A NEW WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS A comedy As it hath been often acted at the Phoenix in Drury-Lane, by the queen's Majesty's servants.  
The Author. PHILIP MASSINGER.  
LONDON, Printed by E. P. for Henry Seyle, dwelling in S. Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the tiger's head. Anno. MDCXXIII. M..   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE ROBERT earl OF CARNARVAN, Master Falconer of England.  
MY GOOD LORD,  
Pardon I beseech you my boldness, in presuming to shelter this Comedy under the wings of your Lordship's favour, and protection, I am not ignorant (having never yet deserved you in my service) that it cannot but meet with a severe construction, if in the clemency of your noble disposition, you fashion not a better defence for me, than I can fancy for myself. All I can allege is, that diverse Italian Princes, and Lords of eminent rank in England, have not disdained to receive, and read Poems of this Nature, nor am I wholly lost in my hopes, but that your Honour (who have ever expressed yourself a favourer, and friend to the Muses) may vouchsafe, in your gracious acceptance of this trifle, to give me encouragement, to present you with some laboured work, and of a higher strain hereafter, I was borne a devoted servant, to the thrice noble Family of your incomparable Lady, and am most ambitious, but with a becoming distance, to be known to your Lordship, which if you please to admit, I shall embrace it as a bounty, that while I live shall oblige me to acknowledge you for my noble Patron, and profess myself to be  
Your honour's true servant Philip Massinger.   

TO THE INGENIOUS AUTHOR MASTER PHILIP MASSINGER, ON HIS comedy Called, A new way to pay old Debts.  

'tIs a rare charity, and thou couldst not  
So proper to the time have found a plot:  
Yet whilst you teach to pay, you lend, the age  
We wretches live in; that to come, the stage,  
The thronged audience that was thither brought  
Invited by your fame, and to be taught  
This lesson. All are grown indebted more,  
And when they look for freedom ran in score.  
It was a cruel courtesy to call  
In hope of liberty, and then, enthrall.  
The nobles are your bondmen Gentry, and  
All besides those that did not understand.  
They were no men of credit bankrupts borne  
Fit to be trusted with no stock, but scorn.  
You have more wisely credited to such,  
That though they cannot pay, can value much.  
I am your debtor too, but to my shame  
Repay you nothing back, but your own fame.   
Henry Moody. miles.   

To his friend the Author.  

YOu may remember how you chid me when  
I ranked you equal with those glorious men;  
Beaumont, and Fletcher: if you love not praise  
You must for bear the publishing of plays.  
The crafty Mazes of the cunning plot;  
The polished phrase; the sweet expressions; got  
Neither by theft, nor violence; the conceit  
Fresh, and unsullied; All is of weight,  
Able to make the captive Reader know  
I did but justice when I placed you so.  
A shamefast Blushing would become the brow  
Of some weak Virgin writer, we allow,  
To you a kind of pride; and there where most,  
Should blush at commendations, you should boast.  
If any think I flatter, let him look  
Of from my idle trifles on thy Book.   
Thomas jay. Miles.   


Dramatis personae.  
Lovell .An English Lord.  
Sir Giles Overreach .A cruel extortioner.  
Welborne .A prodigal.  
Alworth .A young gentleman page to Lord Lovell.  
Greedy ,A hungry justice of peace.  
Marrall .A Team-driver. A creature of Sir Giles Overreach.  
Order. Amble. Furnace. Watchall .servants to the Lady Alworth.  
Will-do .A parson.  
Tapwell .An alehouse keeper.  
Three Creditors.  
The Lady Alworth .A Rich Widow.  
Margaret .Overreach his daughter.  
Waiting Woman.  
Chambermaid.  
Froth .Tapwell's wife.    
A NEW WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS: A comedy.  

Actus primus, Scena prima:  

Welborne. Tapwell. Froth.  WElborne. 
No bouse? nor no Tobacco?  Tapwell. 
Not a suck Sir,  
Nor the remainder of a single can  
Left by a drunken porter, all night paled too.  Froth. 
Not the dropping of the tap for your morning's draught, Sir,  
'Tis verity I assure you.  Welborne. 
Verity, you brach!  
The Devil turned precisian? Rogue what am I?  Tapwell. 
Troth durst I trust you with a looking glass,  
To let you see your trim shape, you would quit me,  
And take the name yourself.  Welborne. 
How! dog?  Tapwell. 
even so, Sir.  
And I must tell you if you but advance,  
Your plimworth cloak, you shall be soon instructed  
There dwells, and within call, if it please your worship,  
A potent monarch, called the Constable,  
That does command a Citadel, called the Stocks;  
Whose guards are certain files of rusty Billmen,  
Such as with great dexterity will hale  
Your tattered, lousy---  Welborne. 
Rascal, slave.  Froth. 
No rage, Sir.  Tapwell. 
At his own peril, do not put yourself  
In too much heat, there being no water near  
To quench your thirst, and sure for other liquour,  
As mighty Ale, or Beer, they are things I take it  
You must no more remember, not in a dream Sir.  Wellborne. 
Why thou unthankful villain dar'st thou talk thus?  
Is not thy house, and all thou hast my gift?  Tapwell. 
I find it not in chalk, and timothy Tapwell  
Does keep no other register.  Welborne. 
Am not I He  
Whose riots fed, and clothed thee? wert thou not  
Borne on my father's land, and proud to be  
A drudge in his house?  Tapwell. 
What I was Sir, it skills not,  
What you are is apparent. Now for a farewell;  
Since you talk of father, in my hope it will torment you,  
I'll briefly tell your story. Your dead father,  
My quondam master, was a man of worship,  
Old Sir John Wellborne, justice of peace, and quorum,  
And stood fair to be Custos rotulorum;  
Bore the whole sway of the shire; kept a great house;  
Relieved the poor, and so forth; but He dying,  
And the twelve hundred a year coming to you,  
Late Master Francis, but now forlorn Welborne.  Welborne. 
Slave, stop, or I shall lose myself.  Froth. 
Very hardly;  
You cannot out of your way.  Tapwell. 
But to my story.  
You were then a Lord of Akers; the prime gallant;  
And I your underbutler; note the change now.  
You had a merry time of't. hawks, and Hounds,  
With choice of running horses; mistresses  
Of all sorts, and all sizes; yet so hot  
As their embraces made your Lordships melt;  
Which your Uncle Sir Giles Overreach observing,  
Resolving not to lose a drop of'em,  
On foolish mortgages, statutes, and bonds,  
For a while supplied your looseness, and then left you.  Welborne. 
Some Curate hath penned this invective, mongrel,  
And you have studied it.  Tapwell. 
I have not done yet:  
Your land gone, and your credit not worth a token,  
You grew the common borrower, no man scaped  
Your paper-pellets, from the Gentleman  
To the beggars on high ways, that sold you switches  
In your gallantry.  Welborne. 
I shall switch your brains out.  Tapwell. 
Where poor Tim Tapwell with a little stock  
Some forty pounds or so, bought a small cottage,  
Humbled myself to marriage with my Froth here;  
Gave entertainment.  Welborne. 
Yes, to whores, and canters,  
Clubbers by night.  Tapwell. 
True, but they brought in profit,  
And had a gift to pay for what they called for,  
And stuck not like your mastership. The poor Income  
I gleaned from them, hath made me in my parish,  
Thought worthy to be scavenger, and in time  
May rise to be Overseer of the poor;  
Which if I do, on your petition Welborne,  
I may allow you thirteen pence a quarter,  
And you shall thank my worship.  Welborne. 
Thus you dogbolt,  
And thus.  beats, and kicks him. Tapwell. 
Cry out for help.  Welborne. 
Stir and thou diest:  
Your potent Prince the Constable shall not save you.  
Hear me ungrateful hellhound; did not I  
Make purses for you? Then you licked my boots,  
And thought your holy day cloak too course to clean'em.  
'Twas I that when I heard thee swear, if ever  
Thou couldst arrive at forty pounds, thou wouldst  
Live like an Emperor: 'twas I that gave it,  
In ready gold. Deny this, wretch.  Tapwell. 
I must Sir,  
For from the tavern to the taphouse, all  
On forfeiture of their licences stand bound,  
Never to remember who their best guests were,  
If they grew poor like you.  Welborne. 
They are well rewarded  
That beggar themselves to make such cuckolds rich.  
Thou viper thankless viper; impudent bawd!  
But since you are grown forgetful, I will help  
Your memory, and tread thee into mortar:  
Not leave one bone unbroken.  Tapwell. 
Oh.  Froth. 
Ask mercy.  Enter Allworth. Welborne. 
I will not be granted.  Alworth. 
Hold, for my sake hold.  
Deny me, Frank? they are not worth your anger.  Welborne. 
For once thou hast redeemed them from this sceptre:  His cudgel. 

