Part 3

TOUCH. JUN. Back, be silent. SIR WAL. Mistress and partner, I will put you both Into one cup. DAVY. Into one cup? most proper; A fitting compliment for a goldsmith’s daughter. [_Aside._ ALLWIT. Yes, sir, that’s he must be your worship’s partner In this day’s business, master Touchwood’s brother. SIR WAL. I embrace your acquaintance, sir. TOUCH. JUN. It vows your service, sir. SIR WAL. It’s near high time; come, master Allwit. ALLWIT. Ready, sir. SIR WAL. Wilt please you walk? TOUCH. JUN. Sir, I obey your time. [_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.

_Before_ ALLWIT’S _house_.

_Enter from the house[62] Midwife with the child_, LADY KIX _and other Gossips, who exeunt; then_ MAUDLIN, _Puritans, and other Gossips_.

FIRST GOS. Good mistress Yellowhammer—— MAUD. In faith, I will not. FIRST GOS. Indeed it[63] shall be yours. MAUD. I have sworn, i’faith. FIRST GOS. I'll stand still then. MAUD. So, will you let the child Go without company, and make me forsworn? FIRST GOS. You are such another creature! [_Exeunt First Gossip and_ MAUDLIN. SEC. GOS. Before me? I pray come down a little. THIRD GOS. Not a whit; I hope I know my place. SEC. GOS. Your place? great wonder, sure! Are you any better than a comfit-maker’s wife? THIRD GOS. And that’s as good at all times as a pothecary’s. SEC. GOS. Ye lie! yet I forbear you too. [_Exeunt Second and Third Gossips._ FIRST PUR. Come, sweet sister; we go In unity, and shew the fruits of peace, Like children of the spirit. SEC. PUR. I love lowliness. [_Exeunt Puritans._ FOURTH GOS. True, so say I, though they strive more; There comes as proud behind as goes before. FIFTH GOS. Every inch, i’faith. [_Exeunt._

ACT III. SCENE I.

_A room in_ TOUCHWOOD _junior’s lodgings_.

_Enter_ TOUCHWOOD _junior and Parson_.

TOUCH. JUN. O sir, if e’er you felt the force of love, Pity it in me! PAR. Yes, though I ne’er was married, sir, I've felt the force of love from good men’s daughters, And some that will be maids yet three years hence. Have you got a license? TOUCH. JUN. Here, ’tis ready, sir. PAR. That’s well. TOUCH. JUN. The ring, and all things perfect; she’ll steal hither. PAR. She shall be welcome, sir; I'll not be long A clapping you together. TOUCH. JUN. O, here she’s come, sir!

_Enter_ MOLL _and_ TOUCHWOOD _senior_.

PAR. What’s he? TOUCH. JUN. My honest brother. TOUCH. SEN. Quick, make haste, sirs! MOLL. You must despatch with all the speed you can, For I shall be miss’d straight; I made hard shift For this small time I have. PAR. Then I'll not linger. Place that ring upon her finger: [TOUCHWOOD _junior puts ring on_ MOLL’S _finger_. This the finger plays the part, Whose master-vein shoots from the heart: Now join hands——

_Enter_ YELLOWHAMMER _and_ SIR W. WHOREHOUND.

