SCENE III.
Enter Anthony.
Anth. The day is broke. Mathea and young Ned,
By this time, are so surely link'd together,
That none in London can forbid the banns.
Laurentia, she is near provided for;
So that if Harvey's policy but hold,
Elsewhere the strangers may go seek them wives.
But here they come.
Enter Pisaro and Brown.
Pis. Six o'clock, say you? Trust me, forward days.
Hark you, Mouche, hie you to church,
Bid Master Bewford be in readiness.
Where go you? that way?
Anth. For my cloak, sir,
Pis. O, 'tis well. And, Master Brown,
Trust me, your early stirring makes me muse,
Is it to me your business?
Brown. Even to yourself.
I come, I think, to bring you welcome news.
Pis. And welcome news more welcome makes the bringer.
Speak, speak, good Master Brown, I long to hear them.
Brown. Then this it is. Young Harvey, late last night,
Full weak and sickly came unto his lodging.
From whence this sudden malady proceeds
'Tis all uncertain; the doctors and his friends
Affirm his health is unrecoverable.
Young Heigham and Ned Walgrave lately left him.
And I came hither to inform you of it.
Pis. Young Master Harvey sick? Now, afore God,
The news bites near the bone; for, should he die.
His living mortgaged would be redeem'd,
For not these three months doth the bond bear date!
Die now? Marry, God in heaven defend it!
O my sweet lands, lose thee I nay, lose my life!
And which is worst, I dare not ask mine own,
For I take two-and-twenty in the hundred,
When the law gives but ten. But should he live,
He careless would have left the debt unpaid,
Then had the lands been mine, Pisaro's own:
Mine, mine own land, mine own possession!
Brown. Nay, hear me out.
Pis. You're out too much already,
Unless you give him life, and me his land.
Brown. Whether 'tis love to you, or to your daughter,
I know not certain; but the gentleman
Hath made a deed of gift of all his lands
Unto your beauteous daughter, fair Marina.
Pis. Ha! say that word again, say it again!
A good thing cannot be too often spoken.
Marina, say you, are you sure 'twas she?
Or Mary, Margery, or some other maid?
Brown. To none but [to] your daughter, fair Marina.
And for the gift might be more forcible,
Your neighbour Master Moore advised us
(Who is a witness of young Harvey's will),
Sick as he is, to bring him to your house.
I know they are not far, but do attend,
That they may know what welcome they shall have.
Pis. What welcome, sir? as welcome as new life
Given to the poor condemned prisoner!
Return, good Master Brown, assure their welcome:
Say it, nay, swear it: for they're welcome truly;
For welcome are they to me which bring gold.
See down who knocks?[540] It may be there they are.
Frisco, call down my sons: bid the girls rise!
Where's Mouche? What, is he gone or no?
Enter Laurentia in Anthony's attire.
O, hear you, sirrah: bring along with you
Master Balsaro, the Spanish merchant.
Laur. Many Balsaros I. I'll to my love,
And thanks to Anthony for this escape. [Aside.
Pis. Stay, take us with you. Hark, they knock again.
Come, my soul's comfort, thou good-news-bringer!
I must needs hug thee, even for pure affection.
Enter Harvey, brought in a chair, Moore, Brown, Alvaro, Vandal, Delion, and Frisco.
Pis. Lift softly, good my friends, for hurting him.
Look cheerly, sir, you're welcome to my house.
Hark, Monsieur Vandal and my other sons,
Seem to be sad, as grieving for his sickness,
But inwardly rejoice. [Aside.] Monsieur Vandal,
Signor Alvaro, Monsieur Delion,
Bid my friend welcome, pray, bid him welcome.
Take a good heart; I doubt not, by God's leave,
You shall recover and do well enough.
If I should think so, I should hang myself. [Aside.
Frisco, go bid Marina come to me. [Exit Frisco.
You are a witness, sir, of this man's will:
What think you, Master Moore, what say you to't?
Moore. Master Pisaro, follow mine advice:
You see the gentleman cannot escape,
Then let him straight be wedded to your daughter:
So, during lifetime, she shall hold his land,
When now (being not kith nor kin to him)
For all the deed of gift that he hath seal'd,
His younger brother will enjoy the land.[541]
Pis. Marry my daughter! No, by'r Lady!
Hear you, Alvaro, my friend counsels me,
Seeing young Master Harvey is so sick,
To marry him incontinent to my daughter,
Or else the gift he hath bestow'd is vain.
Marry, and he recover? No, my son,
I will not lose thy love for all his land.
Alv. Hear you, padre, do no lose his lands, his hundred pond per anno, 'tis wort to avar; let him have de Maitress Marina in de marriage, 'tis but vor me to attendre one day more. If he will no die, I sal give him sush a drinck, sush a potion, sal mak him give de bonos noches to all de world.
[Aside.
Pis. Alvaro, here's my keys; take all I have,
My money, plate, wealth, jewels, daughter too.
