HORNET

Widow, be ruled by me, I know the world, And I have studied it these fifty years: There's no man to be trusted. No young man, widow, That talks, and says he loves you, writes you verses, And swears he shall go hang himself, unless You pity him; take me and old man. Seasoned with care and thrift, not led away By vicious conversation, nor corrupted With pride and surfeit, one that knows the use Of money; Do ye mark the use? You may, If you be so disposed, but it's as commendable To give it in your will, to built and Hospital, And so our charity comes altogether: I would not have your state be eaten up By Caterpillars, but preserved and made Greater, by marrying some discreet old man. You happily Interpret me. She inclines. It's your good nature, I am plain, and have No tricks, I'll tell you all my fault, I am Addicted very much to gather wealth; I have no children to devour my state, Nor kindred, only a Niece left to my trust, One that is never Like to marry. She never thrived since she came to me. Melancholy Will kill her, and yet I pursue all ways That promise her delight: I spare no cost Of Physic, what her Doctor says, is done. What's he? Sure I have seen him. O, he's a beggar, or must be very shortly. Not yet, not yet; but he'll want money, widow. Hang breeding, it's unlucky, They never keep their state that have too much on't, counsel your daughter, Mistress Bellamy, To throw him off betime. When we are married, I'll provide a match for her. It will become me. Your table Is a devourer, and they shut up doors First, that keep open house and entertainments: This Lord is feasted, and that young Ladies Sweet tooth must have a banquet; tother old Madam with never a tooth must have some marchpane Coral to rub her gums withal; these are Ridiculous expenses. This room has too rich furniture, and worse Hangings would serve the turn; if I may be Worthy to counsel, costly pictures are Superfluous, though of this, or tother Master's Doing: Hang Michael Angelo and his oils. If they be given, you're the more excused To let they show; but have a care you let not Appear, either in Arras, or in picture, The story of the Prodigal, it'll fright Young Gentlemen that come to visit you From spending o'their portions, whose riot May enrich you with their forfeited estates; I have a thousand precepts more. It's in my chest, And multiplied in every bag. A fable to fright fools, or children; but I cannot stay, my Scrivener does expect me, I'll visit you another time, sweet widow, And give you more instructions. Live and be undone then: You'll tell me another tale hereafter widow. Exit. You tell me wonders, Sir. You're virtuous; For that you were commended, Sir, to me: You have a conscience, and won't take Fees for a compliment, nor make poor your friends, To enrich Apothecaries. It's strange, methinks, nothing but extremities: Good Master Doctors could you not would pared Her tother leaden humour. I complained before Of quietness, now she's all noise and madness, By your description. She is mad. I know the Devil? Why does she talk of dying? she's stark mad. Could you not put into the next receipt Something to make her sleep well? Opium In a good quantity, they say, will do't. She hears. Whom? what fellow? Would, with me? I am sent for by a Pursuivant to his Highness; Alas, I am undone, I never saw him, How should he know me, a poor wretch? That's my fear, there be Too many knaves i'th' world, and a man cannot Grow rich; but one State-Surgeon or other Must practice on his purse; before this Judge A vein is opened in the other Court, So many ounces he must bleed again: Let me see, all the treason I committed Is that I shifted houses; for I took Delight to cozen him of his subsidies; I always live obscurely, to avoid Taxations, I never pay the Church Her superstitious tithes, nor come to trouble Sermons, for fear of homilies before, That beg for burning. I am sent for the King, Niece, & shall be made a beggar As I was born; I see my chattel ceased, This chest is ransacked, and that bag deflowered, My door sealed up, and with this hungry Messenger, I am already marching to the Fleet. I, I, cursed dog. Go, I must go. Yes, when I am blown up; I read imprisonment in his very looks, And all my gold confiscate. Exeunt. Here's reveling, my purse must be squeezed for't: That's the King, the rest are bore; how upple they are I'th hams, that Courtier has Oiled