The workes of Beniamin Ionson

Act IIII. Scene X.

KNO'WEL, TIB, CASH, DAME KITELY, KITELY, COB.

OH, here it is, I am glad: I haue found it now. Ho? who is within, here?

TIB.

I am within, sir, what's your pleasure?

KNO.

To know, who is within, besides your selfe.

TIB.

Why, sir, you are no constable, I hope?

KNO.

O! feare you the constable? then, I doubt not. You haue some guests within, deserue that feare, Ile fetch him straight.

TIB.

O' gods name, sir.

KNO.

Goe to. Come, tell me, Is not yong KNO'WEL, here?

TIB.

Yong KNO-WELL? I know none such, sir, o' mine honestie!

KNO.

Your honestie? dame, it flies too lightly from you: There is no way, but, fetch the constable.

TIB.

The constable? the man is mad, I thinke.

CAS.

Ho, who keepes house, here?

KNO.

O, this is the female copes-mate of my sonne? Now shall I meet him straight.

DAME.

Knock, THOMAS, hand.

CAS.

Ho, good wife?

TIB.

Why, what's the matter with you?

DAME.

Why, woman, grieues it you to ope' your doore? Belike, you get something, to keepe it shut.

TIB.

What meane these questions, 'pray yee?

DAME.

So strange you make it? is not my husband, here?

KNO.

Her husband!

DAME.

My tryed husband, master KITELY.

TIB.

I hope, he needes not to betryed, here.

DAME.

No, dame: he do's it not for need, but pleasure.

TIB.

Neither for need, nor pleasure, is he here.

KNO.

This is but a deuice, to balke me withall. Soft, who is this? 'Tis not my sonne, disguisd?

DAME.

Shee spies her husband come: and runnes to him.

O, sir, haue I fore-stald your honest market? Found your close walkes? you stand amaz'd, now, doe you? I faith (I am glad) I haue smokt you yet at last! What is your iewell trow? In: come, lets see her; (Fetch forth your huswife, dame) if shee be fairer, In any honest iudgement, then my selfe, Ile be content with it: but, shee is change, Shee feedes you fat, shee soothes your appetite,

And you are well? your wife, an honest woman, Is meat twice sod to you, sir? O, you trecher!

KNO.

Shee cannot counterfeit thus palpably.

KITE.

Out on thy more then strumpets impudence! Steal'st thou thus to thy haunts? and, haue I taken Thy bawd, and thee, and thy companion,

Pointing to old Knowell.

This horie-beaded letcher, this old goat, Close at your villanie, and would'st thou 'scuse it, With this stale harlots iest, accusing me?

To him.

O, old incontinent, do'st not thou shame, When all thy powers in chastitie is spent, To haue a mind so hot? and to entice, And feede th'enticements of a lustfull woman?

DAME.

Out, I defie thee, I, dissembling wretch.

KITE.

By Thomas.

Defie me, strumpet? aske thy pandar, here, Can be denie it? or that wicked older?

KNO.

Why, heare you, sir.

KITE.

Tut, tut, tut: neuer speake. Thy guiltie conscience will discouer thee.

KNO.

What lunacie is this, that hants this man?

KITE.

Well, good-wife BA'D, COBS wife; and you, That make your husband such a hoddie-doddie; And you, yong apple-squire; and old ouckold-maker; He ha'you euery one before a Iustice: Nay, you shall answere it, I charge you goe.

KNO.

Marie, with all my heart, sir: I goe willingly. Though I doe tast this as a trick, put on me, To punish my impertinent search; and iustly: And halfe forgiue my sonne, for the deuice.

KITE.

Come, will you goe?

DAME.

Goe? to thy shame, beleeue it.

COB.

Why, what's the matter, here? What's here to doe?

KITE.

O, COB, art thou come? I haue beene abus'd, And i' thy house. Neuer was man so, wrong'd!

COB.

Slid, in my house? my master KITELY? Who wrongs you in my house?

KITE.

Marie, yong lust in old; and old in yong, here: Thy wife's their bawd, here haue I taken 'hem.

COB.

He falls vpon his wife and beates her.

How? bawd? Is my house come to that? Am I prefer'd the∣ther? Did I charge you to keepe your dores shut, Is 'BEL? and doe you let 'hem lie open for all commers?

KNO.

Friend know some cause, before thou beat'st thy wife, This 's madnesse, in thee.

COB.

Why? is there no cause?

KITE.

Yes, Ile shew cause before the Iustice, COB:

Come, let her goe with me.

COB.

Nay, shee shall goe.

TIB.

Nay, I will goe. Ile see, an' you may bee allow'd to make a bundle o' hempe, o' your right and lawfull wife thus, at euery cuckoldly knaues pleasure. Why doe you not goe?

KITE.

A bitter queane. Come, wee'll ha' you tam'd.