Enter ALLWORTH and MARGARET
¶All. Whether to yield the first praise to my lord'sUnequall'd temperance or your constant sweetnessThat I yet live, my weak hands fasten'd onHope's anchor, spite of all storms of despair,I yet rest doubtful.Marg. Give it to Lord Lovell;For what in him was bounty, in me's duty,I make but payment of a debt to whichMy vows, in that high office regist'red,Are faithful witnesses.All. 'Tis true, my dearest:Yet, when I call to mind how many fair onesMake wilful shipwreck of their faiths, and oathsTo God and man, to fill the arms of greatness,And you rise up [no] 1 less than a glorious star,To the amazement of the world,—hold outAgainst the stern authority of a father,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 rightYou yet are pleas'd to do me.Marg. Yet, and ever.To me what's title, when content is wanting?Or wealth, rak'd up together with much care,And to be kept with more, when the heart pinesIn being dispossess'd of what it longs forBeyond the Indian mines ? or the smooth browOf a pleas'd sire, that slaves me to his will,And, so his ravenous humour may be feasted[925]By my obedience, and he see me great,Leaves to my soul nor faculties nor powerTo make her own election ?All. But the dangersThat follow the repulseMarg. To me they are nothing;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 hearseIn sorrow for my fate, will call back lifeSo far as but to say, that I die yours;I then shall rest in peace: or should he proveSo cruel, as one death would not sufficeHis thirst of vengeance, but with ling'ring tormentsIn mind and body I must waste to air,In poverty join'd with banishment; so you shareIn my afflictions, which I dare not wish you,So high I prize you, I could undergo 'emWith such a patience as should look downWith scorn on his worst malice.All. Heaven avertSuch trials of your true affection to me!Nor will it unto you, that are all mercy,Shew so much rigour: but since we must runSuch desperate hazards, let us do our bestTo steer between them.Marg. Your lord's ours, and sure;And, though but a young actor, second meIn doing to the life what he has plotted,
p. 925¶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,He does solicit me, I shall gladly hear him.[926]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 undoneTill death unloose it, is a confidenceIn his lordship will deceive him.All. I hope better,Good lady.Marg. Hope, sir, what you please: for meI must take a safe and secure course; I haveA father, and without his full consent,Though all lords of the land kneel'd for my favour,I can grant nothing.Over. I like this obedience: [Comes forward.]But whatsoe'er my lord writes, must and shall beAccepted and embrac'd. Sweet Master Allworth,You shew yourself a true and faithful servantTo your good lord; he has a jewel of you.How! frowning, Meg? Are these looks to receiveA 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 joysThat we can hope for, if deferr'd, prove toys;1Therefore this instant, and in private, meetA husband, that will gladly at your feetLay down his honours, tend'ring them to youWith all content, the church being paid her due."—Is this the arrogant piece of paper? Fool!Will you still be one ? In the name of madness whatCould 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 ?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 invitedTo honour the solemnity.[927]All. An't please your honour,For so before to-morrow I must style you,My lord desires this privacy, in respectHis honourable kinsmen are afar off,And his desires to have it done brook notSo long delay as to expect1 their coming;And yet he stands resolv'd, with all due pomp,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; 'tis the fashion, on my knowledge:Yet the good lord, to please your peevishness,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,And give me in the church.Over. So my lord have you,What do I care who gives you ? Since my lordDoes purpose to be private, I'll not cross him.I know not, Master Allworth, how my lordMay be provided, and therefore there's a purseOf gold, 'twill serve this night's expense; to-morrowI'll furnish him with any sums. In the mean time,Use my ring to my chaplain; he is benefic'dAt my manor of Gotham, and call'd Parson Willdo:'Tis no matter for a licence, I'll bear him out in't.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'dWere such a stain upon me!—If you pleas'd, sir,Your presence would do better.Over. Still perverse!I say again, I will not cross my lord;[928]Yet I'll prevent1 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,"Marry her to this gentleman."Over. Well advis'd.'Tis 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. Exeunt ALLWORTH and MARGARET.Over. Farewell!—Now all's cocksure:Methinks I hear already knights and ladiesSay, Sir Giles Overreach, how is it withYour honourable daughter ? Has her honourSlept well to-night? or, will her honour pleaseTo accept this monkey, dog, or paraquit, 5(This is state in ladies), or my eldest sonTo be her page, and wait upon her trencher?My ends, my ends are compass'd—then for WellbornAnd the lands; were he once married to the widowI have him here—I can scarce contain myself,I am so full of joy, nay, joy all over. Exit.
