The scornful ladie A comedie. As it was acted (with great applause) by the Children of Her Maiesties Reuels in the Blacke Fryers. Written byFra. Beaumont and Io. Fletcher, Gent.

Scaena prima.

Enter Abigall s•…•…lus.

Abi.

A Lasse poore Gentlewoman, to what a misery hath age brought thee to? to what scuruy Fortune? thou that hast beene a companion for Noble men, & at the worst of those times for Gentlemen: now like a broken Seruingman, must begge for fauour to those that would haue crawl'd like Pilgrims to my chamber, hut for an apperition of me: you that bee comming on, make much of fifteene, and so till fiue and twenty: vse y•…•…ur time with reuerence, that your profit may arise: it will not tarry with you Ec•…•…e si•…•…num: here was a face, but time that like a su•…•…set eates our youth, plague of his Iron teeth, and draw vm for't, h'as been a little bolder here then vvelcome: and now to say the truth I am fit for no man. Old men i'〈◊〉〈◊〉 house, of fiftie, call me Granam; and vvhen they are drunke, e'ene then, when Ione and my Lady are all one, not one vvill doe me reason. My little L•…•…uite hath forsaken

me, his siluer sound of Cytterne quite abolish't, his dolefull hymmes vnder my chamber vvindow, digested into tedious learning: well foole, you leap't a Haddock when you left him: hee's a cleane man, & a good Ed•…•…fier, & twēty nobles is his state de Claro, besides his pigges in posse. To this good Homilist I haue beene euer stub∣borne, which God forgiue me for, and mend my manners: and Loue, if euer thou hadst care of fortie, of such a peece of lape ground, heare my prayer, and fire his zeale so farre forth that my faults, in this renued impressi•…•… of my loue, may shew corrected to our gentle Reader.

Enter Roger.

See how neglectingly he passes by me: vvith vvhat an Equipage Canonicall, as though he had broke the heart of Bellarmine, or ad∣ded some thing to the singing Brethren. Tis scorne, I know it, and dese•…•…ue it. M^r. Rogor.

Ro.

Faire Gentlewoman, my name is Roger.

Abi.

Then gentle Roger.

Ro.

Vngentle Abigall.

Abi.

VVhy M^r. Reger will you set your wit to a weak womans.

Ro.

You are weake indeed: for so the Poet sings.

Abi.

I doe confesse my weaknesse sweet Sir Roger.

Ro.

Good my Ladies Gentlewoman, or my •…•…ood Ladies Gen∣tlewoman (this trope is lost to you now) leaue your prating, you haue a season of your first Mother in yee: and surely had the diuel beene in loue, he had beene abused too, goe Dalid•…•…; you make men fooles, and weare figge breeches.

Abi.

VVell, well, hard hearted man; dilate vpon the weake infirmities of w•…•…men: these are fit texts: but •…•…ce there was a time, would I had neuer seene those eies, those eies, those orient eies.

Ro.

I they were pearles once with you.

Abi.

Sauing your reuerence Sir, so they are still.

Ro.

Nay, nay, I doe beseech you leaue your cogging, what they ate, they are, they serue me without Spectacles I thanke vm,

Abi.

O will you kill me?

Ro.

I doe not thinke I can, Y'are like a Coppy-hold with nine liues in't.

Abi.

You were wont to beare a Christian feare about you: For your owne VVorships sake.

Ro.

I was a Christian foole then: Doe you remember what a dance you led me? how I grew quaum'd in loue, and was a dunce?

could expound but once a quarter, & then was out too: and then at prayers once (out of the stinking stir you put me in) I praid for mine owne royall issue. You doe remember all this?

Abi.

O be as then you were.

Ro.

I thanke you for it; surely I vvil be wiser Abigall: and as the Ethnick Poet sings, I wil not loose my oile and labour too. Y'are for the worshipfull I take it Abigall.

Abi.

O take it so, and then I am for thee.

Ro.

I like these teares well, and this humbling also, they are Symptomes of contrition, as a Father saith. If I should fall into my fit againe, would you not shake me into a quotidian Coxcombe? Would you not vse me scuruily againe, and giue me possets with purging comsets in't? I tel thee Gentlewoman, thou hast been har∣der to me then a long chapter with a pedigree.

