STEPHEN

Well Sir. Why, you see where I am Sir. bt Sir, in debt. Then th'art a scurvy father, and a filthy brother. But yours can, for all the City reports what And abominable scold he has God to his wife. And I'll proclaim thy baseness to the world; Ballads I'l make, and make him Tavern music To sing thy churlish cruelty. A pox o'your box, I shall never be so happy to Reward it better; set me fair; aloft now. What wast? Seven still, pox on't; that number of the Deadly sins haunts me damnably; Come Sir, throw. Take the Miller. I hope we shall have good cheer, when two aters, and a Tray go toth' market. Your box is Like your belly mine Host, it Draws all; now for a suit of apparel. Foot, I think my father threw three when I was Begotten; pox on't, I know now why I am so Haunted with threes. I met the third partly of a knave as I came. Why a Sergeants Yeoman, man; the supervisor himself Is but a whole one, and he shares but a groat in the Shilling with him. No, he rests there. I thank you Sir, and so much a looser? there's but The wast-band of my suit left: now sweet bones. Soft, this die is false. Fullum: It's false, and I'll have my money again. I, have at you Sir. Mine Host, my Cloak was lined through with Orange tawny velvet. You're a company of Conycatching rascals; Is this a suit to walk without a Cloak in? Cuz, shall I tell thee the truth; I had diminished But six pence of the forty shillings by chance meeting with a Friend, I went to a taylor, bargained for a suit, it Came to full forty, I tendered my xxxix and a half, And do you think the scabby-wristed rascal would Trust me for six pence. Pox on him, if the taylor had been a man, I had Had a fair suit on my back, so venturing for The tother Tester But after this day, I protest Cuz, you shall never See me handle those bones again; this day I Break up school: if ever you call me unthrift after This day, you do me wrong. Well may he Speed Sir; Lambskin and Speedewell, Would? Is't so? I think I shall give you a medicine To purge this itch of love, Sir. Each Festival day I'l come unto thy house, And I will pi e upon thy threshold. If e'r I live to see thee Shreiffe of London, I'l gild thy painted posts cum privilegio, And kick thy Sergeants. Why, I'l beg for thee, Boy; I'l break this leg, and bind it up again, To pull out pity from a stony breast, Rather than thou shalt want. Churl, Dog, you churlish rascally miser. Cuz, I grieve for thee, that thou hast undergone Thy father's curse, for love unto thy Uncle. I pity that y'faith. Would, a course? sfoot I hate: Cuz, canst lend me 40. shillings? Could I but repair this old decayed Tenement Of mine with some new plaster; for alas, what Can a man do in such a case as this? Tush, leave that to me, because thou shalt wonder At it: If you should see me in a scarlet gown Within the compass of a gold chain, then I Hope you'll say, that I do keep my self in Good compass: then Sir, if the Cap of Maintenance Do march before me, and not a Cap be suffered To be worn in my presence, pray do not upbraid Me with my former poverty: I cannot tell, state And wealth may make a man forget himself; But I beseech you do not; there are things in my Head that you dream not of; dare you try me, Cuz? Why, gramerey Cuz; now if the dice do run right, This 40. shillings may set me up again: To lay't on my back, And so to pawn it, there's never a damned Broker In the world will give me half the worth on't: No, whilst it's in ready cash, that's the surest Way; 7. is better than 11. a pox take the bones And they will not favour a man sometime. As many good Angels guard thee, as thou hast given Me bade ones to seduce me, for these deputy devils Dam worse than the old ones. Now Cuz, pray listen, Listen after my transformation; I will henceforth Turn and Apostate to prodigality; I will eat Cheese and Onions and buy Lordship's, and will Not you think this strange? Why gramercy, by this hand I'll make Thee and Alderman before I die, do but Follow my steps. Dice mine Host: Is there no other room empty? As good trust to hangmen as to executors: Who's in the bowling Alley mine Host? Give's a bail of Dice. We fear no Counters now mine Host, so Long as we have your bail so ready. Come, trip. And what says your father yet, Cuz? Thou liest Zantippe; it had been better thou hadst Been pressed to death under two Irish Rugs, than to Ride honest Socrates thy husband thus, and abuse his Honest child. Thou liest again, 'twilbe at More-gate, Beldame, where I shall see thee in the Ditch dancing in a Cucking-stool. Thou liest again. You'll be a whore then. If you complain upon mine honest Cuz, And that his father be offended with him, The next time I meet thee, though it be i'th' street, dirt upon thy velvet Cap; Nay worse, Plestaine thy Ruff; nay worse than that, I'l do thus: With me would you talk, Gentlewoman? Not very brave neither; yet I make a shift I'l be no Pupil to a woman; leave your discipline. Yet I must run to'th' end of it. I would stay where I am, if I had any money. I think so too, I have played at Passage all This while, now I'ld go to Hazard. It's all the portion I have; I have nothing to maintain me but my it; My Money is too little I'm sure. Why Mistress, my shoulders were not made for a Froc And a Basket, nor a Coal-sack neither, no nor My hands to turn a trencher at a tables side. The fortune of the Dice you see. You'd be as beggarly as I am. Nay, you must be well hanged e'r you can be as I am. Would? Some rich widow? By this penniless pocket, I think 'twere not the worst way. Would? let me recount these articles: Seek her out; Promise her fair; Marry her; Let her estate fly: But where should I find her? 