The workes of Beniamin Ionson

Act II.

Scene I.

ALEIVS, CRISPINVS, CHLOE, MAYDES, CYTHERIS.

MAster CRISPINVS, you are welcome: Pray', vse a stoole, sir. Your cousin CYTHERIS will come downe presently. Wee are so busie for the receiuing of these courtiers here, that I can scarce be a minute with my selfe, for thinking of them: Pray you sit, sir, Pray you sit, sir.

CRIS.

I am verie well, sir. Ne're trust me, but you are most delicately seated here, full of sweet delight and blandishment! an excellent ayre, an excellent ayre!

ALEI.

I, sir, 'tis prettie ayre. These courtiers runne in my minde still; I must looke out: for IVPITERS sake, sit, sir. Or please you walke into the garden? There's a garden on the back-side.

CRIS.

I am most strenuously well, I thanke you, sir.

ALEI.

Much good doe you, sir.

CHLO.

Come, bring those perfumes forward a little, and strew some roses, and violets here; Fye, here bee roomes sauour the most pittifully ranke that euer I felt: I crie the gods mercie, my husband's in the winde of vs.

ALEI.

Why, this is good, excellent, excellent: well said, my sweet CHLOE. Trimme vp your house most obsequiously.

CHLO.

For VVLCANVS sake, breathe somewhere else: in troth you ouercome our perfumes exceedingly, you are too predominant.

ALEI.

Heare but my opinion, sweet wife.

CHLO.

A pinne for your pinnion. In sinceritie, if you be▪ thus ful∣some to me in euerie thing, I'le bee diuore't; Gods my bodie? you know what you were, before I married you; I was a gentlewoman borne, I; I lost all my friends to be a citizens wife; because I heard indeed, they kept their wiues as fine as ladies; and that wee might rule our husbands, like ladies; and doe what wee listed: doe you thinke I would haue married you, else?

ALBI.

I acknowledge, sweet wife, she speakes the best of any woman in Italy, and mooues as mightily: which makes me, I had rather she should make bumpes on my head, as big as my two singers, then I would offend her. But sweet wife—

CHLO.

Yet againe? I'st not grace inough for you, that I call you husband, and you call me wife: but you must still bee poking mee, against my will, to things?

ALBI.

But you know, wife; here are the greatest ladies, and gallan∣test gentlemen of ROME, to bee entertain'd in our house now: and I would faine aduise thee, to entertaine them in the best sort, yfaith wife.

CHLO.

In sinceritie, did you euer heare a man talke so idlely? You would seeme to be master? You would haue your spoke in my cart? you would aduise me to entertaine ladies, and gentlemen? because you can marshall your pack-needles, horse-combes, hobby-horses, and wall-can∣dlestickes in your ware-house better then I; therefore you can tell how to entertaine ladies, and gentle-folkes better then I?

ALBI.

O my sweet wife, vpbraid me not with that: "Gaine sauours sweetly from any thing; He that respects to get, must relish all commo∣dities alike; and admit no difference betwixt oade, and frankincense; or the most precious balsamum, and a tar-barrell.

CHLO.

Mary fough: You sell snuffers too, if you be remembred, but I pray you let mee buy them out of your hand; for I tell you true, I take it highly in snuffe, to learne how to entertaine gentlefolkes, of you, at these yeeres, I faith. Alas man; there was not a gentleman came to your house i' your tother wiues time, I hope? nor a ladie? nor musique? nor masques? Nor you, nor your house were so much as spoken of, before I disbast my selfe, from my hood and my fartingall, to these bumrowles, and your whale-bone-bodies.

ALBI.

Looke here, my sweet wife; I am mum, my deare mummia, my balsamum, my spermacete, and my verie citie of—shee has the most best, true, feminine wit in ROME!

CRIS.

I haue heard so, sir; and doe most vehemently desire to parti∣cipate the knowledge of her faire features.

ALBI.

