ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I.—The neighbourhood of Edmonton. A Room in the House of Sir Arthur Clarington.
Enter Frank Thorney and Winnifred, who is with child.
Frank. Come, wench; why, here’s a business soon dispatched:
Thy heart I know is now at ease; thou need’st not
Fear what the tattling gossips in their cups
Can speak against thy fame; thy child shall know
Whom to call dad now.
Win. You have here discharged
The true part of an honest man; I cannot
Request a fuller satisfaction
Than you have freely granted: yet methinks
’Tis an hard case, being lawful man and wife,
We should not live together.
Frank. Had I failed
In promise of my truth to thee, we must
Have then been ever sundered; now the longest
Of our forbearing either’s company
Is only but to gain a little time
For our continuing thrift; that so hereafter
The heir that shall be born may not have cause
To curse his hour of birth, which made him feel
The misery of beggary and want,—
Two devils that are occasions to enforce
A shameful end. My plots aim but to keep
My father’s love.
Win. And that will be as difficult
To be preserved, when he shall understand
How you are married, as it will be now,
Should you confess it to him.
Frank. Fathers are
Won by degrees, not bluntly, as our masters
Or wrongèd friends are; and besides I’ll use
Such dutiful and ready means, that ere
He can have notice of what’s past, th’ inheritance
To which I am born heir shall be assured;
That done, why, let him know it: if he like it not,
Yet he shall have no power in him left
To cross the thriving of it.
Win. You who had
The conquest of my maiden-love may easily
Conquer the fears of my distrust. And whither
Must I be hurried?
Frank. Prithee do not use
A word so much unsuitable to the constant
Affections of thy husband: thou shalt live
Near Waltham Abbey with thy uncle Selman;
I have acquainted him with all at large:
He’ll use thee kindly; thou shalt want no pleasures,
Nor any other fit supplies whatever
Thou canst in heart desire.
Win. All these are nothing
Without your company.
Frank. Which thou shalt have
Once every month at least.
Win. Once every month!
Is this to have an husband?
Frank. Perhaps oftener;
That’s as occasion serves.
Win. Ay, ay; in case
No other beauty tempt your eye, whom you
Like better, I may chance to be remembered,
And see you now and then. Faith, I did hope
You’d not have used me so: ’tis but my fortune.
And yet, if not for my sake, have some pity
Upon the child I go with; that’s your own:
And ’less you’ll be a cruel-hearted father,
You cannot but remember that.
Heaven knows how—
Frank. To quit which fear at once,
As by the ceremony late performed
I plighted thee a faith as free from challenge
As any double thought; once more, in hearing
Of Heaven and thee, I vow that never henceforth
Disgrace, reproof, lawless affections, threats,
Or what can be suggested ’gainst our marriage,
Shall cause me falsify that bridal oath
That binds me thine. And, Winnifred, whenever
The wanton heat of youth, by subtle baits
Of beauty, or what woman’s art can practise,
Draw me from only loving thee, let Heaven
Inflict upon my life some fearful ruin!
I hope thou dost believe me.
Win. Swear no more;
I am confirmed, and will resolve to do
What you think most behoveful for us.
Frank. Thus, then;
Make thyself ready; at the furthest house
Upon the green without the town, your uncle
Expects you. For a little time, farewell!
Win. Sweet,
We shall meet again as soon as thou canst possibly?
Frank. We shall. One kiss—away! [Exit Winnifred.
Enter Sir Arthur Clarington.
Sir Arth. Frank Thorney!
Frank. Here, sir.
Sir Arth. Alone? then must I tell thee in plain terms
Thou hast wronged thy master’s house basely and lewdly.
Frank. Your house, sir?
Sir Arth. Yes, sir: if the nimble devil
That wantoned in your blood rebelled against
All rules of honest duty, you might, sir,
Have found out some more fitting place than here
To have built a stews in. All the country whispers
How shamefully thou hast undone a maid,
Approved for modest life, for civil carriage,
Till thy prevailing perjuries enticed her
To forfeit shame. Will you be honest yet,
Make her amends and marry her?
Frank. So, sir,
I might bring both myself and her to beggary;
And that would be a shame worse than the other.
Sir Arth. You should have thought on this before, and then
Your reason would have overswayed the passion
Of your unruly lust. But that you may
Be left without excuse, to salve the infamy
Of my disgracèd house, and ’cause you are
A gentleman, and both of you my servants,
I’ll make the maid a portion.
