THE
NEW ACADEMY,
Or, the
NEW
Exchange.
By RICHARD BROME.
LONDON,
Printed for Andrew Crook, at the Green Dragon in
Saint Pauls Church-yard: And Henry Brome
at the Gun in Ivy–lane. 1658.
[(h2r)]
The Actors Names.
| Sir Swithin Whimlby, a melancholy Widower. Suitor to |
| the Lady Neſtlecock. |
| Old Matchil, a Merchant that married his Maid. Gabri- |
| alla’s Guardian. |
| Young Matchil his ſonne. |
| Old Lafoy a French Gentleman, Guardian to young |
| Matchil. |
| Young F. Lafoy his ſonne. |
| Mr. Hardyman, Captain Valentines Father-in-law. Han- |
| nah’s father. |
| Strigood, half brother to Matchil. |
| Valentine Askal, ſon-in-law to Hardiman. Hannah’s |
| half-brother. |
| Eraſmus a young Gentleman, his Companion and Friend. |
| Caſh, Matchils Prentice. |
| Nehemiah Neſtlecock, a fooliſh Gentleman, the Ladies |
| ſonne. |
| Ephraim, the Lady Neſtlecocks Servant. |
| Rafe Camelion an uxorious Citizen. |
| A Footpoſt. |
Papillion
Galliard | } | Two Monſieurs, alias | { | Philip
Frances | } | Matchils
and
Lafoy’s | } | Sons |
Women.
| Ladie Neſtecock, a fond Mother. |
Joyce, Matchils Daughter.
Gabriella, Lafoy’s Daughter. | } | Foſter Siſters. |
| Mrs. Blithe Tripſhort, Sir Swithin Whimlbies Neece. |
| Hannah, Camelions wife, Captain Hardimans daughter. |
| Maudlin, Matchils Maid and Wife. |
|
[(h2v)]
THE
NEW ACADEMY,
OR, THE
NEW EXCHANGE.
Act. I.
Valentine, Eraſmus.
Is this the entertainment you
promiſ’d me in the Jovial Mer-
chants houſe? Is this the great
intereſt you have in his huge hoſ-
pitality?
when by half an hours
attendance and intreats, we can-
not obtain the ſight of him.
Er.I wonder at it; Sure ſome
ſtrange diſaſter has ſuddenly befallen him. He was,
laſt night the merrieſt man alive, drank healthes;
told tales; ſung Catches;
Trowle the Bowle;
Toſſe the
Cannykin; and what not
! and all for joy, that his
ſonne, he ſaid, was upon his returne, whom he has not
ſeen theſe dozen years, ſince he ſent him a little Lad
into
France, to be bred there.
Val.I heard he did ſo; and that in lieu, by way of
HEx-
The New Academy, Or
Exchange, he brings up the daughter of the Pariſien
Val.But is that daughter ſo exquiſite a creature,
as is this Merchant
Matchills own whom you ſo much
Er.They are both ſo equally handſome, and ver-
tuous, that, be their dowries ſo, and their conſents
alike,
I’ll take my choice of croſſe and pile for either,
with ſuch a friend as thou art.
Val.Troth, and that’s friendly ſpoken,
Mus.
Er.It is ſo
Val. yet not with ſome policie do
I wiſh
thee a fortune: for, inſooth, young Gentleman,
though
I like your perſon, and ſome of your qualities,
yet by reaſon of your wants,
I finde you ſomething
heavy on my purſe-ſtrings; and my ſelfe ſcarce able
to ſupply you. And, if we faile of good matches,
I
muſt even turne you over ſhortly to the hopes you
boaſt of in your City-Myſtreſſes and Tradeſmens
Val.Peace, prythee hold thy peace.
Enter Caſh.
Friend
Caſh! Is your Maſter, Mr.
Matchill yet
at
Caſt.He much deſires, ſir, to be excus’d. ’Tis
true that he invited you. His dinner’s ready; and his
heart welcomes you. But he has met with an unhap-
Val.I feard ſome ill. What is the mat-
Caſh.His only ſonne, whom he of late expect-
ed home out of
France, we hear, is dead.
Val.His daughter will prove a bouncing match
[H1v]Caſh.
The New Exchange.
Caſh.That’s the impreſſion the heavy newes makes
Caſh.Nay, Gentlemen, although my Maſters ſud-
den ſadneſſe ſhuts him from you. His meat and wine
are ready. There are ſome good company in his Par-
Val.Are his faire daughter, and the
French-borne
Caſh.Both. Pray be pleas’d to enter.