his joints, He looks this way, they point at me; a rot O'that knay S finger. I smell no good from that word, ability. Giles Hornet, your poor creature. But am I Knighted? What must I pay for it? I'll fell it any friend of yours again, For half the money. These will be good enough for me, alas I am not able. What will become of me? Hum? if this be but preparative to a whipping, What case am I in? Enter servants with clothes. Alas, must I wear this doublet? it would yield Heaven knows how much to burn. I sha'not know my self. I am the man you please to call Sir Gyles. What Gentleman is that? My very good Lord, my breeches are almost on. His Grace has pleased to shine upon A piece of barren earth. You do talk strange things, My Lord. O, my good Lord of Landskip. I won't shave. I never give above threepence. And you are Master of the house, Sir Clement, For so I herd you called. And was she married this morning, say you? I have not seen her yet, nor any of the Ladies, You have but little noise methinks in the house. Who, as you say, came hither privately, with a small trai Of Lords; Would I might see his face again; I am not sent for yet, I have been ready, S r . Clement, these three hours, and I do wonder His Grace forgets himself so much. Indeed the case is somewhat a Altered, by your highness bounty To your poor subject, Hornet. Heaven bless your mighty Grace. I attend you presently: I know not what to think of these things yet, It's very strange I should be thus exalted Without desert; best known unto my self. Princes I see are mortal, and may be Deceived in placing of their honours, I Am little better than a favourite, If this be true: If? it's a question, Let me consider wisely, it may be I am not I. No, no, I am a Knight: Are these my clothes? I did not use to wear such A pocket in my sleeve and velvet hose, Six times translated since they were a Midwives Forepart, were things I wore on holidays. The price of these would break a Camels back, And yet some men walk under they Like Elephants, And have variety, as the Devil were Their Tailor, who best knows where all their land lies. Then why this cost on me? it is a dream, And I am very glad on't, it's impossible I should be true, it does not hang together, I will have patience till I wake again, And care not what becomes on't. How, the banquet done? I was coming to't, You could hardly say grace by this time. A running? so it seems, it made great haste: I do dream certainly, there's no sense nor reason In any thing they say. Let me alone: What turbulent Knave is that? A Lady too? Is she with child? What makes she Here, and she be with child already? 'Tell thee none such shall be admitted, while I am in place: More rapping? Keep the doors, If I do fallen a swearing once, look to't. Thy wives? What's he that pleads In forma pauperis? Like me? thou liest: I am more Like a Lord. Thou shalt fare never the better for that word: Knock down the women, and there be a hundred. And make their husbands drunk; the Guard are lazy: These women's insolence will force a Statute, I will petition to the King my self, They may have liberty but once a year To see the Galley foist, then be confined To their Chamber, and one Prentice—yet again. But while I am in office I'll know no body. Draw thy purse, wherein Thou keepest thy ears, and leave they at the door; The Guard trust none without a pawn; they'll serve, If they be never redeemed, to seethe in milk For a soar throat: Jews ears I know they are. My Niece? the devil she is. Her very voice: Would? open the doors there; Where is she? My Niece that called to me. No, nor my Scrivener bawling out, Sir Gyles, Not at any hand your worship. Then I dream, And I am a fool to make a question on't. The knaves laugh at me, but let they, I Shall be as merry with this tale to morrow: What fancies men have in their sleep sometime? His Highness. Where be the Ladies? Nay, it's no matter, why do I ask the question? What's here, the three Goddesses Contention for the golden ball? This is Paris ; So. These are the three Goddesses; Juno, Pallas, Venus. But he refuses, more fool he. No, no, that Fairy must win the ball. Would? that's my Niece. That whom Dame Venus and her Dandiprat Are busy withal. Bride, quotha? Nay, if she be my Niece, I am sure she was not Married this morning. She's saf enough at home, And has but half her wits, as I remember: The devi l cannot juggle