A New WayTo Pay Old DebtsDramatis Persons
¶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], 1
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¶Lady Allworth, a rich Widow.Margaret, Daughter of Sir Giles Overreach.Froth, Wife of Tapwell.Chambermaid.Waiting Woman.[SCENE—The Country near Nottingham]
Act IScene I. [Before Tapwell's house]
¶[Enter] Wellborn [in tattered apparel], Tapwell, and Froth Wellborn.
¶NO BOUSE.?' nor no tobacco.?
Tap. Not a suck, sir;Nor the remainder of a single can
¶Left by a drunken porter, all night pall'd ^ too.Froth. Not the dropping of the tap for your morning's draught,sir:'Tis verity, I assure you.' Booze, drink. ^ Staled.[860]Well. Verity, you brache! 3The devil turn'd precisian! 4 Rogue, what am I?Tap. Troth, durst I trust you with a looking-glass,To let you see your trim shape, you would quit meAnd take the name yourself.Well. How, dog!Tap. Even so, sir.And I must tell you, if you but advanceYour Plymouth cloak 5 you shall be soon instructedThere dwells, and within call, if it please your worship,A potent monarch call'd the constable,That does command a citadel called the stocks;Whose guards are certain files of rusty billmenSuch as with great dexterity will haleYour tatter'd, lousyWell. Rascal! slave!Froth. No rage, sir.Tap. At his own peril. Do not put yourselfIn too much heat, there being no water nearTo quench your thirst; and sure, for other liquor,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 TapwellDoes keep no other register.Well. Am not I heWhose riots fed and cloth'd thee ? Wert thou notBorn on my father's land, and proud to beA drudge in his house ?Tap. What I was, sir, it skills 6 not;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, 7[861]And stood fair to be custos rotulorum;1Bore 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 WellbornWell. Slave, stop! or I shall lose myself.Froth. Very hardly: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 oft; hawks and hounds,With choice of running horses; mistressesOf 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 them,)On foolish mortgages, statutes, and bonds,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 gene, and your credit not worth a tokenYou grew a common borrower; no man scap'dYour paper-pellets,2 from the gentlemanTo the beggars on highways, that sold you switchesIn 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;Humbled myself to marriage with my Froth here,Gave entertainmentWell. Yes, to whores and canters, 10Clubbers by night.Tap. True, but they brought in profit,And had a gift to pay for what they call'd for,[862]And stuck not like your mastership. The poor incomeI glean'd from them hath made me in my parishThought worthy to be scavenger, and in timeI may rise to be overseer of the poor;Which if I do, on your petition, Wellborn,I may allow you thirteen-pence a quarter.And you shall thank my worship.Well. Thus, you dog-bolt,And thus Beats and \ic\s 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 IMake purses for you ? Then you lick'd my boots,And thought your holiday cloak too coarse to clean them.'Twas I that, when I heard thee swear if everThou couldst arrive at forty pounds thou wouldstLive like an emperor, 'twas I that gave itIn ready gold. Deny this, wretch!Tap. I must, sir;For, from the tavern to the taphouse, all,On forfeiture of their licenses, stand boundNe'er to remember who their best guests were,If they grew poor like you.Well. They are well rewardedThat beggar themselves to make such cuckolds rich.Thou viper, thankless viper! impudent bawd!—But since you are grown forgetful, I will helpYour memory, and tread you into mortar,Nor leave one bone unbroken. [Beats him again.]Tap. Oh!Froth. Ask mercy.
¶Well. 'Twill not be granted.All. Hold—for my sake, hold.Deny me, Frank? They are not worth your anger.[863]Well. For once thou hast redeem'd them from this sceptre; 11But let 'em vanish, creeping on their knees,And, if they grumble, I revoke my pardon.Froth. This comes of your prating, husband; you presum'dOn 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,That I cannot pay too much observance to her.There are few such stepdames.Well. 'Tis a noble widow,And keeps her reputation pure, and clearFrom the least taint of infamy; her life,With the splendour of her actions, leaves no tongueTo 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;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 herA liberal entertainment. I can give youA catalogue of her suitors' names.Well. Forbear it,While I give you good counsel: I am bound to it.Thy father was my friend, and that affectionI bore to him, in right descends to thee;Thou art a handsome and a hopeful youth,Nor will I have the least affront stick on thee,If I with any danger can prevent it.[864]All. I thank your noble care; but, pray you, in whatDo I run the hazard?Well. Ar 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.I have heard all, and the choice that you have made,And, with my finger, can point out the north starBy which the loadstone of your folly's guided;And, to confirm this true, what think you ofFair Margaret, the only child and heirOf Cormorant Overreach ? Does it blush and start,To hear her only nam'd ? Blush at your wantOf wit and reason.All. You are too bitter, sir.Well. Wounds of this nature are not to be cur'dWith balms, but corrosives. I must be plain:Art thou scarce manumis'd 1 2 from the porter's lodge 1 8And yet sworn servant to the pantofle, 14And dar'st thou dream of marriage ? I fear'Twill be concluded for impossibleThat there is now, or e'er shall be hereafter,A handsome page or player's boy of fourteenBut 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 everThe queen of flowers, the glory of the spring,The sweetest comfort to our smell, the rose,Sprang from an envious briar, I may inferThere's such disparity in their conditionsBetween the goodness of my soul, the daughter,And the base churl her father.Well. Grant this true,As I believe it, canst thou ever hope[865]To enjoy a quiet bed with her whose fatherRuin'd thy state?All. And yours too.Well. I confess it;True; I must tell you as a friend, and freely,That, where impossibilities are apparent,'Tis indiscretion to nourish hopes.Canst thou imagine (let not self-love blind thee)That Sir Giles Overreach, that, to make her greatIn swelling titles, without touch of conscienceWill 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.But in the mean time you that are so studiousOf my affairs wholly neglect your own.Remember yourself, and in what plight you are.Well. No matter, no matter.All. Yes, 'tis much material.You know my fortune and my means; yet somethingI can spare from myself to help your wants.Well. How's this?All. Nay, be not angry; there's eight piecesTo put you in better fashion.Well. Money from thee!From a boy! A stipendiary! One that livesAt the devotion of a stepmotherAnd the uncertain favour of a lord!I'll eat my arms first. Howsoe'er blind FortuneHath 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 15—Although I thank thee, I despise thy offer;And as I in my madness broke my state
p. 865¶15/. e., the sky.[866]Without th' assistance of another's brain,In my right wits I'll piece it; at the worst,Die thus and be forgotten.All. A strange humour! Exeunt.
