Mar. I warrant you, sir.

[Exit Sir Giles Overreach.

Wellb. By this light, I think he's mad.

Mar. Mad! had you took compassion on yourself, You long since had been mad.

Wellb. You have took a course, Between you and my venerable uncle, To make me so.

Mar. The more pale-spirited you, That would not be instructed. I swear deeply.

Wellb. By what?

Mar. By my religion.

Wellb. Thy religion! The devil's creed: but what would you have done?

Mar. 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, as you love your credit.

Wellb. I thank you.

Mar. Will you stay till you die in a ditch? Or, if you dare not do the fate 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 despatch the business?

Wellb. Here's variety, I must confess; but I'll accept of none Of all your gentle offers, I assure you.

Mar. If you like not hanging, drown yourself; take some course For your reputation.

Wellb. '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 air Will not persuade me, or to give, or lend A token to you.

Wellb. I'll be more kind to thee. Come, thou shalt dine with me.

Mar. With you?

Wellb. Nay, more, dine gratis.

Mar. Under what hedge, I pray you? or, at whose cost? Are they padders, or gipsies, that are your consorts?

Wellb. Thou art incredulous; but thou shalt dine, Not alone at her house, but with a gallant lady; With me, and with a lady.

Mar. Lady! what lady? With the lady of the lake, or queen of fairies? For I know it must be an enchanted dinner.

Wellb. With the Lady Allworth, knave.

Mar. Nay, now there's hope Thy brain is crack'd.

Wellb. Mark there, with what respect I am entertain'd.

Mar. With choice, no doubt, of dog-whips. Why, dost thou ever hope to pass her porter?

Wellb. 'Tis not far off, go with me: trust thine own eyes.

Mar. Troth, in my hope, or my assurance, rather, To see thee curvet, and mount like a dog in a blanket, If ever thou presume to pass her threshold, I will endure thy company.

Wellb. Come along. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.—A Hall in Lady Allworth's House.

Enter Allworth, Order, Amble, and Watchall.

Allw. Your courtesies overwhelm me: I much grieve To part from this house, and yet, I find comfort; My attendance on my honourable lord, Whose resolution holds to visit my lady, Will speedily bring me back.

[Knocking at the Gate. Marall and Wellborn within.

Mar. Dar'st thou venture farther?

Wellb. Yes, yes, and knock again.

Order. 'Tis he; disperse; 'tis Mr. Wellborn.

Fur. I know my cue, ne'er doubt me.

[Exeunt Amble and Furnice.

Enter Marall and Wellborn.

Order. You were long since expected. Most welcome, sir.

Wellb. Say so much To my friend, I pray you.

Order. For your sake, I will, sir. [Exit.

Mar. For his sake!

Wellb. Mum! this is nothing.

Mar. More than ever I would have believed, though I had found it in my primer.

Allw. When I have given you reasons for my late harshness, You'll pardon, and excuse me: for, believe me; Tho' now I part abruptly in my service, I will deserve it.

Mar. Service! with a vengeance!

Wellb. I am satisfied: farewell, Tom.

Allw. All joy stay with you.

[Exit Allworth.

Enter Amble.

Amble. You are happily encounter'd: I never yet Presented one so welcome, as I know You will be to my lady.

Mar. This is some vision; Or, sure, these men are mad, to worship a dung-hill; It cannot be a truth.

Wellb. Be still a pagan, An unbelieving infidel; be so, miscreant, And meditate on blankets, and on dog-whips.

Enter Furnace.

Fur. I am glad you are come; until I know your pleasure, I knew not how to serve up my lady's dinner.

Mar. His pleasure! is it possible? [Aside.

Wellb. What's thy will?

Fur. Marry, sir, I have some growse and turkey chicken, Some rails and quails; and my lady will'd me to ask you, What kind of sauces best affect your palate, That I may use my utmost skill to please it.

Mar. The devil's enter'd this cook: sauce for his palate! That on my knowledge, for a most this twelve-month, Durst wish but cheese-parings, and brown bread on Sundays.

Wellb. That way I like them best.

Fur. It shall be done, sir. [Exit Furnace.

Wellb. 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.

Enter Order.

Order. This place becomes you not: 'Pray you, walk sir, to the dining room.

Wellb. I am well here, Till her ladyship quits her chamber.

Mar. Well here, say you! 'Tis a rare change! but yesterday, you thought Yourself well in a barn, wrapp'd up in pease-straw.

Enter Woman and Chambermaid.

Wom. O sir, you are wish'd for.

Chamb. My lady dreamt, sir, of you.

Wom. And the first command she gave After she rose, was to give her notice When you approached here.

Order. Sir, my lady.

Exit.

Enter Lady Allworth.—Salutes him.

Lady A. I come to meet you, and languished till I saw you. This first kiss for form: I allow a second, As token of my friendship.

Mar. Heaven bless me!

Wellb. I am wholly yours; yet, madam, if you please To grace this gentleman with a salute——

Mar. Salute me at his bidding!

Wellb. I shall receive it As a most high favour. [To Marall.

Lady A. Sir, your friends are welcome to me.

Wellb. Run backward from a lady! and such a lady!

Mar. To kiss her foot, is to poor me, a favour I am unworthy of. [Offers to kiss her Foot.

Lady A. 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 enough To sit at your steward's.

Lady A. You are too modest: I will not be denied.

Enter Order.

Order. Dinner is ready for your ladyship.

Lady A. Your arm, Mr. Wellborn: Nay, keep us company.

Mar. I was never so grac'd. Mercy on me!

[Exeunt Wellborn, Lady Allworth, Amble, and Marall.

Enter Furnace.

Order. So, we have play'd our parts, and are come off well. But if I know the mystery, why my lady Consented to it, or why Mr. Wellborn Desir'd it, may I perish!

Fur. 'Would I had The roasting of his heart, that cheated him, And forces the poor gentleman to these shifts! Of all the griping and extorting tyrants I ever heard or read of, I never met A match to Sir Giles Overreach.

Watch. What will you take To tell him so, fellow Furnace?

Fur. Just as much As 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 years On a suit of fourteen groats, bought of the hangman, To grow rich, 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 still increases In wealth and lordships.

Order. 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 never Lodg'd so unluckily.

Enter Amble.

Amble. Ha! ha! I shall burst.

Order. Contain thyself, man.

Fur. Or make us partakers Of your sudden mirth.

Amble. Ha! ha! my lady has got Such a guest at her table, this term-driver, Marall, This snip of an attorney.

Fur. What of him, man?

Amble. The knave stinks, and feeds so slovenly!

Fur. Is this all?

Amble. My lady Drank to him for fashion's sake, or to please Mr. Wellborn, As I live, he rises, and takes up a dish, In which there were some remnants of a boil'd capon, And pledges her in white broth. And when I brought him wine, He leaves his chair, and after a leg or two, Most humbly thanks my worship.

Order. Rose already!

Amble. I shall be chid.

Enter Lady Allworth, Wellborn, and Marall.

Fur. My lady frowns.

Lady A. You attended us well. Let me have no more of this: I observ'd your leering. Sirrah, I'll have you know, whom I think worthy To sit at my table, be he ne'er so mean, When I am present, is not your companion.

Order. Nay, she'll preserve what's due to her.

Lady A. You are master Of 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 house That is your own.

Wellb. Mark that.

Mar. With reverence, sir, And it like your worship.

Wellb. Trouble yourself no farther, Dear madam; my heart's full of zeal and service. However in my language I am sparing. Come, Mr. Marall.

Mar. I attend your worship.

[Exeunt Wellborn and Marall.

Lady A. I see in your looks you are sorry, and you know me An easy mistress: be merry! I have forgot all. Order and Furnace, come with me; I must give you Farther directions. [Exit.

Order. What you please.