Abi.

O Curate cure me: I will loue thee better, dearer, lon∣ger, I wil doe anything, betray the secrets of the maine house∣hold to thy reformation. My Ladie shall looke louely on thy learning; and when true time shal point thee for a Parson, I will ennuert thy egs to penny custards, and thy tythe goose shall grase and multiplie.

Ro.

I am mollified: as wel shal testifie this faithful kisse: and haue a great care Mistres, Abigall, how you depresse the spirit any more with your rebukes and mo•…•…kes: for certainely the edge of such a folly cuts it selfe.

Abi.

O sir you haue pierst me thorow. Heere I vow a recan∣tation to those malitious faults I euer did against you. Neuer more will I despise your learning neuer more pin cardes and cunny tailes vpon your Cassock, neuer againe reproach your reuerend night∣cap, and cal it by the mangie name of murrin, neuer your reuerend person more, and say, you looke like one of Baals Priests a han∣ging; neuer againe, when you say grace, laugh at you, no•…•… put you out at prayers: neuer crampe you more with the great Booke of Martyrs; nor when you ride, get sope and thistles for you. No my Roger, these faults shall be corrected and amended, as by the tenor of my teares appeares.

Ro.

Now cannot I hold if I should bee hang'd, I must crie to. Come to thine own beloued, & doe euen what thou wilt withme, sweet, sweet, Abi. I am thine own for •…•…uer: heers my hand, whē Ro. proues a recreant, hang him i'th Bel-ropes.

Ent. La. and Mar.

La.

Why how now M^r. Roger, no prayers downe with you to night? did you heare the bell ring? You are courting, your slock shall fat well for it.

Ro.

I humblie aske your pardon: Ile clap vp Praiers (but staic a little) and be with you againe.

Ex. Roger. Ent. El. Lo.

La.

How dare you being so vnworthie a Fellow, Presume to come to moue me anie more?

El. Lo.

Ha, ha, ha.

La.

What ailes the fellow.

Eld. Lo.

The fellow comes to laugh at you. I tell you Lady, I would not for your Land, be such a Coxecome, such a whining Asse, as you decreed me for when I was last heere.

La.

I ioy to heare you are wise Sir, tis a rare Iewell In an elder Brother: praye be wiser yet.

El. Lo.

Me thinks I am very wise: I doe not come a woeing; Indeed Ile moue no more loue to your Ladiship.

La.

What make you heere then?

El. Lo.

Onely to see you, and be merry Ladie: thats all my bu∣sinesse. Faith lets be verie merrie. Wher's little Roger? he's a good fellow: an hower or two well spent in wholsome mirth is worth a thousand of these puling passions. Tis an ill world for Louers.

La.

They were neuer fewer.

El. Lo.

I thanke God ther's one lesse for me Ladie.

La.

You were neuer any Sir.

El. Lo.

Till now; and now, I am the prettiest fellow.

La.

You talke like a Taylor Sir.

El. Lo.

Me thinkes your faces are no such fine things now.

La.

Why did you tell mee you were wise. Lord what a lying age is this, where wil you mend these faces?

El. Lo.

A hogs face soust is worth a hundred of vm.

La.

Sure you had some Sow to your Mother.

El. Lo.

She brought such fine white pigs as you: fit for none but Parsons Ladie.

La.

Tis wel you will alow vs our Cleargie yet.

El. Lo.

That shall not saue you. O that I were in loue againe with a wish.

La.

By this light you are a scuruy fellowe, praye be gone.

El. Lo.

You know I am a cleane skind man.

La.

Do I know it?

El. Lo.

Come, come, you would know it; thats as good: but

not a snap, neuer long for't, not a snap dea•…•…e Lady.

La.

Harke ye Sir, ha•…•…ke ve, get ye to the Suburbs, there's horse∣flesh for such hounds: will you goe Sir?

El. lo.

Lord, how I l•…•…u'd this woman, how I worshipt this pret∣ty calfe with the white face heere: as I liue, you were the prettiest foole to play withall, the wittiest little varlet, it would talke: Lord how it talk•…•…; and when I angred it, it woul•…•… cry out, and scratch, and eate no meate, and yet would say, Goe hang.

