 Act 5 of a Women is a Weathercock by Nathan Field. This is the LibriWalks Recording. Our LibriWalks Recording are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriWalks.org. Act 5, Scene 1 and a Bella Front. Titles and State, do you call it? Oh, content! Thou art both beauty, means and all in marriage. Joy dwells not in the princess' palaces. They that envy them, do not know their cares. Where I, the queen of gold, I could not buy an hour's ease for my oppressed heart. Oh, where this wedlock not to tie again, not all the state and glory it contains, joined with my father's fury, should enforce my rash consent. But, Scootmore, thou shalt see this false heart in my death most true to thee. Show the knife hanging by her side. My lord, my father, all the company did note my sudden sadness now at supper. Yet came I out and put on feigned mirth, and mean to sit out this night's revels, too, to avoid all suspect may grow in them, lest my behavior should my intent reveal. Our grieves, like love, we hardly can conceal. Here come my sisters. Are the maskers ready? Enter Lucida with her velo garland on and Catherine. They are gone to dress themselves. Master Neville's come. I would, I had not vowed to live amade. I am a little taken with that gentleman, and yet, if marriage be so full of ill, let me be married to my garland still. Introth, thy state is happier much than ours, whenever too like us unfortunate. Thy case indeed I need must pretty much, because I think thy virtue slandered. But for my lady sister, if she reap, sad discontent, tis nuns but her own fault, I knew the passages twixed her and scooed more. Sister, I wonder you will name a man I think not on. He was no match for me. Why do you blame me, that should rather blame your wandering eye, to love a man loved me? Well, tis too late now to expostulate. But my poor little Kate, where is thy man? Lost, lost, Introth. Tomorrow I shall hear, I make account. He's gone some five years voyage, till this disgrace of ours be overblown. And for my captain pouts, by this time he is ten mile on the river toward Gravesend. Enter Sir John Whirly with sevens, with torches and cudgels. Stand you two there. Serah, go you with me. Why, how now, girls? Here still? What, and your ladyship? How I, away I say, go take your places. Some torches for my lady. You, Serah. Exe in Bellaronde, Lucida, Kate. Is my lady Ninny awake yet? Yes, sir. She is awake, but she scants sober. The first thing she called for was her Aquavitae bottle. Who is with her? The good Sir Innocent and her gentlewoman. Go tell them I desire their company. The mass stays on them, you say, and you hear the sides of one of their chairs must be let out, for her great ladyship. Marry shall it, sir. Exit Servant. Enter Neville, Count, Pennant, and Sir Abraham in their Mask-Queen robes. Sir Abraham, annoying, on a capon's leg. Soul! Man, leave eating now. Locke! Locke, you've all dropped on your soat. Oh, sir. I was in love today, and could not eat. But here, as one knows, the case is altered. Didn't mean but a handkerchief to wipe my mouth, but I had done. Soul, how this rascal stays with the rest of our things. Oh, no, sir, Count. What, ready, Master Neville? All ready. Ready. Only we tarry for our vizards and our caps. I put them to a knave to do, because I would have them the better done. If you put them to a knave, you'll like to have them the worse, Dutton. Your wit is most active. I called him knave in regard of his long stay, sir, not his work. But, you hear, Master Neville, do you speak of vizard with the most terrible countenance for me? A very devil's face. I fear nothing but that it will fright the women. Oh, would it would, and a huge mustachio. A very turks. Excellent. But do you think he will come at all? Oh, there he is. Scoodmore, visit. By your leave. Stand back. By your leave. And a Scoodmore like a vizard maker. Nothing can be done tonight, if I unto not. Stand back there, or I'll burn you. Twirl but a horous trick, sir. Oh, sir, it's you. Heart, you will be killed. Marry God forbid, sir. Pray, forebear. Let me speak to him. Oh, you use us very well. In good faith. I have been so troubled about this gentleman's scurvy face. I dig it. It is wonderful. Well, are you fitted now? Fitted at all points. Where are the caps? Here, sir. Let me see mine. Come, help me on with mine. This is a rare face to fright the maize of the country. Yeah, now open my purse. Come, help me on. So, so, away. Mine being on, I'll follow you. Pray, make haste. Exe and Sir John Worley, say Abraham, count, pendant. So, that door's fast, and they are busy about their charge. On with this robe