VASTER

No more of her. Her prayers. Are putrid sacrifices: Like foul airs, Too thick to mount up to yond glorious feeling. " When black hands are reared up, heaven has no feeling. O 'tis a brave Puritan-world, when boys talk of con science! Conscience must lie at the stake, when they play but at blowpoint. Sirrah, as you love your Conscience, hate a wife. Zlid, if I thought thou wouldst marry, I would unbless thee, as I have disinherited thee already: Get bastards, as I would have God thee. A woman may serve to lie withal: none good enough to marry. True? true to the brothel, to the spittle, to the graven. Thou art death's agent: a whore is one of his Beadles. Then swear. And keep thy oath. I'll travel to the wars, And turn thee up, as some Captains wont; and try, If thou canst live by thy old trade, or die. Hoh, within there. Aunt Marre-maid I have brought you the girl I promised. Is the money ready? Aunt, pray use her well: she's my own sister. Be petula ̄ to you whore, sprightly frolic—as a Dutch Tanikin.—or—This woman is a Bawd, a very Bawd; you Like her the better for that. Come, skip about, quick silver: Dance Like a Courtesan, or I'll fiddle you. You have more tricks in private, then a Fencer can teach a Lord, or the devil a Fencer. Life, do you pule? I must have fifty pound for you: Do you hear? Let your heals caper, and your tongue grow wanton, or by these horns I'll gore you—Aunt, she's somewhat sick of that rare disease, called Modesty. But in private she's more insatiate then a Puritan. O you Witch—Aunt, she lies eight and twenty, at least Hark you sister,— Please this old Hag, make her believe you are right, And answerable to her Stygian spells: Or I will bear thee to and Army, and there Ha'thy sod flesh sold, lent; and prestituted, And my self Cuckolded forty times a day. Leave this forced so bernesse—Aunt, will you hear her speak? There—now be gone. Father, you speak to rocks, or the surd waves. Sayest thou me so, boy? then there's money, win't and wear't. Hau you any gall to't Sir? Jest on. have you any more to say to me. Would? first tell me truly what you are. He stands secure. Haste to your chamber. There I'll meet you presently, and then we'll share. Not with my sword, but with a tale shall wound thy a mazed heart—come, let's fit down. Let's muffle up our villains with the shadow Of some great conference: if a cheat be offered, We'll not refuse: but now to compass it, Must not be done by force of arms, but wit. Confess thy sins. the hast some wench in a cor ner. Whose belly has joust cause to sue and Actium Of trespass, gainst thy covetous lustest exaction: For detinie of many hundred meals, Which it from others, and thy self too; steals. The Gout. Groom? I'm a man. And can do, Hostice, what another can. Come, shall I speak in gold, and Actium? So: spoke my outside brave; did my rich husk Allow me impudent; and my undowned chin Promise my blood unsucked out by this sin, You would run mad on me. Now, now, she's coming. Yes: on this condition. Let me enjoy thy love on this soft ground: I'll pay it back, were it three hundred pound. Stir not: this charges you: are you not content? Come, with a silent kiss seal your consent. No, I would have yours hold me. Come, will you fadge? Infection, no. Y are dangerous by your own confession. What then Sir? Sirrah, call your mother. This boy's a Puritan. I that had never loved my self to be thought good, Am highly pleased to see it in my blood. From whom derives this sprig such fruitful juice; The father being bade, the mother worse. Sure, he did suck this goodness from his Nurse. Poor boy, my riot has undone thee: poor Thou'rt made by me, I by a wife turned whore. My state is mortgaged to the usurous hand Of Gripe: my goods are wasted: all my Hope's life Breathes thus: having sold all, I'll fell my wife. you are welcome, Looseness. Thou, my content, turned whore. Yes, and am joust. Since thou forsookest me, and thine innocence, Be thy reward proportioned I must hence. While thou wast good, to thee I had free desire. Now thou art proved a whore receive thy hire. Not sixteen. I have oft seen a couple of light heals Carry a sober head: a woman's tongue Read lectures of civility; her face A printed book, each dimple a sweet line, That does to good the Readers eye incline, Never till now a body forced to do, What the poor mind loathes to consent unto. She dances weeping, laughs and sighs in pain. So I have seen (me thinks) Sunshine in rain. I am a villain, but she makes me weep. Why do I think she's false? I never saw't. Tut, all bells ring that tune. It is too true. I told her that this fifty pound should carry me to the wars; But I have a battle to fight ere I go. Old Gripe that has the mortgage of my lands, Lies sick of the Gout, and seldom stirs abroad. Some of that raze I'll kill, or leave my own life In pawn I would have done it. I have challenged Benjamin Gripe the son, whom the world calls The Honest Lawyer. He comes. You're the son of a villain. Thy self's a villain. Lie? Thou exasperatst One mad already, that would have hazard heaven To make this earth drunk with thy blood. Thy