TRIDEWELL

B Ut I beseech you sir, Take me somewhat nearer your Council. May I assure my self, that this report goes true; that you are on this treaty of Marriage with that Widow? Troth in my mind, you were better venture your self, and fortune to the Bermudas. 'Tis true, she has a good estate: some nine thousand, I think: and were and apt match for one that knew how to govern it, and her; some hard bred Citizen, crafty Lawyer, or country Justice. But you, a tender Nur eling of the Court, altogether unmix with such nature or education, to cast your self upon her, who for her years might be your Mother (they say: I ne for saw her) and has been the Town widow these three years, still conversant with Doctors, and Proctors of the civil Law; of which Tribe her husband was too. Never look to be the better for her Riches: Shee'll consume yours and you too though your back were Herculean; and lay you in your graven, or in Bedlam (my life on't) before she dream of dying, though it be all that you can hope, or pray for, after Marriage. What married! Send you joy. I'll out of Town. No, good sir Philip, rather then I would be in found of a Bell that should ring at it, I would have my brains fill lipt out with the Clapper. Sir, I intend to be none of your Mourners, which indeed my presence there would m ke me; and so, perhaps, infect the rest. I leave my best wishes to you, and will in deavour to pray for you. Indeed I will. A Foot-post! Indeed your fine wit will post you into another world one of these days, if it take not the whip ping post in the way. And why Foot-post, in your little wit ty apprehension? Nay I know you are apt to decline any men anger, good Captain Anvil: you have been beaten to't. What are you there too? Mr. Widgine, I take it? From Crowland, I warrant you, a little before a Moulting time. A fair Demonstration! This fellow cannot choose but have a rare sister: He quotes her so! In good time sir. Might she have had'hem both sir? In deed six yoke of such cattle would blow up all his acres in a forenoon. Still she is his Authority. I will see this woman. Sir Philip, here are Guests will applaud your match. Bid'hem welcome God buy. Pray sir, are you in sober earnest? If I can yet redeem him, he is happy. By your leave Lady: May my boldness prove pardonable? Is this she trow! It's true, I brought his name thus far to enter me to your presence. But here I shake it off, as I would do his remembrance: but that I know him too well. Too well indeed Lady; but in the ill partly. I know him to be no equal Match for you. Yet I hear you receive him as a Suitor. It is not gone so far I hope. Beshrew your fortune then. And if my con ell; The friendliest counsel ever you hearkened to, Stop not your venturous foot from one step further, (For now you are upon the brink of danger) You fallen into a Sea of endless sorrows. Look back into your self; read over your Story, Find the content the quiet mind you lived in, The wealth, the peace, the pleasure you enjoyed; The free command of all you had beneath you, And no e to be commanded by above you. Now glance your eye on this side, on the yoke, You bring your neck to, l den down with cares, Where you shall faintly draw a tedious life, And every step encounter with new strife. Then, when you groan beneath your burdenous charge, And wearily chance to revert a look Upon the price you gave for this sad thraldom, You'll feel your heart stabbed through with many a woe, Of which one die not while a thousand grow. All will be then too late: Now is the time, Now rings the warning bell unto your breast: Where if you can but entertain a thought, That tells you how you are beset with danger, You are secum e; Exclude it, you are lost To endless so rows, bought with dearest cost. A subtle question! This woman is not brainless. Love of him Lady? If this can be love, To seek to cross him, in so great a hope, As your enjoying; being all the means, Or possibility he has to live on; If it be love to him, to let you know How lewd and dissolute of life he is, By which his Fortune's being sunk, he is grown The scorn of his acquaintance, his friends trouble, B king the common borrower of the Town. A Gallant lights not a Jobacco Pipe, But with his bor owing letters (she's not moved) And if you put him off a fortnight longer, He l be laid up for moneys he took up To buy his Knighthood; beside his deep engagements To Goldsmith, Silkman, Taylor, Millener, Sempster, Shoemaker, Spurrier, Vintner, Tapster, (All stirs her not, she stands as if prepared To hear as much of truth and bear with it.) Men of all Trades, and Occupations, From his Mercer downward to his Waterman, Have ventured the last sixpence on his Credit; And all but wait to pay themselves from you. And I may well imagine how't would grieve A woman of your wealth, to disburse all, To save a Knight out of his Ward i'th' Counter; And lack with all his company at home; While he frequents youthful society To make more charge for Nurseries abroad: For I have herd him say you are old; and that It is your wealth he marries, worser not you. If this be love to him, that I discover (The means to save you to be his undoing,) Let no man take a friends help in him wooing. Sure, I was much mistaken in this woman. She