The hectors, or, The false challenge a comedy written in the year MDCLV, the scene, London.

SCENE III.

Enter Lagul and Mrs▪ Bud, Mrs. Crisis standing at the other door, beckens to Lovewit, to the end that she should come and hear what thty say.

Lag.

What (Madam) is it a Massacre resolv'd, is killing one by one grown tedious sport?

Aglaura Scen. 3. Act. 1.

Cris.

Did ever poor Sir Iohn think thus to be abused?

Bud.

Really Sir, it pleaseth you to speak far beyond my deserts.

Lag.

O God, Madam, your Deserts are far transcending whatsoever I can say, Divinity inhabits in your face, and your cheeks contain the Elixar of all perfection.

Bud.

I am confident Sir, it pleaseth you to say so.

Lag.

Madam, I should esteem my self incomparably felicitous, if you would vouchsafe to honour me this Afternoon with your com∣pany to Hide Park, and grace my Coach with your transcendent beauty.

Bud.

Really my company will be no honour, but rather disgrace you.

Lag.

I presume not so (Madam)— for your Beauty doth anihila∣tize all others.

Cris.

Heark, Anihilatize, me thinks it is a pretty word.

Love.

It is a great deal of pity it should signifie nothing.

Lag.

For by this fair hand, Madam—

Love.

He is almost spent, I know by his beginning to toy with her,— I will go and relieve him.

She goeth to him with Crisis.

Monsieur Lagul, your servant; What? making new Conquests? Have you no pity on our Sex? If you go on thus, we shall look on you as on some common threatning mischief that will destroy us all.

Lag.

It is my eternal felicity Madam,—But I presume.—

Love.

You do indeed, to forget your old friends; What was the matter, I pray, we did not see you in the Country according to your promise?

Lag.

Really, Madam, I did ruminate in my thoughts to kiss your hands, but fortune was not so propitious to me as to favour me with that felicity.—

Cris.

It favoured her I am sure.

Aside.

Lov.

Why what was the matter?

Lag.

I must confess (Madam) there hath an accident or two fal∣len out of late, that hath taken me up, and made me extremely unci∣vil in this nature unto all my friends; I shall certainly be weary of these Duels in the end, if it be but for this cause.

Cris.

So, now he is in.

Aside.

Lov.

Then I see men sometimes feel your wounds as well as we. But I pray beware left in the end we may all rue some unlucky thrust.

Lag.

These Duels (Madam) I must confesse, are businesses of dan∣ger enough; but that is a thing which he that values his honour and reputation, must not entertain a thought of.— But yet at the first, I must needs say, they seemed somewhat strange; but now me thinks they are nothing, I look upon them as a meer Exercise; I cannot scarce eat a Dinner with a good appetite until I have fought one: They clearly save me forty shillings a Month unto my Fencing Ma∣ster.

Lov.

Were I but now disposed to be merry.

Aside.

Cris.

But I pray let me perswade you out of them.

Lag.

'Tis impossible (Madam); for he that stands upon his pun∣ctillio's, must needs run into them every day. I have fought two this we••k already, tomorrow I am to fight a third, and I look for a Chal∣lenge to another every minute.

Lov.

Why, for Gods sake Sir?

Lag.

I was yesterday (Madam) in the Afternoon at the Divel Ta∣vern, there hapned to be some words exchanged between a Gentle∣man and my self;— as I remember, he called me, Empty prating Cox∣comb: Upon that (Madam) by the rule of Honour I could do no lesse then give him the Lye; I expected then that he would have singled me out, and have wispered somewhat in my ear, but the ignorant fellow nothing but flung a quart pot at my head, and kicked me down the stairs.

Cris.

Why, was not that enough?

Lag.

No (Madam) the affront doth yet lye clearly on his side, it was so resolved afterwards at the Golden-fleece.

Cris.

Me thinks that is somewhat strange.

La.

Not at all, Madam, for the Lye is the highest affront that can be given, and so is the French mode, for once FranÇois de Valois, the French King, upon an affront that Charles the Emperor put upon him, sent him a Challenge, in which he gave him the Lye; the Emperor refusing to answer him, the French ever since in Complement to their King have esteemed it the highest affront that can possibly be put upon a man.

Lov.