La.

It will say so still, if you anger it.

El. lo.

And when I askt it, if it would be married, it sent mee of an errant into France: and would abuse me, and be gladi•…•… it did so.

La.

Sir, this is most vnmanly, 'pray begone.

El. Lo.

And tw•…•…e (euen when it twitterd to be a•…•… me) I was vnha•…•…some.

La.

Haue you no manners in you?

El. Lo.

And say my backe was melted, when the gods knowes 〈◊〉〈◊〉 kept it at a cha•…•…ge: Feure Flaunders Mares would haue beene easier to me, and a Fencer.

La.

You thinke all this is true now.

El. Lo.

Faith whether it be or no, 'tis too good for you. But so much for our mirth: Now haue at you in earnest.

La.

There is enough Sir, I desire no 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

El. lo.

Yes faith, weele haue a cast at your best parts now, And •…•…en the diuell take the worst.

La.

Pray Sir •…•…o more, I am not much affected with your com∣•…•…dations: tis almost dinner, I know they stay you at the Ordinary.

El. lo.

E'•…•…ne a short Grace, and then I am gone: You are a wo∣man, and the prou•…•…st that euer lou'd a C•…•…ach: the scornfull•…•…st, scuru•…•…t, and most 〈◊〉〈◊〉 woman; the greediest to be prays'd, and neuer mou'd, though it be gro•…•…e and open; the most enuious, that at the poore f•…•…me of anothers face, would eate your owne, •…•…nd more then is your owne, the p•…•…int b•…•…nging to it: of such a selfe opinion, that you thi•…•…ke none can dese•…•…ue your gloue: and for your mali•…•…e, you are so exce•…•…ent, you might haue beene your Tempters tutor: Nay, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 c•…•…y.

La.

Your owne hea•…•…t knowes you wrong me: I cry for ye?

El. lo.

You shall before I leaue you

La.

Is all this spoke in ca•…•…st?

El. lo.

Yes, and more as so•…•… as I can get it out.

La.

Well, out with't.

El. lo.

You are, let me see.

La.

One that has vs'd you with too much respect.

El. lo.

One that hath vs'd me (since you will haue it so) the ba∣sest, the most Foot-boy like, without respect of what I was, or what you might be by me: you haue vs'd me, as I would vse a jade, ride him off's legges, then turn him into the Commons: you haue vs'd me with discretion, and I thanke yee. If you haue many more such prettie Seruants, pray build an Hospitall, and when they are old, keepe vm for shame.

La.

I cannot thinke yet this is serious,

El. lo.

VVill you haue more on't?

La.

No faith, there's inough if it be true: Too much by all my part: you are no Lou•…•…r then?

El. lo.

No, I had rather be a Carrier.

La.

VV•…•…y the gods amend all.

El. lo.

Neither doe I thinke there can bee such a fellow found i'th world, to be in loue with such a froward woman: if there bee such, th'are madde, Ioue comfort vm. Now you l aue all, and I as new a man, as light, & spirited, that I feele my selfe cleane through another creature. O'tis braue to be ones owne man. I can see you now as I would see a Picture, sit all day by you and neuer kisse your hand: heare you sing, and neuer fall backward; but with as set a temper, as I would heare a Fidler, rise and thanke you. I can now keepe my money in my purse, that still was gadding out for Scarfes and Wastcoats: and keepe my hand from Mercers sheep∣skins finely. I can eate Mutton now, and feast my selfe with my two shillings, and can see a Play for eighteene pence againe: I can my Lady.

La.

The carriage of this fellow vexes me. Sir, pray let mee speake a little priuate •…•…ith you, I must not suffer this.

El. lo.

Ha, ha, ha, what would you with me? You will not rauish me? Now, your set speech.

La

Thou perjurd man.

El. lo.

Ha, ha, ha, this is a fine Exordium: And why I pray you p•…•…jurd?

La.

Did you not sweare a thousand thousand times you lou'd me best of all things?

El. lo.

I doe confesse it: make your best of that.

La.

Why doe you say, you doe not then?

El. lo.

Nay 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sweare it, And giue sufficient reason, your owne vsage.

La.

Doe you not loue me now then?