I hope his paſſionate fit e’re you have din’d will be
paſt over. He is not wont to ſuffer long under the
’Tis like that you ſhall ſee him ere you go.
Er.In that faire hope we’ll enter and fall to.
–––Ex. Val. Er.
Caſh.’Tis like you ſhall fall ſhort though of your aim
At my young Myſtreſſe, who by this black newes,
Becomes my Maſters heire, and ſo the white
That all the gallant ſuiters of the City
And Court will level their keen ſhafts at. Where
Are mine own hopes then, that ſtood as faire
In competition for her, love as any,
When the great noiſe of her inheritance,
Shall drown each Lovers tongue, that cannot ſay,
It is a Lords at leaſt, I rather wiſh
The young man had not di’d.
Enter Strigood.
Stri.Where’s my Boykin? my Friskoe? my De-
light? my
Caſh? by what better name can I call
Caſh.O me! Maſter
Strigood, what make you
Stri.I come to comfort my brother in his ſor-
H 2row.
The New Academy, Or
row. His ſonne is dead, they ſay. Ha! Is’t not
Caſh.And he is almoſt dead with ſorrow: Back
The ſight of you, that are his ſole vexation, will
Str.That is my way to cure him.
Madneſſe drowns grief in any man.–––
Probatum.
Caſh.Good Mr.
Strigood depart.
Str.Good Mr.
Caſh, and Mr.
Matchils man.
I’ll ſee your Maſter. What! deny his brother?
His nowne natural brother? By the ſurer ſide too
We tumbled in one Pannier; though we had
Two Rippiers, Sweet ſir, I am the elder too
Strigood was in my mother before
Matchill
Therefore, becauſe I have ſpent an eſtate
And he has got one, muſt not
I maintain
Caſh.Yes: if you had the wherewithal.
Str.Sir, you had been as good ha’ held your tongue.
Caſh.I have no money, ſir, but what’s my Ma-
Str.Whoſe money, ſir, was that you played laſt
Among the Knights and Braveries at the ordinary?
Gold by the handfuls,
Caſh! Lend me two pieces.
Str.Lend me three pieces,
Caſh.
Before I ſpeak too loud, whose money’s that
You uſe to weare abroad at Feaſts and Revels
In ſilver lace and ſatten; though you wait
At home in ſimple
Serge, or broad-cloth, ſir.
Caſh.Be not ſo loud, I pray.
I ſhall grow louder elſe. Who payes your Barber?
[H2v]I
The New Exchange.
I mean not for your Prentice pig-hair’d cut
Your weare at home here; but your Periwigs;
Your locks and Lady-ware that dangle in ’em,
Like ſtraws in the buſh natural of a Bedlem?
Caſh.What mean you Mr.
Strygood.
Stri.I mean ten pieces now; I’ll go no leſſe. Do
not I know your haunts?–––
Caſh.You may; you train’d one to ’em
Str.Do not I know your out-leaps, and vagaries?
Your tiring houſes, where you ſhift your ſelf,
Your privy lodgings, for your trunks and punks?
Your midnight walks and meetings? Come, the
And, heark thee, though thou undoeſt my brother
I’ll keep thy councel: thou ſhalt finde me vertuous.
I want, he gives me nothing, and thou canſt not
Do him better ſervice, then relieve his brother.
Caſh.I am in; and muſt, to hide my old faults, do
–––Aſide.
Like an ill Painter, dawbe ’em o’re with new.
Str.Quickly. I ſhall grow loud again elſe
Caſh.
Caſh.Sir, I am in your hands, here are ten pieces.
I hope you will not thank my Maſter for ’m.
Str.No, nor for all he has that comes through thy
My nimble
Caſh; and from his I am ſure,
Though I were ſtarving, I ſhould finger nothing.
Str.I’ll ſee him e’re I go.
And dine, if there be meat i’th’ houſe. What eaters
Are there within?
I’ll draw a knife among ’em.
Ex.
Caſh.This deſperate old Ruffian, would undo me,
But he hopes to waſte his brother by me.
He has ſpent himſelf to beggery; and would fall ſo,
But that he has pernicious fire in’s brain,
H 3That
The New Academy, Or
That raging ſpreads to ruine others with him.
Enter Lady Neſtlecock, Ephraim.
