ACT THREE*
3.1
Enter CROSTILL, reading a letter, [and] SAVEALL.

435CrostillDo you know the contents, Master Saveall, of the familiar epistle you have brought me here?

436SaveallNo, lady, but I guess it a fair expression of the writer’s affection to you, although he desired me to crave your pardon for the rudeness of his style*, it being the first that he hath composed of that consequence*.

437CrostillHa, ha, ha, I’ll trust you, sir, with the full knowledge of it. Pray read it yourself.

438Saveall   [Aside]   I find she is pleased, and my endeavour prosperous for the young gentleman. I am sorry that I delayed a day in the delivering of it.

439CrostillPray read it out, sir, for I find it so pleasant that I could hear it a whole day together.

440Saveall

   [He] reads.   In the first place you shall give me leave to wonder at your impudence (though it be but in your dreams) to have a thought that I ever intended, or can be drawn by persuasion, force, or the power of witchcraft, to marry you —

Bless me! Sure if he writ this, the devil dictated to him.

441CrostillOn, sir, that’s but his first charge.

442Saveall

Secondly, I am to tell you that I am warm in mine uncle’s favour*. And ’tis not a piece a time, or five pieces for a piece of pleasure* can undo me; and so I can have change, and ’scape the captivity of wedlock.

This could no otherwise be done but by the devil, that ought him the shame.

443CrostillWhat follows, I pray? There’s the first and second point past. Mark his method.

444Saveall

Thirdly and lastly, let me advise you, since you are so hot upon marriage, though I assure myself you love none but me (and I thank you for’t), that you frame or dissemble an affection to someone of the city who is but comparative to yourself in blood and fortune*, and so you may make by-use of me as your friend, and have children like me. George Careless.

445CrostillHave you ever heard so quaint* a love letter?

446SaveallLady, the injury done in it to yourself is unanswerable, but my wrong in being his messenger I will make him answer.

447CrostillExcuse me, sir, he has done me a favour. I pray inform him so with my great thanks. But for what you conceive a wrong to yourself, use your discretion. You have no more to say to me for him at this present, have you, sir?

448SaveallNot for him, but against him; I will un-say all that I said before intended for his good.

449CrostillBut I’ll not hear you wrong your former love and judgement of him so,* which made so deep impression here*, that I had locked his love up as a jewel in my breast*, and you in striving now to wrest it thence may break the cabinet. I rather wish you’ll be a friendly means to draw his presence hither, that I myself may mildly question him.

450SaveallAre you serious, lady?

451CrostillI fear I shall not rest before I see him, but do not tell him that, lest in this sullen humour he force his absence to afflict me more. I’ll hold you, sir, no longer. Deal for me as you can; I know you have a guess at my desire.

452SaveallI’ll do you service in it.CROSTILL exits.*
I guess that her desire is to do some act of revenge upon him. And (so it be not mortal) it were but justice in her for so gross a scorn by him cast upon a well-reputed gentlewoman*. Yet is it observed in her that she has a violent humour to do and not to do things oftentimes wilfully against all good counsel or persuasion; she has the spirit of contradiction in her, and an unalterable resolution upon sudden intentions; a most incorrigible will she has that will not bow nor break. This cross* abusive letter therefore may do good upon her, however mischievous he might intend it. If she meant well to him before, it may the faster bring her on. But it amazes me that he should write so, bearing his uncle and myself in hand that he so fairly loved her and besought us to negotiate with her for him. Should she forgive it, yet the wrong to us in his vile manners is unpardonable — and so, sir, I come to you*.
Enter CARELESS.

453CarelessOh, Master Saveall —

454SaveallWhat mischief or despite have I e’er done you
        That could provoke your desperate spleen against me
        To wound mine honour?

455CarelessWhat do you mean, good sir?

456SaveallYou have employed me basely, made me your
        Carrier of scandal and scurrility* to the hands
        Of nobleness and virtue. Could the fiend
        Lust that is in you suffer you to write
        No other sense or language to a person
        Of her fair name and worth than such as ruffians
        Would send to strumpets? Or, it being such,
Enter WAT.
        Could not a porter, or your pander there,   [Indicating WAT]   
        Serve for the lewd conveyance?

