Act 2 — SCENE II.

Before Allwit’s house.^[45]

Enter Allwit.

Allwit. I'll go bid gossips presently myself,

That’s all the work I'll do; nor need I stir,

29But 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 charewomen, besides maids and neighbours' 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-ey’d 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:

30Let’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, 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 rumour 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^[46] the eyes of shame.

Allwit. I'm studying who to get for godmother,

Suitable to your worship. Now I ha' thought on’t.

31Sir Wal. 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. [Aside.]—Davy Dahanna!^[47]

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.^[48]

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

32When the first course goes in? By the mass, promoters;

’Tis so, I hold my life; and planted there

T' arrest the dead corps^[49] 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 sweet-breads,

And lard their whores with lamb-stones: what their golls^[50]

Can clutch goes presently to their Molls and Dolls:

The bawds will be so fat with what they earn,

Their chins will hang like udders by Easter-eve,

And, being stroak’d, 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.

First Pro. Good; your will, sir?

Allwit. Pray, tell me where one dwells that kills this Lent?

First Pro. How? kills?—Come hither, Dick; a bird, a bird!

Sec. Pro. What is’t that you would have?

Allwit. Faith, any flesh;

But I long especially for veal and green-sauce.

First Pro. Green goose, you shall be sauc’d.

[Aside.

Allwit. I've half a scornful stomach,

No fish will be admitted.

33First Pro. Not this Lent, sir?

Allwit. Lent? what cares colon^[51] here for Lent?

First Pro. You say well, sir;

Good reason that the colon of a gentleman,

As you were lately pleas’d to term your worship['s], sir,

Should be fulfill’d 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.

Sec. 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.

Sec. Pro. Either will serve:

This butcher shall kiss Newgate, ’less he turn up

The bottom of the pocket of his apron.— [Aside.

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 foutra for^[52] promoters! [Exit.

First 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.

Sec. Pro. Hush’t, stand close!

Man. I have ’scap’d well thus far; they say the knaves

Are wondrous hot and busy.

34First Pro. By your leave, sir,

We must see what you have under your cloak there.

Man. Have? I have nothing.

First 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.

Sec. Pro. O, we love that sight well!

You cannot please us better. What, do you gull us?

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 cozen’d me and five of my wife’s kindred

Of a good dinner; we must make it up now

With herrings and milk-pottage. [Exit.

First Pro. ’Tis all veal.

Sec. Pro. All veal?

Pox, the worse luck! I promis’d faithfully

To send this morning a fat quarter of lamb

To a kind gentlewoman in Turnbull Street^[53]

That longs, and how I'm crost!

First Pro. Let us share this, and see what hap comes next then.

Sec. Pro. Agreed. Stand close again; another booty.

Enter Man with a basket.

What’s he?

First Pro. Sir, by your favour.

Man. Meaning me, sir?

35First 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.

First Pro. Go, go, we see thee not; away, keep close!—

Heart, let him pass! thou’lt never have the wit

To know our benefactors.

Sec. Pro. I have forgot him.

First Pro. ’Tis master Beggarland’s man, the wealthy merchant,

That is in fee with us.

Sec. Pro. Now I've a feeling of him. [Exit Man.

First Pro. You know he purchas’d the whole Lent together,

Gave us ten groats a-piece on Ash-Wednesday.

Sec. Pro. True, true.

First Pro. A wench!

Sec. Pro. Why, then, stand close indeed.

Enter Country Girl with a basket.

C. Girl. Women had need of wit, if they’ll shift here,

And she that hath wit may shift anywhere. [Aside.

First Pro. Look, look! poor fool, sh’as left the rump uncover’d too,

More to betray her! this is like a murderer

That will outface the deed with a bloody band.^[54]

Sec. Pro. What time of the year is’t, sister?

C. Girl. O sweet gentlemen!

I'm a poor servant, let me go.

First Pro. You shall, wench,

But this must stay with us.

C. Girl. O you undo me, sir!

36’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 shew you

A true authority from the higher powers,

And I'll run every foot.

Sec. 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?

First Pro. Now by this light I will.

C. Girl. What say you, gentleman?

Sec. Pro. What a strange wench ’tis!—

Would we might perish else.

C. Girl. Nay, then I run, sir.

[Leaves the basket, and exit.

First Pro. And ne’er return, I hope.

Sec. Pro. A politic baggage! she makes us swear to keep it:

I prithee look what market she hath made.

First Pro. Imprimis, sir, a good fat loin of mutton.

[Taking out a loin of mutton.

What comes next under this cloth? now for a quarter

Of lamb.

Sec. Pro. Not, for a shoulder of mutton.

First Pro. Done!

Sec. Pro. Why, done, sir!

First Pro. By the mass, I feel I've lost;

’Tis of more weight, i’faith.

Sec. Pro. Some loin of veal?

First Pro. No, faith, here’s a lamb’s head, I feel that plainly;

Why, [I'll] yet win my wager.

Sec. Pro. Ha!

37First Pro. ’Swounds, what’s here!

[Taking out a child.

Sec. Pro. A child!

First Pro. A pox of all dissembling cunning whores!

Sec. Pro. Here’s an unlucky breakfast!

First Pro. What shall’s do?

Sec. Pro. The quean made us swear to keep it too.

First Pro. We might leave it else.

Sec. Pro. Villanous strange!

'Life, had she none to gull but poor promoters,

That watch hard for a living?

First Pro. Half our gettings

Must run in sugar-sops and nurses' wages now,

Besides many a pound of soap and tallow;

We’ve need to get loins of mutton still, to save

Suet to change for candles.

Sec. Pro. Nothing mads me

But this was a lamb’s head with you; you felt it:

She has made calves' heads of us.

First Pro. Prithee, no more on’t;

There’s time to get it up; it is not come

To Mid-Lent Sunday yet.

Sec. Pro. I am so angry,

I'll watch no more to-day.

First Pro. Faith, nor I neither.

Sec. Pro. Why, then, I'll make a motion.

First Pro. Well, what is’t?

Sec. Pro. Let’s e’en go to the Checker at Queenhive,^[55]

And roast the loin of mutton till young flood;

Then send the child to Branford.^[56] [Exeunt.

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