ACT. III. Scene I.
Francis ––– Wat.
I Shall repent me, ſir, that ere I yeilded,
In that faire Noble way, if you expreſſe
Your ſelfe in this regardleſſe of my honour.
J like a Whore, withall my heart, that talkes
A Chaſt and conſtant Wife of her, Whom you
Have wrought to Lewdneſſe before Marriage?
Or may J not as well deſerve as well in bringing
A Maidenhead into your Marriage-bed,
For a poore bit afore-hand! Is it ſo?
’Heart, if a man beſpeak a Tavern Feaſt
For next day Dinner; and give earneſt for’t
To half the value, (as my Faith and Troth
I think, is ſomewhat towards your Marriage payment
To be to morrow) Will not the Hoſteſſe give him
A Modicum o’re night to ſtay his ſtomack?
Your Father comes: Jle whiſper yet more reaſon.
Enter Dryground diſguis’d. Alice.
Now pretty Mr. Alice
, you ſee the end
I had upon you: All the ſcope thereof
Tending to your contentment. Are you pleas’d?
So well, that could I but ſhake off the feare
(Which is moſt dangerous) of a Fathers curſe,
I durſt pronounce; nay, boaſt my happineſſe,
To be above my Virgin hopes, or wiſhes.
Let your feare vaniſh then: And, if this night,
The happineſs you are ambitious of,
Together with your Fathers leave and bleſſing
Crown not your Bed, let all the Infamy
Due to all perjur’d Wretches, that have wrong’d
Beauty and Chaſtity be branded here.
The faire reſpect I have, ſir, to your Nobleſſe;
For what you have already ſhown me, bars
Mine eares ’gainſt proteſtation. I dare truſt you.
As I have truſted you with my whole project,
My diſcreet Alice
, further than I dare truſt
My Inſtrument your Brother; though he thinks
He underſtands it all. Yonder he is,
Profoundly Love-ſtruck too, J make no doubt.
Fye! Can you be ſo lew’d? Is that your rea-
Yes; can the Pariſh Parſon give you better?
His Pariſh Bull’s as civill.
Ile talke with your Father about it.
J with your Siſter, and to better purpose.
, what think you of my courſe, and
As I love miſchiefe, and deſire to live by’t;
It is the daintieſt courſe. –––––– O, brave ſir Humphrey
How I am taken with your Shape! Old Osbright
The Father of the Swindgers; ſo much talk’d on
Could nere ha’ borne it up ſo. Nor his Daughter,
That was French born indeed, could ere have clipp’d,
And Frenchified our Engliſh better, then
She counterfeits to Coxcombes that do Court her:
With her fine Fee-fees, and her Laiſſe-moys;
Her Prea-awayes; Intrat a you mak a me bluſha.
ſlid J could dote upon you. Had J been
Your Son now, how I could have honour’d you!
Though I had kept a Precept by’t, I care not.
Ought me a miſchiefe, when he enabled that
Old Wretch, my Father to beget me. Oh,
Tis in my bones; I feele it in my Youth:
I know from whence the Pocks is now deſcended.
The Gout begets it. There’s no Uſurers Son,
But’s born with an hereditary ſpice on’t.
Had J rak’d Limbo
, as J did the Compter
I were not better fitted with a Copeſmate.
’ſlight, I could ask you bleſſing.
That curteſie you have ſeldome done your Father.
Nere ſince I grew to any underſtanding:
Nor (as I know) before, but whipt and held to’t.
. You ſee how far I have truſted
To have the ſecond hand in our great work;
Our Project here. Though you muſt ſeem my Servant,
You are like to have the better ſhare, if you agree.
Upon the Match, and make your ſelfe my Son.
How like you your new Miſtreſſe, ſir, my Daughter;
The Maidenhead here, the new Ordinary --
, or what you pleaſe to call her?
What ist a Match Wat
? Condeſcendeth ſhe?
No man ſhall be her Huſband, but my ſelfe;
Who ere ſhe lies withall, before or after.
That ſhe has roundly promis’d. But ſhe balkes,
And Boggles with me in a leſſe requeſt.
She ſhall deny thee nothing. What iſt Wat
You may command her duty, if you pleaſe.