457[Wat]*What a welcome’s that!

458SaveallYou might safer
        Ha’ sent it so, and your own right hand with it,
        Than to have drawn my just revenge upon you.   [He] draws [his weapon].   

459CarelessHold, I beseech you; and, sir, though I lose the widow by my error (which was indeed but a mere accident) let me not be so miserable made as to lose you before you hear a short examination.
           [To WAT]   Delivered you the letter which I sent
        Yesterday to the damsel that you wot* of?

460WatYes, sir; she read it, kissed it a hundred times,
        Then made a bosom idol* on’t,
        And says you are the noblest gentleman
        Under a saint that e’er took care for sinner.

461CarelessHell take her for a mistaking whore!
        She has the widow’s letter and the widow hers.
        I found it, sir, when you judiciously
        Said it was ruffian-like and strumpet-language.

462[Saveall]*How could you err so strangely?

463CarelessOh, slightly, slightly, curse o’ my heedless brain!
        And then to be trapped with carelessness**
        When I was so religiously resolved
        T’incline to virtue and a marriage life,
        Thinking with one hand to cast off my follies
        And to take hold of virtue with the other.
        For, sir, (I will confess myself to you)
        The letter you conveyed was in defiance,
        A loose-lived wanton, intended to a whore*,
        That impudently hopes an interest in me.

464SaveallIt was not so directed*.

465CarelessAye, there was
        (The hell confound it on’t) my giddiness:
        I sealed both letters ere I superscribed ’em,
        And so gave each the contrary direction.

466Saveall’Twas a gross carelessness, and if you lose
        A fortune by’t, do not blame your friends.

467CarelessThat fortune should favour a whore before
        An honest woman! ’Twas the sweetest letter,
        The daintiest winning things — the devil’s in’t —
        She must not carry’t from the widow so.
           [To WAT]   Fetch me the letter again.

468WatDo you think she’ll part with’t, sir?

469CarelessCannot you beat it out of her, sir?

470WatI cannot tell how to do that.

471Careless   [Beating WAT]   Thus, sir*— I’ll give you demonstration, you malicious rogue; you that conspir’st with her* to betray me. So good a master I have been to thee, and so good a friend to her. I’ll recompense you both.

472WatYou have undone us both, and will discard us now you are warm in your uncle’s bosom again, but —

473CarelessBut what, you traitor, you?

474WatYou put me in good mind*, and if I do not somewhat

475CarelessI owe you somewhat* for your last night’s absence, too pernicious villain, that kept’st thyself out o’ the way o’ purpose that I should be drunk and abuse myself and the house here. All lay o’ your absence. There’s somewhat more for that.   Beats him [again].   

476Wat’Tis all upon account*, sir.

477CarelessWho knows an honest servingman that wants* a good master?

478[Wat]If I be not revenged, etc.*Exit.

479SaveallWas it your man’s fault, Master Careless?

480CarelessNo, faith, to speak truth he was as much abused in it as you in doing a thing as contrary to his vile conditions as you did to your noble name. But I crave only your pardon. I know not what I do besides. This cross-blow* of chance staggers my reason so —

481SaveallWell, sir, since I have found the error, my reason reconciles me to you, and since it grew out of your equal intent to cast off the evil as to embrace the good, I will re-mediate for you to the widow.

482CarelessBut yet she’ll know I have had a whore. Yet then you may say ’tis such a running disease among young gentlemen, that not one of a hundred has ’scaped it that have proved staid men afterwards and very sober husbands — as, look you, yonder’s one* may prove, whom now I have in good sooth a great desire to beat.
Enter LADY [Thrivewell] and BELLAMY talking.
[SAVEALL and CARELESS speak to each other.]

483SaveallIn your aunt’s presence and your uncle’s house (though I were not his friend) could you be so outrageous? I muse I see him here though.

484CarelessCry you mercy, sir, are you his friend?

485SaveallI make myself so, he being dependent to my noblest lord, whom I am bound to honour.

486CarelessWhat lord, I pray, that I may honour him too?

