North-vvard hoe Sundry times acted by the Children of Paules. By Thomas Decker, and Iohn Webster.

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Title
North-vvard hoe Sundry times acted by the Children of Paules. By Thomas Decker, and Iohn Webster.
Author
Dekker, Thomas, ca. 1572-1632.
Publication
Imprinted at London :: By G. Eld,
1607.
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"North-vvard hoe Sundry times acted by the Children of Paules. By Thomas Decker, and Iohn Webster." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A20098.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 3, 2024.

Pages

ACTVS 3.SAENA 1. (Book 3)

Enter Doll, Chartly Leuerpoole and Phillip.
Phil.

Come my little Punke with thy two Compositors to this vnlawfull painting house, thy pounders a my old poeicall dad wilbe here presently, ake vp thy State in this chayre, and beare thy selfe as if thou wert talking to thy pottecary after the receipt of a purgation: looke scuruily vpon him: sometimes be merrie and stand vppon thy pantoffles like a new elected scauinger.

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Doll.

And by and by melancholicke like a Tilter that hath broake his staues foule before his Mistrisse.

Phil.

Right, for hee takes thee to bee a woman of a great count: harke vpon my life hee's come.

Doll.

See who knocks: thou shalt see mee make a foole of a Poet, that hath made fiue hundred fooles.

Leuer.

Please your new Lady-ship hee's come.

Doll.

Is hee? I should for the more state let him walke some two houres in an vtter roome: if I did owe him money, 'twere not much out of fashion; but come enter him: Stay, when we are in priuate conference send in my Tayler.

Enter Bellamont brought in by Leuerpoole.
Leuer.

Looke you my Ladie's a sleepe, heele wake presently.

Bell.

I come not to teach a Starling sir, God-boy-you.

Leuer.

Nay, in trueth Sir, if my Lady should but dreame you had beene heare.

Doll.

Who's that keepes such a prating?

Leuer.

'Tis I Madam.

Doll.

Ile haue you preferd to be a Cryer: you haue an exlent throate for't: pox a the Poet is he not come yet?

Leuer.

Hee's here Madam.

Doll.

Crie you mercy: I ha curst my Monkey for shrewd turnes a hundred times, and yet I loue it neuer the worse I protest.

Bel.

Tis not in fashion deere Lady to call the breaking out of a Gentlewomans lips, scabs, but the heate of the Liuer.

Dol.

So sir: if you haue a sweete breath, and doe not smell of swetty linnen, you may draw neerer, neerer.

Pel.

I am no friend to Garlick Madam.

Doll.

You write the sweeter verse a great deale sir, I hau heard much good of your wit maister Poet: you do many de∣uises for Cittizens wiues: I care not greatly because I haue a Citty Laundresse already, if I get a Citty Poet too: I haue such a deuise for you, and this it is.

Enter Tayler.
O welcome Tayler: do but waite till I dispatch my Tayler, and Ile discouer my deuice to you.

Bell.

Ile take my leaue of your Ladiship.

Doll.

No: I pray thee stay: I must haue you sweate for my deuice Maister Poet.

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Phil.

He sweats already beleeue it.

Dol.

A cup of wine there: what fashion will make a woman haue the best bodie Taylor.

Tay.

A short dutch wast with a round cathern-wheele far∣dingale: a close sleeue wih a cartoose collour and a pickadell.

Dol.

And what meate will make a woman haue a fine wit Maister Poet.

Bel.

Fowle madam is the most light, delicate, & witty feeding.

Dol.

Fowle sayst thou: I know them that feede of it euery meale, and yet are as arrant fooles as any are in a kingdome of my cedit: hast thou don Taylor? now to discouer my deuice sir: Ile drinck to you sir.

Phil.

Gods pretious, wee nere thought of her deuice before, pray god it be any thing tollerable.

Dol.

Ile haue you make 12. poesies for a dozen of cheese tren∣chers.

