“ Sir J. Wor. Well, Luce, respect Sir Abraham, I charge you.
Luc. Father, my vow is pass'd: whilst the earl lives,
I ne'er will marry, nor will pine for him.
It is not him I love now, but my humour;
But since my sister he hath made his choice,
This wreath of willow, that begirds my brows,
Shall never cease to be my ornament,
'Till he be dead, or I be married to him.
Pen. Life! my lord; you had best marry 'em all three. They'll never be content else.
C. Fred. I think so, too.
Sir J. Wor. These are impossibilities. Come, Sir Abraham. ”

“ Enter Sir Lionel.
Sir Lionel. Lord, Lord, what a careless world is this! neither bride nor bridegroom ready; time to go to church, and not a man unroosted: this age has not seen a young gallant rise with a candle; we live drowned in feather-beds, and dream of no other felicity. This was not the life when I was a young man. What makes us so weak as we are now? A feather-bed. What so unapt for exercise? A feather-bed. What breeds such pains and aches in our bones? why, a feather-bed or a wench—or at least a wench in a feather-bed. ”

“ Staines. This be the place then; and prepare you, sir;
You shall have fair play for your life of me,
For, look, sir, I'll be open-breasted to you.
Spend. Shame light on him that thinks
His safety lieth in a French doublet.
Nay, I would strip myself, would comeliness
[232] Give sufferance to the deed, and fight with thee
As naked as a Mauritanian Moor.
Staines. Give me thy hand; by my heart, I love thee.
Thou art the highest-spirited citizen
That ever Guildhall took notice of.
Spend. Talk not what I am, until you have tried me.
Staines. Come on, sir. ”

“ Hast dishonour'd my daughter—made a whore of her.
Franc. Gentle sir,
The wrong my love has made to your fair daughter
'Tis now too late to wish undone again:
But, if you please, it may be yet clos'd up
Without dishonour: I will marry her.
Frank. Marry her! she has a hot catch of that.
Marry a beggar!
What jointure canst thou make her?
Franc. Sir, I am poor, I must confess;
Fortune has bless'd you better: but I swear
By all things that can bind, 'twas not your wealth
Was the foundation of my true-built love ”

“ Long. And you, sir. What business draws you towards this end o' th' town?
Gera. Faith, no great serious affairs; only a stirring humour to walk, and partly to see the beauties of the city: but it may be you can instruct me. Pray, whose shop's this?
Long. Why, 'tis Will Rash's father's: a man you are well acquainted with.
Enter a Wench with a basket of linen.
Gera. As with yourself: and is that his sister?
Long. Marry, is it, sir?
Gera. Pray, let us walk: I would behold her better.
Wench. Buy some coifs, handkerchiefs, or very good bonelace, mistress? ”

“ I send a comedy to you here, as good as I could then make; nor slight my presentation, because it is a play; for I tell thee, reader, if thou be'st ignorant, a play is not so idle a thing as thou art, but a mirror of men's lives and actions; nor, be it perfect or imperfect, true or false, is the vice or virtue of the maker. This is yet, as well as I can, qualis ego vel Cluvienus. Thou must needs have some other language than thy mother-tongue, for thou think'st it impossible for me to write a play, that did not use a word of Latin, though he had enough in him. ”

“ But come, setting this duello of wit aside, I have overheard your confession and your casting about for a father, and in troth, in mere charity, came in to relieve you. In the scroll of beasts, horses and asses, that have fed upon this common of yours, you named one Pendant: faith, wench, let him be the father. He is a very handsome gentleman, I can tell you, in my lord's favour. I'll be both secret and your friend to my lord. Let it be him; he shall either reward thee bountifully, or marry thee. ”

“ Pen. Yes, yes: out of all question, the whore does love you abominable.
Abra. No more of these foul terms: if she do love me,
That goes by fate, I know it by myself.
I'll not deny but I have dallied with her.
Pen. Ay, but hang her, whore; dallying will get no children.
Abra. Another whore, and draw! Where is the girl?
Pen. Condoling her misfortune in the gallery;
Upon the rushes sitting all alone,
And for Sir Abraham's love venting her moan.
[59] Abra. I know not what to say: fate's above all.
Come, let's go overbear her. Be this true,
Welcome, my Wagtail: scornful Luce, adieu. ”

