Part 2 out of 10
this needless charge? What acknowledgment do you expect? You know I
will not marry you.
_Lov_. How the devil do I know that? I do not conceive myself,
under correction, so inconsiderable a person.
_Const_. You'll alter your partial opinion, when I tell you, 'tis
not a flash of wit fires me, nor is it a gay out-side can seduce me to
_Lov_. I am neither fool, nor deformed, so much as to be
despicable. What do I want?
_Const_. A good estate, that makes every thing handsome: Nothing
can look well without it.
_Lov_. Does this jewel express poverty?
_Const_. I conjure you by your love to me, tell me one truth not
minced by your invention, how came you by this jewel?
_Lov_. 'Tis well I have a voucher. Pray ask your own jeweller,
Setstone, if I did not buy it of him.
_Const_. How glad you are now, you can tell a truth so near a
lie. But where had you the money, that purchased it? Come--without
circumstances and preambles--
_Lov_. Umph--Perhaps, that may be a secret.
_Const_. Say, it be one; yet he, that loved indeed, could not
keep it from his mistress.
_Lov_. Why should you be thus importunate?
_Const_. Because I cannot think you love me, if you will not
trust that to my knowledge, which you conceal from all the world
_Lov_. You urge me deeply--
_Const_. Come, sweet servant, you shall tell me; I am resolved to
take no denial. Why do you sigh?
_Lov_. If I be blasted, it must out.
_Const_. Either tell me, or resolve to take your leave for ever.
_Lov_. Then know, I have my means,--I know not how.
_Const_. This is a fine secret.
_Lov_. Why, then, if you will needs know, 'tis from the devil; I
have money from him, what, and when I please.
_Const_. Have you sealed a covenant, and given away your soul for
_Lov_. No such thing intended on my part.
_Const_. How then?
_Lov_. I know not yet what conditions he'll propose. I should
have spoke with him last night, but that a cross chance hindered it.
_Const_. Well, my opinion is, some great lady, that is in love
with you, supplies you still; and you tell me an incredible tale of
the devil, merely to shadow your infidelity.
_Lov_. Devise some means to try me.
_Const_. I take you at your word. You shall swear freely to
bestow on me whatever you shall gain this unknown way; and, for a
proof, because you tell me you can have money, what, and when you
please, bring me a hundred pounds ere night.--If I do marry him for
a wit, I'll see what he can do; he shall have none from me.
_Lov_. You overjoy me, madam; you shall have it, an 'twere twice
_Const_. How's this?
_Lov_. The devil a cross that I have, or know where to get; but
I must promise well, to save my credit.--Now, devil, if thou dost
_Const_. I mistrust you; and, therefore, if you fail, I'll
have your hand to show against you; here's ink and paper. [LOVEBY
_Enter_ BURR, _and_ TIMOROUS.
_Burr_. What makes Loveby yonder? He's writing somewhat.
_Tim_. I'll go see. [_Looks over him_.
_Lov_. Have you no more manners than to overlook a man when he's
a writing?--Oh! is't you, Sir Timorous? You may stand still; now I
think on't, you cannot read written hand.
_Burr_. You are very familiar with Sir Timorous.
_Lov_. So am I with his companions, sir.
_Burr_. Then there's hopes you and I may be better acquainted. I
am one of his companions.
_Lov_. By what title? as you are an ass, sir?
_Const_. No more, Loveby.
_Lov_. I need not, madam. Alas! this fellow is only the solicitor
of a quarrel, 'till he has brought it to an head; and will leave the
fighting part to the courteous pledger. Do not I know these fellows?
You shall as soon persuade a mastiff to fasten on a lion, as one of
those to engage with a courage above their own: They know well enough
whom they can beat, and who can beat them.
_Enter _FAILER _at a distance_.
_Fail_. Yonder they are: Now, would I compound for a reasonable
sum, that I were friends with Burr. If I am not, I shall lose Sir
_Const_. O, servant, have I spied you? let me run into your arms.
_Fail_. I renounce my lady Constance: I vow to gad, I renounce
_Tim_. To your task, Burr.
_Enter NONSUCH and ISABELLA_.
_Const_. Hold, gentlemen! no sign of quarrel.
_Non_. O, friends! I think I shall go mad with grief: I have lost
_Lov_. Would I had it: that's all the harm I wish myself. Your
servant, madam; I go about the business.
_Non_. What! does he take no pity on me?
_Const_. Pr'ythee, moan him, Isabella.
_Isa_. Alas, alas, poor uncle! could they find in their hearts to
_Non_. Five hundred pounds, out of poor six thousand pounds
a-year! I, and mine, are undone for ever.
_Fail_. Your own house, you think, is clear, my lord?
_Const_. I dare answer for all there, as much as for myself.
_Burr_. Oh, that he would but think that Loveby had it!
_Fail_. If you'll be friends with me, I'll try what I can
persuade him to.
_Burr_. Here's my hand, I will, dear heart.
_Fail_. Your own house being clear, my lord, I am apt to suspect
this Loveby for such a person. Did you mark how abruptly he went out?
_Non_. He did indeed, Mr Failer. But why should I suspect him?
his carriage is fair, and his means great; he could never live after
this rate, if it were not.
_Fail_. This still renders him the more suspicious: He has no
land, to my knowledge.
_Burr_. Well said, mischief. [_Aside_.
_Const_. My father's credulous, and this rogue has found the
blind side of him; would Loveby heard him! [_To_ ISABELLA.
_Fail_. He has no means, and he loses at play; so that, for my
part, I protest to gad, I am resolved he picks locks for his living.
_Burr_. Nay, to my knowledge, he picks locks.
_Tim_. And to mine.
_Fail_. No longer ago than last night he met me in the dark, and
offered to dive into my pockets.
_Non_. That's a main argument for suspicion.
_Fail_. I remember once, when the keys of the Exchequer were lost
in the Rump-time, he was sent for upon an extremity, and, egad, he
opens me all the locks with the blade-bone of a breast of mutton.
_Non_. Who, this Loveby?
_Fail_. This very Loveby. Another time, when we had sate up very
late at ombre in the country, and were hungry towards morning, he
plucks me out (I vow to gad I tell you no lie) four ten-penny nails
from the dairy lock with his teeth, fetches me out a mess of milk, and
knocks me 'em in again with his head, upon reputation.
_Isa_. Thou boy!
_Non_. What shall I do in this case? My comfort is, my gold's all
_Const_. Will you suspect a gentleman of Loveby's worth, upon the
bare report of such a rascal as this Failer?
_Non_. Hold thy tongue, I charge thee; upon my blessing hold thy
tongue. I'll have him apprehended before he sleeps; come along with
me, Mr Failer.
_Fail_. Burr, look well to Sir Timorous; I'll be with you
_Const_. I'll watch you by your favour. [_Aside.
[Exeunt_ NONSUCH _and_ FAILER, CONSTANCE _following them_.
_Isa_. A word, Sir Timorous.
_Burr_. [Gets _behind_.] She shall have a course at the
knight, and come up to him, but when she is just ready to pinch, he
shall give such a loose from her, shall break her heart.
_Isa_. Burr there still, and watching us? There's certainly some
plot in this, but I'll turn it to my own advantage. [_Aside_.
_Tim. Did you mark Burr's retirement, madam?
_Isa_ Ay; his guilt, it seems, makes him shun your company.
_Tim_. In what can he be guilty?
_Isa_. You must needs know it; he courts your mistress.
_Tim_. Is he, too, in love with my lady Constance?
_Isa_. No, no: but, which is worse, he courts me.
_Tim_. Why, what have I to do with you? You know I care not this
_Isa_. Perhaps so; but he thought you did: and good reason for
_Tim_. What reason, madam?
_Isa_. The most convincing in the world: He knew my cousin
Constance never loved you: He has heard her say, you were as
invincibly ignorant as a town-fop judging a new play: as shame-faced
as a great overgrown school-boy: in fine, good for nothing but to be
wormed out of your estate, and sacrificed to the god of laughter.
_Tim_. Was your cousin so barbarous to say this?
_Isa_. In his hearing.
_Tim_. And would he let me proceed in my suit to her?
