Classic Poem

M rs Potlucke

Pot. Now help good Heaven! 'tis such an uncouth thing
To be a widow out of Term-time — — I
Doe feele such aguish Qualmes, and dumps and fits,
And shakings still an end — — I lately was
A wife I do confesse, but yet I had
No husband: he (alas) was dead to me
Even when he liv'd unto the world; I was
A widdow whiles he breath'd; his death did only
Make others know so much. But yet — —
Hear. How now?
So melancholy sweet?
Pot. How could I choose
Being thou wert not here? the time is come,
Thou'lt be as good unto me as thy word?
Hear. Nay, hang me if I er'e recant. You'l take me
Both wind and limb at th' venture, will you not?
Pot. Ay good Chuck, every inch of thee, she were
No true woman that would not.
Hear. I must tell you
One thing, and yet I'm loth.
Pot. I am thy Rib,
Thou must keep nothing from thy Rib, good Chuck;
Thy yoak-fellow must know all thy secrets.
Hear. Why then I'l tell you sweet
Pot. Heaven defend!
Hear. 'Tis true.
Pot. Now God forbid; and would you offer
T' undoe a widdow-woman so? I had
As leive the old Vintner were alive againe.
Hear. I was not born with it I confesse; but lying
In Turky for Intelligence, the great Turk,
Somewhat suspicious of me, lest I might
Entice some o'th' Seraglio , did command
I should be forthwith cut.
Pot. A heathen deed
It was: none but an Infidel could have
The heart to do it.
Hear. Now you know the worst
That you must trust to, come lets to the Church.
Pot. Good Mr Hear-say , Nature ne'r intended
One woman should be joyned to another.
The holy blessing of all wedlock was
T' encrease and multiply, as Mr Christopher
Did well observe last Sabbath. Ile not do
Any thing 'gainst Gods word. I do release you
Of all your promises, and that it may not
Be said you lost by loving me, take this.
Perhaps I may get you a contribution
O'th' women of the Parish, as I did
The broken-bellied-man the other day.
Hear. Seeing you needs will cast me off, let me
Intreat this one thing of you, that you would not
Make me your Table-talk, at the next Gossiping.
Pot. Indeed I pitty thee poor thing, or rather
I pitty thee poore nothing. Good Lieutenant
How dost thou? Thou art mindfull of thy Promise?
Slic. What else my jolly wench?
Pot. Good sweet Lieutenant
Give me but leave to aske one Question of you,
Art thou intire and sound in all thy limbs?
Slic. To tell the very truth, ere now I've had
A spice o'th' Pox, or so; but now I am sound
As any Bell. (Hem) Was't not shrill my Girle, ha?
Pot. I do not aske thee about these diseases;
My question is whether thou'st all thy parts.
Slic. Faith I have lost a joint or two; as none
Of our Profession come off whole, unlesse
The Generall, and some sneaks.
Pot. My meaning is
Whether that something is not wanting that
Should write thee husband.
Slic. Ne'r feare that my wench;
Dost think the King would send me to the wars
Without I had my weapons? Eunuchs are not
Men of imploiment in these dayes; his Majesty
Hath newly put me on a peece of service;
And if I e're come off (which I doe feare
I shan't, the danger is so great) brave Widow
Wee'l to't and get Commanders.
Potl. If you can
Leave me, I can leave you: there are other men
That won't refuse a Fortune when 'tis proffer'd.
Slic. Well, I must to his Majesty, think on't;
So fare thee well. Thine to his very Death,
That is a Month or two perhaps, D. Slicer .
Potl. Kind Master Shape , you are exceeding welcome.
Here hath bin M r Hearsay , and Lieutenant
Slicer : You may ghesse at their businesse, but
I hope you thinke me faithfull.
Sh. I beleeve
The memory of your Husbands ashes, which
Scarce yet are cold, extinguisheth all flames
That tend to kindling any Love-fire: 'Tis
A vertue in you, which I must admire
That only you amongst so many should
Be the sole Turtle of the Age.
Potl. I doe
Beare him in memory I confesse; but when
I doe remember what your promise was
When he lay sicke, it doth take something from
The bitternesse of Sorrow. Woman was
Not made to be alone still.
Sh. Tender things
At seventeen may use that plea; but you
Are now arriv'd at Matron: these young sparkes
Are rak'd up, I presume, in sager Embers.
Potl. Nay don't abuse her that must be your Wife;
You might have pitty, & not come with your nicknames,
And call me Turtle: have I deserv'd this?
Sh. If that you once hold merits, I have done;
I'm glad I know what's your Religion.
Potl. What's my Religion? 'tis well known there hath
Been no Religion in my house e'r since
My Husband dy'd.
Hear. How now sweet Shape ? so close
Alone w' your Widow.