But how came you off in the other Duels you said you have fought?

Lag.

Very well, Madam: for the first it was a businesse of nothing;

for at the very first pas I disarmed my Adversary, and I not seeking af∣ter bloud, but the Vindication of my Honour, was content to receive reasonable satisfaction, the acknowledgment that he had done me wrong, and so forth.

Some body knocks.

Cris.

Who is that at the door?

Lag.

But the other was like to have proved transcendently more periculous: for (Madam) I stood upon my Guard thus.—

Drawes.

Cris.

Blesse us!

Lag.

This (Madam) is Prince Ruperts Guard,— He came feroci∣ously upon me with a Passado or two, which I putting off, run at him just thus, as my Lord Shandos killed Compton.—

Crisis squeeks

Enter Knowwel.

Know.

Villain! Draw upon a woman!

He takes away his sword.

Lov.

Hold Sir, he is but in jest.

Know.

In jest!

Lag.

He knowes it is against the Mode to make a quarrel among Ladies.

Know.

The Mode, you Coxcomb!—

Beats him, La-gul runs out, Know-wel followes, and presently returnes again, Bud goeth out after Lagul.

Know.

Well let him go, for he is an Asse I'm sure, and so he ever will be, therefore it were a folly for to trouble my self any more with him.

Lov.

He can fight I see, although he cannot talk.

Aside.

Cris.

Now, Sir, I am not altogether of your mind; though the Gentleman (I must confess) doth appear absurd enough, my Cozen and I though, are not altogether out of hopes in time to make him a lit∣tle more understand himself, somewhat I think we have done al∣ready.

Know.

It is impossible, Lady, except you should alter the Fabrick of his mind, unbend its appetite, or give it new desires; for as long as the divine soul creating breath, is clad with different disposing matter, and cast in several moulds, there will be Wise and Fooles.

Cris.

Sir, if he were a natural Fool, I should yeeld much to your opinion, but in my mind his chiefest unhappiness is, only to have set his mind on some odd fancies, which if we could perswade him out of, he would be (at the least) not ridiculous.

Know.

Lady, 'tis likely you may know him a great deal better then I, for, I must confesse, altho••gh he be one that I see almost every day in the streets, yet of all men living I have the least acquaintance with him: wherefore (Madam) if you please to make my knowledge to be so far indebted to you, as to let me a little more fully understand him, I shall take it as no mean favour.

Cris.

That Sir would be a very tedious task.

Lov.

A tedious task! Why, what have you to do, I wonder?

Know.

That question I think may not be unnecessarily put to a

Lady that is drest, and hath dined, as I suppose you have.

Cris.

Well Cozen, if you will help me, I will venture on it then. And to begin, Sir this Gentleman (as I have said) although he doth appear ridiculous enough, yet in my opinion not so much by nature as unlucky chance: for as when some common metals will serve for good substantial use, yet if you strive to force them to more curious shapes, they only such rude draughts will take as will render them more deformed: So this Gentleman (had his courser soul but had the luck to have acted in some downright way, to have managed some plod∣ding Trade) he might by long experience have understood himselfe within his Sphere; nay, have had wit enough to have got a good E∣state, and through the repute of that, have been look'd upon by the world as wise; but this by his fathers industry being left to his hand, the common course of the world, unhappily doth fling him upon things fit only for more refined minds; which although he cannot master, yet some odde grudges and imperfect stamps have transformed him from what he was, nor can he be what he would.

Lov.

So (Sir) that some laugh at him, some wonder, as one would at some monstrous thing; some, indigested vain attempt of Na∣ture.

Cris

And first Sir, his Fortunes enabling him to keep variety of company; he hears indeed all sorts of wit enough, but that being a thing too subtile for his soul, naught stayes with him, but some few words and phrases, which he rudely plucking from that natural chaine that linck'd them with appropriating circumstances, shew very strange∣ly.

Know.

Not much unlike (Lady) the relicks of those species, which (although in a methodick way, and by the discursive hints of thought are represented to the mind, yet) in a dream appear with casual conse∣quence, the fancie making absurd contradictions, whilst at one act it doth rethink things treasured up in different time and place.

Cris.

Right Sir; for with some conceited speech, he is your Ser∣vant; what e're you answer, on he goeth to what is next in h••s me∣mory.