_Isa_. For that I must excuse him; he never thought you could
love one of my cousin's humour; but took your court to her, only as
a blind to your affection for me; and, being possessed with that
opinion, he thought himself as worthy as you to marry me.
_Tim_. He is not half so worthy; and so I'll tell him, in a fair
_Burr_. [_To a Boy entering_.] Sirrah, boy, deliver this
note to madam Isabella; but be not known I am so near.
_Boy_. I warrant you, sir.
_Burr_. Now, Fortune, all I desire of thee is, that Sir Timorous
may see it; if he once be brought to believe there is a kindness
between her and me, it will ruin all her projects.
_Isa_. [_To the Boy_.] From whom?
_Boy_. From Mr Burr, madam.
_Isa_. [Reads.] _These for Madam Isabella. Dear rogue, Sir
Timorous knows nothing of our kindness, nor shall for me; seem still
to have designs upon him; it will hide thy affection the better to thy
_Isa_. Alas, poor woodcock, dost thou go a-birding? Thou hast
e'en set a springe to catch thy own neck. Look you here, Sir Timorous;
here's something to confirm what I have told you. [_Gives him the
_Tim_. D, e, a, r, _dear_; r, o, g, u, e, _rogue_.
Pray, madam, read it; this written hand is such a damned pedantic
thing, I could never away with it.
_Isa_. He would fain have robbed you of me: Lord, Lord! to see
the malice of a man.
_Tim_. She has persuaded me so damnably, that I begin to think
she's my mistress indeed.
_Isa_. Your mistress? why, I hope you are not to doubt that, at
this time of day. I was your mistress from the first day you ever saw
_Tim_. Nay, like enough you were so; but I vow to gad now, I was
wholly ignorant of my own affection.
_Isa_. And this rogue pretends he has an interest in me, merely
to defeat you: Look you, look you, where he stands in ambush, like a
Jesuit behind a Quaker, to see how his design will take.
_Tim_. I see the rogue: Now could I find in my heart to marry you
in spite to him; what think you on't, in a fair way?
_Isa_. I have brought him about as I could wish; and now I'll
make my own conditions. [_Aside_.] Sir Timorous, I wish you well;
but he I marry must promise me to live at London: I cannot abide to be
in the country, like a wild beast in the wilderness, with no Christian
soul about me.
_Tim_. Why, I'll bear you company.
_Isa_. I cannot endure your early hunting-matches there; to have
my sleep disturbed by break of day, with heigh, Jowler, Jowler! there
Venus, ah Beauty! and then a serenade of deep-mouthed curs, to answer
the salutation of the huntsman, as if hell were broke loose about me:
and all this to meet a pack of gentlemen savages, to ride all day,
like mad-men, for the immortal fame of being first in at the hare's
death: to come upon the spur, after a trial at four in the afternoon,
to destruction of cold meat and cheese, with your lewd company in
boots; fall a-drinking till supper time, be carried to bed, tossed out
of your cellar, and be good for nothing all the night after.
_Tim_. Well, madam, what is it you would be at? you shall find me
reasonable to all your propositions.
_Isa_. I have but one condition more to add; for I will be as
reasonable as you; and that is a very poor request--to have all the
money in my disposing.
_Tim_. How, all the money?
_Isa_. Ay, for I am sure I can huswife it better for your honour;
not but that I shall be willing to encourage you with pocket-money, or
_Tim_. This is somewhat hard.
_Isa_. Nay, if a woman cannot do that, I shall think you have
an ill opinion of my virtue: Not trust your own flesh and blood, Sir
_Tim_. Well, is there any thing more behind?
_Isa_. Nothing more, only the choice of my own company, my own
hours, and my own actions: These trifles granted me, in all things of
moment, I am your most obedient wife and servant, Isabella.
_Tim_. Is't a match, then?
_Isa_. For once I am content it shall; but 'tis to redeem you
from those rascals, Burr and Failer--that way, Sir Timorous, for fear
of spies; I'll meet you at the garden door.--[_Exit_ TIMOROUS.] I
have led all women the way, if they dare but follow me.
_And now march off, if I can scape but spying,
With my drums beating, and my colours flying_.
_Burr_. So, their wooing's at an end; thanks to my wit.
_Fail_. O Burr! whither is it Sir Timorous and Madam Isabella are
_Burr_. Adore my wit, boy; they are parted, never to meet again.
_Fail_. I saw them meet just now at the garden-door: So ho, ho,
ho, who's within there! Help here quickly, quickly.
_Enter_ NONSUCH _and two Servants_.
_Non_. What's the matter?
_Fail_. Your niece Isabella has stolen away Sir Timorous.
_Non_. Which way took they?
_Fail_. Follow me, I'll show you.
_Non_. Break your necks after him, you idle varlets.
_Enter_ LOVEBY. LOVEBY'S _collar unbuttoned, band carelessly
on, hat on the table, as new risen from sleep_.
_Lov_. Boy! how long have I slept, boy?
_Boy_. Two hours and a half, sir.
_Lov_. What's a-clock, sirrah?
_Boy_. Near four, sir.
_Lov_. Why, there's it: I have promised my lady Constance an
hundred pounds ere night; I had four hours to perform it in, when I
engaged to do it; and I have slept out more than two of them. All
my hope to get this money lies within the compass of that hat there.
Before I lay down, I made bold a little to prick my finger, and write
a note, in the blood of it, to this same friend of mine in t'other
world, that uses to supply me: the devil has now had above two hours
to perform it in; all which time I have slept, to give him the better
opportunity: time enough for a gentleman of his agility to fetch it
from the East Indies, out of one of his temples where they worship
him; or, if he were lazy, and not minded to go so far, 'twere but
stepping over sea, and borrowing so much money out of his own bank at
Amsterdam: hang it, what's an hundred pounds between him and me?
Now does my heart go pit-a-pat, for fear I should not find the money
there: I would fain lift it up to see, and yet I am so afraid of
missing: Yet a plague, why should I fear he'll fail me; the name of a
friend's a sacred thing; sure he'll consider that. Methinks, this hat
looks as if it should have something under it: If one could see the
yellow boys peeping underneath the brims now: Ha! [_Looks under
round about_.] In my conscience I think I do. Stand out o'the way,
sirrah, and be ready to gather up the pieces, that will flush out of
the hat as I take it up.
_Boy_. What, is my master mad, trow?
[LOVEBY _snatches up the hat, looks in it hastily, and sees nothing
but the paper_.
_Low_. Now, the devil take the devil! A plague! was ever man
served so as I am! [_Throws his hat upon the ground_.] To break
the bands of amity for one hundred pieces! Well, it shall be more out
of thy way than thou imaginest, devil: I'll turn parson, and be at
open defiance with thee: I'll lay the wickedness of all people upon
thee, though thou art never so innocent; I'll convert thy bawds and
whores; I'll Hector thy gamesters, that they shall not dare to swear,
curse, or bubble; nay, I'll set thee out so, that thy very usurers and
aldermen shall fear to have to do with thee.
[_A noise within of_ ISABELLA _and_ FRANCES.
_Enter_ FRANCES, _thrusting back_ ISABELLA _and_
_Franc_. How now, what's the matter?
_Isa_. Nay, sweet mistress, be not so hard-hearted; all I desire
of you is but harbour for a minute: you cannot, in humanity, deny that
small succour to a gentlewoman.
_Franc_. A gentlewoman! I thought so; my house, affords no
harbour for gentlewomen: you are a company of proud harlotries: I'll
teach you to take place of tradesmen's wives, with a wannion to you.
_Lov_. How's this! Madam Isabella!
_Isa_. Mr Loveby! how happy am I to meet with you in my distress!
_Lov_. What's the matter, madam?
_Isa_. I'll tell you, if this gentlewoman will give me leave.
_Franc_. No, gentlewoman, I will not give you leave; they are
such as we maintain your pride, as they say. [ISABELLA _and_
LOVEBY _whisper_.] Our husbands trust you, and you must go before
their wives. I am sure my good-man never goes to any of your lodgings,
but he comes home the worse for it, as they say.
_Lov_. Is that all? pr'ythee, good landlady, for my sake
entertain my friends.