But let'em vanish, creeping on their knees,  
And if they grumble, I revoke my pardon.   Froth. 
This comes of your prating husband, you presumed  
On your ambling wit, and must use your glib tongue  
Though you are beaten lame for't.  Tapwell. 
Patience Froth.  
There's law to cure our bruises.  They go off on their hands, and knees. Welborne. 
Sent to your mother?  Alworth. 
My Lady, Frank, my patroness! my all!  
she's such a mourner for my father's death,  
And in her love to him, so favours me,  
That I cannot pay too much observance to her.  
There are few such stepdames.  Welborne. 
'Tis a noble widow,  
And keeps her reputation pure, and clear  
From the least taint of infamy; her life  
With the splendour of her actions leaves no tongue  
To Envy, or Detraction. Prithee tell me;  
Has she no suitors?  Alworth. 
even the best of the shire, Frank,  
My Lord excepted. Such as sue, and send,  
And send, and sue again, but to no purpose.  
Their frequent visits have not gained her presence;  
Yet she's so far from sullenness, and pride,  
That I dare undertake you shall meet from her  
A liberal entertainment. I can give you  
A catalogue of her suitors names.  Welborne. 
Forbear it,  
While I give you good counsel. I am bound to it;  
Thy father was my friend, and that affection  
I bore to him, in right descends to thee;  
Thou art a handsome, and a hopeful youth,  
Nor will I have the least affront stick on thee,  
If I with any danger can prevent it.  Alworth. 
I thank your noble care, but pray you in what?  
Do I run the hazard?  Wellborne. 
Art thou not in love?  
Put it not off with wonder.  Allworth. 
In love at my years?  Welborne. 
You think you walk in clouds, but are transrent,  
I have heard all, and the choice that you have made;  
And with my finger can point out the North star,  
By which the loadstone of your folly's guided.  
And to confirm this true, what think you of  
Fair Margaret the only child, and heir  
Of Cormorant Overreach? does it blush? and start,  
To hear her only named? blush at your want  
Of wit, and reason.  Alworth. 
You are too bitter Sir.  Welborne. 
Wounds of this nature are not to be cured  
With balms, but corrosives. I must be plain:  
Art thou scarce manumised from the porters lodge,  
And yet sworn servant to the pantofle,  
And dar'st thou dream of marriage? I fear  
'Twill be concluded for impossible,  
That there is now, nor ere shall be hereafter,  
A handsome page, or player's boy of fourteen,  
But either loves a Wench, or drabs love him;  
Court-waiters not exempted.  Alworth. 
This is madness.  
howe'er you have discovered my intents,  
You know my aims are lawful, and if ever  
The Queen of flowers, the glory of the spring,  
The sweetest comfort to our smell, the rose  
Sprang from an envious brier, I may infer  
There's such disparity in their conditions,  
Between the goddess of my soul, the daughter,  
And the base churl her father.  Welborne. 
Grant this true  
As I believe it; canst thou ever hope  
To enjoy a quiet bed with her, whose father  
Ruined thy state?  Alworth. 
And yours too.  Welborne. 
I confess it.  
True I must tell you as a friend, and freely,  
That where impossibilities are apparent,  
'Tis indiscretion to nourish hopes.  
Canst thou imagine, (let not self-love blind thee)  
That Sir Giles Overreach, that to make her great  
In swelling titles, without touch of conscience,  
Will cut his neighbour's throat, and I hope his own too;  
Will ere consent to make her thine? Give o'er  
And think of some course suitable to thy rank,  
And prosper in it.  Alworth. 
You have well advised me.  
But in the mean time, you that are so studious  
Of my affairs, wholly neglect your own.  
Remember yourself, and in what plight you are.  Welborne. 
No matter, no matter.  Alworth. 
Yes, 'tis much material:  
You know my fortune, and my means, yet something,  
I can spare from myself, to help your wants.  Welborne. 
How's this?  Alworth. 
Nay be not angry. There's eight pieces  
To put you in better fashion.  Welborne. 
Money from thee?  
From a boy? a stipendiary? one that lives  
At the devotion of a stepmother,  
And the uncertain favour of a Lord?  
I'll eat my arms first. howsoe'er blind fortune  
Hath spent the utmost of her malice on me;  
Though I am vomited our of an Alehouse,  
And thus accoutred; know not where to eat,  
Or drink, or sleep, but underneath this Canopy;  
Although I thank thee, I despise thy offer.  
And as I in my madness broke my state,  
Without th'assistance of another's brain,  
In my right wits I'll piece it; at the worst  
Die thus, and be forgotten.  Alworth. 
A strange humour.  Exeunt.  

Actus primi, Scena secunda.  

Order.  
Amble.  
Furnace.  
Watchall.   ORder. 
Set all things right, or as my name is Order,  
And by this staff of office that commands you;  
This chain, and double ruff, Symbols of power;  
whoever misses in high function,  
For one whole week makes forfeiture of his breakfast,  
And privilege in the wine-cellar.  Amble. 
You are merry  
Good Master Steward.  Furnace. 
Let him; I'll be angry.  Amble. 
Why fellow Furnace, 'tis not twelve o'clock yet,  
Nor dinner taking up, then 'tis allowed  
Cooks by their places may be choleric.  Furnace. 
You think you have spoke wisely goodman Amble,  
My lady's go-before.  Order. 
Nay, nay; no wrangling.  Furnace. 
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.  Amble. 
There was no hurt meant.  Furnace. 
I am friends with thee, and yet I will be angry.  Order. 
With whom?  Furnace. 
No matter whom: yet now I think on't  
I am angry with my Lady.  Watchall. 
Heaven forbid, man.  Order. 
What cause has she given thee?  Furnace. 
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, & ne'er took it.  Amble. 
But you had wanted matter there to work on.  Furnace. 
Matter? with fix eggs, and a strike of rye-meal  
I had kept the Town, till doomsday, perhaps longer.  Order. 
But what's this to your pet against my Lady?  Furnace. 
What's this? Marry this, when I am three parts roasted,  
And the fourth part parboiled, to prepare her viands,  
She keeps her chamber, dines with a panada,  
Or water-gruel; my sweat never thought on.  Order. 
But your art is seen in the dining-room.  Furnace. 
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.  Order. 
justice Greedy:  Furnace. 
The same, the same. meat's cast away upon him,  
It never thrives. He holds this Paradox,  
Who eats not well, can ne'er do justice well:  
His stomach's as insatiate as the grave,  
Or strumpets ravenous appetites  Watchall. 
One knocks.  Alworth knocks, and enters. Order. 
Our late young master.  Amble. 
Welcome, Sir.  Furnace. 
Your hand,  
If you have a stomach, a cold bake-meat's ready.  Order. 
His father's picture in little.  Furnace. 
We are all your servants.  Amble. 
In you he lives.  Alworth. 
At once, my thanks to all  
This is yet some comfort. Is my Lady stirring?  Enter the Lady Alworth, Waiting woman, Chambermaid. Order. 
Her presence answer for us.  Lady. 
Sort those silks well?  
I'll take the air alone.  Exeunt Waiting Woman; and Chambermaid. Furnace. 
You air, and air,  
But will you never taste but spoonmeat more?  
To what use serve I?  Lady. 
Prithee be not angry,  
I shall ere long: I'the mean time, there is gold  
To buy thee aprons, and a summer suit.  Furnace. 
I am appeased, and Furnace now grows Cook.  Lady. 
And as I gave directions, if this morning  
I am visited by any, entertain'em  
As heretofore: but say in my excuse  
I am indisposed.  Order. 
I shall, Madam.  Lady. 
Do, and leave me.  
Nay stay you Alworth.  Exeunt Order. Amble, Furnace; Watchall. Alworth. 
I shall gladly grow here,  
To wait on your commands.  Lady. 
So soon turned Courtier.  Alworth 
Stile not that Courtship Madam, which is duty,  
Purchased on your part.  Lady. 
Well, you shall overcome;  
I'll not contend in words. How is it with  
Your noble master?  Alworth. 
Ever like himself;  
No scruple lessened in the full weight of honour,  
He did command me (pardon my presumption)  
As his unworthy deputy to kiss  
Your Ladyships fair hands.  Lady. 
I am honoured in  
His favour to me. Does he hold his purpose  
For the Low-Countreyes?  Alworth. 
Constantly good Madam,  
But he will in person first present his service.  Lad. 
And how approve you of his course? you are yet,  
Like virgin parchment capable of any  
Inscription vicious, or honourable.  
I will not force your will, but leave you free  
To your own election.  Alworth. 
Any form, you please,  
I will put on: but might I make my choice  
With humble Emulation I would follow  
The path my Lord marks to me.  Lady. 
'Tis well answered,  
And I commend your spirit: you had a father  
(Blessed be his memory) that some few hours  
Before the will of heaven took him from me,  
Who did commend you, by the dearest ties  
Of perfect love between us, to my charge:  
And therefore what I speak, you are bound to hear  
With such respect, as if he lived in me,  
He was my husband, and howe'er you are not  
Son of my womb, you may be of my love,  
Provided you deserve it.  Allworth. 
I have found you  
(Most honoured Madam) the best mother to me,  
And with my utmost strengths of care, and service,  
Will labour that you never may repent  
Your bounties showered upon me.  Lady. 
I much hope it.  
These were your father's words. If ere my Son  
Follow the war, tell him it is a school  
Where all the principles tending to honour,  
Are taught if truly followed: But for such  
As repair thither, as a place, in which  
They do presume they may with licence practise  
Their lusts, and riots, they shall never merit  
The noble name of soldiers. To dare boldly  
In a fair cause, and for the country's safety  
To run upon the cannon's mouth undaunted;  
To obey their leaders, and shun mutinies;  
To bear, with patience, the winter's cold,  
And summer's scorching heat, and not to faint  
When plenty of provision fails, with hunger,  
Are the essential parts make up a soldier,  
Not swearing dice, or drinking.  Alworth. 
There's no syllable  
You speak, but is to me an Oracle,  
Which but to doubt, were impious.  Lady. 
To conclude;  
Beware ill company, for often men  
Are like to those with whom they do converse,  
And from one man I warned you, and that's Welborne:  
Not cause he's poor, that rather claims your pity,  
But that he's in his manners so debauched,  
And hath to vicious courses sold himself.  
'Tis true your father loved him, while he was  
Worthy the loving, but if he had lived  
To have seen him as he is, he had cast him off  
As you must do.  Alworth. 
I shall obey in all things.  Lady. 
You follow me to my chamber, you shall have gold  
To furnish you like my son, and still supplied,  
As I hear from you.  Alworth. 
I am still your creature.  Exeunt.  

