PROUDLY. To-morrow noon thou shalt not be at all.
INGEN. Pish! why should you think so? have not I arms, A soul as bold as yours, a sword as true?
I do not think your honour in the field, Without your lordship's liveries, will have odds.
PROUDLY. Farewell, and let's have no excuses, pray.
[_Exit_ PROUDLY.
INGEN. I warrant you. Pray, say your prayers to-night, And bring an[98] inkhorn w' ye, to set your hand to A satisfactory recantation. [_Exit._
MAID. O wretched maid! whose sword can I pray for?
But by the other's loss I must find death.
O odious brother, if he kill my love!
O bloody love, if he should kill my brother!
Despair on both sides of my discontent Tells me no safety rests but to prevent. [_Exit._
SCENE III.
_Enter_ WIDOW _and_ BOLD _like_ PRINCOX.
WID. What's o'clock, Princox?
BOLD. Bedtime, an't please you, madam.
WID. Come, undress me. Would God had made me a man!
BOLD. Why, madam?
WID. Because I would have been in bed as soon as they.
We are so long unpinning and unlacing.
BOLD. Yet many of us, madam, are quickly undone sometime: but herein we have the advantage of men, though they can be abed sooner than we, it's a great while, when they are abed, ere they can get up.
WID. Indeed, if they be well-laid, Princox, one cannot get them up again in haste.
BOLD. O God! madam, how mean you that? I hope you know, ill things taken into a gentlewoman's ears are the quick corrupters of maiden modesty. I would be loth to continue in any service unfit for my virgin estate, or where the world should take any notice of light behaviour in the lady I follow; for, madam, the main point of chastity in a lady is to build the rock of a good opinion amongst the people by circumstances, and a fair show she must make. _Si non caste, tamen caute_, madam; and though wit be a wanton, madam, yet I beseech your ladyship, for your own credit and mine, let the bridle of judgment be always in the chaps of it, to give it head or restrain it, according as time and place shall be convenient.
WID. Precise and learned Princox, dost not thou go to Blackfriars?
BOLD. Most frequently, madam, unworthy vessel that I am to partake or retain any of the delicious dew that is there distilled.
WID. But why shouldst thou ask me, what I meant e'en now? I tell thee, there's nothing uttered but carries a double sense,[99] one good, one bad; but if the hearer apply it to the worst, the fault lies in his or her corrupt understanding, not in the speaker; for to answer your Latin, _pravis omnia prava_. Believe me, wench, if ill come into my fancy, I will purge it by speech: the less will remain within. A pox of these nice-mouthed creatures! I have seen a narrow pair of lips utter as broad a tale as can be bought for money. Indeed, an ill tale unuttered is like a maggot in a nut, it spoils the whitest kernel.
BOLD. You speak most intelligently, madam.
WID. Hast not done yet? Thou art an old fumbler, I perceive. Methinks thou dost not do things like a woman.
BOLD. Madam, I do my endeavour, and the best can do no more; they that could do better, it may be would not, and then 'twere all one. But rather than be a burthen to your ladyship, I protest sincerely, I would beg my bread; therefore I beseech you, madam, to hold me excused, and let my goodwill stand for the action.
WID. Let thy goodwill stand for the action? If goodwill would do it, there's many a lady in this land would be content with her old lord; and thou canst not be a burthen to me, without thou lie upon me, and that were preposterous in thy sex. Take no exceptions at what I say. Remember you said _stand_ even now. There was a word for one of your coat, indeed!
BOLD. I swear, madam, you are very merry. God send you good luck. Has your ladyship no waters that you use at bedtime?
WID. No, in troth, Princox.
BOLD. No complexion!
WID. None but mine own, I swear. Didst thou ever use any?
BOLD. No, indeed, madam; now and then a piece of scarlet, or so; a little white and red ceruse; but, in troth, madam, I have an excellent receipt for a nightmask as ever you heard.
WID. What is it?
BOLD. Boar's grease one ounce; Jordan almonds, blanched and ground, a quartern; red rosewater, half a pint; mare's urine, newly covered, half a score drops.
WID. Fogh! no more of thy medicine, if thou lovest me. Few of our knights-errant, when they meet a fair lady-errant in a morning, would think her face had lain so plastered all night. Thou hast had some apothecary to thy sweetheart. But, leaving this face-physic (for, by my troth, it may make others have good ones, but it makes me a scurvy one), which of all the gallants in the town wouldst thou make a husband of, if thou mightst have him for thy choosing?
BOLD. In troth, madam, but you'll say I speak blindly, but let my love stand aside----
WID. I think it not fit, indeed, your love should stand in the middle.
BOLD. I say, Master Bold. O, do but mark him, madam; his leg, his hand, his body, and all his members stand in print.
WID. Out upon thee, Princox! No. Methinks Welltried's a handsome fellow.
I like not these starched gallants: masculine faces and masculine gestures please me best.
BOLD. How like you Master Pert?
WID. Fie upon him! when he is in his scarlet clothes, he looks like a man of wax, and I had as lief have a dog o' wax: I do not think but he lies in a case o' nights. He walks as if he were made of gins[100]--as if Nature had wrought him in a frame: I have seen him sit discontented a whole play, because one of the purls of his band was fallen out of his reach to order again.[101]
BOLD. Why, Bold, madam, is clean contrary.
WID. Ay, but that's as ill: each extreme is alike vicious; his careful carelessness is his study. He spends as much time to make himself slovenly, as the other to be spruce. His garters hang over upon the calves of his legs, his doublet unbuttoned, and his points untrussed; his hair in's eyes like a drunkard, and his hat, worn on the[102]
hinder-part of his head, as if he cared more for his memory than his wit, makes him look as if he were distracted. Princox, I would have you lie with me: I do not love to lie alone.
BOLD. With all my heart, madam.
WID. Are you clean-skinned?
BOLD. Clean-skinned, madam? there's a question! do you think I have the itch? I am an Englishwoman: I protest, I scorn the motion.
WID. Nay, prythee, Princox, be not angry: it's a sign of honesty, I can tell you.
BOLD. Faith, madam, I think 'tis but simple honesty that dwells at the sign of the scab.
WID. Well, well, come to bed, and we'll talk further of all these matters. [_Exit._
BOLD. Fortune, I thank thee; I will owe thee eyes For this good turn! now is she mine indeed.