MICHAELMAS Terme.
AS IT HATH BEEN SVNdry times acted by the Children of Paules.
AT LONDON, ❧ Printed for A. I. and are to be sould at the signe of the white horse in Paules Churchyard. An. 1607.
Inductio.
BOye?
Here sit!
Oh like hops and harlots sir!
Why do'st thou couple them?
Oh very aptlye, for as the hop well boiled will make a man not stand vppon his leggs: so the harlot in time will leaue a man no leggs to stand vppon!
- 1. Thou father of the Termes haile to thee.
- 2. May much contention still keepe with thee.
- 3. Many new fooles come vp and fee thee.
- 2. Let e'm paye deere ynough that see thee.
But Gentlemen, to spread my selfe open vnto you, in cheaper Termes I salute you, for ours haue but sixpenny fees all the yeare long, yet wee dispatch you in two howers, without demur; your Suites hang not long here after Candles be lighted: Why we call this play by such a deere and chargeable Title, Michaelmas Tearme? Knowe it consents happilye to our purpose, tho perhaps faintlie to the interpretation of many; for he that expects any great quarrels in Lawe to bee handled here, will be fondly deceaued, this onely presents those familiar accidents, which happend in Towne in the circumference of those sixe weekes, whereof Michaelmas Terme is Lord: Sat sapienti, I hope there's no fooles i'th house!
What Master Rerrage?
Master Salewood▪ Exceedingly well met in Towne, comes your Father vp this Terme?
Why he was here three dayes before the Exchequer gapte.
Fye, such an earlie Termer?
Hee's not to bee spoke withall, I dare not aske him [Page] blessing, till the last of Nouember.
And how looks thy little venturing Coosen?
Faith like a Lute that ha's all the stringes broke, no bodie will meddle with her.
Fye, there are Doctors enow in Towne will string her againe, and make her sound as sweete as ere shee did, is shee not married yet?
Sh' as no lucke, some may better steale a horse than others looke on. I haue knowen a virgin of fiue bastardes wedded, faith when all's donne we must bee faine to marrie her into the North I'me affrayd.
But will shee passe so thinke you?
Puh, any thinge that is warme ynough is good ynough for them; so it come in the likenes, tho the Deuill be in't, the'ile venture the fiering.
They're worthy spirits yfaith, heard you the Newes?
Not yet.
Mistris Difficult is falne a widdowe.
Say true, is Master Difficult the Lawyer dead?
Easilie dead sir.
Pray when died hee?
What a question's that? when should a Lawyer dye but in the vacation, hee ha's no leisure to die in the Tearmetime, beside the Noyse there would fetch him againe.
Knew you the nature of his disease.
Faith some say he dyed of an old griefe he had, that the vacation was foureteene weekes long.
And very likely. I knew 'twould kill him at last, t'as troubled him a long time, hee was one of those that would faine haue brought in the heresie of a fift Tearme, often crying with a loud voice, oh why should we loose Bartholmew weeke?
He sauours, stop your Nose, no more of him.
Yong maister Easye, let me salute you sir, when came you?
I haue but Inn'd my horse since master Cockstone.
Master Rerrage?
Good master Salewood, I am proud of your society.
What gentleman might that bee?
Faith sir, I am vildly riuald!
Vildly? by whome.
One Andrewe Lethe crept to a little warmth, and now so proud that he forgets all stormes, one that nere wore apparell, but like ditches 'twas cast before hee had it, now shines bright in rich embroderies, him master Quomodo affects, the daughter him, the mother onely mee, I rest most doubtfull, my side being wookest.
Yet the mothers side being surer than the Fathers, it may proue, men pleade for money best, women for loue.
Slid master Quomodo?
How then, affraid of a woollen draper.
He warn'd mee his house, and I hate hee should see me abroad!
Oh my 2. spirits Shortyard and Falselight, you that haue so enricht me, I haue industrie for you both?
Then doe you please vs best sir.
Wealthy employment.
You make me icth sir.
You Falselight as I haue directed you.
I am nimble.
Goe, make my course commodities, looke, seeke, with subtile art beguile the honest eye, be neere to my trapwindowe, cunning Falselight.
I neuer failde it yet.
Most true?
Where I haue seene what I desire.
A woman?
Puh; a woman, yet beneath her, that which shee often treades on. Yet commands her land, fayre neate Land.
What is the marke you shoote at.
Why the fayrest to cleaue the heire in twayne, I meane his Title to murder his estate, stifle his right in some some detested prison, there are means and waies enow to hooke in Gentry, besides our deadlye enmitye which thus stands they'r busye 'bout our wiues, We 'bout their Lands.
Ah sirrah, doe we stinge'm, this fresh gallant rode newly vp before me!
I beseech his name.
Yong master Easye.
Easye? It may fall right.
I haue enquir'd his haunt, stay, ha, I that, 'tis, thats he, thats he!
Happilie!
Obserue, take surely note of him, hee's fresh and free shift thy selfe speedily into the shape of gallantrye, Ile swell thy purse with angels, keepe foote by foote with him, out-dare his expences, flatter, dice, and brothell to him, giue him a sweete tast of Sensuality, traine him to euery wastfull sin, that he may quickly neede health, but especially money, rauish him with a dame or twoo, bee his bawde for once, Ile bee thine for euer, drinke drunke with him, creepe into bed to him, kisse him and vndoo him, my sweete spirit.
Let your care dwell in me soone shall it shine, What subtiltie is in man, that is not mine.
O my most cherefull spirit, goe, dispatch, Gentrye is the cheife fish we Tradesmen catch.
What's here?
Oh, they are bils for Chambers.
Against Saint Andrewes, at a Painters house, ther's a faire chamber ready furnisht to bee let, the house not onely endewed with a newe fashion forepart, but which is more conuenient for a Gentleman, with a very prouident backe-doore.
Why here's vertue still; I like that thing that's necessary, as well as pleasant.
What newes in yonder paper.
Ha? seeke you for newes, there's for you!
Whose tis? in the name of the blacke Angels, Andro Gruill.
No, Andro Lethe!
Lethe?
Has forgot his fathers name, poore Walter Gruill that begot him, fed him, and brought him vp.
Not hither.
No; 'twas from his thoughts, hee brought him vp belowe.
But do's he passe for Lethe.
Mongst strange eyes that no more knowe him, then he knowes himselfe, thats nothing now, for master Andro Lethe, a gentleman of most receiued parts, forgetfulnes, Lust, Impudence, and Falshood, and one especiall Courtly quality; to wit, no wit at all, I am his Riuall for Quomodoes daughter, but hee knowes it not.
Has spyed vs ore his paper.
Oh thats a warning to make our duties ready.
Salute him, hang him.
Puh, wish his health a while, heele be laide shortly, let him gorge Venison for a time, our doctors will bring him to dry mutton; seeme respectiue to make his pride swell like a Toade with dewe.
Master Lethe!
Sweete master Lethe.
Gentlemen your pardon, I remember you not.
Why we supt with you last night sir!
Not yet!
Tast it.
Wast it.
Cast it.
I pray doo so.
The horne.
Easily remembred that you know!
But now vnto my present busines, the Daughter yeildes, and Quomodo consents, onely my mistris Quomodo, her mother without regard runs full against mee, and sticks hard! Is there no law for a woman that will run vpon a man at her owne apperill. Why should not shee consent, knowing my state, my sudaine fortunes, I can command a custerd, and other bakemeats, death of sturgeon, I could keepe house with nothing, what friends haue I? how wellam I beloued, ee'n quite throughout the scullery, not consent? tis ee'n as I haue writ, Ile be hang'd, and shee loue mee not herselfe & wold rather preserue me, as a priuate friend to her own pleasures, than any way aduance her daughter vpon me to beguile herselfe, then how haue I relieued her in that poynt, let me peruse this letter. Good mistris Quomodo, or rather as I hope ere the Terme end, mother Quomodo, since only your consent keeps a loofe off and hinders the copulation of your daughter, what may I thinke, but that it is a meere affection in you, doating vppon some small inferiour vertue of mine, to draw me in vpon your self, if the case stand so, I haue comfort for you: for this you may well assure your selfe, that by the marriage of your daughter I haue the better meanes and opportunity to your selfe, and without the least suspition. This is moouing stuffe, and that workes best with a Citizens wife, but who shall I get to conuey this now: my Page I halent forth, my Pandar I haue imployd about the country, to looke out some third sister, or entice some discontented Gentlewoman from her husband, whōe the laying out of my appetite shall maintaine, nay Ile deale like an honourable Gentleman, Ile bee kinde to women, that which I gather i'th day, Ile put into their purses at night, you shall haue no cause to raile at me, no faith, Ile keepe you in good fashion Ladyes, no meaner men then knights shall ransome home your gownes, and recouer your smocks, Ile not dallye with you—some poore widdow woman would come as a necessary bawd now: and see where fitly comes—my mother! curse off [Page] pouerty do's shee come vp to shame me, to betray my birth, and cast soyle vpon my new Suite, let her passe me, Ile take no notice of her, Scuruye—murrey—Carsey!
By your leaue and like your worship.
Then I must proudly venture it; to me good woman.
I beseech one word with your worship.
Prethe be breife then.
Pray can your worship tell me any tydings of one Andro Gruill, a poore sonne of mine owne.
I know a gallant Gentleman of the name, one master Andro Gruill and well receiude amongst Ladyes.
That not he then!
Hee is no Gentleman that I meane.
Good woman if he be a Gruill, hee's a Gentleman i'th mornings: thats a Gentleman a'th first, you canot tel me
No truely, his father was an honest vpright Tooth-drawer.
O my teeth.
An't please your worship, I haue made a fore iourney out, all this vacant time, to come vp and see my sonne Andro, poore Walter Gruill his Father has layd his life, and left mee a lone woman, I haue not one husband in all the world, therefore my comming vp is for reliefe an't like your worship, hoping that my sonne Andro is in some place about the Kitchin.
Kitchin, puh, fah.
Or a seruingman to some Kinght of worship.
Oh let mee not indure her! Knowe you not mee good woman?
Alasse, an't pleease your worship, I neuer sawe such a glorious suite since the hower I was [...]ersend.
No?
Marry hang him, and like your Worship, I haue knowen the day when no body carde to speake to him!
You must take heed how you speak ill of him now I cantell you; hee's so employde.
Imployde for what?
For his behauiour, wisdome, and other vertues.
His vertues? no tis well knowen, his father was too poore a man to bring him vp to any vertues; hee can scarce write and reade.