Actus primi, Scena tertia.  

Overreach.  
Greedy.  
Order.  
Amble.  
Furnace.  
Watchall.  
Marrall.   Greedy. 
Not to be seen?  Ouerreach. 
Still cloistered up? Her reason,  
I hope assures her, though she make herself  
Close prisoner ever for her husband's loss,  
'Twill not recover him.  Order. 
Sir, it is her will,  
Which we that are her servants ought to serve it,  
And not dispute. howe'er, you are nobly welcome,  
And if you please to stay, that you may think so;  
There came not fix days since from Hull, a pipe  
Of rich canary, which shall spend itself  
For my Lady's honour.  Greedy. 
Is it of the right race?  Order. 
Yes, Master Greedy.  Amble. 
How his mouth runs o'er!  Furnace. 
I'll make it run, and run. Save your good worship.  Greedy. 
Honest Master Cook, thy hand, again. How I love thee:  
Are the good dishes still in being? speak boy.  Furnace. 
If you have a mind to feed, there is a chine  
Of beef well seasoned.  Greedy. 
Good!  Furnace. 
A pheasant larded.  Greedy. 
That I might now give thanks for't.  Furnace. 
Other kickshaws.  
Besides there came last might from the forest of Sherwood  
The fattest stag I ever cooked.  Greedy. 
A stag man?  Furnace. 
A stag Sir part of it prepared for dinner,  
And baked in puff-paste.  Greedy. 
Puffepast too, Sir Giles!  
A ponderous chine of beef! a pheasant larded!  
And red deer too Sir Giles, and baked in puff-paste!  
All business set aside; let us give thanks here.  Furnace. 
How the lean skeleton's raped!  Ouerreach. 
You know we cannot.  Marrall. 
Your Worships are to sit on a commission,  
And if you fail to come, you lose the cause.  Greedy. 
Cause me no causes. I'll prove't, for such a dinner  
We may put off a commission: you shall find it  
Henrici decimo quarto.  Ouerreach. 
Fie Master Greedy.  
Will you lose me a thousand pounds for a dinner?  
No more for shame. We must forget the belly,  
When we think of profit.  Greedy. 
Well, you shall o'errule me  
I could e'en cry now. Do you hear master Cook.  
Send but a corner of that immortal pastry,  
And I, in thankfulness, will by your boy  
Send you a brace of three-pences.  Furn. 
Will you be so prodigal?  Enter Welborne. Ouer. 
Remember me to your Lady. Who have we here?  Welb. 
You know me:  Ouer. 
I did once, but now I will not,  
Thou art no blood of mine. avaunt thou beggar,  
If ever thou presume to own me more;  
I'll have thee caged, and whipped.  Greed. 
I'll grant the warrant,  
Think of pie-corner, Furnace.  Exeunt Ouerreach. Greedie. Marrall. Watch. 
Will you out Sir?  
I wonder how you durst creep in.  Ord. 
This is rudeness,  
And saucy impudence.  Amb. 
Cannot you stay  
To be served among your fellows from the basket,  
But you must press in to the hall?  Furn. 
Prithee vanish  
Into some outhouse, thought it be the pigsty,  
My scullion shall come to thee.  Enter Allworth. Welb. 
This is rare:  
Oh here's Tom. Alworth Tom.  Alw. 
We must be strangers,  
Nor would I have you seen here for a million.  Exit Alworth Welb. 
Better, and better. He contemns me too?  Enter Woman and Chambermaid. Wom. 
Foh what a smell's here! what thing's this?  Chamb. 
A creature  
Made out of the privy. Let us hence for love's sake,  
Or I shall swoon.  Wom. 
I begin to faint already.  Exeunt woman, & Chambermaid. Watch. 
Will know your way?  Amb. 
Or shall we teach it you,  
By the head, and shoulders?  Welb. 
No: I will not stir.  
Do you mark, I will not. Let me see the wretch  
That dares attempt to force me. Why you slaves,  
Created only to make legs, and cringe;  
To carry in a dish, and shift a trencher;  
That have not souls only to hope a blessing  
Beyond black jacks, or flagons; you that were borne  
Only to consume meat, and drink, and batten  
Upon reversions: who advances? who  
Shows me the way?  Ord. 
My Lady.  Enter Lady. Woman. Chambermaid. Chamb. 
Here's the Monster.  Wom. 
Sweet Madam, keep your glove to your nose.  Chamb. 
Or let me,  
Fetch some perfumes may be predominant,  
You wrong yourself else.  Welb. 
Madam, my designs  
Bear me to you.  Lad. 
To me?  Welb. 
And though I have met with  
But ragged entertainment from your grooms here,  
I hope from you to receive that noble usage,  
As may become the true friend of your husband,  
And then I shall forget these.  Lady. 
I am amazed,  
To see, and hear this rudeness. Dar'st thou think  
Though sworn, that it can ever find belief,  
That I, who to the best men of this Country,  
Denied my presence since my husband's death,  
Can fall so low, as to change words with thee?  
Thou Son of infamy, forbear my house,  
And know, and keep the distance that's between us,  
Or, though it be against my gentler temper,  
I shall take order you no more shall be  
An eyesore to me.  Welb. 
Scorn me not good Lady;  
But as in form you are Angelical  
Imitate the heavenly natures, and vouchsafe  
At the least awhile to hear me. You will grant  
The blood that runs in this arm, is as noble  
As that which fills your veins; those costly jewels,  
And those rich clothes you wear; your men's observance,  
And women's flattery, are in you no virtues,  
Nor these rags, with my poverty, in me vices.  
You have a fair fame, and I know deserve it,  
Yet Lady I must say in nothing more,  
Than in the pious sorrow you have shown  
For your late noble husband.  Ord. 
How she starts!  Furn. 
And hardly can keep finger from the eye  
To hear him named.  Lady. 
Have you ought else to say?  Welb. 
That husband Madam, was once in his fortune  
Almost as low, as I. Want, debts, and quarrels  
Lay heavy on him: let it not be thought  
A boast in me, though I say, I relieved him.  
'Twas I that gave him fashion; mine the sword  
That did on all occasions second his;  
I brought him on, and off with honour, Lady:  
And when in all men's judgements he was sunk,  
And in his own hopes not to be bunged up,  
I stepped unto him, took him by the hand,  
And set him upright.  Furn. 
Are not we base Rogues  
That could forget this?  Welb. 
I confess you made him  
Master of your estate, nor could your friends  
Though he brought no wealth with him, blame you for't.  
For he had a shape, and to that shape a mind  
Made up of all parts, either great, or noble,  
So winning a behaviour, not to be  
Resisted, Madam.  Lad. 
'Tis most true, He had.  Welb. 
For his sake then, in that I was his friend,  
Do not contemn me.  Lad. 
For what's past, excuse me,  
I will redeem it. Order give the Gentleman  
A hundred pounds.  Welb. 
No Madam, on no terms:  
I will nor beg, nor borrow six pence of you,  
But be supplied elsewhere, or want thus ever.  
Only one suit I make, which you deny not  
To strangers: and 'tis this.  Whispers to her. Lad. 
Fie, nothing else?  Welb. 
Nothing; unless you please to charge your servants,  
To throw away a little respect upon me.  Lad. 
What you demand is yours.  Welb. 
I thank you, Lady.  
Now what can be wrought out of such a suit,  
Is yet in supposition; I have said all,  
When you please you may retire. Nay, all's forgotten,  
And for a lucky Omen to my project,  
Shake hands, and end all quarrels in the cellar.  Ord. 
Agreed, Agreed.  Furn. 
Still merry master Welborne.  Exeunt.   

Actus secundi, Scena prima.  