Then tis decreed, my Maſter muſt, from ſorrow,
And have a care you ſuffer not my boy
To Straggle forth ’mong his unhappy play-mates,
Eph.It ſhall be my care.
––– Ex.
La.What do you lock up my brother, ha? –––
Caſh.H’ has lock’t himſelf up, Madam; and will
N6ne to come at him, till his ſorrowful fit
La.Not’s own Siſter, ha? –––
Caſh.Nor his half brother neither: yet he’s here.
La.Is he here, ha? That
Strygood?
Is he
Hang him old reprobate. And beſhrew thy heart,
For a young varlet, to call him our brother.
It is no marvel, if my brother
Matchil
Lock up himſelf, and ſuch a wickedneſſe
Be in his houſe, as is that
Strygood, ha –––
Let him take heed, he comes not in my Nayl-reach,
And call me Siſter, or my Brother, brother,
Like a debauſh’d old Villain, as he is.
O that my huſband
Neſtlecock were alive,
But for three minutes, to ſend him to
Newgate, if he preſume to call me
Siſter.
But
I command you in my husbands name,
Who was a Juſtice, when he liv’d, to thruſt him
Out of your Maſters doors, my brothers houſe.
[H3v]Leſt
The New Exchange.
Leſt
I be ſick with the loath’d ſight of him.
You will not diſobey this, will you, ha? –––
If not, why ſtir you not? ha. –––
This fit of hers. There’s but one way to do it;
And thats to talk of her white boy, ſhe’s fond on.
La.Will you not ſend him packing, ha? –––
(By your good Ladiſhips leave) how does your ſonne
Sweet Maſter
Nehemiah Neſtlecock?
La.I thank you courteous friend.
Intruth, laſt night,
One of my Coach-gueldings fell lame, and
I,
By that conſtrain’d to come afoot,
Was forc'd to leave my boy at home; or elſe
He had come with me, to have been a comfort
To his ſad Uncle: But
I would not now
For twice my Gueldings price, my childe were here;
And that foule fiend i’th’ houſe, whoſe very looks
Would fright him into ſickneſſe.
La.I can’t ſo ſoon forget the fright he took
At ſeeing the roguiſh Jugler once eat tow,
And blow it out of’s mouth in fire and ſmoke,
He lay a fourtnight by’t.
Caſh.That’s two yeares ſince.
And he was then but young, he’s now a man.
La.Alack a childe; but going in’s nineteenth year.
Caſh.Within there Madam; ſo is
Gabriella
The French young Gentlewoman to attend you.
La.I’ll ſtay with them till
I may ſee my brother.
––– Ex.
Caſh.I hope old
Strygood, who now on the ſudden
Hath ſlipt her memory, meets her by the eares firſt.
H 4Enter
The New Academy, Or
Enter Matchil, an opeu letter in his hands.
But the good minute’s come, before I look’t for’t.
My Maſter now appears. He looks moſt ſourely,
Expreſſing more of anger then of grief.
I feare, old
Strygood was ſo loud with me,
That he hath over-heard us, and
I ſhall break
And puleing grief away, whileſt I take in
A nobler and more manly Paſſion;
Anger, that may inſtruct me to revenge.
My childe is loſt by treacherous neglect
In that falſe Frenchman, to whoſe ſeeming care
I truſted the chief comfort of my life;
Matchil
My boy. Nay, read again. ’Tis written, here,
reades.
Caſh.His man, I think, he ſaid.
Caſh liſtens to Match-
il, and ſpeaks aſide.
Does your man trouble you. I do not like that
Mat.And here he writes that in his youthful ſpring
And heat of ſpirit, he began to grow
Intemperate and wilde –––
Caſh.Wilde! Are you there?
Mat.Which drew him on to riotous expence –––
Caſh.And there again, to riotous expence!
’Tis I directly that he’s troubled with.
Mat.And ſometimes into quarrels. What o’ that?
In all this he was ſtill mine own. Oboy –––
Mat. kiſſes
the paper.
Caſh.Some ſlave has writ ſome fearful information
Againſt me, and he hugs and kiſſes it
Mat.And had his Guardian had a feeling care
(Hang his French friendſhip) over my dear childe,
[H4v]As
The New Exchange.
As I had over his, theſe youthful follies
Might have be temper’d into manly vertues.
From my revenge to grief. Away; I will not.
He reads
again.
Here’s the death-doing point. Theſe ſlight diſorders.
