Of his love's high-priz'd gem of chastity: Serv. man. I pray you, let's crave your name, That which so many years himself hath staid for? sir; I may else have anger. Alb. You may say, one Albert, riding by this me? [be, [Exit Serving-man. Alb. How like a poisonous doctor have I come, And th' abode of men, to entertain a life My hateful lust: the trees shall shelter And there this short breath of mortality carve This heavy motto of my misery, Who but a damn'd one could have done like me? Carracus, farewel, if e'er thou seest me more, | Shalt find me curing of a soul-sick sore. [Exit. ACTUS TERTIUS. Enter CARRACUS, driving his man before him. [Exit Servant. But could'st thou, Albert, come so near my door, Did'st thou imagine I infring'd my faith, VOL. III. It is neglect, indeed, when friends neglect When of their friend's health they do only ask; ship, Since I have seen a man, whom I late thought H. He'll soon remember his accustom'd friendship. Car. I will surmise so too, and only think Some serious business hinders Albert's presence. But what ring's that, Maria, on your finger? Mar. 'Tis one you lost, love, when I did bestow A jewel of far greater worth on you. Mar. As if you knew not; why d'ye make't so strange? Car. You are dispos'd to riddle; pray let's you, If you seem so forgetful. I took it up Then when you left my lodge, and went away, Which then you reap'd, doth not prevail I never did ascend into thy chamber, me; But found what his lust sought for, dearest thee. Mar. I have heard enough, my Carracus, to bereave me of this little breath. [She swoons. Car. All breath be first extinguish'd :-within there, ho! Enter Nurse and Servants. O nurse! see here, Maria says she'll die. Nurse. Marry, God forbid! oh mistress, mistress, mistress! she has breath yet; she's but in a trance: good sir, take comfort, she'll recover by-and-by. Car. No, no, she'll die, nurse, for she said she would; an' she had not said so, 'thad been another matter; but you know, nurse, she ne'er told a lie: I will believe her, for she speaks all truth. Nurse. His memory begins to fail him. Come, let's bear This heavy spectacle from forth his presence; The heavens will lend a hand, I hope, of comfort. [Exeunt. CARRACUS manet. Car. See how they steal away my fair Maria! But I will follow after her, as far As Orpheus did to gain his soul's delight; And force my love's enjoyment, in despight Than to be tortur'd by the weak assailments The head commander of this universe, Or what incestuous spirit, cruel Albert, Oh, nurse, how is it with Maria? If e'er thy tongue did utter pleasing words, Nurse. Good sir, take comfort; I am forced What will not please: your chaste wife, sir, is dead. Car. 'Tis dead, indeed; how did you know 'twas so, nurse? Nurse. What, sir? When they had fees on both sides; view the thoughts Of forlorn widows, when their knights have left them; Search thro' the guts of greatness, and behold What several sin best pleas'd them: thence I'd descend Into the bowels of some pocky sir, So curst an untruth? But 'twas my mistress' will, Car. I find my brain's too shallow far for study. Will by gross imitation be but sham'd? Your judgment, madam. Nurse. Good sir, walk in; we'll send for learned men That can allay your frenzy. Car. But can Maria so forget herself, As to debar us thus of her attendance? Nurse. She's within, sir, pray you, will you walk to her? Enter MARIA in a page's apparel. Mar. Cease now thy steps, Maria, and look back Upon that place, where distress'd Carracus Enter Young Lord WEALTHY. Ob, see my brother! [Exit MARIA. Weal. jun. Ho, you! three foot and a half! why page, I say! 'sfoot he is vanish'd as suddenly as 14 a dumb shew. If a lord had lost his way now, so he had been serv'd. But let me see, as I take it, this is the house of Carracus; a very fair building, but it looks as if 'twere dead, I can see no breath come out of the chimnies. But I shall know the state on't by-and-by, by the looks of some serving-man. What ho, within here! Enter Servant. Serv. Good sir, you have your arms at liberty? wilt please you to withdraw your action of battery? Weal. jun. Yes, indeed, now you have made your appearance. Is thy living giver within, sir? Serv. You mean my master, sir? Weal. jun. You have hit it, sir, praised be your understanding. I am to have conference with him; would you admit my presence? Serv. Indeed, sir, he is at this time not in health, and may not be disturb'd. Weal. jun. Sir, if he were in the pangs of child-bed, I'd speak with him. Enter CARRACUS. Car. Upon what cause, gay man? Weal. jun. 