¶SCENE II. [A room in Lady Allworth's house]
[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,And privilege in the wine-cellar.Amb. You are merry,Good master steward.Furn. Let him; I'll be angry.Amb. Why, fellow Furnace, 'tis not twelve o'clock yet,Nor dinner taking up; then, 'tis allow'd,Cooks, by their places, may be choleric.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 prayersI 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 sne given thee?Furn. Cause enough, master steward.I was entertain'd by her to please her palate,And, till she forswore eating, I perform'd it.[867]Now, since our master, noble Allworth, died,Though I crack my brains to find out tempting sauces,And raise fortifications in the pastrySuch 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 1Amb. But you had wanted matter there to work on.Furn. Matter! with six eggs, and a strike 2 of rye meal,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 roastedAnd the fourth part parboil'd, to prepare her viands,She keeps her chamber, dines with a panada 3Or 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 comeTo feed upon her. Yet, of all the harpiesThat do devour her, I am out of charityWith none so much as the thin-gutted squireThat'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.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.
¶' The siege of Breda by Spinola in 1624-5 was one of the great events of the time. 2 Two bushels. 3 Bread soaked in hot water and milk.
p. 868¶Furn. We are all your servants.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, andChambermaidOrd. Her presence answers for us.L. All. Sort those silks well.I'll take the air alone.Exeunt Waiting 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;I shall ere long: i' the mean time, there is goldTo buy thee aprons, and a summer suit.Furn. I am appeas'd, and Furnace now grows cool.1L. All. And, as I gave directions, if this morningI am visited by any, entertain 'emAs 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!All. Style not that courtship, madam, which is dutyPurchas'd on your part.L. All. Well, you shall o'ercome;I'll not contend in words. How is it withYour noble master ?All. Ever like himself,No scruple lessen'd in the full weight of honour.[869]He did command me, pardon my presumption,As his unworthy deputy, to kissYour ladyship's fair hands.L. All. I am honour'd inHis favour to me. Does he hold his purposeFor the Low Countries?All. Constantly, good madam;But he will in person first present his service.L. All. And how approve you of his course? You are yetLike virgin parchment, capable of anyInscription, vicious or honourable.I will not force your will, but leave you freeTo you own election.All. Any form you please,I will put on; but, might I make my choice,With humble emulation I would followThe path my lord marks to me.L. All. 'Tis well answer'd,And I commend your spirit. You had a father,Blest be his memory! that some few hoursBefore the will of Heaven took him from me,Who did commend you, by the dearest tiesOf perfect love between us, to my charge;And, therefore, what I speak, you are bound to hearWith such respect as if he liv'd in me.He was my husband, and howe'er you are notSon 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,Will labour that you never may repentYour bounties shower'd upon me.L. All I much hope it.These were your father's words: "If e'er my sonFollow the war, tell him it is a schoolWhere all the principles tending to honour[870]Are taught, if truly followed: but for suchAs repair thither as a place in whichThey do presume they may with license practiseTheir lusts and riots, they shall never meritThe 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 coldAnd 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 syllableYou speak, but is to me an oracle,Which but to doubt were impious.L. All. To conclude:Beware ill company, for often menAre like to those with whom they do converse;And, from one man I warn1 you, and that's Wellborn:Not 'cause he's poor, that rather claims your pity;But that he's in his manners so debauch'd,And hath to vicious courses sold himself.'Tis true, your father lov'd him, while he wasWorthy the loving; but if he had liv'dTo have seen him as he is, he had cast him off,As you must do.All. I shall obey in all things.L. All. Follow me to my chamber, you shall have goldTo furnish you like my son, and still supplied,As I hear from you.All. I am still your creature. Exeunt.[871]SCENE III. [A hall in the same]
[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 herselfClose prisoner ever for her husband's loss,'Twill not recover him.Ord. Sir, it is her will,Which we, that are her servants, ought to serve,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 pipeOf rich Canary, which shall spend itselfFor my lady's honour.Greedy. Is it of the right race?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 chine1Of 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,And bak'd in puff-paste.Greedy. Puff-paste too! Sir Giles,A ponderous chine of beef! a pheasant larded![872]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 skeletons rapt!Over. You know we cannot.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 itHenrici decimo quarto.Over. Fie, Master Greedy!Will you lose me a thousand pounds for a dinner?No more, for shame! We must forget the bellyWhen 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,And I, in thankfulness, will, by your boy,Send you—a brace of three-pences.Furn. Will you be so prodigal?
¶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!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 stayTo be serv'd, among your fellows, from the basket,1[873]But you must needs press into the hall ?Furn. Prithee, vanishInto some outhouse, though it be the pigstye;My scullion shall come to thee.
¶Well. This is rare:Oh, here's Tom Allworth. Tom!All. We must be strangers;Nor would I have you seen here for a million. Exit.Well. Better and better. He contemns me too!
¶Enter Waidng Woman and ChambermaidWoman. Foh, what a smell's here! What thing's this?Cham. A creatureMade out of the privy; let us hence, for love's sake,Or I shall swoon.Woman. I begin to feel faint already.Exeunt Waiting 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 wretchThat dares attempt to force me. Why, you slaves,Created only to make legs, 3 and cringe;To carry in a dish, and shift a trencher;That have not souls only to hope a blessingBeyond black-jacks 4 or flagons; you, that were bornOnly to consume meat and drink, and batten 5Upon reversions!—who advances? WhoShews me the way?Ord. My lady![874]Enter LADY ALLWORTH, Waiting Woman, and ChambermaidCham. Here's the monster.Woman. Sweet madam, keep your glove to your nose.Cham. Or let meFetch some perfumes may be predominant;You wrong yourself else.Well. Madam, my designsBear me to you.L. All. Tome!Well. And though I have met withBut ragged entertainment from your grooms here,I hope from you to receive that noble usageAs may become the true friend of your husband,And then I shall forget these.L. All. I am amaz'dTo see and hear this rudeness. Dar'st thou think,Though sworn, that it can ever find belief,That I, who to the best men of this countryDeni'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,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 beAn eyesore to me.Well. Scorn me not, good lady;But, as in form you are angelical,Imitate the heavenly natures, and vouchsafeAt the least awhile to hear me. You will grantThe blood that runs in this arm is as nobleAs that which fills your veins; those costly jewels,And those rich clothes you wear, your men's observance,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[875]Than in the pious sorrow you have shewnFor your late noble husband.Ord. How she starts!Furn. And hardly can keep finger from the eyeTo hear him nam'd.L. All. Have you aught else to say ?Well. That husband, madam, was once in his fortuneAlmost as low as I; want, debts, and quarrelsLay heavy on him: let it not be thoughtA boast in me, though I say, I reliev'd him.'Twas I that gave him fashion; mine the sword,That did on all occasions second his;I brought him on and off with honour, lady;And when in all men's judgments he was sunk,And, in his own hopes, not to be buoy'd1 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 himMaster of your estate; nor could your friends,Though he brought no wealth with him, blame you for itFor he had a shape, and to that shape a mindMade up of all parts, either great or noble:So winning a behaviour, not to beResisted, madam.L. All. 'Tis 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 gentlemanA hundred pounds.Well. No, madam, on no terms: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[876]To strangers; and 'tis this. Whispers to her.L.All. Fie! nothing else?Well. Nothing, unless you please to charge your servantsTo 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 suitIs 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,Shake hands, and end all quarrels in the cellar.Ord. Agreed, agreed.Furn. Still merry Master Wellborn. Exeunt.