Hee's the better regarded for that amongst Courtiers, for thats but a needy qualitie!
If it be so, then heele be great shortly, for he has no good parts about him.
Well good woman, or mother, or what you will.
Alack the day, I know your worship scornes to cal me mother: tis not a thing fit for your worship indeede, such a simple old woman as I am.
In pitty of thy long iourney, there's six-pence British: tend vpon me, I haue busines for you.
Ile waite vpon your Worship.
Two pole off at least.
I am a cleane ould woman, an't like your Worship.
It goes not by cleannes here good woman, if you were fowler, so you were brauer, you might come neerer.
Nay and that be the fashion, I hope I shall
get it shortly, there's no woman so ould but she may learne; and as an old Lady delights in a young Page or monckey, so there are young Courtiers will be hungry vpon an old woman, I warrant you.
Come, leaue your puling and sighing.
Beshrew you now, why did you entice me from my father
Why? to thy better aduancement, wouldst thou a pretty [Page] beautifull—Iuicy squall, liue in a poore thrumbd house i'th cuntry in such seruile—habiliments, and may well passe for a gentlewoman i'th Citie, do's not 5 hundred do so thinkst thou, and with worse faces, oh, now in these latter dayes, the Deuill raygning tis an age for clouen creatures? but why sad now? yet indeed tis the fashion of any Curtizan to be sea-sicke i'th first Voyage, but at next shee proclaimes open wars, like a beaten souldier: why Northampton-shire Lasse do'st dreame of virginity now? remember a loose-bodied Gowne wench, & let it goe, wires, & tyres, bents and bums, felts and falls, thou that shalt deceiue the world, that Gentlewomen indeed shall not be knowen from others; I haue a master to whome I must prefer thee, after the aforesayd decking, Lethe by name, a man of one most admired property, he can both loue thee and for thy better aduancement be thy Pandar himselfe, an exlent sparke of humility.
Well heauen forgiue you, you traine me vp too't.
Why I doe acknowledge it, and I thinke I doe you a pleasure in't.
And if I should proue a harlot now, I should be bound to curse you.
Bound? nay and you proue a harlot, youle be loose ynough.
If I had not a desire to goe like a gentlewoman, you should be hangd, ere you should get me too't I warrant you.
Nay thats certain, nor a 1000. more of you, I know, you are all chast ynough, till one thing or other tempt you [...] deny a Sattin gowne and you dare now?
You knowe I haue no power to doo't, and that makes you so wilfull: for what woman is there such a beast that will deny any thing that is good.
True they will not, most dissembler.
No, and shee beare a braue mind shee will not I warrant you.
Oh as soone as may be, I am in a swone till I bee a gentlewoman, and you know what flesh is mans meate, tell it be drest.
Most certain, no more a woman.
Actus Secundus.
Gentlemen I ha sworne Ile change the roome: dice?
You see I'me patient gentlemen▪
I, the feinds in't, you're patient, you put vp all. Deuils.
Come set me gentlemen!
An Essexgenrleman sir.
An vnfortunate one sir.
Indeed sir.
Hees second to my bosome.
Ile giue you that comfort then sir, you must not want money as long as you are in towne sir.
No sir?
I am bound in my loue to him to see you furnisht, and in that comfort I recouer my salute agen sir.
Then I desire to be more deere vnto you.
I rather study to be deare vnto you—boy, fill some wine.—I knew not what faire impressier I receiud, at first, but I began to affect your societie very speedily.
I count my selfe the happier.
To master Alsup sir, to whose remembrance, I could loue to drinke till I were past remembrance.
I shall keepe Christmasse with him sit, where your health shall likewise vndoubtedly be remembred, and therevpon I pledge you:—I would sue for your name sir.
Your suite shall end in one Tearme sir: my name is Blastfield.
Kind maister Blastfield, your deerer acquaintance.
Nay come, will ye draw in Gentlemen? set me:
Faith I'me scatterd.
Sir, you shall not giue out so meanely of your selfe in my companie for a Million: make Such priuie to your disgrace? you'r a Gentleman of faire fortunes; keep me your reputation; set 'em all, there's crownes fo you.
Sir you binde me infinitely in these courtesies.
You must alwayes haue a care of your Reputation here in Town maister Easie, altho you ride downe with nothing, it skils not.
I'me glad you tell me that yet, then I',e indifferent. Well, come: who throwes? I set all these.
Why, well said.
This same maister Lethe here begins to vndo vs agen.
Ah sir, I came not hither but to win.
And then you'le leaue vs, thats your fashion.
Hee's base that visits not his friends:
It is a thing in vse and euer was, I passe this time.
I wonder you should passe. And that you're sufferd.
The Diuell and his Angels.
Are these they? Welcome deere Angels, where y'are curst nere stay.
Heere's lucke.
Lets search him Gentlemen, I think he wears a smock:
I knew the time, he wore not halfe a shirt, iust like a Pee.
No, how did he for the Rest?
Faith he compounded with a couple of Napkins at Barnet, and so trus'd vp the lower parts.
Twas a prettie shift yfaith.
But maister Lethe ha's forgot that too.
A mischiefe on't to loose all: I could—
Nay but good Ma Easie, do not do your self that tirannie I beseech you, I must not ha you alter your body now for the Purge of a little money: you vndoe me and you doe.
Twas al I brought vp with me, I protest master Blastsield, all my rent till next quarter.
Pox of money, talke not on't I beseech you, what said I to you? Masse I am out of cash my selfe too,—Boy.
Anon sir.
Run presently to master Gum the Mercer, and wil him to tell out two or three hundred pound for mee, or more according as he is furnisht: Ile visit him ith morning say.
It shall be said sir.
Doe you heare boy?
Yes sir.
If master Gum bee not sufficiently readie, call vppon master Profit the Goldsmith.
It shall be done sir.
Boy.
I know I was not sent yet now is the time.
Let them both rest till another occasion: you shall not need to run so farre at this time, take one nier hand go to Ma. Quomodo the Draper, and will him to furnish mee instantly.
Now I goe sir.
It seemes y'are wel knowne master Blastfield, and your credite verie spacious here ith Citie.
Master Easie, let a man beare himselfe portly, the whorsons will creepe to him a'th their bellies, and their wiues a'th their backs: ther's a kinde of bolde grace expected throughout all the parts of a Gentleman: then for your obseruances, a man must not so much as spit but within line and fashion. I tell you what I ha done: somtimes I carrie my water all London ouer, onely to deliuer it proudly at the Standard, and do I passe altogether vnnoted thinke you? No, a man can no sooner peep out his head, but ther's a bow bent at him out of [Page] some watch tower, or other.
So readily sir.
Push, you know a bowe's quickely readie, tho a Gun belong a charging, and will shoote fiue times to his once, Come, you shall beare your selfe Iouially: take heede of setting your lookes to your losses, but rather smile vppon your ill lucke, and inuite 'em to morrow to another breakefast of Bones.
Nay ile forsweare dicing.
What? peace? I am ashamed to heare you: will you ceasse in the first losse, shewe mee one Gentleman that ere did it? Fie vppon't I must vse you to companie I perceyue, youde be spoilde else: forsweare Dice? I would your friends heard you yfaith.
Nay I was but in iest sir.
I hope so, what woulde Gentlemen say of you? there goes a Gull that keepes his money, I would not haue such a report goe on you, for the Worlde as long as you are in my companie. Why man fortune alters in a Minute, I ha knowne those haue recouered so much in an houre, their purses were neuer sicke after.
Oh worse then consumption of the Liuer! consumption of the patrimonie.
How now? marke their humours master Easie.
Forgiue me, my poste [...]itie, yet vngotten.
Thats a penitent Maudlen Dicer.
Few knowe the sweets that the plaine life allowes. Vilde sonne that surfets of his fathers browes.
Laugh at him master Easie.
Ha, ha ha.
Ile bee damn'd and these bee not the bones of some queane that couzened me in her life, and now consumes mee after her death.
Thats the true-wicked-blasphemous, and soul-shuddering Dicer, that will curse you all seruice time, & attribute his ill lucke alwayes to one Drab or other.
Dick, Hell-gill: the hapie Newes.
Peace, what is she?
Yong, beautifull and plump.—a delicate peece of sin.
Of what parentage?
Oh a Gentlewoman of a great house.
Fie, fie.
Shee newly came out of a Barne; yet too good for a Tooth-drawers sonne.
Is she wife or maide?
That which is dantiest, Maide
Ide rather shee'd beene a wife.
A wife sir, why?
Oh Adulterie is a great deale sweeter in my minde.
Diseases gnaw thy bones. I thinke she has deserud to be a wife sir.
That will moue well.
Her firstlinge shall be mine. Swine looke but for the huskes, the meate be thine.
How now Boy?
Maister Quomodo takes your worships greeting exceeding kindely, and in his commendations returnes this answere, that your worship shall not be so apt to receiue it, as hee willing to lend it.
Why, we thanke him yfaith.
Troth, and you ha reason to thanke him sir, t'was a verie friendly answere.
Push, a Gentleman that keeps his daies euen here ith City (as I my selfe watch to doe) shall haue many of those answeres in a tweluemonth, maister Easie.
I promise you sir I admire your carriage, and begin to hold a mor reu'rend respect of you.
Not so I beseech you, I giue my friends leaue to bee inward with me,—will you walke Gentlemen?
Wee're for you. Present her with this Iewell my first token.
There are certaine Country-men without enquiring for maister Rerage, and maister Salewood.
Tennants!
Thou reuiu'st vs Rascall.
When's our next meeting Gentlemen?
To morrow night, This Gentleman, by me inuites you all, Do you not Maister Easie?
Freely sir.
We doe imbrace your loue—a pure fresh Gull
Thus make you men at parting duetifull, And rest beholding to you, tis the slight To be remembred, when you'r out of sight.
A prettie vertue.