of mine, this vizard, and this cap. Help me a little. Change habits. At first change, I must tell her who I am. Right. Tis agreed I, leading of the mask, should dance with Bella Front. And at the second, I'll come away with her, and leave them dancing, and she'll find you at the back door. The rest that follows is digested in my breast. What would you do, I stand back? Unless you could eat torches. And to count, pendant, Sir Abraham and their masking robes. Come, come, away, for shame. Tis such a tedious rascal. So how are ye? Exe and Maskers. Thou hast well fitted, though thou madest them stay. I forbid any man to mend them, sir. Good night unto your worship. Will not stay? Alas, sir, I have another to set forth this very night. By your leave, my masters. Exit Neville through them. By your leave, by your leave, you let a man go out. Now go with me, and let all in, that will. Exit Sir John Whirly with them, and run in three or four. Scene two. Enter two or three, setting three or four chairs, and four of ice-tools. Loud music, in which time enters Sir John Whirly. Sir Innocent, Bella Front, Lucider, Kate, my Lady Ninny, Mistress Wagtail. They seat themselves. Lady Ninny offers her two or three chairs. At last finds the great one. They point at her and laugh. As soon as she's set, she drinks of her bottle. The music plays, and they enter. After one strain of the music, Scudmore takes Bella Front, who seems unwilling to dance. Count takes Lucider, Pendant, Kate. Sir Abraham, Mistress Wagtail. Scudmore, as they stand, the other coating, too, whispers as follows. I am yours, Scudmore. Soft music. By heaven I am. Be ruled by me in all things. Even to death. Soot, did you not know me by my purse? I should now have known you by that, for you wear it on your head, and other folks in their pockets. Which is my Lord, I pray. The second match. Young Neville leads. And where's Sir Abraham? He with the terrible visage. Now, I looked upon him to disfigure himself, though. And true not for my bottle, I should swoon. Music. And they dance the second strain, in which Scudmore goes away with Bella Front. Good. Very good. The other four dance another strain. Honor and end. But where's the bride and Neville? Where tricks? Oh, there they come. It was their part to do so. And as Scudmore unvisited, Bella Front with pistols and the right parson. This Neville, this is Scudmore. How? But here's my lady. No, my gentlewoman. Zooms, treason, I smell powder. In short, know that I am married to this gentleman, to whom I was contracted long ago. This priest, the inviolable, not hath tied. Aside. What ease I find being unladified. What riddles this? Where the last statute of two husbands. Pitch. This is the very priest that married me. Is it not, sister? And to Neville, like the parson, too. No. Lord bless us. Here is Conjuring. Lend me your aquavite bottle, good mother. Okay. The world's turned upside down. I have heard and seen two or three benefices to one priest, or more. But two priests to one benefices ne'er before. Married not you, the Euro? Bonafide no. You did then? Yes. I have the privilege then. Right. You were married first. But you don't. This is a devil in a parson's coat. Neville puts off the priest's weeds and has a devil's sure wonder. A pretty emblem? Who married her, or would have caused her marry to any man but this? No better was. Let circumstances be examined. Yet here's one more, and now I hope you all perceive my marrying not canonical. Slips off his devil's weeds. Neville! Hart, what a deal of navery a priest's cloak can hide if it be not one of the honestest, friendliest cousin-nages that ere I saw I am no Lord. Life! I'm not married then, an honest. So, mistress Kate, I kept you for myself. It boots not to be angry. No faith, sir John. And a strange bit poulks on his back. Whither will you go with your calf on your back, sir? Now, oh, more navery yet? Prithee for bear, or I shall do thee mischief. My olive here is some sad your merriment. Know you this captain? Yes, very well. Oh, sister, here's the villain slandered me. You see he cannot stand to it. Is he hurt in the arm too? Yes. My then, by God's lid thou art a base-rogue. I knew I should live to tell thee so. Sir Abraham, I see. Heaven is just. What a rogue are you! Is this the surgeon you would carry me to? Confess your slander and I will, I swear. No, it is no matter. I'll cry quittance with you. Forgive me, mistress Kate, and know all people I lied not with her, but belied her once, and to my recantation that same soldier enforced my hand. Yes, here it is, mistress Kate. They all look on the paper. I see now how I am cheated. Love