Lov.

Me thinks he sometimes puts me in mind of the Discourse between Clarangeus and Al••idon, what e're Alcidon answered, Cla∣rangeus went still on with the story of his woodden window.

Cris.

But Sir, it is with Complements as with all things else, except they beget one another, they are quickly at an end.

Lov.

His tongue indeed like the Germane Clockwork at Bartholmew Fair, is wound up but for a season.

Cris.

You would take him for Fryer Bacons head, made only to speak some certain sentences.

Lov.

It may be so: for I must confesse, for the most part, he doth use strange, high, and conjuring words; nor do I think his face wants brass.

Cri••.

Conjuring! You shall have him Court his Mistris, as if she were a Lady in some inchanted Castle. to be won with certain strange Ceremonies and mystical speeches.

Lov.

When he i•• quite spent, he is wont to cry, O Lord.— tel you, You are mel••ncholy;— but that we have almost laughed him out of; for now with some fond protestation, he will say somewhat, which in effect shall be only a denyal of what you say.

Cris.

A little better then the Canterburry Fidler, that would still cry, You lye Sir.

Lov.

Then he will talk somewhat of Newes, or of the Weather, tell you it hath not rained of late; some common places of the cryed up Wits and Beauties of the Towne, with certain formula's of cen∣sure on them all, may a little prolong his Discourse.

Cris.

O•• if a Horse-Race chance to be, it serves in no small stead, (believe me) it will keep him in good talk for at the least a week.

Lov.

You know, Cozen, what a stir he uses to keep sometimes with Trigunnel and his Mare.

Cris.

But that which is his greatest labour, and which most per∣plexeth him to attain, as the only thing which in his judgment renders him right Gallant and most complete, is the punctilio Discourse, the Laws of Duel and the Sword.

Lov.

He thinks that if he could go handsomly through with a quar∣rel without receiving a baffle, according to these Laws, he hath done more, and hath got more honour and repute then e're Montross, the Sweden King or Scanderbag.

Know.

Doth Fury know a Rule? Anger a Law? Strange Tyranny is this, that thus doth passions aw! Great spirits know your wrongs, can you whose actions might deter∣mine what is Valour, whose looks might daunt a fashion, and outstare the Mode, whose names might make your deeds, though interferring ••ustome, regular? Can you (I say) be governed by the paltry by∣lawes of a Taverne? Shall Honour, that Spring of worthy minds, that just Reward of Courage, Pains or Art, be measured by the dictates of a Crue able to degenerate the word, make it a term for Cowards, or a talk to busie fooles; a thing, a well tempered mind e're long will scarce dare own. As I have known a man whose spotlesse life would seem to question Adams fall, yet would he startle at the name of Godly, Saint or Holy. But Lady, I doubt I have too much interrupted you.

Lov.

Not a whit, Sir.

Cris.

There is not a quarrel about the Town, but he labours to get the exact History of it; he will tell you its rise and growth, who gave the first affront, and where it last did lye; together with the judicious observations of the Sword men on it.

Lov.

Then he hath strange Romances too of his own Adventures;

there is no Scout, Gazet or Weekly Intelligence will furnish you with more improbabilities. Captain Iones was but a meer Asse to him.

Cris.

I, for yesterday me thought, he told a story that went beyond his wounding the man in the Air.

Know.

What was that, I pray Lady?

Cris.

Why Sir, he said, as he was coming from Hide Park, there was five Bailiffes beset his Coach, which he routed; but with what do you think?

Know.

With his sword; what else?

Cris.

No Sir, it was but a Ladies busk, that he said he had in his hand.

Lov.

A pretty Instrument, and much in fashion with him of late.

Cris.

He gives one (Hadland, I think they call him) fifty pounds a year to keep him company.

Lov.

That is, sometimes to countenance him, and keep him from a Baffle.

Know.

Hadland! Certainly I have heard of that same Gentleman.

Cris.

'Tis possible, Sir, for he is one of no lesse ••ame then worth, although his decayed fortunes sometimes force him on unhandsome shifts.

Lov.

Is not that he you said to day Mrs. P. hath been so much in love with?

Cris.

The very same; he is one of the chief of our modern Hectors.

Lov.

Hectors?

Cris.