'Sfoot, I think he be disturb'd indeed, he speaks more commanding than a constable at midnight. Sir, my lord and father, by me a lord, bath sent these lines inclos'd, which shew his whole intent. Car. Let me peruse them; if they do portend To the State's good, your answer shall be sudden, Your entertainment friendly; but if otherwise, Our meanest subject shall divide thy greatness. You'd best look to't, embassador. Weal. jun. Is your master a statesman, friend? Serv. Alas! no, sir; he understands not what he speaks. Weal. jun. Ay, but when my father dies, I am to be called in for one myself, and I hope to bear the place as gravely as my successors have done before me. Car. Embassador, I find your master's will Treats to the good of somewhat, what it isYou have your answer, and may now depart. Weal. jun. I will relate as much, sir, fare ye well. Car. But stay, I had forgotten quite our chief'st affairs: Your master farther writes, some three lines lower, Of one Maria that is wife to me, Weal. jun. Why now I understand you, sir: that Maria is my sister, by whose conjunction you are created brother to me, a lord. Car. But, brother lord, we cannot go this journey. 14 A dumb show—i. e. one of those inexplicable dumb shews ridiculed by Hamlet. See edition of Shakspeare 1778, Vol. X. p. 284. S. Reb. When you have got this prize, you mean to lose me. Had. Nay, pr'ythee, do not think so; if I do not marry thee this instant night, may I never enjoy breath a minute after! by heaven I respect not his pelf, thus much, but only that I may have wherewith to maintain thee. Reb. O, but to rob my father tho' he be bad, the world will think ill of me. Hog. Peter! P. Serv. Anon, sir. Hog. I wonder how Haddit came by that gay suit of cloaths, all his means were consum'd long since. P. Serv. Why, sir, being undone himself, he lives by the undoing or (by lady) it may be by the doing of others? or peradventure both; a decay'd gallant may live by any thing, if he keep one thing safe. Hog. Gentlemen, I'll to the scrivener's, to cause these writings to be drawn. Light. Pray do, sir, we'll now leave you till the morning. Had. Think ill of thee! can the world pity Hog. Nay, you shall stay dinner, I'll return him, that ne'er pity'd any? besides, since there presently; Peter, some beer here for these woris no end of his goods, nor beginning of his good-shipful gentlemen. [Exeunt Hoo and PETER. ness, had not we as good share his dross in his life-time, as let controversy and lawyers devour it at his death? Reb. You have prevail'd; at what hour is't you intend to have entrance into his chamber? Had. Why, just at mid-night; for then our apparition will seem most fearful. You'll make a way that we may ascend up like spirits? Reb. I will; but how many have you made instruments herein? Had. Faith none, but my cousin Lightfoot and a player. Reb. But may you trust the player? Had. Oh, exceeding well; we'll give him a speech he understands not. But, now I think on't, what's to be done with your father's man, Peter? Reb. Why the least quantity of drink will lay him dead asleep.--But hark, I hear my father coming; soon in the evening I'll convey you in. Had. Till when, let this outward ceremony be a true pledge of our inward affections. [Exit REBECCA. So, this goes better forward than the plantation in 15 Virginia: but see, here comes half the West-Indies, whose rich mines this might I mean to be ransacking. Enter HOG, LIGHTFOOT, and PETER, Hog. Then you'll seal for this small lordship, you say? To-morrow your money shall be rightly told up for you to a penny. Light, I pray let it, and that your man may set contents upon every bag. Had. Indeed by that we may know what we steal without labour, for the telling on't over. Had. We shall be bold no doubt; and that, old penny-father, you'll confess by to-morrow morning. Light. Then his daughter is certainly thine, and condescends to all thy wishes? Had. And yet you would not