Where shall I seeke her now?—oh if she knew The Dangers that attend on womens liues, She would rather lodge vnder a poore thatcht Roofe Then vnder carued seelings: she was my ioy, And all content that I receiu'd from life, My deere and onely Daughter: What saies the Note she left, let mee agen With stayeder greefe peruse it—Father? wonder not at my so suddaine departure, without your leaue or knowledge, thus vnder pardon I excuse it, had you had knowledge of it, I know you would haue sought to restraine it, and hinder me from what I haue long desirde, being now happilye preferr'd to a Gentlemans seruice in London; about Holborne, if you please to send, you may heare well of me—
Were these fit wordes thinke you to be sent to anye Cittizens wise, to enioy the Daughter, and loue the mother too for a neede? I would foulye scorne that man, that should loue me onely for a neede I tell you: and heere the Knaue writes agen, that by the mariage of my Daughter, a has the better meanes and opportunitie to my selfe, hee lies in his Throate like a villaine, he has no opportunitie of mee, for all that, tis for his betters to haue opportunitie of me, and that he shall well knowe—a base proud knaue—a has forgot how he came vp, & brought two of his countrie men to giue their words to my husband for a sute of greene Karsey, a has forgot all this, and how does hee appeare to me, when his white Sattin suttes on, but like a Magot crept out of a Nutshell, a faire bodie and a foule necke, those partes that are couered of him, lookes indifferent well, because we cannot see e'm else for all his clensing, pruning and paring, hee's not worthy a Brokers Daughter, and so tell him.
I will indeede forsooth.
And as for my Childe, I hope sheele bee ruld in Time, though she be folish yet & not be carryed away with a cast of Manchets, a Bottle of wine, or a Custard, and so I pray certifie him.
He doe your errant effectually.
Art thou his Ant—or his—
Alasse—I am a poore drudge of his.
Faith and thou wert his Mother, he would make thee his drudge I warrant him.
Marrie out vppon him, sir reuerence of your mistrisship
Heer's somewhat for thy paines, fare thee well.
Tis more then he gaue me since I came to him.
How now, what prating haue we heare? whispers, dumshowes? why Tomazin, goo too—my shop is not altogether so darke as some of my neighbours, where a man may be made Cuckold at one ende, while hee's measuring with his yard at tother.
Onely commendations sent from Maister Lethe your worshipfull Sonne in law that should be.
Oh, & that you like not▪ he that can make vs rich in custom, strong in friends, happy in suites, bring vs into all the romes a sundaies, from the leads to the seller, pop vs in with Venison til wee cracke agen, & send home the rest in an honorable Napkin—this man you like not forsooth?
But I like him father.
My blessing goe with thy liking
A number of our Cittizens hold our credit by't to come home drunk, and say wee ha beene at Court: then how much more credit i'st to be drunke there indeede?
Tut, thy Mothers a foole—pray whats Maister Rerage whom you pleade for so?
Why, first he is a Gentleman.
I, hee's often first a Gentleman that's last a begger.
My father tels you true, what should I do with a gentleman, I knowe not which way to lye with him.
Tis truetoo—thou knowst beside, we vndoe Gentlemen dayly
That makes so few of e'm marrie with our Daughters, vnles it be one green foote or other▪ next, M. Rerage has land & liuing, tother but his walke i'th street, & his snatching dyet, hee's able to entertaine you in a faire house of his owne, tother in some nooke or corner, or place vs behind the cloath like a company of Puppe [...]s: at his house you shall bee seru'd curiously, sit downe & eate your meate with leasure, there we must be glad to take it standing, & without either salt, cloath, or trencher, and say we are befriended too.
Oh, that giues a Citizen a better appetite then his Garden.
So say I Father, me thinkes it does me most good whē I take it standing, I know not how all womens mindes are:
Faith I thinke they are al of thy minde for that thing, how now Falslight?
I haue descri'd my fellow Short-yard, alias Blastfield, at hand with the Gentleman.
Oh my sweete Short-yard!—Daughter, get you vp to your Virginalls: by your leaue Mistris Quomodo.
Why I hope I may sitith shop, may I not?
That you may, and welcome sweete hony-thye, but not at this season, there's a Buck to be strucke.
Well, since i'me so expresly forbidden, ile watch aboue ith gallerie, but ile see your knauerie.
Be you preparde as I tell you.
You neare feard me:
Oh that sweete, neate, comely, proper, delicate parcell of land, like a fine Gentlewoman ith waste: not so great as prettie, prettie: the Trees in Summer whistling, the siluer waters by the Bankes harmoniouslye gliding, I should haue beene a Scholler, an excellent place for a student: fit for my Sonne that lately commenc'd at Cambridge, whom now I haue plac'd at Innes of Court: Thus wee that sildome get Landes honestly, must leaue our heires to inherit our knauerie: but whist, one turne about my shoppe and meete with e'm.
Is this it sir?
I, let me see, this is it: signe of three Knaues, tis it [...]
Doe you heare sir, what lacke you Gentlemen? see good Kersies or broad cloathes heere, I pray come neere —Maister Blastfield?
I thought you would know me anon.
You'r exceeding welcome to Towne sir, your worship must pardon me, tis alwaies mistie weather in our shops heere: we are a Nation the Sunne [...]ere shines vpon,—Came [Page] this Gentleman with you?
O salute him fairely, hee's a kinde Gentleman, a verie in ward of mine.
Then I crye you mercy sir, y'are especially welcome.
I returne you thankes sir.
But how shall I doe for you now Maister Blastfield?
Why whats the matter?
It is my greatest affliction at this instant, I am not able to furnish you.
How maister Quomodo, pray say not so, sl'ud you vndoe me then.
Vpon my Religion Maister Blastfield, bonds lye forfeete in my hands, I expect the receite of a thousand euerie houre, and cannot yet set eye of a penny.
That's strange me thinkes.
Tis mine owne pittie that plots against me Maister Blastfield, they knowe I haue no conscience to take the for feture, and that makes em so bould with my mercie.
I am sorry for this.
Neuer the lesse, if I might intreate your delay but the age of three daies to expresse my sorrow now, I would double the summe, and supply you with foure or fiue hundred.
Let me see,—three daies.
I good sir, and it may be possible.
Doe you heare Maister Blastfield,
Ha?
You knowe i'ue alreadie enuited all the Gallants to sup with me to night.
That's true yfaith.
T will be my euerlasting shame, if I haue no monye to maintaine my bountie.
I nere thought vpon that—I look't still when that should come from him, wee haue strickly examined our expences, it must not be three daies Maister Quomodo.
No the [...] 'me afraide twill be my griefe sir.
Maister Blastfield, ile tell you what you may doe now.
What good sweete bedfellow.
Send to Master Goome, or Master Profit, the Mercer and Goldsmith.
Masse that was well remembred of thee—I perceyue the Trout will bee a little troublesome ere hee bee catcht—Boy. [...] Boy▪ Here sir.
Runne to Master Goome, or Master Profite, and carrie my present occasion of money to em.
I runne sir.
Me thinks Maister Blastfield, you might easily attaine to the satisfaction of 3. dayes, heer's a Gentleman your friend I dare say will see you sufficiently possest till then.
Not I sir, by no meanes: master Blastfield knowes I'me further in want then himselfe, my hope rests all vpon him, it stands vpon the losse of my credit to Night, if I walke without money.
Why maister Quomodo, what a fruitlesse Motion haue you put forth, you might wel [...] assure your selfe this gentleman had it not if I wanted it: why our purses are brothers we desire but equall fortunes: in a word w'are man and wife, they can but lie together, and so doe we.
As nere as can be yfaith.
And to say truth, tis more for the continuing of this Gentlemans credit in Towne then any incitement from mine owne want only, that I cou [...]t to be so immediatly furnish [...]— you shall heare him confesse as much himselfe.
Tis most certaine master Quomodo.
Oh here comes the Boy now: How now Boy, what sayes maister Goome, or master Profit?
Sir, thei'r both walke foorth this frostie morning to Brainford, to see a Nurse-childe.
A Bastard be it, spite and shame.
Nay, neuer vex your selfe sweet master Blastfield.
Bewitcht I thinke.
Doe you heare sir? you can perswade with him.
A little sir.
Rather then he should be altogither destitute, or be [Page] too much a vexation to himselfe, he shall take vp a commoditie of cloath of me tell him.
Why la! by my troth t' was kindly spoken.
Two hundred pounds worth vpon my Religion say.
So disastrously.
Nay, maister Blastfield, you doe not heare what master Quomodo said since, like an honest true Citizen yfaith: rather then you should grow diseasde vpon't, you shall take vp a commoditie of two hundred pounds [...]orth of cloath.
The mealie Moth consume it, would hee hame turne Pedler now? what should I doe with cloath?
Hee's a verie wilfull Gentleman at this Time yfaith: he knowes as well what to doe with it, as I my selfe Iwis: ther's no Merchant in Town but will be greedy vpon't, and pay downe mony vpo'th naile, the'l dispatch it ouer to Middle-borrow presently, and raise double commoditie by exchange, if not, you know tis Tearme-time, and Michaelmas Tearm too, the Drapers haruest, for footcloaths, riding suts, walking suits, chamber gownes, and hall gownes.
Nay, Ile say that, it comes in as fit a time as can be.
Nay take me with you agen ere you go sir, I offer him no trash [...] him, but present mony, say, where I know some Gentlemen in towne ha beene glad, and are glad at this time, to take vp commodities in Hawks hoods, and browne paper.
Oh horrible, are there such fool [...]s in towne?
I offer him no trash tell him, vpon my Religion you may say,—Now my sweet Shortyand,—now the hungry fish begins to nibble: one end of the worme is in his mouth yfaith.
Nay be perswaded in that master Blastfield tis readie money at, the [...] beside, the [...] and all falls in as pa [...] as can be [...] helpe it.
Well Maister Easie, none but you could haue perswaded me to that, come, would you would dispatch then Maister Quomodo, where's this cloath?
Full and whole within, all of this peece of my Religion Maister Blastfield, feel't, nay feel't and spare not, Gentlemen! your fingers and your iudgement.
Clothe's good.
By my tro [...]h exceeding good cloath, a good wale t'as,
Falslight.
I'me neere out 'athe shop sir.
Go, call in a Porter presently to carrie away the cloath with the Starre marke, whither will you please to haue it carryed Maister Blastfield?
Faith to Maister Beggar-land, hee's the onely Marchant now: or his Brother Maister Stilliard-downe, there's little difference.
Y'aue hapned vpon the money men sir, they and some of their Bretheren I can tell you, will not sticke to offer thirtie thousand pound to be curst still, great monyed men, their stockes lye in the Poores throates: but youle see me sufficiently discharg'd Maister Blastfield ere you depart.
You haue alwaies found me righteous in that.
Falslight.
Sir.
You may bring a Scriuener along with you.
Ile remember that sir.
Haue you sent for a Citizen Maister Blastfield.
No faith not yet—Boy!
What must you doe with a Citizen sir?
A custome they're bound to alate by the default ofeuill debters, no Citizen must lend money without two bee bound in the bond, the second Man enters but for custome sake.
No, and must hee needes be a Citizen?
