Act 2 — [Scene II.][4267]

Mar. But shall we not, madam, expose ourselves To censure for this freedom? Cel. Let them answer That dare mistake us. Shall we be so much Cowards, to be frighted from our pleasure, Because men have malicious tongues, and show What miserable souls they have? No, cousin,6 We hold our life and fortunes upon no Man’s charity; if they dare show so little Discretion to traduce our fames, we will Be guilty of so much wit to laugh at ’em.10 Isab. ’T is a becoming fortitude. Cel. My stars Are yet kind to me; for, in a happy minute Be ’t spoke, I ’m not in love, and men shall never Make my heart lean with sighing, nor with tears Draw on my eyes the infamy of spectacles.15 ’T is the chief principle to keep your heart Under your own obedience; jest, but love not. I say my prayers, yet can wear good clothes, And only satisfy my tailor for ’em. I will not lose my privilege.20 Mar. And yet they say your entertainments are, Give me your pardon, madam, to proclaim Yourself a widow, and to get a husband. Cel. As if a lady of my years, some beauty, Left by her husband rich, that had mourn’d for him25 A twelvemonth too, could live so obscure i’ th’ town, That gallants would not know her, and invite Themselves, without her chargeable[4268] proclamations! Then we are worse than citizens: no widow Left wealthy can be thoroughly warm in mourning,30 But some one noble blood, or lusty kindred, Claps in, with his gilt coach, and Flandrian[4269] trotters, And hurries her away to be a countess. Courtiers have spies, and great ones with large titles, Cold in their own estates, would warm themselves35 At a rich city bonfire. Isab. Most true, madam. Cel. No matter for corruption of the blood: Some undone courtier made her husband rich, And this new lord receives it back again. Admit it were my policy, and that40 My entertainments pointed to acquaint me With many suitors, that I might be safe And make the best election, could you blame me? Mar. Madam, ’t is wisdom. Cel. But I should be In my thoughts miserable, to be fond[4270]45 Of leaving the sweet freedom I possess, And court myself into new marriage fetters. I now observe men’s several wits and windings,[4271] And can laugh at their follies. Mar. You have given A most ingenious satisfaction.50 Cel. One thing I ’ll tell you more, and this I give you Worthy your imitation, from my practice: You see me merry, full of song and dancing, Pleasant in language, apt to all delights That crown a public meeting; but you cannot Accuse me of being prodigal of my favours56 To any of my guests. I do not summon, By any wink, a gentleman to follow me To my withdrawing chamber; I hear all Their pleas in court, nor can they boast abroad, And do me justice, after a salute,[4272]61 They have much conversation with my lip. I hold the kissing of my hand a courtesy, And he that loves me, must, upon the strength Of that, expect till I renew his favour.65 Some ladies are so expensive in their graces To those that honour ’em, and so prodigal, That in a little time they have nothing but The naked sin left to reward their servants; Whereas, a thrift in our rewards will keep70 Men long in their devotion, and preserve Ourselves in stock, to encourage those that honour us. Isab. This is an art worthy a lady’s practice. Cel. It takes not from the freedom of our mirth, But seems to advance it, when we can possess Our pleasures with security of our honour;76 And, that preserv’d, I welcome all the joys My fancy can let in. In this I have given The copy of my mind; nor do I blush You understand it. Isab. You have honour’d us.80

Gentlew. Madam, Sir William Scentlove’s come to wait on you. Cel. There ’s one would be a client.—Make excuse For a few minutes. [Exit Gentlewoman.] Mar. One that comes a wooing? Cel. Such a thing he would seem, but in his guiltiness Of little land, his expectation is not85 So valiant as it might be. He wears rich clothes, And feeds with noblemen; to some, I hear, No better than a wanton emissary, Or scout for Venus’ wild fowl; which made tame, He thinks no shame to stand court sentinel,90 In hope of the reversion. Mar. I have heard That some of them are often my lord’s tasters, The first fruits they condition for, and will Exact as fees, for the promotion. Cel. Let them agree; there ’s no account shall lie95 For me among their traffic.

