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From such a rudeness; I was now beginning
Host. She shall command me first to fire
I' mine own town, upo' the market-day,
Convert mine Inn to an alms-house! or a
For lazers, or switch-sellers! turn it to
Lov. Troth, and I confess
I'm loth, mine host, to leave you: your
[mour But Lætitia was lost young; and, as the ruFlew then, the mother upon it lost herself. A fond weak woman, went away in a melancholy, [thought Because she brought him none but girls, she Her husband lov'd her not. And he as
Ferret, Lovel, Host, Prudence.
Fer. Your horses, sir, are ready; and the house
Lov. Pleas'd thou think'st?
Fer. I cannot tell, discharg'd
I'm sure it is.
Lov. Charge it again, good Ferret,
Chalk, and renew the rondels, I am now Resolv'd to stay.
Fer. I easily thought so,
When you should hear what's propos'd.
Fer. To throw
The house out o' the windo'?
• CHALK, and renew the RONDELS.] He is now resolv'd to stay, and therefore orders his servant to begin a fresh score or account. In public-houses, what is called for is usually set up with chalk. But the word rondels requires an explanation: I apprehend it means the circles, which are used to denominate shillings in an ale-house score. Rondel, or roundel, is a term in heraldry, to denote a round ball; and from this use of it, our poet, I presume, applies it in the sense I have assigned.
Host. Brain o' man,
I shall ha' the worst o' that!
will they not [carpet,
throw My household-stuff out first, cushions, and Chairs, stools, and bedding? is not their sport my ruin?
Lov. Fear not, mine host, I am not o' the fellowship.
[it; Fer. I cannot see, sir, how you will avoid They know already, all, you are i' the house. Lov. Who know?
Fer. The lords: they ha' seen me, and enquir'd it.
Loo. Why were you seen?
Host. He gives you reasons As round as Gyges' ring: which, tients, Was a hoop ring; and that is, Lov. You will ha' your rebus still, mine host.
[her, And see where secretary Pru comes from [Enter Prudence.
Employ'd upon some embassy unto you—— Host. I'll meet her if she come upon employment:
Fair lady, welcome, as your host can make Pru. Forbear, sir, I am first to have mine audience,
Before the compliment. This gentleman Is my address to.
Host. And it is in state.
Pru. My lady, sir, as glad o' the en-
To find a servant here, and such a servant,
Of the day's sports devised i' the Inn,
You cannot think me of that coarse condi
And should, with chear, lay hold on any
That could advance it. But for me to think,
But doth proclaim it, in all companies:
Pru. O master Lovel, you must not give
To all that ladies publicly profess, 10 Or talk, o' the voleè, unto their servants. Their tongues and thoughts oft-times lye far asunder. [counsels, Yet when they please, they have their cabinetAnd reserv'd thoughts, and can retire themselves
As well as others.
Host. I, the subtlest of us !
All that is born within a lady's lips-
Pru. Is not the issue of their hearts, mine
Host. Or kiss or drink afore me.
Pru. Stay, excuse me;
Mine errand is not done. Yet, if her ladyship's
are you within ?
Lov. Yes, I will wait upon her and the [bring him:
Host. It is enough, queen Prudence; I will And o' this kiss. I long'd to kiss a queen! Lov. There is no life on earth, but being
There are no studies, no delights, no business,
And all that phant'sied treasure, it is love.
I would know that.
Lov. I do not know't myself, Whether it is. But it is love hath been
The hereditary passion of our house,
You cannot think me of that COARSE CONDITION.] Coarse disposition, Edit. 1631. 10 Or talk o' the vOLER] i. e. without thinking, rashly, and at random: the French phrase is, à la volée.
My gentle host, and, as I guess, my friend;
Host. How then?
[grams, Lov. I ha' sent her toys, verses, and anaTrials o' wit, mere trifles she has commended, But knew not whence they came, nor could she guess. [wooing! Host. This was a pretty riddling way of Lov. I oft have been, too, in her company; And look'd upon her a whole day; admir'd her; [still, Lov'd her, and did not tell her so; lov'd "Look'd still, and lov'd; and lov'd, and look'd, and sigh'd :”
But, as a man neglected, I came off,
Host. Could you blame her, sir,
Best in my silence, had she been--
As you are. Pray you, why would you
stand mute, sir?
Lov. O thereon hangs a history, mine host. Did you ever know, or hear of the lord Beaufort,
Who serv'd so bravely in France? I was
And ere he dy'd, his friend: I follow'd him,
Bearing his aged parent on his shoulders, Rapt from the flames of Troy, with his young son.
[use. And these he brought to practice, and to He gave me first my breeding, I acknowledge, [the Hours", Then shower'd his bounties on me, like That open-handed sit upon the clouds, And press the liberality of heaven Down to the laps of thankful men! but then! The trust committed to me at his death, Was above all, and left so strong a tie On all my powers, as time shall not dissolve! Till it dissolve itself, and bury all!
The care of his brave heir, and only son! Who being a virtuous, sweet, young, hopeful lord,
Hath cast his first affections on this lady. And though I know, and may presume her
As, out of humour, will return no love;
Burn me to cinders.