Byth masse stay, ile learne that Maister Quomodo!
Sir.
Must the second partie that enters into bond onely for fashions sake needs be a Citizen? what say you to this Gentleman [Page] for one?
A lasse sir, you know hee's a meere stranger to me, I neither am sure of his going or abiding, hee may Inne heere to Night, and ride away to morrow, (although I graunt the chiefe burden lyes vpon you) yet wee are bound to make choice of those we know sir.
Why hee's a Gentleman of a prettie liuing sir.
It may be so: yet vnder both your pardons I'de rather haue a Citizen.
I hope you wil not disparadge me so? tis wel known I haue three hundred pound a yeare in Essex,
Well saide, to him thy selfe, take him vp roundly.
And how doubtfullie so ere you account of me, I doe not thinke but I might make my bond passe for a hundred pound'ith Citie.
What alone sir?
Alone sir: who saies so? perhaps ide send downe for a Tennant or too.
I, that's another case sir.
Another case let it be then.
Nay, grow not into anger sir.
Not take me into a Bond, as good as you shall good man Goose-cap.
Wel Maister Blastfield, because I wil not disgrace the Gentleman, i'me content for once, but we must not make a practise on't.
No sir, now you would you shall not.
Cuds me, i'me vndone, hee's gone agen.
The Netts broke.
Hold there deere Gentleman.
Deny me that small curtizie? s'foot a very Iew will not deny it me.
Now must I catch him warily.
A iest indeede, not take me into a Bond quo they.
Maister Easie—Marke my words, if it stood not vppon the eternall losse of thy credit against Supper—
Masse that's true.
The pawning of thy horse for his owne Vittailes.
Right yfaith.
And thy vtter dissolution amongest Gentlemen for e [...]er.
Pox on't.
Quomodo should hang, rot, stinke.
Sweete boy yfaith.
Drop Dam.
Excellent Shortyard.
I forgot all this: what meant I to [...]wagger before I had money in my purse? how do's maister Quomodo? is the Bond readie?
Oh sir.
Come we must be friends, heer's my hand.
Giue it the Scriuener: here he comes.
Good day Maister Quomodo, good morrow Gentlemen.
We must require a little ayde from your pen, good master Dustbox.
What be the Gentlemens names that are bound sir?
Master Iohn Blastfield Esquireith wilde of Kent, and what doe they call your bed f [...]llowes name?
Maister Richard Easie: you may easily hit on't.
Master Richard Easie of Essex Gentleman, both bound to Ephestian Quomodo Citizen and Draper of London: the summe two hundred pound. What Time doe you take master Blastfield for the payment?
I neuer passe my Month you know.
I know it sir. October sixteenth to day, sixteenth of Nouember say.
Is it your custome to returne so soone sir?
I neuer misse you.
I am come for the rest of the same price master Quomodo.
Star-marke, this is it, are all the rest gone?
Thei'r all at Master Stilyard downes by this time.
How the poore raskall's all in a froth?
Push, their ordaind to sweate for Gentlemen,— Porters backes and womens bellies beare vp the world.
Tis true yfaith, they beare men and money, and that's the world.
Ye'aue found it sir.
I'me readie to your hands Gentlemen.
Come Master Easie.
I beseech you sir.
It shall be yours I say.
Nay pray master Blastfield.
I will not yfaith.
What doe you meane sir?
I should shew little bringing vp, to take the way of a stranger.
By my troth you doe your selfe wrong tho maister Blastfield.
Not a whit sir.
But to auoid strife, you shall haue your will of mee for once.
Let it be so I pray.
Now I begin to set one foote vppon the lande, mee thinkes I am felling of Trees alreadie, wee shall haue some Essex Loggs yet to keepe Christmasse with, and that's a comfort.
How like you my Roman hand yfaith?
Exceeding well sir, but that you rest too much vpon your R. and make your ease too little.
Ile mend that presently.
Nay tis done now, past mending: you both deliuer this to maister Quomodo as your deede?
We doe sir.
I thanke you Gentlemen,
Would the Coyne would come away now, we haue deseru'd for't
By your leaue a little Gentlemen.
How now? what's the matter? speake?
As fast as I can sir—All the cloathes come backe a [...] gen.
How?
What's the newes?
The passage to Middle borrow is stopt, and therefore neither Maister Still yard-downe, nor Maister Beggerland, nor any other Merchāt wil deliuer present money vppon't.
Why what hard lucke haue you Gentlemen?
Why Maister Blastfield?
Pish—
You'r so discontented too presently, a man cannot tell how to speake to you?
Why what would you say?
We must make some what on't now sir.
I where? how? the best is it lyes all vppon my necke, Maister Quomodo, can you help me to any money fort? speak
Troth Maister Blastfield, since my selfe is so vnfurnisht, I knowe not the meanes how, there's one 'ith streete a new setter vp, if any lay out money vppon't twill be he.
His name:
Master Idem—but you know we cannot giue but greatly to your losse, because we gaine and liue by't.
Sfoo't will he giue any thing.
I, stand vppon that.
Will he giue any thing?—the Brokers will giue nothing? to no purpose.
Falslight.
Ouer your head sir.
Desire Maister Idem to come presently and looke vppo'th cloath.
I will sir.
What if hee should offer but a hundred pound?
If he want twentie on't lets take it.
Say you so?
Maister Quomodo we wil haue foure or fiue hundred pound for you of his owne within three or foure daies.
Tis true, he saide so indeede.
Is That your wife maister Quomodo?
That's shee, little Tomazin?
Vnder your leaue sir, ile show my selfe a Gentleman.
Doe, and welcome Maister Easie.
I haue commission for what I doe Lady from your Husband.
You may haue a stronger commission for the next, an't please you, that's from my selfe.
You teach me the best law Lady.
Beshrew my blood, a proper, springfull, and a sweet Gentleman.
My Sonne: Sim Quomodo? heere's more worke for you Maister Easie, you must salute him too, for hee's like to be heire of thy land I can tell thee.
Vim, vitam, sprin (que) salutem.
He showes you there he was a Cambridge man sir, but now hee's a Templer, ha's he not good grace to make a Lawyer?
A very good grace to make a Lawyer.
For indeede he ha's no grace at all.
Some gaue me counsell to make him a Diuine.
Fye, fie.
But some of our liuerie thinke it an vnfit thing, that our owne Sonnes should tell vs of our vices: others, to make him a Phisitian, but then being my heyre, i'me afraide hee would make me away: now a Lawyer thei'r all willing too, because tis good for our trade and encreaseth, the number of Cloath-gownes, and indeede tis the fittest for a Citizens Sonne, for our word is, what doe yee lacke? and their word is what doe you giue.
Exceeding propper.
Maister Idem welcome.
I haue seene the cloath sir.
Verie well.
I am but a yong setter vp, the vttermost I dare ventture vppon 'tis three-score pound.
What?
If it be for me, so, I am for it: if not, you haue your doth and I haue my money.
Nay, pray maister Blastfield refuse not his kinde offer.
A bargaine then maister Idem, clap hands—hee's finely cheated: come, let's all to the next Tauerne and see the money paide.
A match.
I follow you Gentlemen, take my Sonne along with you.
Now to my keyes: [...]me Maister Idem, hee must fetch the money, first haue I caught him in a bond for two hundred pound, and my two hundred poundes worth a doath agen for three-score pound: admire me all you studyents at Innes for cousenage.
Incipit Actus Tertius.
You talke of an alteration, heer's the thing it selfe, what base birthe does not rayment make glorious? and what glorious birthes do not [...]agges make infamous? why should not a woman confesse what she is now? fince the finest are but deluding shadowes, begot betweene Tyr [...]omen and Taylors? for instance, beholde their Parents.
Say what you wil, this wire becomes you best, how say you Taylor?
I promise you tis a wire would draw mee from my worke seauen daies a weeke.
Why doe you worke a sundaies Taylor?
Hardest of al a Sundaie, because we are most forbidden
Troth and so doe moste of vs women, the better day the better deede we thinke.
Excellēt exceeding yfaith, a narrow card wyer sets out a cheeke so fat and so full, and if you be rulde by me, you shal weare your hayre still like a Mock-face behinde, tis such an Italian world, many men knowe not Before from Behinde.
How like you the sitting of this gowne now Mistris Comings?
It sits at meruailous good Ease, and comely discretion.
Who would thinke now this fine Sophisticated squal came out of the Bosome of a Barne, and the loynes of a Haytosser.
Out you sawcie pestiferous Pander, I scorne that yfaith.
Excellent, already the true phrase and stile of a strumpet, stay, a little more of the red, and then I take my leaue of your Cheeke for foure & twenty houres—Doe you not thinke it impossible that her owne Father should know her now, if he saw her?
Why I thinke no lesse, how can he knowe me, when I scarce knowe my selfe.
Tis right.
But so well you lay waite for a man for me.
I protest I haue bestowed much labour about it, and in fit Time, good newes I hope.
1 Iu'e found one yet at last, in whose preferment I hope to reape credit.
Is that the fellowe?
1 Lady it is.
Art thou willing to serue me fellow?
So please you, he that ha's not the heart to serue such a Mistris as your beautifull selfe, deserues to be honoured for a foole, or Knighted for a Coward.
There's to many of them alreadie.
Twere sinne then to raise the number.
Well, weele trie both our likings for a month, and then eyther proceede, or let fall the suite.
Be it as you haue spoke, but tis my hope A longer Tearme.
No truely, our Tearme endes once a month, wee should get more then the Lawyers, for they haue but foure Tearmes a yeare, and wee haue twelue, & that makes e'm run so fast to vs in the Vacation.
A mistris of of a choice beauty, amongst such imperfect creatures I ha not seene a perfecter: I should haue reckoned the fortunes of my Daughter amongst the happiest, had she lighted into such a seruice, whereas now I rest doubt full, whome or where she serues.
There's for your bodily aduice Taylor, and theres for your head-counsell, and I discharge you both till to morrowe morning agen.
At which time our neatest Attendance.
I pray haue an especiall care howsoeuer you stand or lye, that nothing fall vppon your haire to batter your wire.
I warrant you for that—which Gowne becomes me best now, the purple Sattin or this?
If my opinion might rule ouer you—
Come gallants, ile bring you to a Beauty shal stricke your eyes into your hearts, what you see you shall desire, yet neuer enioy.
And that's a Villanous torment.
And is she but your vnderput Maister Lethe?