Gentlew. Master Haircut, madam, Is new come in, to tender you his service. Cel. Let him discourse a little with Sir William. Exit Gentlewoman. Mar. What is this gentleman, Master Haircut, madam? I note him very gallant, and much courted100 By gentlemen of quality. Cel. I know not, More than a trim gay man; he has some great office, Sure, by his confident behaviour. He would be entertain’d under the title Of servant[4273] to me, and I must confess,105 He is the sweetest of all men that visit me. Isab. How mean you, madam? Cel. He is full of powder; He will save much in perfume for my chamber, Were he but constant here.—Give ’em access.

Scent. Madam, the humblest of your servants is Exalted to a happiness, if you smile111 Upon my visit. Hair. I must beg your charity Upon my rudeness, madam; I shall give That day up lost to any happiness, When I forget to tender you my service.115 Cel. You practise courtship, gentlemen. Scent. But cannot Find where with more desert to exercise it. What lady ’s this, I pray? Cel. A kinswoman Of mine, Sir William. Scent. I am more her servant. Cel. You came from court, now, I presume? Hair. ’T is, madam,120 The sphere I move in, and my destiny Was kind to place me there, where I enjoy All blessings that a mortal can possess, That lives not in your presence; and I should Fix my ambition, when you would vouchsafe125 Me so much honour, to accept from me An humble entertainment there. Cel. But by What name shall I be known? In what degree Shall I be of kindred to you? Hair. How mean you, madam? Cel. Perhaps you ’ll call me sister, I shall take it130 A special preferment; or it may be I may pass under title of your mistress, If I seem rich, and fair enough, to engage Your confidence to own me. Hair. I would hope— Cel. But ’t is not come to that yet: you will, sir.135 Excuse my mirth. Hair. Sweet madam! Cel. Shall I take Boldness to ask what place you hold in court? ’T is an uncivil curiosity; But you ’ll have mercy to a woman’s question. Hair. My present condition, madam, carries Honour and profit, though not to be nam’d141 With that employment I expect i’ th’ state, Which shall discharge the first maturity Upon your knowledge; until then, I beg You allow a modest silence. Cel. I am charm’d, sir;145 And if you scape ambassador, you cannot Reach a preferment wherein I ’m against you. But where is Sir William Scentlove? Hair. Give him leave To follow his nose, madam, while he hunts In view,—he ’ll soon be at a fault.[4274] Cel. You know him?150 Hair. Know Scentlove? Not a page but can decipher him; The waiting-women know him to a scruple; He ’s called the blister-maker of the town. Cel. What ’s that? Hair. The laundry ladies can resolve you, And you may guess: an arrant epicure,155 As this day lives, born to a pretty wit, A knight, too; but no gentleman. I must Be plain to you;—your ladyship may have Use of this knowledge, but conceal the author. Scent. I kiss your fairest hand. Mar. You make a difference;160 Pray reconcile them to an equal whiteness. Scent. You wound my meaning, lady. Cel. Nay, Sir William Has the art of compliment. Scent. Madam, you honour me ’Bove my desert of language. Cel. Will you please To enrich me with your knowledge of that gentleman?165 Scent. Do you not know him, madam? Cel. What is he? Scent. A camphire ball; you shall know more hereafter; He shall tell you himself, and save my character; Till then,—you see he ’s proud. Cel. One thing, gentlemen, I observe in your behaviour, which is rare170 In two that court one mistress: you preserve A noble friendship; there ’s no gum within Your hearts; you cannot fret,[4275] or show an envy Of one another’s hope; some would not govern Their passions with that temper! Scent. The whole world175 Shall nor divorce our friendship.—Master Haircut! Would I had lives to serve him! He is lost To goodness does not honour him. Hair. My knight! Cel. [Aside.] This is right playing at court shuttlecock.179

Gentlew. Madam, there is a gentleman desires To speak wi’ ye, one Sir Thomas Bornwell. Cel. Bornwell? Gentlew. He says he is a stranger to your ladyship. Scent. I know him. Hair. Your neighbour, madam. Scent. Husband to The lady that so revels in the Strand. Hair. He has good parts, they say, but cannot help185 His lady’s bias. Cel. They have both much fame I’ th’ town, for several merits. Pray admit him. [Exit Gentlewoman.] Hair. [Aside.] What comes he for?