father hath undone me, and mine issue. The law affords no succour: what remains, But only to let him bleed through thy veins? Ask no more. The State Of our strife is, thou art his Son, I hate. He's gone. Now up again. My wounds Are slight, yet through their windows, hear I breath Out all my malice. Noble youth, I love thee. How little of thy father hast thou in thee! Now for some strange disguise, till time I find, To pleasure him that was to me thus kind. This russet-shape of a plain-dealing yeoman Spirits my Hope's with boldness. Sharp suspicion Like to a winking Justicer shall see me, And yet not see me. Thus with grief-swollen eyes, I'll match my wife, and children's Misery's. This fifty pound I'll husband Like a Badger; Buy and fell Barley: and so easily wind Into the present passages of Bedford. How good a schoolmaster is Poverty! I could not live on hundreds, that came in By annual rends; now I begin to thrive On the small fragments. Thus Like Prodigals, That once did scorn the meat, now glad of pottage. The manor gone, I'll try to live oth' cottage. Bedford, ha'for you. The word, you are a thief. Are you so cunning at the black Art? I'll try your skill. What, both at once? that's no fair play. How? much? As inseparably, as a condition does and obligation. The safest stratagem we could devise, By craft, more then by strength, all thieves do rise. Of many politic knaves you cannot spy one. The Fox will have his prey before the Lion. (The woman, that released them, I should know. She frees them from this bondage to a worse. There is no thief, Like whore, to pick the purse.) When shall we share the booties, and be proud, How liberally our division mounts? This is the rock that split me. O good fate! That thou hadst now about thee half my state. Is't sin to rob the Thief? by usurious course, He once robbed me, now I rob him by force. No difference but this, betwixt him and me. I have not such protection, as had he. Thou art indeed; wealth without use does free No soul from the bleak storms of poverty. Who cannot nature's requests satisfy Out of his wealth, his coffer's rich, not he. Thus far quits my revenge. The Usurer lies, As fast in mine, as I am in his ties. Now let me kill him. No, blood shall not die My other sins in purple. Lie there. Lo! That the wise law would serve all usurers so. How few in thy bonds didst thou ere untie? Now bound thy self, so without mercy lie. See how this woman still me quits, and crosses. I rob and bind, and she relieves their losses. Why does she thus? Its but a trick of hers: By charity to draw in customers. I am now patient, but more Cuckold still. I help her to supply, gainst my own will. I have commendations to you from one Vaster: For by's description you should be the man. alas Sir, you know he's dead. And by your bloody hand was murdered. Is not your name Sir Benjamin Gripe! You killed him, Sir. Poor man he died With penitence to heaven, to you remission. Said, that you did it Like a man, provoked By his intemperate rage. Fate gave that I Keeping his walk, came to close up his eye. He charged me seek you out, and gave me gold, To bury him in secret; lest his death Should hazard yours, and charmed my silent breath. Farewell Sir, think on Vaster. Keep on your habit. Our walk's turned Pouls, I think. Fezz Sir, you have a brave wash there. Chill warrant the Kings wash-maker made it. Beseech you mozter Nice, let me see master Parson wash. Master Pason will you zell your wash, chill give you good cash for it. Will you run with me for it? Cheuore you run for't, you shall never have't else. A piece of Cheese of the Low-country Dairies. This is the usual diet of the Fairies. Man-eater. Thou fettting Canker. No more. If thou do not Repent, restore, turn good, fit till thou rot. Fare-ill. To those that ask how came this evil, Give answer thus: The Fairies robbed the Devil. Help her to bear it in, and see't laid up. Zlid, my wife takes degrees; she rises fairly. I sold her hither whore some tricks to do. Now she's turned whore, and Bawd, and Hostice too. Stand close deer wits, and shadow me disguise. She cast me down, and by her fallen I'll rise. Husbands that love your honour as your life; Learn now to be revenged, on a false wife. The thing thou wotst on, half a minutes sport. No? No? Hostice, Pray 'helpe me to the money quickly. I must pay't instantly. So, if my newborn plots hold constant life I'll cheat my thieves, but above all, my wife. Thank you, good Widow. Youth, tell the Gentlemen I'm gone to tender the money. Bid them be merry and continue their healths. I'll take my round, when I come again. Farewell Ostice. You cannot tempt me Siren; I am resolute. Thou art a cunning Bitch, and I am proud Of such expected means to my revenge. Hark, how I'll quittance thy abhorred lustest. First, thou shalt be arrested for the money, Whereof I cheated thee: so be restrained From thy old straggling, mewed up Like a haggard; Till the Assize comes, then thou shalt be hanged. I hear thou standest bound over for suspicion Of robbing Gripe. I did the villainy. I'll have't proved thine: so thou shalt hang for me. Husband me