No more of my credit, and a Gentlewoman of a great house, Noble parentage, vnmatchable Education, my plain Pung. I may, grace her with the name of a Curtizan, a Backslider, a Prostitution, or such a Toy, but when all comes [...]o al tis but a plaine Pung, looke you Gentlemen, that's she, beholde her.
Oh my beloued strayer! I consume in thy absence.
La you now—you shall not say ile be proud to you Gentlemen, I giue you leaue to salute her▪ I me afraide of nothing now, but that sheele vtterlie disgrace e'm, turn taile to e'm, and place their kisses behinde her, no by my faith, she deceiues me, by my troth sha's kist am both with her lips: I thanke you for that musick maisters, sli'd they both court her at once, and see if she ha not the wit to stand still and let e'm: I thinke if two men were brewde into one, there is that woman would drink e'm vp both.
A Cockscombe, he a Courtier.
He saies he ha's a place there.
So ha's the Foole a better place then he, and can come where he dare not show his head.
Nay, he are you me Gentlemen.
I protest you were the last man we spoke on, we're a little busie yet, pray stay there a while, weele come to you presently.
This is good yfaith, indure this and be a slaue foreuer, since you neither sauour of good breeding nor bringing vp, Ile slice your hamstrings but ile make you show mannerly—pox on you, leaue courting, I ha not the heart to hurt an Englishman yfaith, or else—
What else?
Prethee lets be merrie, nothing else—heere, fetch some wine.
Let my Seruant goe for't.
Your's, which is he?
This sir, but I scarce like my Mistris now: the loynes can nere be safe where the Flyes be so busie— Witte by experience bought foyles wit at Schoole: Who proues a deeper knaue then a Spent foole, I am gone for your worships wine sir.
Sir, you put vp too much indignitie, bring company to cut your owne throate, the fire is not yet so hot, that you neede two Screenes before it, tis but new kindled yet, if twere risse to a flame, I could not blame you thē to put others before you but alasse all the heate yet is comfortable a cherrisher, not a defacer.
Prethe let e'm alone, theile bee asham'd o [...]t anon I troe, if they haue any grace in 'em.
Ide faine haue him quarrell, fight, and be assuredlye kild, that I might beg his place: for there's nere a one voide yet.
Youle make him mad anon.
Tis to that end.
Yet at last, Maister Quomodo is as firme as his promise.
Did I not tell you still he would.
Let me see, I am seauen hundred pound in bond now to the Rascall.
Nay y'are no lesse Maister Blastfield, looke too't, by my troth, I must needes confesse sir, you ha bene vncommonly kinde to me, since I ha beene in Towne, but maister Alsup shall know on't.
That's my Ambition sir.
I beseech you sir. Stay, this is Lethes haunt, see, we haue catcht him.
Maister Blastfield and Maister Easie, y'are kinde Gentlemen both.
Is that the beauty you famde so?
The same.
Who be those so industrious about her?
Rerage and Salewood: [...]le tell you the vnmannerlyest tricke of e'm, that euer you heard in your life.
Prethee whats that?
I [...]nuyfed e'm hyther to looke vpon her, brought e'm along with me, gaue e'm leaue to salute her in kindnes, what doe they but moste sawcilie fall in loue with her, verye impudently court her for themselues, and like two craftye Atturneyes, finding a hole in my lease, goe about to defeate me of my right.
Ha they so little conscience?
The moste vnciuilst part that you haue seene, I know theile be sorry for't when they haue done, for ther's no man but giues a sigh after his sin of women, I knowe it by my selfe.
You parcell of a rude, sawcie and vnmannerly nation.
One good thing in him, heele tell e'm ont roundly.
Cannot a Gentleman purchase a little fire to thawe his appetite by, but must you that haue beene dayly sindg'd in the flame, be as greedy to beguile him on't? how can it appeare in you but maliciously, and that you goe about to engrosse hell to your selues? he auen forbid, that you should not suffer a stranger to come in, the Deuill himselfe is not so vnmannerly, I doe not thinke but some of them rather will be wise enough to beg▪ Offices there before you, and keepe you out, marry all the spite will bee they cannot sell e'm agen.
Come, are you not to blame—not to giue place?— To vs I meane—
A worse and a worse disgrace.
Nay Gentlemen, you wrong vs both then, stand from me, I protest ile draw my siluer Bodkin vpon you.
Clubs, clubs,—Gentlemen stand vppon your Guard.
A Gentlewoman must swagger a little now and then I perceiue, there would bee no ciuilitie in her Chamber else, though it be my hard fortune to haue my keeper there a coward, the thing that's kept is a Gentlewoman borne.
And to conclude a Coward, infallible of your side, why doe you thinke yfaith I tooke you to be a Coward? doe I thinke youle turne your backe to anye man liuing? youle be whipt first.
And then indeede she turnes her backe to some man liuing.
But that man showes himselfe a Knaue, for he dares not showe his owne face when hee does it, for some of the common Counsell in Henry the eights daies thought it modestie at that time, that one Vizzard should looke vppon another.
Twas honestly considered of e'm yfaith.
How now? what peece of stuffe comes heere?
Now some good newes yet to recouer my Repute, and grace me in this company; Gentlemen, are we friendes among our selues?
Vinited.
Then heere comes Reuish to confirme our Amitie— Wag▪ taile, salute [...]hem all they are friendes.
Then sauing my quarrell to you all.
Toe's all
Now be shrowe your hearts, and you doe not.
To sweete Maister Lethe.
Let it flow this way deere Maister Blastfield, Gentlemen to you all.
This Re [...]ish wine is like the scowring-sticke to a gun, it makes the Barrell cleere: it ha's an excelent vertue, it keepes all the Sinckes in man and womans bodie sweete in Iune and Iuly, and to say truth, if Ditches were not cast once a yeare, and Drabs once a Month, there would be no abiding i'th Cittie.
Gentlemen, ile make you priuie to a letter I sent.
A letter comes well after priuie, it makes amends.
There's one Quomodo▪ a Drapers Daughter in towne whome for her happie portion I wealthily affect.
And not for loue? this makes for me his Riuall, beare witnesse.
The Father does elect me for the man, The Daughter sayes the same.
Are you not well?
Yes all but for the mother, shee's my sicknesse.
Birlady and the Mother is a pestilent, wilfull, troublesome sicknesse I can tell you, if she light vpon you handsomlye.
I finde it so: she for a stranger pleades: Whose name I ha not learn'd.
And ene now he cald me by it.
Now as my letter tolde her, since onely her consent kept aloofe of, what might I thinke on't, but that she meerely dooted vpon me herselfe.
Very assuredly.
This makes still for you.
Did you let it goe so yfaith?
You may beleeue it sir, now what sayes her answere?
I, her answere.
She saies you'r a base proud knaue, and like your worship.
How?
Nay, heare out hir answere, or there's no goodnesse in you.
You ha forgot she saies in what pickle your worship came vp, and brought two of your friendes to giue their wordes for a sute of greene Kersye.
Drudge, peace, or—
Show your selfe a Gentleman, she had the patience to reade your letter which was as bad as this can be, what will she thinke on't, not heare her answere? speake, good his drudge.
And as for hir Daughter, shee hopes sheele be rulde by her in time, and not be carryed away with a cast of Manchets, a bottle of Wine, and a Custard, which once made her Daughter sicke, because you came by it with a bad conscience.
Gentlemen, i'me all in a sweate.
That's verie wholsome for your body, nay you must keepe in your armes.
Then she demaunded of me whether I was your worships Ant or no?
Out, out, out, Gru. Alasse saide I, I am a poore drudge of his.
Faith and thou wert his Mother (quoth she) heed make thee his Dru dge I warrant him—
Marry out vpon him (quoth I) an't like your worship.
Horror, horror, i'me smother'd, let me goe, torment me not.
And you loue me, lets follow him Gentlemen.
Agreed.
I count a hundred pound wel spent to persue a good iest Maister Easie.
By my troth I begin to beare that minde too.
Well saide yfaith, hang money-good iests are worth siluer at all times.
They'r worth golde Maister Blastfield.
Doe you deceiue me so? are you toward marriage yfaith Master Lethe it shall goe hard but ile forbid the Banes, ile send a messēger into your bones, another into your pursse but ile doo't.
Boy.
Anon sir.
Where left you Maister Blastfield your maister, say you?
An houre since I left him in Paules sir—but youle not finde him the same man agen next time you meete him.
Methinks I haue noe beeing without his companie tis so full of kindenes and delight, I holde him to be the onely Companyon in earth.
I, as Companions goe now adaies that helpe to spend a mans money.
So full of nimble wit, various discourse, praegnant apprehension, and vncommon entertainment, hee might keepe Company with any Lord for his grace.
I, with any Lord that were past it.
And such a good free hearted honest, affable kinde of [Page] Gentleman: Come Boy a heauinesse will possesse me till I see him.
But youle finde your selfe heauyer then, by a seauen hundred pound weight,—Alasse poore Birds that cannot keepe the sweete Countrie, where they slye at pleasure, but must needes come to London to haue their wings clipt, and are faine to goe hopping home agen.
So, No man is so impudent to denye that— Spirits can change their shapes, and soonest of all into Serjeants: because they are Coosen Germans to spirits, for there's but two kinde of arrests till Doomes-day, the Deuill for the soule, the Serjeant for the body, but afterward the deuill arrests bodye and soule Serjeant & all, if they be knaues still, and deserue it▪ now my yeoman [...]aslight.
I Attend you good Serjant Shortyard.
No more maister Blastfield now—poore Easie hardly be set.
But how if he should goe to prison, weere in a madde state then, being not Serjeants.
Neuer let [...] come neere thy belee [...]e that heele take prison, or stand out in lawe, knowing the debt to be due, but still expect the presence of Maister Blastfield, kinde M. Blastfield, worshipfull M Blastfield—and at the last—
Maister Shortyard, maister Falslight.
The Boy: a warning-piece,—see where he comes.
Is not in paules.
He is not farre off sure sir.
When was his hovre sayst thou?
Two sir.
Why two ha's strucke.
No sir, they are now a striking.
Maister Richard Easie of Essex we arrest you.
Ha?
Alasse a Surgeon, hee's hurt ith shoulder.
Deliuer your weapons quietly sir.
Why what's the matter?
Y'are arrested at the suite of M. Quomodo.
Maister Quomodo?
How strange you make it, you'r a landed Gentleman sir, I knew tis but a trisse, a bond of seauen hundred pound.
La, I knowe you had mistooke, you should arrest One Maister Blastfield, tis his bond, his debt.
Is not your name there?
True, for fashions sake.
Why and tis for fashions sake that we arrest you.
