Is Jeremy come!
O yes; you may leave your tools;
We were deceived, he says.
He has had the keys;
And the door has been shut these three weeks.
Like enough.
Peace, and get hence, you changelings.
Aside. Surly come!
And Mammon made acquainted! They’ll tell all.
How shall I beat them off? What shall I do?
Nothing’s more wretched than a guilty conscience.
No, sir, he was a great physician. This,
It was no bawdyhouse, but a mere chancel!
You knew the lord and his sister.
Nay, good Surly.—
The happy word, Be Rich—
Play not the tyrant.—
“Should be today pronounced to all your friends.”
And where be your andirons now? And your brass pots,
That should have been golden flagons, and great wedges?
Let me but breathe. What, they have shut their doors,
Methinks!
Ay, now ’tis holiday with them.
Rogues,
He and Surly knock.
Cozeners, imposters, bawds!
What mean you, sir?
To enter if we can.
Another man’s house!
Here is the owner, sir: turn you to him,
And speak your business.
Are you, sir, the owner?
Yes, sir.
And are those knaves within your cheaters!
What knaves, what cheaters?
Subtle and his Lungs.
The gentleman is distracted, sir! No lungs,
Nor lights have been seen here these three weeks, sir,
Within these doors, upon my word.
Your word,
Groom arrogant!
Yes, sir, I am the housekeeper,
And know the keys have not been out of my hands.
This is a new Face.
You do mistake the house, sir:
What sign was’t at?
You rascal! This is one
Of the confederacy. Come, let’s get officers,
And force the door.
’Pray you stay, gentlemen.
No, sir, we’ll come with warrant.
Ay, and then
We shall have your doors open.
What means this?
I cannot tell, sir.
These are two of the gallants
That we do think we saw.
Two of the fools!
Your talk as idly as they. Good faith, sir,
I think the moon has crazed ’em all.—
Aside.
O me,
The angry boy come too! He’ll make a noise,
And ne’er away till he have betrayed us all.
Knocking.
What rogues, bawds, slaves, you’ll open the door, anon!
Punk, cockatrice, my sister! By this light
I’ll fetch the marshal to you. You are a whore
To keep your castle—
Who would you speak with, sir?
The bawdy Doctor, and the cozening Captain,
And puss my sister.
This is something, sure.
Upon my trust, the doors were never open, sir.
I have heard all their tricks told me twice over,
By the fat knight and the lean gentleman.
Here comes another.
Ananias too!
And his pastor!
Beating at the door.
The doors are shut against us.
Come forth, you seed of sulphur, sons of fire!
Your stench it is broke forth; abomination
Is in the house.
Ay, my sister’s there.
The place,
It is become a cage of unclean birds.
Yes, I will fetch the scavenger, and the constable.
You shall do well.
We’ll join to weed them out.
You will not come then, punk devise, my sister!
Call her not sister; she’s a harlot verily.
I’ll raise the street.
Good gentlemen, a word.
Satan avoid, and hinder not our zeal!
The world’s turned Bedlam.
These are all broke loose,
Out of St. Katherine’s, where they use to keep
The better sort of mad-folks.
All these persons
We saw go in and out here.
Yes, indeed, sir.
These were the parties.
Peace, you drunkards! Sir,
I wonder at it: please you to give me leave
To touch the door, I’ll try an the lock be changed.
It mazes me!
Goes to the door. Good faith, sir, I believe
There’s no such thing: ’tis all deceptio visus.—
Aside.
Would I could get him away.
Within. Master Captain! Master Doctor!
Who’s that?
Aside. Our clerk within, that I forgot!
I know not, sir.
Within. For God’s sake, when will her Grace be at leisure?
Ha!
Illusions, some spirit o’ the air—
Aside. His gag is melted,
And now he sets out the throat.
Within. I am almost stifled—
Aside. Would you were altogether.
’Tis in the house.
Ha! List.
Believe it, sir, in the air.
Peace, you.
Within. Mine aunt’s Grace does not use me well.
Within. You fool,
Peace, you’ll mar all.
Speaks through the keyhole, while Lovewit advances to the door unobserved.
Or you will else, you rogue.
O, is it so? Then you converse with spirits!—
Come, sir. No more of your tricks, good Jeremy.
The truth, the shortest way.
Dismiss this rabble, sir.—
Aside. What shall I do? I am catched.
Good neighbours,
I thank you all. You may depart.
—Come, sir,
You know that I am an indulgent master;
And therefore conceal nothing. What’s your medicine,
To draw so many several sorts of wild fowl?
Sir, you were wont to affect mirth and wit—
But here’s no place to talk on’t in the street.
Give me but leave to make the best of my fortune,
And only pardon me the abuse of your house:
It’s all I beg. I’ll help you to a widow,
In recompence, that you shall give me thanks for,
Will make you seven years younger, and a rich one.
’Tis but your putting on a Spanish cloak:
I have her within. You need not fear the house;
It was not visited.
But by me, who came
Sooner than you expected.
It is true, sir.
’Pray you forgive me.
Well: let’s see your widow.
Scene II
A room in