_Franc_. If the gentleman's worship had come alone, it may be I
might have entertained him; but for your minion!
_Enter_ NONSUCH, FAILER, BURR, _and Officers. Cry within, Here,
_Fail_. My lord, arrest Sir Timorous upon a promise of marriage
to your daughter, and we'll witness it.
_Tim_. Why, what a strange thing of you's this, madam Isabella,
to bring a man into trouble thus!
_Fail_. You are not yet married to her?
_Tim_. Not that I remember.
_Isa_. Well, Failer, I shall find a time to reward your
_Lov_. If the knight would have owned his action, I should have
taught some of you more manners, than to come with officers into my
_Franc_. I'm glad with all my heart this minx is prevented of her
design: the gentleman had got a great catch of her, as they say. His
old father in the country would have given him but little thanks
for it, to see him bring down a fine-bred woman, with a lute, and a
dressing-box, and a handful of money to her portion.
_Isa_. Good Mistress Whatdeelack! I know your quarrel to the
ladies; do they take up the gallants from the tradesmen's wives? Lord,
what a grievous thing it is, for a she citizen to be forced to have
children by her own husband!
_Franc_. Come, come, you're a slanderful huswife, and I squorn
your harlotry tricks, that I do, so I do.
_Isa_. Steeple-hat your husband never gets a good look when he
comes home, except he brings a gentleman to dinner; who, if he casts
an amorous eye towards you, then, "Trust him, good husband, sweet
husband, trust him for my sake: Verily the gentleman's an honest man,
I read it in his countenance: and if you should not be at home to
receive the money, I know he will pay the debt to me." Is't not so,
_Enter_ BIBBER _in slippers, with a skein of silk about his
_Franc_. Will you see me wronged thus, under my own roof, as they
_Isa_. Nay, 'tis very true, mistress: you let the men, with old
compliments, take up new clothes; I do not mean your wife's clothes,
_Bib_. Good, i'faith! a notable smart gentlewoman!
_Isa_. Look to your wife, sir, or, in time, she may undo your
trade; for she'll get all your men-customers to herself.
_Bib_. An' I should be hanged, I can forbear no longer. [_He
plucks out his measure, and runs to_ ISABELLA, _to take measure
_Isa_. How now! what means Prince Pericles by this?
_Bib_. [_On his knees_.] I must beg your ladyship e'en to
have the honour to trust you but for your gown, for the sake of that
last jest, flowered sattin, wrought tabby, silver upon any grounds; I
shall run mad if I may not trust your ladyship.
_Franc_. I think you are mad already, as they say, William: You
shall not trust her--
[_Plucks him back_.
_Bib_. Let me alone, Frances: I am a lion when I am angered.
_Isa_. Pray do not pull your lion by the tail so, mistress--In
these clothes, that he now takes measure of me for, will I marry Sir
Timorous; mark that, and tremble, Failer.
_Fail_. Never threaten me, madam; you're a person I despise.
_Isa_. I vow to gad, I'll be even with you, sir.
_Non_. [_To the Bailiff's_.]--And when you have arrested
him, be sure you search him for my gold.
_Bailiffs_. [_To_ LOVEBY.] We arrest you, sir, at my Lord
_Lov_. Me, you rascals!
_Non_. Search him for my gold; you know the marks on't.
_Lov_. If they can find any marked or unmarked gold about me,
they'll find more than I can. You expect I should resist now; no, no;
I'll hamper you for this.
_Bail_. There's nothing to be found about him.
_Fail_. 'Tis no matter, to prison with him; there all his debts
will come upon him.
_Lov_. What, hurried to durance, like a stinkard!
_Job_. Now, as I live, a pleasant gentleman; I could find in my
heart to bail him; but I'll overcome myself, and steal away. [_Is
_Bail_. Come, sir, we must provide you of another lodging; but I
believe you'll scarce like it.
_Lov_. If I do not, I ask no favour; pray turn me out of doors.
_Bib_. Turn him out of doors! What a jest was there? Now, an' I
should be hanged, I cannot forbear bailing him: Stay, officers, I bail
him body and soul for that jest.
_Fail_. Let us begone in time, Burr.
[_Exeunt_ BURR, FAILER, _and_ TIMOROUS.
_Franc_. You shall not bail him.
_Bib_. I know I am a rogue to do it; but his wit has prevailed
upon me, and a man must not go against his conscience. There,
_Lov_. to _Non_. Old man, if it were not for thy daughter--
_Non_. Well, well; take your course, sir.
[_Exeunt_ NONSUCH _and Bailiffs_.
_Lov_. Come, Will, I'll thank thee at the tavern. Frances,
remember this the next time you come up to make my bed.
_Franc_. Do your worst, I fear you not, sir. This is twice to
day, William; to trust a gentlewoman, and bail a ragamuffin: I am sure
he called you cuckold but yesterday, and said he would make you one.
_Lov_. Look you, Frances, I am a man of honour, and, if I said
it, I'll not break my word with you.
_Bib_. There he was with you again, Frances: An excellent good
jest, i'faith la.
_Franc_. I'll not endure it, that I won't, so I won't: I'll go to
the justice's worship, and fetch a warrant for him.
_Lov_. But, landlady, the word cuckold will bear no action in the
law, except you could prove your husband prejudiced by it. Have any
of his customers forsook him for't? Or any mercer refused to trust him
the less, for my calling him so?
_Franc_. Nay, I know not for the mercers; perhaps the citizens
may take it for no slander among one another, as they say: but for the
_Lov_. Will, have they forsaken thee upon it?
_Bib_. No, I assure you, sir.
_Lov_. No, I warrant 'em: A cuckold has the signification of an
honest well-meaning citizen; one, that is not given to jealousies or
suspicions; a just person to his wife, &c.; one that, to speak the
worst of him, does but to her, what he would be content should be done
to her by other men.
_Franc_. But that another man should be the father of his
children, as they say; I don't think that a civil thing, husband.
_Lov_. Not civil, landlady! why all things are civil, that are
made so by custom.
_Bib_. Why may not he get as fine children as I, or any man?
_Franc_. But if those children, that are none of yours, should
call you father, William!
_Bib_. If they call me father, and are none of mine, I am the
more beholden to 'em.
_Franc_. Nay, if that be your humour, husband, I am glad I
know it, that I may please you the better another time, as they say.
_Bib_. Nay, but Frances, Frances! 'tis such another woman.
_Lov_. 'Tis such another man:--My coat and sword, boy, I must go
to Justice Trice's; bring the women; and come after me. [_Exit_
ACT IV. SCENE I.
_A Table set with Cards upon it_.
TRICE _walking: Enter Servant_.
_Serv_. Sir, some company is without upon justice-business.
_Trice_. Saucy rascal, to disturb my meditations. [_Exit
Servant_.--Ay, it shall be he: Jack Loveby, what think'st thou of
a game at piquet, we two, hand to fist? you and I will play one single
game for ten pieces: 'Tis deep stake, Jack, but 'tis all one between
us two: You shall deal, Jack:--Who I, Mr Justice! that's a good
one; you must give me use for your hand then; that's six i'the
hundred.--Come, lift, lift;--mine's a ten; Mr Justice:--mine's a king;
oh ho, Jack, you deal. I have the advantage of this, i'faith, if I can
keep it. [_He deals twelve a piece, two by two, and looks on his
own cards_.] I take seven, and look on this--Now for you, Jack
_Enter_ LOVEBY _behind_.
_Lov_. How's this? Am I the man he fights with?
_Trice_. I'll do you right, Jack; as I am an honest man, you
must discard this; there's no other way: If you were my own brother, I
could do no better for you.--Zounds, the rogue has a quint-major, and
three aces younger hand.--[_Looks on the other cards_.] Stay;
what am I for the point? But bare forty, and he fifty-one: Fifteen,
and five for the point, twenty, and three by aces, twenty-three;
well, I am to play first: one, twenty-three; two, twenty-three; three,
twenty-three; four, twenty-three;--Pox on't, now I must play into his
hand: five:--now you take it, Jack;--five, twenty-four, twenty-five,
twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, and the
_Lov_. Hitherto it goes well on my side.--
_Trice_. Now I deal: How many do you take, Jack? All. Then I am
gone: What a rise is here! Fourteen by aces, and a sixieme-major; I
am gone, without looking into my cards.--[_Takes up an ace and
bites it_.] Ay, I thought so: If ever man play'd with such cursed
fortune, I'll be hanged, and all for want of this damned ace--there's
your ten pieces, with a pox to you, for a rooking beggarly rascal as
_Lov_. What occasion have I given you for these words, sir? Rook
and rascal! I am no more rascal than yourself, sir.