Frank. So you promised me
Before, in case I married her. I know
Sir Arthur Clarington deserves the credit
Report hath lent him, and presume you are
A debtor to your promise: but upon
What certainty shall I resolve? Excuse me
For being somewhat rude.
Sir Arth. It is but reason.
Well, Frank, what think’st thou of two hundred pounds
And a continual friend?
Frank. Though my poor fortunes
Might happily prefer me to a choice
Of a far greater portion, yet, to right
A wrongèd maid and to preserve your favour,
I am content to accept your proffer.
Sir Arth. Art thou?
Frank. Sir, we shall every day have need to employ
The use of what you please to give.
Sir Arth. Thou shall have’t.
Frank. Then I claim
Your promise.—We are man and wife.
Sir Arth. Already?
Frank. And more than so, sir, I have promised her
Free entertainment in her uncle’s house
Near Waltham Abbey, where she may securely
Sojourn, till time and my endeavours work
My father’s love and liking.
Sir Arth. Honest Frank!
Frank. I hope, sir, you will think I cannot keep her
Without a daily charge.
Sir Arth. As for the money,
’Tis all thine own! and though I cannot make thee
A present payment, yet thou shalt be sure
I will not fail thee.
Frank. But our occasions—
Sir Arth. Nay, nay,
Talk not of your occasions; trust my bounty;
It shall not sleep.—Hast married her, i’faith, Frank?
’Tis well, ’tis passing well!—then, Winnifred,
Once more thou art an honest woman. Frank,
Thou hast a jewel; love her; she’ll deserve it.
And when to Waltham?
Frank. She is making ready;
Her uncle stays for her.
Sir Arth. Most provident speed.
Frank, I will be thy friend, and such a friend!—
Thou’lt bring her thither?
Frank. Sir, I cannot; newly
My father sent me word I should come to him.
Sir Arth. Marry, and do; I know thou hast a wit
To handle him.
Frank. I have a suit t’ye.
Sir Arth. What is’t?
Anything, Frank; command it.
Frank. That you’ll please
By letters to assure my father that
I am not married.
Sir Arth. How!
Frank. Some one or other
Hath certainly informed him that I purposed
To marry Winnifred; on which he threatened
To disinherit me:—to prevent it,
Lowly I crave your letters, which he seeing
Will credit; and I hope, ere I return,
On such conditions as I’ll frame, his lands
Shall be assured.
Sir Arth. But what is there to quit[412]
My knowledge of the marriage?
Frank. Why, you were not
A witness to it.
Sir Arth. I conceive; and then—
His land confirmed, thou wilt acquaint him throughly
With all that’s past.
Frank. I mean no less.
Sir Arth. Provided
I never was made privy to’t.
Frank. Alas, sir,
Am I a talker?
Sir Arth. Draw thyself the letter,
I’ll put my hand to’t. I commend thy policy;
Thou’rt witty, witty, Frank; nay, nay, ’tis fit:
Dispatch it.
Frank. I shall write effectually. [Exit.
Sir Arth. Go thy way, cuckoo;—have I caught the young man?
One trouble, then, is freed. He that will feast
At other’s cost must be a bold-faced guest.
Re-enter Winnifred in a riding-suit.
Win, I have heard the news; all now is safe;
The worst is past: thy lip, wench [Kisses her]: I must bid
Farewell, for fashion’s sake; but I will visit thee
Suddenly, girl. This was cleanly carried;
Ha! was’t not, Win?
Win. Then were my happiness,
That I in heart repent I did not bring him
The dower of a virginity. Sir, forgive me;
I have been much to blame: had not my lewdness[413]
Given way to your immoderate waste of virtue,
You had not with such eagerness pursued
The error of your goodness.
Sir Arth. Dear, dear Win,
I hug this art of thine; it shows how cleanly
Thou canst beguile, in case occasion serve
To practise; it becomes thee: now we share
Free scope enough, without control or fear,
To interchange our pleasures; we will surfeit
In our embraces, wench. Come, tell me, when
Wilt thou appoint a meeting?
Win. What to do?
Sir Arth. Good, good, to con the lesson of our loves,
Our secret game.
Win. O, blush to speak it further!
As you’re a noble gentleman, forget
A sin so monstrous: ’tis not gently done
To open a cured wound: I know you speak
For trial; ’troth, you need not.
Sir Arth. I for trial?
Not I, by this good sunshine!