487SaveallThe Lord Lovely.

488CarelessThat loves women above wine, wine above wealth, wealth above friend, and friends above himself. There’s no scandal in all that, sir.

489SaveallIt goes so of him indeed, but he loves honour above all those.

490LadyMaster Saveall, a word.

491SaveallYour servant, madam.
[LADY Thrivewell and SAVEALL speak apart.]

492Careless   [Aside]   In the name of flesh, for what does his lordship employ that angle-worm to my aunt? He has had her this hour in private conference, close chambered up together, not so much as Matron Nurse in the room with ’em. ’Tis a fine sleek thing, and almost pity to hunt it*, but sure I must beat it, as place and time convenient may serve.

493LadyPray, Master Saveall, move you my husband for it; I would not meddle in his money matters willingly.

494SaveallFive hundred pound for my lord upon the mentioned security; I will break it to Sir Oliver.

495Careless   [Aside]   Is that the business after so much privacy? Very pretty! My aunt’s a woman too, and my uncle may have as forked a fortune as any of the city that lend out money to hedge in lordships.

496LadyI am his lordship’s servant.

497BellamyAnd I your lordship’s*, good madam. And yours, Master Saveall.

498SaveallI am for your way*, Master Bellamy.

499CarelessAnd I, sir, an’t please you.SAVEALL [and] BELLAMY exit.*
[CARELESS begins to follow them.]

500LadyGeorge Careless, I would speak with you.

501CarelessMay I not wait upon your gentleman to the gate, madam?

502LadyNo, good George, though I commend your courtesy, yet would I not you should neglect your own dignity.

503Careless   [Aside]   Umh — I am under government.

504LadyThe young man, if you have modesty, will think you mock him; if not, you’ll make him become arrogant. Know you not whose man he is?

505CarelessNo —   [Aside]   ’tis apparent this over-slighting of him proclaims she loves him—    [Aloud]   whose follower, madam? And I know lords’ followers, knights’ fellows*.

506LadyNot all lords’ followers to all knights, George.

507CarelessTo as many as their fair ladies will give way to, that are not faint-hearted.

508LadyI understand you not, George. Something troubles you; you are not right today.

509CarelessI am only as I am in your favour, madam.

510LadyCome, I know what perplexes you, and ’tis therefore that I desire to talk with you. I am not angry with you, but let me tell you, George, although not openly, I took notice of the pickle you came home in last night, after your uncle was in bed; to whom, marvelling at your absence, I excused you as gone at my request to visit some ladies with whom you stayed supper, I told him, when you were with your rousers*.

511CarelessBut did you never so*?

512LadyIndeed I did, and he was satisfied.

513CarelessOh my sweet lady aunt! I was indeed amongst ’em, and deeply merry.

514LadyAnd drunk as deeply!

515CarelessI will abuse your goodness so no more.

516LadySay and hold, George, for your own good.

517Careless   [Aside]   What’s now become of me? I am under correction.

518LadyI would you could have seen yourself and how your disguise became you, as I was told. I do but friendly tell you of some passages as they were to me related by those whom I have charmed to speak no more on ’t. Be secure, therefore, in your uncle.

519CarelessOh my dear heavenly aunt!

520LadyFirst, at the door you bounced like a giant at the gate of an enchanted castle, before which could be opened, offence was taken by you at your sedan-men for asking money (as appeared afterwards) more than you brought from the tavern, and leaving their office fouler by a distempered stomach-full* than you found it. In the strife for these sad causes, your sword being seized on, you, being unable to use it, were found by my servants at lugs* with your brace of corse-bearers in the dirt, and their poor hovel-chair turned on his ridge in the kennel .

521CarelessI’ll never be drunk again.

522LadyI hope you will say so when you have heard all, George. But, by the way, your late stock being spent, here are ten pieces towards a supply.

523CarelessOh sweet golden aunt*!