Fur. We are ready. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.—The Country.

Enter Wellborn and Marall.

Wellb. I think I am in a good way.

Mar. Good sir, the best way; The certain best way.

Wellb. There are casualties That men are subject to.

Mar. You are above 'em: As you are already worshipful, I hope, ere long, you will increase in worship, And be right worshipful.

Wellb. Pr'thee do not flout me, What I shall be, I shall be. Is't for your ease, You keep your hat off.

Mar. Ease, and it like your worship! I hope Jack Marall shall not live so long, To prove himself such an unmannerly beast, Though it hail hazel nuts, as to be covered, When your worship's present.

Wellb. Is not this a true rogue, [Aside. That out of mere hope of a future coz'nage Can 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 still Under correction), I hope I shall not Incur your high displeasure.

Wellb. No; speak freely.

Mar. Then in my judgment, sir, my simple judgment, (Still with your worship's favour) I could wish you A better habit, for this cannot be But much distasteful to the noble lady That loves you: I have twenty pounds here, Which, out of my true love, I presently Lay down at your worship's feet; 'twill serve to buy you A riding suit.

Wellb. But Where's the horse?

Mar. My gelding Is at your service: nay, you shall ride me, Before your worship shall be put to the trouble To walk a-foot. Alas! when you are lord Of this lady's manor (as I know you will be), You may with the lease of glebe land, Requite your vassal.

Wellb. I thank thy love; but must make no use of it. What's twenty pounds?

Mar. 'Tis all that I can make, sir.

Wellb. Dost thou think, though I want clothes, I could not have 'em, For one word to my lady?

Mar. As I know not that—

Wellb. Come, I'll tell thee a secret, and so leave thee. I'll not give her the advantage, tho' she be A gallant-minded lady, after we are married To hit me in the teeth, and say she was forc'd To buy my wedding clothes, Or took me with a plain suit, and an ambling nag, No, I'll be furnish'd something like myself. And so farewell; for thy suit touching the glebe land, When it is mine, 'tis thine.

Mar. I thank your worship. [Exit Wellborn. How was I cozen'd in the calculation Of 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, Mr. Wellborn, You are of a sweet nature, and fit again to be cheated: Which, if the fates please, when you are possess'd Of the land and lady, you, sans question, shall be. I'll presently think of the means.

[Walks by, musing.

Enter Sir Giles Overreach.

Sir G. Sirrah, take my horse; I'll walk to get me an appetite. 'Tis but a mile; And exercise will keep me from being pursy. Ha! Marall! is he conjuring? Perhaps The knave has wrought the prodigal to do Some outrage on himself, and now he feels Compunction in his conscience for't: no matter, So it be done. Marall!

Mar. Sir!

Sir G. How succeed we In our plot on Wellborn?

Mar. Never better, sir.

Sir G. Has he hang'd, or drown'd himself?

Mar. No sir, he lives, Lives once more to be made a prey to you: And greater prey than ever.

Sir G. Art thou in thy wits? If thou art, reveal this miracle, and briefly.

Mar. A lady, sir, has fall'n in love with him.

Sir G. With him! What lady?

Mar. The rich Lady Allworth.

Sir G. Thou dolt! how darst thou speak this?

Mar. I speak true; And I do so but once a year: unless It be to you, sir. We din'd with her ladyship: I thank his worship.

Sir G. 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, at his request, welcom'd me too.

Sir G. Why, thou rascal, To tell me these impossibilities: Dine at her table! and kiss him! Impudent varlet! Have not I myself, To whom great countesses' doors have oft flown open, Ten times attempted, since her husband's death, In vain to see her, tho' 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 one into Thy cheeks.

Mar. Shall I not trust my eyes, sir? Or taste? I feel her good cheer in my belly.

Sir G. You shall feel me, if you give not over, sirrah! Recover your brains again, and be no more gull'd With a beggar's plot, assisted by the aids Of serving men; and chambermaids; for, beyond these, Thou never saw'st a woman; or, I'll quit you From my employments.

Mar. Will you credit this, yet? On my confidence of their marriage, I offered Wellborn (I would give a crown now, I durst say his worship [Aside. My nag, and twenty pounds.

Sir G. Did you so? [Strikes him down. Was this the way to work him to despair, Or rather to cross me?

Mar. Will your worship kill me?

Sir G. No, no; but drive the lying spirit out of you.

Mar. He's gone.

Sir G. I have done, then. Now forgetting Your late imaginary feast and lady, Know, my Lord Lovell dines with me tomorrow: Be careful, not be wanting to receive him; And bid my daughter's women trim her up, Tho' they paint her, so she catch the lord, I'll thank 'em. There's a piece for my late blows.

Mar. I must yet suffer: But there may be a time— [Aside.

Sir G. Do you grumble?

Mar. O no, sir. [Exeunt.



ACT. III.

SCENE I.—The Country.

Enter Lovell and Allworth.

Lov. Drive the carriage down the hill: something in private I must impart to Allworth.

Allw. O, my lord! What sacrifice of reverence, duty, watching; Although I could put off the use of sleep, And ever wait on your commands to serve 'em. What danger, tho' in ne'er so horrid shapes, Nay death itself, though I should run to meet it, Can I, and with a thankful willingness, suffer: But still the retribution will fall short Of your bounties shower'd upon me.

Lov. Loving youth, Till what I purpose be put into act, Do not o'erprize it: since you have trusted me With your soul's nearest, nay, her dearest secret, Rest confident, 'tis in a cabinet lock'd, Treachery shall never open. I have found you More zealous in your love and service to me Than I have been in my rewards.

Allw. Still great ones, Above my merit. You have been More like a father to me than a master. 'Pray you pardon the comparison.

Lov. I allow it; And give you assurance I'm pleas'd in't. My carriage and demeanour to your mistress. Fair Margaret shall truly witness for me, I can command my passion.

Allw. 'Tis a conquest Few lords can boast of when they are tempted—Oh!

Lov. So young, and jealous!

Allw. Were you to encounter with a single foe, The victory were certain: but to stand The charge of two such potent enemies, At once assaulting you, as wealth and beauty, And those two seconded with power, is odds Too great for Hurcules. Hippolitus himself would leave Diana, To follow such a Venus.

Lov. Love hath made you Poetical, Allworth. How far is it To Overreach's?

Allw. At the most, some half hour's riding; You'll soon be there.

Lov. And you the sooner freed From your jealous fears.

Allw. Oh that I durst but hope it! [Exeunt.

SCENE II.—A Hall in Sir Giles's house.

Enter Sir Giles Overreach, Greedy and Marall.

Sir G. Spare for no cost, let my dressers crack with the weight Of curious viands.

Greedy. Store indeed's no sore, sir.

Sir G. That proverb fits your stomach, Mr. Greedy.

Greedy. It does indeed, Sir Giles. I do not like to see a table ill spread, Poor, meager, just sprinkled o'er with salads, Slic'd beef, giblets, and pigs' pettitoes. But the substantials—Oh! Sir Giles the substantials! The state of a fat Turkey now, The decorum, the grandeur he marches in with. Then his sauce, with oranges and onions, O, I declare, I do much honour a chine of beef! O lord! I do reverence a loin of veal!

Sir G. You shall have your will, Mr. Greedy. And let no plate be seen, but what's pure gold, Or such, whose workmanship exceeds the matter That it is made of; let my choicest linen Perfume the room; and when we wash, the water With precious powders mix, to please my lord, That he may with envy wish to bathe so ever.

Mar. 'Twill be very chargeable.

Sir G. Avaunt, you drudge! Now all my labour'd ends are at the stake, Is't time to think of thrift? Call in my daughter.

Exit Marall.

And, master of justice, since you love choice dishes, And plenty of 'em——

Greedy. As I do indeed, sir. Almost as much as to give thanks for 'em—

Sir G. I do confer that province, with my power Of absolute command, to have abundance, To your best care.