will discover me. Me think I stand Like a false witness against another's life, Ready to take his punishment. Can this be she? how strangely am I taken! If thou hast mercy, Love, keep't from my heart. Wil't please you hear me? What have I done? The curse of overweening brains, Shame, and disgrace are guerdon of my pains. Oh, I shall fallen beneath the scorn of fools: A punishment as joust, as great for such, That do in things, concern them not, too much. Oh what a settled rock of Constancy She plants her affection? not to move, Though all the breath of sl nderous reproach, Driving tempestuous clouds and storms of horror, Should Beatrice, at once, against it. They said she was old, unhandsome, and unc vill, Forward, and full of womanish distemper. She's none of these: but opposite in all. My witty purpose was to save my friend From such a hazard; and to loath her so, That I might make her loathsome to his fancy: But I my self am fallen into that hazard; To wrong my friend; to burn in lawless lo e; Which o that prayers or penance may remove. I beg your pardon; dare not look upon you.— Indeed Lady, I am so far from being in any plot herein, that I protest it was merely by his outside, and that in the do btfull light of the Evening, that I could guess it he. And had he been denied, I had gone well satis fied, it had been some other man. Which if it prove, and so his name be abused—Or if it be he indeed, though hitherto my most respected Cousin, that offers such and outrage, as you deliver it to be: I am so much a friend to honesty, that let me but see the man or beast, I'll do the fair office of a Gentle man to right you. Indeed Lady I will. Alas fair Lady, would they injure you? And has your youth and b auty placed your love on him? Indeed 'tis pitiful. Weep not sweet Lady. He shall love ye. Show me the mischief, that hath abused us all. Can you conceal him longer? You do instruct me well. Pray let me see him. Mischievous Devil! What magical madness con jured you I to this shape? Indeed I'll conjure you out on't. Nay, indeed I'll Beatrice you a little first, you'll confess the better. 'Twill come the easier from you. 'Tis a good preparati e. No sir, n to any thing. But the truth the truth sir. You would be sweari g now would you? there's for that to. I'll to ll you Lady. The most notorious, base, Beatrice n Rascal out the Town. It l st breath to say more by him. H e is as you see Only is name is Anvil: and they that know him not, call im Cap aine. I pray thee do, to laue me a l bour: for he is not h lf b at n yet. Well sir, thank the Ladies. Now sir, put this La die favour here in your p cket; and keep it there till I call f r it. And mark what I say, if ever I find thee without this Instrument or the Like, when I shall call for it, to Beatrice the (mark me) indeed le eat thee . And now to your xamination. How God your rotten Mutton ship into this Lyo S case? was it by the Owners knowledge? was the Master of these Clothes privy to your undertaking? Answer sirrah, bonafide, I or no. What presumption made you think so vilely of the e Ge tlewomen? The Error's found. Her name you say is Constance, which likewise is the name of a prostituted Strumpet, with whom, 'tis thought, the wantonness of his youth hath held former familiarity; and now it seems makes doubt, imagi ning that letter to be hers, that she pretends a claim to him. And I if it be so. This foe le mistaking we shall all repent; if we pre u nt not what may issue from it. Will you but trust my service for your honour? Then Sir for this time you shall be reprieved, rome further penance: Rise and be our Guide. But ke pe your fear still: for if all out art Miscarry, thou art sure to share the smart. Come gi'me the instrument. Shall I never find thee any where, but thou wilt by joust desert exact a beating from me? Hast thou no conscience? wouldst thou have me lame my self, or melt my grease upon thee. Come Sir, I have overheard you all; give me the Instrument, the instrument I say. Indeed I'll have it. So. Now Sir— Well Sir, I shall for this time pardon you, and never Beatrice you more, it before Sir Philip here you will subscribe to this. 'Tis nothing but a faithful protestation to do reasonable things as I shall appoint, and not to reveal what I shall trust you withal. Take your pleasure. I am content. Write Sir. In what without a Knave we cannot end, A Knave employed do's the oh fice of a friend. Here, and I deliver you this again to keep. Indeed you shall for performance of covenants. Good. Good night Captain. Follow but the way you are in Sir, and you shall arrive at your own wishes. By sequestering her self from you the first night. A fearful vow! look too't. And I warrant she sues for the Divorce first. For her take no thought sir. The interest I have in her Tu resse, with the work I have fashioned upon my Anvil, shall bring all to your wish. I expect to hear from him instantly. Sir, I profess my affection flies eagerly at her. She takes me deeply, how ever you have mistaken one another. O here comes my Anvil! Me thinks his very countenance invites me to strike him though I know he dos me good sir vice now. How prithee? You shall know all. He has sent your cast whore before sir Paul. The success shall