Now, God be thanked, that I have a daughter
Worthy to be Alvaro's bed-fellow.
O, how I do admire and praise thy wit!
I'll straight about it. Hear you, Master Moore?
Enter Marina and Frisco.
Fris. Nay, faith, he's sick; therefore, though he be come, yet he can do you no good. There's no remedy, but even to put yourself into the hands of the Italian, that by that time that he hath pass'd his growth, young Harvey will be in case to come upon it with a sise of fresh force. [Exit.
Mar. Is my love come, and sick? Ay, now thou lov'st me,
How my heart joys! O God! get I my will,
I'll drive away that sickness with a kiss.
I need not feign, for I could weep for joy. [Aside.
Pis. It shall be so. Come hither, daughter.
Master Harvey, that you may see my love
Comes from a single heart unfeignedly,
See here my daughter: her I make thine own.
Nay, look not strange: before these gentlemen
I freely yield Marina for thy wife.
Har. Stay, stay, good sir! forbear this idle work!
My soul is labouring for a higher place
Than this vain, transitory world can yield:
What, would you wed your daughter to a grave?
For this is but death's model in man's shape[542].
You and Alvaro happy live together.
Happy were I to see you live together!
Pis. Come, sir, I trust you shall do well again.
Here, here, it must be so. God give you joy,
And bless you—[Aside.] not a day to live together.
Van. Hort ye, broder! will ye let den ander heb your wife? nempt her, nempt her, yourself?
Alv. No, no; tush, you be de fool, here be dat sal spoil marriage of him. You have deceive me of de fine wensh, Signor Harvey, but I sal deceive you of de mush land. [Aside.
Har. Are all things sure, father? is all despatched?
Pis. What interest we have, we yield it you.
Are you now satisfied, or rests there aught?
Har. Nay, father, nothing doth remain but thanks:
Thanks to yourself first that, disdaining me,
Yet lov'd my lands, and for them gave a wife.
But next unto Alvaro let me turn,
To courteous, gentle, loving, kind Alvaro!
That rather than to see me die for love—
For very love—would lose his beauteous love.
Van. Ha, ha, ha!
Del. Signor Alvaro, give him de ting quickly sal make him die, autrement you sal lose de fine wensh.
Alv. Oyme! che havesse al hora appressata la mano al mio coro, O suem curato ate, I che longo sei tu avinato, O cieli! O terra!
Pis. Am I awake, or do deluding dreams
Make that seem true which most my soul did fear?
Har. Nay, faith, father, it's very certain true,
I am as well as any man on earth.
Am I sick, sirs? Look here, is Harvey sick?
Pis. What shall I do? what shall I say?
Did not you counsel me to wed my child?
What potion? Where's your help, your remedy?
Har. I hope more happy stars will reign to-day,
And don Alvaro have more company.
Enter Anthony.
Anth. Now, Anthony, this cottons as it should,
And everything sorts to his wish'd effect.
Harvey joys Mall: my Dutchman and the French,
Thinking all sure, laugh at Alvaro's hap;
But quickly I shall mar that merry vein,
And make your fortunes equal with your friends.
Pis. Sirrah Mouche, what answer brought you back!
Will Master Balsaro come as I requested?
Anth. Master Balsaro? I knownotwho you mean.
Pis. Know you not, ass? did not I send thee for him?
Did I not bid thee bring him with the parson?
What answer made he? will he come or no?
Anth. Sent me for him? why, sir, you sent not me,
I neither went for him, nor for the parson.
I am glad to see your worship is so merry. [Knocking.
Pis. Hence, you forgetful dolt! Look down who knocks[543].
[Exit Anthony.
Enter Frisco.
Fris. O master, hang yourself! nay, never stay for a sessions. Master Vandal, confess yourself! desire the people to pray for you, for your bride she is gone: Laurentia is run away.
Van. O de diabolo, de mal-fortune! is Maitresse Laurentia gan awech.
Pis. First tell me that I am a lifeless corse!
Tell me of doomsday, tell me what you will,
Before you say Laurentia is gone!
Mar. Master Vandal, how do you feel yourself?
What, hang the head? fie, man! for shame, I say:
Look not so heavy on your marriage-day.
Har. O, blame him not: his grief is quickly spied,
That is a bridegroom, and yet wants his bride.
Enter Heigham, Laurentia, Balsaro, and Anthony.
Bal. Master Pisaro and gentlemen, good day to all.
According, sir, as you requested me,
This morn I made repair unto the Tower,
Whereas Laurentia now was married:
And, sir, I did expect your coming thither;
Yet in your absence we perform'd the rites.
Therefore, I pray, sir, bid God give them joy.
Heigh. He tells you true; Laurentia is my wife.
Who, knowing that her sisters must be wed,
Presuming also that you'll bid her welcome,
Are come to bear them company to church.
Har. You come too late: the marriage rites are done:
Yet welcome twenty-fold unto the feast.
How say you, sirs, did I not tell you true,
These wenches would have us, and none of you?
