_Beat._ Strangely twice, sir.
_Ver._ Those sleepy sluts are dangerous in a house,
An they be ne’er so good.
_Re-enter_ DE FLORES.
_De F._ O poor virginity, 105
Thou hast paid dearly for ’t!
_Ver._ Bless us, what ’s that?
_De F._ A thing you all knew once, Diaphanta’s burnt.
_Beat._ My woman! O my woman!
_De F._ Now the flames
Are greedy of her; burnt, burnt, burnt to death, sir!
_Beat._ O my presaging soul!
_Als._ Not a tear more! 110
I charge you by the last embrace I gave you
In bed, before this rais’d us.
_Beat._ Now you tie me;
Were it my sister, now she gets no more.
_Enter_ Servant.
_Ver._ How now?
_Ser._ All danger ’s past; you may now take 115
Your rests, my lords; the fire is throughly quencht.
Ah, poor gentlewoman, how soon was she stifled!
_Beat._ De Flores, what is left of her inter,
And we as mourners all will follow her.
I will entreat that honour to my servant 120
Ev’n of my lord himself.
_Als._ Command it, sweetness.
_Beat._ Which of you spied the fire first?
_De F._ ’T was I, madam.
_Beat._ And took such pains in ’t too? A double goodness!
’T were well he were rewarded.
_Ver._ He shall be.—
De Flores, call upon me.
_Als._ And upon me, sir. 125
_Exeunt_ [_all except_ DE FLORES].
_De F._ Rewarded? Precious! here ’s a trick beyond me.
I see in all bouts, both of sport and wit,
Always a woman strives for the last hit. _Exit._
[SCENE II.][4007]
_Enter_ TOMASO.
_Tom._ I cannot taste the benefits of life
With the same relish I was wont to do.
Man I grow weary of, and hold his fellowship
A treacherous bloody friendship; and because 4
I ’m ignorant in whom my wrath should settle,
I must think all men villains, and the next
I meet, whoe’er he be, the murderer
Of my most worthy brother. Ha! what ’s he?
DE FLORES _passes over the stage._
O, the fellow that some call honest De Flores;
But methinks honesty was hard bested 10
To come there for a lodging; as if a queen
Should make her palace of a pest-house.
I find a contrariety in nature
Betwixt that face and me; the least occasion
Would give me game upon him; yet he ’s so foul 15
One would scarce touch [him] with a sword he lov’d
And made account of; so most deadly venomous,
He would go near to poison any weapon
That should draw blood on him; one must resolve
Never to use that sword again in fight 20
In way of honest manhood that strikes him;
Some river must devour it; ’t were not fit
That any man should find it. What, again?
_Re-enter_ DE FLORES.
He walks a’ purpose by, sure, to choke me up,
T’ infect my blood.
_De F._ My worthy noble lord! 25
_Tom._ Dost offer to come near and breathe upon me? [_Strikes him._]
_De F._ A blow! [_Draws._]
_Tom._ Yea, are you so prepar’d?
I ’ll rather like a soldier die by th’ sword,
Than like a politician by thy poison. [_Draws._]
_De F._ Hold, my lord, as you are honourable!
_Tom._ All slaves that kill by poison are still cowards. 31
_De F._ [_Aside._] I cannot strike; I see his brother’s wounds
Fresh bleeding in his eye, as in a crystal.—
I will not question this, I know you ’re noble;
I take my injury with thanks given, sir, 35
Like a wise lawyer, and as a favour
Will wear it for the worthy hand that gave it.—
[_Aside._] Why this from him that yesterday appear’d
So strangely loving to me?
O, but instinct is of a subtler strain! 40
Guilt must not walk so near his lodge again;
He came near me now. _Exit._
_Tom._ All league with mankind I renounce for ever,
Till I find this murderer; not so much
As common courtesy but I ’ll lock up; 45
For in the state of ignorance I live in,
A brother may salute his brother’s murderer,
And wish good speed to th’ villain in a greeting.
_Enter_ VERMANDERO, ALIBIUS, _and_ ISABELLA.
_Ver._ Noble Piracquo!
_Tom._ Pray, keep on your way, sir;
I ’ve nothing to say to you.
_Ver._ Comforts bless you, sir; 50
_Tom._ I ’ve forsworn compliment, in troth I have, sir;
As you are merely man, I have not left
A good wish for you, nor for any here.
_Ver._ Unless you be so far in love with grief,
You will not part from ’t upon any terms, 55
We bring that news will make a welcome for us.
_Tom._ What news can that be?
_Ver._ Throw no scornful smile
Upon the zeal I bring you, ’t is worth more, sir.
Two of the chiefest men I kept about me 59
I hide not from the law of your just vengeance.
_Tom._ Ha!
_Ver._ To give your peace more ample satisfaction,
Thank these discoverers.
_Tom._ If you bring that calm,
Name but the manner I shall ask forgiveness in
For that contemptuous smile [I threw][4008] upon you;
I ’ll perfect it with reverence that belongs 66
Unto a sacred altar. [_Kneels._]
_Ver._ [_raising him._] Good sir, rise;
Why, now you overdo as much a’ this hand
As you fell short a’ t’ other.—Speak, Alibius.
_Alib._ ’T was my wife’s fortune, as she is most lucky 70
At a discovery, to find out lately,
Within our hospital of fools and madmen,
Two counterfeits slipt into these disguises,
Their names Franciscus and Antonio.
_Ver._ Both mine, sir, and I ask no favour for ’em. 75
_Alib._ Now that which draws suspicion to their habits,
The time of their disguisings agrees justly
With the day of the murder.
_Tom._ O blest revelation!
_Ver._ Nay, more, nay, more, sir—I ’ll not spare mine own 79
In way of justice—they both feign’d a journey
To Briamata, and so wrought out[4009] their leaves;
My love was so abus’d[4010] in ’t.
_Tom._ Time ’s too precious
To run in waste now; you have brought a peace
The riches of five kingdoms could not purchase.
Be my most happy conduct; I thirst for ’em: 85
Like subtle lightning will I wind about ’em,
And melt their marrow in ’em. _Exeunt._
[SCENE III.][4011]
_Enter_ ALSEMERO _and_ JASPERINO.
_Jas._ Your confidence, I ’m sure, is now of proof;
The prospect from the garden has show’d
Enough for deep suspicion.
_Als._ The black mask
That so continually was worn upon ’t
Condemns the face for ugly ere ’t be seen, 5
Her despite to him, and so seeming bottomless.
_Jas._ Touch it home then; ’t is not a shallow probe
Can search this ulcer soundly; I fear you ’ll find it
Full of corruption. ’T is fit I leave you,
She meets you opportunely from that walk; 10
She took the back door at his parting with her. _Exit._
_Als._ Did my fate wait for this unhappy stroke
At my first sight of woman? She is here.
_Enter_ BEATRICE.
_Beat._ Alsemero!
_Als._ How do you?
_Beat._ How do I?
Alas, sir! how do you? You look not well. 15
_Als._ You read me well enough; I am not well.
_Beat._ Not well, sir? Is ’t in my power to better you?
_Als._ Yes.
_Beat._ Nay, then you ’re cur’d again.
_Als._ Pray, resolve[4012] me one question, lady. 20
_Beat._ If I can.
_Als._ None can so sure: are you honest?
_Beat._ Ha, ha, ha! that ’s a broad question, my lord.
_Als._ But that ’s not a modest answer, my lady.
Do you laugh? My doubts are strong upon me.
_Beat._ ’T is innocence that smiles, and no rough brow 26
Can take away the dimple in her cheek.
Say I should strain a tear to fill the vault,
Which would you give the better faith to?
_Als._ ’T were but hypocrisy of a sadder colour,
But the same stuff; neither your smiles nor tears 31
Shall move or flatter me from my belief:
You are a whore!
_Beat._ What a horrid sound it hath!
It blasts a beauty to deformity;
Upon what face soever that breath falls, 35
It strikes it ugly. O, you have ruin’d
What you can ne’er repair again?
_Als._ I ’ll all
Demolish, and seek out truth within you,
If there be any left; let your sweet tongue
Prevent your heart’s rifling; there I ’ll ransack
And tear out my suspicion.
_Beat._ You may, sir; 41
It is an easy passage; yet, if you please,
Show me the ground whereon you lost your love;
My spotless virtue may but tread on that
Before I perish.
_Als._ Unanswerable; 45
A ground you cannot stand on; you fall down
Beneath all grace and goodness when you set
Your ticklish heel on ’t. There was a visor
Over that cunning face, and that became you;
Now Impudence in triumph rides upon ’t. 50
How comes this tender reconcilement else
’Twixt you and your despite, your rancorous loathing,
De Flores? he that your eye was sore at sight of,
He ’s now become your arm’s supporter, your
Lip’s saint!
_Beat._ Is there the cause?
_Als._ Worse, your lust’s devil, 55
Your adultery!
_Beat._ Would any but yourself say that,
’T would turn him to a villain!
_Als._ It was witnest
By the counsel of your bosom, Diaphanta.
_Beat._ Is your witness dead then?
_Als._ ’T is to be fear’d
It was the wages of her knowledge; poor soul,
She liv’d not long after the discovery. 61
_Beat._ Then hear a story of not much less horror
Than this your false suspicion is beguil’d with;
To your bed’s scandal I stand up innocence,
Which even the guilt of one black other deed 65
Will stand for proof of; your love has made me
A cruel murd’ress.
_Als._ Ha!
_Beat._ A bloody one;
I have kist poison for it, strokt a serpent:
That thing of hate, worthy in my esteem
Of no better employment, and him most worthy
To be so employ’d, I caus’d to murder 71
That innocent Piracquo, having no
Better means than that worst to assure
Yourself to me.
_Als._ O, the place itself e’er since
Has crying been for vengeance! The temple, 75
Where blood and beauty first unlawfully
Fir’d their devotion and quencht the right one;
’T was in my fears at first, ’t will have it now:
O, thou art all deform’d!
_Beat._ Forget not, sir, 79
It for your sake was done. Shall greater dangers
Make the less welcome?
_Als._ O, thou should’st have gone
A thousand leagues about to have avoided
This dangerous bridge of blood! Here we are lost.
_Beat._ Remember, I am true unto your bed.
_Als._ The bed itself ’s a charnel, the sheets shrouds 85
For murdered carcasses. It must ask pause
What I must do in this; meantime you shall
Be my prisoner only: enter my closet;
_Exit_ BEATRICE [_into closet_].
I ’ll be your keeper yet. O, in what part
Of this sad story shall I first begin? Ha! 90
This same fellow has put me in.—De Flores!
_Enter_ DE FLORES.
_De F._ Noble Alsemero!
_Als._ I can tell you
News, sir; my wife has her commended to you.
_De F._ That ’s news indeed, my lord; I think she would
Commend me to the gallows if she could, 95
She ever lov’d me so well; I thank her.
_Als._ What ’s this blood upon your band, De Flores?
_De F._ Blood! no, sure ’t was washt since.
_Als._ Since when, man?
_De F._ Since t’ other day I got a knock
In a sword-and-dagger school; I think ’t is out.
_Als._ Yes, ’t is almost out, but ’t is perceiv’d though. 101
I had forgot my message; this it is,
What price goes murder?
_De F._ How, sir?
_Als._ I ask you, sir;
My wife ’s behindhand with you, she tells me,
For a brave bloody blow you gave for her sake
Upon Piracquo.
_De F._ Upon? ’T was quite through him sure:
Has she confest it?
_Als._ As sure as death to both of you; 107
And much more than that.
_De F._ It could not be much more;
’T was but one thing, and that—she is a whore.
_Als._ It could not choose but follow. O cunning devils! 110
How should blind men know you from fair-fac’d saints?
_Beat._ [_within._] He lies! the villain does belie me!
_De F._ Let me go to her, sir.
_Als._ Nay, you shall to her.—
Peace, crying crocodile, your sounds are heard;
Take your prey to you;—get you into her, sir:
_Exit_ DE FLORES [_into closet_].
I ’ll be your pander now; rehearse again 116
Your scene of lust, that you may be perfect
When you shall come to act it to the black audience,
Where howls and gnashings shall be music to you.
Clip[4013] your adulteress freely, ’t is the pilot 120
Will guide you to the _mare mortuum_,
Where you shall sink to fathoms bottomless.
_Enter_ VERMANDERO, TOMASO, ALIBIUS, ISABELLA, FRANCISCUS, _and_
ANTONIO.
_Ver._ O Alsemero! I ’ve a wonder for you.
_Als._ No, sir, ’t is I, I have a wonder for you.
_Ver._ I have suspicion near as proof itself 125
For Piracquo’s murder.
_Als._ Sir, I have proof,
Beyond suspicion of Piracquo’s murder.
_Ver._ Beseech you, hear me; these who have been disguis’d
E’er since the deed was done.
_Als._ I have two other
That were more close disguis’d than your two could be 130
E’er since the deed was done.
_Ver._ You ’ll hear me—these mine own servants——
_Als._ Hear me—those nearer than your servants
That shall acquit them, and prove them guiltless.
_Fran._ That may be done with easy truth, sir. 135
_Tom._ How is my cause bandied through your delays!
’T is urgent in [my] blood and calls for haste.
Give me a brother [or] alive or dead;
Alive, a wife with him; if dead, for both
A recompense for murder and adultery. 140
_Beat._ (_within._) O, O, O!
_Als._ Hark! ’t is coming to you.
_De F._ (_within._) Nay, I ’ll along for company.
_Beat._ (_within._) O, O!
_Ver._ What horrid sounds are these?
_Als._ Come forth, you twins
Of mischief!
_Re-enter_ DE FLORES, _bringing in_ BEATRICE [_wounded_].
_De F._ Here we are: if you have any more
To say to us, speak quickly, I shall not 145
Give you the hearing else; I am so stout yet,
And so, I think, that broken rib of mankind.
_Ver._ A host of enemies ent’red my citadel
Could not amaze like this: Joanna! Beatrice! Joanna!
_Beat._ O, come not near me, sir, I shall defile you! 150
I that was of your blood was taken from you,
For your better health; look no more upon ’t,
But cast it to the ground regardlessly,
Let the common sewer take it from distinction.
Beneath the stars, upon yon meteor [_Pointing to_ DE FLORES.] 155
Ever hung my fate ’mongst things corruptible;
I ne’er could pluck it from him; my loathing
Was prophet to the rest, but ne’er believ’d.
Mine honour fell with him, and now my life.—
Alsemero, I ’m a stranger to your bed; 160
Your bed was coz’ned on the nuptial night,—
For which your false bride died.
_Als._ Diaphanta?
_De F._ Yes, and the while I coupled with your mate
At barley-break; now we are left in hell.[4014]
_Ver._ We are all there, it circumscribes us here. 165
_De F._ I lov’d this woman in spite of her heart:
Her love I earn’d out of Piracquo’s murder.
_Tom._ Ha! my brother’s murderer?
_De F._ Yes, and her honour’s prize
Was my reward; I thank life for nothing
But that pleasure; it was so sweet to me, 170
That I have drunk up all, left none behind
For any man to pledge me.
_Ver._ Horrid villain!
Keep life in him for future tortures.
_De F._ No!
I can prevent you; here ’s my pen-knife still;
It is but one thread more [_stabbing himself_],
and now ’t is cut.— 175
Make haste, Joanna, by that token to thee,
Canst not forget, so lately put in mind;
I would not go to leave thee far behind. _Dies._
_Beat._ Forgive me, Alsemero, all forgive!
’T is time to die when ’t is a shame to live. _Dies._ 180
_Ver._ O, my name ’s ent’red now in that record
Where till this fatal hour ’t was never read.
