You do but touch and take; thou hast undone me:
I was a maid before, I can bring a certificate
For it from both the churchwardens.
TOUCH. SEN. I’ll have
The parson’s hand too, or I’ll not yield to’t.
C. GIRL. Thou shalt have more, thou villain! Nothing grieves me
But Ellen my poor cousin in Derbyshire;
Thou’st cracked her marriage quite; she’ll have a bout with thee.
TOUCH. SEN. Faith, when she will, I’ll have a bout with her.
C. GIRL. A law bout, sir, I mean.
TOUCH. SEN. True, lawyers use
Such bouts as other men do; and if that
Be all thy grief, I’ll tender her a husband;
I keep of purpose two or three gulls in pickle
To eat such mutton with, and she shall choose one.
Do but in courtesy, faith, wench, excuse me
Of this half yard of flesh, in which, I think,
It wants a nail or two.
C. GIRL. No; thou shalt find, villain,
It hath right shape, and all the nails it should have.
TOUCH. SEN. Faith, I am poor; do a charitable deed, wench;
I am a younger brother, and have nothing.
C. GIRL. Nothing? thou hast too much, thou lying villain,
Unless thou wert more thankful!
TOUCH. SEN. I’ve no dwelling;
I brake up house but this morning; pray thee, pity me;
I’m a good fellow, faith; have been too kind
To people of your gender; if I ha’t
Without35 my belly, none of your sex shall want it;
That word has been of force to move a woman.
There’s tricks enough to rid thy hand on’t, wench;
Some rich man’s porch to-morrow before day,
Or else anon i’ the evening; twenty devices.
Here’s all I have, i’faith; take purse and all,
And would I were rid of all the ware i’ the shop so!
[Gives money]
C. GIRL. Where I find manly dealings, I am pitiful:
This shall not trouble you.
TOUCH. SEN. And I protest, wench,
The next I’ll keep myself.
C. GIRL. Soft, let it be got first.
This is the fifth; if e’er I venture more,
Where I now go for a maid, may I ride for a whore!36
Exit
TOUCH. SEN. What shift she’ll make now with this piece of flesh
In this strict time of Lent, I cannot imagine;
Flesh dare not peep abroad now: I have known
This city now above this seven years,
But, I protest, in better state of government
I never knew it yet, nor ever heard of;
There have been more religious wholesome laws
In the half-circle of a year erected
For common good than memory e’er knew of,
Setting apart corruption of promoters,37
And other poisonous officers, that infect
And with a venomous breath taint every goodness.
Enter Sir Oliver Kix and Lady Kix
LADY KIX. O that e’er I was begot, or bred, or born!
SIR OL. Be content, sweet wife.
TOUCH. SEN. [Aside] What’s here to do now?
I hold my life she’s in deep passion38
For the imprisonment of veal and mutton,
Now kept in garrets; weeps for some calf’s head now:
Methinks her husband’s head might serve, with bacon.
Enter Touchwood junior
TOUCH. JUN. Hist!
SIR OL. Patience, sweet wife.
TOUCH. JUN. Brother, I’ve sought you strangely.
TOUCH. SEN. Why, what’s the business?
TOUCH. JUN. With all speed thou canst
procure a license for me.
TOUCH. SEN. How, a license?
TOUCH. JUN. Cud’s foot, she’s lost else! I shall miss her ever.
TOUCH. SEN. Nay, sure thou shalt not miss so fair a mark
For thirteen shillings fourpence.39
TOUCH. JUN. Thanks by hundreds!
Exeunt Touchwood senior and junior
SIR OL. Nay, pray thee, cease; I’ll be at more cost yet,
Thou know’st we’re rich enough.
LADY KIX. All but in blessings,
And there the beggar goes beyond us: O-o-o!
To be seven years a wife, and not a child!
O, not a child!
SIR OL. Sweet wife, have patience.
LADY KIX. Can any woman have a greater cut?
SIR OL. I know ’tis great, but what of that, sweet wife?
