A street.
Enter Touchwood Senior and his Wife.
[MISTRESS TOUCHWOOD]
‘Twill be so tedious, sir, to live from you,
But that necessity must be obeyed.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
I would it might not, wife; the tediousness
Will be the most part mine, that understand
The blessings I have in thee; so to part,
That drives the torment to a knowing heart;
But as thou sayst, we must give way to need
And live awhile asunder, our desires
Are both too fruitful for our barren fortunes.
How adverse runs the destiny of some creatures —
Some only can get riches and no children,
We only can get children and no riches;
Then ’tis the [prudent’st] part to check our wills,
And till our state rise, make our bloods lie still.
Life, every year a child, and some years two,
Besides drinkings abroad, that’s never reckoned;
This gear will not hold out.
[MISTRESS TOUCHWOOD]
Sir, for a time, I’ll take the courtesy of my uncle’s house
If you be pleased to like on’t, till prosperity
Look with a friendly eye upon our states.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
Honest wife, I thank thee; I ne’er knew
The perfect treasure thou brought’st with thee more
Than at this instant minute. A man’s happy
When he’s at poorest that has matched his soul
As rightly as his body. Had I married
A sensual fool now, as ’tis hard to ‘scape it
‘Mongst gentlewomen of our time, she would ha’ hanged
About my neck, and never left her hold
Till she had kissed me into wanton businesses,
Which at the waking of my better judgment
I should have cursed most bitterly,
And laid a thicker vengeance on my act
Than misery of the birth, which were enough
If it were born to greatness, whereas mine
Is sure of beggary, though it were got in wine.
Fulness of joy showeth the goodness in thee,
Thou art a matchless wife; farewell, my joy.
[MISTRESS TOUCHWOOD]
I shall not want your sight?
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
I’ll see thee often,
Talk in mirth, and play at kisses with thee,
Anything, wench, but what may beget beggars;
There I give o’er the set, throw down the cards,
And dare not take them up.
[MISTRESS TOUCHWOOD]
Your will be mine, sir.
Exit.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
This does not only make her honesty perfect,
But her discretion, and approves her judgment.
Had her desire[s] been wanton, they’d been blameless
In being lawful ever, but of all creatures
I hold that wife a most unmatched treasure
That can unto her fortunes fix her pleasure,
And not unto her blood — this is like wedlock;
The feast of marriage is not lust but love,
And care of the estate. When I please blood,
Merely I sing, and suck out others’; then,
’Tis many a wise man’s fault; but of all men
I am the most unfortunate in that game
That ever pleased both genders, I ne’er played yet
Under a bastard; the poor wenches curse me
To the pit where’er I come; they were ne’er served so,
But used to have more words than one to a bargain.
I have such a fatal finger in such business
I must forth with’t, chiefly for country wenches,
For every harvest I shall hinder hay-making;
Enter a Wench with a child.
I had no less than seven lay in last progress,
Within three weeks of one another’s time.
WENCH
O Snaphance, have I found you?
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
How Snaphance?
WENCH
Do you see your workmanship?
Nay, turn not from it, nor offer to escape, for if you do,
I’ll cry it through the streets, and follow you.
Your name may well be called Touchwood, a pox on you,
You do but touch and take; thou hast undone me;
I was a maid before, I can bring a certificate for it,
From both the churchwardens.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
I’ll have the parson’s hand, too, or I’ll not yield to’t.
WENCH
Thou shalt have more, thou villain; nothing grieves me, but Ellen, my poor cousin in Derbyshire, thou hast cracked her marriage quite; she’ll have a bout with thee.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
Faith, when she will I’ll have a bout with her.
WENCH
A law bout, sir, I mean.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
True, lawyers use such bouts as other men do,
And if that be all thy grief, I’ll tender her a husband;
I keep of purpose two or three gulls in pickle
To eat such mutton with, and she shall choose one.
Do but in courtesy, faith, wench, excuse me
Of this half yard of flesh, in which I think it wants
A nail or two.
WENCH
No, thou shalt find, villain
It hath right shape, and all the nails it should have.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
Faith, I am poor; do a charitable deed, wench,
I am a younger brother, and have nothing.
WENCH
Nothing! Thou hast too much, thou lying villain
Unless thou wert more thankful.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
I have no dwelling,
I brake up house but this morning; pray thee, pity me,
I am a good fellow, faith, have been too kind
To people of your gender; if I ha’t
Without my belly, none of your sex shall want it.
[Aside] That word has been of force to move a woman. —
There’s tricks enough to rid thy hand on’t, wench,
Some rich man’s porch, tomorrow before day,
Or else anon i’ the evening, twenty devices;
Here’s all I have, i’faith, take purse and all.
[Aside] And would I were rid of all the ware i’ the shop so.
WENCH
Where I find manly dealings I am pitiful,
This shall not trouble you.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
And I protest, wench,
The next I’ll keep myself.
WENCH
Soft, let it be got first.
This is the fifth; if e’er I venture more
Where I now go for a maid, may I ride for a whore.
