FOWLER

Why how now Franck, grown musty on a sud-dain? Head hung, and playing the thief thus with your friends, to steal your person from us, what's the matter. Let's in again to the Ladies. Your soft Stars will not let you be so cruel Lady, to give repulse to a lover. He measures my affection by the length of his own, Prithee Satire choose another walk, and leave us to enjoy this, thou knowest not my intent. Express your self Fairest. If you have so active and eye Lady, you may see a throng of Passion flaming at my heart, set a fire by your beau ty I protest t'ee; come, shame not your wisdom to believe report or opinion ath'world, it's a malicious age we live in, if your ears have been abused with any ill noise, a me you shall tell your self if you love me, the world is a shameless and miserable detractor, you do not despise me Lady. — How blind? Shall I swear I love you, as I am a Gentleman. As I am and honest man. Well said. Would you have my tongue in my heart Lady? Why, your wit is a tyrant now, pray tell me do not you love me mightily now above Potatoes, come I see the little blind Boy in your eyes already. Yes, I know by your bitterness you wish me well and think there is some hope I may be won too, you take pains to whip me so handsomely, come I'll be a good child and kiss the rod. You would have me praise you now, I could ram ble in your commendation. Dee but think so, why you shall hear me, Your hairs are Cupid's Nets, a Forehead Like the saytest coast of heaven without a cloud, your eybrow is loves bow while either Eye are arrows drawn to wound, your psalm the Temple or sacred phane of kisses often as they mere exchanging Roses your tongue Loves lightning, neck the Milky path or throne where fit the Graces, do not I know that I have abused you all this while, or do you think I love you a thought the better, or with all my Poetical dau beings can altar the complexion of a hair now. No dispraise te'e I have seen as handsome a woman Ride upon a sack to Market, that never knew the impulsi on of a Coat or the price of a Stammell petticoat, and I would seen a worse face in a Countess; what's that? Must you be proud because men do call you handsome, and yet though we are so foolish to tell you so, you might have more wit then to beeleeue it, your eyes may be matched I hope, for your nose there be richer in our sex, t'is true that you have colour for your hair we grant it, and for your cheeks, but what do your teeth stand you in Lady, your lips are pretty but you lay they too open and men breath too much upon they, for your tongue we all leave you ther's no con testing, your hand is fine but your gloves whiter, and for your leg, if the commendation or goodness of it be in the small, there be bade enough in Gentlemens stockings to compare with it; come remember you're imperfect creatures without a man, be not you a Goddess I know you're mor tall, and had rather make you my companion then my Idol, this is no flattery now. How now Franck. Am life thou art in love. Do not mistake your self for I am. No indeed not caught neither, therefore be not oh uerioy'd good morality, why dost thou think it possible a woman's face or any thing without her can inchant me. Why, to try their wits with which I sharpen my own, dost think I am so mad to marry, sacrifice my liber ty to a Woman, fell my patromony to buy them Feathers and new fashions, and maintain a Gentleman Usher to ride in my saddle when I am Knighted, and pointed at with Py thagoras for my tame sufferance, would my Wardrobe laid forth and my holiday breeches, when my Lady pleases I shall take the air in a Coach with her, together with her Dog that is costïue, be appointed my table what I shall eat, accor ding as her Ladyship finds her own body inclined, fed up on this or that Melancholy dish by prescription, guarded with officious Salads Like a Prisoner in a throng, praise her beautiful allowance of course Mutton that have the world of dainty flesh before me, 'twere a sin oo discretion and my own freedom. Prithee do not talk of Dying, a pox o'the Bel man and his Omniam benes, but that I think I know thy Fa there, I should hardly believe thou Wertenberg a Gentleman, how ever thy Aristotles ibi will make thee uncapable of their company shortly, if you Catechise thus you shall have few Gentlemen your Disciples that have any blood or spirit about they, there's no discourse so becoming your Gallants now, as