Act V
¶SCENE I. [A room in Lady Allworth's house]
[Enter LORD] LOVELL, LADY ALLWORTH, and AMBLE
¶L. All. By this you know how strong the motives wereThat did, my lord, induce me to dispenseA little, with my gravity, to advance,In personating some few favours to him,The plots and projects of the down-trod Wellborn.Nor shall I e'er repent, although I suffer[929]In some few men's opinions for't, the action;For he that ventur'd all for my dear husbandMight justly claim an obligation from meTo pay him such a courtesy; which had ICoyly or over-curiously1 denied,It might have argu'd me of little loveTo the deceased.Lov. What you intended, madam,For the poor gentleman hath found good success;For, as I understand, his debts are paid,And he once more furnish'd for fair employment:But all the arts that I have us'd to raiseThe fortunes of your joy and mine, young Allworth,Stand yet in supposition, though I hope well;For the young lovers are in wit more pregnantThan their years can promise; and for their desires,On my knowledge, they are equal.L. All. As my wishesAre with yours, my lord; yet give me leave to fearThe building, though well grounded: to deceiveSir Giles, that's both a lion and a foxIn his proceedings, were a work beyondThe strongest undertakers; not the trialOf 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,Though sometimes lodg'd i' the 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 politicAnd cunning statesman, that believes he fathomsThe 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.[930]Lov. May it to myselfProve so, good lady, in my suit to you!What think you of the motion?L. All. Troth, my lord,My own un worthiness may answer for me;For had you, when that I was in my prime,My virgin flower uncropp'd, presented meWith this great favour; looking on my lownessNot in a glass of self-love, but of truth,I could not but have thought it as a blessingFar, far beyond my merit.Lov. You are too modest,And undervalue that which is aboveMy title, or whatever I call mine.I grant, were I a Spaniard, to marryA widow might disparage me; but beingA true-born Englishman, I cannot findHow it can taint my honour: nay, what's more,That which you think a blemish is to meThe fairest lustre. You already, madam,Have given sure proofs how dearly you can cherishA husband that deserves you; which confirms me,That, if I am not wanting in my careTo do you service, you'll be still the sameThat 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 beA solemn contract.L. All. I were blind to my own good,Should I refuse it; [Kisses him] yet, my lord, receive meAs such a one, the study of whose whole lifeShall know no other object but to please you.Lov. If I return not, with all tenderness,Equal respect to you, may I die wretched!L. All. There needs no protestation, my lord,To her that cannot doubt.—[931]Enter WELLBORN, [handsomely apparelled]You are welcome, sir.Now you look like yourself.Well. And will continueSuch in my free acknowledgment, that I amYour creature, madam, and will never holdMy 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 shapeTo dress your mind in.L. All. For me, I am happyThat my endeavours prosper'd. Saw you of lateSir Giles, your uncle?Well. I heard of him, madam,By his minister, Marrall; he's grown into strange passionsAbout his daughter. This last night he look'd forYour lordship at his house, but missing you,And she not yet appearing, his wise headIs 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,For some ends of mine own, but to withdrawA little out of sight, though not of hearing,You may, perhaps, have sport.Lov. You shall direct me. Steps aside.
p. 931¶Enter OVERREACH, with distracted looks, driving in MARRALLbefore him, [with a box] 2Over. I shall sol fa you, rogue!Mar. Sir, for what causeDo you use me thus?[932]Over. Cause, slave! Why, I am angry,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 boxThat hast slept in my cabinet these three years,I'll rack thy soul for't.Mar. Aside. I may yet cry quittance,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,See your ladyship be on her left hand, and make courtsiesWhen she nods on you; which you must receiveAs 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,I give you to understand, I neither knowNor care where her honour is.Over. When you once see herSupported, and led by the lord her husband,You'll be taught better. -Nephew.Well. Sir.Over. No more?Well. 'Tis all I owe you.Over. Have your redeem'd ragsMade 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:'Tis rank1 he's married.L. All. This is excellent!Over. Sir, in calm language, though I seldom use it,I am familiar with the cause that makes you[933]Bear up thus bravely; there's a certain buzzOf a stol'n marriage, do you hear ? of a stol'n marriage,In which, 'tis said, there's somebody hath been cozen'd;I name no parties.Well. Well, sir, and what follows?Over. Marry, this; since you are peremptory. Remember,Upon mere hope of your great match, I lent youA thousand pounds: put me in good security,And suddenly, by mortgage or by statute,Of some of your new possessions, or I'll have youDragg'd in your lavender robes1 to the gaol. You know me,And therefore do not trifle.Well. Can you beSo cruel to your nephew, now he's inThe way to rise? Was this the courtesyYou did me "in pure love, and no ends else" ?Over. End me no ends! Engage the whole estate,And force your spouse to sign it, you shall haveThree or four thousand more, to roar and swaggerAnd revel in bawdy taverns.Well. And beg after;Mean you not so?Over. My thoughts are mine, and free.Shall I have security?Well. No, indeed you shall not,Nor bond, nor bill, nor bare acknowledgment;Your great looks fright not me.Over. But my deeds shall.Outbrav'd! Both draw.L. All. Help, murder! murder!
