THE
NORTHERN
LASSE
A
COMOEDIE.
As it hath beene often Acted with good
Applauſe, at the Globe, and Black-Fryers. By his
Maieſties Servants.
Written by RICHARD BROME.
Hic totus volo rideat Libellus. Mart.
LONDON:
Printed by AVG. MATHEVVES, and are to
be ſold by NICHOLAS VAVASOVR, dwelling
at the little South dore of St. Paul’s Church.
1632.
[A1]
The Perſons in the Comedie.
| Sir Phillip Luckleſſe, Contracted to Miſtreſſe Fitchow the |
| Citie Widdow. |
| Maſter Tridewell, Kinſman to Sir Phillip. |
Sir Paul Squelch,
Maſter Bulfinch, | } | Iuſtices; Miſtreſſe Fitchows friends. |
|
| Maſter Widgine, a Cockney-Gentleman, Brother to Mi- |
| ſtreſſe Fitchow. |
| Anvile, a Braggart, Governour to Widgine. |
| Maſter Non-ſence a Corniſh Gentleman, Suiter to Con- |
| ſtance. |
| Pate, a witty Seruingman to Sir Phillip. |
| Beauis, a blunt Seruingman to Miſtreſſe Traynwell. |
| Howdye, Miſtreſs Fitchows man and Gentleman Vſher. |
| Vexhem, a Conſtable. |
| Cleark to Sir Paul. |
| Masquers. |
| Miſtreſſe Fitchow, the Citie Widdow. |
| Conſtance the Northern Laſſe. |
| Miſtreſſe Traynwell her Governeſſe. |
| Con. Holdup, a cunning Whore. |
| Chambermayd to Miſtreſſe Fitchow. |
[A1v]
TO THE RIGHT WOR
THY AND NO LESSE IVDI-
cious than ingenious Gentleman
RICHARD HOLFORD, Eſquire.
SIR:
RIch Friends may ſend you rich Pre-
ſents, while poore ones haue no-
thing but good wiſhes to preſent
you. Though I bee one of the laſt
ranke, and therefore cannot doe like the firſt,
yet it is my ambition to bring more then bare
wiſhes with me, to one of whom I have recei-
ued reall favours. A Countrey Laſſe I preſent
you, that Minerua- like was a brayn-borne child,
and Iouially begot, though now ſhee ſeekes her
fortune. Shee came out of the cold North, thin-
ly clad: but Wit had pitty on her; Action ap-
parrell’d her, and Plaudits clap’d her cheekes
warme. Shee is honeſt, and modeſt, though
ſhe ſpeake broad: And though Art neuer ſtrung
her tongue; yet once it yeelded a delightfull
A 2ſound
The Epiſtle Dedicatorie.
ſound, which gain’d her many Lovers and
Friends, by whoſe good liking ſhe proſperouſly
liued, vntill her late long Silence, and Diſconti-
nuance (to which ſhee was compell’d) gaue
her iuſtly to fear their loſſe, and her owne de-
cay. Wherefore ſhee, now, deſirous to ſettle her
ſelfe in ſome worthy ſeruice; And no way wil-
ling (like ſome of further breed) to returne from
this Southern ſunſhine, back to her natiue Ayre;
I thought it might become my care (having firſt
brought and eſtrang’d her from her Countrey)
to ſue, with her, for Your noble Patronage; of
Whom, ſhee heares, (if Flattery abuſe her not)
ſhee hath, heretofore, gotten ſome good opini-
on. Your loue to witty, and pleaſant Recreati-
ons of this nature, hath brought her on: And
Northern Spirits will ſoone wex bold. If you
be pleaſed to accept of her, ſhee will travaile no
further, but, together with my ſelfe, remaine
Euer at your ſeruice,
RIC. BROME.
[A2v]To
To my old Faithfull Seruant: and (by
his continu’d Vertue) my louing Friend:
the Author of this Work, M. RICH. BROME.
I Had you for a Seruant, once, Dick Brome;
And you perform’d a Seruants faithfull parts,
Now, you are got into a nearer roome,
Of Fellowſhip, profeſſing my old Arts.
And you doe doe them well, with good applauſe,
Which you have iuſtly gained from the Stage,
By obſeruation of thoſe Comick Lawes
Which I, your Maſter, firſt did teach the Age.
You learn’d it well, and for it ſeru’d your time
A Prentiſe-ſhip: which few doe now a dayes.
Now each Court-Hobby-horſe will wince in rime;
Both learned, and unlearned, all write Playes.
It was not ſo of old: Men tooke up trades
That knew the Crafts they had bin bred in, right:
An honeſt Bilbo-Smith would make good blades,
And the Phyſician teach men ſpue, or ſhite;
The Cobler kept him to his nall; but, now
Hee’ll be a Pilot, ſcarce can guide a Plough.
BEN. IONSON.
To his approued Friend M. RICHARD BROME
on his Northern Laſſe.
WHat! wilt thou proſtitute thy Miſtreſſe , (Friend)
And make ſo rich a Beauty common? What end
Do’ſt thou propoſe? Shee was thine owne, but now
All will enioy her free: ’tis ſtrange that thou
Canſt brooke ſo many Riualls in thy Laſſe,
Whoſe Wit and Beauty does her ſex ſurpaſſe.