Ah, peace; you shall heare more anon: bee not seene yet, I pray you; not yet: Obserue.

CHLO.

'Sbodie, giue husbands the head a little more, and they'll bee nothing but head shortly; whats he there?

MAYD. 1.

I know not forsooth.

MAYD. 2.

Who would you speake with, sir?

CRIS.

I would speake with my cousin CYTHERIS.

MAYD.

Hee is one forsooth would speake with his cousin CY∣THERIS.

CHLO.

Is she your cousin, sir?

CRIS.

Yes in truth, forsooth, for fault of a better.

CHLO.

Shee is a gentlewoman?

CRIS.

Or else she should not be my cousin, I assure you.

CHLO.

Are you a gentleman borne?

CRIS.

That I am, ladie; you shall see mine armes, if 't please you.

CHLO.

No, your legges doe sufficiently shew you are a gentleman borne, sir: for a man borne vpon little legges, is alwayes a gentleman borne.

CRIS.

Yet, I pray you, vouchsafe the sight of my armes, Mistresse; for I beare them about me, to haue 'hem seene: my name is CRISPINVS, or CRI-SPINAS indeed; which is well exprest in my armes, (a Face crying in chiefe; and beneath it a blouddie Toe, betweene three Thornes pungent.)

CHLO.

Then you are welcome, sir; now you are a gentleman borne, I can find in my heart to welcome you: for I am a gentlewoman borne too; and will beare my head high inough, though 'twere my fortune to marrie a trades-man.

CRIS.

No doubt of that, sweet feature, your carriage shewes it in a∣ny mans eye, that is carried vpon you with iudgement.

ALBI.

Hee is still going in and out.

Deare wife, be not angry.

CHLO.

God's my passion!

ALBI.

Heare me but one thing; let not your maydes set cushions in the parlor windowes; nor in the dyning-chamber windowes; nor vpon stooles, in eyther of them, in any case; for 'tis tauerne-like; but lay them one vpon another, in some out-roome, or corner of the dyning-chamber.

CHLO.

Goe, goe, meddle with your bed-chamber onely, or rather with your bed in your chamber, onely; or rather with your wife in your bed onely; or on my faith, I'le not be pleas'd with you onely.

ALBI.

Looke here, my deare wife, entertaine that gentleman kindly, I pre' thee,—mum.

CHLO.

Goe, I need your instructions indeede; anger mee no more, I aduise you. Citi-sin, quoth'a! she's a wise gentlewoman yfaith, will mar∣rie her selfe to the sinne of the citie.

ALBI.

But this time, and no more (by heauen) wife: hang no pi∣ctures in the hall, nor in the dyning-chamber, in any case, but in the gallerie onely, for 'tis not courtly else, o' my word, wife.

CHLO.

'Sprecious, neuer haue done!

ALBI.

Wife.—

CHLO.

Doe I not beare a reasonable corrigible hand ouer him, CRI∣SPINVS?

CRIS.

By this hand, ladie, you hold a most sweet hand ouer him.

ALBI.

And then for the great gilt andyrons?—

CHLO.

Againe! would the andyrons were in your great guttes, for mee.

ALBI.

I doe vanish, wife.

CHLO.

How shall I doe, Master CRISPINVS? here will bee all the brauest ladies in court presently, to see your cousin CYTHERIS: Ô the

gods! how might I behaue my selfe now, as to entertayne them most courtly?

CRIS.

Mary, ladie, if you will entertaine them most courtly, you must doe thus: as soone as euer your maide, or your man brings you word they are come; you must say (A poxe on 'hem, what doe they here.) And yet when they come, speake them as faire, and giue them the kindest wel∣come in wordes, that can be.

CHLO.

Is that the fashion of courtiers, CRISPINVS?

CRIS.

I assure you, it is, ladie, I haue obseru'd it.

CHLO.

For your poxe, sir, it is easily hit on; but, 'tis not so easily to speake faire after, me thinkes?

ALBI.