¶Well. Let him come on,With all his wrongs and injuries about him,Arm'd with his cut-throat practices to guard him;[934]The right that I bring with me will defend me,And punish his extortion.Over. That I had theeBut single in the field!L. All. You may; but make notMy house your quarrelling scene.Over. Were't in a church,By Heaven and Hell, I'll do't!Mar. Now put him toThe shewing of the deed. [Aside to WELLBORN.]Well. This rage is vain, sir;For fighting, fear not, you shall have your hands full,Upon the least incitement; and whereasYou charge me with a debt of a thousand pounds,If there be law, (howe'er you have no conscience,)Either restore my land, or I'll recoverA debt, that's truly due to me from you,In value ten times more than what you challenge.Over. I in thy debt! O impudence! did I not purchaseThe land left by thy father, that rich land,That had continued in Wellborn's nameTwenty descents; which, like a riotous fool,Thou didst make sale of it? Is not here inclos'dThe deed that dost confirm it mine ?Mar. Now, now!Well. I do acknowledge none; I ne'er pass'd overAny such land. I grant, for a year or twoYou had it in trust; which if you do discharge,Surrend'ring the possession, you shall easeYourself and me of chargeable suits in law,Which, if you prove not honest, as I doubt it,Must of necessity follow.L. All. In my judgment,He does advise you well.Over. Good! good! ConspireWith your new husband, lady; second himIn his dishonest practices; but when[935]This manor is extended 5 to my use,You'll speak in an humbler key, and sue for favour.L. All. Never: do not hope it.Well. Let despair first seize me.Over. Yet, to shut up thy mouth, and make thee giveThyself the lie, the loud lie, I draw outThe precious evidence; if thou canst forswearThy hand and seal, and make a forfeit ofOpens the box [and displays the bond].Thy ears to the pillory, see! here's that will makeMy interest clear—ha!L. All. A fair skin of parchment.Well. Indented, I confess, and labels too;But neither wax nor words. How! thunderstruck?Not a syllable to insult with ? My wise uncle,Is this your precious evidence? Is this that makesYour interest clear ?Over. I am o'erwhelm'd with wonder!What prodigy is this? What subtle devilHath raz'd out the inscription, the waxTurned into dust ? The rest of my deeds wholeAs when they were deliver'd, and this onlyMade nothing! Do you deal with witches, rascal?There is a statute 6 for you, which will bringYour neck in an hempen circle; yes, there is;And now 'tis better thought for, cheater, knowThis juggling shall not save you.Well. To save thee,Would beggar the stock of mercy.Over. Marrall!Mar. Sir.Over. Flattering him. Though the witnesses are dead, your testimonyHelp with an oath or two: and for thy master,Thy liberal master, my good honest servant,I know thou wilt swear anything, to dash[936]The cunning sleight: besides, I know thou artA public notary, and such stand in lawFor a dozen witnesses: the deed being drawn tooBy thee, my careful Marrall, and deliveredWhen thou were't present, will make good my title.Wilt thou not swear this?Mar. I! No, I assure you:I have a conscience not sear'd up like yours;I know no deeds.Over. Wilt thou betray me ?Mar. Keep himFrom using of his hands, I'll use my tongue,To his no little torment.Over. Mine own varletRebel against me!Mar. Yes, and uncase 7 you too."The idiot, the patch, the slave, the booby,The property fit only to be beatenFor your morning exercise," your "football," or"The unprofitable lump of flesh," your "drudge,"Can now anatomise you, and lay openAll your black plots, and level with the earthYour hill of pride, and, with these gabions 8 guardedUnload my great artillery, and shake,Nay pulverize, the walls you think defend you.L. All. How he foams at the mouth with rage!Well. To him again.Over. O that I had thee in my gripe, I would tear theeJoint after joint!Mar. I know you are a tearer,But I'll have first your fangs par'd off, and thenCome nearer to you; when I have discover'd, 9And made it good before the judge, what waysAnd devilish practices you us'd to cozenWith an army of whole families, who yet live,[937]And but enrolled for soldiers, were ableTo take in 1 0 Dunkirk.Well. All will come out.L. All. The better.Over. But that I will live, rogue, to torture thee,And make thee wish, and kneel in vain, to die,These swords that keep thee from me should fix here,Although they made my body but one wound,But I would reach thee.Lov. Aside. Heaven's hand is in this;One bandog 11 worry the other!Over. I play the fool,And make my anger but ridiculous:There will be a time and place, there will be, cowards,When you shall feel what I dare do.Well. I think so:You dare do any ill, yet want true valourTo be honest, and repent.Over. They are words I know not,Nor e'er will learn. Patience, the beggar's virtue,