unfold it in good time to your and my benefit? doubt not, if she but follow her instructions. This will make to my purpose. Madame, I have not utterance to declare my acceptance of your love. It must therefore be locked up in my breast, the treasure of my heart. Now for the condition upon which your Divorce depends, we must see that performed, and then— You speak nobly. Well then, before your discreet neighbour M. Bulfi changed here. If you have not your will in this, I will disclaim in your favour hereafter. Sir, the condition is (as you may remember— To which I promise my ready help, only I must not appear in the business. As how sir? And thank you sir. Now every man to his partly M. Widgine, You have both your sisters and my best directions all ready, which I doubt not but with the help of your Governor you will make good use of. Madame will you in, and but wish well to our proceedings, and trouble your thoughts no further. Wanton, you have begun propitiously: Proceed but confidently, and I'll warrant thee a wealthy husband by it, or a composition that may prove the better purchase. Right. She do's but hold off till then, and that wilful lie; because she fears it is for Constance's love only, that her Husband desires the Divorce. 'Tis most fairly ominous. Come Lady. He cannot. but be at hand; and our stay may do hurt, (You remember the Doctors lodging I told you of, and sir Phillips appointment to m et you there and hour hence? No more then; away. Fare you well sweet Creature. As I have truth in me, I am most credibly told so. Marry the worst is, her Uncle is so mad at their escape, that to he will never give consent to the match, whereby her portion will be less. Make you no more doubt of that, then I do Ma dame, who have upon the report of it already, prepared the Learned of the Civil Law, those that you nominated of your good acquaintance, and are forward to do you the best office, who have appointed to meet before the Ju ge of the Archdeaa cous Court p esent y, whither I have promised to bring, and will attend you. Sir Phill p hath uva ning already M dame; and with out needless process will be there before you, and wait your continued ming. So that my self and his serva to, who have never been both absent from one of your companies, since your Marriage, justly deposi g you ne er did the realest Rite of Ma riage, the bed oh lice, Madame; y u both consenting, and worser si ring a Divorce, It I inst ncly g au ed, with ut any procee dings I Law. So that all will be euded in three whispers. Ods pity, look who here is. Oh good Madarne, hurt not your self with anger better laugh it out. Forbear sweet Lady, let him be mad by himself. What think you of your Brother's success, now Ma dame? Look you now Madame. See who here come . She is a Holdup her self, if I mistake not her name. You have made a large relation Master Widgine, and a pleasant, I doubt not. Lady do you think of the time? I am your servent Lady— Where's this hospitable Knight that invites Strangers. I mean mere Strangers, that he knows not. Show me the Lad of bounty. I hunger not for his Sapper as I do to salute him. He dos not mean to ieare us dos he? Are you of the invited sir? What are they can ye tell sir? I, peace Y u'll mar all if you laugh. Devonshire or Corn all sir. Very well sir. I might do well if (as he con esses himself) he had not made all too sure, as well within as with ut. Lady give me leave, if I have strained a point of friend ship, it was your love gave the strength to my wit. Fit. love? Your love indeed Lady. Which (and which Cupid par done me for) now, that I see I may enjoy, I am not so eagerly ta ken with, yet if you will— Then to continue sir Paul's Metamorphosis? I'll draw him out of this Doctor. Is not this he? Faith I foresaw and unto wardnesse in the Match: which if you repent the breach of, there's your Licence; and the way to Church lies before you. Oh that's done already. What are ou agreed? Consid r Lady— I would I had not seen, at least not herd her In all so contrary to all opinion. Pray let me speak with you Sir. Sir what will you say, if this Gentlewoman convert the Spaniard, turn him true English subject, and present him to you with the oaths of Allegiance, & S premacie in his mouth presently? To clear that point, do you know the Minister? Nay sir, indeed the fault is yours most extremely now. Pray sir forbear to strain beyond a Woman's patience. Madame, I see too much of your vexation; and in deed I suffer too much with you. As I am a Gentleman I will give you right friendly Counc ll, if you will hear me. I upon the hazard of my discretion. One word, by your leave first M. Doctor, and I 'le at tend you. Sir not alone my Discretion, but my Reputation lies at stake: and I make no doubt of your nobleness upon your Kin men word, my Complotter in this business. Therefore while I hold argument with the Doctor (who shall by no means perceive our deceit) slip you away with her in your Coach, where M. Tridewell hath appointed, till the Eveni g; and let me alone to scuffle with the old man the while And then I doubt not all our troublesome labours shall have a peaceable end. I'll send old Madcap to your Lady in a Thunderclap. But nobl sir, your reputation— Not a Riall sir not I.