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Full speech
Will you be so prodigal? Prithee vanish Into some outhouse, thought it be the piggestie, My skullion shall come to thee. And hardly can keep finger from the eye To hear him named. Are not we base Rogues That could forget this? Still merry master Welborne. How greedy these Chamberers are of a beardless chin! I thin the Titts will ravish him. Here; drink it off, the ingre dients are cordial, And this the true Elixir; It hath boiled Since midnight for you. It's the Quintessence Of five Cocks of the game, ten dozen of Sparrows, Knuckells of Veil, Potato roots, and Marrow; Currall, and Ambergris: were you two years elder, And I had a Wife, or gamesame Mistress I durst trust you with neither: You need not bait After this I warrant you; though your journey's long, You may ride on the strength of this till to morrow morning. I know my Cue, never doubt me. I am glad you are come, until I know your pleasure. I knew not how to serve up my Ladies dinner. Marry Sir, I have some Growse, and Turkey chicken, Some Rails, and Quails, and my Lady willed me ask you What kind of sauces best affect your palate, That I may use my utmost skill to please it. It shall be done Sir. Will you still be babbling; Till your meat freeze on the table? the old trick still. My Art never thought on. Would I had The roasting of his heart, that cheated him, And forces the poor gentleman to these shifts, By Fire (for Cooks are Persians, and swear by it). Of all the gripping, and extorting tyrants I ever herd, or read of, I never met A match to Sir Giles Overreach. Just as much As my throat is worth, for that would be the price on't. To have a usurer that starves himself, And wears a cloak of one and twenty years On a suit of fourteen groats, bought of the Hangman, To grow rich, and then purchase, is too common: But this Sir Giles feeds high, keeps many servants, Who must at his command do any outrage; Rich in his habit; vast in his expenses; Yet he to admiration still increases In wealth, and Lordship's. Or make us partakers Of your sudden mirth. What of him man? Is this all? Nay, it's Like, The rest of his tribe. My Lady frowns. This refreshing Follows your flux of laughter. We are ready. Royal as and Emperor! He'll prove a brave master, my good Lady knew To choose a man. He was ever so. If that I had my clever here I would divide your Knaves head. Let him; I'll be angry. You think you have spoke wisely goodman Amble, My Lady's goe-before. 'Twit me with the Authority of the kitchen? At all hours, and all places I'll be angry; And thus provoked, when I am at my prayers, I will be angry. I am friends with thee, and yet I will be angry. No matter whom: yet now I think on't I am angry with my Lady. Cause enough Master Steward. I was entertained by her to please her palate, And till she forswore eating I performed it. Now since our master, noble Alworth died, Though I crack my brains to find out tempting sauces. And raise fortifications in the pastry, Such as might serve for models in the Low-Countries, Which if they had been practised at Breda, Spinola might have thrown his cap at it, & never took it. Matter? with fix eggs, and a strike of rie-meale I had kept the Town, till doomsday, perhaps longer. What's this? Marry this, when I am three parts roasted, And the fourth partly parboiled, to prepare her viands, She keeps her chamber, dines with a panada, Or water-gruel; my sweat never thought on. By whom? By such as pretend love to her, but come, To feed upon her. Yet of all the Harpies, That do devour her, I am out of charity With none so much, as the thin-gutted Squire That's stolen into commission. The same, the same. Meat's cast away upon him, It never thrives. He holds this Paradox, Who eats not well, can never do justice well: His stomach's as insatiate as the graven, Or strumpetts ravenous appetites Your hand, If you have a stomach, a cold bake-meat's ready. We are all your servants. You air, and air, But will you never taste but spoonemeate more? To what use serve I? I am appeased, and Furnace now grows Cook. I'll make it run, and run. Save your good wor ship. If you have a mind to feed, there is a chine Of beef well seasoned. A pheasant larded. Other Kukeshawes. Beside there came last might from the forest of Sherwood The fattest stag I ever cooked. A stag Sir partly of it prepared for dinner, And baked in puffpast. How the lean Sceleton's raped!
Plot summary
Plot — A New Way to Pay Old Debts
Sir Giles Overreach’s schemes for the accumulation of lands and money include a campaign against his prodigal nephew, Welborne, and a plot to marry his daughter Margaret to Lord Lovell. Welborne has sold Overreach all his land to fund a prodigal lifestyle, and now Overreach’s agent Marrall has him ejected from his alehouse lodging: the objective is to force him into a choice between hunger and theft, and so procure his death either by starvation or on the gallows. Welborne goes to see the recently widowed Lady Alworth, who is refusing to see her many suitors, including Overreach’s associate Justice Greedy. Welborne forces his way in and persuades her, trading on his friendship with her dead husband, to entertain him and a guest to dinner. Welborne brings Marrall, who infers from their cordial reception that Welborne is to marry the widow. He is therefore likely to be worth more alive than dead, so Overreach changes his plans and lends him £1,000, with which Welborne pays his old debts. When Overreach attempts to close the trap and force him to sign away Lady Alworth’s lands, however, Welborne refuses, and insists that his own estate is wrongfully detained by Overreach. His uncle produces the deeds to prove otherwise, but Marrall, fed up with Overreach’s maltreatment, has tampered with them and they are invalid. To redeem his lost reputation, Welborne joins the army to fight for king and country. In the other plot, Lord Lovell goes to dinner at Overreach’s house, where another unexpected guest is Lady Alworth. Overreach plans to tempt him into sex with Margaret, so that he will then be obliged to restore her honour by marrying her. Margaret confides to Lovell that she prefers his page, Lady Alworth’s stepson, and, knowing that the attraction is mutual, Lovell agrees to help. He proposes that she should deceive her father with a display of amorousness, and that Alworth should be introduced into the equation as a carrier of love letters between them. Overreach agrees to this, is pleased to overhear that the first letter seems to solicit an elopement, and makes arrangements for his chaplain to perform the marriage. He is reeling from the failure of his Welborne scheme when the news arrives that the marriage has taken place — but the bridegroom has been Alworth, not Lovell. The extortioner goes mad and is sent to Bedlam, tormented by his conscience for his many financial misdeeds. Lovell asks Lady Alworth to marry him.