Beaumont & Fletchers Works (1 of 10) – the Custom of the Country. Beaumont Francis

Beaumont & Fletchers Works (1 of 10) – the Custom of the Country - Beaumont Francis


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There's no avoiding it.

      Rut. And there's the scaffold where she must lose it.

      [Char.] The bed Sir.

      Rut. No way to wipe his mouldy chaps?

      Char. That we know.

      Rut. To any honest well-deserving fellow,

      And 'twere but to a merry Cobbler, I could sit still now,

      I love the game so well; but that this puckfist,

      This universal rutter—fare ye well Sir;

      And if you have any good prayers, put 'em forward,

      There may be yet a remedie.

      Char. I wish it, [Exit Rut. And all my best devotions offer to it.

      Enter Clodio, and Guard.

      Clod. Now is this tye dispatch'd?

      Char. I think it be Sir.

      Clod. And my bed ready?

      Char. There you may quickly find Sir, Such a loath'd preparation.

      Clod. Never grumble,

      Nor fling a discontent upon my pleasure,

      It must and shall be done: give me some wine,

      And fill it till it leap upon my lips: [wine

      Here's to the foolish maidenhead you wot of,

      The toy I must take pains for.

      Char. I beseech your Lordship Load not a Fathers love.

      Clod. Pledge it Charino,

      Or by my life I'le make thee pledge thy last,

      And be sure she be a maid, a perfect Virgin,

      (I will not have my expectation dull'd)

      Or your old pate goes off. I am hot and fiery,

      And my bloud beats alarms through my body,

      And fancie high. You of my guard retire,

      And let me hear no noise about the lodging

      But musick and sweet ayres, now fetch your Daughter,

      And bid the coy wench put on all her beauties,

      All her enticements, out-blush damask Roses,

      And dim the breaking East with her bright Crystals.

      I am all on fire, away.

      Char. And I am frozen. [Exit.

      Enter Zenocia with Bow and Quiver, an Arrow bent, Arnoldo and Rutilio after her, arm'd.

      Zen. Come fearless on.

      Rut. Nay an I budge from thee Beat me with durty sticks.

      Clod. What Masque is this?

      What pretty fancy to provoke me high?

      The beauteous Huntress, fairer far, and sweeter;

      Diana shewes an Ethiop to this beauty

      Protected by two Virgin Knights.

      Rut. That's a lye, A loud one, if you knew as much as I do, The Guard's dispers'd.

      Arn. Fortune I hope invites us.

      Clod. I can no longer hold, she pulls my heart from me.

      Zen. Stand, and stand fixt, move not a foot, nor speak not,

      For if thou doest, upon this point thy death sits.

      Thou miserable, base, and sordid lecher,

      Thou scum of noble blood, repent and speedily,

      Repent thy thousand thefts, from helpless Virgins,

      Their innocence betrayed to thy embraces.

      Arn. The base dishonour, that thou doest to strangers,

      In glorying to abuse the Laws of Marriage,

      Thy Infamy thou hast flung upon thy Country,

      In nourishing this black and barbarous Custom.

      Clod. My Guard.

      Arn. One word more, and thou diest.

      Rut. One syllable

      That tends to any thing, but I beseech you,

      And as y'are Gentlemen tender my case,

      And I'le thrust my Javeling down thy throat.

      Thou Dog-whelp, thou, pox upon thee, what

      Should I call thee, Pompion,

      Thou kiss my Lady? thou scour her Chamber-pot:

      Thou have a Maiden-head? a mottly Coat,

      You great blind fool, farewel and be hang'd to ye,

      Lose no time Lady.

      Arn. Pray take your pleasure Sir, And so we'l take our leaves.

      Zen. We are determined, Dye, before yield.

      Arn. Honour, and a fair grave.

      Zen. Before a lustful Bed, so for our fortunes.

      Rut. Du cat awhee, good Count, cry, prethee cry, O what a wench hast thou lost! cry you great booby. [Exe.

      Enter Charino.

      Clod. And is she gone then, am I dishonoured thus,

      Cozened and baffl'd? my Guard there, no man answer?

      My Guard I say, sirrah you knew of this plot;

      Where are my Guard? I'le have your life you villain,

      You politick old Thief.

      Char. Heaven send her far enough,

      Enter Guard.

      And let me pay the ransom.

      Guard. Did your honour call us?

      Clod. Post every way, and presently recover The two strange Gentlemen, and the fair Lady.

      Guard. This day was Married Sir?

      Clod. The same.

      Guard. We saw 'em. Making with all main speed to th' Port.

      Clod. Away villains. [Exit Guard. Recover her, or I shall dye; deal truly, Didst not thou know?

      Char. By all that's good I did not. If your honour mean their flight, to say I grieve for that, Will be to lye; you may handle me as you please.

      Clod. Be sure, with all the cruelty, with all the rigor, For thou hast rob'd me villain of a treasure.

      Enter Guard.

      How now?

      Guard. They're all aboard, a Bark rode ready for 'em, And now are under Sail, and past recovery.

      Clod. Rig me a Ship with all the speed that may be,

      I will not lose her: thou her most false Father,

      Shalt go along; and if I miss her, hear me,

      A whole day will I study to destroy thee.

      Char. I shall be joyful of it; and so you'l find me.

      [Exeunt omnes.

      Actus Secundus. Scena Prima

      Enter Manuel du Sosa, and Guiomar.

      Man. I Hear and see too much of him, and that

      Compels me Madam, though unwillingly,

      To wish


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