Host. Then you're not so subtil, Or half so read in love-craft, as I took you. Come, come, you are no phoenix, an' you
I should expect no miracle from your ashes. Take some advice. Be still that rag of love, You are. Burn on till you turn tinder. This chamber-maid may hap to prove the steel, [tress To strike a sparkle out o' the flint, your misMay beget bon-fires yet, you do not know, What light may be forc'd out, and from what darkness.
Lov. Nay, I am so resolv'd, as still I'll love Tho' not confess it.
Host. That's, sir, as it chances: We'll throw the dice for it: cheer up. Lov. I do.
" Then shower'd his bounties on me, like HowRES.] It is pity so fine a passage should have been given with such mistakes; but our comfort is, the emendation is as easy and obvious: for Howres, which conveys no idea, we are to read like the Hours; the poetica goddesses presiding over the several seasons,
Girt thee hard, Pru. Pox o' this errant taylor, He angers me beyond all mark of patience. These base mechanicks never keep their word,
In any thing they promise.
Pru. 'Tis their trade, madam,
To swear and break, they all grow rich by breaking, [credits, More than their words; their honesties, and Are stil! the first commodity they put off. Lad. And worst, it seems, which makes 'em do't so often.
If he had but broke with me, I had not car'd But with the company, the body-politickPru. Frustrate our whole design, having that time,
And the materials in so long before? [us? Lad. And he to fail in all, and disappoint The rogue deserves a torture
Pru. To be crop'd
With his own scissars.
Lad. Let's devise him one.
Pru. And ha' the stumps sear'd up with his own searing candle?
Lad. Close to his head, to trundle on his
I'll ha' the lease of his house cut out into
I would ha' toucht, but stretch'd on his own
Lad. Burning i' the hand
With the pressing-iron cannot save him.
Now I have got this on: I do forgive him, What robes he should ha' brought.
Lad. Thou art not cruel,
Lad. 'Tis rich enough, but 'tis not what
I would ha' had thee braver than myself,
Pru. That were illiberal, madam, and mere sordid
In me, to let a suit of yours come there. Lad. Tut, all are players, and but serve the scene, Pru.
Dispatch: I fear thou dost not like the province,
Thou art so long a fitting thyself for it. Here is a scarf to make thee a knot finer. Pru. You send me a-feasting, madam. Lad. Wear it, wench.
Pru. Yes, but with leave o' your ladyship, I would tell you, This can but bear the face of an odd journey. Lad. Why, Pru ?
Pru. A lady of your rank and quality, To come to a public inn, so many men, Young lords and others, i' your company!
Lud. How now, Pru!
Turn'd fool upo' the sudden, and talk idly I'thy best clothes! shoot bolts and sentences T'affright babies with! as if I liv'd
To any other scale than what's my own? Or sought myself, without myself, from home? [fault, Pru. Your ladyship will pardon me my If I have over-shot, I'll shoot no more. Lad. Yes shoot again, good Pru, I'll ha' thee shoot,
And aim, and hit: I know 'tis love in thee, And so I do interpret it.
Pru. Then, madam, I'ld crave a farther leave.
Lad. Be it to license,
It sha' not want an ear, Pru. Say, what is it? Pru. A toy I have, to raise a little mirth To the design in hand.
Lud. Out with it, Pru,
If it but chime of mirth.
Pru. Mine host has, madam,
A pretty boy i' the house, a dainty child, His son, and is of your ladyship's name, too Francis,
Whom if your ladyship would borrow of him, And give me leave to dress him as I would, Should make the finest lady and kinswoman, To keep you company, and deceive my lords,
Upo' the matter, with a fountain o' sport. Lad. I apprehend thee, and the source of
Fra. Yes, madam.
Lad. I love mine own the better. Fra. If I knew yours,
I should make haste to do so too, good
Lad. A modest and fair well-spoken child.
Or what I have beside; divide my Heart Between you and your lady. Make your use of it: [hold, My house is yours, my son is yours. BeI tender him to your service; Frank, be[Only this,
What these brave ladies would ha' you. There is a chare-woman i' the house, his
Lad. A miracle!
Pru. Good madam,
But take him in, and sort a suit for him.
Pru. My lady No-body, any thing, what you will.
Lad. Call him Lætitia, by my sister's name, And so 'twill mind our mirth too we have in hand'.
Pru. Good Trundle, you must straight make ready the coach,
And lead the horses out but half a mile, Into the fields, whither you will, and then Drive in again with the coach-leaves put
At the back gate, and so to the back stairs,
If you be ask'd; and give it out i' the house so.
Pru. Us? do you speak plural ?
Elegant Trundle, you may use your figures:
I know you are secretary to my lady,
Pru. You'll still be trundling,
Or what you will beside, Pru. I do think it My best t' obey you.
Pru. And I think so too, Trundle.
Beaufort, Latimer, Host.
Bea. Why, here's return enough of botk our ventures,
If we do make no more discovery.
Then o' this parasite ?
Bea. O, he's a dainty one, The parasite o' the house.
Lat. Here comes mine host.
Host. My lords, you both are welcome to the Heart.
Bea. To the Light-Heart, we hope.
And so 'twill MIND our mirth too we have in hand.] A marginal reading, in Mr. Theobald's copy, proposes mend our mirth, as the juster expression; and indeed, mind our mirth is hardly sense, without putting on it a very harsh construction.