Overreach.  
Marrall.   OVerreach. 
he's gone I warrant thee; this  
Commission crushed him.  Marrall. 
Your worship have the way out, and ne'er miss  
To squeeze these unthrifts into air: and yet  
The chap-fallen Justice did his part, returning  
For your advantage the Certificate  
Against his conscience, and his knowledge too,  
(With your good favour) to the utter ruin  
Of the poor Farmer.  Ouer. 
'Twas for these good ends  
I made him a justice. He that bribes his belly,  
Is certain to command his soul.  Mar. 
I wonder  
(Still with your licence) why, your Worship having  
The power to put this thin-gut in commission,  
You are not in't yourself?  Ouer. 
Thou art a fool;  
In being out of Office I am out of danger  
Where if I were a justice, besides the trouble,  
I might, or out of wilfulness, or error,  
Run myself finely into a Praemunire,  
And so become a prey to the Informer.  
No, I'll have none of't; 'tis enough I keep  
Greedy at my devotion: so he serve  
My purposes, let him hang, or damn, I care not.  
Friendship is but a word.  Mar. 
You are all wisdom.  Ouer. 
I would be worldly wise, for the other wisdom  
That does prescribe us a well-governed life,  
And to do right to others, as ourselves,  
I value not an Atom.  Mar. 
What course take you  
With your good patience to hedge in the Manor  
Of your neighbour master Frugal? as 'tis said,  
He will nor sell, nor borrow, nor exchange,  
And his land lying in the midst of your many Lordships,  
Is a foul blemish.  Ouer. 
I have thought on't, Marrall,  
And it shall take. I must have all men sellers,  
And I the only Purchaser.  Mar. 
'Tis most fit Sir.  Ouer. 
I'll therefore buy some Cottage near his, Manor,  
Which done, I'll make my men break ope his fences;  
Ride o'er his standing corn, and in the night  
Set fire on his barns; or break his cattles legs.  
These Trespasses draw on Suits, and Suits expenses,  
Which I can spare, but will soon beggar Him.  
When I have harried him thus two, or three year,  
Though he sue in forma pauperis, in spite  
Of all his thrift, and care he'll grow behindhand.  Mar. 
The best I ever heard; I could adore you.  Ouer. 
Then with the favour of my man of Law,  
I will pretend some title: Want will force him  
To put it to arbitrement: then if he sell  
For half the value, he shall have ready money,  
And I possess his land.  Mar. 
'Tis above wonder!  
Welborne was apt to sell, and needed not  
These fine arts Sir to hook him in.  Ouer. 
Well thought on.  
This varlet Marrall lives too long, to upbraid me  
With my close cheat put upon him. Will nor cold,  
Nor hunger kill him?  Mar. 
I know not what to think on't.  
I have used all means, and the last night I caused  
His host the Tapster to turn him out of doors;  
And have been since with all your friends, and tenants,  
And on the forfeit of your favour charged him,  
Though a crust of mouldy bread would keep him fró starving  
Yet they should not relieve him. This is done, Sir.  Ouer. 
That was something, Marrall, but thou must go further,  
And suddenly Marrall.  Mar. 
Where, and when you please Sir.  Ouer. 
I would have thee seek him out, and if thou canst  
Persuade him that 'tis better steal, than beg.  
Then if I prove he has but robbed a hen-roost,  
Not all the world shall save him from the gallows.  
Do any thing to work him to despair,  
And 'tis thy masterpiece.  Mar. 
I will do my best, Sir.  Ouer. 
I am now on my main work with the Lord Lovell,  
The gallant minded, popular Lord Lovell;  
The minion of the people's love. I hear  
he's come into the Country, and my aims are  
To insinuate myself into his knowledge,  
And then invite him to my house.  Mar. 
I have you.  
This points at my young Mistress.  Ouer. 
She must part with  
That humble title, and write honourable,  
Right honourable Marrall, my right honourable daughter;  
If all I have, or e'er shall get will do it.  
I will have her well attended, there are Ladies  
Of errant Knights decayed, and brought so low,  
That for cast clothes, and meat, will gladly serve her.  
And 'tis my glory, though I come from the City,  
To have their issue, whom I have undone,  
To kneel to mine, as bondslaves.  Mar. 
'Tis fit state, Sir.  Ouer. 
And therefore, I'll not have a Chambermaid  
That ties her shoes, or any meaner office,  
But such whose Fathers were Right worshipful.  
'Tis a rich Man's pride, there having ever been  
More than a feud, a strange Antipathy  
Between us, and true Gentry.  Enter Welborne. Mar. 
See, who's here, Sir.  Ouer. 
Hence monster; Prodigy.  Welb. 
Sir your wife's Nephew,  
She, and my Father tumbled in one belly.  Ouer. 
Avoid my sight, thy breath's infectious, Rogue.  
I shun thee as a Leprosy, or the Plague.  
Come hither Marrall, this is the time to work him.  Mar. 
I warrant you, Sir.  Exit Ouer. Welb. 
By this light I think he's mad.  Mar. 
Mad? had you took compassion on yourself,  
You long since had been mad.  Welb. 
You have took a course  
Between you, and my venerable Uncle,  
To make me so.  Mar. 
The more pale spirited you,  
That would not be instructed. I swear deeply.  Welb. 
By what?  Mar. 
By my Religion.  Welb. 
Thy religion!  
The devil's Creed, but what would you have done?  Mar. 
Had there been but one tree in all the Shire,  
Nor any hope to compass a penny Halter,  
Before, like you, I had outlived my fortunes,  
A With had served my turn to hang myself.  
I am zealous in your cause: pray you hang yourself,  
And presently, as you love your credit.  Welb. 
I thank you.  Mar. 
Will you stay till you die in a ditch? Or louse devour you?  
Or if you dare not do the feat yourself,  
But that you'll put the state to charge, and trouble,  
Is there no purse to be cut? house to be broken?  
Or market Women with eggs that you may murder,  
And so dispatch the business.  Welb. 
here's variety  
I must confess; but I'll accept of none  
Of all your gentle offers, I assure you.  Mar. 
Why, have you hope ever to eat again?  
Or drink? Or be the master of three farthings?  
If you like not hanging, drown yourself, take some course  
For your reputation.  Welb. 
'Twill not do; dear tempter,  
With all the Rhetoric the fiend hath taught you.  
I am as far as thou art from despair,  
Nay, I have Confidence, which is more than Hope,  
To live, and suddenly better than ever.  Mar. 
Ha! Ha! these Castles you build in the air  
Will not persuade me, or to give, or lend  
A token to you.  Welb. 
I'll be more kind to thee.  
Come thou shalt dine with me.  Mar. 
With you.  Welb. 
Nay more, dine gratis,  Mar. 
Under what hedge I pray you? Or at whose cost?  
Are they Padders? or Abram-men, that are your consorts?  Welb. 
Thou art incredulous, but thou shalt dine  
Not alone at her house, but with a gallant Lady,  
With me, and with a Lady.  Mar. 
Lady! what Lady?  
With the Lady of the Lake, or Queen of Fairies?  
For I know, it must be an enchanted dinner.  Welb. 
With the Lady Alworth, knave.  Mar. 
Nay, now there's hope  
Thy brain is cracked.  Welb. 
Mark there, with what respect  
I am entertained.  Mar. 
With choice no doubt of dogwhips.  
Why dost thou ever hope to pass her Porter?  Welb. 
'Tis not far off, go with me: trust thine own eyes  Mar. 
Troth in my hope, or my assurance rather  
To see thee curvet, and mount like a Dog in a blanket  
If ever thou presume to pass her threshold,  
I will endure thy company.  Welb. 
Come along then.  Exeunt.  

Actus secundi, Scena secunda.  