In my young forward ſonne (I finde it here)
Were, by his churliſh and perfidious Guardian,
Interpreted no leſſe then Reprobation,
And, by his ignorant cruelty, ſo puniſh’d.
For, here he ſhuts his eare and door againſt him:
When ſuddenly the looſe licentious world
Soothes on his youthful, injudicious courage
To imminent deſtruction; ſo being engag’d
In a raſh quarrel, he in duel fell.
Th’ Opponents ſword was inſtrument; yet I inferre.
Lafoy, his Guardian was his murderer.
Farewel, my boy; and this is the laſt teare
Thou ſhalt wring from me. Something
I’ll do,
Shall ſhew a fathers love, and valour too.
I’m young enough to draw a ſword in
France, yet.
But firſt––– Come hither,
Sirrah.
Mrt.I purpoſe ſtreight to order my eſtate
Look that you forthwith perfect my Accompts;
And bring me all my books of debtor and creditor,
Receipts and payments, what you have in wares,
And what in caſh, let me inform my ſelf.
Mat.I’ll ſet all right and ſtreight,
All ſtatutes, bonds, bills, and ſeal’d inſtruments
That do concern me, I have in my Cloſet
Or at my Councels, or my Scriveners.
I’ll call in them my ſelfe. Why doeſt thou look ſo
[H5r]Would’ſt
The New Academy, Or
Would’ſt have me yield a reaſon? why, I’ll tell thee
I mean to make a voyage; and, perhaps,
To ſettle and proportion out my eſtate
By Will, before I go. Do you as I command you.
Caſh.Whatever he pretends, I know his drift:
And, e’te I’ll be diſcover’d by my ſtay;
Being run out, I’ll chooſe to run away.
–––Ex.
Mat.My daughter in the firſt place muſt be car’d
I’ll make her a good match. My next in blood then,
My Knave-half-brother, and my whole fool-Siſter.
But the beſt is, her Ladiſhip has enough;
And all I have, in
Strygoods hands, were nothing.
Therefore I’ll purpoſe nothing to him. Oh.
Enter Joyce and Gabriella.
The Joy and Torment of my life, at once
Appear to me. I muſt divide them, thus.
He thruſts off
Gabriella.
Hence hated iſſue of my mortal foe
VVhom I have foſter’d with a Parents Piety
As carefully and dearly as mine own.
VVhile the inhumane cruelty of thy Sire
Has to untimely death expos’d my ſonne.
Thank me I kill not thee; ſo leave my houſe.
There’s
French enough in town, that may befriend
To pack you o’re to
Paris; what’s your own
Take w’ye, and go. VVhy cleave you to her ſo?
To
Joyce.
Forſake her, caſt her off. Are not my words
Of force, but I muſt uſe my hands to part ye?
Jo.Deare, honour’d father, I beſeech you hear
In parting us you ſeparate life from me,
[H5v]And
The New Exchange.
And therein act a real crueltie
On me your only childe, ſharper then that,
Which you can but pretend done by her father.
Joy.I cannot live from her.
Mat.O monſtrous. Pray, your reaſon. Why not
Joy.You know, Sir, from our
Infancie we have
Bred up together, by your tender care
As we had been twin-borne, and equally
Your own; and by a ſelf-ſame education,
We have grown hitherto, in one affection,
We are hoth but one body, and one mind,
What
Gabriella was,
I was, what
I, was ſhe.
And, til! this hapleſſe houre, you have enjoyn’d me,
Nay, charg’d me on your bleſſing, not to arrogate
More of your love unto my ſelf, then her,
Mat.That was, ’cauſe
I preſum’d her father lov’d,
Or ſhould have lov’d my ſonne, your brother.
Joy.I never knew brother, or ſiſter,
I;
Nor my poor ſelf, but in my
Gabrella.
Then blame me not to love her,
I beſeech you
Mat.Th’ art knee-deep in rebellion.
Unnatural Gipſie, ſince thou prov’ſt my torment
In being the ſame with her; and haſt declar’d
Thy ſelf no more my childe, then ſhe, whom now
I do abhorre, avoid, with her, my ſight.
Riſe, and be gone, leſt thou pull curſes on thee
Shall ſink thee into earth.
Let me, ’gainſt whom your fury firſt was bent
Suffer alone the ſharpneſſe of your vengeance:
And let it not be ſaid, ’caufe you ſurmiſe,
My father loſt your ſon, that, therefore, you
[H6r]Have
The New Academy, Or
Have caſt away your daughter. Hurl me, rather,
Into the ruthleſs waves to ſeek my way;
Or do but take her, hold her in the armes
Of your paternal love, and
I’ll take flight
Joy.She cannot, may not leave me.
