A Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. III | Page 4

know him: for tis a very forcible word in troth, and yet he forces
it too much by his favour; mary no more then he does all the rest of his
wordes; with whose multiplicity often times he travailes himselfe out of
all good company.
Iack. Like enough; he travaild for nothing else.
Will. But what qualities haunt Sir Gyles Goosecappe now Sir.
Bul. Sir Gyles Goosecap has always a deathes head (as it were) in his
mouth, for his onely one reason for everything is, because we are all
mortall; and therefore he is generally cald the mortall Knight; then hath
he another pretty phrase too, and that is, he will "tickle the vanity ant"
still in everything; and this is your Summa totalis of both their virtues.
Ia. Tis enough, tis enough, as long as they have land enough, but now
muster your third person afore us I beseech you.
Bul. The third person and second Knight, blunt Sir _Cutt Rudesby_, is
indeed blunt at a sharpe wit, and sharpe at a blunt wit; a good bustling
Gallant, talkes well at Rovers; he is two parts souldier; as slovenlie as a

Switzer, and somewhat like one in face too; for he weares a bush beard,
will dead a Cannan shot better then a wool-packe: he will come into the
presence like yor Frenchman in foule bootes, and dares eat Garlike as a
preparative to his Courtship. You shall know more of him hereafter; but,
good wags, let me winne you now for the Geographicall parts of your
Ladies in requitall.
Will. That you shall Sir, and the Hydrographicall too and you will; first
my Lady the widowe, and Countes _Eugenia_, is in earnest, a most
worthy Lady, and indeede can doe more than a thousand other Ladies
can doe I can tell you.
Bul. What's that I pray thee?
Ia. Mary Sir, he meanes she can doe more than sleepe, and eate, and
drinke; and play at noddy[3], and helpe to make hir selfe ready[4].
Bul. Can she so?
Will. She is the best scholler of any woman but one[5] in England; she
is wise and vertuous.
Ia. Nay she has one strange quality for a woman besides, tho these be
strange enough that he has rekoned.
Bul. For Gods sake whats that?
Ia. She can love reasonable constantly, for she loved her husband only,
almost a whole yeere together.
Bul. Thats strange indeed, but what is your faire Lady Sir?
Ia. My Lady Sir, the Lady _Hippolita_--
Will. That is as chast as ever was Hippolitus.
Ia. (True, my prety _Parenthesis_) is halfe a maid, halfe a wife, and
halfe a widdow.

Bul. Strange tale to tell; how canst thou make this good, my good
Assumpsit.
Ia. Thus Sir: she was betroathed to a gallant young gentleman that
loude hir with such passion, and admiration that he never thought he
could be so blessed as to enjoy her in full marriage, till the minister was
marrying them; and even then when he was saying I Charles take thee
Hippolita with extreame joy, he began to looke pale, then going
forwards saying, to my wedded wife, he lookt paler, and, then
pronouncing, for richer for poorer as long as we both shall live, he
lookt extreame pale. Now, sir, when she comes to speake her parte, and
said, I Hippolyta take thee _Charles_, he began to faint for joy, then
saying to my wedded husband, he began to sinke, but then going forth
too, for better for worse, he could stand no longer, but with very
conceit, it seemd, that she whom he tendred as the best of all things,
should pronounce the worst, and for his sake too, he suncke down right,
and died sodenly: And thus being halfe married, and her halfe husband
wholy dead, I hope I may with discretion affirme her, halfe a maide,
halfe a wife, and halfe a widdowe: do ye conceive me Sir?
Bul. O Lord Sir, I devoure you quicke; and now Sir I beseech you open
unto me your tother Lady, what is shee?
Will. Ile answere for her, because I know her Ladiship to be a perfect
maide indeed.
Bul. How canst thou know that?
Will. Passing perfectly I warrant ye.
Ia. By measuring her necke twice, and trying if it will come about hir
forehead, and slip over her nose?
Will. No Sir no, by a rule that will not slip so I warrant you, which for
her honours sake I will let slip unto you. Gods so _Iack_, I thinke they
have supt.
Ia. Bir Lady we have waited well the while.

Will. Well though they have lost their attendance, let not us lose our
supper, Iack.
Ia. I doe not meane it; come Sir you shall goe in,