a Horse raze or Hide -Park? what Ladies lips are softest? what Fashion is most terse and Courtly? what news abroad? which is, the best Vaulting house? where shall we taste Canary and be drunk too night, talk a morality — here be Ladies still, you shall hear me court one on they, I hope you wee' not report abroad among my friends that I love her, it's the love of mounting into her maidenhead I vow Jack, and nothing else. Whither is't Lady? I'll wait on you, and after that abroad, it's and in uiting day, are you for the Coach. Or for the Couch? Take me a Companion for either. How neither, blame your self if you be idle Howsoever you shall not be alone, make use of My arm Fairest, you will to your Lute, I herd you Could touch it cunningly, pray bless my ears a little. A string you mean, but it's no matter, your voice is not, ravish a little with that, if you please I can help you to and heir by this black eye which Nature hath given you, I'll not leave you I'll follow ye. Exeunt Foe r, and Penelope. In good time. I confess I wrote something in my own cause, but the chief cause was to convey my friends affection to his Mistress. It's for your honour if you help any way to and vance and honest business, and yet mistake me not though the Rack should enforce from me without a second rea son I had not wrote to you, yet for so much as concerned my self by this kiss, my pen hath but set down the resolu on of my heart to serve you. How? why any way, give me your Livery I'll wear it, or a Coat with a Cognizance by this light, I fear you are and Heretic still and do not believe as you should do, come let me rectify your Faith, serve you Not serve you? Why dee think a man cannot love and serve too. You are too literal, and yet i'th strict sense I would known a woman has served half a dozen Gentlemen handsomely, so, so, and yet the last had enough of her too, why should not one man serve two Gentlewomen, it argues against your Sex, that you are more insatiable ath' two, but I have a simple affection I protest and individual, I'll near serve but one. But one at once, and but one always, by this Dya mond. I am forsworn if I do not, for I vowed before I came to bestow it, come wear it in your bosom, it shall be and earnest of more precious jewels, though not of so bright a lusty that will follow. Love you? In what sense? Why in any sense at your own choice, or in all the senses together and you doubt me: I do love to see your face, hear your voice, smell your breath, touch your tree, and taste your golden Apples. You do not doubt my sufficiency dee? And would not I told you? Pray teach me a better way to express it. Does a Wiseman love Fools fortune, and a Nobleman another beside my Lady? Does the Devil love and Usurer, a Great man his Flatterer, the Lawyer a Full Term, or the Physician a dead time to thrive in. I'll spin it finer and finer every day Sweet, to be plain with thee, what dost thou think of me for a husband, I love thee that way. Is there my thing in me would commend it self, that I may spare my other commendations, for I am resol ved to be yours at any ate of my own praise, or what I can purchase from my friends. She nibbles already. I would be to your daughter. Manly how is't? Pray know this gentleman Lady Master Worthy heel deserve your acquaintance. Soliciting a cause of Venus. No but I'll do the best to make her one, She loves me already, that's some engagement I dare trust thee with my sins, who's here Aymwell and Clare. Enter Mr. Aymwell, Mr. Clare, Brains. Franck. It's delivered you must expect. I have a plot and thou must help me. Who's that. And she be but a little busy she's more then half at leisure. It's granted. His heart is whole again. Mr. Worthy I take my leave. Master Worthy I take my leave. And thou dost not play the Doctor handsomely, Il'e set the College of Physicians upon thee for practising without a licence. I would but con terfeit. I have known a spruse Empiric hath given his patient 2 or 3. stools with the bore repetition of crude words, and knotty sentences, which have come from him Like a Phlegm, which beside the operation in the hearers, who admire him for't, while he beats Like a drum, at their barrel head, and turns their brains Like beer, does him the benefit to scour his own dirty maw, whose dregs else would putrify; and infest his cheeks worse then a gangreene. As sure as I am well, for and I were sick and would sleep, I