Alworth.  
Waiting-woman.  
Chambermaid.  
Order.  
Amble.  
Furnace.  
Watchall.   WOman. 
Could you not command your leisure one hour longer?  Chamberm. 
Or half an hour?  Alw. 
I have told you what my haste is:  
Besides being now another's, not mine own,  
howe'er I much desire to enjoy you longer,  
My duty suffers, if to please myself  
I should neglect my Lord.  Wom. 
Pray you do me the favour  
To put these few Quince-cakes into your pocket,  
They are of mine own preserving.  Chamb. 
And this marmalade;  
'Tis comfortable for your stomach,  Wom. 
And at parting  
Excuse me if I beg a farewell from you.  Chamb. 
You are still before me. I move the same suit  
Sir.  Kiss 'em severally. Furn. 
How greedy these Chamberers are of a beardless chin!  
I thin the Titts will ravish him.  Alw. 
My service  
To both.  Wom. 
Ours waits on you.  Chamb. 
And shall do ever.  Ord. 
You are my Lady's charge, be therefore careful  
That you sustain your parts.  Wom. 
We can bear I warrant you.  Exeunt Woman and Chambermaid. Furn. 
Here; drink it off, the ingredients are cordial,  
And this the true Elixir; It hath boiled  
Since midnight for you. 'Tis the Quintessence  
Of five Cocks of the game, ten dozen of Sparrows,  
knuckles of veal, Potato roots, and Marrow;  
coral, and Ambergris: were you two years elder,  
And I had a Wife, or gamesome 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 tomorrow morning.  Alw. 
Your courtesies overwhelm me: I much grieve  
To part from such true friends, and yet find comfort;  
My attendance on my honourable Lord  
(Whose resolution holds to visit my Lady)  
Will speedily bring me back.  Knocking at the gate; Marrall and Welborne within. Mar. 
Dar'st thou venture further?  Welb. 
Yes, yes, and knock again.  Ord. 
'Tis he; disperse.  Amb. 
Perform it bravely.  Furn. 
I know my Cue, ne'er doubt me.  They go off several ways. Watch. 
Beast that I was to make you stay: most welcome,  
You were long since expected.  Welb. 
Say so much  
To my friend I pray you.  Watch. 
For your sake I will Sir.  Mar. 
For his sake!  Welb. 
Mum; this is nothing.  Mar. 
More than ever,  
I would have believed though I had found it in my Primer.  Alw. 
When I have given you reasons for my late harshness,  
You'll pardon, and excuse me: for, believe me  
Though now I part abruptly, in my service  
I will deserve it.  Mar. 
Service! with a vengeance!  Welb. 
I am satisfied: farewell Tom.  Alw. 
All joy stay with you.  Exit Alw. Enter Amble. Amb. 
You are happily encountered: I yet never  
Presented one so welcome, as I know  
You will be to my Lady.  Mar. 
This is some vision;  
Or sure these men are mad, to worship a Dunghill;  
It cannot be a truth.  Welb. 
Be still a Pagan,  
An unbelieving Infidel, be so Miscreant,  
And meditate on blankets, and on dogwhips.  Enter Furnace. Furn. 
I am glad you are come, until I know your pleasure.  
I knew not how to serve up my Lady's dinner.  Mar. 
His pleasure; is it possible?  Welb. 
What's thy will?  Furn. 
Marry Sir, I have some grouse, 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.  Mar. 
The devil's entered this cook, sauce for his palate!  
That on my knowledge, for almost this twelvemonth,  
Durst wish but cheeseparings, and brown bread on Sundays.  Welb. 
That way I like 'em best.  Furn. 
It shall be done Sir.  Exit Furnace. Welb. 
What think you of the hedge we shall dine under?  
Shall we feed gratis?  Mar. 
I know not what to think;  
Pray you make me not mad.  Enter Order. Ord. 
This place becomes you not;  
Pray you walk Sir, to the dining room.  Welb. 
I am well here  
Till her Ladyship quits her chamber.  Mar. 
Well here say you?  
'Tis a rare change! but yesterday you thought  
yourself well in a barn, wrapped up in Peas-straw.  Enter Woman, and Chambermaid. Wom. 
O Sir, you are wished for.  Chamb. 
My Lady dreamt Sir of you.  Wom. 
And the first command she gave, after she rose  
Was (her devotions done) to give her notice  
When you approached here.  Chamb. 
Which is done on my virtue.  Mar. 
I shall be converted, I begin to grow  
Into a new belief, which Saints, nor Angels  
Could have won me to have faith in.  Wom. 
Sir, my Lady.  Enter Lady. Lady. 
I come to meet you, and languished till I saw you.  
This first kiss is for form; I allow a second  
To such a friend.  Mar. 
To such a friend! Heaven bless me!  Welb. 
I am wholly yours, yet Madam, if you please  
To grace this Gentleman with a salute.  Mar. 
Salute me at his bidding.  Welb. 
I shall receive it  
As a most high favour.  Lady. 
Sir, you may command me.  Welb. 
Run backward from a Lady? and such a Lady?  Mar. 
To kiss her foot is too poor, me a favour;  
I am unworthy of  (Offers to kiss her foot. Lady. 
Nay, pray you rise,  
And since you are so humble, I'll exalt you  
You shall dine with me today, at mine own table.  Mar. 
Your ladyship's table? I am not good enough  
To sit at your Steward's board.  Lady. 
You are too modest:  
I will not be denied.  Enter Furnace. Furn. 
Will you still be babbling;  
Till your meat freeze on the table? the old trick still.  
My Art ne'er thought on.  Lady. 
Your arm, Master Welborne:  
Nay keep us company.  Mar. 
I was never so graced.  Exeunt Welborne. Lady. Amble. Marrall. Woman. Order. 
So we have played our parts, and are come off well.  
But if I know the mystery why my Lady  
Consented to it, or why Master Welborne  
Desired it, may I perish.  Furn. 
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 griping, and extorting tyrants  
I ever heard, or read of, I ne'er met  
A match to Sir Giles Overreach.  Watch. 
What will you take  
To tell him so fellow Furnace?  Furn. 
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 Lordships.  Ord. 
He frights men out of their Estates,  
And breaks through all law-nets, made to curb ill men,  
As they were cobwebs. No man dares reprove him.  
Such a spirit to dare, and power to do, were never  
Lodged so unluckily.  Amb. 
Ha, ha; I shall burst.  Enter Amble. Ord. 
Contain thyself man.  Furn. 
Or make us partakers  
Of your sudden mirth.  Amb. 
Ha, ha, my Lady has got  
Such a guest at her table, this term-driver Marrall,  
This swipe of an attorney.  Furn. 
What of him man?  Amb. 
The knave thinks still he's at the cook's shop in Ram-Alley,  
Where the Clerks divide, and the Elder is to choose;  
And feeds so slovenly.  Furn. 
Is this all?  Amb. 
My Lady  
Drank to him for fashion sake, or to please master Welborne.  
As I live he rises, and takes up a dish,  
In which there were some remnants of a boiled capon,  
And pledges her in white-broth.  Furn. 
Nay, 'tis like,  
The rest of his tribe.  Amb. 
And when I brought him wine,  
He leaves his stool, and after a leg or two  
Most humbly thanks my worship.  Ord. 
Rose already.  Amb. 
I shall be chid.  Enter Lady. Welborne. Marrall. Furn. 
My Lady frowns.  Lady. 
You wait well.  
Let me have no more of this, I observed your icering.  
Sirrah, I'll have you know, whom I think worthy  
To sit at my table, be he ne'er so mean,  
When I am present, is not your companion.  Ord. 
Nay she'll preserve what's due to her.  Furn. 
This refreshing  
Follows your flux of laughter.  Lady. 
You are master.  
Of your own will. I know so much of manners  
As not to inquire your purposes, in a word  
To me you are ever welcome, as to a house  
That is your own.  Velb. 
Mark that.  Mar. 
With reverence Sir,  
And it like your Worship.  Welb. 
Trouble yourself no farther;  
Dear Madam; my heart's full of zeal, and service,  
however in my language I am sparing.  
Come master Marrall.  Mar. 
I attend your Worship.  Exeunt Welb. Mar. Lad. 
I see in your looks you are sorry, and you know me  
An easy mistress: be merry; I have forgot all.  
Order, and Furnace come with me, I must give you  
Further directions.  Ord. 
What you please.  Furn. 
We are ready.   

Actus secundi, Scena tertia.  