El. lo.

No faith.

La.

Did you euer thinke I lou'd you dearely?

El. lo.

Yes, but I see but rotten fruits on't.

La.

Doe not denie your hand, for I must kisse it, and take my last farewell: now let me die so you be happy.

El. lo:

I am too foolish: Lady, speake deere Ladie.

La.

No let me die.

Shee swounes.

Ma.

O my sister.

Abi.

O my Ladie, helpe, helpe.

Mar.

Run for some Rosasolis.

El. lo.

I haue plaid the fi•…•…e asse: bend her bodie, Lady, best, dearest, worthiest Ladie, heare your seruant: I am not as I shew'd: O wretched foole to fling away the Iewel of thy life thus. Giue her more aire, see she begins to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, sweete Mistres heare me.

La.

Is my seruant well.

El. lo.

In being yours I am so.

•…•…a.

Then I care not.

El. lo.

How doe ye, reach a chaire there: I confesse my fault not pardonable, in pursuing thus vpon such tendernesse my wilful er∣rour: but had I knowne it would haue rought thus with yee, thus strangely; not the world had wonne me to it, and let not (my best Lady) any word spoke to my end disturbe your quiet peace: for sooner shall you know a generall ruine, then my faith broken. Doe not doubt this Mistres: for by my life I cannot liue without you. Come come, you shall not greeue, rather be angry, and heape i•…•…∣fliction on me: I wil suffer. O I could curse my selfe, praye smile vpon me. Vpon •…•…y faith it was but a tricke to trie you, knowing you lou'd me dea•…•…ly, and yet strangely that you would neuer shew it, though my meanes was all humilitie.

All.

Ha, ha.

El. lo.

How now?

La.

I thanke you fine foole for your most fine plot: this was a sub•…•…ile one, a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 deuice to haue caught Do•…•…ls with. Good sencelesse Sir, could you imagine I should swoune for you, and know your selfe to be an a•…•…t asse? I, a discouerd one. Tis quit I Thank•…•… you Sir. Ha, ha, ha.

M•…•…r.

Take heede sir, she may chance to swoune againe?

All.

Ha, ha, ha.

Abi.

Step to her sir, see how she changes colour.

El. lo.

Ile goe to h•…•… •…•…irst, and bebetter welcome.

I am fool'd, I doe confesse it, •…•…y •…•…o'd, Ladie fool'd Madam, and I thanke you for it.

La.

Faith '〈◊〉〈◊〉 not so much worth Sir: But if I know when you come n•…•…xt a burding. Ile haue a stronger noose to hold the woodcock.

All.

Ha, ha, ha.

El. lo.

I am glad to see you merry, pray laugh on.

Mar.

Had a hard heart that could not laugh at you Sir. ha, ha.

La.

Praye Sister doe not laugh, youle anger him, And then hee'l 〈◊〉〈◊〉 like a rude 〈◊〉〈◊〉, That Schooleboies had cozned of his apples, As loud and sencelesse.

El. lo.

I will not rai•…•….

Mar.

Faith then lets heare him sister.

El. lo.

Yes you shall heare me.

La.

Shall we 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the better for it then?

El. lo.

No. He that makes a woman better by his words, Ile haue him Sainted: blowes wil not doe it.

La.

By this light h•…•…'l beate vs.

El. lo.

Yo•…•… doe deserue it richly, And may liue to haue a Beadle doe it.

La.

Now he rai•…•….

El. lo.

Come 〈◊〉〈◊〉 full Folly, If this be railing, you shall heare me raile.

La.

•…•…ay put it in good words then.

El. lo.

The worst are good enough for such a trisle, Such a proud 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Cobw•…•…b lawnë.

La.

You 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Sir.

El. lo.

I would til the bones crackt, and I had my will.

Mar.

We had best mussell him, he grows 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

El. lo

I would twere 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the next great sicknesse to haue the dogs spared; those harmelesse creatures, and knocke i•…•… head these hot continuall plagues, weomen, that are more 〈◊〉〈◊〉. I hope the stat•…•… will thinke on't.

La.

Are you w•…•…l sir?

Mar.

He lookes as though he had a grecuous fit ath Collick.

El. lo.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 wil you cure me?