would rather, take a nap o'th ridge of Etna, and thee fallen of deafening Nilus, then endure the visitation, of any of their tribe — one knocks, my pil low and lay my head in the aching posture. One knocks Sick, sick. Alas. You are merry, it seems you have wone the Lady. The better to see you here. Give us leave pray. I know you love me. I have a great mind and 'twere but for two or 3. Minutes, to have a maid warm my bed. With her body—else will do me no good the Doctor says — to put life in some of my limbs, a little virgin warmth wo'd doo't. But now and then I have such cold fits again — and t'is the Doctors opinion — a very learned man. Doctor. What, a cold. And thou hast not lost thy Maidenhead it's no mat ter, have a little care of thy Frank Tenement, and thy tongue will come time enough to it self I'll warrant thee, what place has she chosen for the Encounter? Her chamber? Is't all dark, I commend her policy the better, then the room, and the deed that must be done in't will be of one complexion, so she be light I care not, prithee convey me to her. As thy shadow woe be to some a the deer sex when a Chambermaid is Usher to a Gentleman. Exit. Hell, if darkness will carry it, yet hell cannot be so black. There are too many flames in't, thy hand, what Monks hold hast thou brought me to, where's thy Mistress. Is this the way? it is a very blind one, the Devil can hardly know me if he meet me here that's my come fort, yet if he did, he loves the sin too well to interrupt so precious a meeting, prithee Child of darkness conduct me to the handsome Fairy I must dance withal. My Fever, I forget my self, I should have counterfeited sick all this while, but no matter and thy Mistress know it not, thou art skilful in secrets, and I will deserve it: two or 3. I S when I am in her presence, will make her keep her promise, wo'me about the cure, for that she thinks I was so, prithee do thy office and bring me to her, I hope she is not within hearing. So about it then. A fee belonging to your place, as I hope for a limb of thy Mistress I had forgotten it, there's gold I can feel it by this darkness: for thou seest I have no light to swear by it's weight, quick periwincle to thy mistress now. There's more, take silver and all. Is it nothing? by this hand wo'd I could see't, 'tis all I have, wilt search me? Another Fee belongs to us? what's that? I must kiss her, th'hast a down lip, and dost twang it handsomely, now to the business. She won't tempt me to come aloft will she? If I could see her she does blush she; fays 'tis so: o the insatiable desires of Chambermaids! they were wont to look no higher then the Groom or Sir uingman and be thankful, or if the Master would be plea said to let they show him this lobby to'ther withdrawing chamber, or the turret in summer, and take occasion to continued ̄ mend the situation and so forth, 'twas after the Lady had been served, out of his own mere motion and favour, and 'twas taken as and endearement for ever of their service and secrecy, now they must be tasters to'em i'the sweet sin, Fees o'the Court must be paid, or no suit come menc'd with iniquity, Oh Venus, what will this world come to? Yes, I cannot see thee. Wash thy polluted soul. What? What de'e mean Gentlewomen, I do not feel any such dangerous sickness. No no, I can walk for they my self if needs be. What's the meaning a this sick and dying, I feel no pain, I have herd of some died with conceit, if it should kill me, I were a precious coxcomb, was ever poor Gentleman brought into such a foolish paradise pre pared for a raze, and mounting into the saddle, I must go home and die, well, if I live I'll quit your cunning, and for the more centainty, my revenge may prosper, I won't say my prayers till it take effect. Enter Tutor. I do walk still, by all circumstance I am alive, not sick in any partly but my head, which has only the pangs of invention, and is in travel of some precious revenge, for my worse then Masculine affront, what if I report abroad she's dishonest, I cannot doe'em a worse turn then to say so: some of our Gallants take a pride to belie poor Gen tlewomen a'that fashion, and think the discourse and ho nou_r_ to they; confidently boast the fruition of this or that Lady, whose hand they never kissed with the Glove off: and why may not I make it my revenge, to blur their fame's a little for abusing me. Fouler ! Would? That's I, that's I, would? Dead, am