Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Host, Lady, Prudence, Frank.
Your Ladiship, and all your Train are welcome.
Lad. I thank my hearty Host. Hos. So is your Soveraignity
Madam, I wish you hoy o' your new Gown.
Lad. It should ha' been, my Host, but Stuff; our taylor
Has broke with us, you shall be o' the Counsel.
Pru. He will deserve it, Madam, my Lady has heard
You have a pretty Son, mine Host, she'ld see him.
Lad. I very fain, I pry'y thee let me see him, Host.
Host. Your Ladiship shall presenty:
Bid Frank come hither, anon, unto my Lady,
It is a bashful Child, homely brought up,
In a rude Hostelry. But the Light Heart
Is his Fathers, and it may be his.
Here he comes. Frank, salute my Lady. Fra. I do.
What, Madam, I am design'd to do, by my Birth-right,
As Heir of the Light Heart, bid you most welcome.
Lad. And I believe you most, my pretty Boy,
Being so emphased by you. Fra. Your Ladiship,
If you believe it such, are sure to make it.
Lad. Prettily answer'd! Is your Name Francis? Fra. Yes, Madam.
Lad. I love mine own the better. Fra. If I knew yours,
I should make haste to do so too, good Madam.
Lad. It is the same with yours. Fra. Mine then acknowledgeth
The Lustre it receives, by being nam'd after.
Lad. You will win upon me in Complement. Fra. By silence.
Lad. A modest and fair well-spoken Child.
Hos. Her Ladiship shall have him, Soveraign Pru,
Or what I have beside; divide my Heart
Between you and your Lady. Make your use of it:
My House is yours, my Son is yours. Behold,
I tender him to your Service; Frank, become
What these brave Ladies would ha' you. Only this,
There is a Chair-woman i' the House, his Nurse,
An Irish Woman, I took in a Beggar,
That waits upon him; a poor silly Fool,
But an impertinent and sedulous one
As ever was; will vex you on all occasions,
Never be off, or from you, but in her sleep;
Or drink which makes it; She doth love him so,
Or rather doat on him. Now, for her, a shape,
As we may dress her (and I'll help) to fit her,
With a Tuft Taffata-Cloak, an old french Hood,
And other Pieces, heterogene enough.
Pru. We ha' brought a Standard of Apparel down,
Because this Taylor fail'd us i' the main.
Hos. She shall advance the Game. Pru. About it then.
And send but Trundle hither, the Coachman, to me.
Hos. I shall: But Pru, let Lovel ha' fair quarter.
Pru. The best. Lad. Our Host (me thinks) is very gamesom!
Pru. How like you the Boy? Lad. A Miracle! Pru. Good Madam,
But take him in, and sort a Suit for him,
I'll give our Trundle his instructions;
And wait upon your Ladiship i' the Instant.
Lad. But Pru, what shall we call him when we ha' drest him?
Pru. My Lady-No-body, any thing, what you will.
Lad. Call him Laetitia, by my Sisters name,
And so 'twill mind our Mirth too we have in hand.