Greedy. I'll punctually discharge it, And give the best direction. [Sir Giles retires.]—Now am I, In mine own conceit, a monarch, at the least, Arch president of the boil'd, the roast, the baked; I would not change my empire for the great Mogul's, Mercy on me, how I lack food! my belly Is grown together like an empty satchell. What an excellent thing did Heaven bestow on man, When she did give him a good stomach! It is of all blessings much the greatest. I will eat often and give thanks When my belly's brac'd up like a drum, and that's pure justice.

Exit.

Sir G. 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. Margaret!

Enter Margaret.

Marg. Your pleasure, sir?

Sir G. Ha! this is a neat dressing! These orient pearls, and diamonds well plac'd too! The gown affects me not; it should have been Embroider'd o'er and o'er with flowers of gold; But these rich jewels and quaint fashion help it. How like you your new woman, the Lady Downfall'n!

Marg. Well for a companion: Not as a servant.

Sir G. Is she humble, Meg? And careful too, her ladyship forgotten?

Marg. I pity her fortune.

Sir G. Pity her! trample on her. I took her up in an old tatter'd gown (E'en starv'd for want of food), to serve thee; And if I understand she but repines To do thee any duty, though ne'er so servile, I'll pack her to her knight, where I have lodg'd him, In the country, and there let them howl together.

Marg. You know your own ways; but for me, I blush When I command her that was once attended With persons not inferior to myself In birth.

Sir G. In birth! Why, art thou not my daughter, The blest child of my industry and wealth? Why, foolish girl, was't not to make thee great, That I have run, and still pursue those ways That hale down curses on me, which I mind not? Part with these humble thoughts, and apt thyself To the noble state I labour to advance thee; Or, by my hopes to see thee honourable, I will adopt a stranger to my heir, And throw thee from my care; do not provoke me.

Marg. I will not, sir; mould me which way you please.

Enter Greedy.

Sir G. How! interrupted?

Greedy. 'Tis matter of importance. The cook, sir, is self-will'd, and will not learn From my experience. There's a fawn brought in, sir, And for my life, I cannot make him roast it With a Norfolk dumpling in the belly of it: And, sir, we wise men know, without the dumpling 'Tis not worth three pence.

Sir G. 'Would it were whole in thy belly, To stuff it out; cook it any way—pr'ythee, leave me.

Greedy. Without order for the dumpling?

Sir. G. Let it be dumpled Which way thou wilt: or, tell him I will scald him In his own cauldron.

Greedy. I had lost my stomach, Had I lost my mistress's dumpling; I'll give ye thanks for't.

Exit.

Sir G. But to our business, Meg; you have heard who dines here?

Marg. I have, sir.

Sir G. 'Tis an honourable man. A lord, Meg, and commands a regiment Of soldiers; and what's rare, is one himself; A bold and understanding one; and to be A lord, and a good leader in one volume, Is granted unto few, but such as rise up, The kingdom's glory.

Enter Greedy.

Greedy. I'll resign my office, If I be not better obey'd.

Sir G. '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, For which he has found out A new device for sauce, and will not dish 'em With toast and butter.

Sir G. Cook, rogue, obey him. I have given the word, pray you, now, remove yourself To a collar of brawn, and trouble me no farther.

Greedy. I will; and meditate what to eat at dinner, For my guts have been in the kitchen this half hour. [Exit.

Sir G. And, as I said, Meg, when this gull disturb'd us, This honourable lord, this colonel, I would have thy husband.

Marg. There's too much disparity Between his quality and mine, to hope it.

Sir G. I more than hope it, and doubt not to effect it. Be thou no enemy to thyself; my wealth Shall 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, when He comes to woo you, see you do not coy it. This mincing modesty hath spoil'd many a match By a first refusal, in vain after hop't for.

Marg. You'll have me, sir, preserve the distance that Confines a virgin?

Sir G. Virgin me no virgins. I will have you lose that name, or you lose me; I will have you private; start not, I say, private.

Marg. Though you can dispense With your honour, I must guard my own. This is not the way to make me his wife. My modest breeding yielded up so soon, Cannot but assure him, I, that am light to him, will not hold weight When tempted by others: so in judgment, When to his will I have given up my honour, He must, and will, forsake me.

Sir G. How! forsake thee? Do I wear a sword for fashion? or is this arm Shrunk up, or wither'd? Does there live a man Of that large list I have encounter'd with, Can truly say I e'er gave inch of ground, Not purchas'd with his blood that did oppose me? Forsake thee when the thing is done! he dares not. Though all his captains, echoes to his will, Stood arm'd by his side, to justify the wrong, Spite of his lordship, I will make him render A bloody and a strict account; and force him, By marrying thee, to cure thy wounded honour; I have said it.

Enter Marall.

Mar. Sir, the man of honour's come, Newly alighted.

Sir G. In, without reply, And do as I command, or thou art lost.

Exit Margaret.

Is the loud music, I gave order for, Ready to receive him?

Mar. 'Tis, sir.

Sir G. Let 'em sound A princely welcome. [Exit Marall.) Roughness awhile leave me; For fawning now, a stranger to my nature, Must make way for me.

Enter Lovell, Allworth, Marall, and Greedy.

Lov. Sir, you meet your trouble.

Sir G. What you are pleased to style so is an honour Above my worth and fortunes.

Allw. Strange! so humble.

Sir G. A justice of peace, my lord.

[Presents Greedy to him.

Lov. Your hand, good sir.

Greedy. This is a lord; and some think this is a favour; But I had rather have my hand in my dumpling. [Aside.

Sir G. Room for my lord.

Lov. I miss, sir, your fair daughter, To crown my welcome.

Sir G. May it please my lord To taste a glass of Greek wine first; and suddenly She shall attend my lord.

Lov. You'll be obey'd, sir.

[Exeunt all but Sir Giles.

Sir G. 'Tis to my wish; as soon as come, ask for her! Why, Meg! Meg Overreach!

Enter Margaret.

How! Tears in your eyes? Hah! dry 'em quickly, or I'll dig 'em out. Is this a time to whimper? Meet that greatness That flies into thy bosom; think what tis For me to say, my honourable daughter: No more but be instructed, or expect— He comes.

Enter Lovell and Greedy.

A black-brow'd girl, my lord.

Lov. As I live, a rare one!

Sir G. That kiss Came twanging off, I like it: quit the room.

Exit Greedy.

A little bashful, my good lord: but you, I hope, will teach her boldness.

Lov. I am happy In such a scholar: but——

Sir G. I am past learning, And therefore leave you to yourselves: remember—

Exit Sir Giles.

Lov. You see, fair lady, your father is solicitous To have you change the barren name of virgin Into a hopeful wife.

Marg. His haste, my lord, Holds no power o'er my will.

Lov. But o'er your duty——

Marg. Which forc'd too much may break.

Lov. Bend rather, sweetest: Think of your years.

Marg. Too few to match with yours:

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 low descent, however rich. O my good lord, I could say more, but that I dare not trust these walls.

Lov. 'Pray you, trust my ear, then.

Enter Sir Giles Overreach, listening.

Sir G. Close at it! whispering! this is excellent! And, by their postures, a consent on both parts.

Enter Greedy.

Greedy. Sir Giles! Sir Giles!

Sir G. The great fiend stop that clapper!

Greedy. It must ring out, sir, when my belly rings noon. The bak'd meats are ran out, the roast turn'd powder.

Sir G. Stop your insatiate jaws, or I shall powder you.

Greedy. Beat me to dust, I care not; In such a cause as this I'll die martyr.

Sir G. Disturb my lord, when he is in discourse?

Greedy. Is't a time to talk When we should have been munching?

