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Lodge her to all delight then: For I would have her tri'd toth'test: I know she must be some crackt Coyn, not sit his Traffique; which, when we have found, the shame will make him leave her, or we shall work a nearer way, I'll bury him, and with him all the hopes I have cast upon him, ere he shall dig his own Grave in that Woman: you know which way to bring her: I'll stand close there, to view her as she passes: And do you hear Menippus, observe her with all sweetness: humour her, 'twill make her lie more care∣less to our purposes. Away, and take what helpes you please.
Governess, From whom was this Gown sent me; Prithee be serious true; I will not wear't else: 'Tis a handsome one.
No Faith: But I believe for certain too, yet I wonder, because it was his caution, this poor way, still to preserve me from the curious search∣ings of greedy eyes.
Quick, good Governess: Fie on't, How beastly it becomes me? poor∣ly? A trick put upon me? well said Governess: I vow I would not wear it—out, it smells musty. Are these your tricks? now I begin to smell it abominable musty; Will ye help me? The Prince will come again—
As I live Ill' cut it off: a Pox upon it; for sure it was made for that use; Do you bring me Livories? Stales to catch Kites? Dost thou Laugh too, thou base Woman?
I shall Curse thee fearfully, if thou provok'st me further: and take heed, Woman; my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 never miss.
How? he that sent it? Is't come to that again? thou canst not be so foolish prithee speak out, I may mistake thee.
Curse o' my life: Why dost thou vex me thus? I know thou meanst Demetrius, dost thou not? I charge thee speak truth: if it be any other, thou knowst the charge he gave thee, and the justice his anger will inflict, if e're he know this, as know he shall, he shall, thou spiteful Wo∣man, thou beastly Woman; and thou shalt know to late too, and feel too sensible, I am no Ward, no Sale-stuff for your Money-Merchants that sent it? Who dare send me, or how durst thou, thou—
What you please: for this is ever the reward of service. The Prince will bring the next himself.
'Tis strange that you should deal so peevishly: beshrew ye, you have put me in a heat.
I am sure ye have kill'd me: I ne're receiv'd such language: I can but wait upon ye, and be your drudge; keep a poor life to serve ye.
Prethee be well, and tell me, did he speak of me, since he came? nay, see now, if thou wilt leave this tyranny? good sweet governess: did he but name his Celia? look upon me, upon my faith I meant no harm: here, take this, and buy thy self some trifles: did a good Girle?
More: richer and braver; I can tell ye that news; And twenty glorious things.
Ye are too good for our house now: we poor wretches Shall lose the comfort of ye.
'Tis sure it must be so: you must shine now at Court: such pre∣paration, such hurry, and such hanging rooms—
Toth' Court? this stumbles me: art sure for me, wench, this pre∣peration is?
She is perilous crafty: I fear too honest for us all too. Am I sure I live?
Toth' Court? this cannot down: what should I do there? why should he on a sudden change his mind thus, and not make me acquainted? sure he loves me; his vow was made against it, and mine with him: At least while this King liv'd: he will come hither, and see me ere I go?
Wou'd some wise woman had her in working: that I think he will not, because he means with all joy there to meet ye. Ye shall hear more within this hour?
A Courtier? what may the meaning be? sure he will see me if he be come, he must: Hark ye Governess, what age is the King of?
Why look ye now: What a strange Man are you? Would you have a Man fight at all houres all alike.
Do but fight something; but half a blow, and put thy Stomach to't: turn but thy face, and do but make Mouthes at 'em.
And have my Teeth knockt out; I thank ye heartily, ye are my dear Friend.
Faith, Sir, I make no suit for't: but rather then I would live thus out of Charity, continually in brawling—
That in the midst of thy most hellish pains, when thou wert craw∣ling sick, didst aim at wonders, when thou wert mad with pain?
Ye have found the cause out; I had ne're been mad to sight else: I confess, Sir, the daily torture of my side that vext me, made me as daily careless what became of me, till a kind Sword there wounded me, and eas'd me; 'twas nothing in my valour fought; I am well now, and take some pleasure in my life: methinks now it shews as mad a thing to me to see you 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and kill one another foolishly for Honour, as 'twas to you, to see me play the Coxcombe.
If all the Arts that are can make a Collick, therefore look to't: or if imposthumes, mark me, as big as foot-balls—
Or stones of ten pound weight i'th' kidneys through 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and ugly dyets may be gather'd; I'll feed ye up my self Sir, I'll prepare ye, you can∣not sight, unless the devil tear ye, you shall not want provocations, I'll 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ye, I'll have thee have the tooth-ach, and the head-ach.