I’ue learnt it; Thou haſt try’d her, found her chaſt,
And fear’ſt not that Shee’ll lewdly be embrac’t:
And now thou ſend’ſt her to be ſeene, and ſee
If any be like faire, like good as Shee.
F. T. Mag. Art. Oxon.
A 3To
To his ingenious Brother, M RICH. BROME,
vpon this witty iſſue of his Brayne,
the Northern Laſſe.
ALthough I call you by a Brothers name
I muſt confeſſe (nor do I feare the ſhame)
I am in loue with your fair Daughter, this,
As faire condition’d as her Father is.
Well met abroad, blithe, bonny Northern Laſſe:
Thy naturall Beauties, others farre ſurpaſſe
That are enrich’d with Fucuſſes of Art,
Thy witty ſweetneſſe beares ſo faire a part.
Not a Good woman, nor a Girle worth Gold,
Nor twenty ſuch (whoſe gaudy ſhewes take hold
Of gazing eyes) ſhall in acceptance thriue
With thee, whoſe quaintneſſe is ſuperlatiue.
Dick may be proud ſhee’s Daughter to no other;
As I am proud that I haue ſuch a Brother.
St. Br.
Of Mr. RICHARD BROME his ingenious
Comedy, the Northern Laſſe,
To the Reader.
POets and Paynters curiouſly compar’d,
Give life to Fancie and atchieue Reward
By Immortality of Name: So thriues
Art’s Glory, that All, what it breathes on, liues.
Witneſſe this Northern Piece. The Court affords
No newer faſhion, or for Wit, or Words.
The Body of the Plot is drawne ſo faire,
That the Soules language quickens, with freſh ayre.
This well limb’d Poem, by no Rate, or Thought
Too dearely priz’d, being or ſold, or bought.
IOHN FORD
The Authors very Friend.
[A3v]To
To my Sonne BROME and
his Laſſe.
WHich, then of Both ſhall I commend?
Or Thee (that art my Sonne and Friend)
Or Her, by Thee begot? A Girle
Twice worth the Cleopatrian Pearl.
No: ’tis not fit for Me to Grace
Thee, who art Mine; and to thy Face.
Yet I could ſay, the merrieſt Mayd
Among the Nine, for Thee has layd
A Ghyrlond by; and Iieres to ſee
Pied Ideots teare the Daphnean Tree;
Putting their Eyes out with thoſe Boughes
With which Shee bids me deck thy Browes.
But what I bring ſhall crowne thy Daughter
(My Grand child) who (though full of laughter)
Is Chaſt and Witty to the Time;
Not Lumpiſh-Cold, as is her Clime.
By Phœbus Lyre, Thy Northern Laſſe
Our Southern proudeſt Beauties paſſe:
Be Iouiall with thy Braynes (her Mother)
And help her (Dick) to ſuch Another.
THO. DEKKER.
To his knowne Friend Mr. R BROME,
on his Northern Laſſe.
MY Loue may wrong thee, Friend; and, ſhould I praiſe
Thy Booke, I feare ’twould ſtayne the wreathing Bayes
That crownes thy Head; No, they that know, can tell
This Piece craues not a bribing Prayer to ſell.
Here’s Beauty, Wit, and Language in a Glaſſe.
Who would not haue a Copy of this Laſſe?
F. T.
[A4]Prologue.
Prologue.
GAllants, and Friends-ſpectators, will yee ſee
A ſtrayne of Wit that is not Poetrie?
I have Authority for what I ſay:
For He himſelfe ſayes ſo, that Writ the Play,
Though, in the Muſes Garden he can walke;
And choyceſt Flowers pluck from euery ſtalke
To deck the Stage; and purpoſeth, hereafter,
To take your Iudgements: now He implores your laughter;
Sayes He would ſee you merry; thinks it long
Since you were laſt delighted with a Song.
Your Bookes, he ſayes, can ſhew you Hiſtory;
And ſerious Paſſages better then Hee;
And that He ſhould take paines in Act to ſhow
What you already by your Studies know
Were a preſumption. Tis a Modeſtie
Vn-us’d ’mongſt Poets. This being onely Hee
That boaſteth not his worth; and doth ſubſcribe
Himſelfe an under-ſeruant in their Tribe.
Yet though he ſlight himſelfe, We not deſpaire,
By him, to ſhew you what is Good and Rare.
[A4v]
THE NORTHERN
LASSE.
Act. I. Sce. I.
Enter Sir Philip Luckles. Tridewell.