Act II
¶SCENE I. [A room in Overreach's house]
Enter OVERREACH and MARRALL
¶Over. He's gene, I warrant thee; this commission crush'd him.Mar. Your worships have the way on't, and ne'er missTo squeeze these un thrifts into air; and yet,The chapfalien1 justice did his part, returningFor your advantage the certificate,Against his conscience, and his knowledge too,With your good favour, to the utter ruinOf the poor farmer.Over. 'Twas for these good endsI made him a justice; he that bribes his belly,Is certain to command his soul.Mar. I wonder,Still with your license, why, your worship havingThe power to put this 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;[877]Where, if I were a justice, besides the trouble,I might or out of wilfulness or errorRun myself finely into a premunirefAnd so become a prey to the informer.No, I'll have none oft; 'tis enough I keepGreedy at my devotion; so he serveMy 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,I value not an atom.Mar. What course take you,With your good patience, to hedge in the manorOf your neighbour, Master Frugal? as 'tis saidHe will nor sell, nor borrow, nor exchange;And his land, lying in the midst of your many lordships,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. 'Tis most fit, sir.Over. I'll therefore buy some cottage near his manor,Which done, I'll make my men break ope his fences,Ride o'er his standing corn, and in the nightSet 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,Though he sue in forma pauperis, in spiteOf 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[878]To put it to arbitrement; then, if he sellFor half the value, he shall have ready money,And I possess his land.Mar. 'Tis above wonderlWellborn was apt to sell, and needed notThese fine arts, sir, to hook him in.Over. Well thought on.This varlet, Marrall, lives too long, to upbraid meWith my close cheat put upon him. Will nor coldNor hunger kill him ?Mar. I know not what to think on't.I have us'd all means; and the last night I caus'dHis 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,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 'tis 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.Do any thing to work him to despair;And 'tis 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 hearHe's come into the country, and my aims areTo 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 withThat humble title, and write honourable,[879]Right honourable, Marrall, my right honourable daughter,If all I have, or e'er shall get, will do it.I'll have her well attended; there are ladiesOf errant knights decay'd and brought so low,That for cast clothes and meat will gladly serve her.And 'tis my glory, though I come from the city,To have their issue whom I have undone,To kneel to mine as bondslaves.Mar. 'Tis fit state, sir.Over. And therefore, I'll not have a chambermaidThat ties her shoes, or any meaner office,But such whose fathers were right worshipful.'Tis a rich man's pride! there having ever beenMore than a feud, a strange antipathy,Between us and true gentry.
¶Mar. See, who's here, sir.Over. Hence, monster! prodigy!Well. Sir, your wife's nephew.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.Mar. Mad! had you ta'en compassion on yourself,You long since had been mad.Well. You have ta'en a courseBetween you and my venerable uncle,To make me so.Mar. The more pale-spirited you.That would not be instructed. I swear deeplyWell. By what?Mar. By my religion.Well. Thy religion!The devil's creed:—but what would you have done?[880]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,A withe had serv'd my turn to hang myself.I am zealous in your cause; pray you hang yourself,And presently, 3 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,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 noneOf 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 courseFor your reputation.Well. 'Twill not do, dear tempter,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 airWill not persuade me to give or lendA 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 4 or abram-men 5 that are your consorts ?Well. Thou art incredulous; but thou shalt dineNot alone at her house, but with a gallant lady;[881]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.Well. With the Lady Allworth, knave.Mar. Nay, now there's hopeThy brain is crack'd.Well. Mark there, with what respectI am entertain'd.Mar. With choice, no doubt, of dog-whips.Why, dost thou ever hope to pass her porter ?Well. 'Tis not far off, go with me; trust thine own eyes.Mar. Troth, in my hope, or my assurance rather,To see thee curvet1 and mount like a dog in a blanket,If ever thou presume to cross her threshold,I will endure thy company.Well. Come along then. Exeunt.
p. 881¶SCENE II. [A room in Lady Allworth's house][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,I should neglect my lord.Woman. Pray you do me the favourTo put these few quince-cakes into your pocket;They are of mine own preserving.Cham. And this marmalade;'Tis comfortable for your stomach.Woman. And, at parting,Excuse me if I beg a farewell from you.[882]Cham. You are still before me. I move the same suit, sir.ALLWORTH \isses them severally.Furn. How greedy these chamberers are of a beardless chin!I think the tits1 will ravish him.All. My serviceTo both.Woman. Ours waits on you.Cham. And shall do ever.Ord. You are my lady's charge, be therefore carefulThat you sustain your parts.Woman. We can bear, I warrant you.Exeunt Waiting Woman and Chambermaid.Furn. Here, drink it off; the ingredients are cordial,And this the true elixir; it hath boil'dSince midnight for you. 'Tis the quintessenceOf five cocks of the game, ten dozen of sparrows,Knuckles of veal, potatoe-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 baitAfter this, I warrant you, though your journey's long;You may ride on the strength of this till to-morrow morning.All. Your courtesies overwhelm me: I much grieveTo part from such true friends; and yet find comfort,My attendance on my honourable lord,Whose resolution holds to visit my lady,Will speedily bring me back. Knocking at the gate.Mar. (within.) Dar'st thou venture further?Well, (within.) Yes, yes, and knock again.Ord. 'Tis he; disperse!Amb. Perform it bravely.Furn. I know my cue, ne'er doubt me.Exeunt [all but ALLWORTH].[883][Enter WATCHALL, ceremoniously introducing WELLBORN
¶Watch. Beast that I was, to make you stay! Most welcome;You were long since expected.Well. Say so muchTo my friend, I pray you.Watch. For your sake, I will, sir.Mar. For his sake!Well. Mum; this is nothing.Mar. More than everI would have believ'd, though I had found it in my primer.All. When I have given you reasons for my late harshness,You'll pardon and excuse me; for, believe me,Though now I part abruptly, in my serviceI will deserve it.Mar. Service! with a vengeance!Well. I am satisfied: farewell, Tom.All. All joy stay with you! Exit.Re-enter AMBLEAmb. You are happily encounter'd; I yet neverPresented one so welcome as I knowYou 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!"Re-enter FURNACEFurn. I am glad you are come; until I know your pleasureI 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,[884]Some rails1 and quails, and my lady will'd me ask youWhat 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 twelvemonth,Durst wish but cheese-parings and brown bread on Sundays.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 ORDEROrd. This place becomes you not;Pray you walk, sir, to the dining room.Well. I am well here,Till her ladyship quits her chamber.Mar. Well here, say you?'Tis a rare change! But yesterday you thoughtYourself well in a barn, wrapp'd up in peas-straw.