“ Bold. It is most true. Welltried is fled.
Fee. Why, let the roarers meddle with me another time: as for flying, I scorn it; I killed 'em like a man. When did you ever see a lord hang for anything? We may kill whom we list. Marry, my conscience pricks me. Ah! plague a' this drink! what things it makes us do! I do no more remember this now than a puppy-dog.
O bloody lord, that art bedaub'd with gore!
Vain world, adieu, for I will roar no more.
Bold. Nay, stay, my lord: I did but try the tenderness of your conscience. All this is nothing so ”

“ Long. How now! what are these, onions?
Bub. Ay, ay, Sir Lionel, they are my onions; I thought to have had them roasted this morning for my cold. Gervase, you have not wept to-day; pray, take your onions. Gentlemen, the remembrance of death is sharp, therefore there is a banquet within to sweeten your conceits. I pray, walk in, gentlemen, walk you in; you know I must needs be melancholy, and keep my chamber. Gervase, usher them to the banquet.
Staines. I shall, sir. Please you, Sir Lionel?
Sir Lionel. Well, Master Bubble, we'll go in and taste of your bounty. ”

“ Maid. Nay, perhaps taught her: many of those husbands
Are base enough to live upon't.
Ingen. I have seen another of 'em
Cheat, by this light, at cards, and set her women
To talk to the gentlemen that play'd,
That, so distracted, they might oversee.
Maid. O, fie upon ye! I dare swear you lie.
Ingen. Do not, fair mistress; you will be forsworn.
Maid. You men are all foul-mouth'd: I warrant, you
Talk thus of me and other ladies here
Because we keep the city.
Ingen. O, profane!
That thought would damn me. Will you marry yet?
Maid. No, I will never marry. ”

“ Thus 'tis for a poor damsel like myself
To yield her honour and her youth to any,
Who straight conceives she does so unto many:
And as I have a soul to save, 'tis true.
Pen. Pray, do not swear. I do not urge you to't. 'Swounds, now I am undone! You walk somewhat round. Sweetheart, has nobody been tampering with you else? Think on't, for by this light, I am not worth the estate of an apple-wife. I do live upon commending my lord, the Lord of Hosts knows it, and all the world besides. For me to marry thee will undo thee more ”

“ Scat. By the cross of these hilts, I'll never play at gleek again, whilst I have a nose on my face: I smell the knavery of the game.
Spend. Why, what's the matter? who has lost?
Scat. Marry, that have I. By the hilts of my sword, I have lost forty crowns in as small time almost as a man might tell it.
Spend. Change your game for dice: we are a full number for Novem. [179]
Scat. With all my heart. Where's Master Ambush the broker? Ninnihammer.
Nin. Sir.
Scat. Go to Master Ambush, and bid him send me twenty marks upon this diamond.
Enter Bubble.
Nin. I will, sir. ”

“ How have we offended our fathers, that they should make us the price of their dotage, the medicines of their griefs, that have more need of physic ourselves? I must be frostbitten with the cold of your dad's winter, that mine may thaw his old ice with the spring of your sixteen. I thank my dead mother, that left me a woman's will in her last testament. That's all the weapons we poor girls can use, and with that will I fight 'gainst father, friends, and kindred, and either enjoy Lelio, or die in the field in his quarrel. ”

“ Frank. Nay, that I doubt; young wits love to be trying, and, to say truth, I see not how a woman can deny a man of your youth and person upon those terms: you'll not be known on't now.
Shal. I have kissed her, or so.
Frank. Come, come; I know you are no fool, I should think you a very ass—nay, I tell you plainly, I should be loth to marry my daughter to you—if I thought you had not tried her in so long acquaintance: but you have tried her, and she, poor soul, could not deny you. ”

“ Pan. I rest your servant, sir.
Alb. Let all the stars
Guide you with most propitious influence.
SCENE VIII. Pandolfo, Cricca.
Pan. Here's a strange man indeed, of skill profound!
How right he knew my business, 'fore he saw me!
And how thou scoff'st him, when we talk'd in private!
'Tis a brave instrument, his autocousticon.
Cri. In earnest, sir, I took him for a cheater;
As many, under name of cunning men,
With promise of astrology much abuse
The gaping vulgar, wronging that sacred skill,
That in the stars reads all our actions.
Pan. Are there no arches o'er our heads? Look, Cricca. ”

