LOVE-ALL

Is not this Anteros? Enter Love all. 'Tis he, his phrase Betrays him. But— Well Sir Ruffian, I hope to see this Blasphemy of yours against that feathered Deity sent home with a shaft in your bosom for interest ere long. Take shell and all. True. For why should I confine my love to one Circle? we see that labo rious creature the Be, which is often set before us for a Copy of industry, not always droaning upon one flower, but as soon as she has sucked the sweetness from one, throws her little airy body upon a second, and so to a third, till at last she comes home with her thighs laden with that pretty spoil. No, If I do, let me lie when I am dead by that Cynic Philosopher with a staff in my hand, to fright the beast sand fowls from my unburied carcase. — But is there any news I pray thee grown Up in this country since I went to court? What? he is not dead I hope? Ther's nothing man within me. After such vows? Such protestations? but the Gods make Loueall No creature, if he does not suffer for't, Buy this disloyalty of his, at a deer rate. But stay Anteros. I have discovered (unless mine eyes deceive me) A stranger thing then is all this you told me, What's that in your hat? 'tis not a Valentine I hope? But art thou turned a Lover? hast thou God A Mistress? thou a Mistress? let me see That I may worship that great name, that has Begotten this miracle in thee. By all the lips of honour I must see't. For a far lesser sum sweet Sir nay come I must and will. What's here? Rex et regina magnae Britanniae? what's this? what's this? What are the King and Queen thy Valentines? would, would, he. Who can refrain? would, would, he. Thou art mad, stark mad, A citizen of Bedlam. Come back ith' name of goodness — Anteros — What is my little boy grown sullen now, And will not eat its dinner? This day my Anteros I will dedicate To thee and laughter, to morrow I will study Some deep revenge for my abused sister Upon that villain; but no more, thy hand. Shall we be merry and laugh each man his rubber? Well, shall I make a motion then? stay you He offers to go out hastily. But here a little. I will return immediately. Well, if I must I will. Last night it was my chance to overtake Upon the way a brace of fine tame fools, Which I have brought along with me, these now He offers to go, Anteros pulls him back. Will I go fetch unto thee. We shall lose time. The first of them is a fine spiced gallant, One that has been some three years in codling At the Inns o'th' Court, and (as he tells me) intends To lie, and soak a while to make him relish In the rosewater of a Knighthood, strewed Over with the Sugar of a yearly rend Of some nine hundred — after the old men death. And all this cookery is to please the palate Of some nice Minion, who to make her weight Drags peradventure some three thousand after her. The thing (to do it right) beside the managing of it's rapier, and a pretty competency of play parcels, can salute you, and take it's leave of you in French, but so miserably harsh that any one may conclude, he never travailed for his language further then Littleton — He — His kinsman. What he is now he knows not himself, else he would have told me, but he has been a Lawyer; Clerk in's days, his prattle is altogether about the complexions, and he will read you a lecture of simple baw dery for some two hours in your ear if you'll suffer him, and of ter all this, he feels you by the nose, and cries Mark the end on it. You will, are you so confident? No place Better then this, but speak the hour. To bring your champions with you. My first work now is for to see my Uncle, And as I hear my melancholy sister. That done through the back door that leads to the Stables (where they are taking order for their horses.) I will go visit my two creatures and Prepare them for the Combat. But are these your Champions? They'le be here immediately. Sweet Sir, my only wish is that my Fortune's were but of growth, to show in what degree of honour, I hold any whom you shall vouchsafe to call a friend. —I thirst to know you Sir. Sir may I know your name? A Mongrel Sir? Ashamed of your name, say you? You come of a very great house, I'll assure you; I know many of the Mungrels that are able to dispend, yearly, more then I am willing to speak of at this ime; and which keep their Sons as Gentlemanlike, at the Inns o'th Court with h as good clothes on their backs, as rich belts, and as fair gilded rapiers, as the best Gentlemen o'the Land Sir— Oh well said, come lift up bravely now. Anteros, a continued pie of friends of mine. There's one of his parcels gone, he has but three more in all the world. How think you Sir? Oh admirably, take heed what you do, he's a great Traveler I tell you. Out you Nullifidian, don't let the Gentleman swear, tak't upon his bore word. Let's take they off. [They partly, Lou. walks with Wis. Ant. with Must.] That province Is yours; as for mine own, you see I have Provided for them, and conveniently: Yet if you will embrace my counsel, write After the copy I have set you, do, Behold a pattern, and see (happily) A chest where Stipes in the days of old Ha kept tame Conies, now uninhabited. It's nothing, look