_Als._ Let it be blotted out; let your heart lose it,
And it can never look you in the face,
Nor tell a tale behind the back of life 185
To your dishonour. Justice hath so right
The guilty hit, that innocence is quit
By proclamation, and may joy again.—
Sir, you are sensible of what truth hath done;
’T is the best comfort that your grief can find.
_Tom._ Sir, I am satisfied; my injuries 191
Lie dead before me; I can exact no more,
Unless my soul were loose, and could o’ertake
Those black fugitives that are fled from hence,
To take[4015] a second vengeance; but there are wraths 195
Deeper than mine, ’t is to be fear’d, about ’em.
_Als._ What an opacous body had that moon
That last chang’d on us! Here is beauty chang’d
To ugly whoredom; here servant-obedience
To a master-sin, imperious murder; 200
I, a suppos’d husband, chang’d embraces
With wantonness,—but that was paid before.—
Your change is come too, from an ignorant wrath
To knowing friendship.—Are there any more on ’s? 204
_Ant._ Yes, sir, I was chang’d too from a little ass as I was to a
great fool as I am; and had like to ha’ been chang’d to the gallows,
but that you know my innocence[4016] always excuses me.
_Fran._ I was chang’d from a little wit to be stark mad, 210
Almost for the same purpose.
_Isa._ Your change is still behind,
But deserve best your transformation:
You are a jealous coxcomb, keep schools of folly,
And teach your scholars how to break your own head.
_Alib._ I see all apparent, wife, and will change now 215
Into a better husband, and ne’er keep
Scholars that shall be wiser than myself.
_Als._ Sir, you have yet a son’s duty living,
Please you, accept it; let that your sorrow,
As it goes from your eye, go from your heart.
Man and his sorrow at the grave must part. 221
EPILOGUE
_Als._ All we can do to comfort one another,
To stay a brother’s sorrow for a brother,
To dry a child from the kind father’s eyes,
Is to no purpose, it rather multiplies: 225
Your only smiles have power to cause relive
The dead again, or in their rooms to give
Brother a new brother, father a child;
If these appear, all griefs are reconcil’d. _Exeunt omnes._
A NEW WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS
BY PHILIP MASSINGER
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
[LORD] LOVELL, an English Lord.
SIR GILES OVERREACH, a cruel extortioner.
[FRANK] WELLBORN, a Prodigal.
[TOM] ALLWORTH, a young Gentleman, Page to Lord Lovell.
GREEDY, a hungry Justice of Peace.
MARRALL, a Term-Driver; a creature of Sir Giles Overreach.
ORDER [Steward], }
AMBLE [Usher], }
FURNACE [Cook], } Servants to the Lady Allworth.
WATCHALL [Porter],}
WILLDO, a Parson.
TAPWELL, an Alehouse Keeper.
Three Creditors, Servants, &c.
The LADY ALLWORTH, a rich Widow.
MARGARET, Overreach his daughter.
FROTH, Tapwell’s Wife.
Chambermaid.
Waiting Woman.
[SCENE.—_The Country near Nottingham._]
ACT I
SCENE I.[4017]
[_Enter_] WELLBORN [_in tattered apparel_], TAPWELL, _and_ FROTH.
_Well._ No bouse?[4018] nor no tobacco?
_Tap._ Not a suck, sir;
Nor the remainder of a single can
Left by a drunken porter, all night pall’d[4019] too.
_Froth._ Not the dropping of the tap for your morning’s draught, sir.
’T is verity, I assure you.
_Well._ Verity, you brach![4020] 5
The devil turn’d precisian![4021] Rogue, what am I?
_Tap._ Troth, durst I trust you with a looking-glass,
To let you see your trim shape, you would quit me
And take the name yourself.
_Well._ How, dog!
_Tap._ Even so, sir.
And I must tell you, if you but advance 10
Your Plymouth cloak[4022] you shall be soon instructed
There dwells, and within call, if it please your worship,
A potent monarch call’d the constable,
That does command a citadel call’d the stocks;
Whose guards are certain files of rusty billmen
Such as with great dexterity will hale 16
Your tatter’d, lousy——
_Well._ Rascal! slave!
_Froth._ No rage, sir.
_Tap._ At his own peril. Do not put yourself
In too much heat, there being no water near
To quench your thirst; and sure, for other liquor, 20
As mighty ale, or beer, they are things, I take it,
You must no more remember; not in a dream, sir.
_Well._ Why, thou unthankful villain, dar’st thou talk thus!
Is not thy house, and all thou hast, my gift?
_Tap._ I find it not in chalk; and Timothy Tapwell 25
Does keep no other register.
_Well._ Am not I he
Whose riots fed and cloth’d thee? Wert thou not
Born on my father’s land, and proud to be
A drudge in his house?
_Tap._ What I was, sir, it skills[4023] not; 29
What you are, is apparent. Now, for a farewell,
Since you talk of father, in my hope it will torment you,
I’ll briefly tell your story. Your dead father,
My quondam master, was a man of worship,
Old Sir John Wellborn, justice of peace and _quorum_,[4024]
And stood fair to be _custos rotulorum_:[4025] 35
Bore the whole sway of the shire, kept a great house,
Reliev’d the poor, and so forth; but he dying,
And the twelve hundred a year coming to you,
Late Master Francis, but now forlorn Wellborn——
_Well._ Slave, stop! or I shall lose myself.
_Froth._ Very hardly; 40
You cannot out of your way.
_Tap._ But to my story:
You were then a lord of acres, the prime gallant,
And I your under-butler. Note the change now:
You had a merry time of’t; hawks and hounds;
With choice of running horses; mistresses 45
Of all sorts and all sizes, yet so hot,
As their embraces made your lordship melt;
Which your uncle, Sir Giles Overreach, observing,
(Resolving not to lose a drop of ’em,)
On foolish mortgages, statutes, and bonds, 50
For a while suppli’d your looseness, and then left you.
_Well._ Some curate hath penn’d this invective, mongrel,
And you have studied it.
_Tap._ I have not done yet.
Your land gone, and your credit not worth a token,
You grew a common borrower; no man scap’d
Your paper-pellets,[4026] from the gentleman 56
To the beggars on highways, that sold you switches
In your gallantry.
_Well._ I shall switch your brains out.
_Tap._ Where poor Tim Tapwell, with a little stock,
Some forty pounds or so, bought a small cottage; 60
Humbled myself to marriage with my Froth here,
Gave entertainment——
_Well._ Yes, to whores and canters,[4027]
Clubbers by night.
_Tap._ True, but they brought in profit,
And had a gift to pay for what they call’d for,
And stuck not like your mastership. The poor income 65
I glean’d from them hath made me in my parish
Thought worthy to be scavenger, and in time
May rise to be overseer of the poor;
Which if I do, on your petition, Wellborn,
May allow you thirteen-pence a quarter, 70
And you shall thank my worship.
_Well._ Thus, you dog-bolt.
And thus—— _Beats and kicks him._
_Tap._ [_to his wife_.] Cry out for help!
_Well._ Stir, and thou diest:
Your potent prince, the constable, shall not save you.
Hear me, ungrateful hell-hound! Did not I
Make purses for you? Then you lick’d my boots, 75
And thought your holiday cloak too coarse to clean ’em.
’T was I that, when I heard thee swear if ever
Thou couldst arrive at forty pounds thou wouldst
Live like an emperor, ’t was I that gave it
In ready gold. Deny this, wretch!
_Tap._ I must, sir; 80
For, from the tavern to the taphouse, all,
On forfeiture of their licenses, stand bound
Ne’er to remember who their best guests were,
If they grew poor like you.
_Well._ They are well rewarded
That beggar themselves to make such cuckolds rich. 85
Thou viper, thankless viper! impudent bawd!
But since you have grown forgetful, I will help
Your memory, and tread you into mortar,
Nor leave one bone unbroken. [_Beats him again_.]
_Tap._ Oh!
_Froth._ Ask mercy.
_Enter_ ALLWORTH.
_Well._ ’T will not be granted.
_All._ Hold—for my sake, hold. 90
Deny me, Frank? They are not worth your anger.
_Well._ For once thou hast redeem’d them from this sceptre;[4028]
But let ’em vanish, creeping on their knees,
And, if they grumble, I revoke my pardon.
_Froth._ This comes of your prating, husband; you presum’d 95
On your ambling wit, and must use your glib tongue,
Though you are beaten lame for’t.
_Tap._ Patience, Froth;
There’s law to cure our bruises.
_They go off on their hands and knees_.
_Well._ Sent to your mother?
_All._ My lady, Frank, my patroness, my all!
She ’s such a mourner for my father’s death,
And, in her love to him, so favours me, 101
That I cannot pay too much observance to her.
There are few such stepdames.
_Well._ ’T is a noble widow,
And keeps her reputation pure, and clear
From the least taint of infamy; her life, 105
With the splendour of her actions, leaves no tongue
To envy or detraction. Prithee tell me,
Has she no suitors?
_All._ Even the best of the shire, Frank,
My lord excepted; such as sue and send,
And send and sue again, but to no purpose; 110
Their frequent visits have not gain’d her presence.
Yet she’s so far from sullenness and pride,
That I dare undertake you shall meet from her
A liberal entertainment. I can give you
A catalogue of her suitors’ names.
_Well._ Forbear it, 115
While I give you good counsel: I am bound to it,
Thy father was my friend, and that affection
I bore to him, in right descends to thee;
Thou art a handsome and a hopeful youth, 119
Nor will I have the least affront stick on thee,
If I with any danger can prevent it.
_All._ I thank your noble care; but, pray you, in what
Do I run the hazard?
_Well._ Art thou not in love?
Put it not off with wonder.
_All._ In love, at my years!
_Well._ You think you walk in clouds, but are transparent. 125
I have heard all, and the choice that you have made,
And, with my finger, can point out the north star
By which the loadstone of your folly’s guided;
And, to confirm this true, what think you of
Fair Margaret, the only child and heir 130
Of Cormorant Overreach? Does it blush and start,
To hear her only nam’d? Blush at your want
Of wit and reason.
_All._ You are too bitter, sir.
_Well._ Wounds of this nature are not to be cur’d
With balms, but corrosives. I must be plain: 135
Art thou scarce manumis’d[4029] from the porter’s lodge[4030]
And yet sworn servant to the pantofle.[4031]
And dar’st thou dream of marriage? I fear
’T will be concluded for impossible
That there is now, or e’er shall be hereafter, 140
A handsome page or player’s boy of fourteen
But either loves a wench, or drabs love him;
Court-waiters not exempted.
_All._ This is madness.
Howe’er you have discover’d my intents,
You know my aims are lawful; and if ever 145
The queen of flowers, the glory of the spring,
The sweetest comfort to our smell, the rose,
Sprang from an envious briar, I may infer
There ’s such disparity in their conditions 149
Between the goodness of my soul, the daughter,
And the base churl of her father.
_Well._ Grant this true,
As I believe it, canst thou ever hope
To enjoy a quiet bed with her whose father
Ruin’d thy state?
_All._ And yours too.
_Well._ I confess it; 154
True; I must tell you as a friend, and freely,
That, where impossibilities are apparent,
’T is indiscretion to nourish hopes.
Canst thou imagine (let not self-love blind thee)
That Sir Giles Overreach, that, to make her great 159
In swelling titles, without touch of conscience
Will cut his neighbour’s throat, and I hope his own too,
Will e’er consent to make her thine? Give o’er,
And think of some course suitable to thy rank,
And prosper in it.
_All._ You have well advis’d me. 164
But in the meantime you that are so studious
Of my affairs wholly neglect your own.
Remember yourself, and in what plight you are.
_Well._ No matter, no matter.
_All._ Yes, ’t is much material.
You know my fortune and my means; yet something
I can spare from myself to help your wants.
_Well._ How’s this? 170
_All._ Nay, be not angry; there ’s eight pieces
To put you in better fashion.
_Well._ Money from thee!
From a boy. A stipendiary! One that lives
At the devotion of a stepmother
And the uncertain favour of a lord! 175
I’ll eat my arms first. Howsoe’er blind Fortune
Hath spent the utmost of her malice on me——
Though I am vomited out of an alehouse,
And thus accoutred—know not where to eat,
Or drink, or sleep, but underneath this canopy—[4032] 180
Although I thank thee, I despise thy offer;
And as I in my madness broke my state
Without th’ assistance of another’s brain,
In my right wits I’ll piece it; at the worst, 184
Die thus and be forgotten.
_All._ A strange humour! _Exeunt._
SCENE II.[4033]
[_Enter_] ORDER, AMBLE, FURNACE, _and_ WATCHALL.
_Ord._ Set all things right, or, as my name is Order,
And by this staff of office that commands you,
This chain and double ruff, symbols of power,
Whoever misses in his function,
For one whole week makes forfeiture of his breakfast 5
And privilege in the wine-cellar.
_Amb._ You are merry,
Good master steward.
_Furn._ Let him; I’ll be angry.
_Amb._ Why, fellow Furnace, ’t is not twelve o’clock yet,
Nor dinner taking up; then, ’t is allow’d,
Cooks, by their places, may be choleric. 10
_Furn._ You think you have spoke wisely, goodman Amble,
My lady’s go-before!
_Ord._ Nay, nay, no wrangling.
_Furn._ Twit me with the authority of the kitchen!
At all hours, and all places, I’ll be angry;
And thus provok’d, when I am at my prayers 15
I will be angry.
_Amb._ There was no hurt meant.
_Furn._ I am friends with thee; and yet I will be angry.
_Ord._ With whom?
_Furn._ No matter whom: yet, now I think on it,
I am angry with my lady.
_Watch._ Heaven forbid, man!
_Ord._ What cause has she given thee?
_Furn._ Cause enough, master steward. 20
I was entertain’d by her to please her palate,
And, till she forswore eating, I perform’d it.
Now, since our master, noble Allworth, died,
Though I crack my brains to find out tempting sauces,
And raise fortifications in the pastry 25
Such as might serve for models in the Low Countries,
Which, if they had been practised at Breda,
Spinola might have thrown his cap at it, and ne’er took it[4034]——
_Amb._ But you had wanted matter there to work on.
_Furn._ Matter! with six eggs, and a strike[4035] of rye meal, 30
I had kept the town till doomsday, perhaps longer.
_Ord._ But what ’s this to your pet against my lady?
_Furn._ What ’s this? Marry this: when I am three parts roasted
And the fourth part parboil’d to prepare her viands,
She keeps her chamber, dines with a panada[4036] 35
Or water-gruel, my sweat never thought on.
_Ord._ But your art is seen in the dining-room.
_Furn._ By whom?
By such as pretend love to her, but come
To feed upon her. Yet, of all the harpies
That do devour her, I am out of charity 40
With none so much as the thin-gutted squire
That ’s stolen into commission.
_Ord._ Justice Greedy?
_Furn._ The same, the same; meat ’s cast away upon him,
It never thrives; he holds this paradox,
Who eats not well, can ne’er do justice well. 45
His stomach ’s as insatiate as the grave,
Or strumpet’s ravenous appetites. _Knocking._
_Watch._ One knocks.
_Enter_ ALLWORTH.
_Ord._ Our late young master!
_Amb._ Welcome, sir.
_Furn._ Your hand;
If you have a stomach, a cold bake-meat ’s ready.
_Ord._ His father’s picture in little.
_Furn._ We are all your servants. 50
_Amb._ In you he lives.
_All._ At once, my thanks to all;
This is yet some comfort. Is my lady stirring?
_Enter_ LADY ALLWORTH, Waiting Woman, _and_ Chambermaid.
_Ord._ Her presence answers for us.
_L. All._ Sort those silks well.
I ’ll take the air alone. _Exeunt_ W. Woman _and_ Chambermaid.
_Furn._ You air and air;
But will you never taste but spoon-meat more?
To what use serve I?