YEL. Which I will sever, And so ne’er again meet, never! MOLL. O, we’re betray’d! TOUCH. JUN. Hard fate! SIR WAL. I'm struck with wonder! YEL. Was this the politic fetch, thou mystical baggage, Thou disobedient strumpet!—And were [you] So wise to send for her to such an end? SIR WAL. Now I disclaim the end; you’ll make me mad. YEL. And what are you, sir? TOUCH. JUN. And[64] you cannot see With those two glasses, put on a pair more. YEL. I dream’d of anger still.—Here, take your ring, sir,— [_Taking ring off_ MOLL’S _finger_. Ha! this? life, ’tis the same! abominable! Did not I sell this ring? TOUCH. JUN. I think you did; You receiv’d money for’t. YEL. Heart, hark you, knight; Here’s no[65] inconscionable villany! Set me a-work to make the wedding-ring, And come with an intent to steal my daughter! Did ever run-away match it! SIR WAL. This your brother, sir? TOUCH. SEN. He can tell that as well as I. YEL. The very posy mocks me to my face,— _Love that’s wise Blinds parents' eyes._ I thank your wisdom, sir, for blinding of us; We’ve good hope to recover our sight shortly: In the meantime I will lock up this baggage As carefully as my gold; she shall see As little sun, if a close room or so Can keep her from the light on’t. MOLL. O sweet father, For love’s sake, pity me! YEL. Away! MOLL. Farewell, sir; All content bless thee! and take this for comfort, Though violence keep me, thou canst lose me never, I'm ever thine, although we part for ever. YEL. Ay, we shall part you, minx. [_Exit with_ MOLL. SIR WAL. Your acquaintance, sir, Came very lately, yet it came too soon; I must hereafter know you for no friend, But one that I must shun like pestilence, Or the disease of lust. TOUCH. JUN. Like enough, sir; You ha' ta’en me at the worst time for words That e’er ye pick’d out: faith, do not wrong me, sir. [_Exit with Parson._ TOUCH. SEN. Look after him, and spare not: there he walks That ne’er yet receiv’d baffling:[66] you are blest More than ever I knew; go, take your rest. [_Exit._ SIR WAL. I pardon you, you are both losers. [_Exit._

SCENE II.

_A bed-chamber_:[67] MISTRESS ALLWIT _discovered in bed_.

_Enter Midwife with the child_, LADY KIX, MAUDLIN, _Puritans, and other Gossips_.

FIRST GOS. How is it, woman? we have brought you home A kursen[68] soul. MIS. ALL. Ay, I thank your pains. FIRST PUR. And, verily, well kursen’d, i' the right way, Without idolatry or superstition, After the pure manner of Amsterdam.[69] MIS. ALL. Sit down, good neighbours.—Nurse. NURSE. At hand, forsooth. MIS. ALL. Look they have all low stools. NURSE. They have, forsooth. [_All the Gossips seat themselves._ SEC. GOS. Bring the child hither, nurse.—How say you now, gossip, Is’t not a chopping girl? so like the father. THIRD GOS. As if it had been spit out of his mouth! Ey’d,[70] nos’d, and brow’d, as like [as] a girl can be, Only, indeed, it has the mother’s mouth. SEC. GOS. The mother’s mouth up and down, up and down. THIRD GOS. ’Tis a large child, she’s but a little woman. FIRST PUR. No, believe me, A very spiny[71] creature, but all heart; Well mettled, like the faithful, to endure Her tribulation here, and raise up seed. SEC. GOS. She had a sore labour on’t, I warrant you; You can tell, neighbour? THIRD GOS. O, she had great speed; We were afraid once, but she made us all Have joyful hearts again; ’tis a good soul, i’faith; The midwife found her a most cheerful daughter. FIRST PUR. ’Tis the spirit; the sisters are all like her.

_Enter_ SIR WALTER WHOREHOUND _carrying a silver standing-cup and two spoons, and_ ALLWIT. SEC. GOS. O, here comes the chief gossip, neighbours! [_Exit Nurse._ SIR WAL. The fatness of your wishes to you all, ladies! THIRD GOS. O dear, sweet gentleman, what fine words he has! The fatness of our wishes! SEC. GOS. Calls us all ladies! FOURTH GOS. I promise you, a fine gentleman and a courteous. SEC. GOS. Methinks her husband shews like aclown to him. THIRD GOS. I would not care what clown my husband were too, So I had such fine children. SEC. GOS. Sh’as all fine children, gossip. THIRD GOS. Ay, and see how fast they come! FIRST PUR. Children are blessings, If they be got with zeal by the brethren, As I have five at home. SIR WAL. The worst is past, I hope, now, gossip. MIS. ALL. So I hope too, good sir. ALLWIT. Why, then, so hope I too, for company; I've nothing to do else. SIR WAL. A poor remembrance, lady, To the love of the babe; I pray, accept of it. [_Giving cup and spoons._ MIS. ALL. O, you are at too much charge, sir! SEC. GOS. Look, look, what has he given her? what is’t, gossip? THIRD GOS. Now, by my faith, a fair high standing-cup And two great ’postle-spoons,[72] one of them gilt. FIRST PUR. Sure that was Judas then with the red beard.[73] SEC. PUR. I would not feed My daughter with that spoon for all the world, For fear of colouring her hair; red hair The brethren like not, it consumes them much; ’Tis not the sisters' colour.