Tri.BVT I beſeech you ſir, Take me ſomewhat
nearer your Councell. May I aſſure my
ſelfe, that this report goes true; that you
are on this treaty of Marriage with that
Luc.Faith coſen, I take it as my fortune; and am fully
Tri.Troth, in my mind, you were better venture your
ſelfe, and fortune to the
Bermudas. Tis true, ſhee has a
good eſtate; ſome nine thouſand, I thinke: and were an apt
match for one that knew how to governe it, and her; ſome
hard bred Cittizen, crafty Lawyer, or countrey Iuſtice. But
you, a tender Nurſeling of the Court, altogether vnmixt
with ſuch nature or education, to caſt your ſelfe vpon her,
who for her yeares might be your Mother (they ſay: I ne-
ver ſaw her) and has beene the Towne widow theſe three
yeares, ſtill converſant with Doctors, and Proctors of the
civill Law; of which Tribe her huſband was too. Never
looke to bee the better for her Riches: Shee’ll conſume
yours and you too, though your backe were
Herculean; and
lay you in your graue, or in
Bedlem (my life on’t) before ſhe
dreame o’ dying, though it be all that you can hope, or pray
BLuc.
The Northern Laſſe.
Luc.You ſpeake ſir out of ſome vnfortunate examples,
and your extraordinary care of me. But truth is, all deſwa-
ſion comes too late; and all vrgings againſt it are now vn-
charitable: For wee are already Man and Wife.
Luc.Luſtily promis’d ſir. Abſolutely contracted.
Tri.Send you ioy. Ile out of Towne.
Luc.I hope you’ll ſee our Mariage. I ſent indeed to bid
Tri.No, good ſir
Phillip, rather then I would be in ſound
of a Bell that ſhould ring at it, I would haue my braines fil-
lipt out with the Clapper.
Luc.Nay good coſen: I intended you my principall
Gueſt. Wee’ll haue all very priuate, not aboue foure or fiue
Tri.Sir, I intend to be none of your Mourners, which
indeed my preſence there would make mee; and ſo, perhaps,
infect the reſt. I leaue my beſt wiſhes to you, and will in-
deauour to pray for you. Indeed I will.
Luc.Indeed this is very abrupt.
Act. I. Sce. II.
Enter Anvile. Widgine.
An.Mr.
Tridewell! well met. Why ſo faſt ſir, I tooke
Tri.A Foot-poſt! Indeed your fine wit will poſt you into
another world one of theſe dayes, if it take not the whip-
ping poſt i’the way. And why Foot-poſt, in your little wit-
An.Becauſe you went ſo faſt. But ſince you are angry,
I would you were going twice as faſt. If I interrupt you,
Tri.Nay, I know you are apt to decline any mans anger,
good Captaine
Anvile : you have beene beaten to’t.
Wid.Why, if he haue, hee may thanke ſuch as you are,
Tri.What are you there too? Mr.
Widgine, I take it?
[B1v]Wid.
The Northern Laſſe.
Wid.My name is
Walter Widgine ſir, not to be denyed; the
only brother here of ſir
Phillip Luckleſſe his betroth’d. She
is a
Widgine borne ſir, and of the beſt family: Our Anceſtors
flew out of
Holland in
Lincolnſhire to preuent perſecution.
Tri.From
Crowland I warrant you, a little before a
Wid.Like enough ſir. My ſiſter can tell you. Since, by mar-
riage, ſhe was made a
Fitchow: Her huſband was
Fitchow
the civill Lawyer; Hee was called the great Cannonier of
the civill Law: becauſe he could diſchardge, or make report
of euery Canon therein; Canon after Canon, or Canon vp-
on Canon at his fingers ends, as readily as I can tell theſe
Tri.A faire Demonſtration!
Wid.He had many rare parts in him, beſides ſir, as my
Tri.This fellow cannot chuſe but have a rare ſiſter: Hee
Wid.But all the good I can ſpeake of him, is, that he left
my ſiſter rich; or at leaſt a reaſonable eſtate, halfe a ſcore
thouſand pounds, or ſo: which ſhee, with her ſelfe, beſtowes
vpon this honourable knight, ſir
Phillip Luckles, to bee a La-
dy of that name, and God gi’ him ioy. And for you: being
his kinſman, I ſhall deſire your neerer acquaintance.
Wid.The match was not altogether her owne ſeeking
ſir, though ſhe refuſed two Aldermen for him, on my owne
Tri.Might ſhee haue had’hem both ſir?
Wid.I and half a ſcore Aldermen fellowes to boote: yet
Tri.Indeed ſixe yoake of ſuch cattell would plow vp all
his acres in a forenoone.
Wid.My ſiſter can tell you more ſir.
Tri.Still ſhes is his Authority. I will ſee this woman,
Sir
Phillip, here are Gueſts will applaud your match. Bid ’hem
Wid.For my part I honour any Man, that marries my
B 2ſiſter.
The Northern Laſſe.
ſiſter. Sir
Phillip, and my noble brother in expectation, I
pray embrace my Governour, Captaine
Anvile, here; and
giue him and me our gloues: you ſhall find him worthy your
acquaintance. Hee has wit, I can tell you; and breakes as
many good ieſts as all the VVits, Fits, and Fancies about the
Towne, and has traind vp many young gentlemen, both
here, and in diuers parts beyond the Seas. Hee was dry nurſe
(that’s one of his owne ieſts vpon himſelfe) to the Engliſh
youth, a dozen yeares together beyond Sea: And now he is
my Governour, and I find profit in it: you cannot thinke
what an aſſe I was before I met with him: And I meane to
trauell with him, two or three yeares hence, my ſelfe. In
the meane time, he ſhall ſpend a hundred a yeare out of
Wat
Widgines purſe. Sha’t ifaith Governor, what aileſt thou?