524[Lady]*Well, sir, the strife appeased, you were ta’en in. Then, “Hey, is there no sack i’ the house?” “’Tis for you in your chamber” is replied. Up you are had: “Where is the rogue, my man?” “Not seen since yesterday.” “Fetch me a wench.” “Bless us!” cries old Sim the butler, “we have none i’ th’ house, nor cannot send for any out o’ doors.” “Dost tell me that? Is not my lady’s woman, my lady’s chamber-maid, the laundry-maid, the wench under the cook, my lady’s nurse, old Winterplum*, nor my lady herself within? I know, or will know, all the she-things in the house.” But why me up in your bedroll*, George?

525CarelessPseigh.   (Beats his head)   

526LadyYou remember none o’ this?

527CarelessIt is not worth it, madam.

528LadyNor how you scared chamber-maid*, whom I sent in love to see care taken for you, not dreaming of any ill thought in you? Do you remember how you told her, and what you would give her when your uncle died for a small present courtesy? She was fain to satisfy you with a false promise to steal to bed to you, before four men could force or humour you into it.

529CarelessWhat an unhallowed rascal was I!

530Lady’Tis well you consider it now. And still consider, George, how ill excess of wine, roaring and whoring becomes a gentleman, and how well sobriety, courtesy, and noble action; and dangers* wait upon the one sort, and what safety accompanies the other!

531CarelessWine, roaring and whoring! I will lay that saying of yours, madam, to my heart. But wine is the great wheel* that sets the rest a-whirling*.

532LadyTrue, George, for had you not first been sullied with wine, you would not have abused yourself to ha’ tumbled in the dirt with your litter-mules, nor offered to seduce my chamber-maid. Suppose you had overcome her, how could you have come off but with shame to yourself and the utter ruin of the poor wench?

533Careless   [Aside]   Still she corrects me for my meddling with base matters and people. She is not angry, she says; though I called for her last night i’ my drink, she gives me money. I will now understand her, and whereunto all her former favours and her later admonitions are directed, and presently appear a grateful nephew*.

534LadyNay, be not sad upon it, George. As I would win you from your faults, I would have you still be cheerful. If any thought troubles you, you may be free with me*, George.

535CarelessOh Madam, you have made me, and now take me to you.

536LadyHow mean you?

537CarelessFreely and wholly, the truest, faithfull’st servant, and I think the ablest that any lady of your lacks and longings* ever bestowed a favour on, though I say ’t myself. You’ll swear ’t when you have tried me, an’t be but hourly for a month together*.

538Lady   [Aside]   Is the man sound, trow*?

539CarelessI defy surgeon or the ’pothecary can come against me.

540LadySound i’ your senses, sir, I mean.

541CarelessOh, for blabbing, madam, never fear me now I am resolved to live soberly and be only yours. And with such pleasure, with such safety, secrecy, and fullness I will so constantly supply you that you shall not have time to dream of the defects of your old man.

542LadyDo you mean your uncle, and not know whose wrong you unnaturally and sinfully pursue?

543CarelessNo man living, madam, can do it for him more naturally and less sinfully. I am of the same flesh and blood, and bring his youth to your pleasure. How can you think old uncles’ children are got? Or how came up the proverb, “She is one of mine aunts”*, do you think? You would have a child by him. All your caudles and cock-broths* will never do it. An old man’s generative spirit runs all into brain, and that runs after covetousness too, gets* wealth not children. Believe it, much nephew’s help belongs to it*, and then the children are not degenerate. I cannot think but many uncles know it and give way to it because stranger bloods shall not inherit their lands. And so, sweet aunt, if I live not to inherit his, my son may in your first born. There will be a sweet comfort to you.

544LadyBut is all this in earnest?

545CarelessIn earnest? Yes, and I pray so take it and let it be a bargain*; and now presently in the chamber I will make you my first payment for the purchase*.

546LadyFie, fie, you do but say so*!

547CarelessThat shall be tried presently. Come, sweet madam, I find you are willing, and I swear I am resolute, and will be as secret as your own woman. If you will not go, I protest I’ll carry you.
[He picks her up.]

548LadyNay, prithee, George, set me down a little.

549CarelessPsewgh! I need none o’ these wheezings*, I.