you here, See you that fine spruce new erected hogsty On the other side of Stipes house? A man tied to a tree? What are you fellow, speak? So angry pray thee? how came thy hands in mortgage? Shall I redeem them? Sure I have seen that face. Is it he or not, would? Anteros. But heaven and earth man! how Comes this to pass? What has begotten this change? But pray thee Anteros. — It's not a friendly partly. It's done. What has he now in hand? How now? A Snake, a Snake; he's young again, would, would, he. What? Pinks and Roses too? Why so, he plucks June out of is pocket. And Garters too? What? and a band? so, so; The vail of Tempe's not so fresh, the picture, The very picture of the Spring, when the earth Lays by her freeze-coate, and turns Forester. Thou art not mad I hope? Which way this plot will look I know not— there— come let me see your hand's Since you will needs. What will you have me do beside? come on, Your legs too if you will. What should this mean? Would, would, he. would, would, he. What will become of this? I'll furnish thee. There is a notable witty bedlam begging At our back gate joust now. I'll fetch him to thee. Why whither in such hast? In troth I thank you heartily, I hope you'll first deliver back again My Sword and Hat. I will take thee my little Cupid-whipper. You must not go. The Belgic shore? What wilt thou do there man? You'll turn a coxcomb. What wilt thou say now Anteros if I set thee As free from this same marriage, as the child Which ten months since was but and Embryo? I can do it, fear it not. What wilt thou give me if I do effect it? But stay. Would, would, he. And so I shall have all my drink drunk up, Thank you for that. Here's a brave promiser! Why this out does the Court; but dost thou hear? How wilt thou do all this? Well then be silent. — Placenta the Shepherds wife Soon as she herd a marriage was in motion Betwixt my Kinswoman and your self, came running To me in hast, and cried what do they mean? It is not fit, nor can it be (unless That they will violate the laws of Nature) That Anteros should have this Gentlewoman; I ask the cause, the Midwife answereth Because she is his Sister. And is it possible that this is true? True. Yet? Then hear; it seem's that Dorothaea My Uncle's wife, some seventeen years ago Supposing she had been with child, provided Such necessaries for her, as a woman That is in her estate might stand in need of; 'Twas famed about the Country: but at last She found her self deluded by a tympany, But fearing lest she should prove the table talk o'th country, Takes counsel with Placenta for to feign A birth, and to that end employeth her (Being a Midwife ) to procure for money, The Child of some poor woman new delivered. At the same time it fortuned Anteros That your mother cried for Innos help, Which she obtained, and was delivered Of this your Sister, whom when she perceived To be deformed, and distorted; at length She was overcome by the Midwife for to partly With her new purchased Infant, was agreed, And the birth straight given out to be abortive, And which is more, believed, and for to colour The matter over the better, they did bury And empty coffin. In the mean time your sister Was secretly conveyed unto my Aunt, Who presently did feign to be in travail, And was delivered in conceit of Her, Who but a while ago was called your wife. Was not long after, but the brace of mother's Did travail both together to the dead, And left my uncle a supposed daughter. You have the history. I herd as much within. Item: — a pox upon't, here's bawdry, I'll rake no deeper in this puddle. — so. Nay but Anteros. You must indent then with them, for to keep you Some hounds or cocks, and get a handsome wife To entertain you. What shall you do? why kiss her man. Nay prithee go. I thought not of them. Wee'd best Barrel them up and send them for new England. No; They are not capable of Salt, man; rather Let's get some broken trumpet, or old drum, And show them to the people from some strange Beasts out of Afric How? Would, would, would, he,— Oh my sides— To him, ferret him, ferret him. Your mocked Sir, he wears boots. Agreed, Master Empty, take some pity on the Schol ler, let him breath a little, wilt please you walk? Lovel & Nod walk. Ant. and Ham. walk. But how now Anteros? what business is this? Quickly then enter here, I'll shut you in until the search be passed: nay will you in? who's there? immediately, good Master William. He shuts Nod. into one of them. Gods me, what will you do? were not you in the company with him? that makes you accessary; have you read so much law, and know not that? nay, will you in?