Sir G. Peace, villain! peace! shall we break a bargain Almost made up? Vanish I say.

Thrusts Greedy off.

Lov. Lady, I understand you: Overreach. Rest most happy in your choice. Believe it, I'll be a careful pilot to direct Your yet uncertain bark to a port of safety.

Marg. So shall your honour save two lives, and bind us Your slaves forever.

Lov. I am in the act rewarded, Since it is good; howe'er you must put on An amorous carriage towards me, to delude Your subtle father.

Marg. I am bound to that.

Lov. Now break off our conference,—Sir Giles Where is Sir Giles?

Enter Sir Giles Overreach, Greedy, Allworth, and Marall.

Sir G. My noble lord; and how Does your lordship find her?

Lov. Apt, Sir Giles, and coming, And I like her the better.

Sir G. So do I too.

Lov. Yet, should we take forts at the first assault, 'Twere poor in the defendant. I must confirm her? With a love-letter or two, which I must have Deliver'd by my page, and you give way to't.

Sir G. With all my soul.—A towardly gentleman! Your hand, good Mr. Allworth; know my house Is ever open to you.

Allw. 'Twas still shut till now. [Aside.

Sir G. Well done, well done, my honourable daughter, Thou'rt so already: know this gentle youth, And cherish him, my honourable daughter.

Sir G. What noise?

Greedy. More stops Before we go to dinner! O my guts!

Enter Lady Allworth and Wellborn.

Lady. A. If I find welcome, You share in it; if not, I'll back again, Now I know your ends! for I come arm'd for all Can be objected.

Lov. How! the Lady Allworth?

Sir G. And thus attended!

Mar. No, I am a dolt; the spirit of lies had entered me!

Lovell salutes Lady Allworth, who salutes Margaret.

Sir G. Peace, patch, 'Tis more than wonder, an astonishment That does possess me wholly.

Lov. Noble Lady, This is a favour to prevent my visit, The service of my life can never equal.

Lady A. My lord, I laid wait for you, and much hop'd You would have made my poor house your first inn: And therefore, doubting that you might forget me, Or too long dwell here, having such ample cause, In this unequal beauty, for your stay; And fearing to trust any but myself With the relation of my service to you, I borrow'd so much from my long restraint, And took the air in person to invite you.

Lov. Your bounties are so great, they rob me, madam, Of words to give you thanks.

Lady A. Good Sir Giles Overreach! [Salutes him. How dost thou, Marall? Lik'd you my meat so ill, You'll dine no more with me?

Greedy. I will when you please, And it like your ladyship.

Lady A. When you please, Mr. Greedy; If meat can do it, you shall be satisfied; And now, my lord, pray take into your knowledge This gentleman; howe'er his outside's coarse,

Presents Wellborn.

His inward linings are as fine and fair As any man's. Wonder not I speak at large: And howsoe'er his humour carries him To be thus accoutr'd; or what taint soe'er, For his wild life has stuck upon his fame; He may, ere long, with boldness rank himself With some that have condemn'd him. Sir Giles Overreach, If I am Welcome, bid him so.

Sir G. My nephew! He hath been too long a stranger: 'faith you have. Pray let it be mended.

[Lovell conferring 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.

Sir G. Well, sirrah, we shall reckon For this hereafter.

Mar. I'll not lose my jeer, Though I be beaten dead for it.

Wellb. Let my silence plead In my excuse, my lord, till better leisure Offer itself, to hear a full relation Of my poor fortunes.

Lov. I would hear and help them. [Bell rings.

Sir G. Your dinner waits you.

Lov. 'Pray you, lead, we follow.

Lady A. Nay, you are my guest? Come, dear Mr. Wellborn. [Exeunt all but Greedy.

Greedy. Dear Mr. Wellborn! so she said; Heav'n! aven! If my belly would give me leave, I could ruminate All day on this: I have granted twenty warrants To have him committed, from all prisons in the shire, To Nottingham jail! and now, dear Mr. Wellborn! And my good nephew!—But I play the fool To stand here prating, and forget my dinner.

Enter Marall.

Are they set, Marall?

Mar. Long since; pray you a word, sir.

Greedy. No wording now.

Mar. In troth, I must: my master, Knowing you are his good friend, makes bold with you, And does entreat you, more guests being come in Than he expected, especially his nephew, The table being too full, 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 for A meal; besides, you have broke your fast.

Greedy. That was But a bit to stay my stomach. A man in commission Give place to a tatterdemallion!

Mar. No big words, sir. Should his worship hear you——

Greedy. Loose my dumpling too; And butter'd toasts and woodcocks?

Mar. Come, have patience, If you will dispense a little with your justiceship, And sit with the waiting woman, you'll have dumpling, Woodcock, and butter'd toasts too.

Greedy. This revives me: I will gorge there sufficiently.

Enter Sir Giles Overreach, as from dinner.

Sir G. She's caught! O woman! she neglect my lord, And all her compliments apply to Wellborn! The garment 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, 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. But why grieve I At this? It makes for me; if she prove his, All that is hers, is mine, as I will work him.

Enter Marall.

Mar. Sir, the whole board is troubled at your rising.

Sir G. No matter, I'll excuse it; pr'ythee, Marall, watch an occasion to invite my nephew To speak with me in private.

Mar. Who, the rogue, The lady scorn'd to look on?

Sir G. Hold your peace! My good lord, Excuse my manners.

Enter Lovell, Margaret, and Allworth.

Lov. There needs none, Sir Giles; I may ere long say father, when it please My dearest mistress to give warrant to it.

Sir G. She shall seal to it my lord, and make me happy.

Marg. My lady—

Enter Wellborn and Lady Allworth.

Lady A. My thanks, Sir Giles, for my entertainment.

Sir G. 'Tis your nobleness To think it such.

Lady A. I must do you a farther wrong, In taking away your honourable guest.

Lov. I wait on you, madam: farewell good Sir Giles.

Lady A. Nay, come, Mr. Wellborn, I must not leave you behind, in sooth, I must not.

Sir G. 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.

Lady A. Stay not long, sir.

Lov. You shall every day hear from me, By my faithful page. [To Margaret.

Allw.'Tis a service I am proud of.

[Exeunt Lovell, Lady Allworth, Allworth, and Marall.

Sir G. Daughter, to your chamber.

[Exit Margaret.

You may wonder, nephew, After so long an enmity between us, I shall desire your friendship.

Wellb. So I do, sir: Tis strange to me.

Sir G. But I'll make it no wonder; And, what is more, unfold my nature to you. We worldly men, when we see friends and kinsmen, Past hope, sunk in their fortunes, lend no hand To lift 'em up, but rather set our feet Upon their heads, to press 'em to the bottom; As I must yield, 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.

Wellb. No such thing: Compassion, rather, sir.

Sir G. Well, in a word, Because your stay is short, I'll have you seen No more in this base shape; nor shall she say, She married you like a beggar, or in debt.

Wellb. He'll run into the noose, and save my labour! [Aside.

Sir G. You have a trunk of rich clothes, not far hence, In pawn; I will redeem 'em: and, that no clamour May taint your credit for your debts, You shall have a thousand pounds to cut 'em off, And go a freeman to the wealthy lady.

Wellb. This done, sir, out of love, and no ends else—

Sir G. As it is, nephew.

Wellb. Binds me still your servant.

Sir G. No compliments; you are staid for: ere you've supp'd, You shall hear from me. My coach, knaves! for my nephew: Tomorrow I will visit you.

Wellb. Here's an uncle In a man's extremes? how much they do belie you, That say you are hard hearted!

Sir G. My deeds, nephew, Shall speak my love; what men report, I weigh not.

[Exeunt.



ACT IV.

SCENE I—A Chamber in Lady Allworth's House.

Lovell and Allworth discovered.