Welborne.  
Marrall.   WElborne. 
I think I am in a good way.  Marrall. 
Good Sir; the best way.  
The certain best way.  Welb. 
There are casualties  
That men are subject too.  Mar. 
You are above'em,  
And as you are already Worshipful,  
I hope ere long you will increase in Worship,  
And be Right worshipful.  Welb. 
Prithee do not flout me.  
What I shall be, I shall be. Is't for your ease,  
You keep your hat off?  Mar. 
Ease, and it like your Worship?  
I hope Jack Marrall shall not live so long,  
To prove himself such an unmannerly beast,  
Though it hail hazel Nuts, as to be covered  
When your worship's present.  Welb. 
Is not this a true Rogue? aside.  
That out of mere hope of a future cozenage  
Can turn thus suddenly: 'tis rank already.  Mar. 
I know your worship's wise, and needs no counsel:  
Yet if in my desire to do you service,  
I humbly offer my advice, (but still  
Under correction) I hope I shall not  
Incur your high displeasure.  Welb. 
No; speak freely.  Mar. 
Then in my judgement Sir, my simple judgement,  
(Still with your whorship's favour) I could wish you  
A better habit, for this cannot be,  
But much distasteful to the noble Lady.  
(I say no more) that loves you, for this morning  
To me (and I am but a Swine to her)  
Before th'assurance of her wealth perfumed you;  
You savoured not of amber.  Welb, 
I do now then?  Kisses the end of his cudgel, Mar. 
This your Battoon hath got a touch of it.  
Yet if you please for change I have twenty pounds here  
Which, out of my true love I presently  
Lay down at your whorship's feet: 'twill serve to buy you  
A riding suit.  Welb. 
But where's the horse?  Mar. 
My Gelding  
Is at your service: nay, you shall ride me  
Before your Worship shall be put to the trouble  
To walk a foot. Alas, when you are Lord  
Of this lady's manor (as I know you will be)  
You may with the lease of glebe land, called knaves-acre,  
A place I would manure, requite your vassal.  Welb. 
I thank thy love: but must make no use of it,  
What's twenty pounds?  Mar. 
'Tis all that I can make, Sir.  Welb. 
Dost thou think though I want clothes I could not have 'em,  
For one word to my Lady?  Mar. 
As I know not that.  Welb. 
Come I'll tell thee a secret, and so leave thee.  
I'll not give her the advantage, though she be  
A gallant minded Lady, after we are married  
(There being no woman, but is sometimes froward)  
To hit me in the teeth, and say she was forced  
To buy my wedding clothes, and took me on  
With a plain riding-suit, and an ambling Nag.  
No, I'll be furnished something like myself.  
And so farewell; for thy suit touching knave's acre.  
When it is mine 'tis thine.  Mar. 
I thank your Worship. Exit Welb.  
How was cozened in the calculation  
Of this man's fortune, my master cozened too  
Whose pupil I am in the art of undoing men,  
For that is our profession; well, well, master Welborne  
You are of a sweet nature, and fit again to be cheated:  
Which, if the fates please, when you are possessed  
Of the land, and Lady, you sans question shall be.  
I'll presently think of the means.  Walk by mafing, Enter Ouerreach. Ouer. 
Sirrah, take my horse.  
I'll walk to get me an appetite? 'tis but a mile,  
And Exercise will keep me, from being pursy.  
Ha! Marrall! is he conjuring! perhaps  
The knave has wrought the prodigal to do  
Some outrage on himself, and now he feels  
Compunction in his conscience for't: no matter  
So it be done, Marrall.  Marrall. 
Sir,  Ouer. 
How succeed we  
In our plot on Welborne?  Mar. 
Never better Sir.  Ouer. 
Has he hanged, or drowned himself?  Mar. 
No Sir, he lives.  
Lives once more to be made a prey to you,  
A greater prey than ever.  Ouer. 
Art thou in thy wits?  
If thou art reveal this miracle, and briefly.  Mar. 
A Lady Sir, is fall'n in love with him.  Ouer. 
With him? what Lady?  Mar. 
The rich Lady Alworth.  Ouer. 
Thou Dolt; how dar'st thou speak this?  Mar. 
I speak truth;  
And I do so but once a year, unless  
It be to you Sir, we dined with her Ladyship,  
I thank his Worship.  Ouer. 
His Worship!  Mar. 
As I live Sir;  
I dined with him, at the great Lady's table,  
Simple as I stand here, and saw when, she kissed him,  
And would at his request, have kissed me too,  
But I was not so audacious, as some Youths are,  
And dare do any thing be it ne'er so absurd,  
And sad after performance.  Ouer. 
Why thou Rascal,  
To tell me these impossibilities:  
Dine, at her table? and kiss him? or thee?  
Impudent Varlet. Have not I myself  
To whom great countess's doors have oft flew open,  
Ten times attempted, since her husband's death  
In vain to see her, though I came--- a suitor;  
And yet your good Solicitor-ship, and rogue---- Welborne,  
Were brought into her presence, feasted with her.  
But that I know thee a Dog, that cannot blush  
This most incredible lie would call up one  
On thy buttermilk cheeks.  Mar. 
Shall I not trust my eyes Sir?  
Or taste? I feel her good cheer in my belly.  Ouer. 
You shall feel me, if you give not over Sirrah,  
Recover your brains again, and be no more gulled  
With a beggar's plot assisted by the aids  
Of serving men, and chambermaids; for beyond these  
Thou never sawst a Woman, or I'll quit you  
From my employments.  Mar. 
Will you credit this yet?  
On my confidence of their marriage I offered Welborne  
(I would give a crown now, I durst say his worship)--- aside  
My nag, and twenty pounds.  Ouer. 
Did you so I do? Strikes him down  
Was this the way to work him to despair  
Or rather to cross me?  Mar. 
Will your worship kill me?  Ouer. 
No, no; but drive the lying spirit out of you.  Mar. 
he's gone.  Ouer. 
I have done then: now forgetting,  
Your late imaginary feast, and Lady.  
Know my Lord Lovell dines with me tomorrow,  
Be careful nought, be wanting to receive him,  
And bid my daughter's women trim her up,  
Though they paint her, so she catch the Lord, I'll thank 'em,  
There's a piece for my late blows.  Mar. 
I must yet suffer:  
But there may be a time.---- aside.  Ouer. 
Do you grumble?  Mar. 
No Sir.    

Actus tertii, Scena prima.  


Lovell.  
Alworth.  
servants.   LOuell. 
Walk the horses down the hill: something in private,  
I must impart to Alworth.  Exeunt serui. Alw. 
O my Lord,  
What sacrifice of reverence, duty watching;  
Although I could put off the use of sleep,  
And ever wait on your commands serve 'em;  
What dangers, though in ne'er so horrid shapes,  
Nay death itself, though I should run to meet it,  
Can I, and with a thankful willingness suffer;  
But still the retribution will fall short  
Of your bounties showered upon me.  Lou. 
Loving Youth;  
Till what I purpose be put into act,  
Do not o'erprize it, since you have trusted me  
With your souls nearest, nay her dearest secret,  
Rest confident 'tis in a cabinet locked,  
Treachery shall never open, I have found you  
(For so much to your face I must profess,  
How ere you guard your modesty with a blush for't)  
More zealous in your love, and service to me  
Than I have been in my rewards.  Alw. 
Still great ones  
Above my merit.  Lou. 
Such your Gratitude calls 'em:  
Nor am I of that harsh, and rugged temper  
As some Great men are taxed, with who imagine  
They part from the respect due to their Honours,  
If they use not all such as follow 'em,  
Without distinction of their births, like slaves.  
I am not so conditioned: I can make  
A fitting difference between my Footboy,  
And a Gentleman, by want compelled to serve me.  Alw. 
'Tis thankfully acknowledged: you have been  
More like a Father to me than a Master.  
Pray you pardon the comparison.  Lou. 
I allow it;  
And to give you assurance I am pleased in't,  
My carriage and demeanour to your Mistress  
Fair Margaret, shall truly witness for me  
I can command my passions.  Alw. 
'Tis a conquest  
Few Lords can boast of when they are tempted. Oh!  Lou. 
Why do you sigh? can you be doubtful of me?  
By that fair name, I in the wars have purchased,  
And all my actions hitherto untainted,  
I will not be more true to mine own Honour,  
Than to my Alworth.  Alw. 
As you are the brave Lord Lovell,  
Your bare word only given, is an assurance  
Of more validity, and weight to me  
Than all the oaths bound up with imprecations,  
Which when they would deceive, most Courtiers practice:  
Yet being a man (for sure to style you more  
Would relish of gross flattery) I am forced  
Against my confidence of your worth, and virtues,  
To doubt, nay more to fear.  Lou. 
So young, and jealous?  Alw. 
Were you to encounter with a single foe,  
The victory were certain: but to stand  
The charge of two such potent enemies,  
At once assaulting you, as Wealth and Beauty,  
And those too seconded with Power, is odds  
Too great for Hercules.  Lou. 
Speak your doubts, and fears,  
Since you will nourish 'em in plainer language,  
That I may understand 'em.  Alw. 
What's your will;  
Though I lend arms against my self, (provided  
They may advantage you) must be obeyed.  
My much loved Lord, were Margaret only fair,  
The cannon of her more than earthly form,  
Though mounted high, commanding all beneath it,  
And rammed with bullets of her sparkling eyes,  
Of all the bulwarks that defend your senses  
Could batter more, but that which guards your sight.  
But when the well tuned accents of her tongue  
Make music to you, and with numerous sounds  
Assault your hearing (such as if Ulysses  
Now lived again, howe'er he stood the Sirens,  
Could not resist) the combat must grow doubtful,  
Between your Reason, and rebellious Passions.  
Add this too; when you feel her touch, and breath,  
Like a soft Western wind, when it glides o'er  
Arabia, creating gums, and spices:  
And in the Van, the Nectar of her lips  
Which you must taste, bring the battalia on,  
Well armed, and strongly lived with her discourse,  
And knowing manners, to give entertainment,  
Hippolytus himself would leave Diana,  
To follow such a Venus.  Lou. 
Love hath made you  
Poetical, Alworth.  Alw. 
Grant all these beat off,  
Which if it be in man to do, you'll do it;  
Mammon in Sir Giles Overreach steps in  
With heaps of ill got gold, and so much land,  
To make her more remarkable, as would tire  
A falcon's wings in one day to fly over.  
O my good Lord, these powerful aids, which would  
Make a misshapen Negro beautiful,  
(Yet are but ornaments to give her lustre,  
That in herself is all perfection) must  
Prevail for her. I here release your trust.  
'Tis happiness, enough, for me to serve you,  
And sometimes with chaste eyes to look upon her.  Lou. 
Why shall I swear?  Alw. 
O by no means my Lord;  
And wrong not so your judgement to the world  
As from your fond indulgence to a boy,  
Your page, your servant, to refuse a blessing  
divers Great men are rivals for.  Lou. 
Suspend  
Your judgement till the trial. How far is it  
'T Overreach house?  Alw. 
At the most some half hour's riding;  
You'll soon be there.  Eou. 
And you the sooner freed  
From your jealous fears.  Alw. 
O that I durst but hope it.  Exeunt.  

Actus tertii, Scena secunda.  