’Troth, ſir, but one nights knowledge
Of her aforehand. one word of your mouth,
That can imagine this a Fathers Office!
My Father would be pleas’d with’t, Il’d take home
My Siſter elſe, and preſently.
Jn Maides about your work. And heare you
Diſcharge the Butchers, and the Chandlers Bills.
They wait below. The Baker and the Brewer,
The Bottle-man too, and Tobacco Merchant.
Do as I bid you, go. Now Wat
As an ingenious Critick would obſerve
The firſt Scene of a Cemedy, for feare
I do obſerve you, ſir.
I have, you know, releas’d from your thrall-
Upon condition you ſhould ſteale your Siſter,
To be at my diſpoſe. You have perform’d it:
Yes, honeſtly, as you ſay.
And though it be for her own abſolute good;
Yet was your Act ſo gratefull to me, that
I promis’d you my Daughter.
I ſhall be briefe; you know my Fortune, VVat
Are ſunk, and you have heard, I make no doubt,
’Mongſt other of my follies, of a Child
I got on Brookealls
ſiſter, on the by, Wat
And this is ſhe, I love a baſtard naturally,
Ah thy are bouncing ſpirits: Now I love her
But now, my poverty affords no portion.
, to raiſe a portion!
Now I come to it, Wat
: J tooke this houſe,
And in this habit here, turn’d pimping Hoſt,
To make the moſt of her, and find a Huſband
To take her with all faults.
That’s I, that’s I Sir: this has muſick in’t.
You will be ſecret Wat
No dumbe Bawde like me.
Nay in a plot of villany I dare truſt thee.
In troth you cannot thinke how much I
How I am tickled with it! Good Sir, on.
This I have deſign’d to put her off
(I mean her Maiden-head) at ſuch a rate
How, good Sir Humphrey
She ſhall be rifled for.
Yes, rifled Wat
; the moſt at three fair throws,
With three fair Dice, muſt win and wear her, Wat
Youle take her with all faults?
It is the rareſt invention, if the Gameſters
Be ſtiffe aud ſtrait, that ever was projected!
But twenty Pieces, boy.
I vow too little, leſſe their number help us.
How many Gamſters have you?
Two thouſand pound! A merry portion,
And worth as many Maiden-heads in the ſport
A man ſhall finde in ſpending it! Me-thinks
J feele my ſelf even flying with’t already.
What art thou thinking, Wat
A danger Sir, the Gameſters being ſo many.
Why, there’s but one muſt uſe her.
I were indifferent, if ’twere all or more
(As it is poſſible a wench might bear it)
If they come ſingle, and in civill ſort,
Allow her breathing-whiles ––––
Here’s a ripe Raſcall!
But my doubt is, that ſuch a multitude
May fly into combuſtion, blow up all
The buſineſſe and our hopes.
Reflects upon my Iudgement: didſt thou note
How quietly thoſe Gallants here to-day
They ſhall agree as well for the Commodity,
As I have caſt it, VVat
; ſo well my boy,
That no diſtaſte ſhall be or ta’ne, or given,
She knows not on’t you ſay,
Nor ſhall ſhe VVat
, till at the puſh I charge
To be obedient in the undertaking.
And that’s a ſweet obedience: I could kneel
Before my wretched Sire in ſuch commands.
Anon Ile make’t all plain to you. How now
There are two Gentlemen in the next room,
That by all meanes would ſpeake with you: I have
The fouleſt coyle with one of ’em, that perſwades
Himſelfe you keep a Bawdy-houſe, by ſomewhat
He gather’d Eveſdropping, by your diſcourſe here,
While t’other held me talking; who is civill,
And loves me with a modeſt fair affection.
Where is his ſiſter, Alice
Unſeen, I wrrrant you.
Then let them enter, Whip into your diſguiſe
, Anon, anon Sir.Ex. VVat.
Did they Eaveſdrop me? I willStands a-
Enter Oliver, Ambroſe.
Did not I tell thee’t was a Bawdy-houſe?
I cannot think ſo yet: there is ſome other
Trick in it; the Maid you ſee is very modeſt.
That is the trick on it man, ſhe muſt ſeem ſo.
Her Father deals for her.
Fye! Can there be ſuch Fathers?