Born. Your pardon, noble lady, that I have Presum’d a stranger to your knowledge,— [Salutes Celestina.] Cel. Sir,190 Your worth was here before you, and your person Cannot be here ungrateful. Born. ’T is the bounty Of your sweet disposition, madam.—Make me Your servant, lady, by her fair example, To favour me. [Offers to salute Isabella, who turns from him. Aside.]—I never knew one turn195 Her cheek to a gentleman that came to kiss her, But she ’d a stinking breath.—Your servant, gentlemen. Will Scentlove, how is ’t? Cel. I am sorry, coz, To accuse you; we in nothing more betray Ourselves to censure of ridiculous pride,200 Than answering a fair salute too rudely. Oh, it shows ill upon a gentlewoman Not to return the modest lip, if she Would have the world believe her breath is not Offensive. Born. Madam, I have business205 With you. Scent. His looks are pleasant. Cel. With me, sir? Born. I hear you have an exc’llent wit, madam; I see you are fair. Cel. The first is but report; And do not trust your eye-sight for the last, ’Cause I presume y’ are mortal, and may err. Hair. He is very gamesome. Born. Y’ have an exc’llent voice,211 (They say you catcht it from a dying swan,) [With] which, join’d to the harmony of your lute, You ravish all mankind. Cel. Ravish mankind? Born. With their consent. Cel. It were the stranger rape;215 But there ’s the less indictment lies against it: And there is hope your little honesties[4276] Cannot be much the worse, for men do rather Believe they had a maidenhead, than put Themselves to th’ rack of memory how long220 ’T is since they left the burden of their innocence. Born. Why, you are bitter, madam! Cel. So is physic; I do not know your constitution. Born. You shall, if ’t please you, madam. Cel. Y’ are too hasty, I must examine what certificate225 You have first, to prefer you. Born. Fine! certificate? Cel. Under your lady’s hand and seal. Born. Go to; I see you are a wag. Cel. But take heed how You trust to ’t. Born. I can love you in my wedlock, As well as that young gallant o’ th’ first hair, Or the knight-bachelor; and can return231 As amorous delight to thy soft bosom. Cel. Your person and your language are both strangers. Born. But may be more familiar; I have those That dare make affidavit for my body.235 Cel. D’ ye mean your surgeon? Born. My surgeon, madam? I know not how you value my abilities, But I dare undertake as much, to express My service to your ladyship, and with As fierce ambition fly to your commands,240 As the most valiant of these lay siege to you. Cel. You dare not, sir. Born. How, madam? Cel. I will justify ’t. You dare not marry me; and I imagine Some here, should I consent, would fetch a priest Out of the fire. Born. I have a wife indeed.245 Cel. And there ’s a statute not repeal’d, I take it. Born. Y’ are in the right; I must confess y’ have hit And bled me in a master vein. Cel. You think I took you on the advantage; use your best Skill at defence, I ’ll come up to your valour,250 And show another work you dare not do: You dare not, sir, be virtuous. Born. I dare, By this fair hand I dare; and ask a pardon, If my rude words offend your innocence, Which, in a form so beautiful, would shine255 To force a blush in them suspected it, And from the rest draw wonder. Hair. I like not Their secret parley; shall I interrupt them? Isab. By no means, sir. Scent. Sir Thomas was not wont To show so much a courtier. Mar. He cannot260 Be prejudicial to you; suspect not Your own deserts so much; he ’s married. Born. I have other business, madam. You keep music: I came to try how you can dance. Cel. You did?—[Aside.] I ’ll try his humour out of breath.265 Although I boast no cunning, sir, in revels, If you desire to show your art that way, I can wait on you. Born. You much honour me; Nay, all must join to make a harmony. They dance. Born. I have nothing now, madam, but to beseech,270 After a pardon for my boldness, you Would give occasion to pay my gratitude. I have a house will be much honoured, If you vouchsafe your presence; and a wife Desires to present herself your servant.275 I came with the ambition to invite you, Deny me not; your person you shall trust On fair security. Cel. Sir, although I use not This freedom with a stranger, you shall have No cause to hold me obstinate. Born. You grace me.280 Sir William Scentlove— Hair. I must take my leave. You will excuse me, madam; court attendances— Cel. By any means. Born. Ladies, you will vouchsafe Your company? Isab. We wait upon you, sir. Exeunt.