Fitz-dottrel, Mistris Fitz-dottrel, VVittipol, Manly.
Come, Wife, this is the Gentleman. Nay, blush not.
Mrs. Fit.
Why, what do you mean, Sir? ha' you
your Reason?
Fit.
Wife,
I do not know that I have lent it forth
To any one; at least, without a Pawn, Wife:
Or that I have eat or drunk the thing, of late,
That should corrupt it. Wherefore, gentle Wife,
Obey, it is thy Vertue: hold no acts
Of Disputation.
Mrs. Fit.
Are you not enough
The talk of Feasts and Meetings, but you'll still
Make argument for fresh?
Fit.
Why, careful Wedlock,
If I have a longing to have one tale more
Go of me, what is that to thee, dear heart?
Why shouldst thou envy my delight? or cross it?
By being solicitous, when it not concerns thee?
Mrs. Fit.
Yes, I have share in this. The scorn will fall
As bitterly on me, where both are laught at.
Fit.
Laught at, sweet Bird? is that the scruple?
Come, come,
Thou art a Niaise. Which of your great Houses,
[ A Niaise is a young Hawk, tane
crying out of the Nest.
(I will not mean at home here, but abroad)
Your Families in France, Wife, send not forth
Something within the seven year, may be laught at?
I do not say seven months, nor seven weeks,
Nor seven days, nor hours: but seven year, Wife.
I give 'em time. Once within seven year,
I think they may do something may be laught at.
In France, I keep me there still. Wherefore, Wife,
Let them that list, laugh still, rather than weep
For me. Here is a Cloak cost fifty pound, Wife,
Which I can sell for thirty, when I ha' seen
All London in't, and London has seen me.
To day I go to the Black-Friers Play-house,
Sit i' the view, salute all my acquaintance,
Rise up between the Acts, let fall my Cloak,
Publish a handsome Man, and a rich Suit
(As that's a special end, why we go thither,
All that pretend to stand for't o' the Stage )
The Ladies ask, who's that? (For they do come
To see us, Love, as we do to see them)
Now I shall lose all this, for the false fear
Of being laught at? Yes, wusse. Let 'em laugh, Wife,
Let me have such another Cloak to morrow
And let 'em laugh again, Wife, and again,
And then grow fat with laughing, and then fatter:
All my young Gallants, let 'em bring their Friends too:
Shall I forbid 'em? No, let Heaven forbid 'em:
Or Wit, if't have any charge on 'em. Come, thy Ear, Wife,
Is all, I'll borrow of thee. Set your Watch, Sir;
Thou only art to hear, not speak a word, Dove,
To ought he says. That I do gi' you in precept,
No less than Council, on your Wive-hood, Wife,
Not though he flatter you, or make Court, or Love,
(As you must look for these) or say, he rail;
VVhat e're his Arts be, VVife, I will have thee
Delude 'em with a trick, thy obstinate silence;
I know advantages; and I love to hit
These pragmatick young men at their own weapons.
Is your VVatch ready? Here my Sail bears for you:
Tack toward him, sweet Pinnace, where's your VVatch?
and sets his VVatch.
[He disposes his VVife to his place,
VVit.
I'll set it, Sir, with yours.
Mrs. Fit.
I must obey.
Man.
Her Modesty seems to suffer with her Beauty,
And so as if his Folly were away,
It were worth pity.
Fit.
Now th' art right, begin, Sir.
But first, let me repeat the Contract briefly.
[He repeats his Contract again.
I am, Sir, to enjoy this Cloak I stand in,
Freely, and as your Gift; upon condition
You may as freely speak here to my Spouse,
Your quarter of an hour, always keeping
The measur'd distance of your yard, or more,
From my said Spouse: and in my sight and hearing.
This is your Covenant?
VVit.
Yes, but you'll allow
For this time spent now?
Fit.
Set 'em so much back.
VVit.
I think I shall not need it.
Fit.
VVell, begin, Sir,
There is your bound, Sir. Not beyond that Rush.
VVit.
If you interrupt me, Sir, I shall discloak you.
[VVittipol begins.
