ACT TWO*
2.1
FITCHOW enters.*

179FitchowThe strangeness of this gentleman’s action will not out of my mind yet. Sir Philip could not but have a hand in it. Does he repent his bargain already and desire to be quit with loss of his earnest*? ’Tis but his faith and troth.
WIGEON [and] ANVIL enter.

180WigeonSister, where are you? My governor and I are come to wait upon you in Sir Philip Luckless’s coach. It waits at door for you; and what to do, think you?

181FitchowI cannot tell. Perhaps to invite me forth into the air of Hyde Park* or Marylebone*; or else —

182WigeonOr else me no ‘or elses’, sister; you cannot guess it. And I was a fool to ask you the question, now I think on’t.

183FitchowThat was well remembered, brother.

184WigeonSister, you are to be a lady within this half-hour. Your knight is ready, so is the parson too. My governor here knows.

185AnvilYes, lady; and that he entreats you to bear with the suddenness of the occasion, which he protests deeply urges him to be married presently, desiring you not to trouble yourself in examination of his reasons, for upon his honesty and honour the end of it is for good to you both. Come, sweet madam — now I am bold to give you your due title — your knight is ready present on his adventures*, d’ye hear, and ’tis only you that he seeks to encounter.

186Wigeon   [Aside]   There’s a jest, now, but she understands it not. He makes her an infidel, a wild beast or a monster, by that word ‘encounter’. What do knight-adventurers encounter else? Look all the Mirror* over. He’ll encounter her. Oh, the wit of a governor!

187Anvil’Tis as I say, Madam, d’ye hear? The good fit’s come on him.

188Wigeon   [Aside]   Ever at the tail of his ‘d’ye hear’, I am sure to smell a jest: ‘the fit’s come on him’!

189Fitchow   [Aside]   This sudden importunity confirms my former doubt. He thinks his scarecrow will make me keep off now; but he is cozened.   [To ANVIL]   Well, sir. He shall find me obedient to his hand. I am in all prepared to meet his purposes.   [To WIGEON]   Though, brother, I had thought to [have] had conference this morning with Sir Paul Squelch touching a match for you.

190WigeonFor me, sister? Ha’ you found out a wife for me? Ha’ you? Pray, speak; ha’ you?

191FitchowAnd a good match too, brother: Sir Paul’s niece, on whom he, being childless, means to bestow a large dowry.

192WigeonBy my faith, and he may do’t. He is rich, governor; one of the best ten i’ th’ hundred men about this town*.

193FitchowHe is a right good man.   [Calls offstage]   Within there.
HOWDEE enters


Bid Flaps*, your fellow*, bring my fan and mask.HOWDEE exit[s].

194AnvilIs he bounteous and liberal, ha? Does he make large suppers* and lend money? D’ye hear? Is he good at that?

195WigeonNay, there you mistake, governor. A good man i’the city is not called after his good deeds, but the known weight of his purse. One whose name any usurer can read without spectacles; one that can take up more with two fingers and a thumb upon the Exchange* than the great man at court can lift with both his hands; one that is good only in riches and wears nothing rich about him, but the gout or a thumb-ring* with his grandsire’s sheepmark or grannam’s butter-print on’t, to seal bags*, acquittances, and counterpanes.
[FLAPS the chamber] maid [and] HOWDEE enter with mask and fan.

196AnvilA butter-print?

197WigeonAy, ’twere a cunning herald could find better arms* for some of ’em. Though I have heard Sir Paul Squelch protest he was a gentleman and might quarter a coat* by his wife’s side. Yet I know he was but a grazier when he left the country; and my lord, his father, whistled to a team of horses* (they were his own, indeed.) But now he is right worshipful, and I would I had his niece unsight and unseen, i’faith, for her money’s sake. You never heard me ask if she were fair or handsome, d’ye mark that, sister? My father’s rule right! And if I be not a true Wigeon, God forgi’me, I think he was none.

198FitchowBut she is very fair, brother, and very handsome, and the prettiest, innocent, country thing withal. Do I want nothing here?

199WigeonAy, now you bring me to bed, sister.

200FlapsYour mask fits well, forsooth.

201FitchowBut where’s my wimple, forsooth?

202FlapsUpon the cupboard’s head, pray. Humphrey, fetch it.HOWDEE exits.