Yes, and ſuch Mothers too: The Towne’s too
Come, ſhee’s a Jugling whore I warrant thee,
For all her Fee-fees, and her Laiſſe-moys.
Pox of her counterfeit Gibbriſh Ile make her ſpeak
In plainer Engliſh, ere I ha’ done with her.
I have enough. You are welcome Gentlemen.
He looks like ſuch a Blade. Are you the Maſter
I am the man that’s much rejoyc’d to ſee
Such ſparkling Spirits underneath this Roofe,
Where all you finde is yours. Sirrah Varlet.
Each ſyllable he ſpeaks bewrays him.
Enter Wat with Wine.
Give me the Complement. Gallants,
Wilt pleaſe you taſte your welcome in a Cup,
The ſpirit of whoſe never dying Liquor,
Speaks ore the brim in this high Language to you.
Full ſix and thirty times hath Luna
The ſtrength ſhe got in ſix and thirty growths
vertuous beames, into this Juyce,
To make it Nectar for Phœbean
Tis this inſpires their braines with fire Divine,
By which to write high ſtraines; and herein lurks,
The gift, One has to bounce up his own works.
Your meaning is good Sack, and three years old.
To put you by your Beverage and your Bombaſt,
I will nor drinke, nor talke of other thing,
But the choice thing of things, your Daughter Sir.
Thou ſhalt not wooe my Daughter, nor ne man
Unlaſſe thou come untill her by her Daddy nak’d.
Her Mammy’s gone to Heaven Sir. And I pray,
Let Fathers poor breed Daughters as they may.
Your care, no doubt, is great what will it hold?
The Rifling Sir, I meane. Is your number full?
May not a man put in Sir for a chance?
What do you mean Sir?
Come in adventurers? Here are twenty peeces.
I finde you have overheard me. Call my Daugh-
Now Ile diſcloſe a ſecret to you. But Gentlemen,
As you love wit and mirth, cenſure me mildly.
I am a Gentleman decayd in Fortune.
And canſt thou be ſo baſe to ſell thy Childe
My Child’s as deare in my reſpect as you
Were ever to your Father.
Devill thou lyeſt –––––– Draw.
Nay, hold, good Ambroſe
; you een now were
With me, that did oppoſe your faire Conſtruction
Of this good Gentleman and his vertuous Daughter.
My ignorance wrong’d us both.
What do you thinke of this diſcovery?
You had diſcover’d more, if his impatience
Had not prevented me: But now I am dumb to you
In all, but this. If youle be pleas’d to ſup here,
I ſhall afford you welcome. I have buſineſſe.Exit.
What can we make of this?
If City Juſtice, grave Authority
Protect it not, Ile ſurely ſpoyle the ſport.
Canſt thou be ſo malicious, that, but now
Didſt love this Wench ſo dearly, as to run her
Into the hazard of Correction?
Stay: Here ſhe comes, and the Pimp whiſkin with her
Enter Wat. Fran.
Do thou take him in hand. Ile handle her.
Now Madam, twenty pound a man! Nay do not
Coy it too much? Your provident Father left us,
To make our ſelves more known to you; as your price
Is known to us already: Look upon us.
Pre ye Sir, have you been ever in France
? No ſurely, nor in Doctors hands
Since I was Placket high. Why aſk you Lady?
For, if you could ſpeak Franſh, I could the better
Find what you ſay. I can no underſtand
What tis you mean by price. What is that Price
If it be no Welch Gentleman?
The price of three throws for your Maydenhead,
Tis twenty peeces. If I win it (Hearke you)
What will you give me out of your groſſe ſum
To take it neatly off; and like an Operator
Fra.Parle Françoy Monſieur, Je vou prie.
Thou art a handſome Hyppocrite: And this
Cunning becomes thee well. Ile kiſſe thee for’t.
Fee fee Monſieur. O fee! tis no good faſhion,
For the young Man and Mayd to no ting but kiſſe!
Tis not ſo good indeed; nothing but kiſſe.
A little of tone with tother will doe well.
Fee fee, you no underſtand. That Gentleman
Yes yes. He ſpeaks no French.
