in Two Wise Men and All the Rest Fools — Anonymous
Metadata
Play
Two Wise Men and All the Rest Fools
Author
Anonymous
Year (catalogued)
1619
First performance
1619
Decade
1610s
Genre
Satirical Dialogue
Play type
Private (?); University (?)
Speech prefix(es)
Lev. | Lev, | L • v.
Words
1426
Characters
7161
Typicality
0.46 (cosine to cluster centroid)
TCP id
A18423
BritDrama no.
1891
Cluster
Cluster 1 — Wives, widows & intimate counsel
Important excerpts
No keyword-matching excerpt could be extracted (the cluster label doesn't share vocabulary with this character's speech).
Full speech
Indeed Sir, it seems you have been well bred, else you had never grown to this stature. Nay first I had need to answer your complaint to your friend, that I am so cursed and churlish. What uncivil term did I give, deserving so sharp a censure? women know not how to speak. If merrily, then our jest is termed S offing, and quipping. I soberly, then our modesty is counted coyness, and want of courtesy. So that unless we say nothing, we commit error. And yet silence is not clee e: for then are we sheep ( alias ) fools. But you turned not mine ears from your mouth. No doubt you will: to have me further off when you say the worst. Nothing comes from you (I see then) but by con strain. Sir, it is against nature to remit injuries, therefore your request is unreasonable. But for his sake that gave the counsel, I will for give my greatest enemies: yet you must know it is lawful to reprehend your misdemeanours. You that content your self with no habitation but a Princes Palace, and will serve no less creature then Caesar: that no sooner pass the Porters lodge, but li to up your legs and lips, as if you had commission to control the country, to breathe nurture from your nostrils, and be patron to poor people: whose gate and gesture give to stimonie to your hearts haughtiness: and whose count nance must outface all encounterers, how could you be so grossly overshot, as to cast your self unacquainted, un friended uncommended, and unpresented into the compa nigh of a gentlewoman of fashion? Why Sir? are you a courtier? and ask of what fa shion I am? do you not see that I am of the newest, and eam est fashion? who sees my band and perrywig, & doubts of that: I am persuaded you will prove a counterfeit , and no courtier, that are ignorant in so general a knowledge? Sir, let it suffice you that it is the newest fashion this very day. And if the sighed and smell of it offend your nose, you know the ordinary remedy is to remove your nose. Yet I suppose by your paleness you use to take Ta baccho, then which, nothing is more fulsome. You do but guess that I use art to give grace to y feature, so it is easy for you to be deceived: but I will tell you a certain rule to know if any woman be painted. If you suspect it, take a pin, and scratch her cheek pretty deep to the bone, and if it b ed not, assure your self she is painted. Secondly, I charge you with flattery, at every word calling me Lady: which you are very sure I am not, seeing me come hither on my own feet, whereas if I were a Lady I must of necessity be at my Caroach with 4 horses, or else my honour is in the dust in summer, and in the mire in win ter. This then is and unexcusable sin of yours. Nay, I would not have you think that I am excee dingly angry for mistaking my present condition. It was a fault, but very venial. Your other errors I will conceal for this time, as unwilling to oppress you with penance, since I find you so freely to offer satisfaction. If I were fit to receive one of your sort, how could you serve me and the king too? can you serve two Master's? Very hardly, respecting the persons inequality: but if I should be so minded, what can you do? Can you, and will you do whatsoever I ent eat or command you without grudging? Then I request and command you to let me alone, and never hereafter speak to me. I will prove it hath both, or else I release your word. I thought so. draff was your errant but drink you would have. you seek a service, but you mean to be master: this trick will fail you: for I have vowed beforehand, and I am bound to keep it. Yes, contrary enough, as white is to black. And to hold you no longer in suspense, my vow and purpose is to be a Nun. Oh Sir, I can quickly cast off this attire, and get a Nuns habit. If the mind be changed, the apparel will soon be altered. What will it avail you to know my Cloister, and walk without the wall? for there, all access & intercourse is barred. Sir I must crave respite to answer you directly to these questions: for I must have my friends advice before I resolve. And so for this to me I take leave. Your questions ir (if I forget not) were, what was my name, and what order I purpose to enter. My name is Levitia. And my desire is to be a Nun of my mother's order. But if my virginity were not of full age; and Maidenhead a dangerous burden, I would be a Nun of a straighter order. My mother vowed chastity, and after that had a child by her husband. I herd you talk at Random of such a thing. Ma nigh such (I doubt not) you have made, and quickly brok n; and this of the same mettle, & so will prove as bri le. Cour tlers vows of this nature are but words, a little more stiffly blown out of their mouths, then the rest of their speech, but come no nearer their hearts. The gunner puts a little more powder in the gun to make it carry the shot further, but hits the mark no whit the righter: So they driven their vows with a little stronger breath, but their intention I not the straighter. How shall that appear to me? Sir, a S conder of a tale makes many times and in credible thing believed. And for your testimony, I give him credit the better, and perhaps I was within ght and hearing too, when this gentleman was so lovesick as you speak of, which made me in very pity come the So ner in to relieve him. And I would not have you think Par vagracio that I am disdainful, for that wins nothing but hatred: nor am I cruel, for that is ever paid home with extreme misery. Now yet am I proud (which vice you touched not) for that is derided of all wise people, but my fear and doubt was always to be deceived. Here is my hand I will never leave you. But what a fool was I? I should have agreed for maintenance and jointure before I had been handfast. I Like all well but my allowance for pins: it is not enough: for it is a base fashion now-a-daies to use cufhnets and save pins. The very warmth of our bodies, will change their colour in three hours, and they will be croo ked with pulling off, fie upon them: but I'll be a good hus wife otherwise and get as much by other means as shall piece out this pension to make it serve. Sirrah, I have skill in Physic, I can cure the in any man. And if he be never so lean, and rawbone, I can so diet him in half a year, that he will be fed until he grow purse-sick. And for thee (sweet heart) be of good cheer, for thou shalt ne for die (without a great chance) as long as I live. For I can play a trick, that if thou be never so cold, or frozen almost to death, I can make thee lukewarm in half and hour. Fear nothing of that, you shall have me and my portion at and instant, all together ready bagged. What? knives? Oh, I will not take them in any with e, they will cut love. Pardon me (good Sir) you shall not give them me. If needs you will that I wear them, do you loose, and I will find them. This is as it should be: now I have deceived desti j. In any case look to the main chance, for now you have a clog. It is the first gift every wife gives her husband. Indeed you shall not deny me this first request, I pray you loose them. You mock this Parvagracio. I warrant you do not think it evil luck if the salt fallen towards you.