_Trice_. How's this! how's this!
_Lov_. And though for this time I put up, because I am a winner--
[_Snatches the gold_.
_Trice_. What a devil do'st thou put up? Not my gold, I hope,
_Lov_. By your favour, but I do; and 'twas won fairly: a sixieme,
and fourteen by aces, by your own confession,--What a pox, we don't
make childrens' play, I hope?
_Trice_. Well, remember this, Jack; from this hour I forswear
playing with you when I am alone; what, will you bate me nothing on't?
_Lov_. Not a farthing, Justice; I'll be judged by you; if I had
lost, you would have taken every piece on't: What I win, I win--and
there's an end.
_Serv_. Sir, these people stay without, and will not be answered.
_Trice_. Well, what's their business?
_Serv_. Nay, no great matter; only a fellow for getting a wench
_Trice_. No great matter, say'st thou? 'Faith, but it is. Is he a
poor fellow, or a gentleman?
_Serv_. A very poor fellow, sir.
_Trice_. Hang him, rogue; make his mittimus immediately; must
such as he presume to get children?
_Lov_. Well considered: A poor lousy rascal, to intrench upon
the game of gentlemen! He might have passed his time at nine-pins, or
shovel-board; that had been fit sport for such as he: Justice, have no
mercy on him.
_Trice_. No, by the sword of justice will I not.
_Lov_. Swear'st thou, ungracious boy[A]? That's too much, on the
other hand, for a gentleman. I swear not, I drink not, I curse not,
I cheat not; they are unnecessary vices: I save so much out of those
sins, and take it out in that one necessary vice of wenching.
[Footnote A: Henry IV. Part 1. Act ii. Scene 4.]
_Enter_ LOVEBY'S _Boy_.
_Boy_. Sir, the parties are without, according to your order.
_Lov_. 'Tis well; bring 'em in, boy.
_Enter Lady Du_ LAKE, _and two or three Whores_.
Justice, I recommend this ancient gentlewoman, with these virtuous
ladies, to thy patronage; for her part, she is a person of exemplary
life and behaviour; of singular conduct to break through, and patience
to bear the assaults of fortune: A general benefactress of mankind,
and, in fine, a promoter of that great work of nature, love.
_Trice_. Or, as the vulgar translation hath it, a very sufficient
and singular good bawd: Is't not so, boy?
_Lov_. Ay, boy: Now for such a pettifogging fellow as thy clerk
to persecute this lady; pr'ythee think on't: Tis a grievance of the
_L. Du Lake_. To see the ingratitude of this generation! That I,
that have spent my youth; set at nought my fortune; and, what is more
dear to me, my honour, in the service of gentlemen; should now, in my
old age, be left to want and beggary, as if I were the vilest and most
unworthy creature upon God's earth! [_Crying_.
_Lov_. Nay, good mother, do not take it so bitterly.
_L. Du Lake_. I confess, the unkindness of it troubles me.
_Lov_. Thou shalt not want, so long as I live.--Look, here's five
pieces of cordial gold, to comfort thy heart with: I won it, e'en now,
off Mr Justice; and I dare say he thinks it well bestowed.
_Trice_. My money's gone to very pious uses.
_L. Du Lake_. [_Laying her hand on_ LOVEBY'S _head_.]
Son Loveby, I knew thy father well; and thy grandfather before him.
Fathers they were both to me; and I could weep for joy to see how thou
tak'st after them. [_Weeping again_.] I wish it lay in my power
too to gratify this worthy Justice in my vocation.
_Trice_. 'Faith, I doubt I am past that noble sin.
_Lov_. Pr'ythee, good magistrate, drink to her, and wipe sorrow
from her eyes.
_Trice_. Right reverend, my service to you in canary. [_She
drinks after him, and stays at half a glass_.
_L. Du Lake_. 'Tis a great way to the bottom; but heaven is
all-sufficient to give me strength for it. [_Drinks it up_.] Why,
God's blessing on your heart, son Trice! I hope 'tis no offence to
call you son? hem!--hem!--Son Loveby, I think my son Trice and I are
much of the same years: let me see, son, if nature be utterly extinct
in you: Are you ticklish, son Trice? [_Tickles him_.
_Trice_. Are you ticklish, Mother Du Lake?
[_Tickles her sides. She falls off her chair; he falls off his to
her; they roll one over the other_.
_Lov_. I would have all London now show me such another sight of
kindness in old age. [_They help each other up_.] Come, a dance,
a dance; call for your clerk, Justice; he shall make one, in sign of
amity. Strike up, fidlers!
[_They dance a round dance, and sing the tune_.
_Enter_ ISABELLA _and_ CONSTANCE.
_Isa_. Are you at that sport, i'faith? Have among you, blind
harpers. [_She falls into the dance_.
[_At the dance's ending_, LOVEBY _sees_ CONSTANCE.
_Trice_. Is she come? A pox of all honest women at such a time!
_Lov_. If she knows who these are, by this light, I am undone.
_Const_. Oh, servant! I come to mind you of your promise. Come,
produce my hundred pounds; the time's out I set you.
_Lov_. Not till dark night, upon my reputation! I have not yet
spoke with the gentleman in the black pantaloons; you know he seldom
walks abroad by day-light. Dear madam, let me wait on you to your
coach; and, if I bring it not within this hour, discard me utterly.
_Const_. You must give me leave to salute the company. What are
_Lov_. Persons of quality of my acquaintance; but I'll make your
excuse to 'em.
_Const_. Nay, if they are persons of quality, I shall be rude to
part from 'em so abruptly.
_Lov_. Why so?--the devil owed me a shame; and now he has paid
me. I must present 'em, whate'er come on't. [_Aside_.]--This,
madam, is my Lady Du Lake--the Lady Springwell--the Lady Hoyden.
[_She and_ ISABELLA _salute them_.
_Isa_. What a whiff was there came from my Lady Hoyden; and what
a garlic breath my Lady Springwell had!
_Trice_. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
_Lov_. Do not betray me, Justice; if you do--[_Aside_.
_Isa_. Oh, are you thereabouts, sir? then I smell a rat, i'faith;
but I'll say nothing. [_Aside_.
_Const_. Ladies, I am an humble servant to you all; and account
it my happiness to have met with so good company at my cousin Trice's.
_Trice_. Ha, ha, ha!
_L. Du Lake_. Are these two ladies of your acquaintance, son
_Lov_. Son, quoth a'! a pox of our relation! [_Aside_.
_L. Du Lake_. I shall be glad to be better known to your
_Const_. You too much honour your servants, madam.
_Isa_. How Loveby fidges up and down! In what pain he is! well,
if these be not they, they call whores, I'll be hanged, though I never
saw one before. [_Aside_.
_Lov_. Will your ladyship please to go, madam?
_Const_. I must beg the favour of these ladies first, that I may
know their lodgings, and wait on them.
_L. Du. Lake_. It will be our duty to pay our respects first to
_Const_. I beg your ladyship's pardon, madam--
_L. Du Lake_. Your ladyship shall excuse us, madam--
_Isa_. Trice. Ha, ha, ha!
_Low_. Ah, devil grin you! [_Aside_.
_Trice_. I must go out, and laugh my belly-full.
_Const_. But in earnest, madam, I must have no denial; I beseech
your ladyship instruct me, where I may tender my devoirs.
_L. Du Lake_. Since your ladyship commands me, madam, I dare
disobey no longer. My lodgings are in St Lucknor's Lane, at the Cat
_Const_. Whereabouts is that lane, servant?
_Lov_. Faith, madam, I know not that part o'the town.--Lord, how
I sweat for fear! [_Aside_.
