Fifty comedies and tragedies written by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Gentlemen ; all in one volume, published by the authors original copies, the songs to each play being added.

SCENE III.

Enter La-Castre, Natolet, Lugien, Rosa Lieura, Lylia-Biancha.

La-Cas.

You and your beauteous daughters are most welcome, Beshrew my blood they are fair ones; welcom Beauties, Welcome, sweet Birds.

Nat.

They are bound much to your courtesies.

La-Cas.

I hope we shall be nearer acquainted.

Nat.

That's my hope too. For certain, Sir, I much desire your Alliance: You see 'em, they are no Gypsies, for their breeding, It has not been so coarse, but they are able To rank themselves with women of fair fashion; Indeed they have been trained well.

Lug.

Thank me.

Nat.

Fit for the Heirs of that State I shall leave 'em; To say more, is to sell 'em. They say your Son Now he has travell'd must be wondrous curious, And choice in what he takes: these are no coarse ones; Sir, here's a merry wench, let him look to himself, (All heart, i'faith) may chance to startle him; For all his care, and travell'd caution, May creep into his Eye; if he love Gravity, Affect a solemn face, there's one will fit him.

La-C.

So young, and so demure?

Nat.

She is my Daughter,

Else I would tell you, Sir, she is a Mistriss Both of those manners and that modesty You would wonder at: She is no often Speaker, But when she does, she speaks well; Nor no Reveller, Yet she can dance, and has studied the Court Elements, And sings, as some say, handsomely; if a woman, With the decency of her Sex, may be a Scholar, I can assure ye, Sir, she understands too.

La C.

These are fit Garments, Sir.

Lug.

Thank them that cut 'em; Yes, they are handsome women; they have handsome parts too; Pretty becoming parts.

La-C.

'Tis like they have, Sir.

Lug.

Yes, yes, and handsome Education they have had too, Had it abundantly: they need not blush at it; I taught it, I'll avouch it.

La C.

You say well, Sir.

Lug.

I know what I say, Sir, and I say but right, Sir; I am no Trumpet of their Commendations Before their Father; else I should say farther.

La C.

'Pray ye, what's this Gentleman?

Nat.

One that lives with me, Sir; A man well bred and learn'd, but blunt and bitter, Yet it offends no wise man; I take pleasure in't: Many fair gifts he has, in some of which That lye most easie to their understandings, H'as handsomely bred up my Girls, I thank him. I have put it to 'em, that's my part, I have urg'd it, It seems they are of years now to take hold on't. He's wondrous blunt.

La C.

By my faith I was afraid of him: Does he not fall out with the Gentlewomen sometimes?

Nat.

No, no, he's that way moderate, and discreet, Sir.

Ros.

If he did, we should be too hard for him.

Lug.

Well said Sulphur: Too hard for thy Husbands head if he wear not armour.

Enter Mirabel, Pinac, De-Gard, and Oriana.

Nat.

Many of these bickrings, Sir.

La-C.

I am glad they are no Oracles; Sure, as I live, he beats them, he's so puisant.

Or

Well, if ye do forget—

Mir.

Prithee hold thy peace; I know thou art a pretty wench; I know thou lov'st me, Preserve it till we have a fit time to discourse on't, And a fit place: I'll ease thy heart I warrant thee: Thou seest I have much to do now.

Or.

I am answer'd, Sir: With me ye shall have nothing on these conditions.

De Gard.

Your Father and your friends.

La C.

You are welcome home, Sir; 'Bless ye, ye are very welcome: 'Pray know this Gentleman, And these fair Ladies.

Nat.

Monsieur Mirabell, I am much affected with your fair return, Sir; You bring a general joy.

Mir.

I bring you service, And these bright Beauties, Sir.

Nat.

Welcome home, Gentlemen, Welcome, with all my heart.

Bel. Pin.

We thank ye, Sir.

La C.

Your friends will have their share too.

Bel.

Sir, we hope They'll look upon us, though we shew like strangers.

Nat.