Lov. 'Tis well. I now discharge you From farther service. Mind your own affairs; I hope they will prove successful.

Allw. What is blest With your good wish, my lord, cannot but prosper. Let after-times report, and to your honour, How much I stand engag'd; for I want language To speak my debt: yet if a tear or two Of joy, for your much goodness, can supply My tongue's defects, I could——

Lov. Nay, do not melt: This ceremonial of thanks to me's superfluous.

Sir G. [Within.] Is my lord stirring?

Lov. 'Tis he! Oh, here's your letter; let him in.

Enter Sir Giles, Greedy, and Marall.

Sir G. A good day to my lord.

Lov. You are an early riser, Sir Giles.

Sir G. And reason, to attend to your lordship.

Lov. And you too, Mr. Greedy, up so soon?

Greedy. In troth, my lord, after the sun is up I cannot sleep; for I have a foolish stomach, That croaks for breakfast. With your lordship's favour, I have a serious question to demand Of my worthy friend, Sir Giles.

Lov. Pray you, use your pleasure.

Greedy. How far, Sir Giles, and 'pray you, answer me Upon your credit, hold you it to be, From your manor-house, to this of my Lady Allworth's?

Sir G. Why, some four miles.

Greedy. How! four miles, good Sir Giles? Upon your reputation think better; For four miles riding Could not have rais'd so huge an appetite As I feel gnawing on me.

Mar. Whether you ride Or go a-foot, you are that way still provided, And it please your worship.

Sir G. How now, sirrah! prating Before my lord! no difference? go to my nephew, See all his debts discharged, and help his worship To fit on his rich suit.

Mar. I may fit you too. [Exit Marall.

Lov. I have writ this morning A few lines to my mistress, your fair daughter.

Sir G. Twill fire her, for she's wholly yours already. Sweet Mr. Allworth, take my ring; 'twill carry To her presence, I warrant you; and there plead For my good lord, if you shall find occasion. That done, pray ride to Nottingham; get a license, Still, by this token. I'll have it despatch'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 that abundantly.

Sir G. 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 preparative. I am no camelion, to feed on air; but love To see the board well spread, Groaning under the heavy burden of the beast That cheweth the cud, and the fowl That cleaveth the air. Come, young gentleman, I will not have you feed alone, while I am here.

Lov. Haste your return.

Allw. I will not fail, my lord.

Greedy. Nor I, to line My Christmas coffer.

[Exeunt Greedy and Allworth.

Sir G. To my wish, we're private, I come not to make offer with my daughter A certain portion; that were poor and trivial: In one word, I pronounce all that is mine, In lands, or leases, ready coin, or goods, With her, my lord, comes to you; nor shall you have One motive to induce you to believe I live too long, since every year I'll add Something unto the heap, which shall be yours too.

Lov. You are a right kind father.

Sir G. You shall have reason To think me such. How do you like this seat? It is well wooded, and well water'd, the acres Fertile and rich; would it not serve for change, To entertain your friends in a summer's progress? What thinks my noble lord?

Lov. 'Tis a wholesome air, And well built; and she, that's mistress of it, Worthy the large revenue.

Sir G. She the mistress? It may be so for a time; but let my lord Say only, that he but like it, and would have it, I say, ere long 'tis his.

Lov. Impossible!

Sir G. You do conclude too fast, not knowing me, Nor the engines that I work by. 'Tis not alone The 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's In all the shire, and say they lie convenient, And useful for your lordship, and once more I say aloud, they are yours.

Lov. I dare not own What's by unjust and cruel means extorted. My fame and credit are more dear to me, Than to expose 'em to be censur'd by The public voice.

Sir G. 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 condemned for ill, Cast any foul aspersion upon yours. For though I do contemn report myself, As a mere sound; I still will be so tender Of what concerns you in all points of honour, That the immaculate whiteness of your fame, Nor your unquestioned integrity, Shall e'er be sullied with one taint or spot; All my ambition is to have my daughter Right honourable, which my lord can make her: And might I live to dance upon my knee A young Lord Lovell, born by her unto you, I write nil ultra to my proudest hopes.

Lov. Are you not frightened with the imprecations And curses of whole families, made wretched By such practices?

Sir G. Yes, as rocks are, When foamy billows split themselves against Their flinty ribs; or as the moon is mov'd, 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. Nay, when my ears are pierc'd with widow's cries. And undone orphans wash with tears my threshold, I only think what 'tis, to have my daughter Right Honourable; and 'tis a powerful charm, Makes me insensible of remorse, or pity, Or the least sting of conscience. In one word, therefore, Is it a match my lord?

Lov. I hope that is past doubt now.

Sir G. Then rest secure; not the hate of all mankind here, Nor fear of what can fall on me hereafter, Shall make me study aught but your advancement One story higher. An earl! if gold can do it. Dispute not my religion, nor my faith, Though I am borne thus headlong to my will; You may make choice of what belief you please, To me thy are equal; so, my lord, good morrow.

[Exit.

Lov. He's gone; I wonder how the earth can bear Such a monster! I, that have liv'd a soldier, And stood the enemy's violent charge undaunted, To hear this horrid beast, I'm bath'd all over In a cold sweat; yet, like a mountain, he Is no more shaken than Olympus is, When angry Boreas loads his double head With sudden drifts of snow.

Enter Lady Allworth.

Lady A. '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 mattins. That I should think it a sin, next to his, But to repeat it.

Lady A. I ne'er press'd, my lord, On others privacies; yet, against my will, Walking, for health's sake, in the gallery Adjoining to our lodgings, I was made (So loud and vehement he was) partaker Of his tempting offers. But, My good lord, If I may use my freedom, As to an honour'd friend——

Lov. You lessen else Your favour to me.

Lady A. I dare then say thus: (However common men Make sordid wealth the object and sole end Of their industrious aims), 'twill not agree With those of noble blood, of fame and honour.

Lov. Madam, 'tis confess'd; But what infer you from it?

Lady A. This, my lord: I allow The heir of Sir Giles Overreach, Margaret, A maid well qualified, and the richest match Our north part can boast of; yet she cannot, With all 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 no repetition,) Were real motives, that more work'd your lordship To join your families, than her form and virtues. You may conceive the rest.

Lov. I do, sweet madam; And long since have consider'd it. And this my resolution, mark me, madam; Were Overreach's 'states thrice centupled; his daughter Millions of degrees much fairer than she is, I would not so adulterate my blood By marrying Margaret. In my own tomb I will inter my name first.

Lady A. Why then, my lord, pretend you marriage to her? Dissimulation but ties false knots On that straight line, by which you hitherto Have measured all your actions.

Lov. I make answer, And aptly, with a question. Wherefore have you, That since your husband's death have liv'd a strict And chaste nun's life, on the sudden given yourself To visits and entertainments? Think you, madam, 'Tis not grown public conference? or the favours Which you too prodigally have thrown on Wellborn, Incur not censure?

Lady A. I am innocent here; and, on my life, I swear My ends are good.

Lov. On my soul, so are mine To Margaret; but leave both to the event: And now this friendly privacy does serve But as an offer'd means unto ourselves To search each other farther; you have shown Your care of me, I my respect to you. Deny me not, but still in chaste words, madam, An afternoon's discourse.

Lady A. Affected modesty might deny your suit, But such your honour; I accept it, lord. My tongue unworthy can't belie my heart. I shall attend your lordship. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.—A Landscape before Tapwell's House.

Enter Tapwell and Froth.

Tap. Undone, undone! this was your counsel, Froth.

Froth. Mine! I defy thee: did not Master Marall (He has marr'd all, I am sure) strictly command us (On pain of Sir Giles Overreach's displeasure) To turn the gentleman out of doors?

Tap. 'Tis true; But now he's his uncle's darling, and has got Master Justice Greedy (since he fill'd his belly) At his commandment to do any thing; Wo, wo 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; 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, And my hand hissing (if I 'scape the halter) With the letter R printed upon it.