_Re-enter Nurse with comfits and wine._ ALLWIT. Well said, nurse; About, about with them amongst the gossips!— [_Nurse hands about the comfits._ Now out come[74] all the tassell’d handkerchers, They’re spread abroad between their knees already; Now in go[75] the long fingers that are wash’d Some thrice a-day in urine; my wife uses it. Now we shall have such pocketing: see how They lurch at the lower end! [_Aside._ FIRST PUR. Come hither, nurse. ALLWIT. Again? she has taken twice already. [_Aside._ FIRST PUR. I had forgot a sister’s child that’s sick. [_Taking comfits._ ALLWIT. A pox! it seems your purity Loves sweet things well that puts in thrice together. Had this been all my cost now, I'd been beggar’d; These women have no consciences at sweetmeats, Where’er they come; see and[76] they’ve not cull’d out All the long plums too, they’ve left nothing here But short wriggle-tail comfits, not worth mouthing: No mar’l[77] I heard a citizen complain once That his wife’s belly only broke his back; Mine had been all in fitters[78] seven years since, But for this worthy knight, That with a prop upholds my wife and me, And all my estate buried in Bucklersbury.[79] [_Aside._ MIS. ALL. Here, mistress Yellowhammer, and neighbours, To you all that have taken pains with me, All the good wives at once! [_Drinks; after which Nurse hands round the wine._ FIRST PUR. I'll answer for them; They wish all health and strength, and that you may Courageously go forward, to perform The like and many such, like a true sister, With motherly bearing. [_Drinks._ ALLWIT. Now the cups troll about To wet the gossips' whistles; it pours down, i’faith; They never think of payment. [_Aside._ FIRST PUR. Fill again, nurse. [_Drinks._ ALLWIT. Now bless thee, two at once! I'll stay no longer; It would kill me, and if I paid for it.— [_Aside._ Will’t please you to walk down, and leave the women? SIR WAL. With all my heart, Jack. ALLWIT. Troth, I cannot blame you. SIR WAL. Sit you all merry, ladies. GOSSIPS. Thank your worship, sir. FIRST PUR. Thank your worship, sir. ALLWIT. A pox twice tipple ye, you’re last and lowest! [_Aside._ [_Exeunt_ SIR WAL. WHOREHOUND _and_ ALLWIT. FIRST PUR. Bring hither that same cup, nurse; I would fain Drive away this—hup—antichristian grief. [_Drinks._ THIRD GOS. See, gossip, and[80] she lies not in like a countess; Would I had such a husband for my daughter! FOURTH GOS. Is not she toward marriage? THIRD GOS. O no, sweet gossip! FOURTH GOS. Why, she’s nineteen. THIRD GOS. Ay, that she was last Lammas; But she has a fault, gossip, a secret fault. FOURTH GOS. A fault? what is’t? THIRD GOS. I'll tell you when I've drunk. [_Drinks._ FOURTH GOS. Wine can do that, I see, that friendship cannot. [_Aside._ THIRD GOS. And now I'll tell you, gossip; she’s too free. [_Exit Nurse._ FOURTH GOS. Too free? THIRD GOS. O ay, she cannot lie dry in her bed. FOURTH GOS. What, and nineteen? THIRD GOS. ’Tis as I tell you, gossip.

_Re-enter Nurse, and whispers_ MAUDLIN.

MAUD. Speak with me, nurse? who is’t? NURSE. A gentleman From Cambridge; I think it be your son, forsooth. MAUD. ’Tis my son Tim, i’faith; prithee, call him up Among the women, ’twill embolden him well,— [_Exit Nurse._

For he wants nothing but audacity. Would the Welsh gentlewoman at home were here now! [_Aside._ LADY KIX.[81] Is your son come, forsooth? MAUD. Yes, from the university, forsooth. LADY KIX. ’Tis great joy on ye. MAUD. There’s a great marriage Towards[82] for him. LADY KIX. A marriage? MAUD. Yes, sure, A huge heir in Wales at least to nineteen mountains, Besides her goods and cattle.[83]

_Re-enter Nurse with_ TIM.