550LadyBut prithee tell me, dost thou not all this only to try me, or am I a rogue, think you; or would’st thou seriously that thine own natural uncle, thy bountiful patron, nay, thy father on the matter*, should suffer such a wrong, and done by us?

551CarelessHark there again. Madam, have I not proved sufficiently and plainly that I shall in doing the feat for him do him the greatest right in the world, in getting him and you an indubitable heir, and to give him both the comfort and the glory of it?

552Lady   [Aside]   Was ever such a reprobate?

553CarelessAnd you can do him no wrong (though you had not a lady’s privilege) to cuckold him, for assure yourself he cuckqueans you. Now come*, madam.

554LadyYou speak not on your knowledge.

555CarelessI never was his pimp, but what I have heard, I have heard*. Now come, madam.

556LadyI heard Master Saveall protest within these three days that he thought my husband the chastest man (of a gentleman) that he knows.

557CarelessOh, did he so, madam. Believe it, they two have whored together, and that Saveall has pimped for him oftener than you ever lay with my uncle.

558LadyWhat! Since he married me?

559CarelessWhat else? Saveall is not only his grave parasite but his pimp, and has spent my uncle more in these civil punctual ways* than I in all my whole debauches. What did you think he kept him for? Oh, they are a brace of subtle dry tweaks. Come now, madam.

560Lady   [Aside]   What an inhuman villain’s this!

561CarelessI’ll tell you all now upon our inward acquaintance*.

562LadyYou have told too much already to have any acquaintance with me at all; nor shall you, unless you presently recant all that you have or would have said upon this subject.

563CarelessMadam —

564LadyStand further* and reply not, lest* I call in those that shall sadly silence you. Have you abused your uncle and the next best friend you have i’ the world in hope thereby to abuse me most, that was no enemy of yours till now you justly have provoked me?

565Careless   [Aside]   I took not a right course.

566LadyWas this the best construction you could make of my love to you, or a fit requital, to make me an incestuous whore?

567Careless   [Aside]   Yes, yes, a pox! My course was right enough, but I undertook her at an ill season. Her spruce springal left her but now. I’ll tell her so.   [Aloud]   Madam** .

568LadyCome, I perceive you are sorry; and that’s a part of satisfaction. Therefore, for once I’ll wink at your transgression, especially before others.
Enter CLOSET*.

Here’s one you see*.

569CarelessI do —   [Aside]   the devil blind her.

570ClosetMadam—

571Lady   [Aside to CARELESS]   But tempt me so again, and I’ll undo you.

572Careless   Aside* [to LADY]   I know how you’ll undo me, witty madam.   [Aloud]   Ah—

573Lady   [Aside to CARELESS]   Nay, be not sad, George; discover not yourself and you are safe for once, I tell you.

574Careless   [Aside]   She’ll come about, I see.

575Lady   [Aloud]   But will you, cousin, go and do that for me?

576CarelessMost readily, good madam; I have your full directions.

577LadyAll, cousin, if you forget not.

578CarelessI cannot be so negligent in your service, madam.   [Aside]   I find by this feigned errand she dares not trust her trollop there. I love her wit now too.Exit.

579Lady   [Aside]   He is both schooled and cooled, I hope.   [Aloud]   Now, Closet, what’s your news?

580ClosetOf a citizen, madam, that entreats to speak with your ladyship.

581LadyDo you not know his name or trade?

582ClosetYes, I had both e’en now, but I have such a head*.

583LadyIf you have lost ’em by the way, pray go back and seek ’em, or bring you his business.

584ClosetI asked his business, madam, and told him he might trust me with it without a hand to his book*, but he said it could not be delivered but by his own word o’ mouth to your ladyship.

585LadyWhat strange matter is it, trow? Or what citizen? Is not his name Saleware?

586ClosetYes, madam, and he is a — oh, this head — a —

587LadyA silkman, is he not?

588ClosetYes, madam, the same.

589Lady   [Aside]   I hope his impudent wife* has not told him all. If she has, where’s his remedy in this woman’s law-case?

590ClosetThere’s a gentlewoman* with him too, madam.