'Sfoot, if it were, I would be a Chapman; I'ld see for My pleasure, and buy for my love, for money I have none. Spend her estate, were't five Aldermen's; I'l put you In security for that, sfoot all my neighbours shall be bound For me, nay, my kind Sister in law shall pass her word For that. I'l bless her then; I ever drunk so much, That I was never great feeder; give me drink, And my pleasure, and a little flesh serves my turn. Your self, Gentlewoman, I would it were no worse; I have herd you reputed a rich widow. I'l let out your leases for you, if you'll allow me The power I'l warrant you. I'l be honest with some; if I can he honest with all, I will too. I can make no blind bargain, unless I be In your bed, Widow. I'l do bade enough, fear it not. No Widow, I'l stand to no hazard of blind Bargains; either promise me marriage, and give Me earnest in a handfast, or I'l not budge A foot. I'l grow stouter when I am married. I'l give you cause I'l warrant you. You shall have one with some, and you have me, It's sealed, I am thine; now Cuz fear no black Storms; if thy father thunder, come to me for shelter. Thou shalt take me so too Hodge, for I'l be thy fellow, Though thy Mistress's Husband. Give me thy hand. I find much debts belonging to you, Sweet; And my care must be now to fetch them in; Content thee, Sweet, those days are gone, I, even from my memory; I have forgotten that e'r I had such follies, And I'l not call him back: my ears are bent To keep your state, and give you all content. Roger, go, call your fellow-servants up to me, And to my Chamber bring all books of debt; I will overlook, and cast up all accounts, That I may know the weight of all my cares, And once a year give up my stewardship. Oh Nephew are you come: The welcomest wish That my heart has; This is my hinsman, Sweet. I should have begged that bounty of your love, Though you had scanted me to have given't him; For we are one, I and Uncle Nephew, He and Nephew Uncle, but my Sweet self, My slow request you have anticipated With proffered kindness; and I thank you for it. But how, kind Cozin, does your father use you? Is your name found again within his books? Can he read son there? Cozin, grieve not at it; that father lost at home, You shall find here; and with the lose of his inheritance, You meet another amply proffered you; Be my adopted son, no more my kinsman; So that this borrowed bounty do not stray From your consent. Come then my dearest son, I'l now give thee A taste of my love to thee; be thou my deputy, The Factor and disposer of my business; Keep my accounts, and order my affairs; They must be all your own; for you, deer Sweet, Be merry, take your pleasure, at home, abroad; Visit your neighbours; ought that may seem good To your own will, down to the Country ride; For cares and troubles lay them all aside, And I will take them up, it's fit that weight Should now lie all on me: take thou the height Of quiet and content, let nothing grieve thee; I brought thee nothing else, and that I'll give thee. Save you Master Alderman, I have some business with you. Would, would, would. Oysters, new Walfleet Oysters. Rise Boy; thou art now my son, and owest no knee To that unnatural; I charge you rise. Proud Sir, this son which you have alienated For my loves sake, shall by my loves bounty Ride side by fidem in the best Equipage Your scorns dare pattern him. Would, would, I laugh at your envy Sir, my business S to you. Sir, I am furnishing some shipping forth, And want some English traffic, Broad-clothes, Karsics Or such Like, my voyage is to the Straits: If you can supply me, Sir, I'l be your Chapman. I'l go with you, Sir. It's well. Good Master Alderman I think that string will still Ostend mine ear; You mean the jarring Betwixt me and my brother? I hate no poison Like that brother's name Uncivil churl, when all his sails were up. And that his proud heart danced on golden ways: Yet Sir, then I being sunk, and drowned in Own misery, he would not cast out a poor line Of thread to bring me to the shore; I had been Dead, and might have starved for him. True Sir; this was he that lifted me from want And misery, whose cruel father for that Good cast him away; scorning his name and blood; Lopped from his side this branch that held me deer. For which he's now my son, my joy, my heir, But for his father hang him. By heaven. Now by my life my Boy, for this brave spirit g thee in mine arms: loose life and limbs thou forsake thy love. Speak what you please Sir, he's a Gentleman as Good at either of you both, and shall in lists of Love for such a bedfellow, brave him that dares, And here lay down more gold to win her love, Than both your states are worth. You are uddy