Watch. Will you out, sir?
I wonder how you durst creep in.
Order. This is rudeness,
And saucy impudence.
Amble. Cannot you stay
To be serv'd among your fellows from the basket,
But you must press into the hall?
Fur. Pr'ythee, vanish
Into some outhouse, though it be the pigsty;
My scullion shall come to thee.
Enter Allworth.
Wellb. This is rare:
Oh, here is Tom Allworth! Tom!
Allw. We must be strangers;
Nor would I have seen you here for a million.
[Exit.
Wellb. Better and better. He contemns me too.
Enter Woman and Chambermaid.
Woman. Oh! what a smell's here? What thing is this?
Cham. Oh! a filthy creature!
Let us hence, for love's sake, or I shall swoon!
Woman. I begin to faint, too. [Exeunt.
Watch. Will you know your way?
Amble. Or shall we teach it you,
By the head and shoulders?
Wellb. No; I will not stir:
Do you mark, I will not. Let me see the wretch
That dares attempt to force me. Why, you slaves
Created only to make legs, and cringe;
To carry in a dish, and shift a trencher;
That have not souls to hope a blessing
Beyond your master's leavings; you that were born
Only to consume meat and drink;
Who advances? Who shows me the way?
Order. Here comes my lady.
Enter Lady Allworth.
Lady A. What noise is this?
Wellb. Madam, my designs bear me to you.
Lady A. To me?
Wellb. And though I have met with
But ragged entertainment from your groom here,
I hope from you to receive that noble usage,
As may become the true friend of your husband;
And then I shall forget these.
Lady A. I am amaz'd,
To see and hear this rudeness. Dar'st thou think,
Though sworn, that it can ever find belief,
That I, who to the best men of this country
Denied my presence since my husband's death,
Can fall so low as to change words with thee?
Wellb. Scorn me not, good lady;
But, as in form you are angelical,
Imitate the heavenly natures, and vouchsafe
At least awhile to hear me. You will grant,
The blood that runs in this arm is as noble
As that which fills your veins; your swelling titles,
Equipage and fortune; your men's observance,
And women's flattery, are in you no virtues;
Nor these rags, with my poverty, in me vices.
You have a fair fame, and, I know, deserve it;
Yet, lady, I must say, in nothing more
Than in the pious sorrow you have shown
For your late noble husband.
Order. How she starts!
Wellb. That husband, madam, was once in his fortune,
Almost as low as I. Want, debts, and quarrels,
Lay heavy on him: let it not be thought
A boast in me, though I say, I reliev'd him.
'Twas I that gave him fashion; mine the sword
That did on all occasions second his;
I brought him on and off with honour, lady:
And when in all men's judgments he was sunk,
And in his own hopes not to be buoyed up;
I stepp'd unto him, took him by the hand,
And brought him to the shore.
Fur. Are not we base rogues
That could forget this?
Wellb. I confess you made him
Master of your estate; nor could your friends.
Though he brought no wealth with him, blame you for't:
For he had a shape, and to that shape a mind
Made up of all parts, either great or noble,
So winning a behaviour, not to be
Resisted, madam.
Lady A. 'Tis most true, he had.
Wellb. For his sake then, in that I was his friend,
Do not contemn me.
Lady A. For what's past excuse me;
I will redeem it.
Order, give this gentleman an hundred pounds.
Wellb. Madam, on no terms:
I will not beg nor borrow sixpence of you;
But be supplied elsewhere, or want thus ever.
Only one suit I make, which you deny not
To strangers; and 'tis this: pray give me leave.
[Whispers to her.
Order. [Aside.] What means this, I trow?
Fur. Mischief to us, if he has malice
To return our favour to him.
Order. Be still, and let us mark.
Lady A. Fie, nothing else?
Wellb. Nothing; unless you please to charge your servants
To throw away a little respect upon me.
Lady A. What you demand is yours.
If you have said all,
When you please you may retire.
Wellb. I thank you, lady.
[Exit Lady Allworth.
Now what can be wrought out of such a suit,
Is yet in supposition. [Servants bow,] Nay, all's forgotten, all
forgiven.
All. Good, dear, sweet, merry Mr. Wellborn!
Exit Servants.
Wellb. 'Faith, a right worthy and a liberal lady,
Who can, at once, so kindly meet my purposes,
And brave the flouts of censure, to redeem
Her husband's friend! When, by this honest plot,
The world believes she means to heal my wants
With her extensive wealth, each noisy creditor
Will be struck mute, and I be left at large
To practise on my uncle Overreach;
Whose foul, rapacious spirit, (on the hearing
Of my encouragement from this rich lady,)
Again will court me to his house and patronage.
Here I may work the measure to redeem
My mortgag'd fortune, which he stripped me of,
When youth and dissipation quell'd my reason.