¶Re-enter Waiting Woman and ChambermaidWoman. O ! sir, you are wish'd for.Cham. My lady dreamt, sir, of you.Woman. And the first command she gave, after she rose,Was (her devotions done) to give her noticeWhen you approach'd here.Cham. Which is done, on my virtue.Mar. I shall be converted; I begin to growInto a new belief, which saints nor angelsCould 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 secondTo such a friend. [Kisses WELLBORN.][885]Mar. To such a friend! Heaven bless me!Well. I am wholly yours; yet, madam, if you pleaseTo grace this gentleman with a saluteMar. Salute me at his bidding!Well. I shall receive itAs a most high favour.L. All. Sir, you may command me.[Advances to kiss MARRALL, who retires.jWell. Run backward from a lady! and such a lady!Mar. To kiss her foot is, to poor me, a favourI am unworthy of. Offers to kjss her foot.L.All. Nay, pray you rise;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 enoughTo sit at your steward's board.L.All. You are too modest;I will not be deni'd.Re-enter FURNACEFurn. Will you still be babblingTill 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 graced.
Exeunt WELLBORN, LADY ALLWORTH, AMBLE, MARRALL,
¶Waiting Woman, [and Chambermaid].
¶Ord. So! we have play'd our parts, and are come off well;But if I know the mystery, why my ladyConsented to it, or why Master WellbornDesir'd it, may I perish!Furn. Would I hadThe 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,Of all the griping and extorting tyrants[886]I ever heard or read of, I ne'er metA match to Sir Giles Overreach.Watch. What will you takeTo tell him so, fellow Furnace?Furn. Just as muchAs my throat is worth, for that would be the price on't.To have a usurer that starves himself,And wears a cloak of one and twenty yearsOn 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,Who must at his command do any outrage;Rich in his habit, vast in his expenses;Yet he to admiration 3 still increasesIn wealth and lordships.Ord. He frights men out of their estates,And breaks through all law-nets, made to curb ill men,As they were cobwebs. No man dares reprove him.Such a spirit to dare and power to do were neverLodg'd so unluckily.
¶Re-enter AMBLE [laughing]Amb. Ha! ha! I shall burst.Ord. Contain thyself, man.Furn. Or make us partakersOf your sudden mirth.Amb. Ha! ha! my lady has gotSuch a guest at her table!—this term-driver, Marrall,This snip of an attorneyFurn. What of him, man ?Amb. The knave thinks still he's at the cook's shop in Ram Alley, 4Where the clerks divide, and the elder is to choose;And feeds so slovenly!Furn. Is this all?Amb. My lady[887]Drank to him for fashion sake, or to please Master Wellborn;As I live, he rises, and takes up a dishIn which there were some remnants of a boil'd capon,And pledges her in white broth!Furn. Nay, 'tis likeThe rest of his tribe.Amb. And when I brought him wine,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 worthyTo 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 refreshingFollows your flux of laughter.L.All. [To WELLBORN.] You are masterOf your own will. I know so much of manners,As not to inquire your purposes; in a word,To me you are ever welcome, as to a houseThat is your own.Well. [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,However in my language I am sparing.Come, Master Marrall.Mar. I attend your worship.
¶Exeunt WELLBORN and MARRALL.
p. 888¶L. All. I see in your looks you are sorry, and you know meAn easy mistress. Be merry; I have forgot all.Order and Furnace, come with me; I must give youFurther directions.Ord. What you please.Furn. We are ready. Exeunt.
¶SCENE III. [The country near Lady Allworth's house]
¶[Enter] WELLBORN, and MARRALL [bare-headed]
¶Well. I think I am in a good way.Mar. Goodl sir; the best way,The certain best way.Well. There are casualtiesThat men are subject to.Mar. You are above 'em;And as you are already worshipful,I hope ere long you will increase in worship,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,Though it hail hazel-nuts, as to be cover'dWhen your worship's present.Well. Aside. Is not this a true rogue,That, out of mere hope of a future coz'nage,1Can turn thus suddenly ? 'Tis rank already.Mar. I know your worship's wise, and needs no counsel,Yet if, in my desire to do you service,I humbly offer my advice, (but stillUnder correction,) I hope I shall notIncur your high displeasure.Well. No; speak freely.[889]Mar. Then, in my judgment, sir, my simple judgment,(Still with your worship's favour,) I could wish youA better habit, for this cannot beBut 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,Before the assurance of her wealth perfum'd you,You savour'd not of amber. 2Well. 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 presentlyLay down at your worship's feet; 'twill serve to buy youA riding suit.Well. But where's the horse?Mar. My geldingIs at your service; nay, you shall ride me,Before your worship shall be put to the troubleTo walk afoot. Alas, when you are lordOf 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, 3 requite your vassal.Well. I thank thy love, but must make no use of it;What's twenty pounds?Mar. 'Tis all that I can make, sir.Well. Dost thou think, though I want clothes, I could not havethem,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 beA gallant-minded lady, after we are married,(There being no woman but is sometimes froward,)To hit me in the teeth, and say, she was forc'dTo buy my wedding-clothes, and took me on[890]With a plain riding-suit, and an ambling nag.No, I'll be furnish'd something like myself,And so farewell: for thy suit touching Knave's-acre,When it is mine, 'tis thine.Mar. I thank your worship. Exit WELL.How was I cozen'd 4 in the calculationOf this man's fortune! My master cozen'd too,Whose pupil I am in the art of undoing men;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'dOf the land and lady, you, sans question, shall be.I'll presently think of the means. Walks by, musing.
p. 890¶Enter OVERREACH, [speaking to a Servant within]Over. Sirrah, take my horse.I'll walk to get me an appetite; 'tis but a mile,And exercise will keep me from being pursy. 5Ha! Marrall! Is he conjuring? PerhapsThe knave has wrought the prodigal to doSome outrage on himself, and now he feelsCompunction in his conscience for't: no matter,So it be done. Marrall!Mar. Sir.Over. How succeed weIn 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,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.[891]Over. Thou dolt! how dar'st thou speak this?Mar. I speak truth.And I do so but once a year, unlessIt 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,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.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,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 oneOn thy buttermilk cheeks.Mar. Shall I not trust my eyes, sir,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'dWith a beggar's plot, assisted by the aidsOf serving-men and chambermaids, for beyond theseThou never saw'st a woman, or I'll quit youFrom my employments.Mar. Will you credit this yet?On my confidence of their marriage, I offer'd WellbornAside. I would give a crown now I durst say "his worship"My nag and twenty pounds.[892]Over. Did you so, idiot! Strikes him down.Was this the way to work him to despair,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, forgettingYour late imaginary feast and lady,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:But there may be a timeOver. Do you grumble?Mar. No, sir. {Exeunt.]
