Beaumont & Fletchers Works (2 of 10) – the Humourous Lieutenant. Beaumont Francis
Thou art merry,
How e're the game goes: good Sir be not troubled,
A better day will draw this back again.
Pray go, and cheer those left, and lead 'em off,
They are hot, and weary.
Dem. I'le doe any thing.
Leo. Lieutenant, send one presently away
To th' King, and let him know our state: and hark ye,
Be sure the messenger advise his Majestie
To comfort up the Prince: he's full of sadness.
Lieu. When shall I get a Surgeon? this hot weather, Unless I be well pepper'd, I shall stink, Colonel.
Leo. Go, I'le prepare thee one.
Lieu. If ye catch me then, Fighting again, I'le eat hay with a horse. [Exit.
SCENA III
Enter Leucippe (reading) and two Maids at a Table writing.
Leu. Have ye written to Merione?
1 Ma. Yes, Madam.
Leu. And let her understand the hopes she has, If she come speedilie—
1 Ma. All these are specified.
Leu. And of the chain is sent her, And the rich stuff to make her shew more handsom here?
1 Maid. All this is done, Madam.
Leu. What have you dispatcht there?
2 Maid. A letter to the Country maid, and't please ye.
Leu. A pretty girle, but peevish, plaguy peevish: Have ye bought the embroydered gloves, and that purse for her, And the new Curle?
2 Maid. They are ready packt up Madam.
Leu. Her maiden-head will yield me; let me see now;
She is not fifteen they say: for her complexion—
Cloe, Cloe, Cloe, here, I have her,
Cloe, the Daughter of a Country Gentleman;
Her age upon fifteen: now her complexion,
A lovely brown; here 'tis; eyes black and rolling,
The body neatly built: she strikes a Lute well,
Sings most inticingly, these helps consider'd,
Her maiden-head will amount to some three hundred,
Or three hundred and fifty Crowns, 'twill bear it handsomly.
Her Father's poor, some little share deducted,
To buy him a hunting Nag; I, 'twill be pretty.
Who takes care of the Merchants Wife?
1 Ma. I have wrought her.
Leu. You know for whom she is?
1 Ma. Very well, Madam, Though very much ado I had to make her Apprehend that happiness.
Leu. These Kind are subtile; Did she not cry and blubber when you urg'd her?
1 Ma. O most extreamly, and swore she would rather perish.
Leu. Good signs, very good signs, Symptoms of easie nature. Had she the Plate?
1 Ma. She lookt upon't, and left it, And turn'd again, and view'd it.
Leu. Very well still.
1 Ma. At length she was content to let it lye there, Till I call'd for't, or so.
Leu. She will come?
1 Ma. Do you take me For such a Fool, I would part without that promise?
Leu. The Chamber's next the Park.
1 Ma. The Widow, Madam, You bad me look upon.
Leu. Hang her, she is musty: She is no mans meat; besides, she's poor and sluttish: Where lyes old Thisbe now, you are so long now—
2 Ma. Thisbe, Thisbe, Thisbe, agent Thisbe, O I have her, She lyes now in Nicopolis.
Leu. Dispatch a Packet,
And tell her, her Superiour here commands her
The next month not to fail, but see deliver'd
Here to our use, some twenty young and handsom,
As also able Maids, for the Court service,
As she will answer it: we are out of beauty,
Utterly out, and rub the time away here
With such blown stuff, I am asham'd to send it. [Knock within
Who's that? look out, to your business, Maid,
There's nothing got by idleness: there is a Lady,
Which if I can but buckle with, Altea,
A, A, A, A, Altea young, and married,
And a great lover of her husband, well,
Not to be brought to Court! say ye so? I am sorry,
The Court shall be brought to you then; how now, who is't?
1 Ma. An ancient woman, with a maid attending, A pretty Girl, but out of Cloaths; for a little money, It seems she would put her to your bringing up, Madam.
Enter Woman and Phebe.
Leu. Let her come in. Would you ought with us, good woman? I pray be short, we are full of business.
Wo. I have a tender Girl here, an't please your honour.
Leu. Very well.
Wom. That hath a great desire to serve your worship.
Leu. It may be so; I am full of Maids.
Wom. She is young forsooth— And for her truth; and as they say her bearing.
Leu. Ye say well; come ye hither maid, let me feel your pulse, 'Tis somewhat weak, but Nature will grow stronger, Let me see your leg, she treads but low i'th' Pasterns.
Wom. A cork Heel, Madam.
Leu, We know what will do it, Without your aim, good woman; what do you pitch her at? She's but a slight toy—cannot hold out long.
Wom. Even what you think is meet.
Leu. Give her ten Crowns, we are full of business, She is a poor Woman, let her take a Cheese home. Enter the wench i' th' Office. [Ex. Wom. and 1 Ma.
2 Ma. What's your name, Sister?
Phe. Phebe, forsooth.
Leu. A pretty name; 'twill do well:
Go in, and let the other Maid instruct you, Phebe. [Ex. Phe.
Let my old Velvet skirt be made fit for her.
I'll put her into action for a Wast-coat;
And when I have rigg'd her up once, this small Pinnace
Shall sail for Gold, and good store too; who's there? [Knock within
Lord, shall we never have any ease in this world!
Still troubled! still molested! what would you have? Enter Menipp[us].
I cannot furnish you faster than I am able,
And ye were my Husband a thousand times, I cannot do it.
At least a dozen posts are gone this morning
For several parts of the Kingdom: I can do no more
But pay 'em, and instruct 'em.
Men.