Froth. 'Would that were the worst! That were but nine days wonder: as for credit, We have none to loose; but we shall lose the money He owes us, and his custom; there's the worst on't.

Tap. He has summon'd all his creditors by the drum, And they swarm about him like so many soldiers On the pay day; and has found such a new way To pay his old debts, as, 'tis very likely, He shall be chronicled for it.

Froth. He deserves it More than ten pageants. But are you sure his worship Comes this way to my lady's?

[A Cry Within, Brave Mr. Wellborn!]

Tap. Yes, I hear him.

Froth. Be ready with your petition, and present it To his good grace.

Enter Wellborn, in a rich Habit; Greedy, Marall, Amble, Order, Furnace, and Three Creditors; Tapwell, kneeling, delivers his Bill of Debt.

Wellb. How's this! petitioned too? But note what miracles the payment of A 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.

Wellb. Then look thou for advancement.

Mar. To be known Your worship's bailiff, is the mark I shoot at.

Wellb. And thou shalt hit it.

Mar. Pray you, sir, despatch, And for my admittance.

[In this Interim, Tapwell and Froth flattering and bribing Justice Greedy.

(Provided you'll defend me from Sir Giles, Whose service I am weary of) I'll say something You shall give thanks for.

Wellb. Fear him not.

Greedy. Who, Tapwell? I remember thy wife brought me Last new year's tide, a couple of fat turkeys.

Tap. And shall do every Christmas, let your worship But stand my friend now.

Greedy. How! with Mr. Wellborn? I can do any thing with him, on such terms—— See you this honest couple? they are good souls As ever drew out spigot; have they not A pair of honest faces?

Wellb. 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 quean, have worse deserv'd; And therefore speak not for them. By your place, You are rather to do me justice; lend me your ear, Forget his turkeys, and call in his license, And every season I will send you venison, Shall feast a mayor and the corporation.

Greedy. I am changed on the sudden In my opinion——Mum! my passion is great! I fry like a burnt marrowbone—Come nearer, rascal. And now I view him better, did you e'er see One look so like an arch knave? his very countenance, Should an understanding judge but look upon him, Would hang him, though he were innocent.

Tap and Froth. Worshipful sir!

Greedy. No; though the great Turk came instead of turkeys, To beg my favour, I am inexorable. 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. 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 show any, may my promis'd venison choke me.

Tap. Unthankful knaves are ever so rewarded.

[Exeunt Tapwell and Froth.

Wellb. Speak; what are you?

1 Cred. A decayed vintner, sir, That might have thriv'd, but that your worship broke me, With trusting you with muscadine and eggs, And five pound suppers, with your after-drinkings, When you lodged upon the bankside.

Wellb. I remember.

1 Cred. I have not been hasty, nor e'er laid to arrest you; And therefore, sir——

Wellb. Thou art an honest fellow: I'll set thee up again: see this bill paid. What are you?

2 Cred. A tailor once, but now mere botcher. I gave you credit for a suit of clothes, Which was all my stock; but you failing in payment, I was remov'd from the shop-board, and confin'd Under a stall.

Wellb. See him paid; and botch no more.

2 Cred. I ask no interest, sir.

Wellb. Such tailors need not: If their bills are paid in one and twenty years, They are seldom losers. See all men else discharg'd; And since old debts are clear'd by a new way, A little bounty will not misbecome me. Pray you, on before. I'll attend you at dinner.

Greedy. For Heaven's sake, don't stay long; It is almost ready.

[Exeunt Greedy, Order, Furnace Amble, and Creditors.

Wellb. Now, Mr. Marall, what's the weighty secret, You promis'd to impart?

Mar. Sir, time nor place Allow me to relate each circumstance; This only in a word: I know Sir Giles Will come upon you for security For his thousand pounds: which you must not consent to. As he grows in heat (as I am sure he will) Be you but rough, and say he's in your debt Ten times the sum, upon sale of your land: I had a hand in't (I speak it to my shame) When you were defeated of it.

Wellb. That's forgiven.

Mar. I shall deserve then——urge him to produce The deed in which you pass'd it over to him, Which I know he'll have about him to deliver To the Lord Lovell. I'll instruct you farther, As I wait on your worship; if I play not my part To your full content, and your uncle's much vexation, Hang up Jack Marall.

Wellb. I rely upon thee. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.—A Chamber in Sir Giles's House.

Enter Allworth and Margaret.

Allw. Whether to yield the first praise to my lord's Unequal'd temperance, or your constant sweetness, 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 which My vows, in that high office register'd, Are faithful witnesses.

Allw. 'Tis true, my dearest; Yet, when I call to mind, how many fair ones Make wilful shipwreck of their faiths and oaths. To fill the arms of greatness; And you, with matchless virtue, thus to hold out, Against the stern authority of a father, And spurn at honour, when it comes to court you; I am so tender of your good, that I can hardly Wish myself that right you are pleas'd to do me.

Marg. To me what's title when content is wanting? Or wealth, when the heart pines In being dispossess'd of what it longs for? Or the smooth brow Of a pleas'd sire, that slaves me to his will? And, so his ravenous humour may be feasted By my obedience, and he see me great, Leaves to my soul nor faculties nor power To make her own election.

Allw. But the dangers That follow the repulse.

Marg. 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 drop'd on my hearse, In sorrow for my fate, will call back life, So far as but to say, that I die yours, I then shall rest in peace.

Allw. Heaven avert Such trials of your true affection to me! Nor will it unto you, that are all mercy, Show so much rigour. But since we must run Such desperate hazards, let us do our best To steer between them.

Marg. Lord Lovell is your friend; And, though but a young actor, second me, In doing to the life what he has plotted.

Enter Sir Giles Overreach.

The end may yet prove happy: now, my Allworth.

Allw. 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: But in this peremptory, nay, commanding, way, T'appoint a meeting, and without my knowledge; A priest to tie the knot, can ne'er be undone Till death unloose it, is a confidence In his lordship that will deceive him.

Allw. I hope better, good lady.

Marg. Hope, sir, what you please: for me, I must take a safe and secure course; I have A father, and without his full consent, Though all lords of the land kneel'd for my favour, I can grant nothing.

Sir G. I like this obedience. But whatsoever my lord writes, must and shall be Accepted and embrac'd. [Aside.]—Sweet Mr. Allworth, You show yourself a true and faithful servant To your good lord; he has a jewel of you. How! frowning, Meg! are these looks to receive A messenger from my lord? What's this? give me it.

Marg. A piece of arrogant paper, like th'inscriptions.

[Sir Giles reads the letter.

Fair mistress, from your servant learn, all joys That we can hope for, if deferr'd prove toys; Therefore this instant, and in private, meet A husband, that will gladly at your feet Lay down his honours, tend'ring them to you With all content, the church being paid her due.

Sir G. Is this the arrogant piece of paper? fool! Will you still be one? In the name of madness, what Could his good honour write more to content you? Is there aught else to be wish'd after these two That are already offer'd? 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 invited, To honour the solemnity.

Allw. An't please your honour, (For so before tomorrow I must style you,) My lord desires this privacy, in respect His honourable kinsmen are far off, And his desires to have it done brook not So long delay as to expect their coming; And yet he stands resolv'd, with all due pomp, To have his marriage at court celebrated, When he has brought your honour up to London.

Sir G. He tells you true; 'tis the fashion on my knowledge: Yet the good lord, to please your peevishness, Must put it off, forsooth.

Marg. I could be contented, Were you but by, to do a father's part, And give me in the church.