203WigeonHe lives not that loves a country thing like me. Alas, none loves a country thing like me. And though I am a cockney* and was never further than Hammersmith*, I have read The Countryman’s Commonwealth*, and can discourse of socage and tenure, freehold, copyhold, lease, demeans, fee-simple and fee-tail, plowing, hedging, diking, grubbing, occupying any country thing whatsoever, and take as much pleasure in’t as the best clown born of ’em all.

204FitchowAnd she is very young, not above fifteen, brother. How this fellow* stays!   [To FLAPS]   Go, you.[FLAPS the chamber]maid exit[s].

205AnvilAnd that’s a safe age for a maid in the country, d’ye hear?

206WigeonPardon me, governor, I do hear and not hear thee at this time.

207FitchowAnd sings and speaks so pretty northernly, they say.

208AnvilIs she northern, d’ye hear? Will she not shrink i’the wetting*?

209WigeonGovernor, I know thou spokest a jest now by thy ‘d’ye hear’: but prithee, forgive me, I cannot applaud, nor mark thee at this time.
HOWDEE enters with a wimble.

210FitchowWhat makes you stay so? I fear you have been among my sweetmeats.

211HowdeeShe said it was upon the cupboard and it was under the cupboard.

212FitchowIs this my wimple? Do you bring carpenter’s tools to dress me withall?*
[FLAPS enters with a wimple.]

213FlapsHere is your wimple, forsooth.

214Fitchow   [To HOWDEE]   I shall teach you to know a difference between gentlewoman’s gear and carpenter’s tools, I shall.

215WigeonNay, she is so vexed now! Dear sister, to the country lass again. You said she spoke and sung northernly. I have a great many southern songs* already. But northern airs* nips it dead. ‘York, York, for my money!’*

216FitchowYes, brother, she is northern and speaks so; for she has ever lived in the country, till this last week her uncle sent for her up to make her his child, out of the bishopric of Durham.

217WigeonBishop nor bishopric shall hold her from me.

218FitchowAnd brother —

219WigeonSister, no more; though I have never seen her*. No bishopric i’the land from me shall win her. If you will go and clap hands with your knight, come. I would see you matched first, because that will add some honour to the Wigeons when myself shall be brother to a lady. I shall write first of that name. And then am I no sooner married, governor, but we will set our travels afoot*: to know countries, and nations, sects and factions, men and manners, language and behaviour.
        And so in height of compliment grow complete,*
        More goes to making of a man than meat.All exit.
2.2*
TRAINWELL [and] CONSTANCE enter.

220TrainwellPray tell me, and tell me truly. What is the most has passed between you? If it be the main loss of your maidenhead, it shall ne’er go further: therefore, let me know it.

221ConstanceAs I live, Mistress Trainwell, all that e’er he had o’me, was but a kiss. But I mun tell yee*, I wished it a thoosand, thoosand till him.

222TrainwellHow often have you seen him?

223ConstanceFeath, but that bare eance nother*, and yourseln were by too. Trow ye that I’d not tell ye and twere maer. By my conscience, Mistress Trainwell, I lee* not.

224TrainwellThat once that I saw him with you —your uncle was there too, in the orchard — but last week.

225ConstanceVary true. Mine uncle was then by too. And he brought Sir Philip to see his orchard. And what did he then do, trow you, but tuke me thus by th’ haund, and thus he kust me   [Takes Mistress TRAINWELL by the hand and kisses her on it.]   He said I were a deaft* lass, but there he feigned. But for my life I could not but think he war the likest* man that I had seen with mine eyne; and could not devaise the thing I had might be unbeggen* by him. Then by and by as we walked, he asked mine uncle gin he would give him me to make a lady till* him. And by my trouth, Mistress Trainwell, I lee not, I blushed and luk’d upon him as I would fain a hed it so. Mine uncle said ‘yes’, and Sir Philip shuke my haund, and, gude feath, my heart joyed at it. God gin the priest had been by! But I thought all sure enough, and would not ha’ sold my part for the Spanish Lady’s joincture*. But straight anon mine uncle and he fell on other talk; of lords and ladies, and many fond like things. I minded not, for I is weell sure this keept me waking ere sine*. And, God pardon me, what I misthought every hour i’ th’ night!.

226TrainwellHow have you made me wrong this gentleman? To challenge him as if he had been your due upon this idle compliment? When I undertook the message I presumed — for so your words did intimate to me — you had been sure, as fast as faith could bind you, man and wife. Where was my discretion? Now I perceive this was but common courtship and no assurance of a marriage promise.