Fra.He Monſieur vou mocque de Moy
Fra.Ha Monſieur vou parle françoy. Je ſui’ bien aiſie
Eaſie! Yes yes, I thinke you would be eaſie
To one that knew but how to manage you,
For all the boaſt of your Virginity.
Excuſe me Sir, I can no underſtand.
Me thinks you ſhould. Come prithee leave this
I know you can good Engliſh, if you liſt.
Indeed I can. But, in my beſt, and all
I cannot underſtand you Sir, nor frame
An anſwer to your rudeneſſe. When you know me
Better, youle ſpeak in better phraſe, and then
Tis like you may finde better language from me:
Till when, pray give me leave to leave you Sir.
Nay heark you Lady, heark you (ſtill more my-
Nay ſince you can ſpeak Engliſh, I muſt talke w’ye.
Civill I ſwear, and private.They go aſide.
Does ſhee not know on’t, ſayſt thou?
Not the leaſt inckling of it: The old man
Carryes it ſo diſcreetly.
Diſcreetly ſayſt thou. To betray his Childe,
To ſale of her Virginity.
She dreames of no ſuch buſineſſe; ſuch intent:
No more then the Cud-chewing Heifer knowes
The Butcher, that muſt knock her down ifaith.
O, twill be bravely carried! I my ſelfe
Knew nothing till this houre: though I ſaw
Money put in his hand by divers Gallants:
Men of great place and worſhip; which I gather
Are to be of the Riflers.
All muſt be nameleſſe. There are Lords among
And ſome of civill Coat, that love to draw
New ſtakes at the old Game, as well as they;
Truckle-breech’d Juſtices, and buſtling Lawyers,
That thruſt in with their Motions; Muffled Citizens;
Old Money-Maſters ſome, that ſeek the Purchace;
And Merchant Venturers that bid for the
Forreine Commodity, as faire, as any.
Was ever ſuch an outrage! Heark thee fellow -- They aſide.
Sir, I have heard you with that patience
(And with no better) as the troubled Pilot
Endures a Tempeſt, or contrary winds;
Who, finding neretheleſſe his Tackling ſure,
His Veſſell tight, and Sea-room round about him,
Playes with the waves, and vies his confidence
Above the blaſts of Fortune, till he winns
His way, through all her threatenings, to his Port.
And you may be plainer.
Is there not ſuch a project for your Maydenhead?
It deſerves no anſwer.
But to be rid of you, together with
The Devill, that inflam’d you to that queſtion;
Know, that knew I of ſuch a plot or project;
Or, that I had a Father (as injuriouſly
You have ſuggeſted) could be ſo inhumane,
To proſtitute my ſpotleſſe Virgine honour
To Luſt for Salary, I would as ſure prevent it,
As there is force in poyſon, Cord, or Steel,
At price of both our lives. Sir, I have ſayd --- Exit.
This Wench amazes me. Could I beleeve now
There could be truth in Woman, I could love her.
Well, Ile make one; Meet me here two houres
And fetch my twenty Peices.
I will not faile you. In the Temple Walkes ------Exit.
Where, if I fit you not -------
A villany enough to blow the houſe up.
And I have found (I thinke) a vertue, that
Might ſave a City: But let’s hence. We may
Conferr our notes together by the way.Exeunt.
ACT. III. Scene II.
Bumpſey, Magdalen, Jane, all in brave Cloaths.
NAY, nay, I know he is flown out, and I
Am prettily provided for like flight;
And if I do not pitch as high, and ſouſe
As deep, as he, while there is Game to fly at ------
Five hundred Peices he took out you ſay?
And ſayd he would venter’t at the Ordinary.
Thats hee, thats he! Why this is excellent.
This was your folly Bump
. He was content
To have walk’d moneyleſſe you ſaw, but you
Would force him. At a word you did la’ Bump
I, at a word, you put it in his head,
And put the Sword into the Madmans hand,
Let not your fine French Frippery, which I bought,
Turn’d oth’ Taylors hands (as one would ſay)
Huffle you up to Soveraignty: Nor your Coach,
Which I have but beſpoak, whirle you away,
Before tis finiſh’d) from obedience.
Good lack fine Gentleman, that weares the
Of a Pawn’d forfeiture. Muſt I
not ſpeak trow?
will ſpeak; and be allow’d to ſpeak.