Monsieur De Gard, I must salute you also, And this fair Gentlewoman: you are welcome from your Travel too. All welcome, all.

De Gard.

We render ye our loves, Sir: The best Wealth we bring home: By your Favours, Beauties, One of these two: you know my meaning.

Or.

Well, Sir: They are fair and handsom, I must needs confess it; And let it prove the worst, I shall live after it, Whilst I have meat and drink Love cannot starve me; For if I dye o' th' first fit I am unhappy, And worthy to be buried with my heels upward.

Mir.

To marry, Sir?

La C.

You know I am an old man, And every hour declining to my Grave, One foot already in, more Sons I have not, Nor more I dare not seek whilst you are worthy, In you lies all my hope, and all my name, The making good or wretched of my memory, The safety of my state.

Mir.

And you have provided Out of this tenderness these handsom Gentlewomen, Daughters to this rich man, to take my choice of?

La-C.

I have, dear Son.

Mir.

'Tis true, ye are old, and feebled; Would ye were young again, and in full vigor; I love a bounteous Fathers life, a long one, I am none of those that when they shoot to ripeness, Do what they can to break the boughs they grew on; I wish ye many years and many Riches, And pleasures to enjoy 'em: But for Marriage, I neither yet believe in't, nor affect it, Nor think it fit.

La-C.

You will render me your reasons?

Mir.

Yes, Sir, both short and pithy, and these they are: You would have me marry a Maid?

La-C.

A Maid? what else?

Mir.

Yes, there be things called Widows, dead mens Wills, I never lov'd to prove those; nor never long'd yet To be buried alive in another mans cold monument. And there be maids appearing, and maids being: The appearing are fantastick things, meer shadows; And if you mark 'em well, they want their heads too; Only the World to cozen misty eyes, Has clapt 'em on new faces. The maids being, A man may venture on if he 〈…〉〈…〉 to marry; If he have neither fear bef•••••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 eyes, nor fortune; And let him take heed how he gathers these too, For look ye, father they are just like melons, Musk melons are the emblems of these maids; Now they are ripe, now cut 'em, they taste pleasantly, And are a dainty fruit digested easily: Neglect this present time, and come to morrow, They are so ripe they are rotten gone, their sweetness Run into humour, and their taste to surfeit.

La C.

Why, these are now ripe, Son.

Mir

I'll try them presently, And if I like their taste—

La-C.

'Pray ye please your self, Sir.

Mir.

That liberty is my due, and I'll maintain it: Lady, what think you of a handsom man now?

Ros.

A wholsom too, Sir.

Mir.

That's as you make your Bargain. A handsom, wholsom man then, and a kind man, To cheer your heart up, to rejoyce you, Lady?

Ros.

Yes Sir, I love rejoycing.

Mir.

To lye close to you? Close as a Cockle? keep the cold nights from you?

Ros.

That will be lookt for too, our bodies ask it.

Mir.

And get two Boys at every Birth?

Ros.

That's nothing, I have known a Cobler do it, a poor thin Cobler; A Cobler out of mouldy Cheese perform it, Cabbage, and coarse black Bread; methinks a Gentleman Should take foul scorn to have an awl outname him. Two at a Birth? why, every house-Dove has it: That man that feeds well, promises as well too, I should expect indeed something of worth from. Ye talk of two?

Mir.

She would have me get two dozen, Like Buttons, at a Birth.

Ros.

You love to brag, Sir. If you proclaim these offers at your Marriage,

You are a pretty timber'd man, take heed. They may be taken hold of, and expected, Yes, if not hoped for at a higher rate too.

Mir.

I will take heed, and thank ye for your counsel: Father, what think you?

La-C.

'Tis a merry Gentlewoman; Will make, no doubt, a good wife.

Mir.

Not for me: I marry her, and happily get nothing; In what a state am I then? Father, I shall suffer For any thing I hear to the contrary, more majorum, I were as sure to be a Cuckold, Father, A Gentleman of Antler.

La C.

Away, away, fool.

Mir.

As I am sure to fail her expectation, I had rather get the Pox than get her Babies.

La-C.

