Act 2 — Scene I.[4260]

Born. ’T is a strange humour I have undertaken, To dance, and play, and spend as fast as she does; But I am resolv’d: it may do good upon her, And fright her into thrift. Nay, I ’ll endeavour To make her jealous too; if this do not5 Allay her gamboling, she ’s past a woman, And only a miracle must tame her.

Stew. ’T is master Frederick, my lady’s nephew. Born. What of him? Stew. Is come from the university. Born. By whose directions? Stew. It seems, my lady’s. Born. Let me speak with him10 Before he see his aunt. [Exit Stew.]—I do not like it.— Enter [Steward, with] Master Frederick, [in his college dress.] Master Frederick, welcome! I expected not So soon your presence; what ’s the hasty cause? Fred. These letters, from my tutor, will acquaint you. [Gives Bornwell letters.] Stew. Welcome home, sweet Master Frederick! Fred. Where ’s my aunt?15 Stew. She ’s busy about her painting, in her closet; The outlandish man of art is copying out Her countenance. Fred. She is sitting for her picture? Stew. Yes, sir; and when ’t is drawn she will be hang’d Next the French cardinal, in the dining-room. But when she hears you ’re come, she will dismiss21 The Belgic gentleman, to entertain Your worship. Fred. Change of air has made you witty. Born. Your tutor gives you a handsome character, Frederick, and is sorry your aunt’s pleasure25 Commands you from your studies; but I hope You have no quarrel to the liberal arts. Learning is an addition[4261] beyond Nobility of birth. Honour of blood, Without the ornament of knowledge, is30 A glorious[4262] ignorance. Fred. I never knew more sweet and happy hours Than I employ’d upon my books. I heard A part of my philosophy, and was so Delighted with the harmony of nature,35 I could have wasted my whole life upon ’t. Born. [Aside.] ’T is pity a rash indulgence should corrupt So fair a genius! She ’s here; I ’ll observe.

Fred. My most lov’d aunt! Lady B. Support me, I shall faint. Little. What ails your ladyship? Lady B. Is that Frederick,40 In black? Kick. Yes, madam; but the doublet ’s satin. Lady B. The boy ’s undone! Fred. Madam, you appear troubled. Lady B. Have I not cause? Was not I trusted with Thy education, boy, and have they sent thee Home like a very scholar! Kick. ’T was ill done,45 Howe’er they us’d him in the university, To send him to his friends thus. Fred. Why, sir? Black, (For ’t is the colour that offends your eye-sight,) Is not, within my reading, any blemish; Sables are no disgrace in heraldry.50 Kick. ’T is coming from the college thus, that makes it Dishonourable. While you wore it for Your father, it was commendable; or were Your aunt dead, you might mourn, and justify. Lady B. What luck[4263] I did not send him into France!55 They would have given him generous education, Taught him another garb, to wear his lock,[4264] And shape, as gaudy as the summer; how To dance, and wag his feather à-la-mode, To compliment, and cringe; to talk not modestly,60 Like, “ay forsooth,” and “no forsooth;” to blush, And look so like a chaplain!—There he might Have learn’d a brazen confidence, and observ’d So well the custom of the country, that He might, by this time, have invented fashions For us, and been a benefit to the kingdom;66 Preserv’d our tailors in their wits, and sav’d The charge of sending into foreign courts For pride and antic fashions.—Observe In what a posture he does hold his hat now!70 Fred. Madam, with your pardon, you have practis’d Another dialect than was taught me when I was commended to your care and breeding. I understand not this; Latin or Greek Are more familiar to my apprehension:75 Logic was not so hard in my first lectures As your strange language. Lady B. Some strong waters; oh! Little. Comfits will be as comfortable to your stomach, madam. [Offers his box.] Lady B. I fear he ’s spoil’d for ever! He did name Logic, and may, for aught I know, be gone80 So far to understand it. I did always Suspect they would corrupt him in the college.— Will your Greek saws and sentences discharge The mercer? Or is Latin a fit language To court a mistress in?—Master Alexander,85 If you have any charity, let me Commend him to your breeding.—I suspect I must employ my doctor first, to purge The university that lies in ’s head; It alters his complexion. Kick. If you dare90 Trust me to serve him— Lady B. Master Littleworth, Be you join’d in commission. Little. I will teach him Postures and rudiments. Lady B. I have no patience To see him in this shape; it turns my stomach. When he has cast his academic skin95 He shall be yours. I am bound in conscience To see him bred; his own state shall maintain The charge, while he ’s my ward.—Come hither, sir. Fred. What does my aunt mean to do with me? Stew. To make you a fine gentleman, and translate you100 Out of your learned language, sir, into The present Goth and Vandal, which is French. Born. [Aside.] Into what mischief will this humour ebb? She will undo the boy; I see him ruin’d. My patience is not manly; but I must105 Use stratagem to reduce her: open ways Give me no hope. Stew. You shall be obey’d, madam. Exeunt [all but Frederick and Steward]. Fred. Master Steward, are you sure we do not dream? Was ’t not my aunt you talkt to? Stew. One that loves you Dear as her life. These clothes do not become you,110 You must have better, sir— Fred. There are not old. Stew. More suitable to the town and time; we keep No Lent here, nor is ’t my lady’s pleasure you Should fast from anything you have a mind to; Unless it be your learning, which she would have you115 Forget with all convenient speed that may be, For the credit of your noble family. The case is alter’d since we liv’d i’ th’ country; We do not now invite the poor o’ th’ parish To dinner, keep a table for the tenants;120 Our kitchen does not smell of beef; the cellar Defies the price of malt and hops; the footmen And coach-drivers may be drunk like gentlemen, With wine; nor will three fiddlers upon holidays, With aid of bag-pipes, that call’d in the country125 To dance, and plough the hall up with their hob-nails, Now make my lady merry. We do feed Like princes, and feast nothing else but princes; And are these robes fit to to be seen amongst ’em? Fred. My lady keeps a court then! Is Sir Thomas130 Affected[4265] with this state and cost? Stew. He was not, But is converted: and I hope you wo’ not Persist in heresy, but take a course Of riot, to content your friends; you shall Want nothing, if you can be proud, and spend it135 For my lady’s honour. Here are a hundred Pieces, will serve you till you have new clothes; I will present you with a nag of mine, Poor tender of my service, please you accept; My lady’s smile more than rewards me for it.140 I must provide fit servants to attend you, Monsieurs, for horse and foot. Fred. I shall submit, If this be my aunt’s pleasure, and be rul’d; My eyes are open’d with this purse already, And sack will help to inspire me. I must spend it?145 Stew. What else, sir? Fred. I ’ll begin with you: to encourage You to have still a special care of me, There is five pieces,—not for your nag. Stew. No, sir; I hope it is not. Fred. Buy a beaver For thy own block;[4266] I shall be rul’d. Who does150 Command the wine cellar? Stew. Who commands but you, sir? Fred. I ’ll try to drink a health or two, my aunt’s, Or anybody’s; and if that foundation Stagger me not too much, I will commence In all the arts of London. Stew. If you find, sir,155 The operation of the wine exalt Your blood to the desire of any female Delight, I know your aunt wo’ not deny Any of her chambermaids to practise on; She loves you but too well. Fred. I know not how160 I may be for that exercise.—Farewell, Aristotle, Prithee commend me to the library At Westminster; my bones I bequeath thither, And to the learned worms that mean to visit ’em. I will compose myself; I begin to think165 I have lost time indeed.—Come to the wine cellar. Exeunt.