An.I ſhall find a time to right my ſelfe, I doubt
Luc.But will you trauell at theſe yeares Mr.
Widgine?
Wid.Will you not call me brother? Two dayes hence
when you haue married my ſiſter, you muſt. Muſt hee not,
Luc.Well then, Brother two dayes hence, will you
Wid.I ſome two yeares hence, miſtake me not. I know
I am but young yet; beſides I meane to marry firſt as other
young heires do. And then towry lowry, faith, my noble
Governour, and I! Twill be braue going into
France then: I
may learne halfe their faſhions before I goe, and bate ſo
much, being taught at when I come there. VVhat’s the mat-
ter Governour? thou wert not wont to bee thus. Is thy
money all gone? Heres fiue peeces to buy pomps againſt
Anv.Haue I eyes and eares, and can thinke of trifling
Wid.Pox on’t, I had forgot. That ſciruy ſurly gentleman
angerd him ere while, and put him out of patience. How the
hot fome of his rage boyles out of his Mouth! If I durſt
[B2v]goe
The Northern Laſſe.
goe ſo neere the heate of him, I would ſkim the pot.
Anv.If I try not this
Tridewell; put him to the deareſt
Wid.I there tis, he will never come to himſelfe till he beat,
Anv.Let me haue theſe knockd out; theſe puld off; theſe
pluckd out, and theſe ſawd off.
Wid.I muſt venter on him. Nay, Governour: pray thee
Anv.The time and place you meane. Thinke you hee
durſt haue done it, but in his kinſmans houſe; hee and the
multitude of his ſeruants preſent.
Wid.I, and wee know not how many arm’d men in the
next roome. Hearke Governour.
Luc.What things are theſe! I ſhall marry into a fine
ſtocke! How vntimely ſome conſiderations fall into my
mind! My Coſens councell, which hath ever beene oracu-
louſly good, agaiuſt which I violently beare my ſelfe, to
mixe my blood amongſt a race of fooles. Had but theſe
thoughts beene mine but one day paſt, they had preuented
all that may proue dangerous in this, ſo great and doubtfull
Act. I. Sce. III.
Enter Pate, to Luckles, Widgine, Anvile.
Pa.Sir, there’s a gentlewoman would ſpeake with you.
Luc.Who is it? Doe you not know her?
Pa.I never ſaw her before ſir. I aſkt her name. But I per-
ceiu’d ſome diſpleaſure in her looke (whether it were ſhame,
griefe, or anger I know not) that made her conceale it: On-
ly telling me ſhee was a woman very hurtleſſe, and warran-
table againſt your feare.
Wid.I warrant ’tis my ſiſter. Shee frownd, did ſhee not,
and look’d fightingly? If ſhee did, ’tis my ſiſter, your wife
that ſhall be. Shee will looke ſo at you, I can tell you, or me,
or my Governour, for all he is a Captaine. Shee feares no
colours I faith, to tell you true, ſhee beate him once for a
A 3ieſt,
The Northern Laſſe.
ieſt he broke upon her
Monkey. Is it not ſhee, thinkſt thou?
Pa.No ſir it is not ſhee. I know my Lady that ſhall be.
Wid.My Lady that ſhall bee! how ſweetly it chimes.
Heres ſomething for that word.
Luc.Goe bring her vp. Good brother
Widgine, fly in-
to the next roome, with your Governour. Ile waite on you
Wid.My Lady! and brother
Widgine! I muſt admire.
Our houſe is rays’d by this two ſtories higher. —
Ex. Wid. Anv.
Luc.There’s no recalling time; and vowes of this high
Act. I. Sce. IIII.
Enter Miſtres Trainewell.
Tra.Sir, I ſuppoſe you are ſir
Phillip Luckles.
Tra.And you are ſhortly to marry a Citty Widdow, one
Tra.For whoſe deare ſake you purchas’d a foure hun-
dred pounds knighthood, to goe a woing in: out of which
ſhee is to giue nine thouſand pounds for a Ladiſhip for terme
Luc.What meane you Gentlewoman?
Tra.Sir not to ſcold, or brawle, (a vice to frequent in our
Sexe.) But, in few words (and ciuill ones) to make you ſen-
ſible of a little of that infinite injury, you haue done to one,
whoſe vnualuable portion of vertue makes her fit (beſides
the right ſhee has already in you) to take a brides place, be-
fore your later choyce, or any ſhee, whoſe wealth might
weigh downe hers. You ſtand as if you knew not who I
Luc.Nor what neither. Sure my name’s abus’d.
Tra.Pray ſir bethinke your ſelfe. Has there not beene a
former contract made betwixt you and ſome other.
Luc.No. Nor any faithfull promiſe neither.
[B3v]Tra.
The Northern Laſſe.
Tra.That I may well beleeue, when you forget it.
Luc.I pray ſpeake nearer to my underſtanding: whom
may you ſuggeſt to be the woman ſo much forgotten?
Tra.If you have ſoul or ſenſe, you muſt remember her.