Overreach.  
Greedy. Marrall.   Overreach 
Spare for no cost, let my Dressers crack with the weight  
Of curious viands.  Greedy. 
Store indeed's no sore, Sir.  Ouer. 
That proverb fits your stomach  
Master Greedy.  
And let no plate be seen, but what's pure gold,  
Or such whose workmanship exceeds the matter  
That it is made of, let my choicest linen  
Perfume the room, and when we wash the water  
With precious powders mixed, so please my Lord,  
That he may with envy wish to bathe soever.  Mar. 
'Twill be very chargeable.  Ouer. 
avaunt you Drudge:  
Now all my laboured ends are at the stake,  
is't a time to think of thrift? call in my daughter,  
And master. Justice, since you love choice dishes,  
And plenty of 'em.  Greed. 
As I do indeed Sir,  
Almost as much as to give thanks for 'em.  Ouer. 
I do confer that providence, with my power  
Of absolute command to have abundance,  
To your best care.  Greed. 
I'll punctually discharge it  
And give the best directions. Now am I  
In mine own conceit a Monarch, at the least  
Arch-president of the boiled, the roast, the baked,  
For which I will eat often, and give thanks,  
When my bellies braced up like a drum, and that's pure justice.  Ouer. 
I must be so: should the foolish girl prove modest. Exit Greedie.  
She may spoil all, she had it not from me,  
But from her mother, I was ever forward,  
As she must be, and therefore I'll prepare her.  
Alone, and let your women wait without. Margaret.  Marg. 
Your pleasure Sir?  Ouer. 
Ha, this is a neat dressing!  
These orient pearls, and diamonds well placed too!  
The Gown affects me not, it should have been  
Embroidered o'er, and o'er with flowers of gold,  
But these rich jewels, and quaint fashion help it.  
And how below? since oft the wanton eye  
The face observed, descends unto the foot;  
Which being well proportioned, as yours is,  
Invites as much as perfect white, and red,  
Though without art, how like you, your new Woman  
The Lady Downefalne?  Marg. 
Well for a companion;  
Not as a servant.  Ouer. 
Is she humble Meg?  
And careful too; her Ladyship forgotten?  Marg. 
I pity her fortune.  Ouer. 
Pity her? Trample on her.  
I took her up in an old tamin gown,  
(Even starved for want of two penny chops) to serve thee:  
And if I understand, she but repines  
To do thee any duty, though ne'er so servile,  
I'll pack her to her Knight, where I have lodged him,  
Into the Counter, and there let 'em howl together.  Marg. 
You know your own ways, but for me I blush  
When I command her, that was once attended  
With persons, not inferior to myself  
In birth.  Ouer. 
In birth? Why art thou not my daughter?  
The blessed child of my industry, and wealth?  
Why foolish girl, wa''t not to make thee great,  
That I have run, and still pursue those ways  
That hale down curses on me, which I mind not,  
Part with these humble thoughts, and apt thyself  
To the noble state I labour to advance thee,  
Or by my hopes to see thee honourable,  
I will adopt a stranger to my heir,  
And throw thee from my care, do not provoke me.  Marg. 
I will not Sir; mould me which way you please.  Ouer. 
How interrupted?  Enter Greedie. Greed. 
'Tis matter of importance.  
The cook Sir is self-willed and will not learn  
From my experience, there's a fawn borough in Sir,  
And for my life I cannot make him roast it,  
With a Norfolk dumpling in the belly of it.  
And Sir, we wisemen know, without the dumpling  
'Tis not worth three pence,  Ouer. 
Would it were whole in thy belly  
To stuff it out; Cook it any way, prithee leave me  Greed. 
Without order for the dumpling?  Ouer. 
Let it be dumpled  
Which way thou wilt, or tell him I will scald him  
In his own cauldron.  Greed. 
I had lost my stomach,  
Had I lost my mistress dumpling, I'll give thanks for.  Ouer. 
But to our business Meg, you have heard who dines here?  Exit Greedie. Marg. 
I have Sir.  Ouer. 
'Tis an honourable man,  
A Lord, Megge, and commands a regiment  
Of Soldiers, and what's rare is one himself;  
A bold, and understanding one; and to be  
A Lord, and a good leader in one volume,  
Is granted unto few, but such as rise up  
The kingdom's glory.  Enter Greedie. Greed. 
I'll resign my office,  
If I be not better obeyed.  Ouer. 
'slight, art thou frantic?  Greed. 
Frantic 'twould make me a frantic, and stark-mad,  
Were I not a justice of peace, and coram too,  
Which this rebellious Cook cares not a straw for.  
There are a dozen of Woodcocks.  Ouer. 
Make thyself  
thirteen, the bakers dozen.  Greed. 
I am contented  
So they may be dressed to my mind, he has found out  
A new device for sauce, and will not dish 'em  
With toasts, and butter, my Father was a tailor,  
And my name though a justice, Greedy Woodcock,  
And ere I'll see my lineage so abused,  
I'll give up my commission.  Ouer. 
Cooke, Rogue obey him.  
I have given the word, pray you now remove yourself,  
To a collar of brawn, and trouble me no farther.  Greed. 
I will, and meditate what to eat at dinner.  Exit Greedie. Ouer. 
And as I said Meg, when this gull disturbed us;  
This honourable Lord, this Colonel  
I would have thy husband.  Mar. 
There's too much disparity  
Between his quality, and mine to hope it.  Ouer. 
I more than hope't, and doubt not to effect it,  
Be thou no enemy to thyself, my wealth  
Shall weigh his titles down, and make you equals.  
Now for the means to assure him thine; observe me;  
Remember he's a Courtier, and a Soldier  
And not to be trifled with, and therefore when  
He comes to woe you, see you, do not coy it.  
This mincing modesty hath spoiled many a match  
By a first refusal, in vain after hoped for.  Mar. 
You'll have me Sir, preserve the distance, that  
Confines a Virgin?  Ouer. 
Virgin me no Virgins.  
I must have you lose that name, or you lose me,  
I will have you private, start not, I say private,  
If thou art my true daughter, not a bastard  
Thou wilt venture alone with one man, though he came  
Like jupiter to Semele, and come off too.  
And therefore when he kisses you, kiss close.  Marg. 
I have heard this is the strumpets fashion Sir,  
Which I must never learn.  Ouer. 
Learn any thing,  
And from any creature that may make thee great;  
From the Devil himself.  Marg. 
This is but Devilish doctrine.  Ouer. 
Or if his blood grow hot, suppose he offer  
Beyond this, do not you stay till it cool,  
But meet his ardour, if a couch be near,  
Sit down on't, and invite him.  Marg. 
In your house?  
Your own house Sir, for heaven's sake, what are you then?  
Or what shall I be Sir?  Ouer. 
Stand not on form,  
Words are no substances.  Marg. 
Though you could dispense  
With your own Honour; cast aside Religion,  
The hopes of heaven, or fear of hell; excuse me  
In worldly policy, this is not the way  
To make me his wife, his whore I grant it may do.  
My maiden Honour so soon yielded up,  
Nay prostituted, cannot but assure him  
I that am light to him will not hold weight  
When he is tempted by others: so in judgement  
When to his lust I have given up my honour  
He must, and will forsake me,  Ouer. 
How? forsake thee?  
Do I wear a sword for fashion? or is this arm  
Shrunk up? or withered? does there live a man  
Of that large list I have encountered with.  
Can truly say I e'er gave inch of ground,  
Not purchased with his blood, that did oppose me?  
Forsake thee when the thing is done? he dares not.  
Give me but proof, he has enjoyed thy person,  
Though all his Captains, echoes to his will,  
Stood armed by his side to justify the wrong,  
And he himself in the head of his bold troop,  
Spite of his Lordship, and his colonelship,  
Or the judge's favour, I will make him render  
A bloody and a strict account, and force him  
By marrying thee, to cure thy wounded honour;  
I have said it.  Enter Marrall. Mar. 
Sir, the man of Honours come  
Newly alighted.  Ouer. 
In; without reply  
And do as I command, or thou art lost. Exit Marg.  
Is the loud music I gave order for  
Ready to receive him?  Mar. 
'Tis Sir.  Ouer. 
Let'em sound  
A princely welcome, Roughness a while leave me,  
For fawning now, a stranger to my nature  
Must make way for me.  Loud music. Enter Lovell. Greed. Alw. Mar. Lou. 
Sir, you meet your trouble.  Ouer. 
What you are pleased to style so is an honour  
Above my worth, and fortunes.  Alw. 
Strange, so humble.  Ouer. 
A justice of peace my Lord. Presents Greedy to him.  Lou. 
Your hand good Sir.  Greed. 
This is a Lord; and some think this a favour;  
But I had rather have my hand in my dumpling.  Ouer. 
Room for my Lord.  Lou. 
I miss Sir your fair daughter,  
To crown my welcome.  Ouer. 
May it please my Lord  
To taste a glass of Greek wine first, and suddenly  
She shall attend my Lord.  Lou. 
You'll be obeyed Sir.  Exeunt omnes preter Ouer. Ouer. 
'Tis to my wish; as soon as come ask for her!  
Why, Meg? Megge Overreach. how! tears in your eyes!  
Ha! dry'em quickly, or I'll dig'em out.  
Is this a time to whimper? meet that Greatness  
That flies into thy bosom, think what 'tis  
For me to say, My honourable daughter.  
And thou, when I stand bare, to say put on,  
Or father you forget yourself, no more,  
But be instructed, or expect, he comes.  
A black-browed girl my Lord,  Enter Lovell. Greedie Alworth. Marrall. they salute. Lou. 
As I live a rare one.  Alw. 
he's took already: I am lost.  Ouer. 
That kiss,  
Came twanging off I like it, quit the room: The rest off.  
A little bashful my good Lord, but you  
I hope will teach her boldness.  Lou. 
I am happy  
In such a scholar: but.  Ouer. 
I am past learning.  
And therefore leave you to yourselves: remember--- to his daughter.  Exit Ouerreach. Lou. 
You see fair Lady, your father is solicitous.  
To have you change the barren name of Virgin  
Into a hopeful wife.  Marg. 
He haste my Lord,  
Holds no power o'er my will.  Lou. 
But o'er your duty.  Marg, 
Which forced too much may break.  Lou. 
Bend rather sweetest:  
Think of your years.  Marg. 
Too few to match with yours:  
And choicest fruits too soon plucked, rot, and wither.  Lou. 
Do you think I am old?  Marg. 
I am sure I am too young.  Lou. 
I can advance you.  Marg. 
To a hill of sorrow,  
Where every hour I may expect to fall,  
But never hope firm footing. You are noble,  
I of a low descent, however rich;  
And tissues matched with scarlet suit but ill.  
O my good Lord I could say more, but that  
I dare not trust these walls.  Lou. 
Pray you trust my ear then.  Enter Ouer. listening. Enter Greed. Ouer. 
Close at it! whispering! this is excellent!  
And by their postures, a consent on both parts.  Greed. 
Sir Giles, Sir Giles.  Ouer. 
The great fiend stop that clapper.  Greed. 
It must ring out Sir, when my belly rings noon  
The backed meats are run out, the roast turned powder.  Ouer. 
I shall powder you.  Greed. 
Beat me to dust I care not.  
In such a cause as this, I'll die a martyr.  Ouer. 
Marry and shall: you Barathrum of the shambles. strikes him.  Greed. 
How! strike a Justice of peace? 'tis pett treason.  
Edwardi quinto, but that you are my friend  
I could commit you without bail, or mainprize.  Ouer. 
Leave your balling Sir, or I shall commit you;  
Where you shall not dine today, disturb my Lord,  
When he is in discourse?  Greed. 
is't a time to talk  
When we should be munching?  Lou. 
Ha! I heard some noise.  Ouer. 
Mum, villain, vanish: shall we break a bargain  
Almost made up. Thrust Greedie off.  Lou. 
Lady, I understand you;  
And rest most happy in your choice, believe it,  
I'll be a careful pilot to direct  
Your yet uncertain bark to a port of safety.  Marg. 
So shall your Honour save two lives, and bind us  
Your slaves for ever.  Lou. 
I am in the act rewarded,  
Since it is good, howe'er you must put on  
And amorous carriage towards me, to delude  
Your subtle father.  Marg. 
I am proof to that.  Lon. 
Now break we off our conference. Sir Giles.  
Where is Sir Giles?  Enter Overreach, and the rest. Ouer. 
My noble Lord; and how  
Does your Lordship find her?  Lou. 
Apt Sir Giles, and coming,  
And I like her the better.  Ouer. 
So do I too.  Lou. 
Yet should we take forts at the first assault  
'twere poor in the defendant, I must confirm her  
With a love letter or two, which I must have  
Delivered by my page, and you give way to't.  Ouer. 
With all my soul, a towardly Gentleman,  
Your hand good master Alworth, know my house  
Is ever open to you.  Alw. 
'Twas shut till now. aside.  Ouer. 
Well done, well done, my honourable daughter:  
thouart so already: know this gentle youth,  
And cherish him my honourable daughter.  Mar. 
I shall with my best care. Noise within as of a coach.  Ouer. 
A Coach.  Greed. 
More stops  
Before we go to dinner! o my guts!  Enter Lady, and Welborne. Lad. 
If I find welcome  
You share in it; if not I'll back again,  
Now I know your ends, for I come armed for all  
Can be objected.  Lou. 
How! the Lady Alworth!  Ouer. 
And thus attended!  Mar. 
No, I am a dolt; Lovell salutes the Lady, the Lady salutes Margaret.  
The spirit of lies had entered me.  Ouer. 
Peace Patch,  
'Tis more than wonder! an astonishment  
That does possess me wholly!  Lou. 
Noble Lady,  
This is a favour to prevent my visit,  
The service of my life can never equal.  Lad. 
My Lord, I laid wait for you, and much hoped  
You would have made my poor house your first Inn:  
And therefore doubting that you might forget me,  
Or too long dwell here having such ample cause  
In this unequalled beauty for your stay;  
And fearing to trust any but myself  
With the relation of my service to you,  
I borrowed so much from my long restraint,  
And took the air in person to invite you.  Lou. 
Your bounties are so great they rob me, Madam  
Of words to give you thanks.  Lad. 
Good Sir Giles Overreach. salutes him.  
How dost thou Marrall? liked you my meat so ill,  
You'll dine no more with me?  Greed. 
I will when you please  
And it like your Ladyship.  Lad. 
When you please master Greedy  
If meat can do it, you shall be satisfied,  
And now my Lord, pray take into your knowledge  
This Gentleman, howe'er his outsid's course. Presents Welborne.  
His inward linings are as fine, and fair,  
As any man's: wonder not I speak at large:  
And howsoe'er his humour carries him  
To be thus accoutred; or what taint soever  
For his wild life hath stuck upon his fame,  
He may erelong, with boldness rank himself  
With some that have contemned him. Sir Giles Overreach  
If I am welcome bid him so.  Ouer. 
My nephew.  
He has been too long a stranger: faith you have:  
Pray let it be mended, Lovell conferring with Welborne.  Mar. 
Why Sir, what do you mean?  
This is rogue Welborne, Monster, Prodigy.  
That should hang, or drown himself, no man of Worship,  
Much less your Nephew;  Ouer. 
Well Sirrah, we shall reckon  
For this here after.  Mar. 
I'll not lose my jeer  
Though I be beaten dead for't.  Welb. 
Let my silence plead  
In my excuse my Lord till better leisure  
Offer itself to hear a full relation  
Of my poor fortunes.  Lou. 
I would hear, and help'em.  Ouer. 
Your dinner waits you.  Lou. 
Pray you lead, we follow.  Lad. 
Nay you are my guest, come dear master Welborne.  Exeunt manet Gredie. Greed. 
Dear master Welborne! So she said; Heaven! heaven!  
If my belly would give me leave I could ruminate  
All day on this: I have granted twenty warrants.  
To have him committed from all prisons in the Shire,  
To Nottingham jail; and now dear master Welborne!  
And my good nephew, but I play the fool  
To stand here prating, and forget my dinner.  
Are they set Marrall?  Enter Marrall. Mar. 
Long since, pray you a word Sir.  Greed. 
No wording now.  Mar. 
In troth, I must; my master  
Knowing you are his good friend, makes bold with you,  
And does entreat you, more guests being come in,  
Than he expected, especially his nephew,  
The table being full too, you would excuse him  
And sup with him on the cold meat.  Greed. 
How! no dinner  
After all my care?  Mar. 
'Tis but a penance for  
A meal; beside, you broke your fast.  Greed. 
That was  
But a bit to stay my stomach: a man in Commission  
Give place to a tatterdemalion?  Mar. 
No bug words Sir,  
Should his Worship hear you?  Greed. 
Lose my dumpling too?  
And buttered toasts, and woodcocks?  Mar. 
Come, have patience.  
If you will dispense a little with your Worship,  
And sit with the waiting women, you have dumpling,  
Woodcock, and buttered costs too.  Greed. 
This revives me  
I will gorge there sufficiently.  Mar. 
This is the way Sir.  Exeunt.  