Exit.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
What shift she’ll make now with this piece of flesh
In this strict time of Lent, I cannot imagine;
Flesh dare not peep abroad now; I have known
This city now above this seven years,
But I protest in better state of government
I never knew it yet, nor ever heard of;
There has been more religious wholesome laws
In the half circle of a year erected
For common good, than memory ever knew of,
Enter Sir Oliver Kix and his Lady.
Setting apart corruption of promoters,
And other poisonous officers that infect
And with a venomous breath taint every goodness.
[LADY KIX]
O, that e’er I was begot, or bred, or born.
SIR OLIVER
Be content, sweet wife.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
What’s here to do now?
I hold my life she’s in deep passion
For the imprisonment of veal and mutton
Now kept in garrets, weeps for some calf’s head now;
Methinks her husband’s head might serve with bacon.
Enter Touchwood Junior.
[LADY KIX]
Hist.
SIR OLIVER
Patience, sweet wife.
TOUCHWOOD JUNIOR
Brother, I have sought you strangely.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
Why, what’s the business?
TOUCHWOOD JUNIOR
With all speed thou canst,
Procure a licence for me.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
How, a licence?
TOUCHWOOD JUNIOR
Cud’s foot, she’s lost else, I shall miss her ever.
TOUCHWOOD SENIOR
Nay, sure thou shalt not miss so fair a mark
For thirteen shillings fourpence.
TOUCHWOOD JUNIOR
Thanks by hundreds.
Exit [with Touchwood Senior].
SIR OLIVER
Nay, pray thee cease, I’ll be at more cost yet,
Thou know’st we are rich enough.
[LADY KIX]
All but in blessings,
And there the beggar goes beyond us. O, O, O,
To be seven years a wife and not a child, O, not a child!
SIR OLIVER
Sweet wife, have patience.
[LADY KIX]
Can any woman have a greater cut?
SIR OLIVER
I know ’tis great, but what of that, wife?
I cannot do withal; there’s things making
By thine own doctor’s advice at ‘pothecary’s;
I spare for nothing, wife, no, if the price
Were forty marks a spoonful,
I’d give a thousand pound to purchase fruitfulness;
’Tis but bating so many good works
In the erecting of Bridewells and spital-houses,
And so fetch it up again, for having none
I mean to make good deeds my children.
[LADY KIX]
Give me but those good deeds, and I’ll find children.
SIR OLIVER
Hang thee, thou hast had too many.
[LADY KIX]
Thou li’st, brevity.
SIR OLIVER
O horrible, dar’st thou call me brevity?
Dar’st thou be so short with me?
[LADY KIX]
Thou deservest worse.
Think but upon the goodly lands and livings
That’s kept back through want on’t.
SIR OLIVER
Talk not on’t, pray thee,
Thou’lt make me play the woman and weep too.
[LADY KIX]
’Tis our dry barrenness puffs up Sir Walter —
None gets by your not-getting, but that knight;
He’s made by th’ means, and fats his fortune shortly
In a great dowry with a goldsmith’s daughter.
SIR OLIVER
They may all be deceived,
Be but you patient, wife.
[LADY KIX]
I have suffered a long time.
SIR OLIVER
Suffer thy heart out; a pox suffer thee!
[LADY KIX]
Nay, thee, thou desertless slave!
SIR OLIVER
Come, come, I ha’ done;
You’ll to the gossiping of Mr. Allwit’s child?
[LADY KIX]
Yes, to my much joy;
Everyone gets before me — there’s my sister
Was married but at Bartholomew eve last,
And she can have two children at a birth;
O, one of them, one of them would ha’ served my turn.
SIR OLIVER
Sorrow consume thee, thou art still crossing me,
And know’st my nature.
Enter a Maid.
MAID
[Aside] O mistress, weeping or railing,
That’s our house harmony.
[LADY KIX]
What sayst, Jugg?
MAID
The sweetest news.
[LADY KIX]
What is’t, wench?
MAID
Throw down your doctor’s drugs,
They’re all but heretics; I bring certain remedy
That has been taught, and proved, and never failed.
SIR OLIVER
O that, that, that or nothing.
MAID
There’s a gentleman,
I haply have his name, too, that has got
Nine children by one water that he useth;
It never misses, they come so fast upon him,
He was fain to give it over.
[LADY KIX]
His name, sweet Jugg?
MAID
One Mr. Touchwood, a fine gentleman,
But run behind hand much with getting children.
SIR OLIVER
Is’t possible?
MAID
Why, sir, he’ll undertake
Using that water, within fifteen year,
For all your wealth, to make you a poor man,
You shall so swarm with children.
SIR OLIVER
I’ll venture that, i’faith.
[LADY KIX]
That shall you, husband.
MAID
But I must tell you first, he’s very dear.
SIR OLIVER
No matter, what serves wealth for?
[LADY KIX]
True, sweet husband,
There’s land to come; put case his water stands me
In some five hundred pound a pint,
‘Twill fetch a thousand, and a Kersten soul,
And that’s worth all, sweet husband.
I’ll about it.
[Exeunt.]