I cannot do withal;40 there’s things making,
By thine own doctor’s advice, at pothecary’s:
I spare for nothing, wife; no, if the price
Were forty marks a spoonful, I would give
A thousand pound to purchase fruitfulness:
It is but bating so many good works
In the erecting of bridewells41 and spittlehouses,42
And so fetch it up again; for having none,
I mean to make good deeds my children.
LADY KIX. Give me but those good deeds, and I’ll find children.
SIR OL. Hang thee, thou’st had too many!
LADY KIX. Thou liest, brevity.
SIR OL. O horrible! dar’st thou call me brevity?
Dar’st thou be so short with me?
LADY KIX. Thou deserv’st worse:
Think but upon the goodly lands and livings
That’s kept back through want on’t.
SIR OL. Talk not on’t, pray thee;
Thou’lt make me play the woman and weep too.
LADY KIX. ’Tis our dry barrenness puffs up Sir Walter;
None gets by your not getting but that knight;43
He’s made by th’ means, and fats his fortunes shortly
In a great dowry with a goldsmith’s daughter.
SIR OL. They may be all deceived; be but you patient, wife.
LADY KIX. I’ve suffered a long time.
SIR OL. Suffer thy heart out;
A pox suffer thee!
LADY KIX. Nay, thee, thou desertless slave!
SIR OL. Come, come, I ha’ done: you’ll to the gossiping44
Of Master Allwit’s child?
LADY KIX. Yes, to my much joy!
Every one gets before me; there’s my sister
Was married but at Bartholomew Eve45 last,
And she can have two children at a birth:
O, one of them, one of them, would ha’ served my turn!
SIR OL. Sorrow consume thee! thou’rt still crossing me,
And know’st my nature.
Enter Maid
MAID. O mistress! [Aside]—weeping or railing,
That’s our house-harmony.
LADY KIX. What sayst, Jug?
MAID. The sweetest news!
LADY KIX. What is’t, wench?
MAID. Throw down your doctor’s drugs,
They’re all but heretics; I bring certain remedy,
That has been taught and proved, and never failed.
SIR OL. O that, that, that, or nothing!
MAID. There’s a gentleman,
I haply have his name too, that has got
Nine children by one water that he useth:
It never misses; they come so fast upon him,
He was fain to give it over.
LADY KIX. His name, sweet Jug?
MAID. One Master Touchwood, a fine gentleman.
But run behind-hand much with getting children.
SIR OL. Is’t possible!
MAID. Why, sir, he’ll undertake,
Using that water, within fifteen year,
For all your wealth, to make you a poor man,
You shall so swarm with children.
SIR OL. I’ll venture that, i’faith.
LADY KIX. That shall you,
husband.
MAID. But I must tell you first, he’s very dear.
SIR OL. No matter, what serves wealth for?
LADY KIX. True, sweet husband;
There’s land to come; put case46 his water stands me
In some five hundred pound a pint,
’Twill fetch a thousand, and a kersten47 soul,
And that’s worth all, sweet husband: I’ll about it.
Exeunt
SCENE II
Enter Allwit
ALLWIT. I’ll go bid gossips48 presently myself,
That’s all the work I’ll do; nor need I stir,
But that it is my pleasure to walk forth,
And air myself a little: I am tied
To nothing in this business; what I do
Is merely recreation, not constraint.
Here’s running to and fro! nurse upon nurse,
Three charwomen, besides maids and neighbors’ children.
Fie, what a trouble have I rid my hands on!
It makes me sweat to think on’t.
Enter Sir Walter Whorehound
SIR WAL. How now, Jack?
ALLWIT. I’m going to bid gossips for your worship’s child, sir;
A goodly girl, i’faith! give you joy on her;
She looks as if she had two thousand pound
To her portion, and run away with a tailor;
A fine plump black-eyed slut: under correction, sir,
I take delight to see her.—Nurse!
Enter Dry Nurse
DRY N. Do you call, sir?