591Lady   [Aside]   Then we shall have it. ’Tis his wife, sure. Well, I am prepared for the encounter.    [Aloud]   Bid ’em come up.   [CLOSET exits.]    If they grow violent or too bold with me, I’ll set my nephew George upon ’em.
Enter SALEWARE [with a letter and] PHOEBE [crying].

   [Aside]   ’Tis not his wife.   [Aloud]   What creature is it trow with me, Master Saleware?*

592SalewareCraving your pardon, madam, a few words in the behalf of this poor kinswoman of mine touching a gentleman who I hear lives in your house, Master George Careless, madam, by whom she has received much injury.

593LadyHow, sir, I pray?

594SalewarePray, madam, read this letter.   [To PHOEBE]   Weep not, but hold up thy head, coz. We will not be dashed nor bashed* in a good cause.   [To LADY]   Pray read you, madam.

595Lady

   [She] reads.    I am now, lady, in favour with my uncle and in fair possibility of a good estate, deporting myself (I intend to do) a civil gentleman. To which end (induced as well by reason as by long continued affections) I tender myself to you in the holy condition of marriage. If you vouchsafe your consent, (which is my most earnest request) I shall not only declare myself a good husband, but the most happy, George Careless.

Wherein appears the injury to your kinswoman?*

596SalewareIn flying from his word and deed*, madam. He has borne her in hand these two years and used* her at his pleasure, detaining her from her choice of many good fortunes, and at last sends her this   [indicating the letter]   to make amends for all, and denies his act the next day, sending his man to take the letter from her, pretending ’twas directed to another.   [To PHOEBE]   But never the sooner for a hasty word*, cousin; we will not be dashed nor bashed, I warrant thee.

597LadyHere’s the direction: “To the lily-white hands of Mistress Mariana Gimcrack”. Is that your name, lady?

598PhoebeI am the sorrowful one that is known by it, madam.   [Begins to weep]   

599Saleware   [To PHOEBE]   Never the sooner for a hasty word, cousin.

600LadyI conceive the business and find the error, and my great doubt is over.

601Saleware   [To PHOEBE]   Weep not, I say.

602LadyWhat would you have me do, Master Saleware?

603SalewareYou have discretion, madam, and I made choice of your ladyship to open this matter unto you, rather than to Sir Oliver himself, whom I would not willingly exasperate against his nephew. You may be pleased in a milder way to temper him, and work a satisfaction for my kinswoman. Sir Oliver and yourself, madam, are noble customers to my shop, and for your sakes I would not deal rigorously with your kinsman if a gentle end may be made. But, if you cannot so compound it, the law lies open; money and friends are to be found; a good cause shall not be starved; I will not be dashed nor bashed. Sapientia mea mihi* is my word , and so, good madam, you know my mind.

604Lady’Tis pity a gentlewoman should suffer too much, and I like her so well at first sight that I am easily moved to do good for her. Is she your kinswoman in blood, Master Saleware, or your wife’s?*

605SalewareMine, I assure your ladyship, though my wife can boast as great and noble friends, I thank fortune, as the wife of any tradesman that carries a head in the city, (but that’s by the by) yet I came of a better house, and am a gentleman born, none dispraised.

606LadyWell, Master Saleware, leave your kinswoman with me a little while; you shall not be seen in my act. I’ll try what I can do for her.

607SalewareWith all my heart, good madam.   [To PHOEBE]   And d’ye hear, Mariana*, this is a noble lady. Bear yourself discreetly in the business and towards her: you may get a husband by’t, or at least a composition that may purchase one to shoulder you up. But carry it high and worthy of the house I brag of, or — Sapientia mea mihi, stultitia tua tibi. That’s my sentence.

608PhoebeWell, sir, you need not doubt my high carriage.

609Lady   [Calling offstage]   Closet!
Enter CLOSET.

610ClosetMadam.

