BENJAMIN

If I were, I could not help it. Its a rank lie. Its deer, so bought. 'Twill not redeem your soul. Say, with deep sluices, all these lively springs, That run through the soft channels of my veins, Should be exhaust by thee, or thine by me, And burning malice should be quenched in blood: He that speeds best, wins what he should abhor, And glories to be cursed a conqueror. Let's think the terms, on which we venture blood. Th'ffects are weighty, let the cause be good. How have I wronged thee? No help? let fury arbitrate the rest. This passion must but centre in one breast. Yet let's embrace, and pardon; and even love In hate. Oh suffer not the dying blood To prejudice the sad survivors good. Forgive my deed, and by that mercy, I Depend on for my sins; my mercy shall Raise up the children for the father's fallen. Farewell. Who has abused you thus Sir? could you be so credulous, to think this a receipt good for the Gout? Sir, give me leave to help you. Come Sir, respect your health above your gain. I would not for your wealth have half your pain. Go in Sir, get some broth, look to your wound. Your mortgage leave to me, I'll keep that found. Now for some cleanly trick to shift my hands Of this same shallow superstitious fool. Now cozen, I'am sure you are not without and Erram Pater in your pocket. They say this is Like to be a very strange year. Bless us. What? Is there no sad mortality to ensue? Sirrah Nice, I had a dream to night. I'll tell thee what. Me thought, my troubled fancy Led me into a Garden proudly decked With Nature's glory, and the sweetest flowers, That ere my breath sucked up: where the green grass Tempted my sleepy spirits to soft repose. There came, me thought, a friend (dead now long since) And shook me by the hand, and questioned me Of many sad events, whose conference So vexed me that I woke. Why standest amazed? Thou wilt not leave me Coz. Wilt thou be a fool of fate? who can Prevent the destiny decreed for man? I'll on. This charm has cast him off, now to my mortgage. O Vaster, thou art dead; thy hapless issue, Exposed to the bleak air of these cold times. I have no means to expiate the wrongs, My cruel Father, and my self more bloody, Have done thee, but by charity to thine, All the poor pieces that remain of thee. So with the plasters of our broken good, We hide the wounds, first having shed the blood. Within there Hoh. Incensed Youth. Thou fightest against power with a sword of straw: As good cope with the devil, as with the Law. My grief requites you both. No matter, had it so pleased the high powers, If that my Father had excused yours. Rise: that's heavens endue. These arms now thee intwine, That wish for ever, to be called thine: A strange new influence runs through my affections, Into my panting heart; and there inthroned, Commands my lower faculties to love This poor distressed Virgin. I am flamed With pity and affection; whither more! Yet let my senses some cool reason gather: What, love the daughter, and have slain the father? (I must: heaven knows I must). See, my loved friends: My coming to you is for other ends. My Father sent me to invade your lands. A while stand free redeemed with my hands. There's money to relieve you: that done, you shall have more. Despair not: heaven will not forsake the poor. I burst, if I contain my passion. Fairest Virgin, If thou darest credit me, I love thee. Found Youth, thy rage is vain. Th'art young: thy error does thy virtue stain. I love her as a wife. Alas! that poverty should virtue smother. Not in my breast. No, I'll still honest be: Virtue in rags are gold's all one to me. Censure me both, as you shall find me true, I'll be your father, and your brother too. Of that you cannot dispossess me, Sir. Indeed Sir, by that power you put me in, In charity to their miserable state, Orphaned of Parents, and of means to live, I gave them 3. months profit of the lands. I hope Sir, you'll not nullify my deed. Contain your self, young friend. He is my father, Let not the warm nest of my love to you, Hatch up encouragement to my father's wrongs. Good Sir confirm This work of piety, which I presumed, On faith of your good nature to afford. Strange! that same Quacksalver has done him good, a gainst his will. How fare you Sir? I have invited her with her brother to supper this night. Will you— Thou wouldst take her any night. Is she not flesh? Go in, let me alone. This petulant fool. Shall be my scaffold to erect my plots. Come, friends, unload your sorrows on my heart. Griefs weight is eased; when each one bears his partly. Thou durst not say so, were we on joust terms. Yowl earn them first? Are thy ends good in this given liberty? Or dost it here alone to murder me? What tale? good friend, be plain and short. Woe to a heart, by expectation centuples the smart. Lives Vaster then? By me? What then? Heaven pardon me. What said the dying Vaster? His love gives fire to my green pile of sorrows. May his bones rest in peace: in grief I live; Less he and heaven do my black fault forgive. I'll be a joust Executor of his will. Good friend, great thanks: my purse th'hast spared to ceaz But what is worse, hast robbed me of my peace. Ʋ aster, th'art dead: if thy transformed soul, Could from