Act III
¶SCENE I. [The country near Overreach's house]
¶[Enter LORD] LOVELL, ALLWORTH, and Servants
¶Lov. Walk the horses down the hill: something in privateI 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 them;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 shortOf your bounties shower'd upon me.Lov. Loving youth,Till what I purpose be put into act,Do not o'erprize it; since you have trusted me[893]With your soul's nearest, nay, her dearest secret,Rest confident 'tis in a cabinet lock'dTreachery shall never open. I have found you(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 meThan I have been in my rewards.All. Still great ones,Above my merit.Lov. Such your gratitude calls 'em;Nor am I of that harsh and rugged temperAs some great men are tax'd with, who imagineThey part from the respect due to their honoursIf they use not all such as follow 'em,Without distinction of their births, like slaves.I am not so condition'd; I can makeA fitting difference between my footboyAnd a gentleman by want compell'd to serve me.All. 'Tis thankfully acknowledg'd; you have beenMore like a father to me than a master.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 meI can command my passions.All. 'Tis a conquestFew 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 honourThan to my Allworth!All. As you are the brave Lord Lovell,Your bare word only given is an assuranceOf more validity and weight to meThan all the oaths, bound up with imprecations,[894]Which, when they would deceive, most courtiers practise;Yet being a man, (for, sure, to style you moreWould 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 standThe charge of two such potent enemies,At once assaulting you, as wealth and beauty,And those too seconded with power, is oddsToo great for Hercules.Love. Speak your doubts and fears,Since you will nourish them, in plainer language,That I may understand them.All. What's your will,Though I lend arms against myself, (providedThey may advantage you,) must be obeyed.My much-lov'd lord, were Margaret only fair,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 sensesCould batter none, but that which guards your sight.But when the well-tun'd accents of her tongueMake music to you, and with numerous 1 soundsAssault your hearing, (such as if Ulysses,Now liv'd again, howe'er he stood the Syrens,Could not resist,) the combat must grow doubtfulBetween your reason and rebellious passions.Add this too; when you feel her touch, and breathLike a soft western wind when it glides o'erArabia, creating gums and spices;And, in the van, the nectar of her lips,Which you must taste, bring the battalia on,Well arm'd, and strongly lin'd 2 with her discourse,And knowing manners, to give entertainment;—[895]Hippolytus himself would leave Diana,To follow such a Venus.Lov. Love hath made youPoetical, 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 inWith heaps of ill-got gold, and so much land,To make her more remarkable, as would tireA falcon's wings in one day to fly over.O my good lord! these powerful aids, which wouldMake a mis-shapen negro beautiful,(Yet are but ornaments to give her lustre,That in herself is all perfection,) mustPrevail for her. I here release your trust;'Tis happiness enough for me to serve youAnd 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 worldAs from your fond indulgence to a boy,Your page, your servant, to refuse a blessingDivers great men are rivals for.Lov.. SuspendYour judgment till the trial. How far is itTo Overreach's house?All. At the most, some half hour's riding;You'll soon be there.Lov. And you the sooner freedFrom your jealous fears.All. O that I durst but hope it! Exeunt.
[Enter] OVERREACH, GREEDY, and MARRALL
¶Over. Spare for no cost; let my dressers crack with the weightOf curious viands.Greedy. "Store indeed's no sore," sir.[896]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 matterThat it is made of; let my choicest linenPerfume 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. 'Twill be very chargeable.Over. Avaunt, you drudge!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 themGreedy. As I do, indeed, sir,Almost as much as to give thanks for 'em.Over. I do confer that providence,1 with my powerOf 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;For which I will eat often, and give thanksWhen 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,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![897]The gown affects me not, it should have beenEmbroider'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,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 DownfalPn?Marg. Well, for a companion;Not as a servant.Over. Is she humble, Meg,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 2 gown,(Even starv'd for want of twopenny chops,) to serve thee;And if I understand she but repinesTo 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, 3 and there let them howl together.Marg. You know your own ways; but for me, I blushWhen I command her, that was once attendedWith persons not inferior to myselfIn 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 greatThat I have run, and still pursue, those waysThat hale down curses on me, which I mind not?Part with these humble thoughts, and apt 4 thyselfTo the noble state I labour to advance thee;Or, by my hopes to see thee honourable,I will adopt a stranger to my heir,And throw thee from my care. Do not provoke me.Marg. I will not, sir; mould me which way you please.[898]Re-enter GREEDYOver. How! interrupted!Greedy. 'Tis matter of importance.The cook, sir, is self-wilPd, and will not learnFrom my experience. There's a fawn brought in, sir,And, for my life, I cannot make him roast itWith a Norfolk dumpling in the belly of it;And, sir, we wise men know, without the dumpling'Tis not worth three-pence.Over.. Would it were whole in thy belly,To stuff it out! Cook it any way; prithee, leave me.Greedy. Without order for the dumpling?Over. Let it be dumpl'dWhich way thou wilt; or tell him, I will scald himIn his own caldron.Greedy. I had lost my stomachHad I lost my mistress dumpling; I'll give thanks for't. [EXJV.]Over. But to our business, Meg; you have heard who dines here?Marg. I have, sir.Over. 'Tis an honourable man;A lord, Meg, and commands a regimentOf soldiers, and, what's rare, is one himself,A bold and understanding one; and to beA lord, and a good leader, in one volume,Is granted unto few but such as rise upThe kingdom's glory.