Laur. I cannot say for these; but on my life
This loves a cushion better than a wife.
Mar. And reason, too; that cushion fell out right,
Else hard had been his lodging all last night.
Bal. Master Pisaro, why stand you speechless thus?
Pis. Anger and extreme grief enforceth me.
Pray, sir, who bad you meet me at the Tower?
Bal. Who, sir? your man, sir—Mouche—here he is.
Anth. Who? I, sir? mean you me? you are a jesting man.
Pis. Thou art a villain, a dissembling wretch,
Worser than Anthony, whom I kept last!
Fetch me an officer! I'll hamper you,
And make you sing at Bridewell for this trick:
For well he hath deserv'd it, that would swear
He went not forth a-doors at my appointment.
Anth. So swear I still: I went not forth to-day.
Bal. Why, arrant liar, wert thou not with me?
Pis. How say you, Master Brown? went he not forth?
Brown. He, or his likeness did, I know not whether.
Pis. What likeness can there be besides himself?
Laur. Myself, forsooth, that took his shape upon me.
I was that Mouche that you sent from home;
And that same Mouche that deceived you,
Effected to possess this gentleman;
Which to attain, I thus beguil'd you all.
Fris. This is excellent; this is as fine as a fiddle! you, Master Heigham, got the wench in Mouche's apparel; now let Mouche put on her apparel, and be married to the Dutchman! How think you, is it not a good vice?
Moore. Master Pisaro, shake off melancholy:
When things are helpless, patience must be used.
Pis. Talk of patience? I'll not bear these wrongs?
Go call down Mat and Mistress Susan Moore,
'Tis well that of all three we have one sure.
Moore. Mistress Susan Moore! who do you mean, sir?
Pis. Whom should I mean, sir, but your daughter?
Moore. You're very pleasant, sir; but tell me this,
When did you see her, that you speak of her?
Pis. I? late yesternight, when she came here to bed.
Moore. You are deceived; my daughter lay not here,
But watch'd with her sick mother all last night.
Pis. I am glad you are so pleasant, Master Moore;
You're loth that Susan should be held a sluggard.
What, man, 'twas late before she went to bed,
And therefore time enough to rise again.
Moore. Master Pisaro, do you flout your friends?
I well perceive, if I had troubled you,
I should have had it in my dish ere now.
Susan lie here? I'm sure when I came forth,
I left her fast asleep in bed at home.
'Tis more than neighbourhood to use me thus.
Pis. Abed at your house? tell me I am mad.
Did not I let her in a-doors myself,
Spoke to her, talk'd with her, and canvass'd with her?
And yet she lay not here! What say you, sirrah?
Anth. She did, she did: I brought her to her chamber.
Moore. I say he lies, that saith so, in his throat.
Anth. Mass, now I remember me, I lie indeed.
Pis. O, how this frets me! Frisco, what say you?
Fris. What say I? Marry, I say, if she lay not here, there was a familiar in her likeness; for I am sure my master and she were so familiar together, that he had almost shot the gout out of his toes' ends to make the wench believe he had one trick of youth in him. Yet now I remember me, she did not lie here; and the reason is, because she doth lie here, and is now abed with Mistress Mathea: witness whereof I have set to my hand and seal, and mean presently to fetch her. [Exit Frisco.
Pis. Do so, Frisco. Gentlemen and friends,
Now shall you see how I am wrong'd by him.
Lay she not here? I think the world's grown wise:
Plain folks, as I, shall not know how to live.
Enter Frisco.
Fris. She comes, she comes! a hall, a hall!
Enter Mathea and Walgrave in woman's attire.
Wal. Nay, blush not, wench; fear not, look cheerfully.
Good morrow, father; good morrow, gentlemen.
Nay, stare not, look you here: no monster I,
But even plain Ned, and here stands Mat my wife.
Know you her, Frenchman? But she knows me better.
Father! pray, father, let me have your blessing,
For I have bless'd you with a goodly son.
'Tis breeding here: i' faith, a jolly boy.
Pis. I am undone! a reprobate, a slave!
A scorn, a laughter, and a jesting-stock!
Give me my child, give me my daughter from you!
Moore. Master Pisaro, 'tis in vain to fret,
And fume, and storm: it little now avails:
These gentlemen have, with your daughters' help,
Outstripp'd you in your subtle enterprises;
And therefore, seeing they are well-descended,
Turn hate to love, and let them have their loves.
Pis. Is it even so? Why, then I see that still,
Do what we can, women will have their will.
Gentlemen, you have outreach'd me now,
Which ne'er before you any yet could do:
You, that I thought should be my sons indeed,
Must be content, since there's no hope to speed:
Others have got what you did think to gain;
And yet, believe me, they have took some pain.
Well, take them: there: and with them God give joy.
And, gentlemen, I do entreat to-morrow,
That you will feast with me for all this sorrow:
Though you are wedded, yet the feast's not made.
Come, let us in, for all the storms are past,
And heaps of joy will follow on as fast.
FINIS.