves As well as you; your pardon fairest, 'tis possible, He may prefer her too, since neither piety nor law allows He can be husband at one time, to both. Then let discretion guide you first to freedom, I love you not with half a heart, but all; Heaven knows with all, at every look you do Transfix me, and can only cure the wound With the same eyes, if they but smile upon it. Your business? It was my father's, and 'tis, upon record, that I was christened Thomas, does that concern you Sir? I crave you mercy, I am your servant. Reads the letter Thank you Sir, God-be-with-ye. It requires none. I cannot promise. I may forget it. She did? Are you acquainted with her? Perhaps she has imparted the contents. Cannot come; that's all— How Sir? You are not sent a Champion to defy me. She has told you belike some story. To what purpose? Reason? I'll show you a reason, walk a little further. Look you Sir, I promised you a reason, why I could Not love Eugenia ; there's my reason, I Do love that Gentlewoman. Do you believe this? were you by When I was married. You are wise. Mad? why you still enjoy discourse. But few in my experience. I have considered better, & do mean To make her satisfaction. Why, did you love her? Tell me no tellings: Either resign her to me again, or— Enough; I am bound to honour thee, command my life, Thou excellent young man. So now 'tis done; I would not Be engaged to kiss you again, for all the estate. Your father left you. I cannot tell, I have not kissed a woman this twelvemonth, and had not done this, but that he had my oath to perform it; well you have the lip labour he sent you, Master Yongrave is well, will see you again shortly—God-be-with-ye. You'll send him such another token; employ your waiting woman, I am no common kiss-carrier. And I be not, I am going Sir, to the place from whence I came Sir? As foolish as ever, he is still in love— You may now commend your self, he is here. Command thy truest servant, nothing wants But how to get her forth, 'twere soon dispatched. How's that? he go? we must prevent that mischief. What do you think? if 'Tis gone again, we must have some trick, To get off without him. What and we should set some on's house afire, Do you think he would stay to quench it? how has he Lived all this while, and has no more diseases? No honest Gout to keep him warm at home, In furs, no charitable Ague, fallen Into his legs to stay him, no Sciatica? He is no Gentleman he escapes so well. If he should with us, is't not possible He may have a fallen, and break a leg, and t'were but his neck, why may not some prentice throw a stone, and put and eye out, that he may go to the Surgeons, or some horse, or cartwheel squeeze his toe, and stay his journey? I do know her. And leave you thus? I'm perfect. Do so. Dance? That made you ask if I could dance. Yes faith Uncle, we are coupled, man and wise. As I will do my soul. Nay, nay, lets all together, and make a merry night on to, Sim. Why how now Thump, are you sneaking away? I am caught, by this good day I am, and know not How now to help my self: a handsome thing! What a blind buzzard is this Jackanapes Cupid? Pox of his bird-bolt, I'll not leave her: Yet I may be too forward; I am punished: Venus, thy pardon, I beseech thee, If thou be'st not hardhearted, as the Poets feign, Speak to thy Boy to fetch his Arrow back, Or strike her with a sharp one, make her squeak, And I'll allow thee a Goddess. Would, it's he. Your Physiognomy is quite discredited. With the eldest, Chrysolina. How's this? I mean the youngest. God-be-with-ye,—I know not how to please you, nor to answer. Engage me in a business? Nay, thrust me oth' lime-twigs, to set you At liberty, when your own wings were glued Toth'bush, and d'ye reward me at his fashion? And I had known it, you should ha'fluttered. Then do so now, and you'll be temperate and hear me. And I am in love. Your humours led me to't, but I shall tell you? Be not you passionate still, but give me thanks, And call me fortunate, she has half consented. Which? why the eldest; which? Chrysolina, Now be you advised, and court the other. I may say three quarters, and not lie. You do not mean to play the fool thus: Pox upon this madness: I woe not fight with you, And I will love that Gentlewoman: I thought I had done you a courtesy. Have you a mind to be the everlasting madcap? And you can couple with both, I can resign; Poor Gentlewoman, shel have the worst on't. There is and Art In wooing, not revealed to every man, Which he that knows, shall do more with a Maid In some minute, than others in a twelvemonth. I, he must take her ith' neck; and court her In the precise minute: yet it may be, she In pity of my sufferings or mistrusting She might not be the first in your election, Inclined the sooner: Now would I have you, Without more ceremony, neglect the wench That I have choosed: D'ye mark? neglect her, And address all your courtship to the youngest, Your meaning will be clearly understood A both sides; so you shall with ease, enlarge Your own heart, fix on one whose arms already Are open to ye, and make my path direct, Without any rub to the other. Is this sense? Obey it then; set on afore with your Mistress A hand gallop, if I overtake you not, let me swing I'th bridle, and set a saddle o'my back, and let all the Fools in the Town ride me. Hum? this entertainment is a little better Than I expected. do you hear, you may return, and tell this story Unto the Lady i'th enchanted Castle: You see my fate, I cannot come; God-be-with-ye. I won't take the pains to see her, and She were a dying. Not to recover her. Yes Lady, Heaven vouchsafe I grow not mad Wi'my good fortune. How Sir? You do not know my temper: I am charmed. Will you hear him? Pox o'my dulness, what meant I to bring Him hither? do not credit any thing, We are old enemies, and he has studied this Device to poison your opinion of me, A mere trick; do not believe a word sweet Lady. That's comfort yet. Be: no, no, it's impossible: shall we walk sweet Lady? Would we were both on's but to skirmish in A saw-pit, I must cut his throat. I have herd so. I, who'l swear for her? Not absolutely. Will you please to walk? Do you hear; this Lady Is weary of your company; you have Not used me Like a Gentleman, indeed Scurvily, 'tis no time nor place to expostulate, But we shall meet again; in the mean time, Return, and tell the Virgin you so magnify, I do not find my self in any humour To see her again; pray her neglect no fortune, For my sake, there be many younger brother's I'th Town, will be content to marry her: You may resolve her what's become of me, There is no wrestling with our fate. You do but jest I hope. Am I awake? Or do I dream, I am made a Coxcomb thus? I am a Rascal, and deserve no mercy, For abusing that poor Gentlewoman, that sent So kindly to me; wo'd the Messenger were here again. 