Win. Can you name
That syllable of good, and yet not tremble
To think to what a foul and black intent
You use it for an oath? Let me resolve[414] you:
If you appear in any visitation
That brings not with it pity for the wrongs
Done to abusèd Thorney, my kind husband,—
If you infect mine ear with any breath
That is not thoroughly perfumed with sighs
For former deeds of lust,—may I be cursed
Even in my prayers, when I vouchsafe
To see or hear you! I will change my life
From a loose whore to a repentant wife.
Sir Arth. Wilt thou turn monster now? art not ashamed
After so many months to be honest at last?
Away, away! fie on’t!
Win. My resolution
Is built upon a rock. This very day
Young Thorney vowed, with oaths not to be doubted,
That never any change of love should cancel
The bonds in which we are to either bound
Of lasting truth: and shall I, then, for my part
Unfile the sacred oath set on record
In Heaven’s book? Sir Arthur, do not study
To add to your lascivious lust the sin
Of sacrilege; for if you but endeavour
By any unchaste word to tempt my constancy
You strive as much as in you lies to ruin
A temple hallowed to the purity
Of holy marriage. I have said enough;
You may believe me.
Sir Arth. Get you to your nunnery;
There freeze in your cold cloister: this is fine!
Win. Good angels guide me! Sir, you’ll give me leave
To weep and pray for your conversion?
Sir Arth. Yes:
Away to Waltham! Pox on your honesty!
Had you no other trick to fool me? well,
You may want money yet.
Win. None that I’ll send for
To you, for hire of a damnation.
When I am gone, think on my just complaint:
I was your devil; O, be you my saint! [Exit.
Sir Arth. Go, go thy ways; as changeable a baggage
As ever cozened knight: I’m glad I’m rid of her.
Honest! marry, hang her! Thorney is my debtor;
I thought to have paid him too; but fools have fortune. [Exit.
SCENE II.—Edmonton. A Room in Carter’s House.
Enter Old Thorney and Carter.
O. Thor. You offer, Master Carter, like a gentleman; I cannot find fault with it, ’tis so fair.
Car. No gentleman I, Master Thorney; spare the Mastership, call me by my name, John Carter. Master is a title my father, nor his before him, were acquainted with; honest Hertfordshire yeomen; such an one am I; my word and my deed shall be proved one at all times. I mean to give you no security for the marriage money.
O. Thor. How! no security? although it need not so long as you live, yet who is he has surety of his life one hour? Men, the proverb says, are mortal; else, for my part, I distrust you not, were the sum double.
Car. Double, treble, more or less, I tell you, Master Thorney, I’ll give no security. Bonds and bills are but terriers to catch fools, and keep lazy knaves busy; my security shall be present payment. And we here about Edmonton hold present payment as sure as an alderman’s bond in London, Master Thorney.
O. Thor. I cry you mercy, sir; I understood you not.
Car. I like young Frank well, so does my Susan too; the girl has a fancy to him, which makes me ready in my purse. There be other suitors within, that make much noise to little purpose. If Frank love Sue, Sue shall have none but Frank. ’Tis a mannerly girl, Master Thorney, though but a homely man’s daughter; there have worse faces looked out of black bags, man.
O. Thor. You speak your mind freely and honestly. I marvel my son comes not; I am sure he will be here some time to-day.
Car. To-day or to-morrow, when he comes he shall be welcome to bread, beer, and beef, yeoman’s fare; we have no kickshaws: full dishes, whole bellyfuls. Should I diet three days at one of the slender city-suppers, you might send me to Barber-Surgeons’ hall the fourth day, to hang up for an anatomy.[415]—Here come they that—
Enter Warbeck with Susan, Somerton with Katherine.
How now, girls! every day play-day with you? Valentine’s day too, all by couples? Thus will young folks do when we are laid in our graves, Master Thorney; here’s all the care they take. And how do you find the wenches, gentlemen? have they any mind to a loose gown and a strait shoe? Win ’em and wear ’em; they shall choose for themselves by my consent.
War. You speak like a kind father.—Sue, thou hear’st
The liberty that’s granted thee; what say’st thou?
Wilt thou be mine?
Sus. Your what, sir? I dare swear
Never your wife.
War. Canst thou be so unkind,
Considering how dearly I affect thee,
Nay, dote on thy perfections?
Sus. You are studied,
Too scholar-like, in words I understand not.
I am too coarse for such a gallant’s love
As you are.
War. By the honour of gentility,—
Sus. Good sir, no swearing; yea and nay with us
Prevail above all oaths you can invent.
War. By this white hand of thine,—
Sus. Take a false oath!
