A Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. III | Page 8

wilt not now revive the sociable mirth of thy sweet disposition? wilt thou shine in the World anew? and make those that have sleighted thy love with the Austeritie of thy knowledge, dote on thee againe with thy commanding shaft of their humours?
Cla. Alas, my Lord, they are all farre out of my aime; and only to fit my selfe a little better to your friendshippe, have I given these wilfull raynes to my affections.
Mom. And yfaith is my sower friend to all worldly desires ouer taken with the hart of the World, Love? I shall be monstrous proud now, to heare shees every way a most rare woman, that I know thy spirit, and judgement hath chosen; is she wise? is she noble? is she capable of thy vertues? will she kisse this forehead with judiciall lipps where somuch judgement and vertue deserves it? Come brother Twin, be short, I charge you, and name me the woman.
Cla. Since your Lordship will shorten the length of my follies relation, the woman that I so passionately love, is no worse Lady then your owne Neece, the too worthy Countesse Eugenia.
Mom. Why so, so, so, you are a worthy friend, are you not, to conceale this love-mine in your head, and would not open it to your hart? now beshrow my hart, if my hart danse not for joy, tho my heeles do not; and they doe not, because I will not set that at my heeles that my friend sets at his heart? friend, and Nephews both? nephew is a far inferior title to friend I confesse, but I will preferre thee backwards (as many friends doe) and leave their friends woorse then they found them.
Cla. But, my noble Lord, it is almost a prodegie, that I being onely a poore Gentleman, and farre short of that state and wealth that a Ladie of her greatnesse in both will expect in her husband--
Mom. Hold thy doubt friend, never feare any woman, unlesse thyselfe be made of straw, or some such drie matter, and she of lightning. Audacitie prospers above probability in all Worldly matters. Dost not thou know that Fortune governes them without order, and therefore reason the mother of order is none of her counsaile? why should a man desiring to aspire an unreasonable creature, which is a woman, seeke her fruition by reasonable meanes? because thy selfe binds upon reason, wilt thou looke for congruity in a woman? why? there is not one woman amongst one thousand, but will speake false _Latine_, and breake Priscians head. Attempt nothing that you may with great reason doubt of and out of doubt you shall obtaine nothing. I tell thee, friend, the eminent confidence of strong spirits is the onely witch-craft of this World, Spirits wrastling with spirits as bodies with bodies: this were enough to make thee hope well, if she were one of these painted communities, that are ravisht with Coaches, and upper hands,[13] and brave men of durt: but thou knowest friend shees a good scholler, and like enough to bite at the rightest reason, and reason evermore _Ad optima hortatur_: to like that which is best, not that which is bravest, or rightest, or greatest, and so consequently worst. But prove what shee can, wee will turne her, and winde her, and make her so plyant, that we will drawe her thorugh a wedding ring yfaith.
Cla. Would to God we might, my Lord.
Mom. He warrant thee, friend.
Enter Messenger.
Mes. Here is Mistris Wynnifred from my Lady Eugenia desires to speake with your Lordshippe.
Mom. Marrie, enter, Mistris _Wynnifred_, even here I pray thee;--from the Lady _Eugenia_, doe you heare, friend?
Cla. Very easily on that side, my Lord.
Mom. Let me feele. Does not thy heart pant apace? by my hart, well labor'd _Cupid_, the field is yours, sir. God! and upon a very honourable composition. I am sent for now I am sure, and must even trusse, and to her.
Enter Wynnifred.
Witty Mistris _Wynnifred_, nay come neere, woman. I am sure this Gentleman thinkes his Chamber the sweeter for your deare presence.
Wyn. My absence shall thanke him, my Lord.
Mom. What, rude? Mistris _Wynnifred_? nay faith you shall come to him, and kisse him, for his kindenesse.
Wyn. Nay good, my Lord, I'le never goe to the market for that ware, I can have it brought home to my Dore.
Mom. O _Wynnifred_, a man may know by the market-folkes how the market goes.
Wyn. So you may, my Lord, but I know few Lords that thinke scorne to go to that market themselves.
Mom. To goe to it _Wynnifred_? nay to ride to it yfaith.
Wyn. Thats more then I know my Lord.
Mom. Youle not beleeve it till you are then a horsebacke, will ye?
Wyn. Come, come, I am sent of a message to you, will you