The time I have purchast, Lady, is but short;
And therefore if I imploy it thriftily,
I hope I stand the nearer to my pardon.
I am not here to tell you, you are fair,
Or lovely, or how well you dress you, Lady;
I'll save my self that Eloquence of your Glass,
Which can speak these things better to you than I.
And 'tis a Knowledge wherein Fools may be
As wise as a Court-Parliament. Nor come I
With any prejudice or doubt, that you
Should, to the notice of your own worth, need
Least Revelation. She's a simple Woman,
Knows not her good: (whoever knows her ill)
And at all characts. That you are the Wife
To so much blasted Flesh as scarce hath soul,
Instead of salt, to keep it sweet: I think,
Will ask no Witnesses to prove. The cold
Sheets that you lie in, with the watching Candle,
That sees, how dull to any thaw of Beauty,
Pieces and quarters, half and whole nights sometimes,
The Devil-given Elfine Squire, your Husband,
Doth leave you, quitting here his proper Circle,
For a much worse, i' the Walks of Lincolns-Inn,
Under the Elms, t' expect the Fiend in vain, there
VVill confess for you.
Fit.
I did look for this Geer.
VVit.
And what a Daughter of Darkness he does
make you,
Lock'd up from all Society, or Object;
Your Eye not let to look upon a Face,
Under a Conjurers (or some Mould for one,
Hollow and lean, like his) but by great means,
As I now make; your own too sensible sufferings,
VVithout the extraordinary aids
Of Spells, or Spirits, may assure you, Lady.
For my part, I protest 'gainst all such practice,
I work by no false Arts, Medicines, or Charms,
To be said forward and backward.
Fit.
No, I except.
VVit.
Sir, I shall ease you.
Fit.
Mum.
[He offers to discloak him.
VVit.
Nor have I Ends, Lady,
Upon you, more than this: to tell you how Love,
Beauties good Angel, he that waits upon her
At all occasions, and no less than Fortune,
Helps th' adventrous, in me makes that profer,
VVhich never fair one was so fond to lose,
VVho could but reach a hand forth to her freedom.
On the first sight I lov'd you: since which time,
Tho I have travell'd, I have been in travel
More for this second blessing of your Eyes,
VVhich now I have purchas'd, than for all aims else.
Think of it, Lady, be your Mind as active
As is your Beauty: view your Object well.
Examine both my fashion and my years;
Things that are like, are soon familiar:
And Nature joys still in Equality.
Let not the sign o' the Husband fright you, Lady:
But e're your Spring be gone, enjoy it. Flowers,
Tho fair, are oft but of one Morning. Think,
All Beauty doth not last until the Autumn.
You grow old while I tell you this. And such
As cannot use the present, are not wise.
If Love and Fortune will take care of us,
VVhy should our will be wanting? This is all.
VVhat do you answer, Lady?
[She stands mute.
Fit.
Now the sport comes.
Let him still wait, wait, wait: while the watch goes,
And the time runs, wife!
VVit.
How! not any word?
Nay, then I taste a Trick in't. VVorthy Lady,
I cannot be so false to mine own thoughts
Of your presumed Goodness to conceive
This, as your Rudeness, which I see's impos'd.
Yet, since your cautelous Jaylor here stands by you,
And yo' are deny'd the Liberty o' the House,
Let me take warrant, Lady, from your silence,
(VVhich ever is interpreted Consent)
To make your answer for you: which shall be
To as good purpose as I can imagine,
And what I think you'ld speak.
Fit.
No, no, no, no.
VVit.
I shall resume, Sir.
Man.
Sir, what do you mean?
[He sets Mr. Manly, his Friend, in her place.
VVit.
One interruption more, Sir, and you go
Into your Hose and Doublet, nothing saves you.
And therefore hearken. This is for your VVife.
[And speaks for her.
Man.
You must play fair, Sir.
VVit.
Stand for me, good Friend.
Troth, Sir, 'tis more than true that you have utt'red
Of my unequal and so sordid Match here,
VVith all the Circ*mstances of my Bondage.
I have a Husband, and a two-legg'd one,
But such a Moonling, as no wit of Man
Or Roses can redeem from being an Ass.