her from my custody. Would, would, I do worser eame still. A very fine dream, i'faith. I humbly beg your license I may return to my own lodging. Would, would, would. At a conceit, at a conceit: What did I eat last night, to make me dream thus? Then I obey my destiny; Justice I see pursues the guilty person: Dispose me where you please. She's gone, she's gone, I shall run mad; My Niece, Robbed of three thousand pound in her escape, I find too late, I am awake and gull worser, Nor know I whom to accuse for my tormentors; Devils or men, but sure they were not men, But very fiends I revealed with last night. That I could meet the prince of devils that knighted me, The Poets call him Pluto, God of riches; I and my learned Council would undo him In Law, in very Law, which he should find Hotter ere I had done, than hell it self, And call his place of torment, in three Terms, But a refreshing to't: Yet let me see, I have the portion still, though she be vanished, That's better than my Niece, but if she marry, I loose it all there; there's the vexation. It's too late, away, I do not love unnecessary compliment. Yes, I am he; am I not very fine? What do you think this trim will cost me, would? Three thousand pounds, no more? Will you, sir, be gone, I have no money to lend now, it is not, You know, in fashion, with rich clothes. No; such a creature was in my possession: Do you know where she is? Would, good sir? pray forward: You shall have money upon good security. My Niece, as you were saying. Is that talked abroad? Ass. But touching my Niece, good sir, That most ungracious giglet, That's run or stolen away, juggled last night Out a my doors. Do not increase my agony; you came— What money do you want, sir? Your own bound shall suffice. Where I may find this girl. And honest man. Honester yet. For fifty pound. It's too much for no more labour, sir. The Bound is ready. Do this fear for me, and it's all thine own. I am not worth your prey, gentle lady In vain I should enuate my fact, To have the troubles of examinations; Here I confess again, my hand is guilty Of killing him whose feeble arm durst not Lift up a weapon to defend himself. Good ir no ceremony; We are come About business: I have lost my Ne ce, and would Know where she is. Not else; On that condition I deposit These hundred pieces, and a bound, if he Deliver me my Niece, they are his fraught, If not, they call me owner. As you see, fallen away and inch since morning, But this will physic me; If I possess This harlotry again, I'll make her sure: Trust not a woman, they have found the herb To open locks; not brazen Towers can hold'em. Or if they get not lose, they have the virtue Of Loadstones; Shut up in a box, they'll draw Customers to them; Nay, being dead and buried, There is a suspicion they will break the grave, Which puts so many husbands to the charge Of heavy stones to keep their bade wires under. O M r . Justice you are honest, I ha'been abused, so miserably cheated, I am ashamed to think on't, Stay, what, Would, it's my Niece; the very same. Take'em: But you shall go with me; have I found you? You shall dance homeward. How, wife? is she married? Give me my hand and money, M r . ustice. You have conspired to rob, cheat, and undo me; I'll have you all Star-chambered. I'll hear nothing. Tell me of a marriage? Persecution. Ha've mortified me you ? Now, would you done? The widow; Not a word more, take her, I'll pay you sir, Three thousand pounds to morrow: Noble widow You were in the first list to be invited; My Niece I told you of, is married to This worthy Gentleman. It's in your power to make it good; What say you, Shall we have issue? Now the word of comfort. You are resolved why, so: Come hither Nephew, Shalt be my heir, I love thee for thy wit; But charm thy friends, they do not laugh at me: I'll be a Knight too, if I live, and built And Hospital for twenty more o'th' Order, Which I'll reduce my self out of the Suburbs; It is a shame such men should loose their spurs In women's Petticoats, and turn Squires again To Whores, or Parasites to Noble men, For want of fit provision. Is there any more Work for the Priest? Then give you joy before hand, And let us celebrate the day together. And dares not spend it prodigally, knowing The principal end it was ordained to, was To relieve our necessity, and lay up What is above. They praise me, I am a thousand pound the worse for' .