p. 898¶Re-enter GREEDYGreedy. I'll resign my office,If I be not better obey'd.Over. 'Slight, art thou frantic?Greedy. Frantic! 'Twould make me frantic, and stark mad,Were I not a justice of peace and quorum too,Which this rebellious cook cares not a straw for.There are a dozen of woodcocks[899]Over. Make thyselfThirteen, the baker's dozen.Greedy. I am contented,So they may be dress'd to my mind; he has found outA new device for sauce, and will not dish 'emWith toasts and butter. My father was a tailor,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 yourselfTo a collar of brawn, 5 and trouble me no further.Greedy. I will, and meditate what to eat at dinner.Over. And as I said, Meg, when this gull 6 disturb'd us,This honourable lord, this colonel,I would have thy husband.Marg. There's too much disparityBetween 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 wealthShall weigh his titles down, and make you equals.Now for the means to assure him thine, observe me:Remember he's a courtier, and a soldier,And not to be trifled with; and, therefore, whenHe comes to woo you, see you do not coy it:This mincing modesty has spoil'd many a matchBy a first refusal, in vain after hop'd for.Marg. You'll have me, sir, preserve the distance thatConfines 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,Thou wilt venture alone with one man, though he cameLike Jupiter to Semele, and come off, too;[900]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,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 offerBeyond this, do not you stay till it cool,But meet his ardour; if a couch be near,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 dispenseWith your own honour, cast aside religion,The hopes of Heaven, or fear of hell, excuse me,In worldly policy, this is not the wayTo make me his wife; his whore, I grant it may do.My maiden honour so soon yielded up,Nay, prostituted, cannot but assure himI, that am light to him, will not hold weightWhene'er1 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 armShrunk up or wither'd ? Does there live a manOf that large list I have encounter'd withCan truly say I e'er gave inch of groundNot purchas'd with his blood that did oppose me?Forsake thee when the thing is done! He dares not.Give me but proof he has enjoy'd thy person,Though all his captains, echoes to his will,[901]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,Or the judge's favour, I will make him renderA bloody and a strict account, and force him,By marrying thee, to cure thy wounded honour!I have said it.
p. 901¶Re-enter MARRALLMar. Sir, the man of honour's come,Newly alighted.Over. In, without reply;And do as I command, or thou art lost. Exit MARGARET.Is the loud music I gave order forReady to receive him?Mar. 'Tis, sir.Over. Let them soundA princely welcome. [Exit MARRALL.] Roughness awhile leave me;For fawning now, a stranger to my nature,Must make way for me.
¶Lov. Sir, you meet your trouble.Over. What you are pleas'd to style so is an honourAbove 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;But I had rather have my hand in my dumpling.Over. Room for my lord.Lov. I miss, sir, your fair daughterTo crown my welcome.Over. May it please my lordTo taste a glass of Greek wine first, and suddenlyShe shall attend my lord.[902]Lov. You'll be obey'd, sir. Exeunt all but OVERREACH.Over. 'Tis 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 greatnessThat flies into thy bosom, think what 'tisFor 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.All. [Aside.] He's ta'en already: I am lost.Over. [Aside.] That kissCame twangling 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 happyIn such a scholar: butOver. I am past learning,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 virginInto a hopeful wife.Marg. His haste, my lord,Holds no power o'er my will.Lov. But o'er your duty.Marg. Which forc'd too much, may break.Love. Bend rather, sweetest.Think of your years.[903]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,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 scarlet1 suit but ill.O, my good lord, I could say more, but thatI dare not trust these walls.Lov. Pray you, trust my ear then.
¶Re-enter OVERREACH [behind], listeningOver. Close at it! whispering! this is excellent!And, by their postures, a consent on both parts.
¶Re-enter GREEDY behindGreedy. Sir Giles, Sir Giles!Over. The great fiend stop that clapper!Greedy. It must ring out, sir, when my belly rings noon.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 barathrum2 of the shambles!Strides him.Greedy. How! strike a justice of peace! 'Tis petty treason,Edwardi quinto: but that you are my friend,I would commit you without bail or mainprize. 10Over. Leave your bawling, sir, or I shall commit youWhere you shall not dine to-day. Disturb my lord,When he is in discourse![904]Greedy. Is't a time to talkWhen we should be munching!Lov. Hah! I heard some noiseOver. Mum, villain; vanish! Shall we break a bargainAlmost 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 directYour yet uncertain bark to a port of safety.Marg. So shall your honour save two lives, and bind usYour slaves for ever.Lov. I am in the act rewarded,Since it is good; howe'er, you must put onAn amorous carriage towards me to deludeYour 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 howDoes your lordship find her ?Lov. Apt, Sir Giles, and coming;And I like her the better.Over. So do I too.Lov. Yet should we take forts at the first assault,'Twere poor in the defendant; I must confirm herWith a love-letter or two, which I must haveDeliver'd by my page, and you give way to't.Over. With all my soul:—a towardly gentleman!Your hand, good Master Allworth; know my houseIs ever open to you.All. [Aside.] 'Twas 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.Marg. I shall, with my best care.[905]Noise within, as of a coach.Over. A coach!Greedy. More stopsBefore 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 allCan be objected.Lov. How! the Lady Allworth!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; 11'Tis more than wonder! an astonishmentThat does possess me wholly!Lov. Noble lady,This is a favor, to prevent 12 my visit,The service of my life can never equal.L. All. My lord, I laid wait for you, and much hop'dYou 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,In this unequall'd beauty, for your stay,And fearing to trust any but myselfWith the relation of my service to you,I borrow'd so much from my long restraintAnd took the air in person to invite you.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?[906]Greedy. I will, when you please,And it like1 3 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 knowledgeThis gentleman; howe'er his outside's coarse. Presents WELLBORN.His inward linings are as fine and fairAs any man's; wonder not I speak at large:And howsoe'er his humour carries himTo be thus accoutred, or what taint soever,For his wild life, hath stuck upon his fame,He may, ere long, with boldness, rank himselfWith some that have contemn'd him. Sir Giles Overreach,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,Much less your nephew.Over. Well, sirrah, we shall reckonFor this hereafter.Mar. I'll not lose my jeer,Though I be beaten dead for't.Well. Let my silence pleadIn my excuse, my lord, till better leisureOffer itself to hear a full relationOf 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![907]If my belly would give me leave, I could ruminateAll day on this: I have granted twenty warrantsTo 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 foolTo stand here prating, and forget my dinner.
p. 907¶Re-enter MARRALLAre 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 inThan he expected, especially his nephew,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. 'Tis but a penance forA meal; besides, you broke your fast.Greedy. That wasBut a bit to stay my stomach. A man in commissionGive place to a tatterdemalion!Mar. No bug1 4 words, sir;Should his worship hear youGreedy. 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,Woodcock, and butter'd toasts too.Greedy. This revives me:I will gorge there sufficiently.Mar. This is the way, sir. Exeunt.[908]SCENE III. [Another room in Overreach's house]
¶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,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 IAt 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 nephewTo speak with me in private.Mar. Who! "The rogueThe lady scorned 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,In your rare garden.Over. There's an arbour too, There's aIf your ladyship please to use it.L. All. L. All. Come, Master Wellborn.
Exeunt LADY ALLWORTH and WELLBORN.