_Const_. And yours, madam, where, I beseech your ladyship?
_2 Whore_. In Dog and Bitch yard, an't please your ladyship.
_3 Whore_. And mine in Sodom, so like your ladyship.
_Const_. How, Loveby! I did not think you would have used me
_Lov_. I beseech your ladyship, but hear my justification as I
_Const_. By no means, sir; that were such a rudeness to leave
persons of quality, to wait upon me: Unhand me, sir.
_Isa_. Ha, ha, ha!--[_Exeunt_ CONST. ISA.
_Lov_. I am ruined! for ever ruined. Plague, had you no places in
the town to name, but Sodom, and Lucknor's Lane, for lodgings!
_L. Du Lake_. If any prejudice arise from it, upon my honour,
son, 'twas by mistake, and not intended you: I thought she desired to
have been admitted of the quality.
_Lov_. I was curst, when I had first to do with you.
_L. Du Lake_. Well, I thank heaven, that has indued me with such
[_Exeunt all but_ LOVEBY _and his Boy_.
_Lov_. I have made a fair hand on't to-day;--both lost my
mistress, and hear no news from my friend below: The world frowns upon
me, and the devil and my mistress have forsaken me: My godfathers and
godmothers have promised well for me: Instead of renouncing them, they
have renounced me.
_Boy_. Sir, I saw my Lady Constance smile as she went out: I am
confident she's angry but from the teeth outwards: you might easily
make fair weather with her, if you could get the money you promised
her, but there's the devil--
_Lov_. Where is he, boy? shew me him quickly.
_Boy_. Marry, God bless us! I mean, sir, there's the difficulty.
_Lov_. Damned rogue, to put me in hope so--
_Enter_ BIBBER _at the other end_.
_Lov_. Uds so, look where Bibber is: Now I think on't, he offered
me a bag of forty pounds, and the lease of his house yesterday: But
that's his pocky humour; when I have money, and do not ask him, he
will offer it; but when I ask him, he will not lend a farthing.--Turn
this way, sirrah, and make as though we did not see him.
_Bib_. Our gentleman, I think, a-talking with his boy there.
_Lov_. You understand me?--
_Boy_. I warrant you, sir.
_Lov_. No news yet; what an unlucky rascal 'tis! if the rogue
should hereafter be reduced to the raiment of his own shreds, I should
not pity him.
_Bib_. How's this!
_Lov_. Now is this rascal hunting after jests, to make himself
the greatest to all that know him.
_Bib_. This must be me.
_Boy_. I can hear neither tale nor tidings of him: I have
searched him in all his haunts; amongst his creditors; and in all
companies where they are like to break the least jest. I have visited
the coffee-houses for him; but among all the news there, I heard none
_Bib_. Good, i' faith.
_Lov_. Where's the warrant? I'll put in my own name, since I
cannot find him.
_Boy_. Sir, I gave it a scrivener at next door, because I could
not write, to fill up the blank place with Mr Bibber's name.
_Lov_. What an unlucky vermin 'tis! now, for an hundred pound,
could I have gratified him with a waiter's place at the custom-house,
that had been worth to him an hundred pound a-year upon the nail.
_Bib_. Could you so, could you so, sir? give me your hand, and I
thank you heartily, Mr Loveby.
_Lov_. Art thou honest Will? faith, 'tis not worth thy thanks,
till it be done: I wish I had the money for thee.
_Bib_. How much is't, sir?
_Lov_. An hundred pounds would do it.
_Bib_. Let me see: forty, I have already by me; take that in
part, sir;--and that, and the lease of my house, would over-do it.
_Lov_. By all means thy lease, Will: ne'er scruple at that; hang
a piece of parchment, and two bits of soft wax! thou shalt do't, thou
_Bib_. Why, then I will, sir:--But stay, stay: now I think on't,
Frances has one hundred and twenty pieces of old grandam-and-aunt gold
left her, that she would never let me touch: if we could get that, Mr
Loveby! but she'll never part with it.
_Lov_. Tis but saying the place is for her; a waiting woman's
place in the custom-house: Boy, go, and tell her on't immediately.
_Bib_. Hold a little; she has been very desirous to get a place
in court, that she might take place as the queen's servant.
_Lov_. She shall have a dresser's place, if thou'lt keep counsel.
The worst on't is, I have never a warrant ready.
_Bib_. 'Tis all one for that, sir; she can neither write nor
read; 'tis but my telling her 'tis a warrant, and all's well. I can't
but laugh to think how she'll be choused.
_Lov_. And you too: [_Aside_.] Mum, she's here, Will.
_Franc_. A waiting-woman's place in the custom-house! there's
news for me! thank you, kind Mr Loveby; you have been instrumental, I
hear, of my preferment.
_Lov_. No, 'tis a dresser's place at court, landlady.
_Franc_. O gemini! that's better news.
_Bib_. Aye, but you must make haste and fetch an hundred pieces:
I can assure you five hundred are bidden for it: And the courtiers are
such slippery youths, they are ever for the fairest chapman.
_Franc_. I'll fetch it presently;--oh how my heart quops now, as
they say: I'll fetch it presently: Sweet Mr Loveby, if the business
can be done, it shall be a good thing in your worship's way, I promise
you: O the father! that it could be done: O sweet father! [Loveby
_plucks out a paper_.
_Lov_. Here, Mr Bibber, pray put in Madam Bibber's name into the
_Bib_. Madam Bibber! there's joy!--I must call you wife no more,
'tis Madam Bibber now.
_Franc_. Pray read it, Mr Bibber.
_Bib_. An order for the admission of the illustrious lady, Madam
Bibber, into her majesty's service.
_Franc_. Pray give me the paper, I'll have nobody touch it but
myself; I am sure my money pays for it, as they say. These are the
finest words; Madam Bibber! pray, chicken, shew me where Madam is
written, that I may kiss it all over. I shall make bold now to bear
up to those flirting gentlewomen, that sweep it up and down with their
long tails. I thought myself as good as they, when I was as I was; but
now I am as I am.
_Lov_. Good landlady, dispatch, and bring the money--
_Franc_. Truly, in the place of a dresser, I dare be bold to say,
as they say, I shall give their majesties worships good content: I'll
go fetch it.
_Bib_. We must keep the poor soul in ignorance as long as we
can, sir; for when she has once smoked it, I have no other way but to
retreat into the body of my janizaries, my journey-men; and never come
out into her presence more. Where will you be at nine o'clock, sir,
that we may rejoice over our good fortune?
_Lov_. Call me at my Lord Nonsuch's house, and I'll go with you.
_Bib_. We'll have the fiddles, and triumph, i'faith.
_Lov_. Lord, how eager this vermin was to cheat himself! Well,
I'll after; I long to finger these Jacobus's: Perhaps they may make my
peace again with my mistress.
_Enter_ FAILER _and_ NONSUCH. [CONSTANCE _and_ ISABELLA
_Fail_. I vow to gad, my lord, Sir Timorous is the most dejected
person in the world, and full of regret for what is past. 'Twas his
misfortune to be drawn in by such a person as Madam Isabella.
_Non_. Tis well his estate pleads for him; he should ne'er set
foot more within my doors else.
_Fail_. I'll be security for him for time to come: Leave it to
me to get the licence: All I desire is, your daughter may be ready
_Non_. Well, let me alone with her.
[_Exeunt_ FAILER _and_ NONSUCH.
_Isa_. You heard the dreadful sound, to-morrow, cousin.
_Const_. I would not throw myself away upon this fool, if I could
_Isa_. Better marry a tertian ague than a fool, that's certain;
there's one good day and night in that.
_Const_. And yet thou art mad for him thyself.
_Isa_. Nay, the fool is a handsome fool, that's somewhat; but
'tis not that; 'tis a kind of fancy I have taken to a glass coach, and
six Flanders mares; rich liveries, and a good fortune.
_Const_. Pr'ythee do not mind me of 'em; for though I want 'em
not, yet I find all women are caught with gaieties: One grain more
would turn the balance on his side; I am so vexed at the wild courses
of this Loveby.