No? Read then her name ſubſcrib’d to that.
Luckles reads.
If pitty, loue, or thought of me,
Liue in your breaſt, I need not die.
But if all thoſe from thence be fled;
Liue you to know, that I am dead.
Farewell good
Conſtance, I am ſorry I haue no further
Tra.Doe you know that name ſir?
Luc.Yes Lady ſo well, that I am ſorry, that a gentlewo-
man of your good ſeeming ſhould haue to doe for ſo light a
peece of vanity. Leaue going o’the devills Errants: His
kingdomes large enough, and too much peopled already.
Tri.Pray ſir, are you in ſober earneſt?
Tra.You are vnhappy then. For you ſhall looſe, in this
diſdaine of yours, more honour then your life time in repen-
tance can cover. So fare you well ſir.
Ex. Tray.
Luc.Farewell old Whiſkin. Slid Ile marry out o’ the
way; ’tis time I thinke: I ſhall be tane vp for whores meat
elſe.
Conſtance! ſhee had a Baſtard tother day too. What a
miſchieuous Maw has this ſhee Caniball that gapes for mee!
Slight a common Trader, with I know not how many! I
maruell ſhee was left out of
Cupids Muſter. Sure ſhee bribd
the Ballat-maker: One that I haue paid at all times too;
here’s one, there’s tother. And now ſhee heares I am to-
wards mariage pretends a claime to mee. And what a Mi-
niſter ſhee hath procur’d! A Divell in a moſt gentlewoman-
like apparition. It had been well to have pumpd her. Is
Pate.Who ſir, the Gentlewoman? I put her in her coach.
[B4]Luc.
The Northern Laſſe.
Luc.Her Coache! Coaches muſt needs bee common,
when their cariages are ſo. By this light,
Oliver, a Bawd, a
very Bawd. Where’s my brother
Widgine, and his Gover-
nour
Anvile? They are wholſomer company o’the two,
Pa.A Bawd! Bleſſe my Maſters wits. But the beſt is, if
hee be mad, there’s that at hand will tame him, or any man:
A fine Cooler, call’d Mariage, to take his batchelors button
a hole lower! Can it bee poſſible? Shee might ha’ beene
Mother o’the Maydes, as well, to my ſeeming; or a Matron,
to haue traind vp the beſt Lady Daughters in the Countrie.
Here comes her Man, againe.
Act. I. Sce. V.
Enter Beavis, to Pate.
Be.Is ſir
Phillip Luckleſſe i’the houſe ſtill ſir?
Pa.Are you the Cock-bawd to the hen was here, ere
Be.Are you mad, or are you drunke ſir?
Pa.Come you to bargaine for a Punke ſir? Faith where’s
the meeting? Wher’s the Supper? at the
Bridgefoot,or the
Be.Nay then ſir, though your Maſter be allowd to mea-
ſure his manners, by his pleaſure, here, on his owne yard,
Ile bee bold to pull you out on’t by the eares, and beat you
Pa.Hold, hold. Pray hold a little ſir. I cry you mercy.
I might bee miſtaken. I ſee thou art a good fellow. I haue
halfe a dozen for thee faith. S’foot what big words and ter-
rible action he has! Is this the Bawds language? Pray par-
don me ſir: I haue been overwatch’d of late, and knew nei-
ther place, perſon, nor what I ſaid at the inſtant.
Pa.I ſir, ’tis an infirmity I am much troubled withall;
a kind of a — betweene ſleepe and waking — I know not what
to call it. I would give tvventie nobles to bee cured on’t.
I pray take it not ill ſir; I vſe any man ſo, when the fits on
[B4v]me,
The Northern Laſſe.
mee, till they throughly wake mee.
Be.What, as I did now? by the eares? Are you come
to your ſelfe enough yet? or ſhall I help you further ſir?
Pa.No, tis very well now, I thanke you ſir. Alas I put
my Maſter to the paines, twice or thrice a weeke, I aſſure you,
Be.A very ſtrange diſeaſe! How might you get it?
Pa.Faith I fell into’t firſt, with a conceit I tooke for
overbuying a bargaine of Drinke. Your buſineſſe with my
Be.Onely to ſpeake with him from the Gentlewoman
Pa.I ſhall acquaint him with it.
Be.I ſhall be your ſeruant.
Pa.I pray pardon my error.
Be.And you my boldneſſe.
Ex.
Pa.O not ſo ſir. Well maſter Pimp I haue a plot vpon
your imployment, as brauely as you carrie it. I know he is
a Bawd by his out-facing. And I doe humble and diſguiſe
my Manhood to worke on him by policy: And if I put not
a fine-ſlurre vpon him for all his braue brauados, then
Oliver
Pate has no braines; nor is there any difference betwixt a
Seruing-man and a Pandar. –––
Ex.
Be.What a Trim-tram trick is this? the Maſter and the
Man both brain-cras’d; as the one vſed me, ſo did the other
my Miſtris. But I haue brought this into a kind of civill
ſenſe againe. Doe wee looke like Bawds? There is ſome
ſtrange ground for this miſtaking. I am ſure ſhee has ever
beene reputed a vertuous Gentlewoman; and has now the
governement and bringing up of a Virgin, of a moſt hope-
full goodneſſe. And I thinke I know my ſelfe; and dare
beat any Man into a better conſtruction of my quality.