'Tis Master Gerard, how hath he sped? We are both undone, I dare not see him. Exit. By reason? that's a new way to prove it; But I'll hear no reason. Nay, I think I am madder o'th two, And have as much reason, if there be reason Able to make one mad; but let's be wise: Or if it must be that y'ave lost your wits, Let's see and we can recover e'm by drinking; For he that is not sober after drunkenness, Is no man of this world. I talk wildly, that would justify my self to be in my wits, and you that talk reason and sense won't believe y'ave any. So, so, I should believe another in that argument, But not you, for in knowing that, you prove You are no madman. Hold in that; I must confess, you are little Beside your self: I a Philosopher? I studied Titelman sometime i'th College, As others did, and wanting Epictetus Lanthorn, slept always with a watching Candle In my study window, and might very well Dream over learning o'my Desk, or so; What Aristotle might infuse into My sleeps I know not, but waking I never troubled My self to understand him; true I loved His Book De Coelo, for the heavenly Title, And made my Father buy it, for my study Of Divinity, told him I would be a Bishop; That brought me threescore pound a year for sack: I prithee do not talk of learning. Well for this once I will allow it, th'art mad. Nay, nay, I know not that. 'Tis come about again. To prove madness, he makes me mad to hear him; Now I consider better on't, I confess You have some cause to be a little mad, The lose of such a Mistress. Grant it. Whither? There be Knaves among us. Now I fear him. Do you know all this while What you have said, you correct me for speaking Extravagantly, and yet talk wild your self. Will you walk to your Chamber, I'll bear you come pany. I will. I know not what to think on him, The unhappiness was so sudden, and unlooked for, It might disturb his fancy, but I hope The worst is passed, a little rest will settle him. But which way shall I recompense the injury: I have done him? and I had not been ungrateful To Eugenia, we might have both been happy. Would? it's he: Save you most Noble Sir; Ift please you now, I'll go along with you Toth' Gentlewoman. Eugenia, that wrote the Letter to me, I mean her. Pray give me a reason. You both? Why what was that to you? Your wedding day. In very good time. You wear a sword. I'll only try how you can fence, I must not loose her so. It's all one for that, my mind is altered, I'm of another humour now, and will Maintain, I love her better than you dare. Else let me perish on your sword. She was a very Gipsy. You were no sooner parted, but she used me Basely; it's true, I did sufficiently Deserve it, for my breach of vow to her I now alone do honour, and for whom, (Changed into honesty) I will rather die Than live without her. I make no doubt, and while my heart to her Is reconciled, cannot despair of mercy. Shall I? then I'll love thee too. How? not when She is my wife, I hope. If you have cut her up, and left her cold meat, I shall loose my stomach. I hope she ha not sold her maidenhead. By this, and this: Kisses. Through which, if it were possible, I durst Convey my soul, I am for ever thine, Created new to be made worthy of thee, I have been dead too long to thee, and virtue, Committed sin enough, in my neglect Of thee, to plant a fierce, and deep antipathy In every woman's heart against mankind But you are merciful, and imitate The eternal nature. Nay, never blush, but haste and meet the Gentleman. You have no reason to distrust me, Lady, After this circumstance. Have a strong faith, and find it so, Though once I was guilty of some wrong to thee. I'll tell thee now: I was the cause that Gerard did neglect thee, In hope to gain thee for my self; I told him Thou hadst half consented to be mine. Bade him direct his Courtship to Aurelia, And so be sure of one: poor Gentleman Believed, and after lost thy sister too: But if no cure be seasonably applied, Gerard, I fear, will sink beneath his lose. I must accuse my self. I will entreat her pardon, but make haste, I wo'd not willingly be seen. You know how to direct her, but be swift In your return.— Mr. Caperwit? I owe much to your eyes, It was my happiness to see you here. I observed your courtship To fair Aurelia. It did not stink before. Cry you mercy. Sweet language! Wy' your favour, Mr. Caperwit, who are the Principal Maskers? Let me furnish you. I know your lodging, say no more, I'll bring they, This afternoon to practice, we may soon Perfect a dance. Here's my hand. I may give you a hint perhaps for the device too. I have no purpose to put your Muse To such expense. Farewell Phantasma. Excellent, come, let's away, A thousand joys expect us. Exeunt. Thy Master, what's he. His name? Something of a black complexion, with a weezell face. In a doublet of Orange-tawny Satin, richly laced? and blue trunk hose very suitable? A long Italian Cloak came down to his elbows, a Spanish Ruff, and long French stockings. Faith honest friend, I saw none such. But if thou'lt go with me, I may chance help to a sighed of this Pageant.