_Isa_. Vexed? why vexed? the worst you can say of him is, he
loves women: And such make the kindest husbands, I'm told. If you had
a sum of money to put out, you would not look so much whether the man
were an honest man, (for the law would make him that) as if he were a
good sufficient pay-master.
_Const_. As I live, thou art a mad girl.
_Set_. She must be used as mad folks are then; had into the dark
_Const_. But all this is no comfort to the word, to-morrow.
_Isa_. Well, what say you, if I put you to-night into the arms of
_Const_. My condition's desperate, and past thy physic.
_Isa_. When physic's past, what remains but to send for the
divine? here's little Nicodemus, your father's chaplain: I have spoke
with him already; for a brace of angels he shall make all sure betwixt
you without a license; aye, and prove ten at night a more canonical
hour than ten i'the morning.
_Const_. I see not which way thou can'st perform it; but if thou
do'st, I have many admirations in store for thee. [_Whispers_.
_Isa_. Step in, and get a cushion underneath your apron.
_Const_. O, I must be with child, it seems!
_Isa_. And Loveby shall bring you to bed to-night, if the devil
be not in the dice: away, make haste;--[_Exit_ CONSTANCE.]
Setstone, be not you far off: I shall have need of you too: I hear my
uncle coming--Methinks I long to be revenged of this wicked
elder, for hindering of my marriage to-day: Hark you, Setstone--
_Set_. Tis impossible, madam; 'twill never take.
_Isa_. I warrant you; do not I know him? he has not brains
enough, if they were buttered, to feed a blackbird--Nay, no
replies--out of what I have said, you may instruct my cousin too.
_Isa_. Oh, are you there, sir? Faith, it was kindly done of you
to hinder me of a good husband this afternoon: And but for one thing,
I would resolve to leave your house.
_Non_. I'm glad there's any thing will stay thee.
_Isa_. If I stay, 'tis for love of my cousin Constance, not of
you: I should be loth to leave her in this sad condition.
_Non_. What condition?
_Isa_. Nay, I know not; she has not worn her busk this fortnight.
I think she's grown fat o'the sudden.
_Non_. O devil, devil! what a fright I'm in!
_Isa_. She has qualms too every morning: ravens mightily for
green fruit; and swoons at the sight of hot meat.
_Non_. She's with child: I am undone! I am undone!
_Isa_. I understand nothing of such matters: She's but in the
next room; best call her, and examine her about it.
_Non_. Why Constance, Constance!
_Enter_ CONSTANCE, _as with child_.
_Isa_. Now for a broad-side; turn your prow to him, cousin.
_Non_. Now, gentlewoman! is this possible?
_Const_. I do not reach your meaning, sir.
_Non_. Where have you been of late?
_Const_. I seldom stir without you, sir: These walls most
commonly confine me.
_Non_. These walls can get no children; nor these hangings;
though there be men wrought in 'em.
_Isa_. Yet, by your favour, nuncle, children may be wrought
behind the hangings.
_Non_. O Constance, Constance! How have my grey hairs deserved
this of thee? Who got that belly there?
_Const_. You, I hope, sir.
_Non_. Tell me the truth, for I will know it; come, the story.
_Const_. The story's quickly told, sir; I am with child.
_Non_. And who is the father?
_Const_. I do not know, sir.
_Non_. Not know! went there so many to't?
_Const_. So far from that, that there were none at all, to my
best knowledge, sir.
_Non_. Was't got by miracle? Who was the father?
_Const_. Who got your money, sir, that you have lost?
_Non_. Nay, Heaven knows who got that.
_Const_. And, Heaven knows who got this: for, on my conscience,
he, that had your money, was the father on't.
_Non_. The devil it was as soon.
_Const_. That's all I fear, sir.
_Isa_. 'Tis strange;--and yet 'twere hard, sir, to suspect my
cousin's virtue, since we know the house is haunted.
_Non_. 'Tis true, that nothing can be laid, though under lock and
key, but it miscarries.
_Isa_. 'Tis not to be believed, what these villainous spirits can
do: they go invisible.
_Const_. First, they stole away my prayer-book; and, a little
after that, a small treatise I had against temptation; and when they
were gone, you know, sir--
_Isa_. If there be such doings, pray heaven we are not all with
child. 'Tis certain, that none live within these walls, but they have
power of: I have reared Toby, the coachman, any time this fortnight.
_Non_. Out, impudence! A man with child! why 'tis unnatural.
_Isa_. Ay, so is he that got it.
_Non_. Thou art not in earnest?
_Isa_. I would I were not:--Hark! I hear him groan hither. Come
in, poor Toby.
_Enter_ TOBY, _the coachman, with an urinal_.
_Non_. How now! what have you there, sirrah?
_Tob_. An't please your worship, 'tis my water. I had a spice
o'the new disease here i'the house; and so carried it to master
_Non_. Well; and what did he say to you?
_Tob_. He told me very sad news, an' please you: I am somewhat
bashful to speak on't.
_Isa_. Out with it, man.
_Tob_. Why, truly, he told me, the party that owned the water was
_Isa_. I told you so, uncle.
_Non_. To my best remembrance, I never heard of such a thing
_Tob_. I never stretch out myself to snap my whip, but it goes to
the heart of me.
_Isa_. Alas, poor Toby!
_Non_. Begone, and put off your livery, sirrah!--You shall not
stay a minute in my service.
_Tob_. I beseech your good worship, be good to me; 'twas the
first fault I ever committed in this kind. I have three poor children
by my wife; and if you leave me to the wide world, with a new charge
_Non_. Begone! I will not hear a word.
_Tob_. If I must go, I'll not go alone: Ambrose Tinis, the cook,
is as bad as I am.
_Non_. I think you'll make me mad. Call the rascal hither! I
must account with him on another score, now I think on't.
_Enter_ AMBROSE TINIS.
_Non_. Sirrah, what made you send a pheasant with one wing to the
_Amb_. I beseech your worship to pardon me; I longed for't.
_Isa_. I feared as much.
_Amb_. And I beseech your worship let me have a boy, to help me
in the kitchen; for I find myself unable to go through with the work.
Besides, the doctor has warned me of stooping to the fire, for fear of
_Non_. Why, are you with child, sirrah?
_Amb_. So he tells me; but, if I were put to my oath, I know not
that ever I deserved for't.
_Non_. Still worse and worse. And here comes Setstone groaning.
_Set_. O, sir! I have been so troubled with swooning fits; and
have so longed for cherries!
_Non_. He's poopt too.
_Isa_. Well, this is not the worst yet: I suspect something more
than I will speak of.
_Non_. What dost thou suspect, ha!
_Isa_. Is not your lordship with child, too?
_Non_. Who, I with child! marry, heaven forbid! What dost thou
see by me, to ground it on?
_Isa_. You're very round of late;--that's all, sir.
_Non_. Round! that's only fat, I hope. I have had a very good
stomach of late, I'm sure.
_Isa_. Alas, and well you may;--You eat for two, sir.
_Non_. Setstone, look upon me, and tell me true: Do you observe
any alteration in me?
_Set_. I would not dishearten your ladyship--your lordship, I
would say--but I have observed, of late, your colour goes and comes
extremely. Methinks your lordship looks very sharp, and bleak i'the
face, and mighty puffed i'the body.
_Non_. O, the devil! Wretched men, that we are all! Nothing
grieves me, but that, in my old age, when others are past
child-bearing, I should come to be a disgrace to my family.
_Const_. How do you, sir? Your eyes look wondrous dim. Is not
there a mist before 'em?
_Isa_. Do you not feel a kicking in your belly--When do you look,
_Non_. Uh, uh!--Methinks, I am very sick o'the sudden.
_Isa_. What store of old shirts have you against the good time?
Shall I give you a shift, uncle?
_Non_. Here's like to be a fine charge towards! We shall all be
brought to-bed together! Well, if I be with devil, I will have such
gossips: an usurer, and a scrivener, shall be godfathers.
_Isa_. I'll help you, uncle; and Sawney's two grannies shall be
godmothers. The child shall be christened by the directory; and the
gossips' gifts shall be the gude Scotch kivenant.
_Const. Set. Non. Tob. Amb_. Uh! uh! uh!