Nay, & it be no more, I yeelde to that: I know Maister Blastfield wil see me take no iniurie as long as i'me in towne, for Maister Alsups sake.
Whose that Sir?
An honest Gentleman in Essex.
Oh, In Essex! I thought you had beene in London, where now your busines lyes, honestye from Essex will be a great while a comming sir, you should looke out an honest paire of Cittizens.
Alasse sir, I knowe not where to finde e'm.
No, there's enow in Towne.
I know not one by my troth, I am a meere stranger for these partes, Maister Quomodo is all, and the honestest that I knowe.
To him then lets set forward:—Yeoman Spiderman, castan eye about for Maister Blastfield.
Boy—Alasse the poore boy was frighted away at first.
Can you blame him sir—we that dayly fray away Knight's, may fright away Boyes I hope.
Ha? haue they him sayst thou?
As sure as—
Here they come with him sir.
Grant mee patience in my ioyes, that being so great I run not mad with 'em.
Blesse maister Quomodo.
How now Serjeants? who ha you brought me here, master Easie?
Why la you now Serjeants, did I not tell you you mistooke?
Did you not heare me say. I had rather ha had master Blastfield, the more sufficient man a great deale?
Verie true sir,—but this Gentleman lighting into our hands first—
Why did you so sir?
Wee thought good to make vse of that oportunitie, and hold him fast.
You did well in that I must needes say, for your owne securities, but twas not my minde master Easie to haue you first, you must needes thinke so.
I dare sweare that master Quomodo.
But since you are come to me, I haue no reason to refuse you, I should show little manners in that sir.
But I hope you spake not in that sence sir, to impose [Page] the bond vpon mee.
By my troth that's my meaning sir, you shall finde mee an honest man, you see I meane what I say, is not the day past, the money vntendred, you'd ha me liue vprightly maister Easie?
Why sir, you know maister Blastfield is the man.
Why sir, I know master Blastfield is the man, but is he any more then one man? two entred into bond to mee, or I'me fowly coozn'd.
You know my entrance was but for fashion sake.
Why, ile a gree to you, you'l grant tis the fashion likewise when the Bond's due to haue the money paid agen.
So we told him sir, and that it lay in your worships curtezie to arrest which you please.
Marie do's it sir, these fellowes know the law,— beside, you offred yourself into Bond to me you know, when I had no stomake to you, now beshrew your heart for your labour, I might ha had a good substantiall Citizen, that would ha paid the summe roundly, altho I think you sufficient enough for seauen hundred pound, beside the forfeyture, I would be loath to disgrace you so much before Serjeants.
If you would hathe pacience sir, I doe not thinke but master Blasefield is at Carriers to receiue the money.
He wil proue the honester man then, & you the better discharged, I wonder he should breake with me, t'was neuer his practise, you must not bee angry with mee now, tho you were somewhat hot when you entred into Bond, you may easily go in angerly, but you cannot come out so.
No, the Diuels in't for that.
Do you heere sir, a my troth we pittie you, ha you any store of Crownes about you?
Faith a poore store, yet they shall be at their seruice that will striue to doe me good,—we were both drunke last night, and [...]eer thought vpon the bond.
I must tell you this, you haue fell in to the hands of a most mercilesse deuourer, the verie gul athe citie, should you offer him mony, Goods or lands now, hee'd rather haue your bodie in prison, hee's a such a nature. Eas. Prison w'are vndon then.
Hee's a such a nature, looke?—Let him owe any man a spite [...] what's his course: he will lend him mony to day, a purpose to rest him tomorrow.
Defend me?
Has at least sixteene at this instant proceeded in both the Counters: some batchler, some masters, some doctors of captiuitie of 20. years standing and he desires nothing more then imprisonment.
Would Ma. Blastfield would come away.
I, then things would not bee as they are—what will you say to vs if wee procure you two substantiall subsidie Cittizens to baile you spite on's heart, and set you at libertie to finde out maister Blastfield.
Serjeant! here, take all, ile be deare to you, doe but performe it.
Much.
Inough sweet Serjeant, I hope I vnderstand thee.
I loue to preuent the malice of such a rascall, perhaps you might find maister Blastfield to night.
Why, we lie together man, there's the iest on't.
Fie.—and youle seeke to secure your baile, because they will be two Cittizens of good account, you must doe that for your credit sake.
Ile be bound to saue them harmelesse.
A pox on him, you cut his throte then,—no words.
What's it you require me maister Quomodo?
You know that before this time I hope sir, present money, or present imprisonment.
I told you so.
We nere had money of you.
You had commodities, an't please you
Well, may I not craue so much libertie vpō my word, to seeke out maister Blastfield?
Yes, and you would not laugh at me: wee are sometimes Gulls to Gentlemen▪ I thanke 'em; but Gentlemen are neuer Gulls to vs, I commend 'em.
Vnder your leaue master Quomodo, the Gentleman craues the furtherance of an houre, and it sorts well with our [Page] occasion at this time, hauing a little vrgent busines at Guildhall, at which minute weele returne, and see what agreement is made.
Nay take him along with you Serjeant.
I'me vndone then.
Hee's your prisoner; and being safe in your house at your owne disposing, you cannot denie him such a request: beside, he hath a little faith in Ma. Blastfields comming sir.
Let me not be too long delaid I charge you.
Not an houre yfaith sir.
O maister Easie, of all men liuing I neuer dream▪ you would ha done me this iniurie: make me would my credite, faile in my commodities, ring my state into suspition: for the breaking of your day to me, has broken my day to others.
You tell me of that still, which is no fault of mine master Quomodo.
Oh whats a man but his honestie master Easie, and thats a fault amongst most of vs all,—Marke but this note, Ile giue you good counsell now,—as often as you giue your name to a bond, you must think you christen a child, and take the charge on't too: for as the one, the bigger it growes the more cost it requires: so the other the longer it lies, the more charges it puts you too, onely heer's the difference a childe must bee broke, and a bond must not, the more you breake children, the more you keep 'em vnder: but the more you breake bondes, the more theyle leape in your face, and therefore, to conclude, I would neuer vndertake to bee Gossip to that bond which I would not see well brought vp.
Say you so sir?—Ile thinke vpon your counsaile hereafter for't.
Ah foole, thou shouldest neere ha tasted such witte but that I know tis too late.
The more I grieue:
A good medicine for a short memorie:—but since, [Page] you haue entred so farre, whose children are desperate depts I pray?
Faith they are like the of-springs of stolne lust, put to the hospital, their fathers are not to be found, they are either too far abroad, or too close within, and thus for your memories sake.
But all that I beget heereafter [...]le so one disinherit Maister Quomodo.
In the meane time heeres a shrewd knaue will disinherit you.
Well, to put you out of all doubt Maister Quomodo, ile not trust to your curtezie, I ha sent for bayle.
How? y'aue co [...]z [...]ed me there y [...]aith.
Since the worst comes to the worst, I haue those friends 'ith Cittie, I hope that will not suffer me to lye for seauen hundred pound.
And you tolde me you had no friendes heere at all, how should a man trust you now?
That was but to trie your Curtesie M. Quomodo.
How vncōscionably he gulls himself—they must be wealthye subsidie-men sir, at least fortye pound 'ith Kings Bookes I can tell you, that doe such a feate for you.
Heere they come what so ere they are.
Berlady Aldermans Deputies, I am verie sorrye for you sir, I cannot refuse such men.
Are you the Gentleman in distresse?
None more then my selfe sir.
Hee speakes truer then he thinkes, for if he knew, The hearts that owe those faces—a darke shop's good for somewhat.
That was all sir.
And that's enough, for by that meanes' you haue made your selfe [...]able to the Bond, as well as that Basefield
Blastfield sir.
Oh [...] [...]ou mercie tis Blastfield indeede.
But vnder both your worships fauours I know where to finde him presently.
That's all your refuge.
Newes, good newes Master Easie.
What boy?
Maister Blastfield [...]y maister ha [...] receiued a tho [...] pound, and will be at his lodging at supper.
Happy [...] newes, heare you that Maister Quomodo?
Tis enough for you to heare that, y'are the fortunate man sir.
Not now I beseech your good worships.
Gentleman, what's your to [...]her name?
Easie.
O Maister Easie—I would we could rather pleasure you otherwise Maister Easie, you should soone perceiue it, ile speake a proud word we haue pittied more Gentlemen in distresse, then any two Cittizens within the freedome— but to be baile to sea [...]en hundred pound action, is a matter of shroud weight.
Ile be bound to secure you.
Tut, what's your bond sir?
Bodye, goods, and Lands, immediately before Master Quomodo.
Shall we venture once agen, that haue beene so often vndone by Gentlemen?
I haue no great stomacke too't, it will appeare in vs more pittie then wisdome.
Why should you say so sir?
I like the Gentlemans face well, hee doe's not looke as if he would deceiue vs.
O not I sir.
Come weele make a desperate voyage once agen, [Page] weele trye his honestie, and take his single bond, of body Goods and Lands.
I dearely thanke you sir.
Maister Quomodo?
Your worships.
We haue tooke a Course to set your prisoner free.
Your worships are good baile you content me.
Come then, and be a witnesse to a Re [...]ullisance.
With all my heart sir.
Maister Easie, you must haue an especiall care now to find out that Blastfield.
I shall haue him at my lodging sir.
The [...] will [...] you selse, Maister Quomodo will come vpon vt, and [...] you.
I know that sir.
Well since I see you haue such a good minde to bee honest [...]e lea [...]e some greater [...] sweate with you to finde him my selfe.
H [...]are then my mis [...]rie ends [...] A strangers kindenesse oft exceedes a friends.
Now the letters made vp and all, it wants but the print of a s [...]ale, and away it goes to Maister Quomodo: Andrew Le [...]he is well whipt in't, his name stands in a white sheete heere, and do [...]s pennance for him.
You haue shame enough against him, if that be good.
First as a contempt of that reuerend Ceremony, hee has in hand, to wit, marriage.
Why doe you say to wit marriage, when you knowe theres none will marrie that's wise.
Had it not more neede then, to haue wit to put too't if it be growne to a [...]olly?
Y' [...]ue [...]un, ile giue't you.
Tis no thankes now,—but as I was saying: as a soule contempt to that sacred ceremony, hee moste audaciouslye keepes a Drab in towne, and to be free from the interruption of blew Beadles, and other bawdy Officers, hee most politickly lodges her in a Constables house.
That's a prettie point yfaith.
And so the wa [...]ch that should fe [...]ch her out▪ are her chiefest guard to keepeher in.