Fie, fie! flatter the wise; fools not regard it,
And one of these am I.
War. Dost thou despise me?
Car. Let ’em talk on, Master Thorney; I know Sue’s mind. The fly may buzz about the candle, he shall but singe his wings when all’s done; Frank, Frank is he has her heart.
Som. But shall I live in hope, Kate?
Kath. Better so
Than be a desperate man.
Som. Perhaps thou think’st it is thy portion
I level at: wert thou as poor in fortunes
As thou art rich in goodness, I would rather
Be suitor for the dower of thy virtues
Than twice thy father’s whole estate; and, prithee,
Be thou resolved[416] so.
Kath. Master Somerton,
It is an easy labour to deceive
A maid that will believe men’s subtle promises;
Yet I conceive of you as worthily
As I presume you to deserve.
Som. Which is,
As worthily in loving thee sincerely
As thou art worthy to be so beloved.
Kath. I shall find time to try you.
Som. Do, Kate, do;
And when I fail, may all my joys forsake me!
Car. Warbeck and Sue are at it still. I laugh to myself, Master Thorney, to see how earnestly he beats the bush, while the bird is flown into another’s bosom. A very unthrift, Master Thorney; one of the country roaring-lads: we have such as well as the city, and as arrant rake-hells as they are, though not so nimble at their prizes of wit. Sue knows the rascal to an hair’s-breadth, and will fit him accordingly.
O. Thor. What is the other gentleman?
Car. One Somerton; the honester man of the two by five pound in every stone-weight. A civil fellow; he has a fine convenient estate of land in West Ham, by Essex: Master Ranges, that dwells by Enfield, sent him hither. He likes Kate well; I may tell you I think she likes him as well: if they agree, I’ll not hinder the match for my part. But that Warbeck is such another—I use him kindly for Master Somerton’s sake; for he came hither first as a companion of his: honest men, Master Thorney, may fall into knaves’ company now and then.
War. Three hundred a-year jointure, Sue.
Sus. Where lies it?
By sea or by land? I think by sea.
War. Do I look like a captain?
Sus. Not a whit, sir.
Should all that use the seas be reckoned captains,
There’s not a ship should have a scullion in her
To keep her clean.
War. Do you scorn me, Mistress Susan?
Am I a subject to be jeered at?
Sus. Neither
Am I a property for you to use
As stale[417] to your fond wanton loose discourse:
Pray, sir, be civil.
War. Wilt be angry, wasp?
Car. God-a-mercy, Sue! she’ll firk him, on my life, if he fumble with her.
Enter Frank.
Master Francis Thorney, you are welcome indeed; your father expected your coming. How does the right worshipful knight, Sir Arthur Clarington, your master?
Frank. In health this morning.—Sir, my duty.
O. Thor. Now
You come as I could wish.
War. [Aside] Frank Thorney, ha!
Sus. You must excuse me.
Frank. Virtuous Mistress Susan,
Kind Mistress Katharine. [Kisses them.]—Gentlemen, to both
Good time o’ th’ day.
Som. The like to you.
War. ’Tis he.
A word, friend. [Aside to Som.] On my life, this is the man
Stands fair in crossing Susan’s love to me.
Som. [Aside to War.] I think no less; be wise, and take no notice on’t;
He that can win her best deserves her.
War. [Aside to Som.] Marry
A serving-man? mew!
Som. [Aside to War.] Prithee, friend, no more.
Car. Gentlemen all, there’s within a slight dinner ready, if you please to taste of it; Master Thorney, Master Francis, Master Somerton.—Why, girls! what huswives! will you spend all your forenoon in tittle-tattles? away! it’s well, i’faith.—Will you go in, gentlemen?
O. Thor. We’ll follow presently; my son and I
Have a few words of business.
Car. At your pleasure. [Exeunt all but O. Thor. and Frank.
O. Thor. I think you guess the reason, Frank, for which
I sent for you.
Frank. Yes, sir.
O. Thor. I need not tell you
With what a labyrinth of dangers daily
The best part of my whole estate’s encumbered;
Nor have I any clue to wind it out
But what occasion proffers me; wherein
If you should falter, I shall have the shame,
And you the loss. On these two points rely
Our happiness or ruin. If you marry
With wealthy Carter’s daughter, there’s a portion
Will free my land; all which I will instate,[418]
Upon the marriage, to you: otherwise
I must be of necessity enforced
To make a present sale of all; and yet,
For aught I know, live in as poor distress,
Or worse, than now I do. You hear the sum?