the battlements of you high Tower, Behold the vowed endeavours of my heart, To satisfy thy will and my huge debt, In thee, to thine, thou wouldst my merit set amongst thy best friends: yet narrow are my bounds; To give them plasters, that first gave them wounds. Friend adieu. To Vaster and my vow I will be true. How thick the sharp pulse of my conscience bears! How strangely my distracted Fancy threats! O unappeased murder, that still keeps The sensitive committer from fast sleeps: And murmurs in the ears a fatal knell Of restless thoughts on earth, of worse in hell, How deep thou strikest me with a silent blow! Be patient heart, to thy fate humbly bow. Fetch him again I cannot; o his sown Is too too mortal. Why then hurled I down My sinking spirits? Let me sly to mirth, And burden cares with wine, to make them sink. The world's rule is, Who feels the load of conscience let him drink. But o importunate grief! too hard it is, To counterfeit a false and forged bliss! Yet once I'll force a trial; I have here and Inn, I hear and wonder, is turned house of sin. I'll see, if the lose sprawls, with their sharp wit, Can give my mind a medicine for this fit. Whores I abhor, as Gardiners Jays: no matter; Once for experiment, I'll hear them chatter. Prevention! I think here's one of the journey-women come, to proffer me her service. Black prostitution! that any such face should ever wait upon thee. Sister, what seek you? Fut, if I say I'm one, I then fallen short, Of the occasion I intend for sport. I'm such a fool in this Priapus-rode. Me thinks, sweetheart, your honest-man should be one, that should please your appetite, stir your veins, tickle your blood, and make you laugh delight into your panting spleen. Come, let me kiss thee—so: this was with ease; Words are airy shades, th'are deeds that please. Not to unlock thy treasures with such keys. Gold only can surprise such holds as these. And I have that will do it. Come, come; why should you be so quaint, and nice, That know what belongs to it? 'Dsso, a Virgin At thirteen, or perhaps a little under, Could not with whuling nay's be so perverse, In her beworded Maidenhead. Thou dost not rightly of my merits deem. I would not know you such, as you now seem. The golden footed law, that goes or runs, Stays, and turns back, as we give motion to it, Shall step the pace, which thou wouldst have it. Nay, Speak as thy tongue instructs it. I will change Thy poverty to gold, rich robes, a Coach, And prancing Coursers, that shall whirl thee through The popular streets; and when thou sittest in pride, The tamed law shall lacquay by thy side. Thou shalt Nectar drink: Make ebrious waste of the sweet Gnossian wines; Fesants shall be course diet: refined marrow, Small pounded nuts, and losseng'd Amylum, Scraped pearl and date-stones sprinkled on each slice, And strewed with sugar, Like white frost on ice. Grant me but love, I'll rain a shower of Gold Into thy lap, outshining Jove, when he Wrapped in his glory courted Danae. Oh let not tears spoil such a beauty. Tell me; Why spill you water Like a Crockodile, to captive me; that might have don't with mirth, nimbler then air? My truth shall quite thy faith, Impart thy mind. How? I faint to tell thee; thou art then a widow: The wars have ended his infortunate days. Nay, let not grief oppress thy spirits. O, I have killed the wife and husband with one blow. Lift up thy sowning eyes. Revive thy heart: Vaster yet lives in me: I am his son, that hath thy husbands lands. Receive this earnest; all my state is thine. I do not: when I taint thy chaster ears With motions of black lust, pronounce me Villain. Tell me, who brought you to this Brothell-Inne? But couldst thou live infectlesse in this air? Will? This gives strange suspicion. So, you pernicious Dam of lustest foul littour, You that buy beauty and do fell it again; And live by occupation. Hear you? Free This woman from your brothel slavery. Or I shall bring you to the cart and lash. Thou shalt loose more by keeping her. Go cleanse the house from this disorder, or I here discharge thee. I'll do my best, Sir See, The pleased fates consent to succour thee. My father's house shall shelter thee unknown. Please the old man with words, but hold your own. If my plot takes, as I can hope no less, This lust of his shall thy good Fortune's bless. I have be seeking all you three with nowes. Good news; friend Sager, the day's yours. You have prevented my request: I purposed To beg that kindness of you. Robin, I would Entreat you to accept my service, but I mean the name of it: for in deed I'll use thee As my most equal and respected friend. Nan, in thine arms I throw and lock my self; My Fortune's be all thine: the key's thy love; Let this kiss be the seal. You sacred powers Make indissoluble this knot of ours. Now, master Sager, give her that respect, You would my wife: all charges are my debt. Robin, you know the house; conduct your sister thither; that done, conucy these letters to the widow Sorrow; (that's her borrowed name) she lies at my father's. Bromley is grown mad with rage: I'm jealous of him. You know the Hope's of your posterity dwell on your present Fortune's: all which burn with the short Taper of your singular life, Say he should quench it. I cannot tell, it's but my iclaousie. 