It must needes be for looke how the Constable playes his Conscience, the watch-men will followe the suite.
Why well then.
All night from me hee's hurt, hee's made away.
Where shall we seeke him now? you leade me fayre [...]aunt's sir.
Pray keepe a little patience sir, I shall finde him at last you shall see.
A Cittizen of my e [...]se and substance to walke so long a foote.
You should ha had my horse but that he ha's eaten out his head sir.
How would you had me hold him by the tayle sir then?
Manners forbid, tis no part of my meaning sir,—oh heere's Maister Rerage, and Maister Salewood, now we shall heare of him presently:—Gntlemen both.
Maister Easie, how fare you sir?
Verye well in health, did you see Maister Blastfield this morning?
I was about to moue it to you.
We were all three in a minde then.
I ha not set eye on him these two daies.
I wonder he keepes so long from vs yfaith.
I began to be sicke.
Why, what's the matter?
Nothing in troth, but a great desire I had to haue seene him.
I wōder you shuld misse on't lately, you'r his bedfelow
I lay alone to night yfaith,—I doe not know how, O here comes master Lethe, he can dispatch me: Master Lethe!
What's your name sir?—O crie you mercie master Easie.
When parted you from maister Blastfield sir?
Blastfield's an Asse, I haue sought him these two dayes to beate him.
Your selfe all alone sir?
I, and three more.—
I am glad, I am where I am then, I perceiue twas time of all handes.
Content yfaith, let's trace him.
What? haue you found him yet? neither? what's to be done now? ile venter my bodie no further for any Gentlemans pleasure, I know not how soone I may be cald vppon, and now to ouer-heate my selfe.—
Ime vndone.
This is you that slept with him, you can make fooles of vs, but ile turne you ouer to Quomodo fort.
Good sir.
Ile preuent mine owne danger.
I beseech you sir.
Tho I loue Gentlemen well, I doe not meane to bee vndone for 'em.
Pray sir, let mee request you sir, sweete sir, I beseech you sir.
Incipit quartus.
Made fooles of vs! not to be found!
What, what?
Do not vndoe me quite tho Ma Quomodo.
Y'are verie welcome, master Easie, I ha nothing to say to you, ile not touch you, you may goe when you please,— I haue good baile here I thanke their worships.
What shall I say, or whom shall I beseech▪
Gentlemen, S'lid they were borne to vndo vs I think, but for my part, Ile make an oath before maister Qomodo here, nere to doe Gentlemen good while I liue.
Ile not be long behind you.
Away; if you had any grace in you, you would bee ashamed to looke vs ith face, ywis I wonder with what browe you can come amongst vs, I should seeke my fortunes fa [...]re enough if I were you, and neither returne to Essex, to bee a shame to my predecessors, nor remaine about London, to be a mocke to my successors.
Subtle Shortyard!
Here are his lands forfeyted to vs master Quomodo, and to auoyd the inconscionable trouble of law, all the assi [...] [...]ance he made to vs, we willingly resigne to you.
What shall I doe with Rubbish, giue me money: Tis for your worships to haue land, that keepe great houses, I should be hoysted.
But master Quomodo, if you would but conceyue it aright, the land would fall fitter to you then to vs.
Curtzing about my land.
You haue a towardly sonne and heyre as we heare.
I must needs say, he is a Templer indeed.
We haue neither posteritie in Towne nor hope for any abroad; we haue wiues, but the markes haue beene out of their mouths these twentie yeares, and as it appeares, they did little good when they were in: wee could not stande about it sir, to g [...]t riches and children too▪ tis more then one man can doe. And I am of those Citizens mindes that say, let our wi [...]es make shift for children and they will, they get none of vs; and I cannot thinke, but he that has both much wealth and many children, has had more helpes comming in then himselfe.
I am not a Bowe wide of your minde sir.— And for the thristie and couetous hopes I haue in my sonne and heyre Sim Qmomodo, that hee will neuer trust his land in Waxe and Parchment as many Gentlemen haue done before him.
Al y-blow for me.
I will honestly discharge you, and recevue it in due forme and order of law, to strengthen it for euer to my sonne and h [...]yre, that he may vndoubtedly enter vppon't without the let or molestation of any man, at his or our pleasure whensoeuer.
Tis so assurde vnto you.
Why then maister Basie y'are a freeman sir, you may deale in what you please, and goe whether you will. Why Tomazin, maister Easie is dome from Essex, bid him welcome in a cup of small Beare.
Not onely vilde, but in it tyrannous.
If it please you sir, you knowe the house, you may visite vs often▪ and dine with vs once a quarter.
Excellent excellent, sweet Spirits.
Landed maister Quomodo.
I long to warme my selfe by'th wood,—A fine iourney in the Whitsun-holy dayes [...]yfaith, to ride downe with a number of Citizens, and their wiues, some vpon pillions, some vpon S [...]de saddles, I, and little Tomazin ith middle our some and heire S [...]m Quomodo in a peach colour Taffata Iack [...]t, some hors [...] length, or a long [...]ard before vs, there will be a fine shew on's I can tell you, where we Citizens will laugh, and lie downe ge [...] all our wiues with child against a bank and get vp againe, [...]stay, ha [...]ast thou that wit yfaith twil▪ be admirable, to see how the very thought of greene fieldes puts a man into sweet inuenttions. I will presently possesse Sim [Page] Quomodo of all the land, I haue a toy and ile doo't: and becau [...]e I see before mine eies that most of our heires proue notorious Rioters after our deaths, and that cousonage in the father wheeles about to follie in the sonne, our posteritie commonly foylde at the same weapon, at which we plaide rarely. And being the world [...] beaten worde, what's got ouer the Diuels backe, (that's by knauerie) must be spent vnder his bellie, (that's by lechery) being awake in these knowings, why should not I oppose 'em now, and breake destinie of her custome, preuenting that by pollicie, which without it must needes be Destinie? and I haue tooke the course, I will forthwith sicken, call for my keyes, make my Will, and dispose of all, giue my sonne this blessing, that hee trust no man, keepe his hand from a queane, and a Scriuener, liue in his fathers faith, and doe good to no bodie: then will I begin to raue like a fellow of a wide conscience, and for all the worlde counterfeit to the life, that which I know I shall do when I die, take on for my golde, my landes, and my wrytings, grow worse and worse, call vpon the Diuell, and so make an ende▪ by this time I haue indented with a couple of searchers, who to vphold my deuice shall fray them out a'th Chamber with report of sicknesse, and so la, I start vp, and recouer agen: for in this businesse I will trust, no not my spirits Falslight & shortyard, but in disguise note the condition of al, how pittiful my wife takes my death, which wil appear by Nouember in her eye, and the fall of the leaf inher bodie, but especially by the cost she bestows vpō my funeral, there shall I trie her loue and regard, my daughters marrying to my will & lyking, and my sonnes affection after my disposing: for to cōclude▪ I am as jealous of this land as of my wife, to know what would become of it after my decease.
Tho I be poore, tis my glorie to liue honest.
I prethee doe not leaue me.
Why thou art an vnreasonable fellow yfaith, doe not al Trades liue by their ware, and yet cald honest Liuers? doe they not thriue best, when they vtter moste, and make it away by the great? is not hole-sale the chiefest marchandize? doe you thinke some Merchants could keepe their wiues so braue but for their hole-sale? you'r fowly deceiu'd and you thinke so.
You are so glewde to punishent and shame, Your wordes ee'n deserue whipping—to beare the habit of a Gentlewoman, and be in minde so distant.
Why you foole you, are not Gentlewomen Sinners? and there's no coragious Sinner amongst vs, but was a Gentlewoman by the Mothers side I warrant you: besides, wee are not alwaies bound to thinke those our fathers that marrie our Mothers, but those that lye with our Mothers, and they may be Gentlemen borne & born agen for ought we know, you knowe.
True: corruption may well be Generatious first, Wee're bad by nature, but by custome worst.
Oh my Husband.
My Father, O my Father.
My sweete Maister, dead!
Runne boy, bid 'em ring out, hee's dead, hee's g [...]ne.
Then is as arrant a knaue gone, as ere was cal'd vppon.
Heere Wenefride, heere, heere, heere, I haue alwaies found thee secret.
You shall alwaies finde me so Mistris.
Take this letter and this Ring.
Yes forsooth.
Oh how all the partes about me shake,—enquire for one Maister Easie at his olde lodging 'ith the Blackfryers,
I will indeed forsooth.
Tell him the partie that sent him a hundred pound tother day to cōfort his heart, ha's likewise sent him this Letter and this Ring, which has that vertue to recouer him agen for euer say—name no body Winifride.
Not so much as you forsooth.
Good Girle, thou shalt haue a mourning Gowne at the buryall of mine honestie.
And ile effect your will a my Fedelitie.
I doe account my selfe the happyest Widdowe that euer counterfetted weeping, in that I haue the leasure now, both to doe that Gentleman good, and doe my selfe a pleasure, but I must seeme like a hanging Moonea little waterish a while.
O Maister Rerage, I haue lost the dearest husband that euer woman did inioy.
You must haue patience yet.
Oh talke not to mee of patience and you loue me, good Maister Rerage.
Yet if all tongues goe right, hee did not vse you so wel as a man mought.
Nay, that's true indeed Maister Rerage, he nere vsd me so well as a woman might haue beene vsde, that's certain in troth ta's beene our greatest falling out sir, and though it be the part of a widdowe, to show her selfe a woman for her Husbands death, yet when I remember al his vnkindnesse, I cannot weepe a stroake yfaith Maister Rerage, and therefore wisely did a great widdow in this land, comfort vp another, goe too Lady (quoth she) leaue blubbering, thou thinkest vpon thy husbands good parts when thou sheddest teares, doe but remember how often hee ha's laine from thee, and how many naughtie slipperie turnes he has done thee, & thou wilt nere weepe for him I warrant thee—you would not thinke how that counsell ha's wrought with me Maister Rerage, I could not dispend another teare now, and you would giue me nere so much.
Why I count you the wiser Widdowe, it showes you haue wisdome, when you can checke your passion, for mine owne part, I haue no sence to sorrowe for his death, whose life was the onely Rub to my affection.
Troth and so it was to mine, but take courage now, your'e a Landed Gentleman, & my Daughter is seauen hundred pound strong to ioyne with you.
But Lethe lyes'ith way.
Let him lye still, You shall treade ore him or ile faile in will.
Sweete widdowe.