Abi.

He heate a trencher for him.

El lo.

Durty December doe. Thou with a face as olde as Erra Pater, such a prog•…•…osticating nose: thou thing that ten yeares

since has left to be a woman, outworne the expectation of a Bawde; and thy dry bones can reach at nothing now, but gords or ninepinnes; pray goe fetch a trencher, goe:

La.

Let him alone, 'is crackt:

Abi.

Ile see him hang'd first, 'is a beastly fellow, to loose a woman of my breeding thus; I marry is a: would I were a man, Ide make him eate his knaues words.

Eld. L.

Tye your she Otter vp, good Lady Folly, she stinkes worse then a beare-bayting.

La.

Why will you be angry now?

Eld. L.

Goe paint and purge, call in your kennel with you: you a Lady?

Abi.

Sirra, looke too't against the quarter Sessions, if there be good behauiour in the world, Ile haue thee bound to it.

Eld.

L. You must not seeke it in your Ladyes house then: pray send this Ferret home, and spinne good Abigall. And Maddame, that your Ladyshippe may know, in what base man∣ner you haue vs'd my seruice, I doe from this hower hate thee heartily: and though your folly should whip you to repentance. and waken you at length to see my wronges, tis not the indea∣uour of your life shall win me: not all the friends you haue in intercession, nor your submissiue letters, though they spoke as many teares as words; not your knees growne toth' ground in penitence, not all your state, to kisse you: nor my pardon nor will to giue you Christian buriall, if you dye thus: so farewell. When I am marryed and made sure, Ile come and visit you a∣gaine, and vexe you Lady. By all my hopes Ile be a torment to you, worse then a tedious winter. I know you will recant and sue to me, but saue that labour: Ile rather loue a Feuer and con∣tinuall thirst, rather contract my youth to drinke, and safer dote vpon quarrells, or take a drawne whore from an Hospitall, that time, diseases, and Mercury had eaten, then to be drawne to loue you.

La,

Ha, ha, ha, pray doe, but take heed though.

Eld. L.

From thee, false dice, lades. Cowards, and plaguy Sum∣mers, good Lord deliuer mee.

Ex. Eld. Loue.

La.

But harke you seruant, harke ye: is he gone? call him aine:

Abi.

Hang him Padocke.

La.

Art thou here still? fly, fly, and call my seruant, fly or nere see me more.

Abi.

I had rather knit againe then see that rascall, but I must doe it.

ex. Abi.

La.

I would be loth to anger him too much: what fine foolery 〈◊〉〈◊〉 this in a woman, to vse those men most frowardly they loue most? If I should loose him thus, I were rightly serued. I hope is not so much himselfe to take it •…•…h heart: how now? will he come backe?

ent. Abi.

Abi.

Neuer he sweares whilst he can heare men say ther's any woman liuing: he swore hee wood ha me first.

La.

Didst thou intreat him wench?

A•…•…i.

As well as I could Madam. But this is still your way, to loue being absent, and when hee's with you, laugh at him and abuse him. There is another way if you could hit on't.

La.

Thou saist true, get me paper, pen, and inke, Ile write to him, Ide be loth he should sleepe in's anger.

Women are most fooles, when they thinke th'are wise•…•….

ex. omnes.

Musicke. Enter young Louelesse and Widdow, going to be married: with them his Comrades.

VVi.

Pray Sir cast off these fellowes, as vnfitting for your bare knowledge, and farre more your company: ist fit such Rag∣amuffins as these are should beare the name of friends? and fur∣nish out a ciuill house? y'are to be marryed now, and men that loue you must expect a course farre from your old carrire: If you will keepe vm, turne vm toth' stable, & there make vm groomes: and yet now I consider it, such beggars once set a horse back, you haue heard will ride, how farre you had best to looke to.

Cap.

Heare you, you that must be Lady, pray content your selfe and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vpon your carriage soone at night, what dress∣ing will best take your knight, what wastcote, what cor∣diall will doe well i'th morning for him, what tryers haue you?

VVi.

What doe you meane Sir?

Cap.

Those that must switch him vp: if he start well, feare not but cry S. George, and beare him hard: when you perceiue his wind growes ho•…•…, and wanting, let him a little downe, `is •…•…eet nere doubt him, and stands sound.