_L. All._ Prithee, be not angry; 56
I shall ere long: i’ the mean time, there is gold
To buy thee aprons, and a summer suit.
_Furn._ I am appeas’d, and Furnace now grows cool.[4037]
_L. All._ And, as I gave directions, if this morning 60
I am visited by any, entertain ’em
As heretofore; but say, in my excuse,
I am indispos’d.
_Ord._ I shall, madam.
_L. All._ Do, and leave them.
Nay, stay you, Allworth.
_Exeunt_ ORDER, AMBLE, FURNACE, _and_ WATCHALL.
_All._ I shall gladly grow here,
To wait on your commands.
_L. All._ So soon turn’d courtier! 65
_All._ Style not that courtship, madam, which is duty
Purchas’d on your part.
_L. All._ Well, you shall o’ercome;
I ’ll not contend in words. How is it with
Your noble master?
_All._ Ever like himself,
No scruple lessen’d in the full weight of honour. 70
He did command me, pardon my presumption,
As his unworthy deputy, to kiss
Your ladyship’s fair hands.
_L. All._ I am honour’d in
His favour to me. Does he hold his purpose
For the Low Countries?
_All._ Constantly, good madam; 75
But he will in person first present his service.
_L. All._ And how approve you of his course? You are yet
Like virgin parchment, capable of any
Inscription, vicious or honourable.
I will not force your will, but leave you free 80
To your own election.
_All._ Any form you please
I will put on; but, might I make my choice,
With humble emulation I would follow
The path my lord marks to me.
_L. All._ ’T is well answer’d,
And I commend your spirit. You had a father,
Blest be his memory! that some few hours 86
Before the will of Heaven took him from me,
Who did commend you, by the dearest ties
Of perfect love between us, to my charge;
And, therefore, what I speak you are bound to hear 90
With such respect as if he liv’d in me.
He was my husband, and howe’er you are not
Son of my womb, you may be of my love,
Provided you deserve it.
_All._ I have found you,
Most honour’d madam, the best mother to me;
And, with my utmost strengths of care and service, 96
Will labour that you never may repent
Your bounties shower’d upon me.
_L. All._ I much hope it.
These were your father’s words: “If e’er my son
Follow the war, tell him it is a school 100
Where all the principles tending to honour
Are taught, if truly followed: but for such
As repair thither as a place in which
They do presume they may with license practise
Their lusts and riots, they shall never merit 105
The noble name of soldiers. To dare boldly
In a fair cause, and for their country’s safety
To run upon the cannon’s mouth undaunted;
To obey their leaders, and shun mutinies;
To bear with patience the winter’s cold 110
And summer’s scorching heat, and not to faint,
When plenty of provision fails, with hunger;
Are the essential parts make up a soldier,
Not swearing, dice, or drinking.”
_All._ There ’s no syllable
You speak, but is to me an oracle, 115
Which but to doubt were impious.
_L. All._ To conclude:
Beware ill company, for often men
Are like to those with whom they do converse;
And, from one man I warn[4038] you, and that ’s Wellborn:
Not ’cause he ’s poor, that rather claims your pity; 120
But that he ’s in his manners so debauch’d,
And hath to vicious courses sold himself.
’T is true, your father lov’d him, while he was
Worthy the loving; but if he had liv’d
To have seen him as he is, he had cast him off,
As you must do.
_All._ I shall obey in all things. 126
_L. All._ Follow me to my chamber, you shall have gold
To furnish you like my son, and still supplied,
As I hear from you.
_All._ I am still your creature. _Exeunt._
SCENE III.[4039]
[_Enter_] OVERREACH, GREEDY, ORDER, AMBLE, FURNACE, WATCHALL, _and_
MARRALL.
_Greedy._ Not to be seen!
_Over._ Still cloistered up! Her reason,
I hope, assures her, though she make herself
Close prisoner ever for her husband’s loss,
’T will not recover him.
_Ord._ Sir, it is her will.
Which we, that are her servants, ought to serve it, 5
And not dispute. Howe’er, you are nobly welcome;
And, if you please to stay, that you may think so,
There came, not six days since, from Hull, a pipe
Of rich Canary, which shall spend itself
For my lady’s honour.
_Greedy._ Is it of the right race? 10
_Ord._ Yes, Master Greedy.
_Amb._ How his mouth runs o’er!
_Furn._ I ’ll make it run, and run. Save your good worship!
_Greedy._ Honest Master Cook, thy hand; again, how I love thee!
Are the good dishes still in being? Speak, boy.
_Furn._ If you have a mind to feed, there is a chine[4040] 15
Of beef, well seasoned.
_Greedy._ Good!
_Furn._ A pheasant, larded.
_Greedy._ That I might now give thanks for ’t!
_Furn._ Other kickshaws,
Besides, there came last night, from the forest of Sherwood,
The fattest stag I ever cook’d.
_Greedy._ A stag, man!
_Furn._ A stag, sir; part of it prepar’d for dinner, 20
And bak’d in puff-paste.
_Greedy._ Puff-paste too! Sir Giles,
A ponderous chine of beef! a pheasant larded!
And red deer too, Sir Giles, and bak’d in puff-paste!
All business set aside, let us give thanks here.
_Furn._ How the lean skeleton ’s rapt!
_Over._ You know we cannot. 25
_Mar._ Your worships are to sit on a commission,
And if you fail to come, you lose the cause.
_Greedy._ Cause me no causes. I ’ll prove ’t, for such dinner
We may put off a commission: you shall find it
_Henrici decimo quarto_.
_Over._ Fie, Master Greedy! 30
Will you lose me a thousand pounds for a dinner?
No more, for shame! We must forget the belly
When we think of profit.
_Greedy._ Well, you shall o’er-rule me;
I could ev’n cry now.—Do you hear, Master Cook,
Send but a corner of that immortal pasty, 35
And I, in thankfulness, will, by your boy,
Send you—a brace of three-pences.
_Furn._ Will you be so prodigal?
_Enter_ WELLBORN.
_Over._ Remember me to your lady. Who have we here?
_Well._ You know me.
_Over._ I did once, but now I will not;
Thou art no blood of mine. Avaunt, thou beggar! 40
If ever thou presume to own me more,
I ’ll have thee cag’d and whipp’d.
_Greedy._ I ’ll grant the warrant.
Think of Pie-corner. Furnace!
_Exeunt_ OVERREACH, GREEDY, _and_ MARRALL.
_Watch._ Will you out, sir?
I wonder how you durst creep in.
_Ord._ This is rudeness,
And saucy impudence.
_Amb._ Cannot you stay 45
To be serv’d, among your fellows, from the basket,[4041]
But you must needs press into the hall?
_Furn._ Prithee, vanish
Into some outhouse, though it be the pigstye;
My scullion shall come to thee.
_Enter_ ALLWORTH.
_Well._ This is rare.
Oh, here ’s Tom Allworth. Tom!
_All._ We must be strangers; 50
Nor would I have you seen here for a million. _Exit._
_Well._ Better and better. He contemns me too!
_Enter_ Waiting Woman _and_ Chambermaid.
_Woman._ Foh, what a smell ’s here! What thing ’s this?
_Cham._ A creature
Made out of the privy; let us hence, for love’s sake.
Or I shall swoon.
_Woman._ I begin to feel faint already. 55
_Exeunt_ W. Woman _and_ Chambermaid.
_Watch._ Will you know your way;
_Amb._ Or shall we teach it you,
By the head and shoulders?
_Well._ No; I will not stir;
Do you mark, I will not: let me see the wretch
That dares attempt to force me. Why, you slaves,
Created only to make legs,[4042] and cringe; 60
To carry in a dish, and shift a trencher;
That have not souls only to hope a blessing
Beyond black-jacks[4043] or flagons; you, that were born
Only to consume meat and drink, and batten[4044]
Upon reversions!—who advances? Who 65
Shews me the way?
_Ord._ My lady!
_Enter_ LADY ALLWORTH, Waiting Woman, _and_ Chambermaid.
_Cham._ Here ’s the monster.
_Woman._ Sweet madam, keep your glove to your nose.
_Cham._ Or let me
Fetch some perfumes may be predominant;
You wrong yourself else.
_Well._ Madam, my designs
Bear me to you.
_L. All._ To me!
_Well._ And though I have met with 70
But ragged entertainment from your grooms here,
I hope from you to receive that noble usage
As may become the true friend of your husband,
And then I shall forget these.
_L. All._ I am amaz’d
To see and hear this rudeness. Dar’st thou think, 75
Though sworn, that it can ever find belief,
That I, who to the best men of this country
Deni’d my presence since my husband’s death,
Can fall so low as to change words with thee?
Thou son of infamy, forbear my house, 80
And know and keep the distance that ’s between us;
Or, though it be against my gentler temper,
I shall take order you no more shall be
An eyesore to me.
_Well._ Scorn me not, good lady;
But, as in form you are angelical, 85
Imitate the heavenly natures, and vouchsafe
At the least awhile to hear me. You will grant
The blood that runs in this arm is as noble
As that which fills your veins; those costly jewels,
And those rich clothes you wear, your men’s observance 90
And women’s flattery, are in you no virtues,
Nor these rags, with my poverty, in me vices.
You have a fair fame, and, I know, deserve it;
Yet, lady, I must say, in nothing more
Than in the pious sorrow you have shewn 95
For your late noble husband.
_Ord._ How she starts!
_Furn._ And hardly can keep finger from the eye,
To hear him nam’d.
_L. All._ Have you aught else to say?
_Well._ That husband, madam, was once in his fortune 99
Almost as low as I; want, debts, and quarrels
Lay heavy on him: let it not be thought
A boast in me, though I say I reliev’d him.
’T was I that gave him fashion; mine the sword
That did on all occasions second his;
I brought him on and off with honour, lady; 105
And when in all men’s judgments he was sunk,
And, in his own hopes, not to be buoy’d[4045] up,
I stepp’d unto him, took him by the hand,
And set him upright.
_Furn._ Are not we base rogues,
That could forget this?
_Well._ I confess, you made him 110
Master of your estate; nor could your friends,
Though he brought no wealth with him, blame you for ’t;
For he had a shape, and to that shape a mind
Made up of all parts either great or noble;
So winning a behaviour, not to be 115
Resisted, madam.
_L. All._ ’T is most true, he had.
_Well._ For his sake, then, in that I was his friend,
Do not contemn me.
_L. All._ For what ’s past excuse me,
I will redeem it. Order, give the gentleman
A hundred pounds.
_Well._ No, madam, on no terms: 120
I will nor beg nor borrow sixpence of you,
But be suppli’d elsewhere, or want thus ever.
Only one suit I make, which you deny not
To strangers; and ’t is this. _Whispers to her._
_L. All._ Fie! nothing else?
_Well._ Nothing, unless you please to charge your servants 125
To throw away a little respect upon me.
_L. All._ What you demand is yours.
_Well._ I thank you, lady.
Now what can be wrought out of such a suit
Is yet in supposition: I have said all;
When you please, you may retire.— [_Exit_ LADY ALL.]
Nay, all ’s forgotten; [_To the_ Servants.]
And, for a lucky omen to my project, 131
Shake hands, and end all quarrels in the cellar.
_Ord._ Agreed, agreed.
_Furn._ Still merry Master Wellborn. _Exeunt._
ACT II
SCENE I.[4046]
_Enter_ OVERREACH _and_ MARRALL.
_Over._ He ’s gone, I warrant thee; this commission crush’d him.
_Mar._ Your worships have the way on ’t, and ne’er miss
To squeeze these unthrifts into air; and yet,
The chapfallen[4047] justice did his part, returning
For your advantage the certificate, 5
Against his conscience, and his knowledge too,
With your good favour, to the utter ruin
Of the poor farmer.
_Over._ ’T was for these good ends
I made him a justice; he that bribes his belly,
Is certain to command his soul.
_Mar._ I wonder, 10
Still with your license, why your worship having
The power to put his thin-gut in commission,
You are not in ’t yourself?
_Over._ Thou art a fool;
In being out of office I am out of danger;
Where, if I were a justice, besides the trouble,
I might, or out of wilfulness or error, 16
Run myself finely into a _premunire_,[4048]
And so become a prey to the informer.
No, I ’ll have none of ’t; ’t is enough I keep
Greedy at my devotion; so he serve 20
My purposes, let him hang or damn, I care not;
Friendship is but a word.
_Mar._ You are all wisdom.
_Over._ I would be worldly wise; for the other wisdom,
That does prescribe us a well govern’d life,
And to do right to others as ourselves, 25
I value not an atom.
_Mar._ What course take you,
With your good patience, to hedge in the manor
Of your neighbour, Master Frugal? as ’t is said
He will nor sell, nor borrow, nor exchange;
And his land, lying in the midst of your many lordships, 30
Is a foul blemish.
_Over._ I have thought on ’t, Marrall,
And it shall take. I must have all men sellers,
And I the only purchaser.
_Mar._ ’T is most fit, sir.
_Over._ I ’ll therefore buy some cottage near his manor,
Which done, I ’ll make my men break ope his fences, 35
Ride o’er his standing corn, and in the night
Set fire on his barns, or break his cattle’s legs.
These trespasses draw on suits and suits expenses,
Which I can spare, but will soon beggar him.
When I have harried him thus two or three year, 40
Though he sue in _forma pauperis_, in spite
Of all his thrift and care, he ’ll grow behindhand.
_Mar._ The best I ever heard! I could adore you.
_Over._ Then, with the favour of my man of law,
I will pretend some title. Want will force him
To put it to arbitrement; then, if he sell 46
For half the value, he shall have ready money,
And I possess his land.
_Mar._ ’T is above wonder!
Wellborn was apt to sell, and needed not
Those fine arts, sir, to hook him in.
_Over._ Well thought on. 50
This varlet, Marrall, lives too long, to upbraid me
With my close cheat upon him. Will nor cold
Nor hunger kill him?
_Mar._ I know not what to think on ’t.
I have us’d all means; and the last night I caus’d 54
His host, the tapster, to turn him out of doors;
And have been since with all your friends and tenants,
And, on the forfeit of your favour, charg’d them,
Though a crust of mouldy bread would keep him from starving,
Yet they should not relieve him. This is done, sir.
_Over._ That was something, Marrall; but thou must go further, 60
And suddenly, Marrall.
_Mar._ Where, and when you please, sir.
_Over._ I would have thee seek him out, and, if thou canst,
Persuade him that ’t is better steal than beg;
Then, if I prove he has but robb’d a henroost,
Not all the world shall save him from the gallows. 65
Do any thing to work him to despair;
And ’t is thy masterpiece.
_Mar._ I will do my best, sir.
_Over._ I am now on my main work with the Lord Lovell,
The gallant-minded, popular Lord Lovell,
The minion of the people’s love. I hear 70
He ’s come into the country, and my aims are
To insinuate myself into his knowledge,
And then invite him to my house.
_Mar._ I have you;
This points at my young mistress.
_Over._ She must part with
That humble title, and write honourable,
Right honourable, Marrall, my right honourable daughter, 76
If all I have, or e’er shall get, will do it.
I ’ll have her well attended; there are ladies
Of errant knights decay’d and brought so low,
That for cast clothes and meat will gladly serve her. 80
And ’t is my glory, though I come from the city,
To have their issue whom I have undone,
To kneel to mine as bondslaves.
_Mar._ ’T is fit state, sir.
_Over._ And therefore, I ’ll not have a chambermaid
That ties her shoes, or any meaner office, 85
But such whose fathers were right worshipful.
’T is a rich man’s pride! there having ever been
More than a feud, a strange antipathy,
Between us and true gentry.
_Enter_ WELLBORN.
_Mar._ See, who ’s here, sir.
_Over._ Hence, monster! prodigy!
_Well._ Sir, your wife’s nephew; 90
She and my father tumbled in one belly.
