Time, place, or opportunity could tempt
To injure such a husband.
Even for his sake, to be for ever young;
And he, for yours, to have his youth renew'd:
So mutual is your true conjugal love.
Yet had the fates so pleas'd-
Wife. I know your meaning.
It was once voic'd, that we two should have matcht;
The world so thought and many tongues so spake ;
But heaven hath now dispos'd us other ways:
And being as it is (a thing in me
Which I protest was never wisht nor sought)
Now done, I not repent it.
Of all the treasures of my hopes and love
You were th' Exchequer, they were stored in you;
And had not my unfortunate Travel crost them,
They had been here reserv'd still.
I should have been your trusty Treasurer.
Ger. However, let us love still, I entreat;
That, neighbourhood and breeding will allow ;
So much, the laws divine and human both
Twixt brother and a sister will approve :
Heaven then forbid that they should limit us
Wish well to one another.
Wife. If they should not,
We might proclaim they were not charitable,
Which were a deadly sin but to conceive.
Ger. Will you resolve me one thing?
That in my bosom hath a second place,
Next my dear husband.
Ger. That's the thing I crave,
And only that; to have a place next him.
Wife. Presume on that already, but perhaps
You mean to stretch it further.
Your husband's old; to whom my soul does wish
A Nestor's age, so much he merits from me;
Yet if (as proof and nature daily teach,
Men cannot always live, especially
Such as are old and crazed ;) he be call'd hence,
Fairly, in full maturity of time,
And we two be reserv'd to after life;
Will you confer your
Wife. You ask the thing I was about to beg;
Your tongue hath spoke mine own thoughts.
Ger. Tis enough, that word
Alone instates me happy: now, so please you,
We will divide; you to your private chamber,
I to find out my friend.
Wife. You are now my brother;
But then, my second husband.
Young Geraldine absents himself from the House of Mr. Wincott longer than is "usual to him. The old Gentleman sends for him, to find out the reason.-He pleads his Father's commands.
Wincott. Geraldine.
Ger. With due acknowledgment
Of all your more than many courtesies :
You have been my second father, and your wife
My noble and chaste mistress; all your servants
At my command; and this your bounteous table
As free and common as my father's house:
Neither 'gainst any or the least of these
Can I commence just quarrel.
Win. What might then be
The cause of this constraint, in thus absenting
Yourself from such as love you?
I will propose some few: the care I have
Of your (as yet unblemished) renown ;
The untoucht honour of your virtuous wife;
And (which I value least, yet dearly too)
My own fair reputation.
Win. How can these
In any way be question'd?
Ger. Oh, dear sir,
Bad tongues have been too busy with us all;
Of which I never yet had time to think,
But with sad thoughts and griefs unspeakable.
It hath been whisper'd by some wicked ones,
But loudly thunder'd in my father's ears,
By some that have malign'd our happiness;
(Heaven, if it can brook slander, pardon them)
That this my customary coming hither,
Hath been to base and sordid purposes;
To wrong your bed, injure her chastity,
And be mine own undoer: which, how false
Win. As heaven is true, I know it
Ger. Now this calumny
Arriving first unto my father's ears,
His easy nature was induced to think
That these things might perhaps be possible:
I answer'd him, as I would do to heaven,
And clear'd myself in his suspicious thoughts
As truly, as the high all-knowing judge
Shall of these stains acquit me; which are meerly
Aspersions and untruths. The good old man
Possest with my sincerity, and yet careful
Of your renown, her honour, and my fame,
To stop the worst that scandal could inflict,
And to prevent false rumours, charges me,
The cause remov'd, to take away the effect;
Which only could be, to forbear your house :
And this upon his blessing. You hear all.
Win. And I of all acquit you: this your absence,
With which my
love most cavill'd, orators
In your behalf. Had such things pass'd betwixt you,
Not threats nor chidings could have driv'n you hence;
It pleads in your behalf, and speaks in her's;
And arms me with a double confidence
Both of your friendship and her loyalty.
I am happy in you both, and only doubtful
Which of you two doth most impart my love.
You shall not hence to-night.
Ger. Pray, pardon, sir.
Win. You are in your lodging.
Ger. But my father's charge.
Win. My conjuration shall dispense with that; You may be up as early as you please,
But hence to-night you shall not.
Ger. You are powerful.
Hath took much pleasure in your strange discourse
About Jerusalem and the Holy Land;
How the new city differs from the old;
What ruins of the Temple yet remain ;
And whether Sion, and those hills about,
With these adjacent towns and villages,
Keep that proportion'd distance as we read:
And then in Rome, of that great Pyramis
Rear'd in the front, on four lions mounted;
How many of those Idol temples stand,
First dedicated to their heathen gods,
Which ruin'd, which to better use repair'd;
Of their Pantheon, and their Capitol;
What structures are demolish'd, what remain.
And what more pleasure to an old man's ear,
That never drew save his own country's air,
Than hear such things related?
Shipwreck by Drink.
This Gentleman and I
Past but just now by your next neighbour's house,
Where, as they say, dwells one young Lionel,
An unthrift youth: his father now at sea.
There this night
In the height of their carousing, all their brains
Warm'd with the heat of wine, discourse was offer'd
Of ships and storms at sea: when suddenly,
Out of his giddy wildness, one conceives
The room wherein they quaff'd to be a Pinnace,
Moving and floating, and the confus'd noise
To be the murmuring winds, gusts, mariners;
That their unsteadfast footing did proceed
From rocking of the vessel: This conceiv'd,
Each one begins to apprehend the danger,
And to look out for safety. Fly, saith one,
Up to the main top, and discover. He
Climbs by the bed-post to the tester there,
Reports a turbulent sea and tempest towards;
And wills them, if they 'll save their ship and lives,
To cast their lading over-board. At this
All fall to work, and hoist into the street,
As to the sea, what next came to their hand,
Stools, tables, tressels, trenchers, bed-steds, cups,
Pots, plate, and glasses. Here a fellow whistles;
They take him for the boatswain: one lies struggling
Upon the floor, as if he swum for life:
A third takes the base-viol for the cock-boat,
Sits in the belly on't, labours, and rows;
His oar, the stick with which the fidler plaid:
A fourth bestrides his fellow, thinking to scape
(As did Arion) on the dolphin's back,
Still fumbling on a gittern. The rude multitude,
Watching without, and gaping for the spoil
Cast from the windows, went by th' ears about it;
The Constable is call'd to atone the broil
Which done, and hearing such a noise within
Of eminent ship-wreck, enters th' house, and finds them In this confusion: they adore his Staff,
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