I told you thus before; have you considered on’t?
Frank. I have, sir; and however I could wish
To enjoy the benefit of single freedom,—
For that I find no disposition in me
To undergo the burthen of that care
That marriage brings with it,—yet, to secure
And settle the continuance of your credit,
I humbly yield to be directed by you
In all commands.
O. Thor. You have already used
Such thriving protestations to the maid
That she is wholly yours; and—speak the truth—
You love her, do you not?
Frank. ’Twere pity, sir,
I should deceive her.
O. Thor. Better you’d been unborn.
But is your love so steady that you mean,
Nay, more, desire, to make her your wife?
Frank. Else, sir,
It were a wrong not to be righted.
O. Thor. True,
It were: and you will marry her?
Frank. Heaven prosper it,
I do intend it.
O. Thor. O, thou art a villain!
A devil like a man! Wherein have I
Offended all the powers so much, to be
Father to such a graceless, godless son?
Frank. To me, sir, this! O, my cleft heart!
O. Thor. To thee,
Son of my curse. Speak truth and blush, thou monster!
Hast thou not married Winnifred, a maid
Was fellow-servant with thee?
Frank [Aside]. Some swift spirit
Has blown this news abroad; I must outface it.
O. Thor. D’ you study for excuse? why, all the country
Is full on’t.
Frank. With your licence, ’tis not charitable,
I’m sure it is not fatherly, so much
To be o’erswayed with credulous conceit
Of mere impossibilities; but fathers
Are privileged to think and talk at pleasure.
O. Thor. Why, canst thou yet deny thou hast no wife?
Frank. What do you take me for? an atheist?
One that nor hopes the blessedness of life
Hereafter, neither fears the vengeance due
To such as make the marriage-bed an inn,
Which travellers, day and night,
After a toilsome lodging, leave at pleasure?
Am I become so insensible of losing
The glory of creation’s work, my soul?
O, I have lived too long!
O. Thor. Thou hast, dissembler.
Dar’st thou perséver yet, and pull down wrath
As hot as flames of hell to strike thee quick
Into the grave of horror? I believe thee not;
Get from my sight!
Frank. Sir, though mine innocence
Needs not a stronger witness than the clearness
Of an unperished conscience, yet for that
I was informed how mainly you had been
Possessed of this untruth,—to quit all scruple,
Please you peruse this letter; ’tis to you.
O. Thor. From whom?
Frank. Sir Arthur Clarington, my master.
O. Thor. Well, sir. [Reads.
Frank [Aside]. On every side I am distracted;
Am waded deeper into mischief
Than virtue can avoid; but on I must:
Fate leads me; I will follow.—There you read
What may confirm you.
O. Thor. Yes, and wonder at it.
Forgive me, Frank; credulity abused me.
My tears express my joy; and I am sorry
I injured innocence.
Frank. Alas! I knew
Your rage and grief proceeded from your love
To me; so I conceived it.
O. Thor. My good son,
I’ll bear with many faults in thee hereafter;
Bear thou with mine.
Frank. The peace is soon concluded.
Re-enter Carter and Susan.
Car. Why, Master Thorney, d’ye mean to talk out your dinner? the company attends your coming. What must it be, Master Frank? or son Frank? I am plain Dunstable.[419]
O. Thor. Son, brother, if your daughter like to have it so.
Frank. I dare be confident she is not altered
From what I left her at our parting last:—
Are you, fair maid?
Sus. You took too sure possession
Of an engagèd heart.
Frank. Which now I challenge.
Car. Marry, and much good may it do thee, son.
Take her to thee; get me a brace of boys at a burthen,
Frank; the nursing shall not stand thee in a pennyworth
of milk; reach her home and spare not: when’s
the day?
O. Thor. To-morrow, if you please. To use ceremony
Of charge and custom were to little purpose;
Their loves are married fast enough already.
Car. A good motion. We’ll e’en have an household dinner, and let the fiddlers go scrape: let the bride and bridegroom dance at night together; no matter for the guests:—to-morrow, Sue, to-morrow.—Shall’s to dinner now?
O. Thor. We are on all sides pleased, I hope.
Sus. Pray Heaven I may deserve the blessing sent me:
Now my heart is settled.
Frank. So is mine.
Car. Your marriage-money shall be received before your wedding-shoes can be pulled on. Blessing on you both!
Frank [Aside]. No man can hide his shame from Heaven that views him;
In vain he flees whose destiny pursues him. [Exeunt.