_Over._ Avoid my sight! thy breath’s infectious, rogue!
I shun thee as a leprosy, or the plague.
Come hither, Marrall—[_aside_] this is the time to work him. _Exit._
_Mar._ I warrant you, sir.
_Well._ By this light I think he ’s mad. 95
_Mar._ Mad! had you ta’en compassion on yourself,
You long since had been mad.
_Well._ You have ta’en a course,
Between you and my venerable uncle,
To make me so.
_Mar._ The more pale-spirited you,
That would not be instructed. I swear deeply—— 100
_Well._ By what?
_Mar._ By my religion.
_Well._ Thy religion!
The devil’s creed:—but what would you have done?
_Mar._ Had there been but one tree in all the shire,
Nor any hope to compass a penny halter,
Before, like you, I had outliv’d my fortunes, 105
A withe had serv’d my turn to hang myself.
I am zealous in your cause; pray you hang yourself,
And presently,[4049] as you love your credit.
_Well._ I thank you.
_Mar._ Will you stay till you die in a ditch, or lice devour you?——
Or, if you dare not do the feat yourself, 110
But that you ’ll put the state to charge and trouble,
Is there no purse to be cut, house to be broken,
Or market-woman with eggs, that you may murder,
And so dispatch the business?
_Well._ Here ’s variety,
I must confess; but I ’ll accept of none 115
Of all your gentle offers, I assure you.
_Mar._ Why, have you hope ever to eat again,
Or drink? or be the master of three farthings?
If you like not hanging, drown yourself! Take some course
For your reputation.
_Well._ ’T will not do, dear tempter, 120
With all the rhetoric the fiend hath taught you,
I am as far as thou art from despair;
Nay, I have confidence, which is more than hope,
To live, and suddenly, better than ever.
_Mar._ Ha! ha! these castles you build in the air 125
Will not persuade me to give or lend
A token to you.
_Well._ I ’ll be more kind to thee:
Come, thou shalt dine with me.
_Mar._ With you!
_Well._ Nay more, dine gratis.
_Mar._ Under what hedge, I pray you? or at whose cost?
Are they padders[4050] or abram-men[4051] that are your consorts? 130
_Well._ Thou art incredulous; but thou shalt dine
Not alone at her house, but with a gallant lady;
With me, and with a lady.
_Mar._ Lady! what lady?
With the Lady of the Lake, or Queen of Fairies?
For I know it must be an enchanted dinner. 135
_Well._ With the Lady Allworth, knave.
_Mar._ Nay, now there ’s hope
Thy brain is crack’d.
_Well._ Mark there, with what respect
I am entertain’d.
_Mar._ With choice, no doubt, of dog-whips.
Why, dost thou ever hope to pass her porter?
_Well._ ’T is not far off, go with me; trust thine own eyes. 140
_Mar._ Troth, in my hope, or my assurance rather,
To see thee curvet[4052] and mount like a dog in a blanket,
If ever thou presume to pass her threshold,
I will endure thy company.
_Well._ Come along then. _Exeunt._
SCENE II.[4053]
[_Enter_] ALLWORTH, Waiting Woman, Chambermaid, ORDER, AMBLE, FURNACE,
_and_ WATCHALL.
_Woman._ Could you not command your leisure one hour longer?
_Cham._ Or half an hour?
_All._ I have told you what my haste is:
Besides, being now another’s, not mine own,
Howe’er I much desire to enjoy you longer,
My duty suffers, if, to please myself, 5
I should neglect my lord.
_Woman._ Pray you do me the favour
To put these few quince-cakes into your pocket;
They are of mine own preserving.
_Cham._ And this marmalade;
’T is comfortable for your stomach.
_Woman._ And, at parting,
Excuse me if I beg a farewell from you. 10
_Cham._ You are still before me. I move the same suit, sir.
[ALLWORTH] _kisses them severally._
_Furn._ How greedy these chamberers are of a beardless chin!
I think the tits[4054] will ravish him.
_All._ My service
To both.
_Woman._ Ours waits on you.
_Cham._ And shall do ever.
_Ord._ You are my lady’s charge, be therefore careful 15
That you sustain your parts.
_Woman._ We can bear, I warrant you.
_Exeunt_ W. Woman _and_ Chambermaid.
_Furn._ Here, drink it off; the ingredients are cordial,
And this the true elixir; it hath boil’d
Since midnight for you. ’T is the quintessence
Of five cocks of the game, ten dozen of sparrows, 20
Knuckles of veal, potato-roots and marrow,
Coral and ambergris. Were you two years older,
And I had a wife, or gamesome mistress,
I durst trust you with neither. You need not bait
After this, I warrant you, though your journey ’s long; 25
You may ride on the strength of this till tomorrow morning.
_All._ Your courtesies overwhelm me: I much grieve
To part from such true friends; and yet find comfort,
My attendance on my honourable lord,
Whose resolution holds to visit my lady, 30
Will speedily bring me back.
_Knocking at the gate._
_Mar._ (_within._) Dar’st thou venture further?
_Well._ (_within._) Yes, yes, and knock again.
_Ord._ ’T is he; disperse!
_Amb._ Perform it bravely.
_Furn._ I know my cue, ne’er doubt me.
_Exeunt_ [_all but_ ALLWORTH].
[_Enter_ WATCHALL, _ceremoniously introducing_ WELLBORN _and_ MARRALL.]
_Watch._ Beast that I was, to make you stay! Most welcome; 34
You were long since expected.
_Well._ Say so much
To my friend, I pray you.
_Watch._ For your sake, I will, sir.
_Mar._ For his sake!
_Well._ Mum; this is nothing.
_Mar._ More than ever
I would have believ’d, though I had found it in my primer.
_All._ When I have given your reasons for my late harshness,
You ’ll pardon and excuse me; for, believe me, 40
Though now I part abruptly, in my service
I will deserve it.
_Mar._ Service! with a vengeance!
_Well._ I am satisfied: farewell, Tom.
_All._ All joy stay with you! _Exit._
_Re-enter_ AMBLE.
_Amb._ You are happily encounter’d; I yet never
Presented one so welcome as I know 45
You will be to my lady.
_Mar._ This is some vision,
Or, sure, these men are mad, to worship a dunghill;
It cannot be a truth.
_Well._ Be still a pagan,
An unbelieving infidel; be so, miscreant,
And meditate on “blankets, and on dog-whips!” 50
_Re-enter_ FURNACE.
_Furn._ I am glad you are come; until I know your pleasure
I knew not how to serve up my lady’s dinner.
_Mar._ His pleasure! is it possible?
_Well._ What ’s thy will?
_Furn._ Marry, sir, I have some grouse, and turkey chicken,
Some rails[4055] and quails, and my lady will’d me ask you, 55
What kind of sauces best affect your palate,
That I may use my utmost skill to please it.
_Mar._ [_Aside._] The devil ’s enter’d this cook. Sauce for his palate!
That, on my knowledge, for almost this twelve-month,
Durst wish but cheese-parings and brown bread on Sundays. 60
_Well._ That way I like ’em best.
_Furn._ It shall be done, sir. _Exit._
_Well._ What think you of “the hedge we shall dine under?”
Shall we feed gratis?
_Mar._ I know not what to think;
Pray you make me not mad.
_Re-enter_ ORDER.
_Ord._ This place becomes you not; 64
Pray you walk, sir, to the dining room.
_Well._ I am well here,
Till her ladyship quits her chamber.
_Mar._ Well here, say you?
’T is a rare change! But yesterday you thought
Yourself well in a barn, wrapp’d up in peas-straw.
_Re-enter_ Waiting Woman _and_ Chambermaid.
_Woman._ O! sir, you are wish’d for.
_Cham._ My lady dreamt, sir, of you.
_Woman._ And the first command she gave, after she rose, 70
Was (her devotions done) to give her notice
When you approach’d here.
_Cham._ Which is done, on my virtue.
_Mar._ I shall be converted; I begin to grow
Into a new belief, which saints nor angels 74
Could have won me to have faith in.
_Woman._ Sir, my lady!
_Enter_ LADY ALLWORTH.
_L. All._ I come to meet you, and languish’d till I saw you.
This first kiss is for form; I allow a second
To such a friend. [_Kisses_ WELLBORN.]
_Mar._ To such a friend! Heaven bless me!
_Well._ I am wholly yours; yet, madam, if you please
To grace this gentleman with a salute—— 80
_Mar._ Salute me at his bidding!
_Well._ I shall receive it
As a most high favour.
_L. All._ Sir, you may command me.
[_Advances to kiss_ MARRALL, _who retires_.]
_Well._ Run backward from a lady! and such a lady!
_Mar._ To kiss her foot is, to poor me, a favour
I am unworthy of. _Offers to kiss her foot._
_L. All._ Nay, pray you rise; 85
And since you are so humble, I ’ll exalt you.
You shall dine with me to-day, at mine own table.
_Mar._ Your ladyship’s table! I am not good enough
To sit at your steward’s board.
_L. All._ You are too modest;
I will not be deni’d.
_Re-enter_ FURNACE.
_Furn._ Will you still be babbling 90
Till your meat freeze on the table? The old trick still;
My art ne’er thought on!
_L. All._ Your arm, Master Wellborn:——
Nay, keep us company. [_To_ MARRALL.]
_Mar._ I was ne’er so grac’d.
_Exeunt_ WELLBORN, LADY ALLWORTH, AMBLE, MARRALL, W. Woman, [_and_
Chambermaid.]
_Ord._ So! we have play’d our parts, and are come off well;
But if I know the mystery, why my lady 95
Consented to it, or why Master Wellborn
Desir’d it, may I perish!
_Furn._ Would I had
The roasting of his heart that cheated him,
And forces the poor gentleman to these shifts!
By fire! for cooks are Persians, and swear by it, 100
Of all the griping and extorting tyrants
I ever heard or read of, I ne’er met
A match to Sir Giles Overreach.
_Watch._ What will you take
To tell him so, fellow Furnace?
_Furn._ Just as much
As my throat is worth, for that would be the price on ’t. 105
To have a usurer that starves himself,
And wears a cloak of one and twenty years
On a suit of fourteen groats, bought of the hangman,
To grow rich, and then purchase, is too common;
But this Sir Giles feeds high, keeps many servants, 110
Who must at his command do any outrage;
Rich in his habit, vast in his expenses;
Yet he to admiration[4056] still increases
In wealth and lordships.
_Ord._ He frights men out of their estates,
And breaks through all law-nets, made to curb ill men, 115
As they were cobwebs. No man dares reprove him,
Such a spirit to dare and power to do were never
Lodg’d so unluckily.
_Re-enter_ AMBLE [_laughing_].
_Amb._ Ha! ha! I shall burst.
_Ord._ Contain thyself, man.
_Furn._ Or make us partakers
Of your sudden mirth.
_Amb._ Ha! ha! my lady has got 120
Such a guest at her table!—this term-driver, Marrall,
This snip of an attorney——
_Furn._ What of him, man?
_Amb._ The knave thinks still he ’s at the cook’s shop
in Ram Alley,[4057]
Where the clerks divide, and the elder is to choose;
And feeds so slovenly!
_Furn._ Is this all?
_Amb._ My lady 125
Drank to him for fashion sake, or to please Master Wellborn;
As I live, he rises, and takes up a dish
In which there were some remnants of a boil’d capon,
And pledges her in white broth!
_Furn._ Nay, ’t is like
The rest of his tribe.
_Amb._ And when I brought him wine, 130
He leaves his stool, and, after a leg or two,
Most humbly thanks my worship.
_Ord._ Risen already!
_Amb._ I shall be chid.
_Re-enter_ LADY ALLWORTH, WELLBORN, _and_ MARRALL.
_Furn._ My lady frowns.
_L. All._ You wait well! [_To_ AMBLE]
Let me have no more of this: I observ’d your jeering.
Sirrah, I ’ll have you know, whom I think worthy 135
To sit at my table, be he ne’er so mean,
When I am present, is not your companion.
_Ord._ Nay, she ’ll preserve what ’s due to her.
_Furn._ This refreshing
Follows your flux of laughter.
_L. All._ [_to_ WELLBORN.] You are master
Of your own will. I know so much of manners,
As not to inquire your purposes; in a word, 141
To me you are ever welcome, as to a house
That is your own.
_Wel._ [_Aside to_ MARRALL.] Mark that.
_Mar._ With reverence, sir,
An it like your worship.
_Well._ Trouble yourself no further,
Dear madam; my heart ’s full of zeal and service, 145
However in my language I am sparing.
Come, Master Marrall.
_Mar._ I attend your worship.
_Exeunt_ WELLBORN _and_ MARRALL.
_L. All._ I see in your looks you are sorry, and you know me
An easy mistress. Be merry; I have forgot all.
Order and Furnace, come with me; I must give you 150
Further directions.
_Ord._ What you please,
_Furn._ We are ready. _Exeunt._
SCENE III.[4058]
[_Enter_] WELLBORN, _and_ MARRALL [_bareheaded_].
_Well._ I think I am in a good way.
_Mar._ Good! Sir, the best way,
The certain best way.
_Well._ There are casualties
That men are subject to.
_Mar._ You are above ’em;
And as you are already worshipful,
I hope ere long you will increase in worship, 5
And be right worshipful.
_Well._ Prithee do not flout me:
What I shall be, I shall be. Is ’t for your ease,
You keep your hat off?
_Mar._ Ease! an it like your worship!
I hope Jack Marrall shall not live so long,
To prove himself such an unmannerly beast, 10
Though it hail hazel-nuts, as to be cover’d
When your worship ’s present.
_Well._ (_Aside._) Is not this a true rogue,
That, out of mere hope of a future coz’nage,[4059]
Can turn thus suddenly? ’T is rank already.
_Mar._ I know your worship’s wise, and needs no counsel, 15
Yet if, in my desire to do you service,
I humbly offer my advice, (but still
Under correction,) I hope I shall not
Incur your high displeasure.
_Well._ No; speak freely.
_Mar._ Then, in my judgment, sir, my simple judgment, 20
(Still with your worship’s favour,) I could wish you
A better habit, for this cannot be
But much distasteful to the noble lady
(I say no more) that loves you; for, this morning,
To me, and I am but a swine to her, 25
Before th’ assurance of her wealth perfum’d you,
You savour’d not of amber.[4060]
_Well._ I do now then!
_Mar._ This your batoon hath got a touch of it.——
_Kisses the end of his cudgel._
Yet, if you please, for change, I have twenty pounds here,
Which, out of my true love, I ’ll presently 30
Lay down at your worship’s feet; ’t will serve to buy you
A riding suit.
_Well._ But where ’s the horse?
_Mar._ My gelding
Is at your service; nay, you shall ride me,
Before your worship shall be put to the trouble
To walk afoot. Alas, when you are lord 35
Of this lady’s manor, as I know you will be,
You may with the lease of glebe land, called Knave’s-acre,
A place I would manure,[4061] requite your vassal.
_Well._ I thank thy love, but must make no use of it;
What ’s twenty pounds?
_Mar._ ’T is all that I can make, sir. 40
_Well._ Dost thou think, though I want clothes, I could not have ’em,
For one word to my lady?
_Mar._ As I know not that!
_Well._ Come, I will tell thee a secret, and so leave thee.
I will not give her the advantage, though she be
A gallant-minded lady, after we are married, 45
(There being no woman but is sometimes froward,)
To hit me in the teeth, and say, she was forc’d
To buy my wedding-clothes, and took me on
With a plain riding-suit, and an ambling nag.
No, I ’ll be furnish’d something like myself, 50
And so farewell: for thy suit touching Knave’s-acre,
When it is mine, ’t is thine.
_Mar._ I thank your worship. _Exit_ WELL.