O wife, the coaches are come, on my word, a number of coaches, and courtiers.

CHLO.

A poxe on them: what doe they here?

ALBI.

How now wife! wouldst thou not haue 'hem come?

CHLO.

Come? come, you are a foole, you: He knowes not the trick on't. Call CYTHERIS, I pray you: and good master CRISPINVS, you can obserue, you say; let me intreat you for all the ladies behauiours, ie∣wels, iests, and attires, that you marking as well as I, we may put both our markes together, when they are gone, and conferre of them.

CRIS.

I warrant you, sweet ladie; let mee alone to obserue, till I turne my selfe to nothing but obseruation. Good morrow cousin CYTHERIS.

CYTH.

Welcome kind cousin. What? are they come?

ALBI.

I, your friend CORNELIVS GALLVS, OVID, TIBVLLVS, PROPERTIVS, with IVLIA the Emperors daughter, and the ladie PLAV∣TIA, are lighted at the dore; and with them HERMOGENES TIGEL∣LIVS, the excellent musician.

CYTH.

Come, let vs goe meet them, CHLOE.

CHLO.

Obserue, CRISPINVS.

CRIS.

At a haires breadth, ladie, I warrant you.

Act II. Scene II.

GALLVS, OVID, TIBVLLVS, PROPERTIVS, HERMOGENES, IVLIA, PLAVTIA, CYTHERIS, CHLOE, ALBIVS, CRISPINVS.

HEalth to the louely CHLOE: you must pardon me, Mistris, that I preferre this faire gentlewoman.

CYTH.

I pardon, and praise you for it, sir; and I beseech your Excellence, receiue her beauties into your knowledge and fauour.

IVLI.

CYTHERIS, shee hath fauour, and behauiour, that commands as much of me: and sweet CHLOE, know I doe exceedingly loue you, and

that I will approue in any grace my father the Emperour may shew you. Is this your husband?

ALBI.

For fault of a better, if it please your highnesse.

CHLO.

Gods my life! how hee shames mee!

CYTH.

Not a whit, CHLOE, they all thinke you politike, and wittie; wise women choose not husbands for the eye, merit, or birth, but wealth, and soueraigntie.

OVID.

Sir, we all come to gratulate, for the good report of you.

TIBV.

And would be glad to deserue your loue, sir.

ALBI.

My wife will answere you all, gentlemen; I'le come to you a∣gaine presently.

PLAV.

You haue chosen you a most faire companion here, CYTHE∣RIS, and a very faire house.

CYTH.

To both which, you and all my friends, are very welcome, PLAVTIA.

CHLO.

With all my heart, I assure your ladiship.

PLAV.

Thankes, sweet Mistris CHLOE.

IVLI.

You must needes come to court, ladie, yfaith, and there bee sure your welcome shall be as great to vs.

OVID.

Shee will well deserue it, Madame. I see, euen in her lookes, gentrie, and generall worthinesse.

TIBV.

I haue not seene a more certaine character of an excellent disposition.

ALBI.

Wife.

CHLO.

O, they doe so commend me here, the courtiers! what's the matter now?

ALBI.

For the banquet, sweet wife.

CHLO.

Yes; and I must needs come to court, and bee welcome, the Princesse sayes.

GALL.

OVID, and TIBVLLVS, you may bee bold to welcome your Mistresses here.

OVID.

We find it so, sir.

TIBV.

And thanke CORNELIVS GALLVS.

OVID.

Nay, my sweet SEXTVS, in faith thou art not sociable.

PROP.

In faith, I am not, PVBLIVS; nor I cannot. Sicke mindes, are like sicke men that burne with feuers, Who when they drinke, please but a present tast, And after beare a more impatient fit. Pray, let me leaue you; I offend you all, And my selfe most.

GALL.

Stay, sweet PROPERTIVS.

TIBV.

You yeeld too much vnto your grieues, and sate, Which neuer hurts, but when we say it hurts vs.

PROP.

