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Pru. No, I will tell him, as it is indeed;

I come from the fine, froward, frampul lady,
One was run mad with pride, wild with self-love,
But late encountering a wise man who scorn'd her,
And knew the way to his own bed, without
Borrowing her warming-pan, she hath recover'd
Part of her wits; so much as to consider

How far she hath trespass'd, upon whom, and how,
And now sits penitent and solitary,

Like the forsaken turtle, in the volary

Of the Light Heart, the cage, she hath abused,
Mourning her folly, weeping at the height

She measures with her eyes, from whence she is fall'n,

Since she did branch it on the top o' the wood.

Lady F. I prithee, Prue, abuse me enough, that's

use me

As thou think'st fit, any coarse way, to humble me,
Or bring me home again, or Lovel on:

Thou dost not know my sufferings, what I feel,
My fires and fears are met; I burn and freeze,
My liver's one great coal, my heart shrunk up
With all the fibres, and the mass of blood
Within me, is a standing lake of fire,
Curl'd with the cold wind of my gelid sighs,
That drive a drift of sleet through all my body,
And shoot a February through my veins.
Until I see him, I am drunk with thirst,
And surfeited with hunger of his presence.
I know not whêr I am, or no ;1 or speak,
Or whether thou dost hear me.

1 I know not whêr I am, or no.] A contraction of whether; it occurs again in the Epigrams:

"Who shall doubt, Donne, whêr I a poet be,
When I dare send my epigrams to thee." Epig. 96.

It is frequently found thus contracted in Shakspeare.

WHAL.

Pru. Spare expressions.

I'll once more venture for your ladyship,
So you will use your fortunes reverently.

Lady F. Religiously, dear Prue: Love and his mother,

I'll build them several churches, shrines, and altars,
And over head, I'll have, in the glass windows,
The story of this day be painted, round,
For the poor laity of love to read :

I'll make myself their book, nay, their example,
To bid them take occasion by the forelock,
And play no after-games of love hereafter.

Host. [coming forward with FLY.] And here your host and's Fly witness your vows,

And like two lucky birds, bring the

presage

Of a loud jest; lord Beaufort's married.

Lady F. Ha!

Fly. All to-be-married.

Pru. To whom, not your son?

Host. The same, Prue. If her ladyship could take

truce

A little with her passion, and give way

To their mirth now running

Lady F. Runs it mirth! let it come,

It shall be well received, and much made of it.
Pru. We must of this, it was our own conception.

Enter lord Latimer.

Lord L. Room for green rushes, raise the fidlers, chamberlain,

Call up the house in arms!

Host. This will rouse Lovel.

Fly. And bring him on too.

Lord L. Sheelee-nien Thomas

Runs like a heifer bitten with the brize,
About the court, crying on Fly, and cursing.
Fly. For what, my lord?

Lord L. You were best hear that from her,

It is no office, Fly, fits my relation.

Here come the happy couple!

Enter lord BEAUFORT, FRANK, FERRET, JORDAN and JUG, Fiddlers, Servants, &c.

Joy, lord Beaufort!

Fly. And my young lady too.

Host. Much joy, my lord!

Lord B. I thank you all; I thank thee, father Fly. Madam, my cousin, you look discomposed,

I have been bold with a sallad after supper, your own lettice here.

Of

Lady F. You have, my lord:

But laws of hospitality, and fair rites,
Would have made me acquainted.

Lord B. In your own house,

I do acknowledge; else I much had trespass'd.
But in an inn, and public, where there is license
Of all community; a pardon of course

May be sued out.

Lord L. It will, my lord, and carry it.
I do not see, how any storm or tempest
Can help it now.

Pru. The thing being done and past,
You bear it wisely, and like a lady of judgment.
Lord B. She is that, secretary Prue.

Pru. Why secretary,

My wise lord? is your brain [too] lately married! Lord B. Your reign is ended, Prue, no sovereign

now:

Your date is out, and dignity expired.

Pru. I am annull'd; how can I treat with Lovel, Without a new commission?

Lady F. Thy gown's commission.

Host. Have patience, Prue, expect, bid the lord joy. Pru. And this brave lady too. I wish them joy!

[blocks in formation]

Jug. All joy!

Host. Ay, the house full of joy.

Fly. Play the bells, fidlers, crack your strings with joy.

Music. Pru. But, lady Latice, you shew'd a neglect Un-to-be-pardon'd, to'ards my lady, your kinswoman, Not to advise with her.

Lord B. Good politic Prue,

Urge not your state-advice, your after-wit;

'Tis near upbraiding. Get our bed ready, chamberlain,

And host, a bride-cup; you have rare conceits,
And good ingredients; ever an old host,

Upon the road, has his provocative drinks.

Lord L. He is either a good bawd, or a physician. Lord B. 'Twas well he heard you not, his back was turn'd.

A bed, the genial bed! a brace of boys,

To-night, I play for.

Pru. Give us points, my lord.2

Lord B. Here take them, Prue, my cod-piece point, and all.

boys.

I have clasps, my Lætice' arms; here take them, [Throws off his doublet, &c. What, is the chamber ready? Speak, why stare you On one another.

For. No, sir.

Lord B. And why no?

2 Give us points.] The fringe, or tagged laces with which the breeches were fastened, or trussed (as the expression was) to the doublet. These tags, which supplied the place of buttons, were sometimes very costly, being formed of silver, gold, and occasionally of precious stones, cornelians, agats, &c. To shew the impatience of a bridegroom, it was a custom (not indeed of the most delicate nature,) to tear them off, instead of untying them, and throw them, to be scrambled for, amongst the guests.

For. My master has forbid it: he yet doubts, That you are married.

Lord B. Ask his vicar-general,

His Fly, here.

Fly. I must make that good; they are married. Host. But I must make it bad, my hot young lord.

Give him his doublet again, the air is piercing;
You may take cold, my lord. See whom you have

married,

Your host's son, and a boy!

Fly. You are abused.

[Pulls off FRANK's head-dress.

Lady F. Much joy, my lord!

Pru. If this be your Lætitia,

She'll prove a counterfeit mirth, and a clipp'd lady. Ser. A boy, a boy, my lord has married a boy! Lord L. Raise all the house in shout and laughter, a boy!

Host. Stay, what is here! peace, rascals, stop your

throats.

Enter Nurse hastily.

Nurse. That maggot, worm, that insect! O my child,

My daughter! where's that Fly? I'll fly in his face, The vermin, let me come to him.

Fly. Why, nurse Sheelee?

Nurse. Hang thee, thou parasite, thou son of

crumbs

And orts, thou hast undone me, and my child,
My daughter, my dear daughter!

Host. What means this?

Nurse. O sir, my daughter, my dear child is ruin'd, By this your Fly, here, married in a stable,

And sold unto a husband.

Host. Stint thy cry,

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