The workes of Beniamin Ionson

Act III. Scene V.

TRVE-WIT, MOROSE, EPICOENE

WHere's master MOROSE?

MOR.

Is he come againe! lord haue mercy vpon me.

TRV.

I wish you all ioy, mistris EPICOENE, with your graue and honourable match.

EPI.

I returne you the thankes, master TRVE-WIT, so friendly a wish deserues.

MOR.

She has acquaintance, too!

TRV

God saue you, sir, and giue you all contentment in your faire choise, here. Before I was the bird of night to you, the owle but now I am the messenger of peace, a doue, and bring you the glad wishes of many friends, to the celebration of this good houre.

MOR.

What houre, sir?

TRV.

Your marriage houre sir. I commend your resolution, that (notwithstanding all the dangers I laid afore you, in the voice of a night-crow) would yet goe on, and bee your selfe. It shewes you are a man con∣stant to your own ends, and vpright to your purposes, that would not be put off with left-handed cries.

MOR.

How should you arriue at the knowledge of so much!

TRV.

Why, did you euer hope, sir, committing the secrecie of it to a barber, that lesse then the whole towne should know it? you might as well ha' told it the conduit, or the bake-house, or the infant'ry that follow the court, and with more securitie. Could your grauitie forget so olde and noted a remnant, as lippis & tonsoribus notum. Well sir, forgiue it your selfe now, the fault, and be communicable with your friends. Here will bee three or foure fashionable ladies, from the colledge to visit you presently, and their traine of minions, and followers.

MOR.

Barre my dores! barre my dores! where are all my eaters? my mouthes now? barre vp my dores, you varlets.

EPI.

He is a varlet, that stirres to such an office. Let 'hem stand open.

I would see him that dares mooue his eyes toward it. Shal I haue a barri∣cado made against my friends, to be barr'd of any pleasure they can bring in to me with honorable visitation.

MOR.

O Amazonian impudence!

TRV.

Nay faith, in this, sir, she speakes but reason: and me thinkes is more continent then you. Would you goe to bed so presently, sir, a∣fore noone? a man of your head, and haire, should owe more to that re∣ueuerend ceremony, and not mount the marriage-bed, like a towne-bul, or a mountaine-goate; but stay the due season; and ascend it then with religion, and feare. Those delights are to be steep'd in the humor, and si∣lence of the night; and giue the day to other open pleasures, and jollities of feast, or musique, of reuells, of discourse: wee'll haue all, sir, that may make your Hymen high, and happy.

MOR.

O, my torment, my torment!

TRV.

Nay, if you indure the first halfe houre, sir, so tediously, and with this irksomnesse; what comfort, or hope, can this faire gentlewo∣man make to her selfe hereafter, in the consideration of so many yeeres as are to come—

MOR.

Of my affliction. Good sir, depart, and let her doe it alone.

TRV.

I haue done, sir.

MOR.

That cursed barber!

TRV.

(Yes faith, a cursed wretch indeed, sir.)

MOR.

I haue married his citterne, that's common to all men. Some plague, aboue the plague—

TRV.

(All Egypts ten plagues)

MOR.

Reuenge me on him.

TRV.

'Tis very well, sir. If you laid on a curse or two, more, I'll as∣sure you hee'll beare 'hem. As, that he may get the poxe with seeking to cure it, sir? Or, that while he is curling another mans haire, his owne may drop off? Or, for burning some male-baudes lock, he may haue his braine beat out with the curling-iron?

MOR.

No, let the wretch liue wretched. May he get the itch, and his shop so lousie, as no man dare come at him, nor he come at no man.

TRV.

(I, and if he would swallow all his balles for pills, let not them purge him)

MOR.

Let his warning pan be euer cold.

TRV.

(A perpertuall frost vnderneath it, sir)

MOR.

Let him neuer hope to see fire againe.

TRV.

(But in hell, sir)

MOR.

His chaires be alwaies empty, his scissors rust, and his combes mould in their cases.

TRV.

Very dreadfull that! (And may hee loose the inuention, sir, of caruing lanternes in paper)

MOR.

Let there be no baud carted that yeere, to employ a bason of his: but let him be glad to eate his sponge, for bread.

TRV.

And drinke lotium to it, and much good doe him.

MOR.

Or, for want of bread—

TRV.

Eat eare-waxe, sir. I'll helpe you. Or, draw his owne teeth, and adde them to the lute-string.

MOR.

No, beate the old ones to poulder, and make bread of them.

TRV.

(Yes, make meale o'the millstones.)

MOR.

May all the botches, and burnes, that he has cur'd on others, breake out vpon him.

TRV.

And he now forget the cure of 'hem in himselfe, sir: or, if he do remember it, let him ha' scrap'd all his linnen into lint for't, and haue not a rag left him, to set vp with.

MOR.

Let him neuer set vp againe, but haue the gout in his hands for euer. Now, no more, sir.

TRV.

O that last was too high set! you might goe lesse with him i'faith, and bee reueng'd enough: as, that he be neuer able to new-paint his pole—

MOR.

Good sir, no more. I forgot my selfe.

TRV.

Or, want credit to take vp with a combe-maker—

MOR.

No more, sir.

TRV.

Or, hauing broken his glasse in a former despaire, fall now into a much greater, of euer getting another—

MOR.

I beseech you, no more.

TRV.

Or, that he neuer be trusted with trimming of any but chim∣ney-sweepers —

MOR.

Sir—

TRV.

Or, may he cut a colliers throat with his rasor, by chance-med∣lee, and yet hang for't.

MOR.

I will forgiue him, rather then heare any more. I beseech you, sir.