once believe it; as if a female's favour could not he obtain❜d by any, but he that wears the cap of mainte nance; When 'tis nothing but acquaintance, and a bold spirit, That may the chiefest prize 'mongst all of them inherit. Light. Well, thou hast got one deserves the bringing home with trumpets, and falls to thee as miraculously as the one thousand pound did to the taylor. Thank your good fortune. But must Hog's man be made drunk? Had. By all means; and thus it shall be effected: when he comes in with beer, do you upon some slight occasion fall out with him, and if you give him a cuff or two, it will give him cause to know you are the more angry; then will I slip in and take up the matter, and striving to make you two friends, we'll make him drunk. Light. It's done in conceit already-see where he comes. Enter PETER. P. Serv. Wilt please you to taste a cup of September beer, gentlemen? Light. Pray begin, we'll pledge you, sir. Light. Then my hand is in, sir. [LIGHTFOOT Cuffs him. Why goodman Hobby-horse, if we out of our 15 Virginia.-See Dodsley's Old Plays, Vol. VI. p. 44, Note 20, edit, 1780, gentility offer'd you to begin, must you out of your rascality needs take it? Had. Why, how now, sirs, what's the matter? P. Serv. The gentleman here falls out with me, upon nothing in the world but mere courtesy. Had. By this light, but he shall not; why, consin Lightfoot! P. Serv. Is his name Lightfoot? a plague on him, he has a heavy hand. Enter Young Lord WEALTHY. Weal. jun. Peace be here; for I came late enough from a madman. Had. My young lord, God save you. Weal. jun. And you also: I could speak it in Latin, but 16 the phrase is common. Had. True, my lord, and what's common ought not much to be dealt withal; bnt I must desire your help, my lord, to end a controversy here, between this gentleman my friend, and honest Peter, who I dare be sworn is as ignorant as your lordship. Weal. jun. That I will; but, my masters, thus much I'll say unto you, if so be this quarre! may be taken up peaceably, without the endangering of my own person, well and good, otherwise I will not meddle therewith, for I have been vex'd late enough already. Had. Why then, my lord, if it please you, let me, being your inferior, decree the cause between them. Weal. jun. I do give leave, or permit. motion; how many cuffs, Peter, did this gentleman out of his fury make thee partake of? P. Serv. Three at the least, sir. Had. All which were bestow'd upon you for beginning first, Peter. P. Serv. Yes, indeed, sir. Had. Why then hear the sentence of your suffering. You shall both down into master Hog's cellar, Peter; and whereas you began first to him, so shall he there to you; and as he gave you three cuffs, so shall you retort off, in defiance of him, three black jacks, which if he deny to pledge, then the glory is thiue, and he accounted by the wise discretion of my lord here a flincher. Omnes. A very reasonable motion. Weal. jun. Why so; this is better than being among madmen yet. Had. Were you so lately with any, my lord? Weal. jun. Yes faith; I'll tell you all in the cellar, how I was taken for an embassador; and being no sooner in the house, but the madman carries me up into the garret for a spy, and very roundly bade me untruss; and, had not a courteous serving-man convey'd me away whilst he went to fetch whips, I think in my conscience, not respecting my honour, he would have 17 breech'd me. Had. By lady, and 'twas to be fear'd; but come, my lord, we'll hear the rest in the cellar. And honest Peter, thou that hast been griev'd, My lord and I will see thee well reliev'd. [Exeunt. ACTUS QUARTUS. Enter ALBERT in the woods. Which their whole life's repentance scarce can clear? Alb. How full of sweet content had this life I could now tell to friend-betraying man, been, If it had been embraced but before My burthenous conscience was so fraught with sin! But now my griefs o'ersway that happiness. How black a sin is hateful treachery, How heavy and affrightful will their end Who's here, a page? what black disastrous fate 16 The phrase is common.-Alluding to the use of it in Cooke's City Gallant, commonly called Green's Tu Quoque. See Vol. II. p. 538. 17 Breech'd me—i. e. whipp'd me. See Note 48 to Edward II. Vol. I. p. 188. |