O peace, TIBVLLVS; your philosophie Lends you too rough a hand to search my wounds. Speake they of griefes, that know to sigh, and grieue;

The free and vnconstrained spirit feeles No weight of my oppression.

OVID.

Worthy Roman! Me thinkes I taste his miserie; and could Sit downe, and chide at his malignant starres.

IVLI.

Me thinkes I loue him, that he loues so truely.

CYTH.

This is the perfect'st loue, liues after death.

GALL.

Such is the constant ground of vertue still.

PLAV.

It puts on an inseparable face.

CHLO.

Haue you markt euery thing, CRISPINVS?

CRIS.

Euery thing, I warrant you.

CHLO.

What gentlemen are these? doe you know them?

CRIS.

I, they are poets, lady.

CHLO.

Poets? they did not talke of me since I went, did they?

CRIS.

O yes, and extold your perfections to the heauens.

CHLO.

Now in sinceritie, they be the finest kind of men, that euer I knew: Poets? Could not one get the Emperour to make my husband a Poet, thinke you?

CRIS.

No, ladie, 'tis loue, and beautie make Poets: and since you like Poets so well, your loue, and beauties shall make me a Poet.

CHLO.

What shall they? and such a one as these?

CRIS.

I, and a better then these: I would be sorry else.

CHLO.

And shall your lookes change? and your haire change? and all, like these?

CRIS.

Why, a man may be a Poet, and yet not change his haire, lady.

CHLO.

Well, wee shall see your cunning: yet if you can change your haire, I pray, doe.

ALBI.

Ladies, and lordings, there's a slight banquet staies within for you, please you draw neere, and accost it.

IVLI.

We thanke you, good ALBIVS: but when shall wee see those excellent iewels you are commended to haue?

ALBI.

At your ladiships seruice. I got that speech by seeing a play last-day, and it did me some grace now: I see, 'tis good to collect some∣times; I'le frequent these plaies more then I haue done, now I come to be familiar with courtiers.

GALL.

Why, how now, HERMOGENES? what ailest thou trow?

HERM.

A little melancholy, let me alone, pray thee.

GALL.

Melancholy! how so?

HERM.

With riding: a plague on all coaches for me.

CHLO.

Is that hard-fauour'd gentleman a poet too; CYTHERIS?

CYTH.

No; this is HERMOGENES, as humorous as a poet though: he is at Musician.

CHLO.

A Musician? then he can sing.

CYTH.

That he can excellently; did you neuer heare him?

CHLO.

O no: will he be intreated, thinke you?

CYTH.

I know not. Friend, Mistresse CHLOE would faine heare

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HERMOGENES sing: are you interested in him?

GALL.

No doubt, his owne humanitie will command him so farre, to the satisfaction of so faire a beautie; but rather then faile, weele all bee suiters to him.

HERM.

'Cannot sing.

GALL.

Pray thee, HERMOGENES.

HERM.

'Cannot sing.

GALL.

For honour of this gentlewoman, to whose house, I know thou maist be euer welcome.

CHLO.

That he shall in truth, sir, if he can sing.

OVID.

What's that?

GALL.

This gentlewoman is wooing HERMOGENES for a song.

OVID.

A song▪ come, he shall not denie her. HERMOGENES?

HERM.

'Cannot sing.

GALL.

No, the ladies must doe it, hee staies but to haue their thankes acknowledg'd as a debt to his cunning.

IVLI.

That shall not want: our selfe will be the first shall promise to pay him more then thankes, vpon a fauour so worthily vouchsaft.

HERM.

Thanke you, Madame, but 'will not sing.

TIBV.

Tut, the onely way to winne him, is to abstaine from intrea∣ting him.

CRIS.

Doe you loue singing, ladie?

CHLO.

O, passingly.

CRIS.

Intreat the ladies, to intreat me to sing then, I beseech you.

CHLO.

I beseech your grace, intreat this gentleman to sing.

IVLI.

That we will CHLOE; can he sing excellently?