Ye are much to blame; if this do not affect ye, 'Pray try the other; she's of a more demure way.

Bel.

That I had but the audacity to talk thus! I love that plain-spoken Gentlewoman admirably, And certain I could go as near to please her, If down-right doing— she has a per'lous Countenance, If I could meet one that would believe me, And take my honest meaning without circumstance.

Mir.

You shall have your will, Sir, I will try the other, But 'twill be to small use. I hope, fair Lady (For methinks in your eyes I see more mercy) You will enjoin your Lover a less penance; And though I'll promise much, as men are liberal, And vow an ample sacrifice of service, Yet your discretion, and your tenderness, And thriftiness in Love, good huswives carefulness To keep the stock entire—

Lil.

Good Sir, speak louder, That these may witness too ye talk of nothing, I should be loth alone to bear the burthen Of so much indiscretion.

Mir.

Hark ye, hark ye; Ods bobs, you are angry, Lady.

Lil.

Angry? no, Sir; I never own'd an anger to lose poorly.

Mir.

But you can love for all this, and delight too, For all your set-austerity, to hear Of a good husband, Lady?

Lil.

You say true, Sir: For by my troth, I have heard of none these ten years, They are so rare, and there are so many, Sir, So many longing women on their knees too, That pray the dropping down of these good husbands, The droping down from heaven; for they are not bred there. That you may guess at all my hope, but hearing—

Mir.

Why may not I be one?

Lil.

You were near 'em once, Sir, When ye came over the Alpes; those are near Heaven; But since ye miss'd that happiness, there is no hope of ye.

Mir.

Can ye love a man?

Lil.

Yes, if the man be lovely; That is, be honest, modest; I would have him valiant, His anger slow, but certain for his honour; Travell'd he should be, but through himself exactly; For 'tis fairer to know manners well than Countries; He must be no vain Talker, nor no Lover To hear himself talk, they are brags of a wanderer, Of one finds no retreict for fair behaviour; Would ye learn more?

Mir.

Yes.

Lil.

Learn to hold your peace then, Fond Girls are got with tongues, women with tempers.

Mir.

Women, with I know what; but let this vanish: Go thy way good Wife Bias; sure thy Husband Must have a strong Philosophers stone, he will ne'r please thee else. Here's a starcht piece of austerity; do you hear, Father? Do you hear this moral Lecture?

La C.

Yes, and like it.

Mir.

Why, there's your judgment now; there's an old bolt shot: This thing must have the strangest observation, Do you mark me (father?) when she is married once, The strangest custom too of admiration On all she does and speaks, 'twill be past sufferance; I must not lie with her in common language, Nor cry have at thee, Kate, I shall be hiss'd then; Nor eat my meat without the sawce of sentences, Your powder'd Beef, and Problems, a rare diet; My first Son, Monsieur Aristotle, I know it, Great Master of the Metaphysicks, or so; The second Solon, and the best Law-setter; And I must look Egyptian God fathers, Which will be no small trouble: my eldest daughter Sapho, or such a si••••ling kind of Poetess, And brought up, invita Minerva, at her needle. My dogs must look their names too, and all Spartan, Lelaps, Melampus; no more Fox and Baudiface. I married to a sullen set of sentences? To one that weighs her words and her behaviours In the gold-weights of discretion? I'll be hang'd first.

La-C.

Prithee reclaim thy self.

Mir.

'Pray ye give me time then; If they can set me any thing to play at, That seems fit for a Gamester, have at the fairest Till I see more, and try more.

La-C.

Take your time then, I'll bar ye no fair liberty: come Gentlemen, And Ladies come: to all once more welcome, And now let's in to supper.

Mir.

How dost' like 'em?

Pin.

They are fair enough, but of so strange behaviours.

Mir.

Too strange for me; I must have those have mettle, And mettle to my mind; Come, let's be merry.

Bel.

'Bless me from this woman: I would stand the Cannon Before ten words of hers.

De-Gar.

Do you find him now? Do you think he will be ever firm?

Or.

I fear not.

Exeunt.