Enter GREEDY and PARSON WILLDO
¶Shall find no harbour here:—after these stormsAt length a calm appears. Welcome, most welcome!There's comfort in thy looks. Is the deed done ?Is my daughter married ? Say but so, my chaplain,And I am tame.Willdo. Married! Yes, I assure you.Over. Then vanish all sad thoughts! There's more gold for thee.My doubts and fears are in the titles drown'dOf my honourable, my right honourable daughter.Greedy. Here will 1 2 be feasting! At least for a month,I am provided: empty guts, croak no more.You shall be stuff'd like bagpipes, not with wind,But bearing 13 dishes.Over. Instantly be here? Whispering to WILLDO.[938]To my wish! to my wish! Now you that plot against me,And hop'd to trip my heels up, that contemn'd me,Think on't and tremble.—Loud music—They come! I hear themusic.A lane there for my lord!Well. Think sudden heatMay yet be cool'd, sir.Over. Make way there for my lord!
Enter ALLWORTH and MARGARET
¶Marg. Sir, first your pardon, then your blessing, withYour full allowance of the choice I have made.As ever you could make use of your reason, Kneeling.Grow not in passion; since you may as wellCall back the day that's past, as untie the knotWhich is too strongly fasten'd: not to dwellToo long on words, this is my husband.Over. How!All. So I assure you; all the rites of marriage,With every circumstance, are past. Alas! sir,Although I am no lord, but a lord's page,Your daughter and my lov'd wife mourns not for it;And, for right honourable son-in-law, you may say,Your dutiful daughter.Over. Devil! are they married?Willdo. Do a father's part, and say, Heaven give 'em joy!Over. Confusion and ruin! Speak, and speak quickly,Or thou art dead.Willdo. They are married.Over. Thou hadst betterHave made a contract with the king of fiends,Than these:—my brain turns!Willdo. Why this rage to me ?Is not this your letter, sir, and these the words?"Marry her to this gentleman."Over. It cannot—Nor will I e'er believe it, 'sdeath! I will not;[939]That I, that in all passages I touch'dAt worldly profit have not left a printWhere I have trod for the most curious searchTo trace my footsteps, should be gull'd by children,Baffl'd and fool'd, and all my hopes and laboursDefeated and made void.Well. As it appears,You are so, my grave uncle.Over. Village nursesRevenge their wrongs with curses; I'll not wasteA syllable, but thus I take the lifeWhich, wretched, I gave to thee. Offers to kill MARGARET.Lov. [coming forward.] Hold, for your own sake!Though charity to your daughter hath quite left you,Will you do an act, though in your hopes lost here,Can leave no hope for peace or rest hereafter ?Consider; at the best you are but a man,And cannot so create your aims, but thatThey may be cross'd.Over. Lord! thus I spit at thee,And at thy counsel; and again desire thee,And as thou art a soldier, if thy valourDares shew itself where multitude and exampleLead not the way, let's quit the house, and changeSix words in private.Lov. I am ready.L. All. Stay, sir,Contest with one distracted!Well. You'll grow like him,Should you answer his vain challenge.Over. Are you pale ?Borrow his help, though Hercules call it odds,I'll stand against both as I am, hemm'd in thus.Since, like a Libyan lion in the toil,My fury cannot reach the coward hunters,And only spends itself, I'll quit the place.Alone I can do nothing; but I have servants[940]And friends to second me; and if I make notThis house a heap of ashes (by my wrongs,What I have spoke I will make good!) or leaveOne throat uncut,—if it be possible,Hell, add to my afflictions!Mar. Is't not brave sport?Greedy. Brave sport! I am sure it has ta'en away my stomachI do not like the sauce.All. Nay, weep not, dearest,Though it express your