Sir G. So my lord have you, What do I care who gives you? since my lord Does purpose to be private, I'll not cross him. I know not, Mr. Allworth, how my lord May be provided, and therefore there's a purse Of gold: 'twill serve this night's expense; tomorrow I'll furnish him with any sums. In the meantime Use my ring to my chaplain; he is beneficed At my manor of Gotham, and call'd Parson Welldo: 'Tis no matter for a license, 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'd, Were such a stain upon me—If you please, sir, Your presence would be better.

Sir G. Still perverse? I say again, I will not cross my lord, Yet I'll prevent you too—Paper and ink there.

Allw. I can furnish you.

Sir G. I thank you, I can write then.

[Writes on his Book.

Allw. You may, if you please, leave out the name of my lord, In respect he comes disguis'd, and only write, Marry her to this gentleman.

Sir G. Well advis'd. [Margaret kneels. 'Tis done: away—my blessing, girl? thou hast it. Nay, no reply—begone, good Mr. Allworth; This shall be the best night's work you ever made.

Allw. I hope so, sir.

[Exeunt Allworth and Margaret.

Sir G. Farewell. Now all's cocksure. Methinks I hear already knights and ladies Say, Sir Giles Overreach, how is it with Your honourable daughter? has her honour Slept well tonight? or, will her honour please To accept this monkey, dog, or paroquet? (This is state in ladies) or my eldest son To be her page, to wait upon her?—— My ends, my ends are compass'd! then for Wellborn And the lands; were he once married to the widow— I have him here——I can scarce contain myself, I am so full of joy; nay, joy all over! [Exit.



ACT. V.

SCENE I.—A Chamber in Lady Allworth's House.

Enter Lovell and Lady Allworth.

Lady A. By this you know how strong the motives were That did, my lord, induce me to dispense A little with my gravity, to advance The plots and projects of the down-trod Wellborn. Nor shall I e'er repent the action, For he, that ventur'd all for my dear husband, Might justly claim an obligation from me, To pay him such a courtesy: which had I Coyly, or over curiously deny'd, It might have argued me of little love To the deceas'd.

Lov. What you intended, madam, For the poor gentleman, hath found good success; For, as I understand, his debts are paid, And he once more furnish'd for fair employment: But all the arts that I have us'd to raise The fortunes of your joy and mine, young Allworth, Stand yet in supposition, though I hope well. For the young lovers are in wit more pregnant Than their years can promise; and for their desires, On my knowledge they equal.

Lady A. Though my wishes Are with yours, my lord; yet give me leave to fear The building, though well grounded. To deceive Sir Giles (that's both a lion and a fox In his proceedings) were a work beyond The strongest undertakers; not the trial Of two weak innocents.

Lov. Despair not, madam: Hard things are compass'd oft by easy means. The cunning statesman, that believes he fathoms The counsels of all kingdoms on the earth, Is by simplicity oft overreach'd.

Lady A. May be so. The young ones have my warmest wishes.

Lov. O, gentle lady, let them prove kind to me You've kindly heard—now grant my suit. What say you, lady?

Lady A. Troth, my lord, My own unworthiness may answer for me; For had you, when I was in my prime, Presented me with this great favour, I could not but have thought it as a blessing, Far, far beyond my merit.

Lov. You are too modest. In a word, Our years, our states, our births, are not unequal. If then you may be won to make me happy, But join your hand to mine, and that shall be A solemn contract.

Lady A. I were blind to my own good, Should I refuse it; yet, my lord, receive me As such a one; the study of whose whole life Shall know no other object but to please you.

Lov. If I return not, with all tenderness, Equal respect to you, may I die wretched!

Lady A. There needs no protestation, my lord, To her, that cannot doubt—You are welcome, sir.

Enter Wellborn.

Now you look like yourself.

Wellb. And will continue that I am, Your creature, madam, and will never hold My life mine own, when you please to demand it.

Lov. It is a thankfulness that well becomes you; You could not make choice of a better shape To dress your mind in.

Lady A. For me, I am happy That my endeavours prosper'd. Saw you of late Sir Giles, your uncle?

Wellb. I heard of him, madam, By his minister, Marall: he's grown into strange passions About his daughter. This last night he look'd for Your lordship, at his house; but, missing you, And she not yet appearing, his wise head Is much perplex'd and troubled.

Lov. I hope my project took.

Lady A. I strongly hope.

Sir G. [Without.] Ha! find her, booby; thou huge lump of nothing, I'll bore thine eyes out else.

Wellb. May it please your lordship, For some ends of mine own, but to withdraw A little out of sight, though not of hearing.— You may, perhaps, have sport.

Lov. You shall direct me. [Exit.

Enter Overreach, drawing in Marall.

Sir G. I shall sol fa you, rogue!

Mar. Sir, for what cause Do you use me thus?

Sir G. 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 box, That has slept in my cabinet these three years, I'll rack thy soul for't.

Mar. I may yet cry 'quittance; Though now I suffer, and dare not resist. [Aside.

Sir G. 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 them joy: And, as an entrance to her place of honour, See your ladyship on her left hand.

Lady A. When I know, Sir Giles, Her state requires such ceremony, I shall pay it; But, in the meantime, I give you to understand, I neither know Nor care where her honour is.

Sir G. When you once see her Supported, and led by the lord her husband, You'll be taught better.—Nephew!

Wellb. Well.

Sir G. No more!

Wellb. 'Tis all I owe you.

Sir G. Have your redeem'd rags Made you thus insolent?

Wellb. Insolent to you? [In scorn. Why, what are you, sir, unless in years, more than myself?

Sir G. His fortune swells him: 'Tis rank—he's married.

Lady A. This is excellent!

Sir G. Sir, in calm language (though I seldom use it), I am familiar with the cause that makes you Bear up thus bravely; there's a certain buzz Of a stolen marriage; Do you hear? of a stolen marriage; In which, 'tis said, there's somebody hath been cozen'd. I name no parties. [Lady Allworth turns away.

Wellb. Well, sir; and what follows?

Sir G. Marry, this: since you are peremptory, remember, Upon mere hope of your great match, I lent you A thousand pounds; put me in good security, And suddenly, by mortgage or by statute, Of some of your new possessions, or I'll have you Dragg'd in your lavender robe, to the jail; you know me, And therefore do not trifle.

Wellb. Can you be So cruel to your nephew, now he's in The way to rise? Was this the courtesy You did me in pure love, and no ends else?

Sir G. End me no ends; engage the whole estate, And force your spouse to sign it: you shall have Three or four thousand more to roar and swagger, And revel in bawdy taverns.

Wellb. And beg after: Mean you not so?

Sir G. My thoughts are mine, and free. Shall I have security?

Wellb. No, indeed, you shall not: Nor bond, nor bill, nor bare acknowledgement. Your great looks fright not me.

Sir G. But my deeds shall.—— Out-brav'd! [They both draw.

Enter Two Servants.

Lady A. Help! murder! murder!

Wellb. Let him come on; With all his wrongs and injuries about him, Arm'd with his cut throat practices to guard him; The right I bring with me will defend me, And punish his extortion.

Sir G. That I had thee But single in the field!

Lady A. You may; but make not My house your quarrelling scene.

Sir G. Were't in a church, By heaven and hell, I'll do't.

Mar. Now put him to The showing of the deed.

Wellb. This rage is vain, sir; For fighting, fear not, you shall have your hands full, Upon the least incitement: and whereas You 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 recover A debt that's truly due to me from you, In value ten times more than what you challenge.

Sir G. I in thy debt! oh, impudence! Did I not purchase The land left by thy father? that rich land, That had continued in Wellborn's name Twenty descents; which, like a riotous fool, Thou didst make sale of? Is not here The deed that does confirm it mine?

Mar. Now, now!

Wellb. I do acknowledge none; I ne'er pass'd o'er Such land: I grant, for a year or two, You had it in trust: which, if you do discharge Surrendering the possession, you shall ease Yourself and me of chargeable suits in law; Which, if you prove not honest (as I doubt it), Must, of necessity, follow.