What a beloude man did I liue? my Seruants gall their fingers with ringing, my wiues cheeks smart with weeping, [Page] stand in euerie corner, you may take water in my house— but am not I a wise foole now? what if my wife should take my death so to heart, that shee should sicken vppon't, nay swone, nay dye? when did I heare of a woman doe so, let mee see,—Now I remember me, I thinke twas before my Time; yes, I haue heard of those wiues that haue wept, and s [...]bd, and swound—marry I neuer heard but they recouered agen, that's a cōfort la, that's a comfort, & I hope so will mine —peace, tis nere vppon the time, I see, here comes the worshipful liuerie, I haue the Hospital Boyes, I perceiue little Tomazin will bestow cost of me,—Ile listen to the common censure now, how the world tongues me when my [...]are lyes lowe.
Who Quomodo? meerely enricht by shifts, And cousnages, beleeue it.
oh my yong Worshipful M. you haue parted from a deere Father, a wise and proui-dent father.
Art thou growne an Asse now?
Such an honest Father—
Prethee Beadle leaue thy lying, I am scarce able to endure thee yfaith, what honesty didst thou ere know by my Father speake, rule your tongue Beadle least I make you proue it, and then I knowe what will become of you, tis the scuruy est thing i'th earth to belye the dead so, and hee's a beastly Sonne and heyre that wil stand by, and heare his father belyed to his face, hee will nere prosper I warrant him, Troth if I be not asham'd to goe to Church with him, I would I might be hang'd, I feare such filthye Tales goe on him, oh [Page] if I had knowne hee had beene such a lewde fellow in his life hee should nere haue kept me company.
Oh—o—o!
But I am glad hee's gone, tho twere long first, Shortyard and I will reuell it yfaith, I haue made him my Rentgatherer alreadie.
Hee shall bee speedilye disinherited, hee gettes not a foote, not the Crowne of a Mole-hill, ile sooner make a courtyer my heyre for teaching my wife trickes then thee, my moste neglectfull Sonne? Oh now the coarse, I shall obserue yet farder.
O my moste modest, vertuous and remembring wife, she shall haue all when I dye, she shall haue all.
Maister Easie? tis, oh what shift shall I make now? oh—
Sweete wife she sownes, ile let her alone, ile haue no mercie at this time, ile not see her, ile follow the coarse.
The Deuill grinde thy Bones, thou co [...]sning Rascal.
Giue her a little more ayre, tilt vp her head, comfort thy selfe good widdowe, doe not fall like a Beast for a husband, there's more then wee can well tell where to put e'm, good soule.
Oh, I shall be well anon.
Fye, you haue no patience yfaith, I haue buried foure Husbands, and neuer offered e'm such abuse.
Couzen, how doe you?
Sorry to see you ill Couze.
The worst is past I hope.
I hope so to.
Lend me your hand sweet Couze I haue troubled you
No trouble indeed forsooth—Good Couzen haue a care of her, comfort her vp as much as you can, and all little ynough I warrant yee.
My moste sweete loue.
My life is not so deere.
I haue alwaies pittyed you.
Y'aue showne it heere. And giuen the desperate hope?
Delay not now, y'aue vnderstood my loue, I haue a priest readye, this is the fittest season, no eye offends vs, Let this kisse Restore thee to more wealth, me to more blisse.
The Angels haue prouided for me.
Incipit Quintus et Vltimus.
Now my desires weare crownes.
My ioyes exceede, Man is neere healthfull, till his follyes bleede.
Oh, beholde the Villaine, who in all those shapes Confounded your estate.
That slaue, that villaine.
So many Acres of good meadowe—
Rascall.
I heare you sir.
Rogue, Shortyard, Blastfield, Serjeant, Deputy, cousner
Holde, holde.
I thirst the execution of his eares.
Hate you that office,
Ile strip him bare for punishment and shame.
Why doe but heare me sir, you will not thinke what I haue done for you.
Giuen his Sonne my Lands.
A my troth 'its true sir: looke you then heere sir, you shall not misse a little scrowle sir, pray sir, let not the Cittie knowe me for a knaue, there be ritcher men would enuie my preferment if I should be knowne before e'm.
How now? fresh warders.
This is the other, binde him fast, haue I found you Maister Blastfield.
I loath his voice, away.
What happynesse was heere, but are you sure you haue all?
I hope so my sweete wife.
What difference there is in Husbands, not onelye in one thing, but in all.
Heeres good deedes and bad deedes, the writings that keep my lands to me, and the bonds that gaue it away from me.
Did he want all, who would not loue his care?
What a wife hast thou Ephestian—Quomodo, so louing so mindefull of her duetye not onely seene to weep but knowne to swone, I knew a Widdow about Saint Antlings so forgetfull of hir first Husband, that she marryed agen within the tweluemonth, nay some berladye within the month: there were sights to be seen, had they my wiues true sorrows seauen nor seauen yeares would drawe e'm to the stake, I would moste tradesmen had such a wife as I, they hope they haue, wee must all hope the best: thus in her honour.
And that's I, I made it by my selfe, and comming to her as a Beadle for my reward this morning, ile see how shee takes my death next her heart.
Now Beadle.
Blesse your mistrisships eyes from too many teares, Although you haue lost a wise and worshipfull Gentleman.
You come for your due Beadle, heere 'ith house.
Most certaine, the Hospitall money and mine owne poore forty pence.
I must craue a discharge from you Beadle.
Call your man, ile heartilye see my hand to a Memorandum.
You deale the truel yer.
Good wench still.
George, heere is the Beadle come for his money, draw a Memorandum that he has receiued all his due he can claim heere ith house after this funerall.
What politick directions shee giues him, all to secure her selfe, tis time yfaith now to pitty her, ile discouer my selfe to her ere I goe, but came it off with some liuely iest now, that were admyrable: I haue it? after the memorandum is written and all, ile set my owne name too't Ephestian Quomodo, [Page] sheele start, sheele wonder how Ephest▪ Quomodo came the ther that was buried yesterday: y'are beset little Quomodo.
Ninteene, twentie fiue pound, 1, 2, 3, & 4. d.
So, we shall haue good sport, when tis read:
How now Ladie, paying away money so fast?
The Beadles due here sir
Whose? tis Easie, what makes Easie in my house, Hee is not my wiues ouer seer I hope:
Whats here?
He makes me sweate.
Memorandum that I haue receiued of Richard Easie, all my due I can claime here i'th house▪ or any hereafter for me: In witnesse whereof, I haue set to mine owne hand, Ephestian Qommodo.
What haue I done? was I mad?
Ephestian Quomodo.
I, well, what then sir? get you out of my house, First you maister Prodigall had land, away.
What is the Beadle drunke or mad? Where are my men to thrust him out a doores.
Not so good Tomazin not so.
This fellow must be whipt.
Thanke you good wife.
I can no longer beare him.
Nay sweete husband.
Husband I me vndone, beggard, couzend, confounded for euer: married alreadie? will it please you knowe mee now mistris Harlot, and master Horner, who am I now?
Oh, hee's as like my tother husband as can be.
Ile haue iudgement, ile bring you before a Iudge, you shall feele wife whether my flesh be dead or no, ile tickle you yfaith, yfaith.
The Iudge that heele solicite knowes me well.
Lets on then, and our greeuances first tell.
Here they come.
O where.
Master Lethe we may lie together lawfully hereafter, for we are coupled together before people ynow yfaith.
There goes the strumpet.
Twas an impious part.
Oh are you come? my Lord? their here, good morrow Tomazin.
Now what are you?
How are we sure y'are he?
Oh you cannot misse my Lord.
Ile trie you. Are you the man that liu'd the famous cousner?
O no my Lord.
Not I my Lord.
Stay, stay a little I pray, now I remember me my Lord, I cousned him indeed, tis wondrous true.
Why la you now, you would not beleeue this, I am found what I am.
Conceiue you not that my Lord? a policy.
So.
Being ill got.
Your Lorpship apprehends me.
I thinke I shall anon.
O heauen!
How?
Behold his hand against it.
He do's deuize all meanes to make mee mad, that I may no more lie with my wife in perfect memorie, I know't b [...]t [...]et the landes will maintaine me in my wits: the lande will doe so much for mee.
A iest my Lord, I did I knew not what.
I, warrant yee.
No my good Lord, the lands know the right heire, I am their master once more.
Haue you the lands?
Yes truly I praise heauen.
Is this good dealing? are there such consciences abroad, how? which way could he come by 'em?
O beastly Shortyard!
Craft once discouer'd shewes her abiect line.
Roome there.
What crimes haue those brought foorth?
Why, tis she he meanes to matrye.
No in truth.
I craue it on my knees, such was his vowe at first,
O vilde slaue!
He sayes it true my Lord,
Oh intollerable! I beseech your good Lordship if I must haue an outward punishment, let me not marrie an inward, whose lastes will nere out, but growe worse and worse: I haue a wife staies for me this morning with seauen hundred pound in her pursse, let me be speedily whipt and be gone, I beseech your Lordship.
I was betrayed, yes faith.
Marry a Hailot, why not? tis an honest mans fortune, [Page] I pray did not one of my Coūtriemen marrye my Sister? why well then, if none should be marryed but those that are honest where should a man seeke a wife after Christmas? I pitty that Gentleman, that has nine Daughters to bestowe, and seauen of e'm Seeded already, they wil be good stuffe by that time, I doe beseech your Lordship to remoue the punishment, I am content to marrie her.
There's no remouing of your punishment.
O good my Lord.
Knaue in your face, leaue your mocking, Andrew, marrie your Qeane and be quiet.
Maister Easie.
I'me sorrie you take such a bad course sir.
Maister Quomodo.
Enquire my right name agen next time, now goe your waies like an Asse as you came.
Masse I forget my mother all this while, Ile make her doo't at first, pray mother your blessing for once.
Calst me Mother? out, I defie thee slaue.
Call me slaue as much as you will, but doe not shame me now, let the world knowe you are my Mother.
Let me not haue this Villaine put vpon me I beseech your Lordship.
That's soone done.
Then knowe him for a Villaine, tis thy Sonne,
Art thou Andrew my wicked Sonne Andrew?
You would not beleeue me Mother.
How art thou chang'd? Is this sute fit for thee? a Tooth-drawers Sonne, [Page] this countrie has ee'ne spoilde thee since thou camst heather, thy manners better then thy cloathes, but now whole cloathes and ragged manners, it may well be saide that truth goes naked, for when thou hadst scarce a shirt thou hadst more truth about thee.
Hence foorth no woman shall complaine for measure.