Phil.

O horrible!

Bel.

In welch madam?

Dol.

Why in welch sir.

Bel.

Because you will haue them serud in with your cheese Ladie.

Dol.

I will bestow them indeede vpon a welch Captaine: one that loues cheese better than venson, for if you should but get 3. or 4. Cheshire cheeses and set them a running down Hie∣gate-hill, he would make more hast after thē than after the best kennell of hounds in England; what think you of my deuice?

Bel.

Fore-god a very strange deuice and a cunning one.

Phil.

Now he begins to eye the goblet.

Bel.

You should be a kin to the Bellamonts, you giue the same Armes madam.

Dol.

Faith I paid sweetely for the cup, as it may be you and some other Gentleman haue don for their Armes.

Bel.

Ha, the same waight: the same fashion: I had three nest of them giuen mee, by a Nobleman at the christing of my sonne Philip.

Phil.

Your sonne is come to full age sir: and hath tane posse∣ssion of the gift of his God-father.

Bel.

Ha, thou wilt not kill mee.

Phil.

No sir, ile kill no Poet least his ghost write satires a∣gainst me.

Page [unnumbered]

Bel.

Whats she? a good common welthes woman, shee was borne.

Phil.

For her Country, and has borne her Country.

Bel.

Heart of vertue? what make I here?

Phil.

This was the party you raild on: I keepe no worse cō∣pany than your selfe father, you were wont to say venery is like vsery that it may be allowed tho it be not lawfull.

Bel

Wherefore come I hither.

Dol.

To make a deuice for cheese-trenchers.

Phil.

Ile tell you why I sent for you, for nothing but to shew you that your grauity may bee drawne in: white haires may fall into the company of drabs aswell as red beardes into the soci∣ety of knaues: would not this woman deceiue a whole camp ith Low-countries, and make one Commander beleeue she on∣ly kept her cabbin for him, and yet quarter twenty more in't.

Dol.

Pree the Poet what doest thou think of me.

Bel.

I thinke thou art a most admirable, braue, beautifull Whore.

Dol.

Nay sir, I was told you would raile: but what doe you thinke of my deuice sir, nay: but you are not to depart yet Mai∣ster Poet: wut sup with me? Ile cashiere all my yong barnicles, & weele talke ouer a peice of mutton and a partridge, wisely.

Bel.

Sup with thee that art a common vndertaker? thou that doest promise nothing but watchet eyes, bumbast calues and false peryvvigs.

Dol▪

Pree the comb thy beard with a comb of black leade, it may be I shall affect thee.

Bel.

O thy vnlucky starre! I must take my leaue of your wor∣shippe I cannot fit your deuice at this instant: I must desire to borrovv a nest of goblets of you: O villanie! I wud some honest Butcher would begge all the queanes and knaues ith Citty and cary them into some other Country they'd sell better than Beefes and Calues: what a vertuous Citty would this bee then! mary I thinke there would bee a few people left int, vds foot, guld with Cheese-trenchers and yokt in entertainment with a Taylor? good, good.

Exit.

Phil.

How doest Doll?

Doll.

Scuruie, very scuruie.

Leuer.

Where shalls suppe wench?

Doll.

Ile suppe in my bedde: gette you home to your

Page [unnumbered]

odging and come whē I send for you, ô filthy roague that I am.

Phil.

How! how, mistris Dorothy?

Dol.

Saint Antonies fire light in your Spanish slops: vds life, ille make you know a difference, betweene my mirth and mel∣ancholy, you panderly roague.

Om.

We obserue your Ladiship.

Phi.

The puncks in her humer—pax.

Exit.

Dol.