CHLO.

I thinke so, Madame: for he intreated me, to intreat you, to intreat him to sing.

CRIS.

Heauen, and earth! would you tell that?

IVLI.

Good sir, let's intreat you to vse your voice.

CRIS.

Alas, Madame, I cannot in truth.

PLAV.

The gentleman is modest: I warrant you, he sings excellently.

OVID.

HERMOGENES, cleere your throat: I see by him, here's a gen∣tleman will worthily challenge you.

CRIS.

Not I, sir, I'le challenge no man.

TIBV.

That's your modestie, sir: but wee, out of an assurance of your excellencie, challenge him in your behalfe.

CRIS.

I thanke you, gentlemen, I'le doe my best.

HERM.

Let that best be good, sir, you were best.

GALL.

O, this contention is excellent. What is't you sing, sir?

CRIS.

If I freely may discouer, &c. Sir, I'le sing that.

OVID.

One of your owne compositions, HERMOGENES. He offers you vantage enough.

CRIS.

Nay truely, gentlemen, I'le challenge no man—: I can sing but one staffe of the dittie neither.

GALL.

The better: HERMOGENES himselfe will bee intreated to sing the other.

SONG.

IF I freely may discouer, What would please me in my louer: I would haue her faire, and wittie, Sauouring more of court, then cittie; A little proud, but full of pittie: Light, and humorous in her toying. Oft building hopes, and soone destroying, Long, but sweet in the enioying, Neither too easie, nor too hard: All extremes I would haue bard.

GALL.

Beleeue me, sir, you sing most excellently.

OVID.

If there were a praise aboue excellence, the gentleman highly deserues it.

HERM.

Sir, all this doth not yet make mee enuie you: for I know I sing better then you.

TIBV.

Attend HERMOGENES, now.

2.

Shee should be allowed her passions, So they were but vs'd as fashions; Sometimes froward, and then frowning, Sometimes sickish, and then swowning, Euery ••it, with change, still crowning. Purely iealous, I would haue her, Then onely constant when I craue her. 'Tis a vertue should not saue her. Thus, nor her delicates would cloy me, Neither her peenishnesse annoy me.

IVLI.

Nay, HERMOGENES, your merit hath long since beene both knowne, and admir'd of vs.

HERM.

You shall heare me sing another: now will I begin.

GALL.

We shall doe this gentlemans banquet too much wrong, that staies for vs, ladies.

IVLI.

'Tis true: and well thought on, CORNELIVS GALLVS.

HERM.

Why 'tis but a short aire, 'twill be done presently, pray' stay; strike musique.

OVID.

No, good HERMOGENES: wee'll end this difference within.

IVLI.

'Tis the common disease of all your musicians, hat they know no meane, to be intreated, either to begin, or end.

ALBI.

Please you lead the way, gentles?

AL••.

Thankes, good ALBIVS.

ALBI.

O, what a charme of thankes was here put vpon me! O IOVE, what a setting forth it is to a man, to haue many courtiers come to his house! Sweetly was it said of a good olde house-keeper; I had rather want meate, then want ghests: specially, if they be courtly ghests. For, neuer trust me, if one of their good legges made in a house, be not worth all the good cheere, a man can make them. Hee that would haue fine ghests, let him haue a ••••ne wife; he that would haue a fine wife, let him come to me.

CRIS.

By your kind leaue, Master ALBIVS.

ALBI.

What, you are not gone, Master CRISPINVS?

CRIS.

Yes faith, I haue a desseigne drawes me hence: pray' sir, fashion mean excuse to the ladies.

ALBI.

Will you not stay? and see the iewels, sir? I pay you stay.

CRIS.

Not for a million, sir, now; Let it suffice, I must relinquish; and so in a word, please you to expiate this complement.

ALBI.

Mum.

CRIS.

He presently goe and enghle some broker, for a Poets gowne, and bespeake a garland: and then ieweller, looke to your best iewell ysaith.