I dead? I wo'd not believe my self sick, belike I am dead, it's more then I know yet. By all circumstance they mean me, these Gentle men know me too, how long is it since I departed? Some mistake — Would, would, Gentlemen, what d'ee think a'the dead man? Coxcombs d'ee not know me, I'm alive, dee not see me? For whom my furious Poet, would, not know me, do I walk invisible, or am I my own Ghost, and you woe not see me, you shall feel me, you have a nimble pate, I may chance strike out some flash of wit — no — Here comes another, save you Master Worthy. Indeed you lie Sir. Is my body at your house? Very good, then I am dead, am I not? Whose Funeral, you man of Bedlam. Master Worthy, Gentlemen d'ee hear. Ex. man. Fow. Is't possible, not know me, not see me, I am so thin, and aery, I would slipped out a'the world it seems, and did not know on't — if I be dead, what place am I in, where am I? This is not Hell, sure I feel no torment, and there is too little company, no it's not Hell — and I would not lived of ter the rate of going to Heaven; yet beside, I met joust now a Usurer, that only deals upon ounces, and carries his Scales at his Girdle, with which he uses to weigh, not men's necessities, but the Plate he is to lend money upon, can this fellow come to Heaven? Here a poor fellow is put i'th stocks for being drunk, and the Constable himself reeling home, charges others i'th Kings name to aid him. There's a spruce Captain, newly crept out of a Gentleman Usher, and shuffled into a Buff Jurkin with gold Lace, that never saw service beyond Finsbury or the Artillery Gar den, marches waving a desperate Feather in his Ladies bea for, while a poor Soldier, bred up in the School of War all his life, yet never commenced any degree of Counterfeit ̄ mander, wants a piece of Brass, to discharge a wheaten Bullet to his? belly no — this is not Heaven I know by the people that traffic in't, where am I then? Umh I'll to Worthies before they bury me, and inform my self better what's become a me, if I find not my self there in a Cof fin, there's hope I may revive again, if I be dead, I am in a world very Like the other, I will get me a female spirit to converse withal and kiss, and be merry, and imagine my self alive again. Exit. This is the room I sickened in, and by report died in, umh I have herd of spirits walking with aerial bodies, and would been wondered at by others, but I must only wone der at my self, for if they be not mad, I'm come to my own burial, certain these clothes are substantial, I owe my Taylor for they to this hour, if the Devil be not my Taylor, and hath furnished me with another suit very Like it — This is no magical noise, essential gold and silver? What do I with it if I be dead? Here are no reckonings to be paid with it, no Tavern Bills, no midnight Revels, with the costly Tribe of amorous she sinners, now I can not spend it, would the poor had it, by their prayers I might hope to get out of this new pitiful Purgatory, or at least know which way I came in to't — Here they are in mourning, what a Devil do they mean to do with me — not too many tears Lady, you will but spoil your eyes, and draw upon they the misery of Spectacles, do not you know me neither? Would, out wa't, nay and the woman but acknowledge me alive, there's some hope a me. I'm dead again. I am worms meat, This is my Funeral sermon. In all this sermon I have herd little commendam tions of our deer brother departed, rich men do not go to th'pithole without Compliment of Christian burial, it seems if I had lived to would made a will, and bequeathed so much legacy as would purchase some Preacher a neat Case sock, I should would died in as good estate and assurance for my soul as the best Gentleman i'th Parish, had my Monum meant in a conspicuous place of the Church, where I should would been cut in a form of prayer, as if I had been called away at my devotion, and so for hast to be in heaven, went thither with my book and spectacles—do'e hear Lady and Gentlemen, is it your pleasure to see me, though not know me? and to inform a walking business when this so much lamented brother of yours departed out of this world, in his life I had some relation to him, what disease died he of pray? who is his heir yet at Counterfeit ̄ mon Law, for he was warm in the possession of Lands, thank his kind fa there, who having been in a consumption sixteen years, one day above all the rest