Lady A. In my judgment, He does advise you well.

Sir G. Good, good! conspire With your new husband, lady; second him In his dishonest practices; but, when This manor is extended to my use, You'll speak in an humbler key, and sue for favor.

Wellb. Let despair first seize me.

Sir G. Yet, to shut up thy mouth, and make thee give Thyself the lie, the loud lie—I draw out The precious evidence: If thou canst forswear Thy hand and seal, and make a forfeit of Thy ears to the pillory—see, here's that will make My interest clear.

[Shows the Deed out of his Pocket.

Ha!—

Lady A. A fair skin of parchment!

Wellb. Indented, I confess, and labels too; But neither wax nor words. How, thunderstruck! Is this your precious evidence? Is this that makes Your interest clear?

Sir G. I am o'erwhelmed with wonder! What prodigy was this? what subtle devil Hath raz'd out the inscription? the wax Turn'd into dust, Made nothing! do you deal with witches, rascal? There's a statute for you which will bring Your neck in a hempen circle;

[Throws away the deed.

Yes there is. And now 'tis better thought; for, cheater, know This juggling shall not save you.

Wellb. To save thee, Would beggar the stock of mercy.

Sir G. Marall?

Mar. Sir!

Sir G. Though the witnesses are dead,

[Flattering him.

Your testimony. Help with an oath or two; and for thy master, Thy liberal master, my good honest servant, I know you will swear any thing, to dash This cunning slight: besides, I know thou art A public notary, and such stands in law For a dozen witnesses; the deed being drawn too By thee, my careful Marall, and deliver'd When thou wert 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.

Sir G. Wilt thou betray me?

Mar. Keep him From using of his hands, I'll use my tongue To his no little torment.

Sir G. My own varlet Rebel against me?

Mar. Yes, and unease you too. The idiot! the patch! the slave! the booby! The property fit only to be beaten For your morning exercise? your football, or Th'unprofitable lump of flesh, your drudge, Can now anatomize you, and lay open All your black plots; level with the earth Your hill of pride, and shake, Nay pulverize, the walls you think defend you.

Lady A. How he foams at the mouth with rage!

Sir G. O, that I had thee in my gripe, I would tear thee Joint after joint!

Mar. I know you are a tearer. But I'll have first your fangs pared off; and then Come nearer to you; when I have discover'd, And made it good before the judge what ways And devilish practices you us'd to cozen with.

Wellb. [Keep between them.] All will come out.

Sir G. But that I will live, rogue, to torture thee, And make thee wish, and kneel in vain to die; 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.

Wellb. I think so: You dare do any ill; yet want true valour To be honest, and repent.

Sir G. They are words I know not, No e'er will learn. Patience, the beggar's virtue, Shall find no harbour here.—After these storms, At length a calm appears.

Enter Greedy and Parson Welldo.

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.

Welldo. Married? yes, I assure you!

Sir G. Then vanish all sad thoughts! My doubts and fears are in the title drown'd Of my right honourable, right honourable daughter.

Greedy. Here will be feasting, at least for a month!

Sir G. Instantly be here?

[Whispering to Welldo.

To my wish! to my wish! Now you that plot against me, And hoped to trip my heels up; that contemn'd me; Think on't, and tremble. [Loud Music.] They come, I hear the music. A lane there! Make way there for my lord. [Music.

Enter Allworth and Margaret.

Marg. Sir, first your pardon, then your blessing with Your full allowance of the choice I have made. As ever you could make use of your reason, [Kneels. Grow not in passion; since you may as well Call back the day that's past, as untie the knot Which is so strongly fasten'd. Not to dwell too long on words, This is my husband.

Sir G. How!

Allw. So I assure you; all the rites of marriage With every circumstance are past. And, for right honourable son-in-law, you may say Your dutiful daughter.

Sir G. Devil! are they married?

Welldo. Do a father's part, and say Heaven give them joy!

Sir G. Confusion and ruin! Speak, and speak quickly, Or thou art dead.

Welldo. They are married.

Sir G. Thou hadst better Have made a contract with the king of fiends Than these.——My brain turns!

Welldo. Why this rage to me? Is not this your letter, sir? and these the words? Marry her to this gentleman.

Sir G. It cannot; Nor will I ever believe it: 'sdeath! I will not. That I, that in all passages I touch'd At worldly profit, have not left a print Where I have trod, for the most curious search To trace my footsteps; should be gull'd by children! Baffled and fool'd; and all my hopes and labours Defeated, and made void.

Welb. As it appears, You are so, my grave uncle.

Sir G. Village nurses Revenge their wrongs with curses; I'll not waste A syllable, but thus I take the life Which wretched I gave to thee.

[Offers to kill Margaret.

Lov. 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 hopes for peace or rest hereafter?

Sir G. Lord! thus I spit at thee, And at thy council; and again desire thee, As thou art a soldier, if thy valour Dares show itself where multitude and example Lead not the way, let's quit the house, and change Six words in private.

Lov. I am ready.

Wellb. You'll grow like him, Should you answer his vain challenge.

Sir G. Are you pale? Borrow his help, though Hercules call it odds, I'll stand against both. Say, they were a squadron Of pikes lined through with shot; when I am mounted Upon my injuries, shall I fear to charge them? No: I'll through the battalia, and that routed,

[Flourishing his Sword, sheathed.

I'll fall to execution.—Ha! I am feeble: Some undone widow sits upon mine arm, And takes away the use of't; and my sword, Glew'd to my scabbard with wrong'd orphans' tears, Will not be drawn. [Servants hold him. Ha! what are these?—Sure, hangmen, That come to bind my hands, and then to drag me Before the judgment seat.—Now, they are new shapes, And do appear like furies, with steel whips, To scourge my ulcerous soul: Shall I then fall Ingloriously, 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.—

[Dragged off by Order and Amble.

Mar. It's brave sport!

Greedy. Brave sport? I'm sure it has ta'en away my stomach. I do not like the sauce!

Allw. Nay, weep not, my dearest,

[To Margaret.

Though it express your pity! what's decreed Above, you cannot alter.

Mar. Was it not a rare trick, (An't please your worship) to make the deed nothing.

Wellb. I pray thee discover, what cunning Means you us'd to raze out the conveyance.

Mar. Certain minerals I us'd, Incorporated in the ink and wax. Besides, he gave me nothing, but still fed me With hopes and blows: and that was the inducement To this conundrum. If it please your worship To call to memory, this mad beast once caus'd me To urge you to drown or hang yourself; I'll do the like to him if you command me.

Wellb. You are a rascal. He that dares be false To a master, though unjust, will ne'er be true To any other. Look not for reward, Or favour from me; I will shun thy sight, As I would do a basilisk's.

Greedy. I'll commit him, If you'll have me, sir.

Wellb. Not a word, But instantly be gone.

[Exit Marall.

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 guardians In his distraction: and for your land, Mr. Wellborn, Be it good or ill in law, I'll be an umpire Between you, and this the undoubted heir Of Sir Giles Overreach: for me, here's the anchor That I must fix on.

[Takes Lady Allworth's hand.

Allw. What you shall determine, My lord, I will allow of.

Wellb. It is a time of action; if your lordship Will please to confer a company upon me In your command, I doubt not, in my service, To my king and country, but I shall do something That may make me right again.

Lov. Your suit is granted, And you lov'd for the motion.

Wellb. Nothing wants then

[To the Audience.

But your allowance—and, in that, our all Is comprehended; it being known, nor we, Nor even the comedy itself is free, Without your manumission. That Obtain'd, Our utmost wish we hold, and from the store Of ancient wit, produce one genius more; While honest Massinger himself, to night Shall teach our modern witlings how to write.

THE END