227ConstanceI wot not what he meant. But I is weell sure, I’ll ne’er be sure to ony man but he. And if he love me not as weell, God pardon him. For I meant him none ill.

228TrainwellI know not how to counsel or comfort you until I hear him speak. My man tells me he appointed him to meet and bring him to you about this hour. Poor heart, I pity thee. Before thou come to half my years thou wilt forget to love half so truly.
BEAVIS enters.

229BeavisMistress.

230TrainwellOh, are you come? Where’s the knight?

231BeavisHe stays below, and willed me to come up first to make his passage clear and secure.

232TrainwellThat was discretion*.

233BeavisRather fear, I think. For he asked me if the house were not much haunted with roarers or swaggerers, poniards and pistols; whether there were not an assurer for it as upon the Exchange*, as if his life were upon hazard; whether a man might come on without loss of credit, and off without need of a surgeon? Much odd talk he delivers, that in my conceit bewrays at once both a lascivious and cowardly disposition, and upon my understanding cannot be so generous or nobly spirited as he is received, do what you will.

234Trainwell   [Aside]   I suspect something.

235ConstanceWill he not come, Mistress Trainwell?

236TrainwellYes, sweetheart. But go you to your chamber* and let me have a word before you see him.   [To BEAVIS]   Go, call him in.   [To CONSTANCE]   Do so, sweetheart. I’ll not be long.

237ConstanceI’ll do ought you bid me. God gin I saw him eance.CONSTANCE [TRAINWELL, and BEAVIS] exit.*
ANVIL [and] BEAVIS enter.*

238AnvilA place of fair promising! How have I lived that never discovered this place before*? This place royal*! But sought my recreation in by-lanes and sluttish corners, unsavoury alleys and ditchsides, when here the whole house is perfumed. An earl might think it his own lodging; ladies might come to see the pictures* and not blush to go in or out unmasked.
TRAINWELL enters.

239Beavis   [Gestures towards TRAINWELL.]   Sir, will you speak to my mistress?   [Aside]   The man is transported sure!

240AnvilI understand thy office leads thee no further; thy pains are abroad and below stairs. Here, honest Fetch.   [Hands BEAVIS money]   Look thee, here’s the poor price of a new pair of shoes; take it. Descend*, and execute thy duty.BEAVIS exit[s].

241Trainwell   [Aside]   Bless me, this is another man! More abuse yet?

242AnvilNow, gentlewoman, to you. What fees belong to your key?* Come, where’s the bed, where’s the party*? Here’s the man, here’s the money.   [Hands TRAINWELL money]   Chunk, chunk, you old gamester, do’st hear? Here’s half a piece to buy thee complexion, sack or aqua-vitae, what thou lik’st.

243TrainwellWhat are you, sir, I pray?

244AnvilFaith, one that’s a little ill-given at this time. Where’s the piece? Here are the pieces I tell thee.

245TrainwellWhat piece, sir? If you can imagine what you are, where you are, what you would have, or where you would be, I pray tell me, sir. I’ll do the best I can to satisfy you. On my discretion will I, sir.

246AnvilGive me but a little space to wonder at thy strange demands and I will tell thee, good Discretion.   [Aside]*   If I should purchase a broken coxcomb or bruised ribs now for mistaking another man’s habit, the smart were only mine. The villain swore to me his master was sent for; and that his master swore this was a bawd to his choice whore, newly entertained; and that she knew not him, and might well mistake me for him. On which presumption I have waded thus far and if I stick in the mud or be driven back by a tempest I am armed*.   [To TRAINWELL]   ’Tis not the first time I have been weather-beaten or dry-beaten, d’ye hear?


248AnvilYou do not know me or at least not remember me?

249TrainwellIf I err therein, sir, I hope your pardon. For as you shall reveal yourself, I shall either repent me of my oblivion or accuse you of unadvisedness.

250Anvil   [Aside]   She speaks like the wife of an orator that could dictate her husband’s speeches!*   [To TRAINWELL]   Were not you this morning at Sir Philip Luckless’s lodging? Spoke not you with him? Sent you not for him afterwards to repair hither to the party? And know you not the man?