having nothing else to do, died, that the young man might be a Landlord, according to the custom of his ancestors: You should be his heir or executor at least by your dry eyes, Sir I commend thee, what a miserable folly it's to weep for one that's dead, and has no sense of our lamentation, Wherefore were Blacks invented? to save our eyes their tedious distillations, it's enough to be sad in our habits, they have cause to weep that have no mourning Cloth, it's a sign they get little by the dead, and that's the greatest sorrow now adays, you loved him Lady, to say truth you had little cause, a wild young man yet and he were alive again, as that's in vain to wish you know, he may perchance be more sensible, & reward you with better service, so you would not proclaim his weakness,—faith speak well a'th dead hereafter and bury all his faults with him, will you, what are these all the guests? would? what pa pers? some Elegy or Epitaph? who subscribes? o this is your Poetry. How he died some do suppose How he ined the Parish knows, Whither he's gone to heaven or hell, Ask not me I cannot tell. Very well, would the Gentleman your friend were alive to give you thanks for they. What have we more? Underneath, the fair not wise, Too self loved Narcissus lies, Yet his sad destruction came From no Fountain but a flame, Then youth Quench your hight desires, Purge your thoughts with chaster fires, Least with him it be too late, And death triumph in your fate Hither all you Virgins come, Strow your tears upon this Tomb. Perhaps a timely weeping may So dispose his scorched clay, That a chased and snowy flower May reward your gentle shower. Very well done upon so dead a subject, by the Virgin that's in't, you should owe this parcel of Poetry Lady. O now you can answer me, am I dead still? Then you talk to a dead man. Where am I dead? Stay, Tha'rt a Noble girl, and dost deserve To marry with and Emperor, remove This sad thing from us, you do know me Gentlemen Witness my death to vanity, quitting all Unchaste desires, revive me in thy thoughts, And I will love as thou hast taught me nobly And Like a husband, by this kiss the seal That I do shake my wanton slamber off, And wake to virtue. I will grow old i'th study of my honour, this last conflict hath quite overcome me, make me happy in the style of your son. Be not mad. Fine juggling. Frank whence comest? You are happy Sir, in being deceived, he is a noble Gentleman. It's a very foolish one, to what purpose have I been talking all this while, that you make it a question, has not it been the Theme of all my discourse hitherto, that I do love you. It does me good Lady to feel you by — the hand. The Doctor I thank him has taken pains with me, but he says — nothing will do me good. But that, which is another sickness to reveal. Ah the desire of unlawful flesh, what a conjuring dost thou keep within us to lay this little spirit of con science, the world and the devil, are tame and sprightless temptations, poor traffic to this staple commodity of Whoring: this is the place where I must take shipping for the Summer Islands, if she keep touch, I will call them fortunate, and once a Week make a Love voyage to them. Would! are we entertained with Music? Back, back again, found man forbear, Buy not a Minutes play too deer: Come with Holy flame and be Welcome to Virtue and to me. Come with Holy flame and be, welcome to Virtue and to me? Flame? I bring none will me, and I should be sorry to meet any fire works here, for those hereafter I look on they a far off, and apprehend them with less fear, a gain? Love a thousand sweets distilling, And with Nectar bosoms filling, Charm all eyes that none may find us, Be above, before, behind us; And while we thy pleasures taste Enforce Time it self to stay, And by forelock hold him fast Least occasion slip away. I marry, this is another manner of invitement, I'll to her but — Enter Winifrid. Here comes the squire of her Mistress's body, how does my little taper of Virgin wax, thou hast been in some damp thou burnest blue me thinks. Well. Wooed some of you would do't quickly, that I might would company, Franck thou art married, and Sir Nicholas has made a Lady, I would lived lose a great while, and do purpose to be made fast to this Gentlewoman. To whose act I owe my true Conversion. When all things have their trial, you shall find. Nothing is constant but a virtuous mind. Exeunt. A cunning Doctor