no more: That name was canceled when you first played whore. Now garden-pot, you water your sad fears, But I am no loue-foole, won with woman's tears. Oh, thou wouldst melt a rock. My heart's too dead, To sprout at this wet April. Fare you well. My lord, I'll help you. Lo, I am that third Fairy, that pronounce This woman clear, and those two perjured knaves. We three are guilty: let your sentence come. I have deserved, will not despair my doom. Once again off disguise. My lord, thus I prevent this feared disaster My second case pulled off, I am plain Vaster. Thanks to your honesty, not his; yet thus, Some means of satisfaction I have found; I'll pay him back his lost three hundred pound: The Fairy money, which was joust the price Of my redeemed lands. Be gone. Make much of you? I will, I will. Never man made more of his wife, when he sold her to her smock. I'll fell thy flesh too Gipsy. Come, I'm poor. What with me? What do you shoot at? The moneys' good money Sir, if it be not too heavy for you Brave! she's mine already. No, thou hast wrought Too much already. Here, here's thy work. Wilt thou do one thing? Florence. Let Sophisters alone with these distinctions. Our moderators are our swords: the question, That calls us forth, as warlike disputants Beyond decision of the gowne-furr'd peace. Draw then thy argument, and let's talk indeed. We cannot reason soundly, till we bleed. Peace, Dotard. O thou hast slain me: hold thy conquering hand. Heavens, you are too joust pay-masters. Thy sword, With a fate-sign'd direction, hath cut short My hoped Fortune's in a longer breath. But I forgive thee. Fly—stay. I have two Orphans in this hour deprived Of a bade Parent. For their mother—nothing. She has a trade to live on. Oh let my dying breath Beg this one mercy at thy bloodstained hands: Relieve them with now thine, once their own lands. Sager, I know thee poor: here take thy purse. Though I rob these, no poor man shall me curse. Hold, Gentlemen, this is my friend. While thy house was cleanly swept, And thy conscience chastely kept: Neat linen, fire and water ready; And thy purpose good and steady: While thou never sentest the poor Unrewarded from thy door. While thou wakendst with the chimes, Because thou wentest to bed betimes, We brought thee wealth; but it in vain: For now we'll fetch it back again. Come deliver the keys of your trunks. Yonder's mine Hostice. Now the water's up, that we cannot get over to the Abbey, it is our securest course to come mit the money to her custody. If any search should be made, and these tokens found about us, we are all dead men: there's not so much mercy in Gripe, as in the Plague. Sweet, I would go. But here's a charming beauty, that says no. Will you walk off a little—to the meadow? I have a tiny business with you, widow? Heigh? handy, dandy, fast and lose, brave devil. I'll conjure you for this. Come, will you love me? Or no matter for your love, will you lie with me? Do, or lie alone i'th meadow here. I shall leave your temp ting eyes for the Crows to pick out. Whistle not so loud, lest I cut your pipe, Come on. Humh! the pox, say you? well, you'll not reveal me. The pox? Oh I have known London too long to be afraid of the pox. Come, will you unlock? I have the golden key. If not, I'll to Virginia, Like some cheating Bankrout, and leave my Creditor ith' suds. You know the Jail. Would you never been hired to yawle for the whole prison? and whule to the passengers? No? you will repent. Politic whore! What do you ken me now? Prodigious villains! will they thus cast away and innocent woman? Yet I most vile of all, that thus stand by, And for my fault behold my poor wife die. With patience. Benjamin Gripe, I here accuse you for murdering Richard Vaster. My lord, I found that Vaster dying, buried him, Saw him receiving death by this men sword. Theft's a great sin, but murder most abhorred. Most, most deer friend. My love to you does beyond bounds extend. My Lord, first to this honourable Bench, I'here present the Kings most gtacious pardon For us three here: heaven no less pardon us. Now to my wife: see wench, I am new born; Renc'd from the plague of a suspected horn. Black Iaundeys of the mind, thou feigned spirit, That haunts men's quiet thoughts with troubling shades. Pernicious Jealousy, that Like needless Physic Diuertest health to voluntary sickness, I brush thee off Like dust. See, I am now New married to my love and to my life. Never could man boast a more constant wife. Dear Benjamin, now Son, what I have left Of all my shipwrecked fortbnes, shall be thine. He hath forgiven you, only this he begs; That to the scattered pieces of himself, Left to survive his Misery's uncomplete, His Widow and his Orphans, you would yield Some pity for your own, heavens, and his sake: And teach that hand, (from which he hoped some good) To succour theirs, that took away his blood. He bade me tell you, now all means were gone, To expiate that sin, save only one: To hold those up, that on the world's sea swim: Since he had them undone, you undone him. That you would be to them, as he should be: This he bequeathed you as a Legacy.