251Trainwell   [Aside]   Oh, infinite abuse!   [To ANVIL]   Sir, I cry you mercy. I hope you will pardon my weak-sightedness. The world’s bad, and we love to deal securely. Could not your worship make yourself known sooner? Please you to entertain yourself here a while. I will instantly provide for your better welcome.   [Aside]   O horrible indignity! But if porters and cudgels may be had for money* and I fit you not, let me lose my discretion. I am furnished with blankets* already —[TRAINWELL] exit[s].*

252Anvil‘I will instantly provide for your better welcome!’ Will you so? Twill pass; and by this light I think for my master’s jest I will recover my charges and gain over and above for three returns more with the bare repetition of it out of one man’s purse, the wigeon. My jests are his nutriment, and my wit is his own; he pays too, duly, for it. If the wench be but pleasing, now, to my expectation, my felicity is crowned.
[TRAINWELL and CONSTANCE enter above.]*

253TrainwellOh, child, we are undone.

254ConstanceMarry, God shield, Mistress Trainwell. Is he geane*? Must I not see him?

255TrainwellAlas, it is not he, but some villain sent by him to vex and spite you. One that persuades himself we are of those common creatures that sell their honesties.

256ConstanceHeaven bless us, and give us leave to dee* first. Can he be so unkaind, to scorn me so? Woe is me.

257TrainwellHe is so dishonourable. But I will fit his undertaker, what e’er he be. Look you, is that he, think you?

258ConstanceOh, weell a near, Mistress Trainwell! Sir Philip is the likest* man that e’er you saw days o’your life*. This lozel* dow not. Nor would he send him; so trim a man cannot have sike bad purpose.
BEAVIS enters [above.]

259BeavisMistress, there’s a gentleman, one Master Triedwell, that says he is Sir Philip’s kinsman, will by all means speak with him.

260TrainwellSweetheart, can you dissemble your sorrow with a song to pass a little time? I’ll down and sift out the subtlety of this deceit.[TRAINWELL and BEAVIS exit from the above.]*

261AnvilThere is no government under the sun like the politic government of a bawdy-house.
[CONSTANCE] sings above.

262ConstanceYou say my love is but a man,*
             But I can find more odds,
             ’Twixt him and others than I can,
             Find between him and Gods
             He has in’s eye
             Such majesty.
             His shape is so divine
             That were I owner of the world,
             He only should be mine.[CONSTANCE exits from the above.]

263AnvilSweet prologue to the insuing interlude!
BEAVIS enters.

Dost hear me, honest fellow? Was this the party’s voice?

264BeavisOnly hers, upon my sincerity, sir.

265AnvilExcellent! She has raised my desire above her notes. Why am I thus ravished and yet delayed?

266BeavisSir, for that my mistress craves your pardon. ’Tis not her neglect that works upon your patience, but the necessity to rid a troublesome Lord or two out of the house, before the party can appear to you. But please you to obscure yourself in this dark closet* while I convey them hence, and then, instantly, the top gallant of pleasure shall crown your main-mast, she says.

267AnvilOh, how her wit and care revives me! From hence forth she is my bawd forever. My Discretion! But are they wholesome Lords*, sirrah?

268Beavis’Tis no matter for anything they did here, sir, I warrant you. In, quickly, pray sir.

269AnvilMust I be locked in?

270BeavisYou cannot be safe else, sir.

271AnvilThe politic government of this little commonwealth![Enters into the closet.]*[BEAVIS exits.]
TRIEDWELL [and] TRAINWELL enter.

272TriedwellIndeed, lady, I am so far from being in any plot herein, that I protest it was merely by his outside, and that in the doubtful light of the evening*, that I could guess ’twas he. And had he been denied, I had gone well satisfied, it had been some other man; which if it prove, and so his name be abused, or if it be he indeed, though hitherto my most respected cousin, that offers such an outrage as you deliver it to be. I am so much a friend to honesty that, let me but see the man or beast, I’ll do the fair office of a gentleman to right you. Indeed, lady, I will.

273TrainwellYou profess nobly, sir. First, will it please you see this gentlewoman, so much the servant of your kinsman? What she is I have told you. Only I present her to your judgement, whether her outward seeming may deserve such scorn?
CONSTANCE enters.

274TriedwellAlas, fair lady, would they injure you?

275ConstanceYea feath, and scorn me too sir. Ill betide them. But and you do me help and make Sir Philip love me, God reward you.

276TriedwellAnd has your youth and beauty placed your love on him?

277ConstanceGude feath, sir, I may not say how weell I love him. But were I one of ne'er a mickle, heest eene have all*. And yet he loves me not.