TIM. O, I'm betray’d! [_Exit._ MAUD. What, gone again?—Run after him, good nurse; He is so bashful, that’s the spoil of youth: [_Exit Nurse._ In the university they’re kept still to men, And ne’er train’d up to women’s company. LADY KIX. ’Tis a great spoil of youth indeed.

_Re-enter Nurse and_ TIM.

NURSE. Your mother will have it so. MAUD. Why, son! why, Tim! What, must I rise and fetch you? for shame, son! TIM. Mother, you do intreat like a fresh-woman;[84] ’Tis against the laws of the university For any that has answer’d under bachelor To thrust ’mongst married wives. MAUD. Come, we’ll excuse you here. TIM. Call up my tutor, mother, and I care not. MAUD. What, is your tutor come? have you brought him up? TIM. I ha' not brought him up, he stands at door; _Negatur_, there’s logic to begin with you, mother. MAUD. Run, call the gentleman, nurse; he’s my son’s tutor.— [_Exit Nurse._ Here, eat some plums. [_Offers comfits._ TIM. Come I from Cambridge, And offer me six plums? MAUD. Why, how now, Tim? Will not your old tricks yet be left? TIM. Serv’d like a child, When I have answer’d under bachelor! MAUD. You’ll ne’er lin[85] till I make your tutor whip you; You know how I serv’d you once at the free-school In Paul’s Churchyard? TIM. O monstrous absurdity! Ne’er was the like in Cambridge since my time; 'Life, whip a bachelor! you’d be laugh’d at soundly; Let not my tutor hear you, ’twould be a jest Through the whole university. No more words, mother.

_Re-enter Nurse with Tutor._

MAUD. Is this your tutor, Tim? TUTOR. Yes, surely, lady, I am the man that brought him in league with logic, And read the Dunces[86] to him. TIM. That did he, mother; But now I have ’em all in my own pate, And can as well read ’em to others. TUTOR. That can he, Mistress, for they flow naturally from him. MAUD. I am the more beholding[87] to your pains, sir. TUTOR. _Non ideo sane._ MAUD. True, he was an idiot indeed When he went out of London, but now he’s well mended. Did you receive the two goose-pies I sent you? TUTOR. And eat them heartily, thanks to your worship. MAUD. ’Tis my son Tim; I pray bid him welcome, gentlewomen. TIM. Tim? hark you, Timotheus, mother, Timotheus. MAUD. How, shall I deny your name? Timotheus, quoth he! Faith, there’s a name!—’Tis my son Tim, forsooth. LADY KIX. You’re welcome, master Tim. [_Kisses_ TIM. TIM. O this is horrible, She wets as she kisses! [_Aside._]—Your handkercher, sweet tutor, To wipe them off as fast as they come on. SEC. GOS. Welcome from Cambridge. [_Kisses_ TIM. TIM. This is intolerable! This woman has a villanous sweet breath, Did she not stink of comfits. [_Aside._]—Help me, sweet tutor, Or I shall rub my lips off! TUTOR. I'll go kiss The lower end the whilst. TIM. Perhaps that’s the sweeter, And we shall despatch the sooner. FIRST PUR. Let me come next: Welcome from the wellspring of discipline, That waters all the brethren. [_Attempts to kiss_ TIM, _but reels and falls_. TIM. Hoist, I beseech thee! THIRD GOS. O bless the woman!—Mistress Underman—— [_They raise her up._ FIRST PUR. ’Tis but the common affliction of the faithful; We must embrace our falls. TIM. I'm glad I ’scap’d it; It was some rotten kiss sure, it dropt down Before it came at me.

_Re-enter_ ALLWIT _with_ DAVY.

ALLWIT. Here is a noise! not parted yet? hoida, A looking-glass!—They’ve drunk so hard in plate, That some of them had need of other vessels.— [_Aside._