And ſpeak allow’d too; will you Magdalen
, at a word; Since you have put me to’t,
will uphold the Fashion; Learn, and practiſe
Behaviour and carriage above my ’parrell.
at a word, J
will la, that J
This is moſt excellent! My old Beaſt is
Infected with the Faſhions; Faſhion-ſick!
Pray Ma-dame take your courſe, uphold your Faſhion;
And learn and practiſe Carriage to your Cloaths:
I will maintain my humour, though all ſplit by’t. --
deſires to ſpeak with you.
I faith I will Ma-dame. -- [ Exit with Ser-
My Huſband, Mother,vant. ]
Reports of a rare Creature come to Towne,
Of a French breed; a Damoyſell
, that profeſſeth
The teaching of Court-carriage and behaviour:
The rar’ſt he ſaies –––––
Can ſhe teach the elder ſort?
All ages from ſix yeares to ſixty ſix.
Unleſſe they be indocible he ſaies.
Indocible! What’s that?
Stiff i’the hammes, I think.
Nay, then wee’ll to her.
I can yet bowe my Haunches; come and go
With them, as nimbly as the barren Doe.
My Gimboles don’t complain for want of Oyle yet.
Wee’ll have this Madame; and we will be Madames
Ourſelves, or it ſhall coſt us each a Crown
A month the teaching. In a Month we may,
Practiſing but one houre in a day,
Yes, if we give our minds to’t; and but ſteale
Wee’ll find Lecture times:
Or baulk St. Antlins
for’t the while. But mum.
Enter Bumpſey, Vermine.
Do you wonder at my bravery? Look you
This is my Wife; and this my Daughter, ſir.
You have loſt yours, you ſay: Perhaps for want
Of Hufty-luſties, and of Gorgets gay.
The World’s turn’d Prodigall.
You do not well to mock me, when I come
Shall I be plain w’ye;
My beſt adviſe is, ſince your Daughters gone,
To turn your Son after her. He lies not in
For much above a hundred pound. Pay it,
And let him take his courſe: If he be not
Got looſe already. Then (obſerve my Counſell)
Spend you the reſt of your Eſtate your ſelfe;
And ſave your Heires the ſin. It is the courſe
I have in hand, and mean to follow it.
You like it not (it ſeems) but thus it is,
VVhen men adviſe for nothing. Had your Lawyer
Now for his fee, given Counſell, might have damn’d
You would have thought it worth your Gold, and
VVill you go with me to an Ordinary?
Venter five hundred or a thouſand Peeces,
To begin a new VVorld with.
, I take it you are ſhe.
An old Ape has an old eye.
He knowes me through all my cuts and ſlashes.
How long I pray, has my good friend your Hus-
But when I am perfect
In the quaint Courtly carriages, that belong
Unto this habit; in which, I confeſſe,
I am yet but raw; how will you know me then?
How Lady-like ſhe talkes!
Or, now my black Bag’s on, I hold a penny
You do not know me. Bogh-who am I now?
Moſt unrecoverably mad! young Gentlewo-
Nay, I intreat your favour for an anſwer?
As you can pity a wrong’d mans diſtreſſe.
Give me what light you can of my loſt Daughter.
ou have been inward alwaies, and partook
The neareſt of her Counſels. T
ell me fairely
do beſeech you in this gentle way.
have a ſtrong preſumption
Againſt your Huſband, and his young Aſſociates
I met to-day; and bore their mocks and taunts:
On which I
have good ground for a ſtrickt courſe
To force ’em to examination.
Quite upſide downe: Elſe I
How you could make requeſts, that have got all
ou have (too much) by Rapine and Oppreſſion.
What’s the matter Jane?
The Fox here learns to ſing.
Ile fox him out oth’ hole if he ſing here.
Will no Prey ſerve you but new married wives, Fox?
Why do you abuſe me thus?
I heard you, ſir, with too much patience,
Abuſe my Huſband with your foule Suſpition.
Who is as cleer, I know, from wronging you,
Your mocks are monſtrous.
Were not he faſt enough, I would reſolve
No other friend had robb’d me.
Is your ſon a friend? At a word, hee’s like
Enter Sir Amphilus, Servant.