278TriedwellIndeed, ’tis pitiful. Weep not, sweet lady. He shall love ye.

279ConstanceNow God’s benison light o’ye for it.

280TriedwellShow me the mischief that hath abused us all. Can you conceal him longer?

281TrainwellIn thus much to conjure you by your manhood to do nothing that law may question to your, or our, disadvantage. We shall not need for our own right to do ourselves misdeed. Therefore take this in hand —[Hands him] a rope’s end.*

282TriedwellYou do instruct me well. Pray, let me see him.
ANVIL [comes] out of the closet.

283AnvilOh, for a large window, one of the last edition*, to leap out with half my life or limbs!

284ConstanceLo’ye, lo’ye; the worst like man to Sir Philip ye saw in all your days.

285TriedwellMischievous devil! What magical madness conjured you into this shape? Indeed, I’ll conjure you out on’t.[TRIEDWELL beats ANVIL throughout this exchange.]

286AnvilOh, hold; for heaven’s sake, hold! I’ll confess!
Beats him.

287TriedwellNay, indeed, I’ll beat you a little first; you’ll confess the better. ’Twill come the easier from you. ’Tis a good preparative.

288AnvilOh, oh; I’ll confess anything!

289TriedwellNo, sir, not anything. But the truth, the truth, sir.

290AnvilThe truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me —*

291TriedwellYou would be swearing now, would you? There’s for that.

292AnvilNo, indeed, indeed, and indeed, la, I will not.

293TrainwellGood sir, no more. What may this poor thing be that bravest it so but now?

294TriedwellI’ll tell you, lady: the most notorious, base, beaten rascal about the town. ’Twere lost breath to say more by him. He is as you see. Only his name is Anvil, and they that know him not call him ‘Captain’*.

295Beavis*Anvil? Pray, sir, let me try my blade* on him too.

296TriedwellI pray thee do to save me a labour, for he is not half beaten yet.
BEAVIS beats him.

297AnvilOh, oh, ladies, speak for me! Ha’ you no mercy?

298TrainwellHold. No more.
[TRIEDWELL and BEAVIS cease beating ANVIL.]

299TriedwellWell, sir, thank the ladies. Now, sir, put this lady’s favour* here in your pocket   [Hands him the rope's end]   and keep it there till I call for it. And, mark what I say, if ever I find thee without this instrument, or the like, when I shall call for it to beat thee, mark me indeed, I’ll beat thee dead. And now to your examination. How got your rotten muttonship* into this lion’s case*? Was it by the owner’s knowledge? Was the master of these clothes privy to your undertaking? Answer, sirrah, bona fide, aye or no.

300AnvilNo, upon my life. Only his man abused me for my money.

301TriedwellWhat presumption made you think so vilely of these gentlewomen?

302AnvilSir Philip’s own words to his man upon a letter this lady delivered to him this morning.

303TriedwellThe error’s found. Her name you say is Constance, which likewise is the name of a prostituted strumpet with whom, ’tis thought, the wantonness of his youth hath held former familiarity; and now it seems makes doubt*, imagining that letter to be hers, that she pretends a claim to him.

304AnvilRight, sir; which he took so contemptuously that instantly he resolved to marry the widow, Mistress Fitchow, and was this morning married privately in a chamber, within an hour after you saw him.

305ConstanceAnd I undone then.

306Triedwell   [Aside]   And I, if it be so.

307AnvilIt is undoubtedly true. I saw them married and dined with them at his lodging, where they will sup too. But after supper they go to her house in the town — to bed.

308TriedwellThis foul mistaking we shall all repent, if we prevent not what may issue from it.

309TrainwellAlas, sir, all will be too late.

310TriedwellWill you but trust my service for your honour?

311TrainwellWe will wait on you, sir.

312Triedwell*Then, sir, for this time you shall be reprieved*
        From further penance. Rise and be our guide.
        But keep your fear still, for if all our art
        Miscarry, thou art sure to share the smart.TRIEDWELL [TRAINWELL, CONSTANCE, and ANVIL] exit.
2.3
PATE [and] HOWDEE enter.

313PateBrother Humphrey, take my hand and word for thy instructions. I will acquaint thee with an old lady’s usher in the Strand* that shall give thee thy gait, thy postures, thy language, thy habit, and thy whole charge in so plain a method, that thou shalt instantly start up as pretty a gentleman-usher, none dispraised, as any between Temple Bar and Charing Cross*. Marry, further I cannot promise you. But prithee tell mee. Is our lady of so hot a temper and stately carriage as she is reputed?