No, no, nothing—then will I have thee blown with a pair of Smiths bellowes, because ye shall be sure to have a round gale with ye, sil'd full of oyle, o' devil, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fortis, and let these work, these may provok.
Where are you Colonel
The Prince expects ye Sir; has hedg'd the Enemy within a straight, where all the hopes and valours of all Men living cannot force a passage, he has 'em now.
You may help it; yet you may help it: I'll do ye any Courtesie: I know you love a Wench well.
Stinks like a dead Dog, Carrion—There's no such damnable smell under Heaven, as the faint sweat of a Coward: Will ye sight yet?
Nay, now I desie ye; ye have spoke the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ye can of me, and if 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Man should take what you say to the heart—
God a mercy, God a mercy with all my heart; here I forgive thee; and fight, or fight not, do but go along with us, and keep my Dog.
'Pox take thee. Sure I shall love this Rogue, he's so pretty a Cow∣ard: Come, Gentlemen, let's up now, and if fortune dare play the Slut again, I'll never more Saint her; Come, Play-fellow, come, prithee come up; come Chicken, I have a way shall sit yet: A tame knave —Come, look upon us.
No, she believ'd it quickly, and quickly made her self sit, the Gown a little, and those new things she has not been acquainted with, at least in this place, where she liv'd a Prisoner, troubled and stirr'd her Mind: But believe me, Sir, she has worn as good, they sit so apted to her; and she is so great a Mistriss of disposure: Here they come now: but take a full view of 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
I could Laugh now, to see how finely I am cozn'd: yet I fear not, for sure I know a way to scape all dangers.
I dare believe ye, but I dare not trust ye: catch'd with a trick? well, I must bear it patiently: methinks this Court's a neat place: all the people of such resin'd a size—
Take breath; you are fat and many words may melt ye, this is three Bawds beaten into one; bless me heaven, what shall become of me? I am 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pitfal: o' my conscience, this is the old viper, and all these little ones creep every night into her belly; do you hear plump servant, and my little sucking Ladies, you must teach me, for I know you are excellent at carriage, how to behave my self, for I am rude yet, but you say the Prince will come?
There's the matter, there's the main doctrin now, and I may miss it; Or a kind hansome Gentleman?
I find a notable volume here, a learned one; which way? for I would fain be in my chamber; in truth sweet Ladies, I grow weary; sie, how hot the air beats on me?
We must keep a round, and a strong watch to night, the Prince will not charge the Enemy till the morning: but for the trick I told ye for this rascal, this rogue, that health and strong heart makes a coward.
Ne're fear it, the Prince has it, and if he let it fall, I must not know it; he will suspect me presently: but you two may help the plough.
The Prince has been upon him, what a flatten face he has now? It takes believe it; how like an asse he looks?
I feel no great pain, at least, I think I do not; yet I feel sensibly I grow extreamely faint: how cold I sweat now?
And now 'tis ev'n too true, I feel a pricking, a pricking, a strang pricking: how it tingles? and as it were a slitch too: the Prince told me, and every one cri'd out I was a dead man; I had thought I had been as well—
I ever told ye, This Man was never Cur'd, I see it too plain now; How do you feel your self? you look not perfect: How dull his eyes hangs?
Believe me Friend, I would not suffer now the tithe of those paines this Man feels; mark his Forehead; What a cloud of cold dew hangs upon't?
I have it, again I have it; How it grows upon me? a miserable Man I am.
Ha, ha, ha, A miserable Man thou shalt be; this is the tamest Trout I ever tickell'd.
Thou art heart whole yet; I see he alters strangely, and that apace too; I saw it this morning in him, when he poor Man I dare swear—
The Imposthume, fed with a new malignant Humour now, will grow to such a bigness, 'tis incredible, the compass of a Bushel will not hold it, and with such a Hell of torture it will rise too—
Good Master Doctor, let me be beholding to you, I feel I cannot last.
Among the Gentlemen, even all I have left; I am a poor Man, naked, yet something for remembrance: four a peece, Gentlemen, and so my Body where you please.
You must not cut him: he's gone then in a moment; all the hope left, is to work his weakness into sudden anger, and make him raise his pas∣sion above his pain, and so dispose him on the Enemy; his body then, being stirr'd with violence, will purge it self, and break the sore.
And some brave thing, or let mine Eares be cut off. He's sinely wrought.
I pray Sir; But how Rogue, when this Cloud's melted in him, and all discover'd—
How now? who charged first? I seek a brave hand to set me off in death.