Ent. Pate.
Pa.Now wit, and bee thy will! Sir, my Maſter deſires
to bee excuſed;:for he is with ſome friends, on priuate bu-
ſines, concerning his Mariage, which is to be to morrow.
But ſayes, if it pleaſe you to meet him in the Euening, be-
tweene foure, and fiue, in the great Pallace; and conduct
Chim
The Northern Laſſe.
him to the Gentlewoman, hee will attend her with his beſt
Be.Betweene foure, and fiue in the Pallace; but how
ſhall I know him? I neuer ſaw him.
Pa.As I wiſh’d: But you may eaſily. Hee is of a come-
ly ſtature; and will be in a red cloake and a white Feather.
Beſides Ile waite on him.
Pa.Fare you well ſir. Good
Foiſt, I ſhall make a
Whiſkin of you now, and for nothing too. I haue beene a
little bold with my Maſters name in this anſwere; the know-
ledge of which he is vnguilty of. I ſaw how he ſhifted her
off: Therefore I will further bee bold with his name
and perſon, which I will put vpon a friend in ſtore. My ſpe-
ciall friend, Captaine
Anvile, a notable lecherous Tuppe:
He has beene at me for a bit out of my Maſters flocke any
time theſe three Weeks. Ile pleaſure him with her for rea-
dy money. I know tis ſome caſt ſtuffe, that my Maſter has
done withall. And let him take what followes.
Ex.
Act. I. Sce. VI.
Enter Fitchow, Howdee, with Inke and Paper.
Fit.Well ſir. And what ſaid Maſter
Luckleſſe?
Ho.Sir
Phillip, you meane forſooth.
Fit.The very ſame ſir. But I beginne to call him now,
as I muſt call him hereafter. Ladies doe not call their hus-
bands, as they are Knights; as ſir
Phillip, ſir
Timothy, or ſir
Gregory. Did you ever heare my Lady
Squelch call her hus-
band ſir
Paul? No. But maſter
Squelch. Indeed all others
muſt ſir them by their Chriſten names; becauſe they are
Knights, and to bee knowns from other men: onely their
owne wiues muſt maſter them, by their Sirnames; becauſe
they are Ladies, and will not know them from other men.
But to our buſines. What ſaid he to you?
Ho.His worſhip ſaid forſooth &-d.
Fit.Nay, What ſaid you to him firſt? I loue to heare
Ho.I ſaid that as you bad me forſooth
[C1v]Fit.
The Northern Laſſe.
Fit.As I bad you, Clotpoll? what was that? Shall I
ever mould thee into a Gentleman Vſher thinkſt thou, that
ſtand’ſt ſo? Come forwards ſir, and repeat.
Ho.My Miſtris commends her beſt loue unto your Wor-
ſhip; and deſires to know how your Worſhip came home
laſt night; and how your Worſhip haue reſted; and how
your Worſhip dos this morning? Shee hopes the beſt of
your Worſhips health; and would be glad to ſee your Wor-
ſhip at your Worſhips beſt leaſure.
Fit.This was very well: word for word as I inſtructed.
But did you worſhip him ſo much?
Ho.Yes truly, and hee commended me for it; and ſaid, I
Fit.Now ſir. His anſwere? in his owne words.
Ho.Quoth hee. I thanke thy Miſtris, and I thanke thee.
Prithee commend my ſeruice to her, and tell her, my wor-
ſhip came home vpon my worſhips Foot-cloath; my wor-
ſhip tooke very good reſt, in my worſhips bed; My wor-
ſhip has very little to doe this Morning, and will ſee her at
Ho.Twas either ſo, or ſo much I am ſure. But he did not
make me repeat, as you did, till I had cond it by heart.
Fit.Well
Howdee get you downe. And doe you heare
Howdee? If ſir
Paul Squelch come, bring
Ho.I will forſooth Miſtris.
Fit.I bad you learne to call me Madame.
Ho.I ſhall forſooth Ma-dame.
Fit.You ſhall forſooth Madame. Tis but a day to’t, and
I hope one may be a Lady one day before her time.
How.A day too ſoone I doubt in this forward age.
Ex.
Fit.In the meane time, let me ſtudie my remembrances
Imprimis, To haue the whole ſway of the houſe; and all
domeſticall affaires; as of accounts of houſhold chardges,
placing and diſplacing of all ſeruants in generall; To haue
free liberty, to goe on all my viſits; and though my knights
occaſions bee never ſo vrgent, and mine of no moment, yet
C 2to
The Northern Laſſe.