314HowdeeOh, aye, brother. She must command all or all shall smoke for’t. She did so in my old Master’s days I am sure; and he glad of peace at that rate* too.

315PateBut how is she to her servants? Bountiful and free?

316HowdeeYes, both of her voice and hands.

317PateShe will not strike, will she?

318HowdeeAnd she could bite as well; the rankest jade that e’er was curried could not come near her*.

319PateHeaven be good to us! She ne’er struck thee, did she?

320Howdee’Tis no matter for that.

321PateNay, brother, you know we have vowed to be all one: the marriage hath united us. Prithee, tell me.

322HowdeeShe broke me a tooth once with a death’s-head ring* on her finger. It had like to ha’ cost me my life! It has been a true memento* to me ever since. Bobs o’the lips, tweaks by the nose, cuffs o’the ear, and trenchersat my head in abundance.

323PateWill she throw too?

324HowdeeAnything she can lift. And makes us pay for all she breaks, though she break our heads or faces withall: fan-handles, looking-glasses, or anything.

325PateWe shall have a foul house on’t, I fear. But since it is too late, fight, dog; fight, bear! I’ll turn my Master loose to her. Here they come. By this light methinks they look as if they were fallen out already*.
LUCKLESS, FITCHOW, [FLAPS, a] waiting-woman, WIGEON, and
BULFINCH enter. At the other door* SQUELCH, NONSENSE, and BEAVIS.

326SquelchThough I were absent at the ceremony, I now bring my wishes of much joy.

327LucklessAnd not too late I hope, Sir Paul. We may yet carry them to bed with us.

328FitchowYou had been chiefly, sir, invited — had we not stolen a day from time — to have done a father’s part* at church, to which in your absence I entreated our worthy friend Master Apprehension Bulfinch here.

329SquelchMaster Bulfinch, I rejoice to meet you here directly. Look you, sir, do you know this young gentleman?

330BulfinchYes, sure, methinks I should know him. But I am sure I never saw him before. Ha—

331SquelchHave you forgot Sir Hercules?

332BulfinchI apprehend him to be Master Salamon Nonsense, son and heir to my right worthy friend, Sir Hercules Nonsense of Cornwall. If you be not he, sir, I am sure it is you. I may be deceived, but I am certain ’tis he.

333Luckless   [Aside]   He is doubtful, but yet he is sure he knows him. What a bulfinch* is this! Sure, ’tis his language they call bull-speaking*.

334NonsenseYou say very well, sir. And never credit me*, as you knew my father, I would be very ready, as you know how duty binds, for, because it is a usual thing in these days, desiring the love and friendship, I protest and vow, sir, I should —

335Luckless   [Aside]   Most perfect nonsense! This is a finer youth than t’other. My wife’s acquaintances are most answerable to her kindred*.

336Squelch’Tis so directly, Master Bulfinch, and I have brought him to town; I understand my niece is in your house, my lady bride. Is she employed in your chamber?

337FitchowShe is not here, sir. Is she, Howdee?

338HowdeeCertes no, Madam.

339SquelchHow, not here?! Sirrah, what did you tell me?

340Beavis   [Aside]   What shall I say or do? I shall be hanged directly.

341SquelchHow was she accompanied?

342BeavisBy my mistress, sir, and two gentlemen of her acquaintance, whose names I know not.

343SquelchKnavery, villainy, and thievery! I smell it rank. She’s stolen; she’s gone directly.

344Wigeon’Tis indirectly, sir, if she be stolen. There your word fails you.

345SquelchIf she be in the land I will recover her. I hope I shall find as much right in law as a broker or a joiner.

346FitchowGood Sir Paul, I have not seen you thus distempered. What afflicts you?

347SquelchOh, Mistress Fitchow; my niece, my niece!

348WigeonHe’s mad, I think. Sir, you forget my sister is a Lady.

349SquelchShe’s lost, she’s stolen, and all my joy is gone. My niece, my Constance.

350Luckless   [Aside]   Constance!*

351FitchowWho, your young niece that came lately out of the country?

352WigeonMy country thing*, sister, that you promised me?

353SquelchPromised you? I am abused. I do suspect you accessories. Sir, I have purposed and promised her to this gentleman. And here I charge you to restore her me.