The fancy pleases—if the plot succeed,
'Tis a new way to pay old debts indeed!
[Exit.
ACT II.
SCENE I.—Sir Giles's House.
Enter Sir Giles Overreach and Marall.
Sir G. He's gone, I warrant thee; this commission crush'd him.
Mar. Your worship has the way on't, and ne'er miss
To squeeze these unthrifts into air; and yet
The chap-fallen justice did his part, returning
For your advantage the certificate,
Against his conscience and his knowledge too;
(With your good favour) to the utter ruin
Of the poor farmer.
Sir G. 'Twas for these good ends
I made him a justice. He, that bribes his belly,
Is certain to command his soul.
Mar. I wonder.
Why, your worship having
The power to put this thin-gut in commission,
You are not in't yourself.
Sir G. Thou art a fool:
In being out of office, I am out of danger;
Where, if I were a justice, besides the trouble,
I might, or out of wilfulness, or error,
Run myself finely into a præmunire:
And so become a prey to the informer.
No, I'll have none of't: 'tis enough I keep
Greedy at my devotion: so he serve
My purposes, let him hang, or damn, I care not;
Friendship is but a word.
Mar. You are all wisdom.
Sir G. I would be worldly wise; for the other wisdom,
That does prescribe us a well-govern'd life,
And to do right to others, as ourselves,
I value not an atom.
Mar. What course take you,
(With your good patience) to hedge in the manor
Of your neighbour, Mr. Frugal? As 'tis said,
He will not sell, nor borrow, nor exchange;
And his land lying in the midst of your many lordships,
Is a foul blemish.
Sir. G. I have thought on't, Marall;
And it shall take. I must have all men sellers,
And I the only purchaser.
Mar. 'Tis most fit, sir.
Sir G. I'll, therefore, buy some cottage near his manor;
Which done, I'll make my men break ope' his fences,
Ride o'er his standing corn, and in the night
Set fire to his barns, or break his cattle's legs.
These trespasses draw on suits, and suits, expenses;
Which I can spare, but will soon beggar him.
When I have hurried him thus, two or three years,
Though he was sue forma pauperis, in spite
Of all his thrift and care, he'll grow behind hand.
Mar. The best I ever heard! I could adore you!
Sir G. Then, with the favour of my man of law,
I will pretend some title; want will force him
To put it to arbitrement; then, if he sell
For half the value, he shall have ready money,
And I possess the land.
Mar. Wellborn was apt to sell, and needed not
These fine arts, sir, to hook him in.
Sir G. Well thought on.
This varlet, Wellborn, lives too long, to upbraid me
With my close cheat put upon him. Will nor cold
Nor hunger kill him?
Mar. I know not what to think on't.
I have us'd all means; and the last night I caus'd
His host, the tapster, to turn him out of doors;
And have been since with all your friends and tenants,
And on the forfeit of your favour, charg'd them,
Tho' a crust of mouldy bread would keep him from starving,
Yet they should not relieve him.
Sir G. That was something, Marall, but thou must go farther;
And suddenly, Marall.
Mar. Where, and when you please, sir.
Sir G. I would have thee seek him out; and, if thou canst,
Persuade him, that 'tis better steal, than beg;
Then, if I prove he has but robb'd a henroost,
Not all the world shall save him from the gallows.
Do anything to work him to despair,
And 'tis thy masterpiece.
Mar. I will do my best, sir.
Sir G. I am now on my main work, with the Lord Lovell;
The gallant-minded, popular Lord Lovell,
The minion of the people's love. I hear
He's come into the country; and my aims are
To insinuate myself into his knowledge,
And then invite him to my house.
Mar. I have you.
This points at my young mistress.
Sir G. She must part with
That humble title, and write honourable;
Right honourable, Marall; my right honourable daughter;
If all I have, or e'er shall get, will do it.
I will have her well attended; there are ladies
Of errant knights decay'd, and brought so low,
That, for cast clothes, and meat, will gladly serve her.
And 'tis my glory, though I come from the city,
To have their issue, whom I have undone,
To kneel to mine, as bond slaves.
Mar. 'Tis fit state, sir.
Sir G. And, therefore, I'll not have a chambermaid
That ties her shoes, or any meaner office,
But such, whose fathers were right worshipful.
'Tis a rich man's pride! there having ever been
More than a feud, a strange antipathy,
Between us, and true gentry.
Enter Wellborn.
Mar. See! who's here, sir?
Sir G. Hence, monster! prodigy!
Wellb. Call me what you will, I am your nephew, sir.
Sir G. Avoid my sight! thy breath's infectious, rogue!
I shun thee as a leprosy, or the plague.
Come hither, Marall, this is the time to work him.
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.