611LadyTake this gentlewoman to your chamber, and I charge you let none see her or take notice of her but yourself and me, till I give order.   CLOSET exit[s with PHOEBE].*   I shall do something for her, doubt not, Master Saleware.LADY exits.*

612SalewareI shall be bound to your ladyship. Now to my shop, to which I thank my wife she has been a wild cat these two days — which must be borne with as we are friends — and from my house all night, and yet no green-goose fair-time*. Nor though she were so absent must I be so unfriendly as to question her where or with whom she was. A new article this ’twixt man and wife! But Sapientia mea mihi, stultitia sua sibi*. Thus it must be where man and wife are friends, and will continue so in spite of chance, or high-heeled shoes*, that will awry sometimes with any women.
The shop discovered*, [with] ALICIA [wearing new clothes] and BELLAMY [inside].

She is not yet come home here. What lady’s that*, and not my wife there to handle her handsomely for her money? My servants are such asinegos! Stay, are mine eyes perfect? ’Tis she; ’tis my friend-wife, and in the courtly habit, which so long she has longed for. And my Lord Lovely’s Ganymede* with her. His lordship lay not at home tonight, neither at his lodging. I heard that by the way. I cannot think my lord and she both sat up all night to see the tailors at work, and to hasten the finishing of those clothes, if she were with him, which I would not be so unfriendly to enquire for the worth of a wife. ’Twas right honourably done of him to send her home as gallantly attended as attired, if she did* — a — a — lie with him all night, which I will not be such a beast to believe although I knew it. I must come on her with a little wit though, for which I will precogitate.
[SALEWARE observes ALICIA and BELLAMY while they talk]*

613AliciaOnce more your story, for I am not satisfied with thrice being told it.

614BellamyCan a woman take so much delight in hearing of another woman’s pleasure taken*?

615AliciaAs it was given by you, I can, for I am prepared by it to take pleasure from you, and shall with greediness expect it till I have it.

616BellamyThen know I pleased her so, that she protested — and I believe her — her husband never pleased her so.

617AliciaOr any other man?* You should ha’ put her to that. Her husband’s but a bungler.

618BellamyHow know you that?

619AliciaI do but guess*.

620BellamyNay, she swore deeply — and I believed her there too — no man besides her husband but myself had e’er enjoyed her. But let me tell you, lady, as she was amply pleased, she may thank you.

621AliciaFor sending you, I know she did, and will.

622BellamyThat was the first respect, but not the greatest. For in our act of love, our first and second act—

623AliciaIndeed!

624BellamyIn real deed; I can speak now like an emboldened lover.

625AliciaWell, but what in your acts of love?

626BellamyI had you still in my imagination, and that enabled me to be more grateful to her ladyship, which wrought her thankfulness to you, expressed in a hundred pieces* sent by me, more than I told before, which are your own, she says, since tother morning she was here with you.

627Alicia   [Aside]   That token confirms all. Had I the spirit of witchcraft, when putting upon chance for my revenge, to find reward?   [Aloud]   Have you the money?

628BellamySafe at my chamber for you.

629AliciaOh, you are cunning: lest* I should break with you, you thought to oblige me by’t.

630BellamyI’ll rather run and fetch you twice the sum. I concealed it only to give it you unexpectedly.

631AliciaSweet Bellamy, I am yours. I could be sorry now I have lost so much of thee.   [She kisses him.]    This kiss, and name your time—

632Saleware   [Aside]   Would they had done whispering once*, that I might enter safe in my manners*.

633BellamyTomorrow night.

634AliciaShall you be ready so soon think you after your plentiful lady-feast?

635BellamyOh, with all fullness both of delight and appetite.

636AliciaAnd with all faith and secrecy; I am undone else. You know my vows unto my lord.

637BellamyAnd can you think I dare be found your mean to break ’em.

638Alicia   [Seeing SALEWARE]   No more; my husband comes.   [Aloud]   Pray, sir, return my thanks unto my lord for his right noble bounty, and not mine alone, for so my husband in much duty bound also presents his thanks unto his lordship.

639SalewareYes, I beseech you, sir.

640BellamyI am your willing messenger.

641SalewareHe is my most honoured lord, and has so many ways obliged me both by my wife and in mine own particular that—

642BellamyI take my leave.Exit.

643SalewareStill this is an asinego. I can never get him to stand a conference or a compliment with me. Sapientia mea mihi. What was that, friend, you made me send thanks for to his lordship? What new favour has he done us, besides his counsel? These clothes — the cost was mine, you told me, out of the odd hundred pound you took. What late honour has he done us?