Grooms to upbraid me with that scorn, Which virtue now gilds over; Pray ye Gentlemen May I request your names. Very good Sir, my little Lambskin. I have you Here in Sheepskin; look you, it's so y'faith. See, Master Alderman, these two cracked Gallants Are in several bonds to my Predecessor For a debt of full two thousand apiece. Cozin, fetch me a Sergeant strait. I'l try that, Sir. I am glad on't Sir; they are but such as seek To built their rotten state on you, and with your Wealth to underprop their weakness; Believe me, reverend Sir, I had much rather You'd venture that my Cuz might call you father. Wife, your two debtors were here but now; And Lambskin; A Wolf could not have torn Lambskin worse, than the bore name Sergeant: the very thought made them both take their heals and run away. At thy girdle, Sweet, hangs the keys, to the prison doors or let them lose: my intent only in way of mirth to them from the presence of Mistress Jane, That our adopted son might have no bar Unto his love. Sir, here's your factor. How? cast away; where? Would? What's that to you? if in my favour you'll Fit warm, then bury all love to him, Nay duty, hear you Sir? What sheddest thou tears For him, that had no care to see thy heart drop Blood? he was unnatural, and heaven hath Justly now rewarded him. Greedy desire he swallowed, and now is swallowed: It's but his hire; and I'l not pity it, no more Than he, in his abundance, did my misery. In good sooth you shall not, Nor him, nor her at this time, gentle wife; He scorned me in his height, now being poor, If that he needs my help, he knows my door. Sir, we'll for this time leave you, at fitter leisure, We'll have this marriage talked of. Come wife; Go not to see your father, Sir, I charge you. Now Sir, what make you here so near the prison? So Sir, your pity will not quit you pains, I fear me; I shall find that bird I think to be that churlish Wretch, your father, that now has taken Shelter here in Ludgate; Go too, Sir, urge me Not, you'd best; I have given you warning: Fawn not on him nor come not near him, If you'll have my love. Yes, as he did me, To laugh and triumph at my misery; You freed me with his gold, but against his will: For him I might have rotted, and lain still; So shall he now. If him thou pity, it's thine own decay: There let him howl; Get you gone, and come not near him Well, go thy ways, thou pattern of true virtue; My full, I could even weep, and much ado I had to for bear, To hear a brother begging in a Jail, That but e'r while spread up a lofty sail As proudly as the best: O, 'twerea sin Unpardonable in me, should I not succour him? Yes, I will doe't, yet closely it shall be done, And he not know from whence his comforts come. What ho, Keeper there, a word I pray. What's he that at the grate there begged even now. I should do, knew he me as I would know Him: prithee take him from the grate, And that no more he stand to beg, There's ten pound to pay his score, and Take off all his wants; if he demand Who sends it, tell him, it's thine own free Hand to lend him money. Spend what he will, my purse shall pay it all; And at his parting hence, the poorest prisoner, And all free Citizens that live in Ludgate, Shall bless his coming in; I'l for his sake Do something now, that whilst this City stands, Shall keep the Foster's name engraven so high, As no black storm shall cloud their memory. Oh Gentlemen, you're both welcome, Have you paid this money on your bonds yet? Do as you please; In all thy deeds th'rt governed with good stars, Therefore if thou criest peace, I'll not raise wars. E'ne order it how thou wilt. Wife I must stand to the arbitrement. Go Cozin, receive their Money, and Sirrah make them drink. How now sweet wife, what art thou Musing on? A wooing sweet, for what? Wouldst have me kiss him that would kill me. Thy songs are Angels tunes, and on thy wings I'l fly with thee to heaven. Thou speakest as I would have thee; His debts I have justly weighed, and find them light. Thou sayest most right, But I of purpose keep aloof to try My kinsman; whom I spied most dolefully Hovering about the grate, where his father cried With piteous voice, for bred; yet did I chide And railed against the Boy; but my heart says (How ere my tongue) it was drowned in tears, To see such goodness in a son. I'l lay a wager wife, that this two hundred pound Paid by these foolish fellows, will by the Boy Be given his father. In doing me such wrong he does me right Ludgate was once my dwelling, and to show That I true feeling of his misery knew; Albeit long since blown over; so thou'lt consent, Within that place I'l raise some monument, Shall keep our names alive till doomsday. Their loves outstrip my merit. Yet since they lay that load on me, I'l bear it, And wait in scarlet on my liege and King. But pray resolve me, Master Alderman, Why makes the King this visitation? A pious, worthy, and religious act: Come Sir, toth' Guildhall; Wife, look to your Kinsman, watch him near; but do not hinder Him if he relieve his father: Come Master Alderman, With such sweet incense up your offerings fly, I'l built one Altar more to charity. Where's the Keeper, go Sir, take My Officers, and