A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Xi Part 62

2D SER. Yes, faith; we shall have him again within this week. [_Aside._

1ST SER. Well, sir, your forty shillings; and we'll have some compa.s.sion on you.

SPEND. Will you but walk with me unto that house, And there you shall receive it.

SER. What, where the women are?

SPEND. Yes, sir.

[_They walk together to the house._

SWEAT. Look yonder, if the ungracious rascal be not coming hither betwixt two serjeants: he thinks, belike, that we'll relieve him; let us go in and clap the doors against him.

PURSE. It is the best course, Mistress Tickleman.

TICKLE. But I say no, you shall not stir a foot; For I will talk with him.

SPEND. Nan, I am come, Even in the minute that thou didst profess Kindness unto me, to make trial of it.

Adversity, thou seest, lays hands upon me: But forty shillings will deliver me.

TICKLE. Why, you impudent rogue, do you come to me for money?

Or do I know you? what acquaintance, pray, Hath ever pa.s.s'd betwixt yourself and me?

SER. Zounds, do you mock us, to bring us to these women, that do not know you?

SWEAT. Yes, in good sooth (officers, I take't you are)

He's a mere stranger here; only in charity Sometimes we have reliev'd him with a meal.

SPEND. This is not earnest in you? Come, I know, My gifts and bounty cannot so soon be buried.

Go, prythee, fetch forty shillings.

TICKLE. Talk not to me, you slave, of forty shillings; For by this light that shines, ask it again, I'll send my knife of an errand in your guts.

A shameless rogue, to come to me for money!

SWEAT. Is he your prisoner, gentlemen?

SER. Yes, marry is he.

SWEAT. Pray, carry him then to prison, let him smart for't: Perhaps 'twill tame the wildness of his youth, And teach him how to lead a better life.

He had good counsel here, I can a.s.sure you, And if he would have took it.

PURSE. I told him still myself what would ensue.

SPEND. Furies break loose in me: serjeants, let me go; I'll give you all I have to purchase freedom But for a lightning while, to tear yond wh.o.r.e, Bawd, pander, and in them the devil; for there's His h.e.l.l, his local habitation; Nor has he any other place.[198]

SER. No, sir, we'll take no bribes.

[_Takes_ SPENDALL'S _cloak_.

SPEND. Honest serjeants, give me leave to unlade A heart o'ercharg'd with grief; as I have a soul, I'll not break from you. [_They loose him._]

Thou strumpet, that wert born to ruin me,[199]

My fame and fortune, be subject to my curse, And hear me speak it. May'st thou in thy youth Feel the sharp whip, and in thy beldam age The cart: when thou art grown to be An old upholster unto venery, (A bawd, I mean, to live by feather-beds) May'st thou be driven to sell all thou hast, Unto thy _aqua-vitae_ bottle (that's the last A bawd will part withal) and live so poor That, being turn'd forth thy house, may'st die at door!

SER. Come, sir, ha' you done?

SPEND. A little farther give me leave, I pray; I have a charitable prayer to end with.

May the French cannibal[200] eat into thy flesh, And pick thy bones so clean, that the report Of thy calamity may draw resort Of all the common sinners in the town, To see thy mangl'd carca.s.s; and that then They may upon't turn honest; bawd, say amen. [_Exit._

SWEAT. Out upon him, wicked villain, how he blasphemes!

PURSE. He will be d.a.m.n'd for turning heretic.

TICKLE. Hang him, bankrout rascal, let him talk in prison, The whilst we'll spend his goods; for I did never Hear that men took example by each other.

SWEAT. Well, if men did rightly consider't, they should find that wh.o.r.es and bawds are profitable members in a commonwealth; for indeed, though we somewhat impair their bodies, yet we do good to their souls; for I am sure, we still bring them to repentance.

PURSE. By Dis, and so we do.

SWEAT. Come, come, will you dis before? thou art one of them that I warrant thee will, be hanged, before thou wilt repent. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ WILL RASH, STAINES, _and_ GERALDINE.

W. RASH. Well, this love is a troublesome thing. Jupiter, bless me out of his fingers; there's no estate can rest for him: he runs through all countries, will travel through the Isle of Man in a minute; but never is quiet till he comes into Middles.e.x, and there keeps his Christmas: 'tis his habitation, his mansion, from whence he'll never out till he be fired.

GERA. Well, do not tyrannise too much, lest one day he make you know his deity, by sending a shaft out of a sparkling eye shall strike so deep into your heart, that it shall make you fetch your breath short again.

W. RASH. And make me cry, _O eyes, no eyes, but two celestial stars!_[201] A pox on't, I'd as lief hear a fellow sing through the nose. How now, wench?

_Enter_ GERTRUDE.

GERT. Keep your station: you stand as well for the encounter as may be: she is coming on; but as melancholy as a ba.s.s-viol in concert.

W. RASH. Which makes thee as sprightly as the treble. Now dost thou play thy prize: here's the honourable science, one against another. Do you hear, lover; the thing is done you wot of; you shall have your wench alone without any disturbance; now if you can do any good, why so; the silver game be yours; we'll stand by and give aim,[202] and halloo, if you hit the clout.

STAINES. 'Tis all the a.s.sistance I request of you.

Bring me but opportunely to her presence, And I desire no more; and if I cannot win her, Let me lose her.

GERT. Well, sir, let me tell you, perhaps you undertake A harder task than yet you do imagine.

STAINES. A task! what, to win a woman, and have opportunity? I would that were a task, i' faith, for any man that wears his wits about him.

Give me but half an hour's conference with the coldest creature of them all; and if I bring her not into a fool's paradise, I'll pull out my tongue, and hang it at her door for a draw-latch. Ud's foot! I'd ne'er stand thrumming of caps for the matter; I'll quickly make trial of her.

If she love to have her beauty praised, I'll praise it; if her wit, I'll commend it; if her good parts, I'll exalt them. No course shall 'scape me; for to whatsoever I saw her inclined, to that would I fit her.

W. RASH. But you must not do thus to her; for she's a subtle, flouting rogue, that will laugh you out of countenance, if you solicit her seriously. No, talk me to her wantonly, slightly, and carelessly, and perhaps so you may prevail as much with her as wind does with a sail--carry her whither thou wilt, bully.

_Enter_ JOYCE.

STAINES. Well, sir, I'll follow your instruction.

W. RASH. Do so: and see, she appears. Fall you two off from us; let us two walk together.