How was I cozen’d[4062] in the calculation
Of this man’s fortune! My master cozen’d too,
Whose pupil I am in the art of undoing men; 55
For that is our profession! Well, well, Master Wellborn,
You are of a sweet nature, and fit again to be cheated:
Which, if the Fates please, when you are possess’d
Of the land and lady, you, sans question, shall be.
I ’ll presently think of the means. _Walks by, musing._
_Enter_ OVERREACH, [_speaking to a_ Servant _within._]
_Over._ Sirrah, take my horse, 60
I ’ll walk to get me an appetite; ’t is but a mile,
And exercise will keep me from being pursy.[4063]
Ha! Marrall! Is he conjuring? Perhaps
The knave has wrought the prodigal to do
Some outrage on himself, and now he feels 65
Compunction in his conscience for ’t: no matter.
So it be done. Marrall!
_Mar._ Sir.
_Over._ How succeed we
In our plot on Wellborn?
_Mar._ Never better, sir.
_Over._ Has he hang’d or drown’d himself?
_Mar._ No, sir, he lives;
Lives once more to be made a prey to you, 70
A greater prey than ever.
_Over._ Art thou in thy wits?
If thou art, reveal this miracle, and briefly.
_Mar._ A lady, sir, is fall’n in love with him.
_Over._ With him? What lady?
_Mar._ The rich Lady Allworth.
_Over._ Thou dolt! how dar’st thou speak this?
_Mar._ I speak truth; 75
And I do so but once a year, unless
It be to you, sir. We din’d with her ladyship,
I thank his worship.
_Over._ His worship!
_Mar._ As I live, sir,
I din’d with him, at the great lady’s table,
Simple as I stand here; and saw when she kiss’d him, 80
And would, at his request, have kiss’d me too:
But I was not so audacious as some youths are,
That dare do anything, be it ne’er so absurd,
And sad after performance.
_Over._ Why, thou rascal!
To tell me these impossibilities. 85
Dine at her table! and kiss him! or thee!——
Impudent varlet, have not I myself,
To whom great countesses’ doors have oft flew open,
Ten times attempted, since her husband’s death,
In vain, to see her, though I came—a suitor?
And yet your good solicitorship, and rogue Wellborn, 91
Were brought into her presence, feasted with her!——
But that I know thee a dog that cannot blush,
This most incredible lie would call up one
On thy buttermilk cheeks.
_Mar._ Shall I not trust my eyes, sir, 95
Or taste? I feel her good cheer in my belly.
_Over._ You shall feel me, if you give not over, sirrah:
Recover your brains again, and be no more gull’d
With a beggar’s plot, assisted by the aids
Of serving-men and chambermaids, for beyond these 100
Thou never saw’st a woman, or I ’ll quit you
From my employments.
_Mar._ Will you credit this yet?
On my confidence of their marriage, I offer’d Wellborn——
(_Aside._) I would give a crown now I durst say “his worship”——
My nag and twenty pounds.
_Over._ Did you so, idiot! (_Strikes him down._)
Was this the way to work him to despair, 106
Or rather to cross me?
_Mar._ Will your worship kill me?
_Over._ No, no; but drive the lying spirit out of you.
_Mar._ He ’s gone.
_Over._ I have done then: now, forgetting
Your late imaginary feast and lady, 110
Know, my Lord Lovell dines with me to-morrow.
Be careful nought be wanting to receive him;
And bid my daughter’s women trim her up,
Though they paint her, so she catch the lord, I ’ll thank them.
There ’s a piece for my late blows.
_Mar._ (_Aside._) I must yet suffer: 115
But there may be a time——
_Over._ Do you grumble?
_Mar._ No, sir. [_Exeunt._]
ACT III
SCENE I.[4064]
[_Enter_ LORD] LOVELL, ALLWORTH, _and_ Servants.
_Lov._ Walk the horses down the hill: something in private
I must impart to Allworth. _Exeunt_ Servants.
_All._ O, my lord,
What a sacrifice of reverence, duty, watching,
Although I could put off the use of sleep,
And ever wait on your commands to serve ’em; 5
What dangers, though in ne’er so horrid shapes,
Nay death itself, though I should run to meet it,
Can I, and with a thankful willingness, suffer!
But still the retribution will fall short
Of your bounties shower’d upon me.
_Lov._ Loving youth, 10
Till what I purpose be put into act,
Do not o’erprize it; since you have trusted me
With your soul’s nearest, nay, her dearest secret,
Rest confident ’t is in a cabinet lock’d
Treachery shall never open. I have found you 15
(For so much to your face I must profess,
Howe’er you guard your modesty with a blush for ’t)
More zealous in your love and service to me
Than I have been in my rewards.
_All._ Still great ones,
Above my merit.
_Lov._ Such your gratitude calls ’em; 20
Nor am I of that harsh and rugged temper
As some great men are tax’d[4065] with, who imagine
They part from the respect due to their honours
If they use not all such as follow ’em, 24
Without distinction of their births, like slaves.
I am not so condition’d; I can make
A fitting difference between my foot boy
And a gentleman by want compell’d to serve me.
_All._ ’T is thankfully acknowledg’d: you have been
More like a father to me than a master. 30
Pray you, pardon the comparison.
_Lov._ I allow it:
And, to give you assurance I am pleas’d in ’t,
My carriage and demeanour to your mistress,
Fair Margaret, shall truly witness for me
I can command my passions.
_All._ ’T is a conquest 35
Few lords can boast of when they are tempted—Oh!
_Lov._ Why do you sigh? Can you be doubtful of me?
By that fair name I in the wars have purchas’d,
And all my actions, hitherto untainted,
I will not be more true to mine own honour 40
Than to my Allworth!
_All._ As you are the brave Lord Lovell,
Your bare word only given is an assurance
Of more validity and weight to me
Than all the oaths, bound up with imprecations,
Which, when they would deceive, most courtiers practise; 45
Yet being a man, (for, sure, to style you more
Would relish of gross flattery,) I am forc’d,
Against my confidence of your worth and virtues,
To doubt, nay, more, to fear.
_Lov._ So young, and jealous!
_All._ Were you to encounter with a single foe,
The victory were certain; but to stand 51
The charge of two such potent enemies,
At once assaulting you, as wealth and beauty,
And those too seconded with power, is odds
Too great for Hercules.
_Lov._ Speak your doubts and fears, 55
Since you will nourish ’em, in plainer language,
That I may understand them.
_All._ What ’s your will,
Though I lend arms against myself, (provided
They may advantage you,) must be obeyed.
My much-lov’d lord, were Margaret only fair, 60
The cannon of her more than earthly form,
Though mounted high, commanding all beneath it,
And ramm’d with bullets of her sparkling eyes,
Of all the bulwarks that defend your senses
Could batter none, but that which guards your sight. 65
But when the well-tun’d accents of her tongue
Make music to you, and with numerous[4066] sounds
Assault your hearing, (such as if Ulysses
Now liv’d again, howe’er he stood the Syrens,
Could not resist,) the combat must grow doubtful 70
Between your reason and rebellious passions.
Add this too; when you feel her touch, and breath
Like a soft western wind when it glides o’er
Arabia, creating gums and spices;
And, in the van, the nectar of her lips, 75
Which you must taste, bring the battalia on,
Well arm’d, and strongly lin’d[4067] with her discourse,
And knowing manners, to give entertainment;—
Hippolytus himself would leave Diana,
To follow such a Venus.
_Lov._ Love hath made you 80
Poetical, Allworth.
_All._ Grant all these beat off,
Which if it be in man to do, you ’ll do it,
Mammon, in Sir Giles Overreach, steps in
With heaps of ill-got gold, and so much land,
To make her more remarkable, as would tire 85
A falcon’s wings in one day to fly over.
O my good lord! these powerful aids, which would
Make a mis-shapen negro beautiful,
(Yet are but ornaments to give her lustre,
That in herself is all perfection,) must 90
Prevail for her. I here release your trust;
’T is happiness enough for me to serve you
And sometimes, with chaste eyes, to look upon her.
_Lov._ Why, shall I swear?
_All._ O, by no means, my lord;
And wrong not so your judgment to the world
As from your fond indulgence to a boy, 96
Your page, your servant, to refuse a blessing
Divers great men are rivals for.
_Lov._ Suspend
Your judgment till the trial. How far is it
To Overreach’s house?
_All._ At the most, some half hour’s riding; 100
You ’ll soon be there.
_Lov._ And you the sooner freed
From your jealous fears.
_All._ O that I durst but hope it! _Exeunt._
SCENE II.[4068]
[_Enter_] OVERREACH, GREEDY, _and_ MARRALL.
_Over._ Spare for no cost; let my dressers crack with the weight
Of curious viands.
_Greedy._ “Store indeed ’s no sore,” sir.
_Over._ That proverb fits your stomach, Master Greedy.
And let no plate be seen but what ’s pure gold,
Or such whose workmanship exceeds the matter 5
That it is made of; let my choicest linen
Perfume the room, and, when we wash, the water,
With precious powders mix’d, so please my lord
That he may with envy wish to bathe so ever.
_Mar._ ’T will be very chargeable.
_Over._ Avaunt, you drudge! 10
Now all my labour’d ends are at the stake,
Is ’t a time to think of thrift? Call in my daughter.
[_Exit_ MARRALL.]
And, Master Justice, since you love choice dishes,
And plenty of ’em——
_Greedy._ As I do, indeed, sir,
Almost as much as to give thanks for ’em. 15
_Over._ I do confer that providence,[4069] with my power
Of absolute command to have abundance,
To your best care.
_Greedy._ I ’ll punctually discharge it,
And give the best directions. Now am I,
In mine own conceit, a monarch; at the least,
Arch-president of the boil’d, the roast, the bak’d; 21
For which I will eat often, and give thanks
When my belly ’s brac’d up like a drum, and that ’s pure justice.
_Exit._
_Over._ It must be so. Should the foolish girl prove modest,
She may spoil all; she had it not from me, 25
But from her mother: I was ever forward,
As she must be, and therefore I ’ll prepare her.
[_Enter_] MARGARET.
Alone—and let your women wait without.
_Marg._ Your pleasure, sir?
_Over._ Ha! this is a neat dressing!
These orient pearls and diamonds well plac’d too! 30
The gown affects me not, it should have been
Embroider’d o’er and o’er with flowers of gold;
But these rich jewels and quaint fashion help it.
And how below? since oft the wanton eye
The face observ’d, descends unto the foot, 35
Which being well proportion’d, as yours is,
Invites as much as perfect white and red,
Though without art. How like you your new woman,
The Lady Downfall’n?
_Marg._ Well, for a companion;
Not as a servant.
_Over._ Is she humble, Meg, 40
And careful too, her ladyship forgotten?
_Marg._ I pity her fortune.
_Over._ Pity her! trample on her.
I took her up in an old tamin[4070] gown,
(Even starv’d for want of twopenny chops,) to serve thee;
And if I understand she but repines 45
To do thee any duty, though ne’er so servile,
I ’ll pack her to her knight, where I have lodg’d him,
Into the Counter[4071] and there let ’em howl together.
_Marg._ You know your own ways; but for me, I blush
When I command her, that was once attended
With persons not inferior to myself 51
In birth.
_Over._ In birth! why, art thou not my daughter,
The blest child of my industry and wealth?
Why, foolish girl, was ’t not to make thee great
That I have run, and still pursue, those ways 55
That hale down curses on me, which I mind not?
Part with these humble thoughts, and apt[4072] thyself
To the noble state I labour to advance thee;
Or, by my hopes to see thee honourable,
I will adopt a stranger to my heir, 60
And throw thee from my care. Do not provoke me.
_Marg._ I will not, sir; mould me which way you please.
_Re-enter_ GREEDY.
_Over._ How! Interrupted!
_Greedy._ ’T is matter of importance.
The cook, sir, is self-will’d, and will not learn
From my experience. There ’s a fawn brought in, sir, 65
And, for my life, I cannot make him roast it
With a Norfolk dumpling in the belly of it;
And, sir, we wise men know, without the dumpling
’T is not worth three-pence.
_Over._ Would it were whole in thy belly,
To stuff it out! Cook it any way; prithee, leave me. 70
_Greedy._ Without order for the dumpling?
_Over._ Let it be dumpl’d
Which way thou wilt; or tell him, I will scald him
In his own caldron.
_Greedy._ I had lost my stomach
Had I lost my mistress dumpling; I ’ll give thanks for ’t.
[_Exit._]
_Over._ But to our business, Meg; you have heard who dines here? 75
_Marg._ I have, sir.
_Over._ ’T is an honourable man;
A lord, Meg, and commands a regiment
Of soldiers, and, what ’s rare, is one himself,
A bold and understanding one; and to be
A lord and a good leader, in one volume, 80
Is granted unto few but such as rise up
The kingdom’s glory.
_Re-enter_ GREEDY.
_Greedy._ I ’ll resign my office,
If I be not better obey’d.
_Over._ ’Slight, art thou frantic?
_Greedy._ Frantic! ’T would make me frantic and stark mad,
Were I not a justice of peace and quorum too,
Which this rebellions cook cares not a straw for. 86
There are a dozen of woodcocks——
_Over._ Make thyself
Thirteen, the baker’s dozen.
_Greedy._ I am contented,
So they may be dress’d to my mind; he has found out
A new device for sauce, and will not dish ’em
With toasts and butter. My father was a tailor, 91
And my name, though a justice, Greedy Woodcock;
And, ere I ’ll see my lineage so abus’d,
I ’ll give up my commission.
_Over._ [_loudly._] Cook!—Rogue, obey him!
I have given the word, pray you now remove yourself 95
To a collar of brawn,[4073] and trouble me no further.
_Greedy._ I will, and meditate what to eat at dinner. _Exit._
_Over._ And as I said, Meg, when this gull[4074] disturb’d us,
This honourable lord, this colonel,
I would have thy husband.
_Marg._ There ’s too much disparity 100
Between his quality and mine, to hope it.
_Over._ I more than hope’t, and doubt not to effect it.
Be thou no enemy to thyself, my wealth
Shall weight his titles down, and make you equals.
Now for the means to assure him thine, observe me: 105
Remember he ’s a courtier and a soldier,
And not to be trifled with; and, therefore, when
He comes to woo you, see you do not coy it:
This mincing modesty has spoil’d many a match
By a first refusal, in vain after hop’d for. 110
_Marg._ You ’ll have me, sir, preserve the distance that
Confines a virgin?
_Over._ Virgin me no virgins!
I must have you lose that name, or you lose me.
I will have you private—start not—I say, private;
If thou art my true daughter, not a bastard, 115
Thou wilt venture alone with one man, though he came
Like Jupiter to Semele, and come off, too;
And therefore, when he kisses you, kiss close.
_Marg._ I have heard this is the strumpet’s fashion, sir,
Which I must never learn.
_Over._ Learn any thing, 120
And from any creature that may make thee great;
From the devil himself.
_Marg._ [_Aside._] This is but devilish doctrine!
_Over._ Or, if his blood grow hot, suppose he offer
Beyond this, do not you stay till it cool,
But meet his ardour; if a couch be near, 125
Sit down on ’t, and invite him.
_Marg._ In your house,
Your own house, sir! For Heaven’s sake, what are you then?
Or what shall I be, sir?
_Over._ Stand not on form;
Words are no substances.
_Marg._ Though you could dispense
With your own honour, cast aside religion, 130
The hopes of Heaven, or fear of hell, excuse me,
In worldly policy this is not the way
To make me his wife; his whore, I grant it may do.
My maiden honour so soon yielded up,
Nay, prostituted, cannot but assure him 135
I, that am light to him, will not hold weight
Whene’er[4075] tempted by others; so, in judgment,
When to his lust I have given up my honour,
He must and will forsake me.
_Over._ How! forsake thee!