644AliciaIs’t not enough I know, friend? Will you ever transgress in your impertinent inquisitions?

645SalewareI cry you mercy, friend; I am corrected justly.

646AliciaWill you never be governed by my judgement, and receive that only fit for you to understand, which I deliver to you undemanded? Do not I know the weight of your floor*, think you? Or do it you on purpose to infringe friendship or break the peace you live in?

647SalewareNever the sooner for a hasty word, I hope, friend.

648AliciaDid you not covenant with me that I should wear what I pleased, and what my lord liked; that I should be as lady-like as I would, or as my lord desired; that I should come and go at mine own pleasure, or as my lord required; and that we should be always friends and call so, not after the silly manner of citizen and wife, but in the high courtly way?

649SalewareAll this, and what you please, sweet courtly friend, I grant as I love courtship. It becomes thee bravely.

650AliciaOh, does it so?*

651SalewareAnd I am highly honoured, and shall grow fat by the envy of my repining neighbours that cannot maintain their wives so like court-ladies. Some perhaps, not knowing we are friends, will say ‘She’s but Tom Saleware’s wife, and she comes by this gallantry the lord knows how’, or so. But Sapientia mea mihi, let the asinegos prate while others shall admire thee, sitting in thy shop more glorious than the maiden-head in the Mercers’ arms*, and say, ‘There is the nonpareil, the paragon of the city, the flower-de-luce of Cheapside, the shop court-lady, or the courtshop mistress*’, ha, my sweet courtly friend?

652AliciaHow do you talk? As if you meant to instruct ’em to abuse me.

653SalewareSapientia mea mihi.

654AliciaTo prevent that I will remove out of their walk and keep shop no more.

655SalewareNever the less for a hasty word I hope, friend.

656AliciaFie, ’tis uncourtly. And now I’ll tell you, friend, unasked, what I have done for you besides in my late absence, and all under one.

657Saleware   [Aside]    Under one!* Yes, I could tell her under whom if I durst.

658AliciaWhat’s that you say, friend? Methinks you mutter.

659SalewareNo, friend, I was guessing what that other thing might be that you have done for me, ‘all under one’. You have taken the house, I’ll warrant, that my lord liked so.

660AliciaBy my lord’s favour and direction I have taken it, and I will furnish it so courtly you’ll admire.

661SalewareMust I then give up shop, or lie so far remote*?

662AliciaNo, you must keep your shop, friend, and lie here if you please.

663SalewareAnd not with you but there?

664AliciaNo, not with me at all, friend; that were most uncourtly.

665SalewareBut I shall have a chamber in your house, and next to yours. Then in my gown and slippers, friend, at midnight— or the first cock*

666AliciaSoftly for stumbling*, friend. I’ll do you any honourable offices with my lord, as by obtaining suits for you, for which you must look out and find what you may fitly beg out of his power and by courtly favour. But keep your shop still, friend, and my lord will bring and send you such custom that your neighbours shall envy your wealth and not your wife. You shall have such comings in abroad and at home that you shall be the first head nominated i’ the next sheriff season. But I with my lord will keep you from pricking* . Be you a citizen still, friend; ’tis enough I am courtly.

667Saleware   [Aside]   Here’s a new courtly humour. I see no remedy, unless I run myself out of credit, defy the life of a citizen, and turn courtly too.

668AliciaWhat’s that you say? Do you not mutter now, friend?

669SalewareNo, not a syllable, friend. But may not I give up shop and turn courtly too, friend?

670AliciaAs you respect my lord and your own profit, you must be a citizen still, and I am no more a citizen’s wife else; and she must be a citizen’s wife that must* do all in all with my lord friends. Though my lord loves the clothes of the court, he loves the diet of the city best, friend. Whatever I wear outwardly, he must find me citizen’s wife, which, friend — Oh, he’s a sweet lord.

671SalewareWell, it shall be then as the sweet lord will have it. Sapientia mea mihi.They exit.*

Edited by Eleanor Lowe