ALLWIT. I call not you, I call the wet nurse hither.
Exit Dry Nurse
Give me the wet nurse!—
Enter Wet Nurse carrying child
Ay, ’tis thou; come hither,
Come hither:
Let’s see her once again; I cannot choose
But buss her thrice an hour.
WET N. You may be proud on’t, sir;
’Tis the best piece of work that e’er you did.
ALLWIT. Think’st thou so, nurse? what sayst to Wat and Nick?
WET N. They’re pretty children both, but here’s a wench
Will be a knocker.
ALLWIT. Pup,—sayst thou me so?—pup, little countess!—
Faith, sir, I thank your worship for this girl
Ten thousand times and upward.
SIR WAL. I am glad
I have her for you, sir.
ALLWIT. Here, take her in, nurse;
Wipe her, and give her spoon-meat.
WET N. Wipe your mouth,49 sir.
Exit with the child
ALLWIT. And now about these gossips.
SIR WAL. Get but two;
I’ll stand for one myself.
ALLWIT. To your own child, sir?
SIR WAL. The better policy, it prevents suspicion;
’Tis good to play with rumor at all weapons.
ALLWIT. Troth, I commend your care, sir; ’tis a thing
That I should ne’er have thought on.
SIR WAL. The more slave:
When man turns base, out goes his soul’s pure flame,
The fat of ease o’erthrows the eyes of shame.
ALLWIT. I’m studying who to get for godmother,
Suitable to your worship. Now I ha’ thought on’t.
SIR WAL. [Aside] I’ll ease you of that care, and please myself in’t—
My love the goldsmith’s daughter, if I send,
Her father will command her.—Davy Dahanna!
Enter Davy
ALLWIT. I’ll fit your worship then with a male partner.
SIR WAL. What is he?
ALLWIT. A kind, proper gentleman,
Brother to Master Touchwood.
SIR WAL. I know Touchwood:
Has he a brother living?
ALLWIT. A neat bachelor.
SIR WAL. Now we know him, we will make shift with him:
Despatch, the time draws near.—Come hither, Davy.
Exit with Davy
ALLWIT. In troth, I pity him; he ne’er stands still:
Poor knight, what pains he takes! sends this way one,
That way another; has not an hour’s leisure:
I would not have thy toil for all thy pleasure.
Enter two Promoters
Ha, how now? what are these that stand so close
At the street-corner, pricking up their ears
And snuffing up their noses, like rich men’s dogs
When the first course goes in? By the mass, promoters;50
’Tis so, I hold my life; and planted there
T’ arrest the dead corps51 of poor calves and sheep,
Like ravenous creditors, that will not suffer
The bodies of their poor departed debtors
To go to th’ grave, but e’en in death to vex
And stay the corps with bills of Middlesex.
This Lent will fat the whoresons up with sweetbreads,
And lard their whores with lamb-stones:52 what their golls53
Can clutch goes presently to their Molls and Dolls:
The bawds will be so fat with what they earn,
Their chins54 will hang like udders by Easter-eve,
And, being stroked, will give the milk of witches.
How did the mongrels hear my wife lies in?
Well, I may baffle ’em gallantly. [Aside]—By your favour, gentlemen,
I am a stranger both unto the city
And to her carnal strictness.
1ST PRO. Good; your will, sir?
ALLWIT. Pray, tell me where one dwells that kills this Lent?
1ST PRO. How? kills?—Come hither, Dick; a bird, a bird!
2ND PRO. What is’t that you would have?
ALLWIT. Faith, any flesh;
But I long especially for veal and green-sauce.
1ST PRO. [Aside] Green goose, you shall be sauced.
ALLWIT. I’ve half a scornful stomach,
No fish will be admitted.
1ST PRO. Not this Lent, sir?
ALLWIT. Lent? what cares colon55 here for Lent?
1ST PRO. You say well, sir;
Good reason that the colon of a gentleman,
As you were lately pleased to term your worship’s, sir,
Should be fulfilled with answerable food,
To sharpen blood, delight health, and tickle nature.