Yonder’s the bravest shew! GOSSIPS. Where, where, sir? ALLWIT. Come along presently by the Pissing-conduit,[88] With two brave drums and a standard-bearer. GOSSIPS. O brave! TIM. Come, tutor. [_Exit with Tutor._ GOSSIPS. Farewell, sweet gossip! MIS. ALL. I thank you all for your pains. FIRST PUR. Feed and grow strong. [_Exeunt_ LADY KIX, MAUD., _and all the Gossips_. ALLWIT. You had more need to sleep than eat; Go take a nap with some of the brethren, go, And rise up a well-edified, boldified sister. O, here’s a day of toil well pass’d over, Able to make a citizen hare-mad! How hot they’ve made the room with their thick bums! Dost not feel it, Davy? DAVY. Monstrous strong, sir. ALLWIT. What’s here under the stools? DAVY. Nothing but wet, sir; Some wine spilt here belike. ALLWIT. Is’t no worse, think’st thou? Fair needlework stools cost nothing with them, Davy. DAVY. Nor you neither, i’faith. [_Aside._ ALLWIT. Look how they have laid them, E'en as they lie themselves, with their heels up! How they have shuffled up the rushes[89] too, Davy, With their short figging little shittle-cork[90] heels! These women can let nothing stand as they find it. But what’s the secret thou’st about to tell me, My honest Davy? DAVY. If you should disclose it, sir—— ALLWIT. ’Life, rip my belly up to the throat then, Davy! DAVY. My master’s upon marriage. ALLWIT. Marriage, Davy? Send me to hanging rather. DAVY. I have stung him! [_Aside._ ALLWIT. When, where? what is she, Davy? DAVY. Even the same was gossip, and gave the spoon. ALLWIT. I have no time to stay, nor scarce can speak: I'll stop those wheels, or all the work will break. [_Exit._ DAVY. I knew ’twould prick. Thus do I fashion still All mine own ends by him and his rank toil: ’Tis my desire to keep him still from marriage; Being his poor nearest kinsman, I may fare The better at his death; there my hopes build, Since my lady Kix is dry, and hath no child. [_Exit._

SCENE III.

_A room in_ SIR OLIVER KIX’S _house_.

_Enter_ TOUCHWOOD _senior and_ TOUCHWOOD _Junior_.

TOUCH. JUN. You’re in the happiest way t' enrich yourself, And pleasure me, brother, as man’s feet can tread in; For though she be lock’d up, her vow is fix’d Only to me; then time shall never grieve me, For by that vow e’en absent [I] enjoy her, Assuredly confirm’d that none else shall, Which will make tedious years seem gameful to me: In the mean space, lose you no time, sweet brother; You have the means to strike at this knight’s fortunes, And lay him level with his bankrout[91] merit; Get but his wife[92] with child, perch at tree-top, And shake the golden fruit into her lap; About it before she weep herself to a dry ground, And whine out all her goodness. TOUCH. SEN. Prithee, cease; I find a too much aptness in my blood For such a business, without provocation; You might well spar’d this banquet of eringoes, Artichokes, potatoes, and your butter’d crab; They were fitter kept for your own wedding-dinner. TOUCH. JUN. Nay, and[93] you’ll follow my suit, and save my purse too, Fortune doats on me: he’s in happy case Finds such an honest friend i' the common-place.[94] TOUCH. SEN. Life, what makes thee so merry? thou’st no cause That I could hear of lately since thy crosses, Unless there be news come with new additions. TOUCH. JUN. Why, there thou hast it right; I look for her This evening, brother. TOUCH. SEN. How’s that? look for her? TOUCH. JUN. I will deliver you of the wonder straight, brother: By the firm secrecy and kind assistance Of a good wench i' the house, who, made of pity, Weighing the case her own, she’s led through gutters, Strange hidden ways, which none but love could find, Or ha' the heart to venture: I expect her Where you would little think. TOUCH. SEN. I care not where, So she be safe, and yours. TOUCH. JUN. Hope tells me so; But from your love and time my peace must grow. TOUCH. SEN. You know the worst then, brother. [_Exit_ TOUCHWOOD _jun._]—Now to my Kix, The barren he and she; they’re i' the next room; But to say which of their two humours hold[s] them Now at this instant, I cannot say truly. SIR OL. [_within_] Thou liest, barrenness! TOUCH. SEN. O, is’t that time of day? give you joy of your tongue, There’s nothing else good in you: this their life The whole day, from eyes open to eyes shut, Kissing or scolding, and then must be made friends; Then rail the second part of the first fit out, And then be pleas’d again, no man knows which way: Fall out like giants, and fall in like children; Their fruit can witness as much.

_Enter_ SIR OLIVER KIX _and_ LADY KIX.