H' is grown too much the story of Mens Mouthes,
To scape his lading: Should I make't my study,
And lay all ways, yea, call Mankind to help
To take his burden off; why, this one act
Of his, to let his VVife out to be courted,
And at a price, proclaims his Asinine Nature
So loud, as I am weary of my Title to him.
But, Sir, you seem a Gentleman of Vertue,
No less than Blood; and one that every way
Looks as he were of too good Quality,
To intrap a credulous VVoman, or betray her:
Since you have paid thus dear, Sir, for a Visit,
And made such venture on your VVit and Charge
Meerly to see me, or at most, to speak to me,
I were too stupid; or (what's worse) ingrate
Not to return your venture. Think but how
I may with safety do it, I shall trust
My Love and Honour to you, and presume,
You'll ever husband both, against this Husband;
Who, if we chance to change his liberal Ears,
To other Ensigns, and with labour make
A new Beast of him, as he shall deserve,
Cannot complain, he is unkindly dealt with.
This day he is to go to a new Play, Sir,
From whence no Fear, no, nor Authority,
Scarcely the Kings Command, Sir, will restrain him,
Now you have fitted him with a Stage-garment,
For the meer names sake, were there no things else;
And many more such Journeys he will make.
Which, if they now, or any time hereafter,
Offer us opportunity, you hear, Sir,
Who'll be as glad, and forward to embrace,
Meet, and enjoy it chearfully as you.
I humbly thank you, Lady.
Fit.
Keep your ground, Sir.
Wit.
Will you be lightned?
Fit.
Mum.
VVit.
And but I am,
By the sad Contract, thus to take my leave of you
At this so envious distance, I had taught
Our Lips e're this, to seal the happy mixture
Made of our Souls. But we must both now yield
To the necessity. Do not think yet, Lady,
But I can kiss, and touch, and laugh, and whisper,
And do those Crowning Courtships too, for which
Day, and the Publick, have allow'd no Name;
But now my Bargain binds me. 'Twere rude Injury
T' importune more, or urge a Noble Nature,
To what of its own Bounty it is prone to:
Else I should speak —— But, Lady, I love so well,
As I will hope you'll do so too. I have done, Sir.
Fit.
Well, then, I ha' won?
VVit.
Sir, and I may win too.
Fit.
O yes! no doubt on't. I'll take careful Order,
That she shall hang forth Ensigns at the Window,
To tell you when I am absent. Or I'll keep
Three or Four Foot-men, ready still of purpose,
To run and fetch you at her Longings, Sir.
I'll go bespeak me straight a gilt Caroch,
For her and you to take the Air in: yes,
Into Hide-Park, and thence into Black-Fryers,
Visit the Painters, where you may see Pictures,
And note the properest Limbs, and how to make 'em.
Or what do you say unto a midling Gossip?
To bring you aye together, at her lodging?
Under pretext of teaching o' my Wife
Some rare Receipt of drawing Almond Milk? ha?
It shall be a part of my care. Good Sir, God b' w' you.
I ha' kept the Contract, and the Cloak is mine own.
VVit.
Why, much good do't you Sir; it may fall out,
That you ha' bought it dear, though I ha' not sold it.
Fit.
A pretty Riddle! Fare you well, good Sir.
Wife, your Face this way, look on me, and think
Ya' have had a wicked Dream, Wife, and forget it.
[He turns his Wife about.
Man.
This is the strangest Motion I e're saw.
Fit.
Now, Wife, sits this fair Cloak the worse upon me
For my great sufferings, or your little patience? ha?
They laugh, you think?
Mrs. Fit.
Why, Sir, and you might see't.
What thought they have of you, may be soon collected
By the Young Gentleman's Speech.
Fit.
Young Gentleman?
Death! you are in love with him, are you? Could he not
Be nam'd the Gentleman, without the Young?
Up to your Cabbin again.
Mrs. Fit.
My Cage, yo' were best
To call it?
Fit.
Yes, sing there. You'ld fain be making
Blanck Manger with him at your Mothers! I know you.
Go, get you up. How now! what say you, Devil?