Ile humor you and you pox mee: vds life haue I lien with a Spaniard of late, that I haue learnt to mingle such water with my Malago, Other's some scuruie thing or other breeding; how many seuerall loues of Plaiers of Vaulters, of Lieutenants haue I entertain'd besides a runner a the ropes, and now to let bloud when the signe is at the heart? should I send him a letter with some Iewel in't, he would requite it as lawiers do, that re-returne a wood-cock pie to their clients, when they send them a Bason and a Eue, I will instantly go and make my selfe drunke, till I haue lost my memory, liue a scoffing Poet?

Exit.

Enter Lep-rog and Squirill.
Frog.

Now Squiril wilt thou make vs acquainted with the iest thou promist to tell vs of?

Squi.

I will discouer it, not as a Darby-shere women disco∣uers her great teeth, in laughter: but softly as a gentlemā courts a wench behind an Arras: and this it is, yong Greenesheild thy Maister with Greenesheilds sister lie in my maisters garden-house here in More-fields.

Frog.

Right, what of this?

Squir

Mary sir if the Gentlewoman be not his wife, he com∣mits incest, for Ime sure he lies with her euery night.

Fro.

All this I know, but to the rest.

Squir.

I will tell thee, the most pollitick trick of a woman, that ere made a mans face looke witherd and pale like the tree in Cuckolds Hauen in a great snow: and this it is, my mistris makes her husband belieue that shee walkes in her sleepe a nights, and to confirme this beleefe in him, sondry times shee hath rizen out of her bed, vnlockt all the dores, gon frō Cham∣ber to Chamber, opend her chests, touz'd among her linnen, & when he hath wakte & mist her, comming to question why she coniur'd thus at midnight, he hath found her fast a sleepe, mary it was Cats sleepe, for you shall heare what prey she watcht for.

Frog.

Good; forth.

Page [unnumbered]

Squir.

I ouer-heard her last night talking with thy Maister, and she promist him that assoone as her husband was a sleepe, she would walke according to her custome, and come to his Chamber, mary shee woud do it so pu••••••annically, so secretly I meane that no body should heare of it.

Frog.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 possible?

Squir.

Take but that corner and stand close, and thine eyes shall wt esse it.

Frog.

O ntollerable witte, what hold can any man take of a womans honesty.

Squi.

Hold? no more hold then of a Bull noynted with Sope, and baited with a snae of idles i Staffordshire: stand close I heare her comming.

Enter Kate.

Kate.

Wat a filty knaue was the shoo-maker, that made my slippers, what a creking they keepe: O Lord, if there be any power that can make a wmans husband sleepe sundly at a pinch, as I haue often 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in foolish Poetrie that thee is, now, now, and it be thy will, let him dreame some fine d••••ame or o∣ther, that hee's made a Knight, or a Noble-man, or some-what whilst I go and take bt two kisses, but two kisses from sweete Fetherstone.

Exit.

Squi.

Sfoot hee may well deame hees made a Knight: for Ile be hangd i she do ot db him.

Green.

Was there euer any walking spirit, like to my wife? what reason sould there bee in nature for this▪ I will question some ••••••••tion: not heare neither: vdslife, I would laugh if she were in Maister Fetherstones Chamber, shee would fright him, Mai••••er Fetherstone, Maister Fetherstone.

Within Fether.

Ha, how now who cals?

Green.

Did you leaue your doore open last night?

Feth.

I know not, I ••••inke my boy did.

Green.

Gods light shee's there then, will you know the iest, my wife hath her old tricks, Ile hold my life, my wife's in your chamber, rise out of your bed, and see and you can feele her.

Squi.

He will feele her warrant you?

Gree.

Haue you her sir?

Feth.

ot yet sir, shees here sir.

Enter Fethrstone and Kate in his armes.
Green.

So I said euen now to my selfe before God la: take her vp in your armes, and bring her hether softly, for feare of waking

Page [unnumbered]

her: I neuer knew the like of this before God la, alas poore Kate, looke before God; shees a sleepe with her eyes open: prit∣tie little roague, Ile wake her, and make her ashamd of it.

Feth.

O youle make her sicker then.

Green.