Do I wear a sword for fashion? or is this arm
Shrunk up or wither’d? Does there live a man 141
Of that large list I have encounter’d with
Can truly say I e’er gave inch of ground
Not purchas’d with his blood that did oppose me?
Forsake thee when the thing is done! He dares not. 145
Give me but proof he has enjoy’d thy person,
Though all his captains, echoes to his will,
Stood arm’d by his side to justify the wrong,
And he himself in the head of his bold troop,
Spite of his lordship, and his colonelship, 150
Or the judge’s favour, I will make him render
A bloody and a strict account, and force him,
By marrying thee, to cure thy wounded honour!
I have said it.
_Re-enter_ MARRALL.
_Mar._ Sir, the man of honour ’s come,
Newly alighted.
_Over._ In, without reply. 155
And do as I command, or thou art lost. _Exit_ MARGARET.
Is the loud music I gave order for
Ready to receive him?
_Mar._ ’T is, sir.
_Over._ Let ’em sound
A princely welcome. [_Exit_ MARRALL.] Roughness awhile leave me;
For fawning now, a stranger to my nature, 160
Must make way for me.
_Loud music_. _Enter_ LORD LOVELL, GREEDY, ALLWORTH, _and_ MARRALL.
_Lov._ Sir, you meet your trouble.
_Over._ What you are pleas’d to style so is an honour
Above my worth and fortunes.
_All._ [_Aside._] Strange, so humble.
_Over._ A justice of peace, my lord. _Presents_ GREEDY _to him._
_Lov._ Your hand, good sir.
_Greedy._ [_Aside._] This is a lord, and some think this a favour; 165
But I had rather have my hand in my dumpling.
_Over._ Room for my lord.
_Lov._ I miss, sir, your fair daughter
To crown my welcome.
_Over._ May it please my lord
To taste a glass of Greek wine first, and suddenly
She shall attend my lord.
_Lov._ You ’ll be obey’d, sir. _Exeunt all but_ OVERREACH. 170
_Over._ ’T is to my wish: as soon as come, ask for her!
Why, Meg! Meg Overreach.—
[_Re-enter_ MARGARET.]
How! tears in your eyes!
Hah! dry ’em quickly, or I ’ll dig ’em out.
Is this a time to whimper? Meet that greatness
That flies into thy bosom, think what ’t is 175
For me to say, “My honourable daughter;”
And thou, when I stand bare, to say, “Put on;”
Or, “Father, you forget yourself.” No more:
But be instructed, or expect——He comes.
_Re-enter_ LORD LOVELL, Greedy, ALLWORTH, _and_ MARRALL.
A black-brow’d girl, my lord,
_Lov._ As I live, a rare one. _They salute._ 180
_All._ [_Aside._] He ’s took already: I am lost.
_Over._ [_Aside._] That kiss
Came twanging off, I like it.—Quit the room.
[_Exeunt all but_ OVERREACH, LOVELL, _and_ MARGARET.]
A little bashful, my good lord, but you,
I hope, will teach her boldness.
_Lov._ I am happy
In such a scholar: but——
_Over._ I am past learning, 185
And therefore leave you to yourselves.—Remember!
_Aside to_ MARGARET _and exit._
_Lov._ You see, fair lady, your father is solicitous
To have you change the barren name of virgin
Into a hopeful wife.
_Marg._ His haste, my lord,
Holds no power o’er my will.
_Lov._ But o’er your duty. 190
_Marg._ Which forc’d too much, may break.
_Lov._ Bend rather, sweetest:
Think of your years.
_Marg._ Too few to match with yours:
And choicest fruits too soon pluck’d, rot and wither.
_Lov._ Do you think I am old?
_Marg._ I am sure I am too young.
_Lov._ I can advance you.
_Marg._ To a hill of sorrow, 195
Where every hour I may expect to fall,
But never hope firm footing. You are noble,
I of a low descent, however rich;
And tissues match’d with scarlet[4076] suit but ill.
O, my good lord. I could say more, but that 200
I dare not trust these walls.
_Lov._ Pray you, trust my ear then.
_Re-enter_ OVERREACH [_behind_], _listening_.
_Over._ Close at it! whispering! this is excellent!
And, by their postures, a consent on both parts.
_Re-enter_ GREEDY _behind._
_Greedy._ Sir Giles, Sir Giles!
_Over._ The great fiend stop that clapper!
_Greedy._ It must ring out, sir, when my belly rings noon. 205
The bak’d-meats are run out, the roasts turn’d powder.
_Over._ I shall powder you.
_Greedy._ Beat me to dust, I care not;
In such a cause as this, I’ll die a martyr.
_Over._ Marry, and shall, you barathrum[4077] of the shambles!
_Strikes him._
_Greedy._ How! strike a justice of peace! ’T is petty treason. 210
_Edwardi quinto:_ but that you are my friend,
I would commit you without bail or main-prize.[4078]
_Over._ Leave your bawling, sir, or I shall commit you
Where you shall not dine to-day. Disturb my lord,
When he is in discourse!
_Greedy._ Is ’t a time to talk 215
When we should be munching!
_Lov._ Hah! I heard some noise.
_Over._ Mum, villain; vanish! Shall we break a bargain
Almost made up? _Thrusts_ GREEDY _off_.
_Lov._ Lady, I understand you.
And rest most happy in your choice, believe it;
I ’ll be a careful pilot to direct 220
Your yet uncertain bark to a port of safety.
_Marg._ So shall your honour save two lives, and bind us
Your slaves for ever.
_Lov._ I am in the act rewarded,
Since it is good; howe’er, you must put on
An amorous carriage towards me to delude 225
Your subtle father.
_Marg._ I am prone to that.
_Lov._ Now break we off our conference.—Sir Giles!
Where is Sir Giles? [OVERREACH _comes forward._]
_Re-enter_ ALLWORTH, MARRALL, _and_ GREEDY.
_Over._ My noble lord; and how
Does your lordship find her?
_Lov._ Apt, Sir Giles, and coming;
And I like her the better.
_Over._ So do I too. 230
_Love._ Yet should we take forts at the first assault,
’T were poor in the defendant; I must confirm her
With a love-letter or two, which I must have
Deliver’d by my page, and you give way to ’t.
_Over._ With all my soul:—a towardly gentleman! 235
Your hand, good Master Allworth: know my house
Is ever open to you.
_All._ (_Aside._) ’T was shut till now.
_Over._ Well done, well done, my honourable daughter!
Thou ’rt so already. Know this gentle youth,
And cherish him, my honourable daughter. 240
_Marg._ I shall, with my best care. _Noise within, as of a coach._
_Over._ A coach!
_Greedy._ More stops
Before we go to dinner! O my guts!
_Enter_ LADY ALLWORTH _and_ WELLBORN.
_L. All._ If I find welcome,
You share in it; if not, I ’ll back again,
Now I know your ends; for I come arm’d for all
Can be objected.
_Lov._ How! the Lady Allworth! 245
_Over._ And thus attended!
LOVELL _salutes_ LADY ALLWORTH, LADY ALLWORTH _salutes_ MARGARET.
_Mar._ No, “I am a dolt!
The spirit of lies had ent’red me!”
_Over._ Peace, Patch;[4079]
’T is more than wonder! an astonishment
That does possess me wholly!
_Lov._ Noble lady,
This is a favour, to prevent[4080] my visit, 250
The service of my life can never equal.
_L. All._ My lord, I laid wait for you, and much hop’d
You would have made my poor house your first inn:
And therefore doubting that you might forget me,
Or too long dwell here, having such ample cause, 255
In this unequall’d beauty, for your stay,
And fearing to trust any but myself
With the relation of my service to you,
I borrow’d so much from my long restraint
And took the air in person to invite you. 260
_Lov._ Your bounties are so great, they rob me, madam,
Of words to give you thanks.
_L. All._ Good Sir Giles Overreach. _Salutes him._
—How dost thou, Marrall? Lik’d you my meat so ill,
You ’ll dine no more with me?
_Greedy._ I will, when you please, 264
An it like[4081] your ladyship.
_L. All._ When you please, Master Greedy;
If meat can do it, you shall be satisfied.
And now, my lord, pray take into your knowledge
This gentleman; howe’er his outside ’s coarse, _Presents_ WELLBORN.
His inward linings are as fine and fair 269
As any man’s; wonder not I speak at large:
And howsoe’er his humour carries him
To be thus accoutred, or what taint soever,
For his wild life, hath stuck upon his fame,
He may ere long, with boldness, rank himself
With some that have contemn’d him. Sir Giles Overreach, 275
If I am welcome, bid him so.
_Over._ My nephew!
He has been too long a stranger. Faith you have,
Pray let it be mended. LOVELL _confers aside with_ WELLBORN.
_Mar._ Why, sir, what do you mean?
This is “rogue Wellborn, monster, prodigy,
That should hang or drown himself;” no man of worship, 280
Much less your nephew.
_Over._ Well, sirrah, we shall reckon
For this hereafter.
_Mar._ I ’ll not lose my jeer,
Though I be beaten dead for ’t.
_Well._ Let my silence plead
In my excuse, my lord, till better leisure
Offer itself to hear a full relation 285
Of my poor fortunes.
_Lov._ I would hear, and help ’em.
_Over._ Your dinner waits you.
_Lov._ Pray you lead, we follow.
_L. All._ Nay, you are my guest; come, dear Master Wellborn.
_Exeunt all but_ GREEDY.
_Greedy._ “Dear Master Wellborn!” so she said: Heaven! Heaven!
If my belly would give me leave, I could ruminate 290
All day on this. I have granted twenty warrants
To have him committed, from all prisons in the shire,
To Nottingham gaol; and now “Dear Master Wellborn!”
And, “My good nephew!”—but I play the fool 294
To stand here prating, and forget my dinner.
_Re-enter_ MARRALL.
Are they set, Marrall?
_Mar._ Long since; pray you a word, sir.
_Greedy._ No wording now.
_Mar._ In troth, I must. My master,
Knowing you are his good friend, makes bold with you,
And does entreat you, more guests being come in
Than he expected, especially his nephew, 300
The table being full too, you would excuse him,
And sup with him on the cold meat.
_Greedy._ How! No dinner,
After all my care?
_Mar._ ’T is but a penance for
A meal; besides, you broke your fast.
_Greedy._ That was
But a bit to stay my stomach. A man in commission 305
Give place to a tatterdemalion!
_Mar._ No bug[4082] words, sir;
Should his worship hear you——
_Greedy._ Lose my dumpling too,
And butter’d toasts, and woodcocks!
_Mar._ Come, have patience.
If you will dispense a little with your worship,
And sit with the waiting women, you ’ll have dumpling, 310
Woodcock, and butter’d toasts too.
_Greedy._ This revives me:
I will gorge there sufficiently.
_Mar._ This is the way, sir. _Exeunt._
SCENE III.[4083]
[_Enter_] OVERREACH, _as from dinner_.
_Over._ She ’s caught! O women!—she neglects my lord,
And all her compliments appli’d to Wellborn!
The garments of her widowhood laid by,
She now appears as glorious as the spring,
Her eyes fix’d on him, in the wine she drinks, 5
He being her pledge, she sends him burning kisses,
And sits on thorns, till she be private with him.
She leaves my meat to feed upon his looks,
And if in our discourse he be but nam’d,
From her a deep sigh follows. And why grieve I 10
At this? It makes for me; if she prove his,
All that is hers is mine, as I will work him.
_Enter_ MARRALL.
_Mar._ Sir, the whole board is troubled at your rising.
_Over._ No matter, I ’ll excuse it. Prithee, Marrall,
Watch an occasion to invite my nephew 15
To speak with me in private.
_Mar._ Who? “The rogue
The lady scorn’d to look on”?
_Over._ You are a wag.
_Enter_ LADY ALLWORTH _and_ WELLBORN.
_Mar._ See, sir, she’s come, and cannot be without him.
_L. All._ With your favour, sir, after a plenteous dinner,
I shall make bold to walk a turn or two, 20
In your rare garden.
_Over._ There ’s an arbour too,
If your ladyship please to use it.
_L. All._ Come, Master Wellborn.
_Exeunt_ LADY ALLWORTH _and_ WELLBORN.
_Over._ Grosser and grosser! Now I believe the poet
Feign’d not, but was historical, when he wrote
Pasiphae was enamour’d of a bull: 25
This lady’s lust ’s more monstrous.—My good lord,
_Enter_ LORD LOVELL, MARGARET, _and the rest_.
Excuse my manners.
_Lov._ There needs none, Sir Giles,
I may ere long say father, when it pleases
My dearest mistress to give warrant to it.
_Over._ She shall seal to it, my lord, and make me happy. 30
_Re-enter_ WELLBORN _and_ LADY ALLWORTH.
_Marg._ My lady is return’d.
_L. All._ Provide my coach,
I ’ll instantly away. My thanks, Sir Giles,
For my entertainment.
_Over._ ’T is your nobleness
To think it such.
_L. All._ I must do vou a further wrong
In taking away your honourable guest. 35
_Lov._ I wait on you, madam; farewell, good Sir Giles.
_L. All._ Good Mistress Margaret! Nay, come, Master Wellborn,
I must not leave you behind; in sooth, I must not.
_Over._ Rob me not, madam, of all joys at once;
Let my nephew stay behind. He shall have my coach, 40
And, after some small conference between us,
Soon overtake your ladyship.
_L. All._ Stay not long, sir.
_Lov._ This parting kiss: [_kisses_ MARGARET] you shall every day
hear from me,
By my faithful page.
_All._ ’T is a service I am proud of.
_Exeunt_ LORD LOVELL, LADY ALLWORTH, ALLWORTH, _and_ MARRALL.
_Over._ Daughter, to your chamber.— _Exit_ MARGARET.
—You may wonder, nephew, 45
After so long an enmity between us,
I should desire your friendship.
_Well._ So I do, sir;
’T is strange to me.
_Over._ But I ’ll make it no wonder;
And what is more, unfold my nature to you.
We worldly men, when we see friends and kinsmen 50
Past hopes sunk in their fortunes, lend no hand
To lift ’em up, but rather set our feet
Upon their heads, to press ’em to the bottom;
As, I must yield,[4084] with you I practis’d it:
But, now I see you in a way to rise, 55
I can and will assist you. This rich lady
(And I am glad of ’t) is enamour’d of you;
’T is too apparent, nephew.
_Well._ No such thing:
Compassion rather, sir.
_Over._ Well, in a word, 59
Because your stay is short, I ’ll have you seen
No more in this base shape; nor shall she say
She married you like a beggar, or in debt.
_Well._ (_Aside._) He ’ll run into the noose, and save my labour.
_Over._ You have a trunk of rich clothes, not far hence,
In pawn; I will redeem ’em; and that no clamour 65
May taint your credit for your petty debts,
You shall have a thousand pounds to cut ’em off,
And go a free man to the wealthy lady.
_Well._ This done, sir, out of love, and no ends else——
_Over._ As it is, nephew.
_Well._ Binds me still your servant. 70
_Over._ No compliments; you are staid for. Ere you have supp’d
You shall hear from me. My coach, knaves, for my nephew.
To-morrow I will visit you.
_Well._ Here’s an uncle
In a man ’s extremes! How much they do belie you,
That say you are hard-hearted!
_Over._ My deeds, nephew, 75
Shall speak my love; what men report I weigh not. _Exeunt._
ACT IV
SCENE I.[4085]
[_Enter_ LORD] LOVELL _and_ ALLWORTH.
_Lov._ ’Tis well; give me my cloak; I now discharge you
From further service. Mind your own affairs;
I hope they will prove successful.
_All._ What is blest
With your good wish, my lord, cannot but prosper.