pity; what's decreedAbove, we cannot alter.L. All. His threats move meNo scruple, madam.Mar. Was it not a rare trick,An it please your worship, to make the deed nothing ?I can do twenty neater, if you pleaseTo purchase and grow rich; for I will beSuch a solicitor and steward for you,As never worshipful had.Well. I do believe thee;But first discover the quaint 14 means you us'dTo raze out the conveyance ?Mar. They are mysteriesNot to be spoke in public: certain mineralsIncorporated in the ink and wax—Besides, he gave me nothing, but still fed meWith hopes and blows; but that was the inducementTo this conundrum. If it please your worshipTo call to memory, this mad beast once caus'd meTo urge you or to drown or hang yourself;I'll do the like to him, if you command me.Well. You are a rascal! He that dares be falseTo a master, though unjust, will ne'er be trueTo any other. Look not for rewardOr favour from me; I will shun thy sightAs I would do a basilisk's. Thank my pity,[941]If thou keep thy ears; howe'er, I will take orderYour practice shall be silenc'd.Greedy. I'll commit him,If you'll have me, sir.Well. That were to little purpose;His conscience be his prison. Not a word,But instantly be gone.Ord. Take this kick with you.Amb. And this.Furn. If that I had my cleaver here,I would divide your knave's head.Mar. This is the havenFalse servants still arrive at. Exit.
¶L. All. Come again!Lov. Fear not, I am your guard.Well. His looks are ghastly.Willdo. Some little time I have spent, under your favours,In physical studies, and if my judgment err not,He's mad beyond recovery: but observe him,And look to yourselves.Over. Why, is not the whole worldInclude in yourself? To what use thenAre friends and servants ? Say there were a squadronOf pikes, lin'd through with shot, when I am mountedUpon my injuries, shall I fear to charge them?No: I'll through the battalia, and, that routed,Flourishing his sword sheathed. 15I'll fall to execution.—Ha! I am feeble:Some undone widow sits upon mine arm,And takes away the use oft; and my sword,Glu'd to my scabbard with wrong'd orphans' tears,Will not be drawn. Ha! what are these? Sure, hangmen,That come to bind my hands, and then to drag meBefore the judgment-seat: now they are new shapes,[942]And do appear like Furies, with steel whipsTo scourge my ulcerous soul. Shall I then fallIngloriously, and yield? No; spite of Fate,I will be forc'd to hell like to myself.Though you were legions of accursed spirits,Thus would I fly among you.[Rushes forward and flings himself on the ground.]Well. There's no help;Disarm him first, then bind him.Greedy. Take a mittimus™And carry him to Bedlam.Lov. How he foams!Well. And bites the earth!Willdo. Carry him to some dark room,There try what art can do for his recovery.Marg. O my dear father! They force OVERREACH off.All. You must be patient, mistress.Lov. Here is a precedent to teach wicked men,That when they leave religion, and turn atheists,Their own abilities leave them. Pray you take comfort,I will endeavour you shall be his guardiansIn his distractions: and for your land, Master Wellborn,Be it good or ill in law, I'll be an umpireBetween you, and this, th' undoubted heirOf Sir Giles Overreach. For me, here's the anchorThat I must fix on.All. What you shall determine,My lord, I will allow of.Well. 'Tis the languageThat I speak too; but there is something elseBeside the repossession of my land,And payment of my debts, that I must practise.I had a reputation, but 'twas lostIn my loose course; and until I redeem itSome noble way, I am but half made up.It is a time of action; if your lordship[943]Will please to confer a company upon meIn your command, I doubt not in my serviceTo my king and country but I shall do somethingThat may make me right again.Lov. Your suit is granted,And you lov'd for the motion.Well, [coming forward.] Nothing wants thenBut your allowance—
The Epilogue
¶But your allowance, and in that our allIs comprehended; it being known, nor we,Nor he that wrote the comedy, can be free,Without your manumission; which if youGrant willingly, as a fair favour dueTo the poet's and our labours, (as you may,For we despair not, gentlemen, of the play,)We jointly shall profess your grace hath mightTo teach us action, and him how to write. [Exeunt.]