This 'tis to be so long in the Country; Do you not know what I mean?

Lov.

Not I.

Cris.

Why I mean a certain Order, more famous then that of Mal∣ta, the Garter, Saint Esprit, or the Golden-fleece, a race of Adventurers, who, out of what strange humor I cannot tell, have usurped the name of that famous Trojane Prince.

Kn.

A Prince! a Pander, a fellow was kill'd in the quarrel of a whore.

Cr.

And afterwards, Sir (as I have heard) dragged at a Carts tail.

Lov.

Believe me, a very proper patron.

Cris.

But whether is your Cozen gone?

Know.

The little Gentlewoman, Lady, went out presently after Mr. La-gul.

Lov.

Poor silly Girle! She cannot though but put me in mind of my own folly, for (I must confesse) when I was of her years, I did not a little admire this same Gentleman; but a little time did teach me more wit.

Cris.

Yet still you did retain him though—

Lov.

Why such a one for some businesses, I will assure you, will not do amisse.

Cris.

I must confesse, for a walk or such a matter he may be as re∣quisite as the Satin-peticoat.

Lov.

And, believe me, I think a handsome young Gentleman, his hair neatly curled and powdered, sitting beside one in the boot of a Coach with his hat in one hand, may become the Coach as well, and be as necessary an appurtenance, as the rich Scarlet Livery, or the plu∣med Lacqueyes; and for treatments and such kind of things, you do not know the pleasure such a one may do.

Cris.

But Cozen, you are well enough served, for I have heard that he will talk a little mystically sometimes; what, do you think men are fools, spend their money for nothing?—

Know.

Well, Ladies, my knowledg is not a little engaged to you as to this Gentleman.

Cris.

Truly Sir not much, no more then it would have been to a day or twoes acquaintance with him.

Know.

But (Lady) I had almost forgot, how stand your resolutions for to night?

Cris.

If you please Sir, I shall be ready at eight a clock.

Know.

Lady, 'Tis a thing that company much improves.—Where∣fore if you please.—

Cris.

I, I, she shall come.

Lov.

Sir, 'Tis well you used that Argument, for I must confesse, all that I can do in company is but to adde to the number.

Know.

What must I say then? I have e'en pull'd an old house on my head.

Aside.

Your further acquaintance (Madam) may furnish me with better Ar∣guments; but, me thinks though, to help to increase a number is none of the worst things a fair Lady is good for. Well (Ladies) seeing you do intend to meet, I must go and take some order about things.— But stay, what shall I do with this same sword?

Lov.

Sir, if you please to leave it with me, I will see it restored.

Know.

I shall rely upon you(Lady) to do it.

Gives it her. Exit.

Cris.

How now Cuz? What thinkest thou? What, is he a fool?

Lov.

I must needs say, I was a little deceived in him. But stay, this Mr. Lagul is as fit a man as I could possibly have thought of, and my having his sword, will give me a good opportunity to crave this courtesie of him. I will go therefore and find him out as soon as I can.

Aside. Exit.

Cris.

alone.

Happy you nobler substances that purely do impart what ever images your minds do form, and ca•• transfer your thought re∣sembling species, without the abuse of this adulterating matter; mat∣ter that our souls doth dresse in such disguising garbs; Don't Educa∣tion, Custom and long use disfigure us enough? A few distant leagues making us to stare at one another as at some monstrous things: Will not the state fucus, and the holy Varnish serve, with all Arts antick Wardrobe, but that each soul must wear a natural mask, and such improving glosses and allaying dashes, take from the nice sitting of this

clayie Suit. Some whose flashy airy souls (if by judgment grasp'd) like air come to nothing, yet meeting with strange happy accidents, with a slye fallacy deceive even sober minds; each action drawes atten∣tion, and each word regard; Their talk, though vain and empty, some odd, I know not whats, doth so become and grace, that the de∣ceived fancy (as when one looks through some false mediums or abu∣sing Opticks) cannot but conceit strange shapes of Wit, which else would not appear. But this same Gentleman, (had not his better Fortune enforced my notice with a little acquaintance) I had o're passed him as one of the common things of the world, but now, me thinks, I do begin to see a glimmering worth, though muffled with dis∣advantages.

Exit.

The end of the first Act.