354WigeonAre you the man, sir, that must have her?

355NonsenseNever credit me, sir, if I have her or have her not to my knowledge.

356SquelchSir Philip, you are courteous and noble; as you will continue so, in opinion of honest men, let me have right.

357LucklessSir Paul, upon my faith, I am ignorant of any such wrong. And, for her part, should she fare amiss, I should suffer in her injury equally with yourself. For I profess to you, I did love the lass so well, and at the first sight, that had I not been otherwise allotted, and indeed contracted, to her from whom now there is no starting, she should have been my bride, if all my love and fortune might have won her.

358FitchowHad you spared this protestation, sir, you might have dissembled your love to me the better!

359LucklessDissemble?

360Fitchow’Tis said, sir.

361PateBy this hand, my lady’s jealous already.

362HowdeeBless us! What looks are these!

363SquelchSir, I must take my leave; this is no time to trouble you.

364LucklessNay, good sir, stay, and share in our ill banquet.    Cornets flourish.   * Hark, some friend, I hope.   [To PATE]   Look sirrah.—PATE exit[s].

365FitchowSome of your old companions have brought you a fit of mirth, but if they enter to make a tavern of my house, I’ll add a voice to their consort shall drown all their fiddling.
PATE enters.

What are they?

366PateSome that come in gentle fashion to present a masque*.

367FitchowLock up the doors and keep them out.HOWDEE exit[s].

368LucklessBreak them open and let them in.PATE exit[s].

369FitchowShall I not be master of my own house?*

370LucklessAm not I the master of it and you?LUCKLESS exit[s].

371WigeonNay, sister —

372FitchowPassion of my heart.


374SquelchYou must allow of reasonable things.

375BulfinchBe contented. Sir Philip is a noble gentleman and a courtier and as I apprehend.

376WigeonI dare warrant you, sister, these are his friends, that come with their loves to congratulate his fortune. Speak, Master Nonsense. A speech of yours would do’t.

377NonsenseNever credit me, but I forsooth am of that opinion, that it is as it were. I protest and vow — I should be as sorry as any man —

378WigeonIf this were to be put into Latin now, which were the principal verb?

379FitchowMaster Nonsense, you have prevailed. You see I am content.   [Aside]   But what I purpose, Fate shall not prevent*.

380WigeonDid I not tell you?
LUCKLESS enters.

381LucklessMore lights, and let them enter. Gentlemen, take your places.   [Gestures to guests to sit down.]   Sir Paul, tonight forget your sorrow. So will I mine, though I renew’t tomorrow.   [Gestures to FITCHOW to sit down.]   Come, sit, sit. Mistress, please you.
[The guests, including FITCHOW, variously sit down.]

382FitchowYou wrong your honour, sir; your most humble handmaid.

383WigeonBrother, I told you always she had hasty humours, and as unreasonable as heart can wish but soon over. Now she’s as mild as any dove again.

384LucklessThen we are friends, and she’s my dove again.
Music.
The masquers enter.* All in [masks, and bearing]*willow garlands*, four men, four women*. The two first pairs are TRIEDWELL and CONSTANCE, ANVIL and TRAINWELL. Before the dance, CONSTANCE sings this song:
[sings.]

385ConstanceNor love nor fate dare I accuse,*
        For that my love did me refuse;
        But, oh, mine own unworthiness,
        That durst presume so mickle bliss.
        It was too much for me to love
        A man so like the gods above;
        An angel’s shape, a saint-like voice,
        Are too divine for human choice.
        Oh, had I wishly given my heart,
        For to have loved him but in part;
        Sought only to enjoy his face,
        Or any one peculiar grace
         Of foot, of hand, of lip, or eye,*
        I might have lived where now I die.
        But I presuming all to choose,
        Am now condemnèd all to lose.
[The masquers dance.]*
At the end of the dance, TRIEDWELL and CONSTANCE whisper with ANVIL, each of them giving him a folded paper.

386Luckless’Tis well performed. Now we would gladly know, to whom we owe our thanks.

387AnvilThat I’ll deliver to you. Meanwhile, the rest desire they may withdraw a while.

388LucklessLight and all fair respect be given unto them.All the masquers but ANVIL exit.

389SquelchThe woman’s voice had much in’t like my niece.*

390WigeonYour niece, Sir Paul?; ’od’s* me, I must go see her.

391LucklessNay, brother, give them all their free pleasures. By your leave, you shall stay.