see your prisoners Presently conveyed from Ludgate unto Newgate, and the Counters. Let the Constables of the Wards assist you, Go, dispatch and take these with you; how now, What makest thou here thou Caitiff? had comest Thou to stitch his wounds that seeks to cut My Throat, darest thou in despite relieve this Dotard? Yes, I'l stop that pipe that thou mayest pining fit, When drops but fell on me, thou poysond'st it: Thou thrus 'st a sons name from thy cruel breast, For clothing of his Uncle; now that Uncle Shall thrust him naked forth for clothing thee, Banished for ever from my wealth and me. Thou ravest. No, keep it, he perhaps, that money stole From me, to give it thee, for which to vex thy Soul, turn him forth of doors, make him Thy h e, of Jay es, Misery's, curses, and despair; For here I worser herit him of all. I'l make thee wash those curses off with tears. Keeper, away with him out of my sighed, And do Sir, as I charged you. How now wife, art vexed yet? I'm glad th'are gone, mine eyes with rain did swell, And much ado they had from powering down: The Keeper knows my mind, Wife I have paid My brother's debts; and when he's out of door: To march to Newgate, he shall be set free. He's my lives best health, The Boy shall not miscarry for more wealth Than London Gates look safe up every night, My breath in black clouds flies, my thoughts Are white. This is my meaning wife; I'l take the prison down and built it new, With Leads to walk on, Rooms large and fair: For when my self lay there, the noisome air, Choaktup my spirits, and none better know, What prisoners feel, than they that taste the woe. The workmen are appointed for the business, I will have't dispatched before it's thought on. What did you with my brother? How did he meet that unexpected kindness? Not yet, I'l wrack his sorrows to the height, And of themselves they'll then sink softly down; Keeper, go thou again after my brother, Charge in my name him and his son to appear Before the King, to whom I will make known Their wrongs against me; showing just cause To disinherit both by course of law. Be gone. Come Wife. Thou shall know that anon. The heavens oft scowl, clouds thicken, winds blow high, Yet the brightest Sun clears all, and so will I. Yes my good Lord, there's now a wonder in your sighed. No my Lege, I would not so boast mine Own wife, but it's a wonder that excels beauty. Patience my Liege, this is a woman that Was never vexed. The Like plead I, my Lord: for when my state Had raised itself by and uncertain fate, I took this outcast child, made him my own, As full and free, as I my self had sown The seed that brought him forth; for this my love, His obliged duty presently did prove A traitor to my trust, against my will, Succouring that foe, which I did love so ill, Only for hating him; my charity being thus Abused, and quit with injury, what could I then But as his father erst, so I again might throw Him from my love? for worse is love abused Then new born hate, and should be so refused: I did a father's partly, if it were bade, Biame him for both, there I my pattern had. Oh let me now anticipate your Grace, And casting off the shadow of a face, Show my hearts true figure, how have I strived To make this forced counterfeit long lived, And now it bursts; comeinto my heart, I have two jewels here shall never partly From my loves eye watch, two worthy to be filled, On times best record; a woman and a child, Now Sir, to you I come, we must be friends, Though envy wills not so, yet love contends Gainst envy and her forces; my young years Say I must offer first, a peace in tears. The keeper is discharged Sir, your debts are paid, And from the prison yare a new free man made: Theres not a Creditor can ask you onght, As your son did form, so have I bought Your liberty with mine, and to increase it more, Because I know bore liberty is poor Without assistance: to raise your state again, The thirds of mine are yours, say you Amen. Thou art only wise in virtue, as thou settest down, So let it be, half my estate's your own. Oh, they are buried all Sir. Yet without boast, my Liege, let me relate One small thing more, remorse of my own state, And my deer brother's worse succession; For that we both have prisoners been in one Selfsame place of woe, and felt those throws That Ludgate yields; my charity bestows Some alms of comfort: Keeper you can speak it. Oh my good Lord, I ever keep in mind and English Sentence, which my tutor is, and teaches me to act my Charity mine full is Performance, when the Benefactor's dead. This my good Lord, women are forgetful. Children unkind, Executors covetous, and take what they find, If any man ask where the deads goods became, The Executor swears he died a poor man. No my Lord, she's exempt from the proverb. Thanks for thy excuse good wife, but not thy love To fill my grave before me, I would not live to see that day. Many jewels my good Lord; a brother, wife, and child, For this I would have strove even with a father, ere rough storms did in my browsappeare, Within my bosom it was always clear. I take him, and to him back do give, All that my self behind in state shall leave. Lamb me no Lambs, Sir.