Were you directed hither to this street, sir?
ALLWIT. That I was, ay, marry.
2ND PRO. And the butcher, belike,
Should kill and sell close in some upper room?
ALLWIT. Some apple-loft, as I take it, or a coal-house;
I know not which i’faith.
2ND PRO. Either will serve:
[Aside] This butcher shall kiss Newgate, ’less he turn up
The bottom of the pocket of his apron.—
You go to seek him?
ALLWIT. Where you shall not find him:
I’ll buy, walk by your noses with my flesh,
Sheep-biting mongrels, hand-basket freebooters!
My wife lies in—a foutra56 for promoters!
Exit
1ST PRO. That shall not serve your turn.—What a rogue’s this!
How cunningly he came over us!
Enter Man with a basket under his cloak
2ND PRO. Hush’t, stand close!
MAN. I have ’scaped well thus far; they say the knaves
Are wondrous hot and busy.
1ST PRO. By your leave, sir,
We must see what you have under your cloak there.
MAN. Have? I have nothing.
1ST PRO. No? do you tell us that? what makes this lump
Stick out then? we must see, sir.
MAN. What will you see, sir?
A pair of sheets and two of my wife’s foul smocks
Going to the washers.
2ND PRO. O, we love that sight well!
You cannot please us better. What, do you gull us?
&nb
sp; Call you these shirts and smocks?
[Seizes basket and takes out of it a piece of meat]
MAN. Now, a pox choke you!
You’ve cozened me and five of my wife’s kindred
Of a good dinner; we must make it up now
With herrings and milk-pottage
Exit
1ST PRO. ’Tis all veal.
2ND PRO. All veal?
Pox, the worse luck! I promised faithfully
To send this morning a fat quarter of lamb
To a kind gentlewoman in Turnbull Street57
That longs, and how I’m crost!
1ST PRO. Let us share this, and see what hap comes next then.
2ND PRO. Agreed. Stand close again, another booty:
Enter Man with a basket
What’s he?
1ST PRO. Sir, by your favor.
MAN. Meaning me, sir?
1ST PRO. Good Master Oliver? cry thee mercy i’faith!
What hast thou there?
MAN. A rack of mutton, sir,
And half a lamb; you know my mistress’ diet.
1ST PRO. Go, go, we see thee not; away, keep close!—
Heart, let him pass! thou’lt never have the wit
To know our benefactors.
2ND PRO. I have forgot him.
1ST PRO. ’Tis Master Beggarland’s man, the wealthy merchant,
That is in fee with us.
2ND PRO. Now I’ve a feeling of him.
Exit Man
1ST PRO. You know he purchased the whole Lent together,
Gave us ten groats a-piece on Ash Wednesday.
2ND PRO. True, true.
1ST PRO. A wench!
2ND PRO. Why, then, stand close indeed.
Enter Country Girl with a basket
C. GIRL. [Aside] Women had need of wit, if they’ll shift here,
And she that hath wit may shift anywhere.
1ST PRO. Look, look! poor fool, sh’as left the rump uncovered too,
More to betray her! this is like a murderer
That will outface the deed with a bloody band.58
2ND PRO. What time of the year is’t, sister?
C. GIRL. O sweet gentlemen!
I’m a poor servant, let me go.
1ST PRO. You shall, wench,
But this must stay with us.
C. GIRL. O you undo me, sir!
’Tis for a wealthy gentlewoman that takes physic, sir;
The doctor does allow my mistress mutton.
O, as you tender the dear life of a gentlewoman!
I’ll bring my master to you; he shall show you
A true authority from the higher powers,
And I’ll run every foot.
2ND PRO. Well, leave your basket then,
And run and spare not.
C. GIRL. Will you swear then to me
To keep it till I come?
1ST PRO. Now by this light I will.
C. GIRL. What say you, gentlemen?
2ND PRO. What a strange wench ’tis!—
The Duchess of Malfi Page 41