MISTRESS CHANGEABLE

Sir, here's a gentleman ( Slightall so near?) Desires your conference (no devise at all To shift him hence?) His business craves dispatch, And is of serious urgence; 'twould become Your modesty to spare us some few minutes, Since it no whit concerns you. Son? Pray with draw, it comes from a great man. Daughter, a word. Listen to't, it's all for your preferment. You shall be a great Lady. And take place of all Knights wives in the Shire. His honour? so you shall be honourable, Be every day Caroach'd; and ride in state. But you shall sir, and send his Lordship satisfaction Even to his best desire; tell him from me She shall attend his pleasure: you shall, Nan, Use him with all obsequious reverence, And gladly embrace his motion; Girl, you shall. Forward sir, if you withstand the fortune of your Daughter In this tract of preferment without yours. Send him fair humble language, do my wench Accept his noble pleasure, and return him Courteous and loving thanks; think what it is To be attended, honoured, and advanced. My Lady Anne you shall. How poor and slightly Mistress Slightall sounds? Mistress? thou shalt have such to be thy servants, And curchy to thee when thou turnest thy head; Bow at each nod, and make their Farthingales, At every word thou speakest, to kiss their heals. Footmen, Pages, and your gentlemen Ushers, Walk bore before you. Weel stand to that, let it be put to her. Madam, may it please you take a second choice? You have your answer Slightall, and good sir, Return this to my Lord. Unless your wit were grey as well as your hairs; You grow in years, and so you should in wisdom. Did you never see a bore face teach a beard? It is no news in this so pregnant age. Well, well, man. Why I pray? Because I seek the advancement of our house? One of your gravity? I am ashamed, a Justice by Your place, and can appear so partial to your own; Whom should your providence devise to raise, If not your own? will you be twice a Child? And now, in this your second infancy, Not take care for your Cradle? Why then I am no sheep. It should be then your care to see me better pleased. Think what it is to have a great Lord call you Father in Law, and so your Daughter a great Lady. His Lordship will be here, give him good face, And courteous Language, or I'll make your board As loud as a perpetual Gossips feast, Or a discourse of Fishwives; and your Bed As if you were to lodge in Loth-bury Where they turn brazen Candlesticks. So you are Like to find it. Why well then: Might not this time much better Have been spent, to have taught your Daughter rudiments Of State? her postures, and decorums, fine French Congees, And quaint outlandish Garbs? one that hath been A Courtier in his youth, and brought nought thence? Fie, fie; I am ashamed of't. His Lordship sure? Why such at first, as you must be hereafter; Like a Lady. Proud, but not too perverse; Coy, not disdainful; Strange, but yet not too straight; Like one that would, Were she well wooed, but yet not to be wone, Without some formal Courtship; had it been My case, my wench, when I was young Like thee, Enter Lord Treatwell. I could have born it bravely. See, he's come, Husband, your Duty; Girl, your modest blush, Mixed with a kind of strange, but loving welcome; Were I as young as once: Your Lordship Sir, Hath done my House much honour. You see sir, what homely entertainment, And how course our poor House can afford you. What says my Child? He that kissed you last. Minion, how? Partly of it lies in what he left behind, Observance, state, retinue, and attendance, Of which you must partake. How cast thou fool? his Nobility lies in his blood, His Blood? Art thou mad? This foolish baggage will cross all we would come pass. Which she is ready to accept. Will you still prate? Or I shall but begin. My Lord, proceed. Which from his pre-eminence Must by mere consequence redound to you. That's no answer; Why Nan, why Minion, good your Lordship, take nought in ill partly; a peevish thing, God wot, that wants a little tutering. Still will you prate? wil't please your honour, take Such cheer as this our suddainenesse affords? And there's no question but ere dinner's done This Tempest will blow over. Please you enter? Attendance for his Lordship. Exeunt. Peace you, all will be well, I hope; yet peevish, but It will bring plyantnes: it's coming on a pace. And yet your wisdom would have matched your Daughter unto that spendthrift Beggar. Minion. how? Sure the Girl's grown frantic. Star me no stars. Is he such? how now bold huswife, baggage, peevish Thing, rude, disobedient, apish, and perverse, Irregular, hare brained, harsh and obstinate? BUt was he so perverse and peremptory? Which would he not receive? Did you suffer it? 'Twas bravely done. But leaving that, How does my Daughter relish you of late? Do you not find her coming? Doubt not then, all will be to our wishes; One thing only, which sadds me when I think of't. To think my house should be so strangely troubled In dead of Night. And that I fear it is my Mother's Spirit, Who for some unknown causes restless walks, As one not sleeping in her quiet grave; It's this that moves me deeply. That's his faith, but we are froc'd to credit Otherwise by lamentable proof. Ent. M. Changeable. And what comfort? Not Slightall? Of all men living I am loath that he should lodge Beneath my Roof; were there none such he'de play the Devil himself. Nay sweet Nan be persuaded. How does my sweet heart? See here's my Lord. What would my honey have? Whom wilt have To watch with thee all night? Silence all. Mum. So, softly as you can; some little rest Will bring her to her temper, for this night We will commit her to her Father's charge, since she so Much desires it. Sir, wondrous ill, She will endure no counsel, physic, language, All tongues are clamour to her, saving yours, Harsh as a black Sant, or a grating Wheel; And I much fear without some providence, she scarce Will live till morning. In mean time, how will you dispose your self? Maugre spirits, I'll Once take spirit into me. But this I'm sure. They are exceeding Like. Were I not certain my daughter Nan were desperately Sick, and kept both Bed and Chamber, I durst swear That were my Girl. Even for that, great reason too, would I could under stand it. Because he was enamoured first on her, The more to tempt him, she assumed that shape, Whom else could she so fitly personate? Nay go together, you have my consent, I'll never forbid the Banes. The Devil give you good of't. Let me leap down the next way, for the contract I vow to break. Fooled and deluded? give me way my Lord, For I will down among them. Was this a marriage in the Devils name? That your she Lamia ? Were you sick with a vengeance? And am I overreached? well Slightall, My blessing on thee, she's thine. Where I was wont to call thee baggage, Nan, And paltry Girl, I must not dare to speak to your Honour, without a Prologue of some half and hour long, Which must begin, an't please your Ladyship. Dost thou not see him there? A good riddance. There's no affright in this. Wondrously. Ten days, no more, Partly of that time that Slightall hath been Mad, My daughter passed her senses. No, only one by Chamber stands remote, And in that after Midnight there's a noise, That troubles the whole house of howlings, shrickes, Fireworks and Crackers, as if the great squib-maker Were new come from beyond Sea. Only my desperate Husband, who, one night, Would be so foolish venturous as lodge there, But did return so frighted, told such wonders, Still fright me to remember. Heaven rest her soul, my mother. A Devil sir Like me? Here's now my Husband, he can speak it all. And now art found. Made me again thy Mother, and this work, Your ever patient and obedient wife. Sick in her Chamber, where she keeps her Bed, And dares not thence remove.