Let aftertimes report, and to your honour, 5
How much I stand engag’d, for I want language
To speak my debt; yet if a tear or two
Of joy, for your much goodness, can supply
My tongue’s defects, I could——
_Lov._ Nay, do not melt:
This ceremonial thanks to me ’s superfluous. 10
_Over._ (_within._) Is my lord stirring?
_Lov._ ’Tis he! oh, here’s your letter. Let him in.
_Enter_ OVERREACH, GREEDY, _and_ MARRALL.
_Over._ A good day to my lord!
_Lov._ You are an early riser,
Sir Giles.
_Over._ And reason, to attend your lordship. 15
_Lov._ And you, too, Master Greedy, up so soon!
_Greedy._ In troth, my lord, after the sun is up,
I cannot sleep, for I have a foolish stomach
That croaks for breakfast. With your lordship’s favour,
I have a serious question to demand 20
Of my worthy friend Sir Giles.
_Lov._ Pray you use your pleasure.
_Greedy._ How far, Sir Giles, and pray you answer me
Upon your credit, hold you it to be
From your manor-house, to this of my Lady’s Allworth’s?
_Over._ Why, some four mile.
_Greedy._ How! four mile, good Sir Giles——
Upon your reputation, think better; 26
For if you do abate but one half-quarter
Of five, you do yourself the greatest wrong
That can be in the world; for four miles riding
Could not have rais’d so huge an appetite 30
As I feel gnawing on me.
_Mar._ Whether you ride,
Or go afoot, you are that way still provided,
An it please your worship.
_Over._ How now, sirrah? Prating
Before my lord! No difference? Go to my nephew,
See all his debts discharg’d, and help his worship 35
To fit on his rich suit.
_Mar._ [_Aside._] I may fit you too.
Toss’d like a dog still! _Exit._
_Lov._ I have writ this morning
A few lines to my mistress, your fair daughter.
_Over._ ’T will fire her, for she’s wholly yours already.—
Sweet Master Allworth, take my ring; ’t will carry you 40
To her presence, I dare warrant you; and there plead
For my good lord, if you shall find occasion.
That done, pray ride to Nottingham, get a licence,
Still by this token. I’ll have it dispatch’d,
And suddenly, my lord, that I may say, 45
My honourable, nay, right honourable daughter.
_Greedy._ Take my advice, young gentleman, get your breakfast;
’Tis unwholesome to ride fasting. I’ll eat with you,
And eat to purpose.
_Over._ Some Fury’s in that gut;
Hungry again! Did you not devour, this morning, 50
A shield of brawn, and a barrel of Colchester oysters?
_Greedy._ Why, that was, sir, only to scour my stomach,
A kind of a preparative. Come, gentleman,
I will not have you feed like the hangman of Flushing,
Alone, while I am here.
_Lov._ Haste your return. 55
_All._ I will not fail, my lord.
_Greedy._ Nor I, to line
My Christmas coffer. _Exeunt_ GREEDY _and_ ALLWORTH.
_Over._ To my wish: we are private.
I come not to make offer with my daughter
A certain portion,—that were poor and trivial:
In one word, I pronounce all that is mine, 60
In lands or leases, ready coin or goods,
With her, my lord, comes to you; nor shall you have
One motive to induce you to believe
I live too long, since every year I’ll add
Something unto the heap, which shall be yours too. 65
_Lov._ You are a right kind father.
_Over._ You shall have reason
To think me such. How do you like this seat?
It is well wooded, and well water’d, the acres
Fertile and rich; would it not serve for change,
To entertain your friends in a summer progress?
What thinks my noble lord?
_Lov._ ’Tis a wholesome air, 71
And well-built pile; and she that’s mistress of it,
Worthy the large revénue.
_Over._ She the mistress!
It may be so for a time: but let my lord
Say only that he likes it, and would have it, 75
I say, ere long ’t is his.
_Lov._ Impossible.
_Over._ You do conclude too fast, not knowing me,
Nor the engines[4086] that I work by. ’T is not alone
The Lady Allworth’s lands, for those once Wellborn’s 79
(As by her dotage on him I know they will be,)
Shall soon be mine; but point out any man’s
In all the shire, and say they lie convenient
And useful for your lordship, and once more
I say aloud, they are yours.
_Lov._ I dare not own
What ’s by unjust and cruel means extorted; 85
My fame and credit are more dear to me,
Than so to expose ’em to be censur’d by
The public voice.
_Over._ You run, my lord, no hazard.
Your reputation shall stand as fair,
In all good men’s opinions, as now; 90
Nor can my actions, though condemn’d for ill,
Cast any foul aspersion upon yours.
For, though I do contemn report myself
As a mere sound, I still will be so tender 94
Of what concerns you, in all points of honour,
That the immaculate whiteness of your fame,
Nor your unquestioned integrity,
Shall e’er be sullied with one taint or spot
That may take from your innocence and candour.[4087]
All my ambition is to have my daughter 100
Right honourable, which my lord can make her:
And might I live to dance upon my knee
A young Lord Lovell, borne by her unto you,
I write _nil ultra_[4088] to my proudest hopes.
As for possessions and annual rents, 105
Equivalent to maintain you in the port
Your noble birth and present state requires,
I do remove that burthen from your shoulders,
And take it on mine own: for, though I ruin
The country to supply your riotous waste, 110
The scourge of prodigals, want, shall never find you.
_Lov._ Are you not frighted with the imprecations
And curses of whole families, made wretched
By your sinister practices?
_Over._ Yes, as rocks are,
When foamy billows split themselves against
Their flinty ribs; or as the moon is mov’d 116
When wolves, with hunger pin’d, howl at her brightness.
I am of a solid temper, and, like these,
Steer on a constant course. With mine own sword, 119
If call’d into the field, I can make that right,
Which fearful enemies murmur’d at as wrong.
Now, for these other piddling complaints
Breath’d out in bitterness; as when they call me
Extortioner, tyrant, cormorant, or intruder 124
On my poor neighbour’s right, or grand incloser
Of what was common, to my private use;
Nay, when my ears are pierc’d with widows’ cries,
And undone orphans wash with tears my threshold,
I only think what ’tis to have my daughter 129
Right honourable; and ’tis a powerful charm
Makes me insensible of remorse, or pity,
Or the least sting of conscience.
_Lov._ I admire[4089]
The toughness of your nature.
_Over._ ’Tis for you,
My lord, and for my daughter, I am marble;
Nay more, if you will have my character 135
In little, I enjoy more true delight
In my arrival to my wealth these dark
And crooked ways, than you shall e’er take pleasure
In spending what my industry hath compass’d.
My haste commands me hence; in one word, therefore, 140
Is it a match?
_Lov._ I hope, that is past doubt now.
_Over._ Then rest secure; not the hate of all mankind here,
Nor fear of what can fall on me hereafter,
Shall make me study aught but your advancement
One story higher: an earl! if gold can do it. 145
Dispute not my religion, nor my faith;
Though I am borne thus headlong by my will,
You may make choice of what belief you please,
To me they are equal; so, my lord, good morrow. _Exit._
_Lov._ He’s gone—I wonder how the earth can bear 150
Such a portent! I, that have liv’d a soldier,
And stood the enemy’s violent charge undaunted,
To hear this blasphemous beast am bath’d all over
In a cold sweat: yet, like a mountain, he
(Confirm’d in atheistical assertions) 155
Is no more shaken than Olympus[4090] is
When angry Boreas loads his double head
With sudden drifts of snow.
_Enter_ LADY ALLWORTH, Waiting Woman, _and_ AMBLE.
_L. All._ Save you, my lord!
Disturb I not your privacy?
_Lov._ No, good madam;
For your own sake I am glad you came no sooner, 160
Since this bold bad man, Sir Giles Overreach,
Made such a plain discovery of himself,
And read this morning such a devilish matins,
That I should think it a sin next to his
But to repeat it.
_L. All._ I ne’er press’d, my lord, 165
On others’ privacies; yet, against my will,
Walking, for health’ sake, in the gallery
Adjoining to your lodgings, I was made
(So vehement and loud he was) partaker
Of his tempting offers.
_Lov._ Please you to command 170
Your servants hence, and I shall gladly hear
Your wiser counsel.
_L. All._ ’Tis, my lord, a woman’s,
But true and hearty;—wait in the next room,
But be within call; yet not so near to force me
To whisper my intents.
_Amb._ We are taught better 175
By you, good madam.
_W. Wom._ And well know our distance.
_L. All._ Do so, and talk not; ’t will become your breeding,
_Exeunt_ AMBLE _and_ W. Woman.
Now, my good lord; if I may use my freedom,
As to an honour’d friend——
_Lov._ You lessen else
Your favour to me.
_L. All._ I dare then say thus: 180
As you are noble (howe’er common men
Make sordid wealth the object and sole end
Of their industrious aims) ’t will not agree
With those of eminent blood, who are engag’d
More to prefer[4091] their honours than to increase
The state left to ’em by their ancestors, 185
To study large additions to their fortunes,
And quite neglect their births:—though I must grant,
Riches, well got, to be a useful servant,
But a bad master.
_Lov._ Madam, ’tis confessed; 190
But what infer you from it?
_L. All._ This, my lord;
That as all wrongs, though thrust into one scale,
Slide of themselves off when right fills the other
And cannot bide the trial; so all wealth,
I mean if ill-acquir’d, cemented to honour 195
By virtuous ways achiev’d, and bravely purchas’d,
Is but as rubbish pour’d into a river,
(Howe’er intended to make good the bank,)
Rendering the water, that was pure before,
Polluted and unwholesome. I allow 200
The heir of Sir Giles Overreach, Margaret,
A maid well qualified and the richest match
Our north part can make boast of; yet she cannot,
With all that she brings with her, fill their mouths,
That never will forget who was her father; 205
Or that my husband Allworth’s lands, and Wellborn’s,
(How wrung from both needs now no repetition,)
Were real motives that more work’d your lordship
To join your families, than her form and virtues:
You may conceive the rest.
_Lov._ I do, sweet madam, 210
And long since have consider’d it. I know,
The sum of all that makes a just man happy
Consists in the well choosing of his wife:
And there, well to discharge it, does require
Equality of years, of birth, of fortune; 215
For beauty being poor, and not cried up
By birth or wealth, can truly mix with neither.
And wealth, where there’s such difference in years,
And fair descent, must make the yoke uneasy:—
But I come nearer.
_L. All._ Pray you do, my lord. 220
_Lov._ Were Overreach’s states thrice centupl’d, his daughter
Millions of degrees much fairer than she is,
Howe’er I might urge precedents to excuse me,
I would not so adulterate my blood
By marrying Margaret, and so leave my issue
Made up of several pieces, one part scarlet, 226
And the other London blue. In my own tomb
I will inter my name first.
_L. All._ (_Aside._) I am glad to hear this.——
Why then, my lord, pretend you marriage to her?
Dissimulation but ties false knots 230
On that straight line by which you, hitherto,
Have measur’d all your actions.
_Lov._ I make answer,
And aptly, with a question. Wherefore have you,
That, since your husband’s death, have liv’d a strict
And chaste nun’s life, on the sudden given yourself 235
To visits and entertainments? Think you, madam,
’Tis not grown public conference?[4092] Or the favours
Which you too prodigally have thrown on Wellborn,
Being too reserv’d before, incur not censure?
_L. All._ I am innocent here; and, on my life, I swear 240
My ends are good.
_Lov._ On my soul, so are mine
To Margaret; but leave both to the event:
And since this friendly privacy does serve
But as an offer’d means unto ourselves,
To search each other farther, you having shewn
Your care of me, I my respect to you, 245
Deny me not, but still in chaste words, madam,
An afternoon’s discourse.
_L. All._ So I shall hear you. [_Exeunt._]
SCENE II.[4093]
[_Enter_] TAPWELL, _and_ FROTH.
_Tap._ Undone, undone! this was your counsel, Froth.
_Froth._ Mine! I defy thee. Did not Master Marrall
(He has marr’d all, I am sure) strictly command us,
On pain of Sir Giles Overreach’ displeasure,
To turn the gentleman out of doors?
_Tap._ ’Tis true; 5
But now he’s his uncle’s darling, and has got
Master Justice Greedy, since he fill’d his belly,
At his commandment, to do anything.
Woe, woe to us!
_Froth._ He may prove merciful. 9
_Tap._ Troth, we do not deserve it at his hands.
Though he knew all the passages of our house,
As the receiving of stolen goods, and bawdry,
When he was rogue Wellborn no man would believe him,
And then his information could not hurt us;
But now he is right worshipful again, 15
Who dares but doubt his testimony? Methinks,
I see thee, Froth, already in a cart,
For a close[4094] bawd, thine eyes ev’n pelted out
With dirt and rotten eggs; and my hand hissing
If I scape the halter, with the letter R[4095] 20
Printed upon it.
_Froth._ Would that were the worst!
That were but nine days’ wonder: as for credit,
We have none to lose, but we shall lose the money
He owes us, and his custom; there ’s the hell on ’t.
_Tap._ He has summon’d all his creditors by the drum, 25
And they swarm about him like so many soldiers
On the pay day: and has found out such A NEW WAY
TO PAY HIS OLD DEBTS, as ’t is very likely
He shall be chronicled for it!
_Froth._ He deserves it
More than ten pageants. But are you sure his worship 30
Comes this way, to my lady’s?
_A cry within_: Brave Master Wellborn!
_Tap._ Yes:—I hear him.
_Froth._ Be ready with your petition and present it
To his good grace.
_Enter_ WELLBORN _in a rich habit_, [MARRALL,] GREEDY, ORDER, FURNACE,
_and_ Creditors; TAPWELL _kneeling, delivers his bill of debt._
_Well._ How’s this? Petition’d to?
But note what miracles the payment of
A little trash, and a rich suit of clothes, 35
Can work upon these rascals! I shall be,
I think, Prince Wellborn.
_Mar._ When your worship’s married,
You may be—I know what I hope to see you.
_Well._ Then look thou for advancement.
_Mar._ To be known
Your worship’s bailiff, is the mark I shoot at.
_Well._ And thou shalt hit it.
_Mar._ Pray you, sir, despatch 41
These needy followers, and for my admittance,[4096]
Provided you ’ll defend me from Sir Giles,
Whose service I am weary of, I ’ll say something
You shall give thanks for.
_Well._ Fear me not Sir Giles.[4097] 45
_Greedy._ Who, Tapwell? I remember thy wife brought me
Last new-year’s tide, a couple of fat turkeys.
_Tap._ And shall do every Christmas, let your worship
But stand my friend now.
_Greedy._ How! with Master Wellborn?
I can do anything with him on such terms.—
See you this honest couple; they are good souls 51
As ever drew out faucet; have they not
A pair of honest faces?
_Well._ I o’erheard you,
And the bribe he promis’d. You are cozen’d in them;
For, by all the scum that grew rich by my riots,
This, for a most unthankful knave, and this, 55
For a base bawd and whore, have worst deserv’d me,
And therefore speak not for ’em. By your place
You are rather to do me justice. Lend me your ear;
—Forget his turkeys, and call in his license, 60
And, at the next fair, I ’ll give you a yoke of oxen
Worth all his poultry.
_Greedy._ I am chang’d on the sudden
In my opinion! Come near; nearer, rascal.
And, now I view him better, did you e’er see
One look so like an archknave? His very countenance, 65
Should an understanding judge but look upon him,
Would hang him, though he were innocent.
_Tap. Froth._ Worshipful sir.
_Greedy._ No, though the great Turk came, instead of turkeys,
To beg my favour, I am inexorable.
Thou hast an ill name: besides thy musty ale, 70
That hath destroy’d many of the king’s liege people,
Thou never hadst in thy house, to stay men’s stomachs,
A piece of Suffolk cheese or gammon of bacon,
Or any esculent, as the learned call it,
For their emolument, but sheer drink only, 75
For which gross fault I here do damn thy license,
Forbidding thee ever to tap or draw;
For, instantly, I will, in mine own person,
Command the constable to pull down thy sign,
And do it before I eat.