Mat.Out of my doors then, with her.–––
Enter Lady Neſtlecock.
La.What’s the matter? ha–––
Mat.Such as you cannot mend, deare Lady
What come you hither with your Ha–––for? Ha–––
La.To comfort you, dear brother, if you’ll heare
Your ſonne is dead, they ſay; and here I finde
Your daughter is rebellious ’gainſt your will.
Mat.You ſpeak much comfort, do you not, think
La.But is it ſo
Joyce? ha! ––– I thought you,
Would have rejoyc’d your father in obedience,
And not afflict him with your ſtubbornneſſe.
Mat.O this impertinent woman
!
Let me adviſe you, rather then ſuffer her
To be an eye-ſore to you, put her out,
Where ſhe may learne more duty. If you pleaſe
I’ll take her home, and ſhew her how it ſhould be.
Mat.Yes, as you have ſhewen your
Neſtlecock, your
La.I, there’s a childe! Brother, you’l pardon
If I aſpire in hope, that he ſhallbe
[H6v]Your
The New Exchange.
Your heire, if
Joyce miſcarry in rebellion.
Mat.And therefore you would breed her. How
Works in a covetous woman
! Though a foole
Your ſonne’s an Aſſe; an Ideot; and your ſelf
No better, that have bred him ſo. Do you tell
Of your ſweet ſugar-chop’t Neſtle cockſcombe?
Mat.He’s fit t’inherit nothing but a place
I’th’ Spittle-houſe, Fools Colledge, yond, at
Knights-
La.And did
I come to bring thee conſolation?
Now let me tell thee, I rejoyce in thy
Juſt puniſhment, thy ſcourge of croſſes. Thou,
That for theſe ſix years ſpace, until this day,
Haſt kept continual feaſt and jollitie
For thy wives death, who was too good for thee.
Mat.Right, for ſhe was my Maſter, a perpetual
Vexation to me, while ſhe was above-ground
Your Ladiſhip could not have ſpoke more comfort
Then the remembrance of that ſhook-off
Shackle,
Which now, in my affliction makes me ſmile,
And were I on her grave,
I could cut capers.
La.A further puniſhment I prophecie
Grows in the neck of thy leud inſolence
Mat.I could e’ne finde in heart to marry again,
In ſpight, now, of thy witchcraft; my ſon dead
!
My daughter diſobedient
! and your childe
A very chilblaine. What have I to do
But marry again
: all women are not devils,
I may yet get an heire unto my minde.
[H7r]Enter
The New Academy, Or
Enter Strigood.
Stri.Stay, you forget your brother, Mr.
Matchil.
You have match’d ill once already; and take
You match not worſe, your children, though un-
And taking of the devilliſh Shrew, their mother,
Were likely of your own begetting; Yet
Your ſecond wife may bring you a ſupply
Of heires, but who muſt get them, firſt is doubtful.
Mat.Thy impudence amazes me.
La.I’m ſick at ſight of the leud Reprobate.
Stri.Dee caſt about for heirs; and have beſides
Your daughter here, a brother and a ſiſter?
La.Call not thy ſelf our brother. He appears
Unkinde to me, but thou inſufferable,
I loath to look upon thee.
Againſt her Aunt, her Moon-calf ſonne.
I’ll make
her love me beſt, and preſently.
Mat.I cannot look upon thee.
Provoke me not to ſpeech,
I charge thee.
Str.Give me leave to ſpeak; Hold you your
Hear but my brotherly advice; and when
Give your conſent in ſilence.
La.I am not angry with you now; and therefore
I charge you, hear him not.
[H7v]Stri.
The New Exchange.
Stri.My advice is thus, that for your daughters
For mine own good, and for your Siſters good.
And for her ſonne, your Nephew’s good.
Stri.And chiefly for your own good, and the credit
A wiſe man would deſire to hold i’th’ world,
Think not of marrying, nor of buying hornes
At the whole value of your whole eſtate,
But match your daughter while you have the meanes
In your own hands; give her a good round portion,
Here are deſerving
Gentlemen i’th’ houſe.
Next, think of me your brother, that has ſpent
In down-right fellowſhip (heaven knows what
All fraudulent purpoſes to make any man
A miſer or a gainer by’t) a faire eſtate.