392WigeonShall, shall I? I will then.

393AnvilNow to your patience I disclose myself.

394WigeonWhoop! My governor! Look you, sister! Look you, Sir Philip! Did not I always tell you he was the rarest wit i’the world? This was his own invention, I’ll be hanged else. Sweet governor, the conceit of the willow* and why thou wearest it?

395AnvilMyself only to make the number in the dance suitable. And so did all the rest to fulfil the fashion; only two excepted that were the leaders and subject of the dance. The one, your cousin Triedwell who holds himself a lost lover, in that you, Madam, to whom his affection is wholly devoted, have made yourself incapable of him in being the lawful right of another. This paper shows him more at large.[Hands FITCHOW one of the folded pieces of paper.]

396Luckless   [Aside]   Is’t possible? Did he for that so earnestly dissuade me from her this morning?

397FitchowI never saw him before this day, nor he me. These are tricks and studied fooleries to abuse me—
[She] tears the paper.

398LucklessWho was the other?

399AnvilShe was your fair niece, Sir Paul; the most disconsolate beauty that e’er I saw.   [Hands LUCKLESS the other piece of folded paper.]   Giving herself for ever lost unto your love, Sir Philip, presuming you once promised her marriage, of which she made a claim this morning by her nurse whom you reviled by name of bawd, calling fair Constance ‘whore’; and, to her more despite*, hastened your marriage sooner by a day than you before intended with this lady.

400Luckless   [He reads the piece of paper.]   Constance! May that name in all other women be accursed beyond themselves. Hell itself could not have vapoured such an error forth* as I am lost in. Constance! Why was that name made hers — that saint-like maid’s — when it brought to my mind a devil’s, nay worse a whore’s to whom before ’twas given?

401BulfinchSir Philip, and Madam, you apprehend these things as things done when they are not things in deed but as it were show and device, as by the sequel you may at large apprehend.

402SquelchI am of your mind, Master Bulfinch. And trust me, I am glad my niece was drawn into the witty conceit, for which with a new gown I’ll thank her.
PATE enters.

403LucklessWhere is she? I will endure no longer till I see her.

404PateThe masquers are all gone, sir.

405LucklessGone, villain?

406PateThey took their coaches instantly and dispersed themselves by several ways*. I had no commission to stay them.

407Fitchow   [Aside]   Are you so sensible of her loss?*FITCHOW exits with [FLAPS and HOWDEE]*.

408SquelchMy niece might, notwithstanding her lost love, have ta’en me home in her coach.

409LucklessYou shall have mine, Sir Paul, and my company so far to see her. And, whether their presentation were jest or earnest, I will not rest till I be satisfied. My coach!   [To FITCHOW, who has in fact already left the stage]   I’ll make no stay, sweetheart.   [To the company]   She’s gone.

410WigeonExcellent, the bride’s stolen to bed.

411SquelchIt should be so. I like the custom well.

412BulfinchFor, if you apprehend it rightly, it expresseth duty in the woman to lie prepared for him; and love in the man not to be slack to embrace that duty.

413Wigeon   [Aside]   A pretty moral! A woman’s duty to lie down and a man’s love to get up. One may learn something of these old fellows every day.

414SquelchTherefore, no coach, no company, noble knight. Pursue your home occasions*, and God gi’ye joy.

415LucklessNay, Sir Paul, I protest.

416SquelchNot a word more of it directly.

417WigeonTake me with you, good Sir Paul, to see your niece. I find Master Nonsense here very indifferent and I know ’twill be the greater joy to her to match but into the family of Sir Philip of which I am a half pillar now. Besides, my sister made me half a promise of her in good faith, my governor’s my witness, and I have loved her ever since.

418SquelchBut you never saw her face!

419WigeonNo, but I’ll be hanged if I did not love her visor* the best ere while, though I could not tell whose ’twas, nor which was which.

420SquelchGood Master Walter Wigeon, this is no time of night to dive into business of this depth. It is nestling time* I take it. How think you, Master Bulfinch?

421BulfinchI apprehend it to be past 12 o’clock very near.

422SquelchTherefore, what your sister hath promised you let her perform if she can*; meantime this gentleman is my choice. Come, Master Nonsense, you have had a long time of silence. Master Bulfinch?

423BulfinchI apprehend you, sir.

424LucklessWe’ll see you to the gate, by your leave.*All exit.

Edited by Julie Sanders