_Froth._ No mercy?
_Greedy._ Vanish! 80
If I shew any, may my promis’d oxen gore me!
_Tap._ Unthankful knaves are ever so rewarded.
_Exeunt_ GREEDY, TAPWELL, _and_ FROTH.
_Well._ Speak, what are you?
_1 Cred._ A decay’d vintner, sir,
That might have thriv’d, but that your worship broke me
With trusting you with muscadine[4098] and eggs,
And five pound suppers, with your after drinkings, 85
When you lodg’d upon the Bankside.
_Well._ I remember.
_1 Cred._ I have not been hasty, nor e’er laid to arrest you;
And therefore, sir——
_Well._ Thou art an honest fellow,
I’ll set thee up again; see his bill paid.— 90
What are you?
_2 Cred._ A tailor once, but now mere botcher.[4099]
I gave you credit for a suit of clothes,
Which was all my stock, but you failing in payment,
I was remov’d from the shopboard, and confin’d
Under a stall.
_Well._ See him paid;—and botch no more. 95
_2 Cred._ I ask no interest, sir.
_Well._ Such tailors need not;
If their bills are paid in one and twenty year,
They are seldom losers.—O, I know thy face, [_To_ Creditor.]
Thou wert my surgeon. You must tell no tales;
Those days are done. I will pay you in private.
_Ord._ A royal gentleman!
_Furn._ Royal as an emperor! 101
He’ll prove a brave master; my good lady knew
To choose a man.
_Well._ See all men else discharg’d;
And since old debts are clear’d by a new way,
A little bounty will not misbecome me; 105
There’s something, honest cook, for thy good breakfasts;
And this, for your respect: [_to_ ORDER] take’t, ’t is good gold,
And I able to spare it.
_Ord._ You are too munificent.
_Furn._ He was ever so.
_Well._ Pray you, on before.
_3 Cred._ Heaven bless you!
_Mar._ At four o’clock; the rest know where to meet me. 110
_Exeunt_ ORDER, FURNACE, _and_ Creditors.
_Well._ Now, Master Marrall, what’s the weighty secret
You promis’d to impart?
_Mar._ Sir, time nor place
Allow me to relate each circumstance;
This only, in a word: I know Sir Giles
Will come upon you for security 115
For his thousand pounds, which you must not consent to.
As he grows in heat, as I am sure he will,
Be you but rough, and say he’s in your debt
Ten times the sum, upon sale of your land;
I had a hand in’t (I speak it to my shame) 120
When you were defeated[4100] of it.
_Well._ That’s forgiven.
_Mar._ I shall deserve’t. Then urge him to produce
The deed in which you pass’d it over to him,
Which I know he’ll have about him, to deliver
To the Lord Lovell, with many other writings, 125
And present monies; I’ll instruct you further,
As I wait on your worship. If I play not my prize
To your full content, and your uncle’s much vexation,
Hang up Jack Marrall.
_Well._ I rely upon thee. _Exeunt._
SCENE III.[4101]
_Enter_ ALLWORTH _and_ MARGARET.
_All._ Whether to yield the first praise to my lord’s
Unequall’d temperance or your constant sweetness
That I yet live, my weak hands fasten’d on
Hope’s anchor, spite of all storms of despair,
I yet rest doubtful.
_Marg._ Give it to Lord Lovell: 5
For what in him was bounty, in me’s duty.
I make but payment of a debt to which
My vows, in that high office regist’red,
Are faithful witnesses.
_All._ ’T is true, my dearest:
Yet, when I call to mind how many fair ones 10
Make wilful shipwrecks of their faiths, and oaths
To God and man, to fill the arms of greatness,
And you rise up [no][4102] less than a glorious star,
To the amazement of the world,—hold out
Against the stern authority of a father, 15
And spurn at honour when it comes to court you;
I am so tender of your good, that faintly,
With your wrong, I can wish myself that right
You yet are pleas’d to do me.
_Marg._ Yet, and ever.
To me what’s title, when content is wanting? 20
Or wealth, rak’d up together with much care.
And to be kept with more, when the heart pines
In being dispossess’d of what it longs for
Beyond the Indian mines? or the smooth brow
Of a pleas’d sire, that slaves me to his will, 25
And, so his ravenous humour may be feasted
By my obedience, and he see me great,
Leaves to my soul nor faculties nor power
To make her own election?
_All._ But the dangers
That follow the repulse——
_Marg._ To me they are nothing; 30
Let Allworth love, I cannot be unhappy.
Suppose the worst, that, in his rage, he kill me,
A tear or two, by you dropt on my hearse
In sorrow for my fate, will call back life
So far as but to say, that I die yours; 35
I then shall rest in peace: or should he prove
So cruel, as one death would not suffice
His thirst of vengeance, but with ling’ring torments
In mind and body I must waste to air,
In poverty join’d with banishment; so you share 40
In my afflictions, which I dare not wish you,
So high I prize you, I could undergo ’em
With such a patience as should look down
With scorn on his worst malice.
_All._ Heaven avert
Such trials of your true affection to me! 45
Nor will it unto you, that are all mercy,
Shew so much rigour: but since we must run
Such desperate hazards, let us do our best
To steer between them.
_Marg._ Your lord’s ours, and sure:
And, though but a young actor, second me 50
In doing to the life what he has plotted.
_Enter_ OVERREACH [_behind_].
The end may yet prove happy. Now, my Allworth—
[_Seeing her father_.]
_All._ To your letter, and put on a seeming anger.
_Marg._ I’ll pay my lord all debts due to his title;
And when with terms, not taking from his honour, 55
He does solicit me, I shall gladly hear him.
But in this peremptory, nay, commanding way,
To appoint a meeting, and without my knowledge,
A priest to tie the knot can ne’er be undone
Till death unloose it, is a confidence 60
In his lordship will deceive him.
_All._ I hope better,
Good lady.
_Marg._ Hope, sir, what you please: for me
I must take a safe and secure course; I have
A father, and without his full consent,
Though all lords of the land kneel’d for my favor, 65
I can grant nothing.
_Over._ I like this obedience: [_Comes forward._]
But whatso’er my lord writes, must and shall be
Accepted and embrac’d. Sweet Master Allworth,
You shew yourself a true and faithful servant
To your good lord; he has a jewel of you. 70
How! frowning, Meg? Are these looks to receive
A messenger from my lord? What ’s this? Give me it.
_Marg._ A piece of arrogant paper, like th’ inscriptions.
_Over._ (_reads._) “Fair mistress, from your servant learn all joys
That we can hope for, if deferr’d, prove toys;[4103]
Therefore this instant, and in private, meet 76
A husband, that will gladly at your feet
Lay down his honours, tend’ring them to you
With all content, the church being paid her due.”
—Is this the arrogant piece of paper? Fool! 80
Will you still be one? In the name of madness what
Could his good honour write more to content you?
Is there aught else to be wish’d, after these two,
That are already offer’d; marriage first,
And lawful pleasure after: what would you more? 85
_Marg._ Why, sir, I would be married like your daughter;
Not hurried away i’ th’ night I know not whither,
Without all ceremony; no friends invited
To honour the solemnity.
_All._ An ’t please your honour,
For so before to-morrow I must style you, 90
My lord desires this privacy, in respect
His honourable kinsmen are afar off,
And his desires to have it done brook not
So long delay as to expect[4104] their coming;
And yet he stands resolv’d, with all due pomp, 95
As running at the ring, plays, masques, and tilting,
To have his marriage at court celebrated,
When he has brought your honour up to London.
_Over._ He tells you true: ’t is the fashion, on my knowledge:
Yet the good lord, to please your peevishness, 100
Must put it off, forsooth! and lose a night,
In which perhaps he might get two boys on thee.
Tempt me no further, if you do, this goad [_Points to his sword._]
Shall prick you to him.
_Marg._ I could be contented,
Were you but by, to do a father’s part, 105
And give me in the church.
_Over._ So my lord have you,
What do I care who gives you? Since my lord
Does purpose to be private, I ’ll not cross him.
I know not, Master Allworth, how my lord
May be provided, and therefore there’s a purse 110
Of gold, ’t will serve this night’s expense; tomorrow
I ’ll furnish him with any sums. In the mean time,
Use my ring to my chaplain; he is benefic’d
At my manor of Gotham, and call’d Parson Willdo.
’T is no matter for a licence, I ’ll bear him out in ’t; 115
_Marg._ With your favour, sir, what warrant is your ring?
He may suppose I got that twenty ways,
Without your knowledge; and then to be refus’d
Were such a stain upon me!—If you pleas’d, sir,
Your presence would do better.
_Over._ Still perverse! 120
I say again, I will not cross my lord;
Yet I ’ll prevent[4105] you too.—Paper and ink, there!
_All._ I can furnish you.
_Over._ I thank you, I can write then.
_Writes on his book._
_All._ You may, if you please, put out the name of my lord,
In respect he comes disguis’d, and only write, 125
“Marry her to this gentleman.”
_Over._ Well advis’d.
’T is done; away;—(MARGARET _kneels._) My blessing, girl?
Thou hast it.
Nay, no reply, be gone.—Good Master Allworth,
This shall be the best night’s work you ever made.
_All._ I hope so, sir. 130
_Exeunt_ ALLWORTH _and_ MARGARET.
_Over._ Farewell!—Now all ’s cocksure:
Methinks I hear already knights and ladies
Say, Sir Giles Overreach, how is it with
Your honourable daughter? Has her honour
Slept well to-night? or, will her honour please 135
To accept this monkey, dog, or paraquit[4106]
(This is state in ladies), or my eldest son
To be her page, and wait upon her trencher?
My ends, my ends are compass’d!—then for Wellborn
And the lands: were he once married to the widow, 140
I have him here.—I can scarce contain myself,
I am so full of joy, nay, joy all over. _Exit._
ACT V
SCENE I.[4107]
[_Enter_ LORD] LOVELL, LADY ALLWORTH, _and_ AMBLE.
_L. All._ By this you know how strong the motives were
That did, my lord, induce me to dispense
A little with my gravity to advance,
In personating some few favours to him,
The plots and projects of the down-trod Wellborn. 5
Nor shall I e’er repent, although I suffer
In some few men’s opinions for ’t, the action:
For he that ventur’d all for my dear husband
Might justly claim an obligation from me
To pay him such a courtesy; which had I 10
Coyly or over-curiously[4108] denied,
It might have argu’d me of little love
To the deceas’d.
_Lov._ What you intended, madam,
For the poor gentleman hath found good success;
For, as I understand, his debts are paid, 15
And he once more furnished for fair employment:
But all the arts that I have us’d to raise
The fortunes of your joy and mine, young Allworth,
Stand yet in supposition, though I hope well;
For the young lovers are in wit more pregnant
Than their years can promise; and for their desires, 21
On my knowledge, they are equal.
_L. All._ As my wishes
Are with yours, my lord; yet give me leave to fear
The building, though well grounded: to deceive
Sir Giles, that’s both a lion and a fox 25
In his proceedings, were a work beyond
The strongest undertakers; not the trial
Of two weak innocents.
_Lov._ Despair not, madam:
Hard things are compass’d oft by easy means;
And judgment, being a gift deriv’d from Heaven, 30
Though sometimes lodg’d i’ th’ hearts of worldly men,
That ne’er consider from whom they receive it,
Forsakes such as abuse the giver of it.
Which is the reason that the politic
And cunning statesman, that believes he fathoms 35
The counsels of all kingdoms on the earth,
Is by simplicity oft over-reach’d.
_L. All._ May he be so! Yet, in his name to express it,
Is a good omen.
_Lov._ May it to myself
Prove so, good lady, in my suit to you! 40
What think you of the motion?
_L. All._ Troth, my lord,
My own unworthiness may answer for me;
For had you, when that I was in my prime,
My virgin flower uncropp’d, presented me
With this great favour; looking on my lowness
Not in a glass of self-love, but of truth, 46
I could not but have thought it as a blessing
Far, far beyond my merit.
_Lov._ You are too modest,
And undervalue that which is above
My title, or whatever I call mine. 50
I grant, were I a Spaniard, to marry
A widow might disparage me; but being
A true-born Englishman, I cannot find
How it can taint my honour: nay, what ’s more,
That which you think a blemish is to me 55
The fairest lustre. You already, madam,
Have given sure proofs how dearly you can cherish
A husband that deserves you; which confirms me
That, if I am not wanting in my care
To do you service, you ’ll be still the same 60
That you were to your Allworth: in a word,
Our years, our states, our births are not unequal,
You being descended nobly, and alli’d so;
If then you may be won to make me happy,
But join your lips to mine, and that shall be 65
A solemn contract.
_L. All._ I were blind to my own good
Should I refuse it; [_kisses him_] yet, my lord, receive me
As such a one, the study of whose whole life
Shall know no other object but to please you.
_Lov._ If I return not, with all tenderness, 70
Equal respect to you, may I die wretched!
_L. All._ There needs no protestation, my lord.
To her that cannot doubt,—
_Enter_ WELLBORN [_handsomely apparelled_.]
You are welcome, sir.
Now you look like yourself.
_Well._ And will continue
Such in my free acknowledgment that I am 75
Your creature, madam, and will never hold
My life mine own, when you please to command it.
_Lov._ It is a thankfulness that well becomes you.
You could not make choice of a better shape
To dress your mind in.
_L. All._ For me, I am happy 80
That my endeavours prosper’d. Saw you of late
Sir Giles, your uncle?
_Well._ I heard of him, madam,
By his minister, Marrall; he ’s grown into strange passions
About his daughter. This last night he look’d for
Your lordship at his house, but missing you, 85
And she not yet appearing, his wise head
Is much perplex’d and troubl’d.
_Lov._ It may be,
Sweetheart, my project took.
_L. All._ I strongly hope.
_Over._ [_within._] Ha! find her, booby, thou huge lump of nothing,
I ’ll bore thine eyes out else.
_Well._ May it please your lordship, 90
For some ends of mine own, but to withdraw
A little out of sight, though not of hearing,
You may, perhaps, have sport.
_Lov._ You shall direct me. _Steps aside._
_Enter_ OVERREACH, _with distracted looks, driving in_ MARRALL _before
him_ [_with a box_].[4109]
_Over._ I shall _sol fa_ you, rogue!
_Mar._ Sir, for what cause
Do you use me thus?
_Over._ Cause, slave! Why, I am angry, 95
And thou a subject only fit for beating,
And so to cool my choler. Look to the writing;
Let but the seal be broke upon the box
That hast slept in my cabinet these three years,
I ’ll rack thy soul for ’t.
_Mar._ (_Aside._) I may yet cry quittance, 100
Though now I suffer, and dare not resist.
_Over._ Lady, by your leave, did you see my daughter lady?
And the lord her husband? Are they in your house?
If they are, discover, that I may bid ’em joy;
And, as an entrance to her place of honour, 105
See your ladyship be on her left hand, and make courtesies
When she nods on you; which you must receive
As a special favour.
_L. All._ When I know, Sir Giles,
Her state requires such ceremony, I shall pay it;
But in the meantime, as I am myself, 110
I give you to understand, I neither know
Nor care where her honour is.
_Over._ When you once see her
Supported, and led by the lord her husband,
You ’ll be taught better.——Nephew.
_Well._ Sir.
_Over._ No more?
_Well._ ’T is all I owe you.
_Over._ Have your redeem’d rags 115
Made you thus insolent?
_Well._ (_in scorn._) Insolent to you!
Why, what are you, sir, unless in your years,
At the best, more than myself?
_Over._ [_Aside._] His fortune swells him.
’T is rank[4110] he ’s married.
_L. All._ This is excellent!