And now do want a brotherly ſupply.
A hundred a year or ſo: but above all
Faſten your land unto yout Siſters ſonne.
That hopeful Gentleman, ſweet
Nehemiah.
La.Now brother you may hear him.
Stri.What though it ſtraggle from the name of
Remember yet he is your mothers Grandchilde.
La.Why dee not hear him, brother?–––
To be a landed man my ſelf,
Had I a thouſand yearly, I would leav’t him.
La.Trulie, I thank you Now I’ll call you brother.
Y’are a good natur’d Gentleman if you had it.
Come home, and ſee my ſonne. ––– VVill you not
Mat.I need not, nor your ſelfe. I ſee you gape
Like monſters that would ſwallow me alive.
I know your mindes; and I will do mine own.
And, thus it is. Stay, let me ſtay a little.
[H8r]La.
The New Academy, Or
LaLook you how wilde he looks.
La.I would he had a wife then,
For nothing elſe can tame him.
Firſt, I’ll be Maſter of mine own eſtate.
Stri.Take a wife to maſter that, and you.
Mat.Next, you
Madamoiſelle, (on whom with pa-
I cannot look) forſake my houſe, and ſuddenly;
Linger not for a man to wait upon you,
But let your black bag guard you, ’tis a faſhion
Begun amongſt us here by your own Nation.
And if I longer muſt call you my daughter,
Joy.VVhat mine own heart? dear Sir.
Mat.At your own choice,
I can force her depar-
Though not perſwade your ſtay, determine quickly
Either to leave her, and enjoy a father,
Or never more expect a fathers bleſſing.
Gab.Dear, mine own heart, leave me, obey your
Joy.It muſt be to my death then.
[ Weepes.
Therefore be you as brief in your reſolve.
La.Alas, poor hearts. Juſt ſo loth
To part was
I and my ſonne
Nehemiah
To day when
I came forth.
Mat.Pray, Sir, none of your advices.
Let her adviſe her ſelf ; whileſt
I impart
To you my next intention ; which is thus.
[H8v]To
The New Exchange.
To end your ſtrife for ſhares in mine eſtate
I’ll venter on a wife: indeed
I’ll marry
You’l eſtate nothing on me for my life
Give mee a fee to help you to a wife,
Mat.I’ll none, Sir, of your good ones.
Beſides, Sir,
I’m provided.
La.You are not, are you ? ha.
Mat.Let it ſuffice,
I ſay’t, ſo quit my houſe.
Stri.Shall
I expect then nothing?
’Tis all
I can afford you. You have wit,
Yes, you can daunce, tread money out of ruſhes,
Slight and activity to live upon.
A nimble braine, quick hands and airie heels
Mat.Pray fall to practice.
Stri.I may ſir, to your coſt, if you put off
Your daughter with her Sweet-heart, her
Mon Coeur
There, as ſhe calls her. Dear, my Lady Siſter ;
You ſee how churliſhly this Merchant uſes us.
He has forgot, ſure, he was borne a Gentleman.
Will you be pleas’d,
I ſpeak to you in your eare.
La.Any way, brother
Strigood, Hang him,
Nabal,
To warn me out o’s houſe; and not alone,
To turne a ſtranger from within his gates,
But offer to caſt out his childe too, ha !
Stri.’Tis about that
I’d ſpeak, pray Madam heark you.
Enter Eraſmus, Valentine.
Er.Noble Mr.
Matchil, though we ate your meat
IBefore
The New Academy, Or
Before we ſaw you, you will give us leave
To take our leaves, and thank you ere we part.
Val.W’ have heard your cauſe of ſorrow.
Mat.But I have over-paſt it. Heark ye Gentlemen
Eraſ.You’l give us leave firſt to ſalute the Ladies.
Mat.Nay, if you love me, heare me firſt.
Er. Val.Your will, Sir.
Talk a-
ſide.
La.Neece, you ſhall no way diſobey your father
La.You and your ſecond ſelfe ſhall home with me
Until his furious humour be blown over.
To which the firſt meanes is to ſhun his ſight,
And then let me alone to make your peace.
Joy. Gab.We thank your Ladiſhip.
Home to my houſe together.
La.Hiſt brother, lead the way.
Str.As glad as ever Fox was of his prey.
Exit om.
Mat.’Tis even ſo, Gentlemen, ſorrow
Pet. Mat.
findes no lodging.
Er. Val.
