LOVE-WIT, Officers, MAMMON, SURLY, FACE, Love. What do you mean, my masters? Cheaters, bawds, conjurers. Offi. Warrant enough, sir, doubt not: If you'll not open it. Love. Is there an officer there? Offi. Yes, two or three for failing. Love. Have but patience, And I will open it straight. Is it a marriage? perfect? Face. Off with your ruff and cloak then; be yourself, sir! Sur. Down with the door. What means this violence? Mam. Where is this collar? Sur. And my captain Face? Mam. These day-owls. Sur. That are birding in men's purses. Mam. Madam Suppository! Kast. Doxy, my sister. Ana. Locusts of the foul pit! Trib. Profane as Bel and the Dragon! Ana. Worse than the grashoppers, or the lice of Egypt! Love. Good gentlemen, hear me. officers, And cannot stay this violence! Offi. Keep the peace! Are you Love. Gentlemen, what is the matter? whom do you seek? Mam. The chemical cozener! Sur. And the captain Pandar. Kast. The nun, my sister. Mam. Madam Rabbi! Ana. They are the vessels Of pride, lust, and the cart. Love. Good zeal, lie still A little while! Trib. Peace, deacon Ananias! Love. The house is mine here, and the doors are open; If there be any such persons as you seek for, My more displeasure, told me he'd done The empty walls worse than I left 'em, smok'd, Love. And should ha' married a Spanish count, When he came to't, neglected her so grossly, You swore, and told her, you had ta'en the pains Could prime his powder, and give fire, and hit, Mam. The whole nest are fled! [Coming forth. Love. What sort of birds were they? Mam. A kind of choughs, Or thievish daws, sir, that have pick'd my purse Of eightscore and ten pounds within these five weeks, Beside my first materials; and my goods That lie i' the cellar: which I'm glad they ha' left. I may have home yet. Love. Think you so, sir? Mam. Ay. Love. By order of law, sir, but not otherwise. Mam. Not mine own stuff? Love. Sir, can take no knowledge That they are yours, but by public means. If you can bring certificate that you were gull'd of 'em, Or any formal writ out of a court, That you did cozen yourself, I will not hold them. Mam. I'll rather lose 'em. Love. That you shall not, sir, By me, in troth. Upon these terms they are yours. What should they ha' been, sir? turn'd into gold all? Mam. No: I cannot tell. It may be they should. What then? Love. What a great loss in hope have you Mam. Not I, the commonwealth has. The city new, and made a ditch about it That, every Sunday in Moorfields, the younkers, Sur. Must I needs cheat myself, With that same foolish vice of honesty! Come, let us go, and hearken out the rogues. That Face I'll mark for mine, if e'er I meet him. Face. If I can hear of him, sir, I'll bring you word Unto your lodging:-for, in troth, they were strangers To me: I thought them honest as myself, sir. Trib. 'Tis well, the saints shall not lose all yet. Go, [They come forth. And get some carts Love. For what, my zealous friends? Ana. To bear away the portion of the righteous Out of this den of thieves. Love. What is that portion? Ana. The goods, sometime the orphans, that the brethren Bought with their silver pence. The wicked Mammon, so do all the brethren, science Thou canst advance that idol against us That have the seal? Were not the shillings num bered That made the pounds? Were not the pounds told out Upon the second day of the fourth week, Love. Mine earnest vehement botcher, Trib. Be patient, Ananias. Ana. I am strong, And will stand up, well girt, against an host Love. I shall send you Against thy house: may dogs defile thy walls, Face. No, this was Abel Drugger.-Good sir, go [To the Parson. And satisfy him; tell him, all is done: He staid too long a-washing of his face. The doctor he shall hear of him at Westchester; And of the captain, tell him, at Yarmouth; or Some good port-town else, lying for a wind.If you get off the angry child, now, sirKast. Come on, you ewe, you have match'd most sweetly, ha' you not? Did not I say, I would never ha' you tupp'd [To his Sister. But by a dubb'd boy, to make you a Lady-Tom? 'Slight, you are a mammet! O, I could touse you now. Death, mun' you marry with a pox! Love. You lie, boy; As sound as you; and I'm aforehand with you. Kast. Anon! Love. Come, will you quarrel! I will seize you, sirrah. Why do you not buckle to your tools? This is a fine old boy as e'er I saw! Love. What, do you change your copy now? Proceed, Here stands my dove! stoop at her if you dare. Kast. 'Slight, I must love him! I cannot chuse, i'faith, And kind spectators, if I have outstripp'd Face. So I will, sir.-Gentlemen, Yet 'twas decorum.—And though I am clean [Exeunt. RULE A WIFE AND HAVE A WIFE. BY FLETCHER. PROLOGUE. Pleasure attend ye, and about ye sit Take no example neither to begin, Some drunk, some mad: we mean not you, you're free, We tax no farther than our comedy. You are our friends !-sit noble, then, and see. SCENE I. ACT I. Enter JUAN DE CASTRO and MICHAEL PEREZ. Mich. ARE your companies full, colonel? Nor will be this month yet, as I reckon ; Mich. We pick up still, and as our monies hold out, We have men come: about that time I think We shall be full too; many young gallants go. Juan. And unexperienced. The wars are dainty dreams to young hot spirits, Time and experience will allay those visions; We have strange things to fill our numbers. There's one Don Leon, a strange goodly fellow, Recommended to me from some noble friends, For my Alferes; had you but seen his person, And what a giant's promise it protesteth. Mich. I have heard of him, and that he hath serv'd before too. Juan. But no harm done, nor never meant, Will not this soldier's heat out of your bones yet? Do your eyes glow now? Mich. There be two. Enter Servant, Donna CLARA, and ESTIFANIA, veiled. Juan. You are welcome, ladies. Mich. Both hooded! I like 'em well though: They come not for advice in law sure hither May be they would learn to raise the pike. I am for 'em: they are very modest,"'tis a fine preludium. Juan. With me, or with this gentleman, Would you speak, lady? Clara. With you, sir, as I guess, Juan de Castro. Mich. Her curtain opens, she is a pretty gentlewoman. Juan. I am the man, and shall be bound to fortune, I may do any service to your beauties. Clara. Captain, I hear you are marching down to Flanders, To serve the catholic king. Juan. I am, sweet lady. Clara. I have a kinsman, and a noble friend, Employ'd in those wars; may be, sir, you know him, Don Campusano, captain of carbines, To whom I would request your nobleness, Juan. I shall do it, [A letter. I know the gentleman, a most worthy captain. Clara. Something in private. |