“ Gervase, give me thy hand: I think thou hast more wit than I, that am thy master; and for this speech only I do here create thee my steward. I do long, methinks, to be at an ordinary: to smile at fortune, and to be bountiful. Gervase, about your business, good Gervase, whilst I go and meditate upon a gentleman-like behaviour. I have an excellent gait already, Gervase, have I not?
Staines. Hercules himself, sir, had never a better gait.
Bub. But despatch, Gervase: the satin and the velvet must be thought upon, and the Tu quoque must not be forgotten ”

“ What age are you, Mistress Mary Princox?
Bold. I will not lie, madam. I have numbered fifty-seven summers, and just so many winters have I passed.
Sub. But they have not passed you; they lie frozen in your face.
Bold. Madam, if it shall please you to entertain me, so; if not, I desire you not to misconstrue my goodwill. There's no harm done; the door's as big as it was, and your ladyship's own wishes crown your beauty with content. As for these frumping gallants, let them do their worst. It is not in man's power to hurt me. 'Tis well known I come not to be scoffed. ”

“ Hog. Peter!
P. Ser. Anon, sir.
Hog. I wonder how Haddit came by that gay suit of clothes; all his means were consumed long since.
P. Ser. Why, sir, being undone himself, he lives by the undoing, or (by Lady!) it may be by the doing, of others—or peradventure both. A decayed gallant may live by anything, if he keep one thing safe.
Hog. Gentlemen, I'll to the scrivener's, to cause these writings to be drawn.
Light. Pray do, sir; we'll now leave you till the morning.
Hog. Nay, you shall stay dinner; I'll return presently. Peter, some beer here for these worshipful gentlemen. ”

“ Well, it shall never be said Jack Pendant would venture his blood in a whore's quarrel. But, whore or no whore, she is most desperately in love with you: praises your head, your face, your nose, your eyes, your mouth: the fire of her commendations makes the pot of your good parts run over; and to conclude, if the whore have you not, I think the pond at Islington will be her bathing-tub, and give an end to mortal misery. But if she belie you——pray, put up, sir; she is an errant whore, and so let her go. ”

“ Sir, 'tis your father's ghost, that strives by force
To break the doors, and enter.
Lel. This! his grave looks!
In every lineament himself no liker.
Had I not happily been advertised,
What could have forc'd me think 'twere Trincalo?
Doubtless th' astrologer hath rais'd a ghost,
That walks in th' reverend shape of my dead father.
Ant. These ghosts, these Trincalos, and astrologers,
Strike me beside myself. Who will receive me,
When mine own son refuseth? O Antonio!
Lel. Infinite power of art! who would believe
The planets' influence could transform a man
To several shapes? ”

“ Ros. Yes, sir; to catch him faster, and more safely.
Pol. How should that be? Speak, man.
Ros. Why thus, my lord?
You know the law speaks death to any man
That steals an heir without her friend's consent:
Thus must he do, his love will prompt him to it.
For he can never hope by your consent
To marry her; and she, 'tis like, will give
Consent, for women's love is violent:
Then mark their passage, you shall easily find
How to surprise them at your will, my lord.
Pol. Thou art my oracle, dear Roscio. ”

“ But what news of Mistress Lucida? ha! will she not come off, nor cannot you come on, little Abraham?
Abra. Faith, I have courted her, and courted her; and she does, as everybody else does, laughs at all I can do or say.
Pen. Laughs; why that's a sign she is pleased. Do you not know, when a woman laughs, she's pleased?
[57]
Abra. Ay, but she laughs most shamefully and most scornfully.
Pen. Scornfully! hang her, she's but a bauble.
Abra. She's the fitter for my turn, sir; for they will not stick to say, I am a fool, for all I am a knight. ”

“ Player. O Lord, sir, far be it from us to debar any worthy writer of his merit; but I pray you, sir, what is the title you bestow upon it?
Had. Marry, that which is full as forcible as garlic: the name of it is, Who buys my four ropes of hard onions? by which four ropes is meant, four several kind of livers; by the onions, hangers-on—as at some convenient time I will more particularly inform you in so rare a hidden and obscure mystery. ”

“ Spend. Dice or drink: here's forty crowns: as long as that will last—anything.
Rash. Why, there spoke a gingling boy.
Spend. A pox of money! 'tis but rubbish; and he that hoards it up is but a scavenger. If there be cards i' the house, let's go to primero.
Rash. Primero! why, I thought thou hadst not been so much gamester as to play at it.
Spend. Gamester! to say truth, I am none; but what is it I will not be in good company? I will fit myself to all humours; I will game with a gamester, drink with a drunkard, be civil with a citizen, fight with a swaggerer, and drab with a whoremaster. ”