to take from him the command of his Coach; To be in ſpe-
ciall fee with his beſt truſted ſeruant; nor to let one liue
with him, that will not bewray all his counſells to mee. To
ſtudie and practiſe the Art of iealouſie; To faine anger, me-
lancholly, or ſickneſſe, to the life. Theſe are Arts that Wo-
men muſt bee well practis’d in, ere they can attaine to wis-
dome, and ought to be the onely ſtudy of a widow, from the
death of her firſt huſband, to the ſecond; From the ſecond
to the third, matters of deeper moment; From the third to
the fourth deeper yet; And ſo proportionably to the ſea-
uenth, if ſhee be ſo long bleſt with life: But of theſe I may
finde time hereafter to conſider in order as they fall. Beſides,
in all, to be ſingular in our will; to raigne, gouerne, ordaine
lawes and breake’hem, make quarrells and maintaine ’hem;
profeſſe truthes, deuiſe falſhoods; proteſt obedience, but
ſtudy nothing more then to make our huſbands ſo; Con-
trole, controuert, contradict, and be contraruy to all confor-
mity: To which end wee muſt be ſure to be arm’d alwayes
with prick and praiſe of the deceaſed; and cary the Inven-
tory of our goods, and the groſſe ſumme of our Dowry per-
petually in our mouthes. Then dos a huſband tickle the
ſpleene of a woman, when ſhee can anger him to pleaſe him;
chide him to kiſſe him; Mad him to humble him; make
him ſtiffe-necked to ſupple him; and hard-hearted to breake
him; to ſet him vp, and take him downe, and vp againe, and
downe againe, when, and as often as we liſt.
Enter Howdee.
Fit.I marry, now thou ſay’ſt well.
Ho.Andt pleaſe your Ladiſhip.
Ho.One M.
Tridewell, a Gentleman, deſires to ſpeak with
your Ladiſhip, from Sir
Phillip.
Fit.Tridewell! O it is Sir
Phillips Kinſman. I haue heard
him ſpeake much good of him, and entreated mee to giue
him good reſpect; which were enough to marre his enter-
tainment, had I not another purpoſe of mine owne, that may
proue as ill. Bring him vp
Howdee.
[C2v]Ho.
The Northern Laſſe.
Fit.I that was very well This
Howdee doe I meane
with a caſt Gowne to put in apparell, and make my Gentle-
man Vſher; Not onely for the aptneſſe of his name, to goe
on my viſits; but for his proportionable talent of wit and
Act. I. Sce. VII.
Enter Tridewell to Fitchow.
Tri.If I can yet redeeme him, he is happy. By your leaue
Lady: May my boldneſſe proue pardonable?
Fit.Sir, the name of him, you come from, is warrant ſuf-
ficient to make your welcome here: All that is here be-
Fit.I vnderſtand you come from Sir
Phillip Luckles.
Tri.’Tis true, I brought his name thus farre to enter me
to your preſence. But here I ſhake it off, as I would doe his
remembrance, but that I know him too well.
Fit.Too well Sir? How meane you?
Tri.Too well indeede Lady, but in the ill part. I know
him to be no equal match for you. Yet I heare you receiue
Fit.Right Sir. And him onely.
Tri.It is not gone ſo farre I hope.
Fit.Beſhrew mee but it is; and farther too Sir. Hee has
Tri.Beſhrew your fortune then. And if my counſell;
The friendlieſt counſell e’re you hearkned to,
Stop not your ventrous foote from one ſtep further,
(For now you are vpon the brinke of danger)
You fall into a Sea of endleſſe ſorrowes.
C 3Tri.
The Northern Laſſe.
Tri.Look back into your ſelfe; read o’re your Story,
Finde the content the quiet mind you liu’d in,
The wealth, the peace, the pleaſure you enioy’d;
The free command of all you had beneath you,
And none to be commanded by aboue you.
Now glaunce your eye on this ſide, on the yoake,
You bring your neck to, laden downe with cares,
Where you ſhall faintly draw a tedious life,
And every ſtep incounter with new ſtrife.
Then, when you groane beneath your burdenous charge,
And wearily chance to reuert a look
Vpon the price you gave for this ſad thraldome,
You’ll feele your heart ſtabd through with many a woe,
Of which one dyes not while a thouſand grow.
And will be then too late: Now is the time,
Now rings the warning bell vnto your breaſt:
Where if you can but entertaine a thought,
That tells you how you are beſet with danger,
You are ſecure; Exclude it, you are loſt
To endleſſe ſorrowes, bought with deareſt coſt.
Fit.Pray Sir deale freely with me. What reſpect
Moues you to make this ſtrong diſſwaſion?
Is it your care of me? or loue of him?
Tri.A ſubtill queſtion! This woman is not brainleſſe.
Loue of him Lady? If this can be loue,
To ſeeke to croſſe him, in ſo great a hope,
As your injoying; being all the meanes,
Or poſſibilitie he has to liue on;
If it be loue to him, to let you know
How lewd and diſſolute of life he is,
By which his fortunes being ſunke, he is growne
The ſcorne of his acquaintance, his friends trouble,
Being the common borrower of the Towne.
A Gallant lights not a Tobacco Pipe,
But with his borrowing letters (ſhee’s not mou’d)
And if you put him off a fortnight longer,
Hee’l be layd vp for moneys he took vp
To buy his Knighthood; beſides his deep ingagements
[C3v]To
The Northern Laſſe.