I warrant you; would all women thought no more hurt then thou doost, now sweet villaine, Kate, Kate.

Kate.

I longd for the merry thought of a phesant.

Green.

She talkes in her sleepe.

Kate.

And the foule-gutted Tripe-wife had got it, & eate halfe of it: and my colour went and came, and my stomach wambled: till I was ready to sound, but a Mid-wife perceiued it, and markt which way my eyes went; and helpt mee to it, but Lord how I pickt it, 'twas the sweetest meate me thought.

Squi.

O pollitick Mistrisse.

Green.

Why Kate, Kate?

Kate.

Ha, ha, ha, I beshrew your hart, Lord where am I?

Green.

I pray thee be not frighted.

Kate.

O I am sick, I am sick, I am sick, O how my flesh trembles: oh some of the Angelica water, I shal haue the Mother presently.

Gree.

Hold downe her stomach good maister Fetherstone, while I fetch some.

Exit.

Feth.

Well dissembled Kate.

Kate.

Pish, I am like some of your Ladies that can be sick when they haue no stomack to lie with their husbands.

Feth.

What mischiuous fortune is this: weel haue a iourney to Ware Kate, to redeeme this misfortune.

Kate.

Well, Cheaters do not win all wayes: that woman that will entertaine a friend, must as well prouide a Closet or Back-doore for him, as a Fether-bed.

Feth.

Be my troth I pitty thy husbnd.

Kate.

Pitty him, no man dares call him Cuckold; for he weares Sattin: pitty him, he that will pull downe a mans signe, and set vp hornes, there's law for him.

Feth.

Be sick againe, your husband comes.

Enter Greeneshield with a broken shin.
Green.

I haue the worst luck; I thinke I get more bumps and shrewd turnes ith' darke, how do's she maister Fetherstone.

Feth.

Very ill sir; shees troubled with the moother extreamly, I held downe her belly euen now, and I might feele it rise▪

Kate.

O lay me in my bed, I beseech you.

Page [unnumbered]

Gree.

I will finde a remedy for this walking, if all the Docters in towne can sell it; a thousand pound to a penny she spoile not her face, or breake her neck, or catch a cold that shee may nere claw off againe, how doost wench?

Kate.

A little recouerd; alas I haue so troubled that Gentlemā.

Feth.

None ith' world Kate, may I do you any farther seruice.

Kate.

And I were where I would be in your bed: pray pardon me, wast you Maister Fetherstone, hem, I should be well then.

Squi.

Marke how she wrings him by the fingers.

Kate.

Good night, pray you giue the Gentleman thankes for patience.

Green.

Good night Sir.

Feth.

You haue a shrewd blow, you were best haue it searcht.

Green.

A scratch, a scratch.

Exit.

Feth

Let me see what excuse should I frame, to get this wench forth a towne with me: Ile perswade her husband to take Phi∣sick, and presently haue a letter framed, from his father in law, to be deliuerd that morning for his wife, to come and receiue some small parcell of money in Enfield chase, at a Keepers that is her Vncle, then sir he not beeing in case to trauell, will intreate me to accompany his wife, weele lye at Ware all night, and the next morning to London, Ile goe strike a Tinder, and frame a Letter presently.

Exit.

Squi.

And Ile take the paines to discouer all this to my mai∣ster old Maybery, there hath gone a report a good while, my Maister hath vsed them kindly, because they haue beene ouer familiar with his wife, but I see which way Fetherstone lookes. sfoote ther's neare a Gentleman of them all shall gull a Citizen, & thinke to go scot-free: though your commons shrinke for this be but secret, and my Maister shall intertaine thee, make thee in∣steed of handling false Dice, finger nothing but gold and siluer wagge, an old Seruing-man turnes to a young beggar, whereas a young Prentise may turne to an old Alderman, wilt be secret?

Leap.

O God sir, as secret as rushes in an old Ladyes Cham∣ber.

Exit.

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