him well. He has redeemed your honour with his sword. But where is Strange, my son? Or were he here he should be married new to make all sure? Oh, my divine spirit, he's gone to sea. This cunning in her is exceeding good. Your son, your husband, Strange is murdered. How? Peace, peace for heaven's sake, peace. Come, sir, I'll carry you to a surgeon. Here's the goal to stop thy throat. For God's sake, peace. Sirah, you've brought me to a surgeon already. I'll be even with you. Of all men living, I could marry thee. Why not my heart give in to another man? Sir, did you speak of Strange? These women are as crafty as the devil. Yes, I did speak of him, sir John, my lord. How Strange is murdered by that villain's hand and by his wife's consent. How? Oh, God forbid. Search presently the closet and the vault. There you shall find his body. It is too true. The reason all may guess, her husband wanting spirit to do on me what he hath done in hope to marry her, he hath murdered him. To marry me? No, villain. I do hate him on this report worse than I do thyself. And may the plagues and torches of a land seize me if this not be an innocent hand. For God's his most like tooth, son Scoodmore, pray. Look to this fellow gentleman. Assist. Torches. Some torches. I'll go search myself. I will assist you. But I pray, sir, how came you unto this knowledge? From his mouth. I'll save your labour and discover all. Thou, tortured villain, didst not swear thou wouldst not discover me. I but swore ingest. Nay, but remember thou didst wish strange living if ever thou didst tell. Sir, all is true, and with my punishment would ease my conscience. Do new gate with him, hence. Take her along, out-murderers, or thou art no child of mine. Fetch Constable and officers. Away. Sir, do but hear me speak. Fetch the officers. Go fetch a surgeon. Sir, you are then too violent. I will bail her. Discovers himself. O my dear, strange. My son. Brother. Young strange. Cut. I was never sick before. Help me now to a surgeon, or I shall swoon instantly. As to lead him, he speaks. I were born a woman, citizen. Fair thee well, and farewell. Love and women, ye diseases. My horse and sword shall be my mistresses. My horse are caught. My sword shall lie with me. Exit. The way to cure lust is too bleed, I see. Tell him all, Skudmore, whilst I go awo-ing again. So, John, will you go along, and my two worshipful elders, I pray, be your witnesses. Priest, go not you away. Heart, I have so ruminated on a wife, that I must have one this night, or I shall run proud. Neville, Skudmore, Bella Front, Strange, Catherine, whispered in one part. Pendant, Sir Abraham, and Vactail in another. Mistress Lucida, you did once love me. If you do still, no more words, but give me your hand. Why, are you doubtful? Now look upon me, Mistress Lucida. Time was, time is, and times past. How long have you now? I am otherwise provided. Well spoken, brazen head. Now all never, Sir Abraham. Then first, as duty binds, I crave consent of my two appearance, dear. If I say so, if not, I'll have, whether you will or no. How? How? I hope you will not. Ma'am, I am resolved. You have a humour of your aquavite bottle. Why should not I have a humour in a wife? An old man were a fitter match for her. He would make much of her. I know not what she call much-making on her. I am sure I have made two on her. And that, an old man cannot do, I hope. Oh, thou, beyond Lawrence of Lancashire! Come, come, you shall not. Speak not in vain. I am too sure to change. The hand and heart are sure. H.A. Signum. And this have I done. I never lay with her. Then, it is too late. It is sure. It is vain to cross the will of fate. Well, well, God bless you. Oh, bless you. Abraham and Vactale, kneel. Thanks, Reverend couple. And God bless with all, the little niny that herein doth sprawl. Parson, you shall dispatch us presently. Lord, how soberly you stand. Now, truly, I could never stand drunk in my life. Strange and most fortunate. We must have a new tuck, then. Is it a match? Tis done. Then back us, squeeze grapes with a plentious hand. Parson, you'll take some pains with us tonight. Come, brothers, come, fly willow to the woods, and like the sea, for else let's drink whole floods. I consecrate my deed unto the city, and hope to live myself to see the day that shall be shown to people in a play. And may all true love have like happy end. Woman, forgive me, men, admire my friend. On, Parson, on. And boy, out-voice the music near was so much, but cannot heavily powers. Done and undone, and done in twelve short hours. Excellent. End of Act V. End of A Woman is a Vethercock by Nathaniel Field.