_Isa_. What rare music's here!
_Non_. Whene'er it comes from me, 'twill kill me; that's certain.
_Set_. Best take a vomit.
_Isa_. An't come upward, the horns will choke him.
_Non_. Mass! and so they will.
_Isa_. Your only way, is to make sure o'the man-midwife.
_Non_. But my child's dishonour troubles me the most. If I could
but see her well married, before I underwent the labour and peril of
child-bearing!--What would you advise, niece?
_Isa_. That which I am very loth to do. Send for honest Jack
Loveby, and let him know the truth on't: He's a fellow without a
fortune, and will be glad to leap at the occasion.
_Non_. But why Loveby, of all the world? 'Tis but staying 'till
to-morrow, and then Sir Timorous will marry her.
_Const_. Uh!--I swell so fast, I cannot hide it 'till to-morrow.
_Isa_. Why, there's it now!
_Non_. I'll send for the old alderman, Getwell, immediately:
He'll father the devil's bastard, I warrant you.
_Isa_. Fie, uncle! my cousin's somewhat too good yet for an
alderman. If it were her third child, she might hearken to you.
_Non_. Well, since it must be so, Setstone, go you to Loveby;
make my excuse to him for the arrest, and let him know, what fortune
may attend him.
_Isa_. Mr Setstone, pray acquaint him with my cousin's affection
to him; and prepare him to father the cushion underneath her
[_Aside to_ SETSTONE. _Exit_.]
_Set_. I'll bring him immediately.
_Isa_. When he comes, uncle, pray cover your great belly with
your hat, that he may not see it.
_Non_. It goes against my heart to marry her to this Loveby; but,
what must be, must be.
_Const_. O, Mr Loveby! The welcomest man alive! You met Setstone,
I hope, that you came so opportunely?
_Lov_. No, faith, madam; I came of my own accord.
_Isa_. 'Tis unlucky; he's not prepared.
_Lov_. Look you, madam, I have brought the hundred pounds; the
devil was as punctual as three o' clock at a playhouse. Here; 'tis
right, I warrant it, without telling: I took it upon his word.
_Const_. Your kindness shall be requited, servant: But I sent for
you upon another business. Pray, cousin, tell it him, for I am ashamed
_Lov_. Ha! 'tis not that great belly, I hope. Is't come to that?
_Isa_. Hark you, Mr Loveby; a word with you.
_Lov_. A word with you, madam: Whither is your cousin bound?
_Isa_. Bound, sir?
_Lov_. Ay, bound: Look you, she's under sail, with a lusty
_Non_. I sent for you, sir; but, to be plain with you, 'twas more
out of necessity than love.
_Lov_. I wonder, my lord, at your invincible ill-nature. You
forget the arrest, that I passed by: But this it is to be civil to
unthankful persons; 'tis feeding an ill-natured dog, that snarls while
he takes victuals from your hand.
_Non_. All friends! all friends! No ripping up old stories; you
shall have my daughter.
_Lov_. Faith, I see your lordship would let lodgings ready
furnished; but I am for an empty tenement.
_Non_. I had almost forgot my own great belly. If he should
discover that too! [_Claps his hat before it_.
_Isa. [To Lov_.] You will not hear me, sir. 'Tis all roguery, as
_Lov_. Flat roguery, I'll swear! If I had been father on't, nay,
if I had but laid my breeches upon the bed, I would have married her:
But I see we are not ordained for one another.
_Non_. I beseech you, sir.
_Lov_. Pray cover, my lord.
_Isa_. He does his great belly, methinks.
_Non_. I'll make it up in money to you.
_Lov_. That cannot tempt me. I have a friend, that shall be
nameless, that will not see me want; and so, your servant.
_Isa_. I'll after, and bring him back.
_Non_. You shall not stir after him;--Does he scorn my daughter?
_Isa_. Lord, how fretful you are! This breeding makes you so
_Non_. 'Tis no matter, she shall straight be married to Sir
_Const_. I am ruined, cousin.
_Isa_. I warrant you.--My lord, I wish her well married to Sir
Timorous; but Loveby will certainly infect him with the news of her
_Non_. I'll dispatch it, ere he can speak with him.
_Isa_. Whene'er he comes, he'll see what a _bona roba_ she
_Non_. Therefore, it shall be done i'the evening.
_Isa_. It shall, my lord.
_Const_. Shall it?
_Isa_. Let me alone, cousin.--And to this effect she shall write
to him, that, to conform to your will, and his modesty, she desires
him to come hither alone this evening.
_Non_. Excellent wench!--I'll get my chaplain ready.
_Const_. How can you hope to deceive my father?
_Isa_. If I don't, I have hard luck.
_Const_. You go so strange a way about, your bowl must be well
bias'd to come in.
_Isa_. So plain a ground, there's not the least rub in't. I'll
meet Sir Timorous in the dark; and, in your room, marry him.
_Const_. You'll be sure to provide for one.
_Isa_. You mistake me, cousin:--Oh! here's Setstone again.
Mr Jeweller, you must again into your devil's shape, and speak with
Loveby. But pray be careful not to be discovered.
_Set_. I warrant you, madam. I have cozened wiser men than he in
my own shape; and, if I cannot continue it in a worse, let the devil,
I make bold with, e'en make as bold with me.
_Isa_. You must guide him, by back ways, to my uncle's house, and
so to my cousin's chamber, that he may not know where he is when he
comes there. The rest I'll tell you as we go along.
_Enter_ TIMOROUS; _after him_ BURR _and_ FAILER.
_Tim_. Here, here, read this note; there's news for us.
_Fail_. Let me see't. [_Reads_.
_Sir Timorous, Be at the garden-door at nine this evening; there
I'll receive you with my daughter. To gratify your modesty I designed
this way, after I had better considered on it: and pray leave your
caterpillars, Burr and Failer, behind you. Yours,_ Nonsuch.
There is some trick in this, whate'er it be. But this word,
caterpillars--You see, Burr, Sir Timorous is like to be lured from us.
_Burr_. Is there no prevention? [_Aside_.
_Fail_. One way there is.--Sir Timorous, pray walk a turn, while
Burr and I confer a little upon this matter.--Look you, Burr, there is
but one remedy in nature, I vow to gad; that is, for you to have a new
Sir Timorous, exceeding this person in bounty to you. Observe, then;
in Sir Timorous' place will I go, and, egad, I'll marry my lady
Constance; and then, from the bowels of friendship, bless thee with a
thousand pounds, besides lodging and diet for thy life, boy.
_Burr_. Umph, very well thought on.--No, sir! you shall trust
to my bounty; I'll go in his place. Murmur or repine, speak the least
word, or give thy lips the least motion, and I'll beat thee till thou
art not in condition to go.
_Fail_. I vow to gad, this is extreme injustice.--Was it not my
_Burr_. Why, dost thou think thou art worthy to make use of thy
own invention?--Speak another word, d'ye see!--Come, help me quickly
to strip Sir Timorous; his coat may conduce to the deceit.--Sir
Timorous, by your leave. [_Fatts on him_.
_Tim_. O, Lord! what's the matter?--Murder? murder!
_Burr_. D'ye open? I have something in my pocket that will serve
for a gag, now I think on't.
[_Gags, and binds him_.
So, lie there, knight. Come, sir, and help to make me Sir Timorous;
and, when I am married, remember to increase your manners with my
fortune.--Yet we'll always drink together. [_Exeunt_.
ACT V. SCENE I.
_Enter_ CONSTANCE, ISABELLA, _and_ NONSUCH.
_Const_. This is just the knight's hour; and lovers seldom come
after their time.
_Non_. Good night, daughter; I'll to bed, and give you joy
to-morrow morning. [_Exit_.
_Isa_. I'm glad he's gone: What, your train takes?
_Const_. Yes, yes; Loveby will come: Setstone has been with him
in disguise; and promised him golden mountains, if he will not be
wanting to his own fortune.
_Isa_. Is your habit provided too?
_Const_. All is ready.
_Isa_. Away then; for this is the place where we must part like
knights errant, that take several paths to their adventures.