VVi.

Sir, you heare these fellowes?

Yo. L.

Merry companions, wench, merry companious:

UUi.

To one another let vm be companions, but good Sir not to you: you shall be ciuill and slip off these base trappings.

Cap.

He shall not need, my most sweet Lady grocer, if hee be ciuill, not your powdered Suger, nor your Reasens shall perswade the Captaine to liue a Coxcome with him: Let him be ciuill and eate i'th Arches, and see what will come ont.

Po.

I et him bee ciuill, doe: vndoe him: I, thats the next way. I will not take (if hee be ciuill once) two hundred pounds a yeare to liue with him: bee ciuill? theres a trimme pe•…•…swasion.

Cap.

If thou beest ciuill Knight, as Ioue defend it, get thee a∣nother nose, that wil be puld off by the angry boyes, for thy con∣uersion: •…•…he Children thou shalt get on this Ciuilian cannot in∣herit by the law, th'are Ethnickes, and all thy sport meere Mor∣rall lechery: when they are growne hauing but little in vm, they may p•…•…ooue Haberdashers, or grosse Grosers, like their deare damme there: prethe be ciuill Knight, in time thou maist read to thy houshold and be drunke once a yeare: this would shew finely.

Yo. L.

I wonder sweet heart you will offer this, you doe not vnderstand these Gentlemen: I will be short and pithy: I had ra∣ther cast you off by the way of charge: these are Creatures, that nothing goes to the maintenance of but Corne and Water. I will keepe these fellowes just in the Competency of two Hennes:

Wid.

If you can cast it so Sir, you haue my liking; if the•…•… eat lesse, I should not be offended: But how these, Sir, can liue vppon so little as Co•…•…ne and Wa•…•…er. I am vnbeleeuing.

Yo. L.

Why prethee sweet heart what's your Ale? is not that Corne and Water my sweet Widdow?

Wid.

I but my sweet Knight, wheres the meat to this, and cloathes that they must looke for?

Yo. L.

In th•…•… short sentence Ale, is all included: Meate, Drinke, and Cloth: these are no rauening foot-men, no fellowes tha•…•… at Ordinaries dare 〈◊〉〈◊〉 their eighteene pence thrice out before they rise, and yet goe hungry to play, and crack more nuts then would suffice a dozen Squirrels; besides the din,

which is damnable: I had rather raile, and be confin'd to a Boat maker, then hue among such rascalls; these are people of such a cleane discretion in their dyet, of such a moderate suste∣nance, that they sweat if they but smell hot meate. Porredge is poyson, they hate a kitchen as they hate a counter, and show em but a Fetherbed they swound. Ale is their 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and their drinking surely, which keeps their bodies cleere, & soluble. Bread is a binder, and for that abolisht euen in their ale, whose lost roome fills an apple, which is mo•…•… ayre, a•…•…d of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Nature. The rest they take, is little, and that little, as little easie: For like strict men of order, they doe correct their bodies with a bench, or a poore stubborne table; if a chimney 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with some few broken rushes, they are in downe: when they are sick, that's drunke, they may haue fresh shaw, else they doe despise these worldly pamperings. For their poore apparrell, tis worne out to the dyet; new they seeke none, and if a man should offer, they are angry: scarse to be reconcyl'd againe with him: you shall not heare em aske one a cast doublet, once in a yeare, which is a modesty besitting my poore friends: you see their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pe, though slender, competent: For shirts I take it, they are things worne out of their remembrance. Lowsie they will be, when they list, and M•…•…ngie, which showes a fin̄e variety: and then to cure em, a Tanners lymepit, which is little charge, two dogs, and these; these two may be cur'd for three pence.

Wi.

You haue halfe perswaded me, pray vse your pleasure: and my good f•…•…iends since I doe know your dyet, Ile take an or∣der, meate shall not offend you, you shall haue ale.

Cap.

Wee aske no more, let it be mighty, Lady: and if wee perish, then our owne sinnes on vs.

Yo. l.

Come forward gentlemen, to Church my boyes, when we haue done, Ile giue you cheere in boules.

Ex•…•…unt.

Finis Actus Quarti.