In my light heart ſometimes ſhe knocks at door,
And takes a drink, but here ſhe muſt not ſit by’t.
Er.Yet I have heard you ſay
You never taſted joy for divers yeares
Till your wife died: ſince when, a King of mirth,
And now to marry agen is ſuch a thing.
Mat.Yes ſir, !tis ſuch a thing that I will marry
That I foreknow can never diſobey me
And I’ll defie the devil to diſhoneſt her.
Val.No, he means ſo vertuous.
Mat.Well-ſaid, ſir, you ſhall drink before me.
Ra-
[I1v]’Pro-
The New Exchange.
’Proteſt you ſhall though’t be in my own houſe.
Er.Now he reſumes his humour.
Preſume before the dangerous marriage-trial
That ſhe whom y’have choſen will be obedient.
Val.D’ye think he has not tried her? There’s a
Mat.Well-ſaid agen. I was about to ſay ſo.
Rachel, ſome ſack, I ſay. Yes, I have tried her, ſir,
Tri’d her, and tri’d her again; all over and over
Theſe five yeares day and night; and ſtill obedient.
Er.Then you are ſure to her.
A marriage-queſtion, nor a woing word.
But do all by command, ſhe is ſo obedient.
Val.And yet ſhe’s chaſte and vertuous withal.
Mat.Well-ſaid again, ſir, ſo I was a ſaying.
Er.But we have talk’t away the Gentlewomen.
Mat.No matter, let ’hem go. Would they wete
Enter Rachel, ſilver Kan and Napkin.
Come, the ſack, the ſack. ––– Who taught you that
Pray try a better to the Gentleman.
Val.In your own houſe, ſir?
Mat.I ’ll rather g’ ye my houſe, then break my
Val.Y’ are Lord here, and may command me, ſir.
And ſo my ſervice to you.
Mat.I’ll do you reaſon, ſir.
––– Val. drink.
Be ready with your Napkin, and a lower douke maid.
I 2I’ll
The New Academy, Or
I’ll hang dead weight at your buttocks elſe. So.
Is not this obedience, Gentlemen, Mr.
Eraſmus?
Mus, I will call thee
Mus, I love to be
Familiar, where I love; and Godamercy
For your friend here; you both ſhall ſee my daugh-
But my French Damoſel and I are parted
I hope by this time. So here’s to you
Mus.
Er.To me, to me, to me.
M. drinks.
Mat.Ha boy, art there? diſpatch
Er.
Your court’ſie quickly, and go cal my daughter.
drinks.
Rach.She is gone forth, forſooth.
Mat.Forth, ha? when? whither?
La ye, ſhe thinks I’m angry, and the finger
Is in the eye already. Is not this
Feare and obedience, Gentlemen? who went with
Rach.She went with my Lady
Neſtlecock, to bring
Gabriella on her way they ſaid.
They were all in
France together.
Mat.She comes again, I doubt not. Dry your
And drink that ſack, without a court’ſie, drink it.
You do not know my meaning, Gentlemen.
Stay: now gi’ me’t agen. ––– Now go and dry
Your face within ––– without a court’ſie? ha!
––– Ex. Rach.
Now is not this obedience, Gentlemen?
Val.But this is not the rare obedient peece
Mat.You do not hear me ſay ſo.
But I preſume, as much obedience
In her I have made choice of.
[I2v]And
The New Exchange.
And we will be her Hench-boyes, if you pleaſe.
Mat.No, I’ll have no ſuch blades ’bout my wives
But come, to end this tedious Scene, in which
I ha’ paſt the Purgatorie of my Paſſions
Of ſorrow, anger, feare, and hope at laſt.
I am refin’d, ſublim’d, exalted, fixt
In my true Sphere of mirth; where love’s my object.
And bloodie thought of black revenge caſt by.
Val.Could your faire breaſt harbour a bloody
Mat.For ſome few minutes, in which extaſie
I meant t’ ha’ gone, as other Gallants do.
To fight in
France, forſooth, and charg’d my man
To draw up his Accompts, call in my moneys,
Thought to have made my Will–––.
Go forth e’ne now with a ſtrong luſty Porter
Loaden with money: I will not ſay my teeth
Val.But ’twas enough to make
A very true mans fingers itch.
Think he is run away; but yet I like not
His carrying forth, when
I ſay, fetch in money.
But this is from my purpoſe. Love ye mirth?
Let’s in, and drink, and talk. That gives it birth.