Sh. Sirs dare you beleeve it?
This thing, whose prayer it hath been these ten
Yeares, that she may obtaine the second tooth,
And the third haire, now dotes on me, on me
That doe refuse all that are past sixteen.
Slic. Why faith this was her sute to me just now.
Hear. I had the first on't then. A Coachman, or
A Groome were fitter far for her.
Slic. You doe
Honour her too much to thinke she deserves
A thing that can lust moderately, give her
The sorrell Stallion in my Lords long stable.
Sha. Or the same colour'd Brother, which is worse.
Potl. Why Gentlemen — —
Hear. Foh, foh! she hath let fly.
Potl. Doe y' think I have no more manners than so?
Sha. Nay faith I can excuse her for that: But
I must confesse she spoke; which is all one.
Slic. Her breath would rout an Army, sooner than
That of a Cannon.
Hear. It would lay a Devill
Sooner than all Trithemius charmes.
Sha. Heark how
It blusters in her nosthrils like a wind
In a foule Chimney.
Potl. Out you base companions,
You stinking Swabbers.
Hear. For her gate, that's such,
As if her nose did strive t' outrun her heels.
Sha. She's just six yards behind, when that appears;
It saves an Usher Madam.
Pot. You are all
Most foul-mouth'd knaves to use a woman thus.
Sli. Your playster'd face doth drop against moist weather.
Sha. Fie, how you writh it; now it looks just like
A ruffled boot.
Slic. Or an oyld paper Lanthorn.
Hear. Her nose the candle in the midst of it.
Sha. How bright it flames? Put out your nose good Lady;
You burn day-light.
Pot. Come up you lowsie Raskals.
Hear. Not upon you for a Kingdom good Joane ,
The great Turk, Joane — — the great Turk.
Slic. Kisse him Chuck,
Kisse him Chuck open-mouth'd and be reveng'd.
Pot. Hang you base cheating Varlet.
Slic. Don't you see
December in her face?
Sha. Sure the Surveyer
Of the high-waies will have to do with her
For not keeping her countenance passable.
Hear. There lies a hoare frost on her head, and yet
A constant thaw in her nose.
Sha. She's like a peece
Of fire-wood, dropping at one end, and yet
Burning i'th' midst.
Slic. O that endeavouring face!
When will your costivenesse have done good Madam?
Hear. Do you not heare her Guts already squeake
Like Kitstrings?
Slic. They must come to that within
This two or three yeares; by that time shee'l be
True perfect Cat: They practise before hand.
Pot. I can endure no longer, though I should
Throw off my womanhood.
Hear. No need, that's done
Already: nothing left thee, that may stile thee
Woman but Lust, and Tongue; no flesh but what
The vices of the sex exact, to keep them
In heart.
Sha. Thou art so leane and out of case
That 'twere absurd to call thee Devill incarnate.
Slic. Th' art a dry Devill troubled with the lust
Of that thou hast not, flesh.
Pot. Rogue, Raskall, Villaine,
Ile shew your cheating tricks Ifaith: all shall
Be now laid open. Have I suffer'd you
Thus long i' my house, and ne'r demanded yet
One penny rent, for this? Ile have it all,
By this good blessed light I will.
Hear. You may
If that you please undo your self, you may.
I will not strive to hinder you. There is
Something contriving for you, which may be
Perhaps yet brought about, a March or so;
A proper fellow; 'tis a trifle, that;
A thing you care not for I know. Have I
Plotted to take you off from these to match you
In better sort, and am us'd thus? As for
The Rent you aske, here take it, take your money;
Fill, choake your gaping throat. But if as yet
You are not deaf to counsell, let me tell you
It had been better that you ne'r had took it.
It may stop some proceedings.
Pot. Mr Hearsay ,
You know you may have even my heart out of
My belly (as they say) if you'l but take
The paines to reach it out; I am sometimes
Peevish I doe confesse; here take your money.
Hear. No.
Potl. Good Sir.
Hear. No, keep it and hoord it up.
My purse is no safe place for it.
Potl. Let me
Request you that you would be pleas'd to take it.
Hear. Alas 'twould only trouble me; I can
As willingly goe light, as be your Treasurer.
Potl. Good Mr Slicer speake to him to take it,
Sweet Mr Shape , joyne with him.
Slic. Nay, be once
O'rerul'd by a woman.
Sha. Come, come, you shall take it.
Potl. Nay Faith you shall; here put it up good Sir.
Hear. Upon intreaty I'm content for once;
But make no Custome of't; you doe presume
Upon my easie foolishnesse; 'tis that
Makes you so bold: were it another man
He ne'r would have to doe with you. But marke me,
If e'r I find you in this mood againe,
I'le dash your hopes of Marriage for ever.