_Const_. 'Tis time, for I hear somebody come along the alley;
without question 'tis Timorous. Farewell; the chaplain stays for me in
_Isa_. And I'll post after you to matrimony; I have laid a fresh
parson at the next stage, that shall carry me tantivy.
_Enter_ BURR _with_ TIMOROUS'S _coat on_.
_Burr_. My lady Constance!
_Isa_. The same: Sir Timorous?
_Burr_. The same.
_Isa_. Sir Timorous takes me for my cousin.
_Burr_. My lady Constance mistakes me for the knight.
_Isa_. Here, sir; through the dark walk: 'tis but a little way
about--He's my own beyond redemption--
_Burr_. The Indies are mine; and a handsome lady into the
_Enter_ FAILER, _dogging them, as they go off_.
_Fail_. He shall be hanged, ere he shall get her. Thus far I have
dogged them, and this way I am sure they must pass, ere they come to
the house. The rogue had got the old dog-trick of a statesman; to fish
things out of wiser heads than his own, and never so much as to take
notice of him that gave the counsel--
_Enter ISABELLA and BURR again_.
Now, if I can but give her the hint without his knowledge!--Madam--my
_Isa_. What voice is that?
_Fail_. A word in private, or you are undone--Pray step aside.
_Burr._ Where are you, madam?
_Isa_. Immediately, Sir Timorous.
_Fail_. You are mistaken, madam; 'tis not Sir Timorous, but Burr
in his clothes; he has stripped the knight, gagged him, and locked him
_Fail_. The same. I could not but prevent your unhappiness,
though I hazard my person in the discovery, I vow to gad, madam.
_Burr_. Who's that talks to you, my lady Constance?
_Isa_. A maid of my acquaintance, that's come to take her leave
of me before I marry; the poor soul does so pity me.
_Burr_. How will that maid lie, thinking of you and me to-night!
_Isa_. Has he the key about him? [_To FAILER_.
_Fail_. I think so, madam.
_Isa_. Could not you possibly pick his pocket, and give me the
key? then let me alone to release Sir Timorous; and you shall be
witness of the wedding.
_Fail_. Egad, you want your cousin Isabella's wit to bring that
to pass, madam.
_Isa_. I warrant you, my own wit will serve to fool Burr--and you
too, or I am much deceived. [_Aside_.
_Fail_. I am a little apprehensive of the rascal's fingers, since
I felt them last; and yet my fear has not power to resist the sweet
temptation of revenge; I vow to gad I'll try, madam.
_Isa_. Never fear; let me alone to keep him busy.
_Burr_. Come, madam, and let me take off these tasteless kisses
the maid gave you; may we not join lips before we are married?
_Isa_. No; fie, Sir Timorous.
[_They struggle a little, and in that time FAILER picks his pocket
of the key_.
_Fail_. I have it--here it is--now, shift for yourself, as I'll
do; I'll wait you in the alley.
_Isa_. Sir Timorous, pray go into my chamber, and make no noise
till I return; I'll but fetch the little man of God, and follow you in
_Burr_. There's no light, I hope?
_Isa_. Not a spark.
_Burr_. For to light me to the mark--
_Isa_. What a scowering have I 'scaped to-night! Fortune, 'tis
thou hast been ingenious for me! Allons, Isabella! Courage! now to
deliver my knight from the enchanted castle.
_Enter LOVEBY, led by SETSTONE, antickly habited; with a torch in
one hand, and a wand in the other_.
_Lov_. What art thou, that hast led me this long hour through
lanes and alleys, and blind passages?
_Set_. I am thy genius; and conduct thee to wealth, fame, and
honour; what thou comest to do, do boldly; fear not; with this rod I
charm thee; and neither elf nor goblin now can harm thee.
_Lov_. Well, march on; if thou art my genius, thou art bound to
be answerable for me; I'll have thee hanged, if I miscarry.
_Set_. Fear not, my son.
_Lov_. Fear not, quotha! then, pr'ythee, put on a more familiar
shape:--one of us two stinks extremely: Pr'ythee, do not come so near
me; I do not love to have my face bleached like a tiffany with thy
_Set_. Fear not, but follow me.
_Lov_. 'Faith, I have no great mind to't; I am somewhat godly at
present; but stay a month longer, and I'll be proud, and fitter for
thee. In the mean time, pr'ythee, stay thy stomach with some Dutchman;
an Hollander, with butter, will fry rarely in hell.
_Set_. Mortal, 'tis now too late for a retreat; go on, and live;
step back, and thou art mine.
_Lorn_. So I am, however, first or last; but for once I'll trust
_The scene opens, and discovers CONSTANCE, and a Parson by her; she
habited like Fortune.
_Set_. Take here the mighty queen of good and ill, Fortune; first
marry, then enjoy thy fill Of lawful pleasures; but depart ere morn;
Slip from her bed, or else thou shalt be torn Piecemeal by fiends;
thy blood caroused in bowls, And thy four quarters blown to the top of
_Lov_. By your favour, I'll never venture. Is marrying the
business? I'll none, I thank you.
[_Here CONSTANCE whispers SETSTONE_.
_Set_. Fortune will turn her back if twice denied.
_Lav_. Why, she may turn her girdle too on t'other side[A]. This
is the devil; I will not venture on her.
[Footnote A: A usual expression of indifference for a man's
_Set_. Fear not; she swears thou shalt receive no harm.
_Lov_. Ay, if a man durst trust her; but the devil is got into
such an ill name of lying--
_Set_. Whene'er you are not pleased, it shall be lawful to sue
out your divorce.
_Lov_. Ay, but where shall I get a lawyer? there you are
aforehand with me; you have retained most of them already. For the
favours I have received, I am very much her servant; but, in the way
of matrimony, Mr Parson there can tell you 'tis an ordinance, and must
not be entered into without mature deliberation; besides, marriages,
you know, are made in heaven; and that I am sure this was not.
_Set_. She bids you then, at least, restore that gold, which she,
too lavishly, poured out on you, unthankful man.
_Lov_. Faith, I have it not at present; 'tis all gone, as I am a
sinner; but, 'tis gone wickedly; all spent in the devil her father's
_Set_. Where is the grateful sense of all your favours? Come,
fiends, with flesh-hooks, tear the wretch in pieces, And bear his soul
upon your leather wings, Below the fountain of the dark abyss.
_Lov_. What, are you a-conjuring? If you are good at that sport,
I can conjure as well as you--[_Draws his sword_.
_Const_. Hold; for Heaven's sake, hold! I am no spirit; touch but
my hand; ghosts have no flesh and blood. [_Discovering_.
_Lov_. My lady Constance! I began to suspect it might be a trick,
but never could imagine you the author. It seems you are desirous I
should father this _hans en kelder_ here?
_Const_. I know not how, without a blush, to tell you, it was a
cheat I practised for your love.
_Set_. A mere tympany, sir, raised by a cushion; you see 'tis
_Const_. Setstone was sent to have acquainted you; but, by the
way, unfortunately missed you.
_Lev_. Twas you, then, that supplied me all this while with
money? pretty familiar, I hope to make thee amends ere I sleep
to-night. Come, parson, pr'ythee make haste and join us. I long to be
out of her debt, poor rogue.
[_The parson takes them to the side of the stage; they turn their
backs to the audience, while he mumbles to them_.
_Set_. I'll be the clerk; Amen--give you joy, Mr Bridegroom, and
_Lov. Const_. Thanks, honest Setstone.
[_BIBBER, FRANCES, and music without--they play_.
_Music_. God give your worship a good even, Mr Loveby.
_Const_. Hark! what noise is that! Is this music of your
_Set_. Alas, madam, I know nothing of it.
_Lov_. We are betrayed to your father; but the best on't is, he
comes too late to hinder us--fear not, madam, I'll bear you through
[_As they rush out, BIBBER, FRANCES, and Music are entering in;
BIBBER and FRANCES are beaten down.--Exeunt LOVEBY; CONSTANCE,
SETSTONE, and Parson_.
_All cry out_. Oh the devil! the devil! the devil!
_Bib_. Lord bless us, where are you, Frances!
_Fran_. Here, William! this is a judgment, as they say, upon
you, William, for trusting wits, and calling gentlemen to the tavern,