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.