¶Over. Grosser and grosser! Now I believe the poetFeign'd not, but was historical, when he wrote[909]Pasiphae was enamour'd of a bull: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 pleasesMy dearest mistress to give warrant to it.Over. She shall seal to it, my lord, and make me happy.
¶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. 'Tis your noblenessTo think it such.L. All. I must do you a further wrongIn taking away your honourable guest.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,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 dayhear from me,By my faithful page.All. 'Tis 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, After so long an enmity between us,
¶I should desire your friendship.
p. 910¶Well. So I do, sir;'Tis 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 kinsmenPast hopes sunk in their fortunes, lend no handTo lift 'em up, but rather set our feetUpon their heads, to press 'em to the bottom;As, I must yield,1 with you I practis'd it:But, now I see you in a way to rise,I can and will assist you. This rich lady(And I am glad of't) is enamour'd of you;'Tis too apparent, nephew.Well. No such thing:Compassion rather, sir.Over. Well, in a word,Because your stay is short, I'll have you seenNo more in this base shape; nor shall she sayShe 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 clamourMay 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 elseOver. As it is, nephew.Well. Binds me still your servant.Over. No compliments; you are staid for. Ere you have supp'dYou shall hear from me. My coach, knaves, for my nephew.To-morrow I will visit you.Well. Here's an uncleIn a man's extremes! How much they do belie you,That say you are hard-hearted!Over. My deeds, nephew,Shall speak my love; what men report I weigh not. Exeunt.
Act IV
¶SCENE I. [A room in Lady Allworth's house]
[Enter LORD] LOVELL and ALLWORTH
¶Lov. 'Tis well; give me my cloak; I now discharge youFrom further service. Mind your own affairs;I hope they will prove successful.All. What is blestWith your good wisn, my lord, cannot but prosper.Let aftertimes report, and to your honour,How much I stand engag'd, for I want languageTo speak my debt; yet if a tear or twoOf joy, for your much goodness, can supplyMy tongue's defects, I couldLov. Nay, do not melt:This ceremonial thanks to me's superfluous.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.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 stomachThat croaks for breakfast. With your lordship's favour,I have a serious question to demandOf my worthy friend Sir Giles.Lov. Pray you use your pleasureGreedy. How far, Sir Giles, and pray you answer meUpon your credit, hold you it to beFrom your manor-house, to this of my Lady's Allworth's?Over. Why, some four mile.[912]Greedy. How! four mile, good Sir Giles-Upon your reputation, think better;For if you do abate but one half-quarterOf five, you do yourself the greatest wrongThat can be in the world; for four miles ridingCould not have rais'd so huge an appetiteAs 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? PratingBefore my lord! No difference! Go to my nephew,See all his debts discharg'd, and help his worshipTo fit on his rich suit.Mar. [Aside.] I may fit you too.Toss'd like a dog still! Exit.Lov. I have writ this morningA few lines to my mistress, your fair daughter.Over. 'Twill fire her, for she's wholly yours already.—Sweet Master Allworth, take my ring; 'twill carry youTo her presence, I dare warrant you; and there pleadFor 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,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,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.[913]Lov. Haste your return.All. I will not fail, my lord.Greedy. Nor I, to lineMy Christmas coffer. Exeunt GREEDY and ALLWORTH.Over. To my wish: we are private.I come not to make offer with my daughterA certain portion,—that were poor and trivial:In one word, I pronounce all that is mine,In lands or leases, ready coin or goods,With her, my lord, comes to you; nor shall you haveOne motive to induce you to believeI live too long, since every year I'll addSomething unto the heap, which shall be yours too.Lov. You are a right kind father.Over. You shall have reasonTo think me such. How do you like this seat?It is well wooded, and well water'd, the acresFertile 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,And well jbuilt pile; and she that's mistress of it,Worthy the large revenue.Over. She the mistress!It may be so for a time: but let my lordSay only that he likes it, and would have it,I say, ere long 'tis his.Lov. Impossible.Over. You do conclude too fast, not knowing me,Nor the engines' that I work by. 'Tis not aloneThe Lady Allworth's lands, for those once Wellborn's(As by her dotage on him I know they will.be,)Shall soon be mine; but point out any man'sIn all the shire, and say they lie convenientAnd useful for your lordship, and once more[914]I say aloud, they are yours.Lov. I dare not ownWhat's by unjust and cruel means extorted;My fame and credit are more dear to me,Than so to expose them to be censur'd byThe public voice.Over. You run, my lord, no hazard.Your reputation shall stand as fair,In all good men's opinions, as now;Nor can my actions, though condemn'd for ill,Cast any foul aspersion upon yours.For, though I do contemn report myselfAs a mere sound, I still will be so tenderOf 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 spotThat may take from your innocence and candour. 2All my ambition is to have my daughterRight honourable, which my lord can make her:And might I live to dance upon my kneeA young Lord Lovell, born by her unto you,I write nil ultra 3 to my proudest hopes.As for possessions and annual rents,Equivalent to maintain you in the portYour noble birth and present state requires,I do remove that burthen from your shoulders,And take it on mine own: for, though I ruinThe country to supply your riotous waste,The scourge of prodigals, want, shall never find you.Lov. Are you not frighted with the imprecationsAnd curses of whole families, made wretchedBy your sinister practices?Over. Yes, as rocks are,When foamy billows split themselves againstTheir flinty ribs; or as the moon is mov'd,[915]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,If called into the field, I can make that right,Which fearful enemies murmur'd at as wrong.Now, for these other piddling complaintsBreath'd out in bitterness; as when they call meExtortioner, tyrant, cormorant, or intruderOn my poor neighbour's right, or grand incloserOf 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 daughterRight honourable; and 'tis a powerful charmMakes me insensible of remorse, or pity,Or the leapt sting of conscience.Lov. I admire1The toughness of your nature.Over. 'Tis for you,My lord, and for my daughter, I am marble;Nay more, if you will have my characterIn little, I enjoy more true delightIn my arrival to my wealth these darkAnd crooked ways, than you shall e'er take pleasureIn spending what my industry hath compass'd.My haste commands me hence; in one word, therefore,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 advancementOne story higher: an earl! if gold can do it.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.[916]Lov. He's gone—I wonder how the earth can bearSuch 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 overIn a cold sweat: yet, like a mountain, he(Confirm'd in atheistical assertions)Is no more shaken than Olympus1 isWhen angry Boreas loads his double headWith sudden drifts of snow.