'Tis not amiss, to keep preventions eye Open and wary. Instruments of death Stand ready pressed to a malicious arm. And policy, Like a cunning Jesuit, Watches behind that Arras for a call. The deed once done, help it who can, or shall. The fury of his madness, Envies some, That surges from the poisoned avarice Of his swollen heart: his broken resolutions, Wherein his traitor-tongue can scarce forbear The protestation. Give me leave to fear. That must be studied. Thus—Listen—We'll try what mischiefs he can warp: With wooden wasters learn to play at sharp. How do you, Sir? It's joust: The stone ith' bladder now should make him smart That has so long be sick of stone ith' heart. How now? is my cousin Nice playing at Base? I know one of them well, by his sad tale Of Vasters death: for that I'll not pursue him. I go Sir—All's for me; yet whileshe lives, And his hydroppicke spirits can look through His bodies loopholes, and convey the pleasure Of his contemplate gold, his lustest sole God, Through those windows to the admiring heart: Nothing comes from him; not the superfluities Of basers things, not being first improved. I am his only issue, and on me I think he means to settle all his state. It's the only way to give me cursed and poor, To built my nest on such extorted store. Those father's, that distressed men's ruins use, " As scaffolds to built up their racked wealth, " Prove in the end, Like city-houses, that " On small foundations carry spacious roofs: " When the incensed heavens in tempests frown, " Their own top-heauy weight tumbles them down. " The first or second generation spills " By riot, what by wrong the father fills. In this I'll be a mirror to these times: And by the hand of charity return To every man, what by his covetous rape Their states are ravished of: so work my rest. Th'ill got gone, that which remains is blessed. You have done your health the more wrong, Sir. It's a fair living, Sir; but I would not have you med dle with it. O Sir, good deeds are scant, When we advantage take of poor men's want. Bruster is and honest man; lend him some money without such sharp security. I follow, Sir. Preposterous transversion of our selves! Erection of our faces should instruct Our groveling thoughts to ascend. How do men thwart The teaching hand of Nature, and our birth! Our heads cut air, and yet our hearts blow earth: I look for Sager here. He's come. So wiser Master's lay some easy baits, At once to tempt and try their servants truth. The subject for quack-salving Empirickes To exercise their inexperience on, Should not be men, but malkins. No, he's a most rank Coward; and I know, Dares not come near thee, though thou Wertenberg asleep. If he does ought, he'l do't by that long Engine. Conceal your self awhile. How fares my name? How does she brook my slow-pac'd coming to her? I love her freely: she's to me as the. Her beauty is best and blessed, whose soul is fair. The Wolf is come. My wish requite you. You walk to have a shoot, Sir: I depart. I would be loath to prejudice your sport. Why would you speak with him? I do not think you mean it; but you know, he's valiant Like a Lion: if cross words should stir your bloods to quarrel—Sir, take heed. He'll be too hard for you, and your long weapon. This meadow is his evening walk. Farewell to you Sir. This I divined. Go, thou despairing wretch, and for thy will, Ten thousand swords shall thy vexed conscience kill. IT was a vain blow to us, and no blood spilled, Not less in thy intention is thy gilded. This Clergy-habite which you have assumed, Make good a while for your supposed death; Allow his tyranny free scope: live close: Till time shall ripen those events, we strive To built on this vile ground. Hold, ther's my key: Into my chamber; I sup at my father's. What, come again? This fool hath frayed him. O gilded! how hast thou made Cowherd of man to fly at his own shade! Now Cousin Nice, what holla you for? Come then, let's walk on—what's here a Port mantua? Why my wise Cousin? why are you so timorous? Are you gone? Well, I see now, he that will be wise by Calendar, shall be a fool by destiny. Sure, this is Bromleys budget, and has gold Put up for his escape: it's so by weight. It falls into my hands most luckily: For I have needs of cash in these occasions. Yet I'll repay't again: my honesty Shall be his friend, whose fear was friend to me. O, in this glass my represented soul Stands manifest to my impartial eye. You heavens rain showers of mercy on my sins: Lest where my pleasure ends my woe begins. What prodigie's this? It is my servant Sir; he meant no ill. (Son offer violence to the mother?) strange! Till I can found this mystery of ill, I'll to the prison and relieve him still. How do these mischiefs flutter in thick heaps! And cloud my understanding from the light, I looked the Sun should shine, find it dark night I cannot stand to examine circumstances. Now master Bromley, whither are you bound? Umh. My father robbed? the widow charged with it? Her son vniayld himself? these are harsh turns. Well, go you two before, prepare the Justice. You have my word for their appearance. Go. Widow, and Robin, now here's none