Beaumont and Fletcher's Works. Volume 9. Beaumont Francis

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      Tib. I have had many a combat with a tall wench;

      But never was disarm'd before.

      Ros. And now hear comfort,

      Your wants shall be supply'd, and though it be

      A debt women may challenge to be sued to,

      Especially from such they may command;

      We give up to you that power, and therefore

      Freely each make his choice.

      Fran. Then here I fix.

      Mor. Nay, she is mine: I eyed her first.

      Lam. This mine.

      Tib. Stay good rascals;

      You are too forward, sir Gallant,

      You are not giving order to a Taylor

      For the fashion of a new suit;

      Nor are you in your warehouse, master Merchant,

      Stand back, and give your betters leave: your betters;

      And grumble not: if ye do, as I love meat

      I will so swinge the salt itch out on you.

      Captain, Master, and the rest of us,

      That are brothers, and good fellows: we have been

      Too late by the ears: and yet smart for our follies;

      To end therefore all future emulation: if you please,

      To trust to my election, you shall say,

      I am not partial to my self; I doubt not

      Give content to all.

      All. Agreed, agreed.

      Tib. Then but observe, how learned and discreetly,

      I will proceed, and as a skilful Doctor

      In all the quirks belonging to the game;

      Read over your complexions: for you Captain

      Being first in place, and therefore first to be serv'd,

      I give my judgment thus, for your aspect,

      Y'are much inclin'd to melancholy: and that tells me,

      The sullen Saturne had predominance

      At your nativity, a malignant Planet,

      And if not qualified by a sweet conjunction

      Of a soft and ruddy wench, born under Venus,

      It may prove fatal: therefore to your armes,

      I give this rose-cheekt Virgin.

      Cla. To my wish;

      Till now I never was happy.

      Amin. Nor I accurs'd.

      Tib. Master, you are old;

      Yet love the game, that I perceive too,

      And if not well spurr'd up, you may prove rusty;

      Therefore to help ye here's a Bradamanta,

      Or I am cosen'd in my calculation.

      Cro. A poor old man alloted to my share.

      Ti. Thou wouldst have two;

      Nay, I think twenty: but fear not wench,

      Though he be old he's tough: look on's making,

      Hee'll not fail I warrant thee.

      Ros. A merry fellow,

      And were not man a creature I detest,

      I could indure his company.

      Ti. Here's a fair heard of Does before me,

      And now for a barren one:

      For, though I like the sport: I do not love

      To Father children: like the Grand Signior,

      Thus I walk in my Seraglio,

      And view 'em as I pass: then draw I forth

      My handkercher, and having made my choice,

      I thus bestow it.

      Ros. On me.

      Ti. On you: now my choice is made;

      To it you hungry Rascals.

      Alb. Excellent.

      Amin. As I love goodness,

      It makes me smile i'th' height of all my fears.

      Cla. What a strong contention you may behold

      Between my Mothers mirth and anger.

      Tib. Nay, no coyness: be Mistriss of your word,

      I must, and will enjoy you.

      Ros. Be advis'd fool: alas I am old;

      How canst thou hope content from one that's fifty.

      Ti. Never talk on't;

      I have known good ones at threescore and upwards;

      Besides the weathers hot: and men

      That have experience, fear Fevers:

      A temperate diet is the onely Physick,

      Your Julips, nor Guajacum prunello's,

      Camphire pills, nor Goord-water,

      Come not near your old Woman;

      Youthful stomachs are still craving,

      Though there be nothing left to stop their mouths with;

      And believe me I am no frequent giver of those bounties:

      Laugh on: laugh on: good Gentlemen do,

      I shall make holiday and sleep, when you

      Dig in the mines till your hearts ake.

      Ros. A mad fellow;

      [Well,] Sir, I'll give you hearing: and as I like

      Your wooing, and discourse: but I must tell ye Sir,

      That rich Widows look for great sums in present,

      Or assurances of ample Joynters.

      Ti. That to me is easie,

      For instantly I'll do it, hear me comrades.

      Alb. What say'st thou Tibalt?

      Tib. Why, that to woo a Wench with empty hands

      Is no good Heraldry, therefore let's to the gold,

      And share it equally: 'twill speak for us

      More than a thousand complements or cringes,

      Ditties stolen from Petrarch, or Discourse from Ovid,

      Besides, 'twill beget us respect,

      And if ever fortune friend us with a Barque,

      Largely supply us with all provision.

      Alb. Well advis'd, defer it not.

      Ti. Are ye all contented.

      All. We are!

      Ti. Lets away then,

      Strait wee'll return,