To Goldmith, Silkman, Taylor, Millener,
Sempſter, Shooemaker, Spurrier, Vintner, Tapſter,
(All ſtirres her not, ſhee ſtands as if prepar’d
To heare as much of truth, and beare with it.)
Men of all Trades, and Occupations,
From his Mercer downward to his Waterman,
Haue ventur’d the laſt ſixpence on his Credit;
And all but wayt to pay themſelues from you.
And I may well imagine how ’twould grieue
A woman of your wealth, to diſburſe all,
To ſave a Knight out of his Ward i’th’ Counter;
And lack with all his company at home;
While he frequents youthfull ſociety
To make more charge for Nurſeries abroad;
For I haue heard him ſay you are old; and that
It is your wealth he marries, and not you.
If this be loue to him, that I diſcouer
(The meanes to ſaue you to be his vndoing)
Let no man take a friends help in his wooing.
Fit.And how this ſhould proceed from care of me
Falls not into my vnderſtanding Sir.
Fit.Sir I haue conſider’d
Before, and in your ſpeech, and ſince; and cannot
By all that can be ſaid remoue a thought.
I lou’d him not for words: Nor will I vſe
Words againſt yours; ’twere poore expreſſion
Of loue to boaſt it. Tis enough I know it.
Boaſters of loue, how can we Louers call,
When moſt of ſuch loue one no more then all.
Tri.Sure, I was much miſtaken in this woman.
Fit.Nor would I haue you to expect a rayling,
To ſay you baſely wrong the Gentleman:
A way ſo common, common women vſe it.
But this Sir I will ſay, I were too blame,
If I ſhould thinke your loue to him were leſſe
Then the great care of me, you ſeeme to vrge,
[C4]Tri.
The Northern Laſſe.
Tri.Shee will diſcouer me.
Fit.You are his Kinſeman nearly; and reputed,
By his owne mouth, his beſt of choſen friends;
My ſelfe an vtter ſtranger, one from whom
You neuer had, or can expect leaſt good.
And why you ſhould, for a reſpect ſo contrary,
Call my poore wit in queſtion to beleeue you,
Like a falſe witnes ’gainſt anothers life,
Ready to take his puniſhment.
Fit.Nor will
I fondly thinke you meant to ſeeke,
Croſſing his Match, to make it for your ſelfe:
Both for my knowen unworthineſſe; and your
Deprauing him being no poſſble way
To make me thinke the better of your worth.
Tri.Can this be ſhee? how ſtrangely am
I taken!
Fit.But I forgiue, and charitably thinke
All this brought no ill purpoſe; pretty Pageantry,
Which may hereafter, ’mong our mariage mirth,
Fill vp a Scene: for now Ile take no notice.
Indeed I will not: you may, if you pleaſe,
And tell your Cuz how haynouſly I take it.
Tri.If thou haſt mercy, Loue, keep’t from my heart.
Wil’t pleaſe you heare me?
And craue but leaue to ſpeake this little to you,
Which ſhall by heauen be vncontrol’d as Fate.
If
I ſhall find him bad,
I’le blame my fortune:
Neuer repent or thanke you for your counſell.
If
I ſhall find him good; and all this falſe,
Which you ſo violently haue vrg’d againſt him;
Ile love him nere the more, nor you the worſe:
For
I am not ſo poore, nor weakly ſpiritted,
That ſhould all friends to whom my faith is bound,
Say on their knowledge, that all this were true,
And that one houres protraction of our Mariage
Should mak’t appeare, that
I would giue allowance
[C4v]To
The Northern Laſſe.
To all their bugbeare reaſons, to deferre
That houre the vniting of our hands: becauſe
Our hearts are link’d by the Diuineſt lawes.
Tri.What haue I done? The curſe of ouer-weening brains,
Shame, and diſgrace, are guerdon of my paines.
O, I ſhall fall beneath the ſcorne of fools:
A puniſhment as iuſt, as great for ſuch,
That doe in things, concerne them not, too much.
Tri.On what a ſetled rock of Conſtancie
She planteth her affection? not to moue,
Though all the breath of ſlanderous reproach,
Driuing tempeſtuous clowds and ſtormes of horror,
Should beat, at once, againſt it.
Fit.Sir, Howdee?
Enter Howdee.
Tri.I would I had not ſeene, at leaſt not heard her
In all ſo contrary to all opinion.
Fit.You are not well Sir.
Tri.They ſaid ſhe was old, vnhandſome, and vnciuill,
Froward, and full of womaniſh diſtemper.
Shee’s none of theſe: but oppoſite in all.
Tri.My witty purpoſe was to ſaue my friend
From ſuch a hazard; and to loath her ſo,
That I might make her loathſome to his fanſie.
But
I my ſelfe am faln into that hazard;
To wrong my friend; to burne in lawleſſe loue,
Which oh that prayers or penance may remoue.
Fit.You are not going Sir?
Tri.I beg your pardon; dare not looke vpon you. —
Ex.
Fit.Gone in a dreame! Well,
I perceiue this iugling.
This ſtraine was only to explore the ſtrength
Of my affection to my luckleſſe Knight.
For which, if both their Cunnings
I not fit,
Let me be call’d the barren wife of wit.
The End of the Firſt Act.
DAct