p. 916¶Enter LADY ALLWORTH, Waiting Woman, and AMBLEL. 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,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 hisBut to repeat it.L. All. I ne'er press'd, my lord,On others' privacies; yet, against my will,Walking, for health' sake, in the galleryAdjoining to your lodgings, I was made(So vehement and loud he was) partakerOf his tempting offers.Lov. Please you to commandYour servants hence, and I shall gladly hearYour 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 meTo whisper my intents.Amb. We are taught betterBy you, good madam.W. Worn. And well know our distance.[917]L. All. Do so, and talk not; 'twill become your breeding.Exeunt AMBLE and Woman.Now, my good lord; if I may use my freedom,As to an honour'd friendLov. You lessen elseYour favour to me.L. All. I dare then say thus:As you are noble (howe'er common menMake sordid wealth the object and sole endOf their industrious aims) 'twill not agreeWith those of eminent blood, who are engag'dMore to prefer1 their honours than to increaseThe state left to them by their ancestors,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;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 otherAnd cannot bide the trial; so all wealth,I mean if ill-acquir'd, cemented to honourBy 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 allowThe heir of Sir Giles Overreach, Margaret,A maid well qualified and the richest matchOur 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;Or that my husband Allworth's lands, and Wellborn's,(How wrung from both needs now no repetition,)[918]Were real motives that more work'd your lordshipTo join your families, than her form and virtues:You may conceive the rest.Lov. I do, sweet madam,And long since have consider'd it. I know,The sum of all that makes a just man happyConsists in the well choosing of his wife:And there, well to discharge it, does requireEquality of years, of birth, of fortune;For beauty being poor, and not cried upBy birth or wealth, can truly mix with neither.And wealth, where there such difference in years,And fair descent, must make the yoke uneasy:—But I come nearer.L. All. Pray you do, my lord.Lov. Were Overreach's states thrice centupl'd, his daughterMillions of degrees much fairer than she is,Howe'er I might urge precedents to excuse me,I would not so adulterate my bloodBy marrying Margaret, and so leave my issueMade up of several pieces, one part scarlet,And the other London blue. In my own tombI will inter my name first.L. All. Aside. I am glad to hear this.Why then, my lord, pretend your marriage to her ?Dissimulation but ties false knotsOn 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 strictAnd chaste nun's life, on the sudden given yourselfTo visits and entertainments ? Think you, madam,'Tis not grown public conference?1 Or the favoursWhich you too prodigally have thrown on WellbornBeing too reserv'd before, incur not censure?[919]L.AU. I am innocent here; and, on my life, I swearMy ends are good.Lov. On my soul, so are mineTo Margaret; but leave both to the event:And since this friendly privacy does serveBut as an offer'd means unto ourselves,To search each other farther, you having shewnYour care of me, I my respect to you,Deny me not, but still in chaste words, madam,An afternoon's discourse.L.All. So I shall hear you. [Exeunt.]
¶[Enter] TAPWELL and FROTHTap. 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;But now he's his uncle's darling, and has gotMaster Justice Greedy, since he fill'd his belly,At his commandment, to do anything.Woe, woe to us!Froth. He may prove merciful.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,Who dares but doubt his testimony ? Methinks,I see thee, Froth, already in a cart,For a close1 bawd, thine eyes ev'n pelted outWith dirt and rotten eggs; and my hand hissing,[920]If I scape the halter, with the letter R 2Printed 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 moneyHe owes us, and his custom; there's the hell on't.Tap. He has summon'd all his creditors by the drum,And they swarm about him like so many soldiersOn the pay day: and has found out such A NEW WAYTo PAY HIS OLD DEBTS, as 'tis very likelyHe shall be chronicled for it!Froth. He deserves itMore than ten pageants. But are you sure his worshipComes 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 itTo his good grace.
p. 920¶Enter WELLBORN in a rich habit, [followed by MARRALL,] GREEDY,ORDER, FURNACE, and Creditors; TAPWELL kneeling, delivers hisbill of debt.Well. How's this! petition'd to? 3But note what miracles the payment ofA little trash, and a rich suit of clothes,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 knownYour worship's bailiff, is the mark I shoot at.Well. And thou shalt hit it.Mar. Pray you, sir, despatchThese needy followers, and for my admittance, 4Provided you'll defend me from Sir Giles,[921]Whose service I am weary of, I'll say somethingYou shall give thanks for.Well. Fear me not, Sir Giles.Greedy. Who, Tapwell? I remember thy wife brought meLast new-year's tide, a couple of fat turkeys.Tap. And shall do every Christmas, let your worshipBut 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 soulsAs ever drew out faucet; have they notA pair of honest faces?Well. I o'erheard you,And the bribe he promis'd. You are cozen'd in them;For, of all the scum that grew rich by my riots,This, for a most unthankful knave, and this,For a base bawd and whore, have worst deserv'd me,And therefore speak not for 'em. By your placeYou are rather to do me justice. Lend me your ear:—Forget his turkeys, and call in his license,And, at the next fair, I'll give you a yoke of oxenWorth all his poultry.Greedy. I am chang'd on the suddenIn my opinion! Come near; nearer, rascal.And, now I view him better, did you e'er seeOne look so like an archknave ? His very countenance,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,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.[922]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!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?ist Cred. A decay'd vintner, sir,That might have thriv'd, but that your worship broke meWith trusting you with muscadine 5 and eggs,And five pound suppers, with your after drinkings,When you lodg'd upon the Bankside.Well. I remember.ist Cred. I have not been hasty, nor e'er laid to arrest you;And therefore, sirWell. Thou art an honest fellow,I'll set thee up again; see his bill paid.—What are you ?2nd Cred. A tailor once, but now mere botcher. 6I 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'dUnder a stall.Well. See him paid;—and botch no more.2nd 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 3RD CREDITOR.]
¶Thou wert my surgeon. You must tell no tales;Those days are done. I will pay you in private.[923]Ord. A royal gentleman!Furn. Royal as an emperor!He'll prove a brave master; my good lady knewTo 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;There's something, honest cook, for thy good breakfasts;And this, for your respect: [To ORDER] take't, 'tis good gold,And I able to spare it.Ord. You are too munificent.Furn. He was ever so.Well. Pray you, on before.yd Cred. Heaven bless you!Mar. At four o'clock; the rest know where to meet me.Exeunt ORDER, FURNACE, and Creditors.Well. Now, Master Marrall, what's the weighty secretYou promis'd to impart ?Mar. Sir, time nor placeAllow me to relate each circumstance,This only, in a word: I know Sir GilesWill come upon you for securityFor 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 debtTen times the sum, upon sale of your land;I had a hand in't (I speak it to my shame)When you were defeated1 of it.Well. That's forgiven.Mar. I shall deserve't. Then urge him to produceThe deed in which you pass'd it over to him,Which I know he'll have about him, to deliverTo the Lord Lovell, with many other writings,And present monies; I'll instruct you further,As I wait on your worship. If I play not my prize[924]To your full content, and your uncle's much vexation,Hang up Jack Marrall.Well. I rely upon thee. Exeunt.