J pray, if my man aſke for mee, ſend him to
me, by your Maſters leave. By your leave Sir, I made
bold to follow a Father-in-Law of mine that ſhould
have been, into your houſe here, with much ado to find
it. Any good newes Sir yet? Ha’ you heard of her?
J cry theſe Ladies mercy; though you may take me for
a Clowne, J muſt not forget I am a Knight, and give
you the curteſie of my lips ––––
In the name of Peaſantry, what Knight art
If not the Knight of the Plough-ſhare?
A fine ſpoken, and a well-bred man, at a
word: He call’d us Ladies. To ſee what Apparell can
do! How long might I have trudg’d about in my old
coats before J had been a Lady? And then hee would
do us the curteſie to kiſſe us: Sure, ſure, as curteſie
makes a Knight, ſo cloaths makes a Lady.
It ſeems ſhe’s loſt then. All ill go with her.
What old youth can this be?
Your warrant, perhaps, may find her though.
J ha’ ſent my man to lay the Ducking Ponds for her.
Do you think ſhe would drown her ſelfe?
Who knowes what toy might take her?
Is ſhe not a woman, as other fleſh and
blood is? I had another occaſion to one
that belongs to the Ponds. I tell you as a
Friend, I had not ſent els: Come Father-
in-Law that ſhould have been; hang ſor-
row. You have had but one Loſſe to-day.
I have had two. Ile gi’t you in Rhime.
My Mare and my Mistreſſe I lost on a day
T’ one of ’em dyed, and t’ other ran away
You are acquainted among the Poets it ſeems,
Truly but one that’s a Gamſter amongſt us at the
ducking Pond; a Cobler, but the neateſt Fellow at
Poetry, that ever was handicrafts-man; & no Schol-
ler, to enable him by learning, to borrow of the An-
cients: Yet he is a Translator too. And he makes
the ſweeteſt Poſies for Privie-houſes.
What a youth’s this for a Knight!
Ile tell yee Ladies ––– O Trebaſco
J can never finde you any where, but jeer’d and
laugh’d at, and are fool’d, (as I have often
told you) to your Worſhips face, and your
Worſhip perceives it not.
To the point, man. How does my Whelp? He
is grown a tall Dog by this J hope; reſolve me
Why, to put you out of your pain; your
Whelp’s grown a tall Dog.
You ſaid you would tell us, ſir: What will you
What a Dog-trick’s is this?
And h’as learnt, beſides the main Game, all the
rare tricks and qualities his Tutor could teach.
Will you not tell us, ſir, about your Poet?
Hang him, my Dogs worth ’em all, in ready
I will not give his eares for the ſwolnſt head-
Are not his Eares finely curl’d Trebaſco
? Like his
Yes, and his Coat all over, ſir, they told me.
Told thee! Didſt thou not ſee him? My heart
See him? No indeed, ſir; but J pray beare it as
And ſet not your heart too much upon tranſportable
The Dog is gone, ſir.
Stolne from Schoole, ſir; and ſold to a great
And Shipt away foure daies ago.
O my heart will break.
Do not faint Knight; Cheare up your heart with
My veine is yet too dul; But I will offer at it.
Three Loſſes I have had; gone, paſt all help
My Mare, my Miſtreſſe, And (which grieves me moſt
That line is long enough to reach him:
I would it were elſe. –––– o ––––
Od’s pity. Look you, ſir, your Son-in-Law,
that ſhould ha’ been, is in much paſſion
too. But you’ll be rul’d by me, you ſay. And
if J lead you not to comfort, never truſt
Neigbours counſell while you live. Is not this
plain enough? My own caſe at this time is as
That’s all that comforts me.
Neighbourly ſaid. I thank you. Come, Sir,
will you joyn with your Father-in-Law that
ſhould ha’ been, and me in a Cup of VVine
There’s a reckoning towards.
It ſhall coſt you nothing.
To the next Tavern then. Ladies adieu.
To part with ſuch as you to ſome are croſſes.
Yet Ile not put you down among my Loſſes.Exeunt.
Daughter while they are gone, let us fall on
For Courtly carriage and behaviour.
J long to ſee this French young ſchoolmiſtreſs.
do you call her?
, Ile wait on you. –––– Exit.