but friends: You'll give me leave to wonder at these ends. Of that anon. Mean time I here present you with a gift, Dearer to me, then is the Sun to earth. So; narrow up your passion for a space: H'you the morgage-deeds? give them my hands. Yet the success on my innention stands. Mother, and brother, (so I hope your titles) My self, and friend here, whom you do not know, Will bail you both. That done, I have and Inn, Now void of Tenant; there dwell all together. My friendship to the power shall pledge your faith. Measure good deeds by what man would, not hath. Do not with too strict rigour exercise your power on his distressed family. Sir, you speak law, not charity. He that will Be nothing more then joust, is unjust still. Woe to that quited soul, to whom from heaven All justice, and no mercy shall be given. Your mercy to the widow, to the Orphans. Well—let me tell you this —Sager is dead. So flies report, born on presumptions wings. But how he died, that aerie bird not sings. Killed—but by whom—weight deeply—I must hence. The muttring's strong—look to your conscience. Thus are two Foxes catched in one poor noose. But, Sir, respect your life, your conscience. Upon my life, he'll kill her. Oh presumption, How dost thou dare heavens justice? I must study To interpose prevention. Sir, I'm your son: This breast you gave me, and I'll still conserve it, A faithful closet to lock up your secrets. How will you strike? Pistol her? I apprehend it, poison. Sir, I'll buy you A speedy potion. I'll provide it, Sir. I'll be your Apothecary; but by no means Minister it my self. You must do that, Sir: I cannot do you better service. Rare! Then bring my father to the Galhouse. Be petulant, and let your wanton mirth, Give you forgetful of all wrong. Wonders, miracles —I must needs poison thee. Be not dismayed, my poison shall not hurt thee: I'll tell thee all I have herd all this roguery. Cheer, Widow: let not sorrow make thee sick. Perhaps, I'll catch the knaves at their own trick. Now my wise kindred, why look you so pale? No? why? The falling of a salt keep thee from marriage! well, I have a strange medicine, of quick cure to this conceited sick ness. Robin, fetch me some wine. Coz, how dost feel thy self? Tut man, salt seasons all things; fish or flesh. And troth, thou needest it: for thy wit's but fresh. Here blood, I drink to thee. What meant you Sir, to spill the wine upon him? I thought this dock would fetch your nettle out. I see. small wind turns a fools mill about. Let's go. What? not dead yet? but weeping? come, come dry Up all thy tears: go hie thee in, and die. Much villainy is now together packed. The Scene grows full. Your patience this last act. Would you your lesson perfect? Robin, do't cunningly. My Dad shall be Only to me beholding for his life. By that advantage I recall his love. Now kindred, whither trot you so fast? Sir Bore Notwithstanding, he's a great man, Cousin. Yet he's bore notwithstanding. Yet he's Bore Notwithstanding. But to himself Cou sin, farewell. Come, mother, friend, and wife; take these back places, Where you may hear unseen: that when time serves, I may produce you. Works and hours are spent Then well, when we do good, or ill prevent. Sir, she is dead: her felony is answered Before a higher Court. Will not this move him? His conscience has deaf ears. Me thinks I could prevent all this. Sir, I have here a book already drawn, Seal to it freely, and I'll save your life. You shall confirm me your undoubted heir, And then surrender Vasters mortgaged lands. My Lord and all this bench be witness to it. Then thus I quit you, widow, appear in Court. In earnest, see, she lives, that died in sport. Your Lordship's leave. 'Tis true, she not denies, But they so charged her, and she was so coozend. Therefore she yields to payment. Let them come All three together, they shall have the money. The widow's cleared: but master Valentine— Nay, man, come nearer, you'd have present pay. So must not you. You gave 300. pound to her: 'tis true. Which Like a subtle Quacksalver, you robbed My father of; Sprites, Fairies— How do these mischiefs grow, Like Hidra is heads, faster by cutting off! My lord, upon my soul this woman's clear: And only malice thus accuseth her. We met in single combat in the field: It seems his life unto my sword did yield. Forgive me all, by me you all have lost, The wife a Husband, children a deer Parent: Thus I return you all some recompense. Nan thou shalt loose a husband. Mother, you loose a son, brother a friend. Resume your former state, my father yields it. Now master Bromley, That universal mercy to our gilded, May be afforded, and no blood be spilled: Surrender up your lease for the three lives To Sagers wife and children, and I'll quit you. The Session now dissolves: each Justice rises: No hurt is done; this is the mild Assizes. We have scaped fair thus far: yet there remains A stronger judgement to pass on our pains. Too much to hope or doubt we must not dare. We humbly then stand at your censures bar. If the worst comes that may be, yet I look For this grace, to be saved by my book. But if with your applause our merit stands: Faith then be friends with us, and give's your hands. I'll be the franker Paymaster.