— Would, would, he. What sayest thou now my Anteros? And do you see it may be pinned without? Hist, easily, softly, I'll fill up the time They enter. With some discourse, till you have framed your countenance. It is a strange dark melancholy this That thus torments my Sister, I have been And hour with her, and in all that time Cannot persuade her troubled soul to form The least air she breathes, into articulate language. But stay what have we here? And to perform joust nothing. But see the wooers are discarded quite My uncle beats them out of doors. What have we here? Item, to send forth tickets To all the Brothers that do inhabit Within this Shire, to give them intimation, That M. Mother-tongue stands the first of June. Follow me Witch, devil, strumpet, prostitute. What have ye done with my dead sisters body? But does she live then? But is this Cleopes? More then all to you, Good Cleopes. — But dost thou live, my sister? Why wast thou dead but now? What make you there? Come on, you are a fine fellow, to go and set them together by the ears thus, are you not? Finely do you call it? why your Scholar ha so mauled Mr. Noddle with the key of his study door, made such a breach in his Pericranium, that without question all his French ends have taken their flight, through that passage; as for my continued sen Mr. William, he's crept into and old hold, behind the hang ings, that in the days of old, has been the Asylum, for decay ed boots, and shoes out of date, and there lies he, all alone, very melancholy. As Gentlemen use now adays, in swearing; when he saw that he could not draw his sword, he ran up and down the room, and measured out the time of the combat with oaths. Would thou hadst: for I have e'ene taken a surfer of them. I pray thee let's invent some way, or other For to be rid of them, canst thou not think? Think, think, man — think— which I'll effect, unless All that is called Fortune, does forsake me. Seest thou that brace of Cabins, on each side My Uncle's house? Not a word. Oh Anteros, we are undone, undone; I'll have this day wear black ith' Calendar, That after ages may beware of it, It is so full of Omen — Nay Sir, this is neither time nor place for such idle wishes, here ha been a Surgeon already, that lives hard by, and his sentence is, that he cannot live above two hours, he swooned six times since you left him, it seems you bruised him so with falling on him, with the hilt of your rapier, that he bleeds inward — I know not what to say to it— I was bewitched I think, nay think, think, think what course you will take, you must be sudden, the officers are sent for to apprehend you. Nay there's no stirring that way, you'll meet them in the teeth. They'll meet you that way too. Well, will you trust your Fortune's into my hands? Nay Sir, now I must chide you, will you accuse all, for the default of some particulars? by the same reason, I'll con clude, that all ye Scholars, are coxcombs, because I see one that is so. No more Scholar, you have met with him sufficient lie, why Anteros, when? and here's a brave Pylades too, that would not see his Orestes oppressed by multitude. [He claps him on the back.] You will not quarrel with your friends Sir, will you? Prithee Scholar, tail off Mr. Mongrel a little, he'll never leave now he has drawn blood once. Why Anteros; pray thee relieve me. Angry old Bully? he had a hard heart, that would be angry with thee. Now, now, how greedily the Scholar sucks it in. He never emptied a buttery pot after a match at football, with greater appetite, then he devours this gullery. Would, would, he. Why so, wee'r now at Liberty, farewell. My sisters wrongs, and sorrows call for me, And shall be answered. Come on brave Tom, come on brave Tom, Remem ber your instructions Tom. Anteros, I'll leave you to your business. I'll in and fetch and other hat. Come bram e Tom. 'Bed, Let brave Tom alone. [Ex. Lou. & Bedlam.] But whats become of all your promises? They are, no more, but see they come, I'll slip Aside lest I be seen. Now the good Gods! where shall I find these most unfortunate Gentlemen? Oh they be here, — who's there? Pray heavens it be not the Constables officious industry: how will you do Sir? You have slain the Scholar. Why, what do you take me to be Sir? have I this for my love, and care of your safety? as you sowed, so reap for me; I hope you will believe your own senses, I think I see the officers coming. Meaning you Sir? pardon me it's mere injustice in you, I'll assure you Sir, this whole realm, yields not better quam lified Gentlemen, and more gently parted, then many of them are, and to whom, the common weal is more indebted. Faith Sir, this would have made a fair show in a Country Alehouse. The news? Why so? I pray thee stay, You'll in I hope. The very same I take it. pray thee Anteros. pray thee be quiet. O no, you want the pawles, and the hums, And the grave thumb under the girdle too. How now? Whats here? How? the dead body of a gentlewoman? Would? what is this I see? Oh traitorous eyes: Can I believe you any more? my sister? Constantina? It's she. Oh partial heavens! but yet it is not, It's not long since I left my sister safe With in her chamber, and in another habit — By all the powers it's she — I do profane The god's; it is not she, it is not. — once more. The twins of Leda were not half so Like. I'll be resolved immediately. Nay will you hear with patience? Or else— pray thee convey away the Bedlam any whither, carry him into your house again and shoot him out at the back door. Nay do not hold me. A whoreson Inkebottle, and two skins of parchment, He draws his Sword. Dares he hope for my sister, and a living? You slave, are Parsonages in this age so cheap?