Actus tertii, Scena tertia.  Ouerreach as from dinner. Overreach 
she's caught! O women! she neglects my Lord,  
And all her compliments applied to Welborne!  
The garments of her widowhood laid by,  
She now appears as glorious as the spring,  
Her eyes fixed on him; in the wine she drinks,  
He being her pledge; she sends him burning kisses,  
And sits on thorns, till she be private with him.  
She leaves my meat to feed upon his looks;  
And if in our discourse he be but named  
From her a deep sigh follows, but why grieve I  
At this? it makes for me, if she prove his  
All that is hers is mine, as I will work him.  Enter Marrall. Mar. 
Sir the whole board is troubled at your rising.  Ouer. 
No matter, I'll excuse it, prithee Marrall,  
Watch an occasion to invite my Nephew  
To speak with me in private.  Mar. 
Who? the rogue,  
The Lady scorned to look on?  Ouer. 
You are a Wag  Enter Lady and Welborne. Mar. 
See Sir she's come, and cannot be without him.  Lad. 
With your favour Sir, after a plenteous dinner,  
I shall make bold to walk, a turn, or two  
In your rare garden.  Ouer. 
There's an arbour too  
If your ladyship please to use it  Lad. 
Come master Welborne.  Exeunt Lady and Welborne. Ouer. 
Grosser, and grosser, now I believe the Poet  
Feigned not but was historical, when he wrote.  
Pasiphae was enamoured of a bull,  
This lady's lust's more monstrous. My good Lord,  
Excuse my manners.  Enter Lovell, Margaret and the rest Lou. 
There needs none Sir Giles,  
I may ere long say Father, when it pleases  
My dearest mistress to give warrant to it.  Ouer. 
She shall seal to it my Lord, and make me happy.  Marg. 
My Lady is returned.  Enter Welb. and the Lad, Lad. 
Provide my coach,  
I'll instantly away: my thanks Sir Giles  
For my entertainment.  Ouer. 
'Tis your Nobleness  
To think it such.  Lad. 
I must do you a further wrong  
In taking away your honourable guest.  Lou. 
I wait on you Madam, farewell good Sir Giles.  Lad. 
Good mistress Margaret: nay come master Welborne,  
I must not leave you behind, in sooth I must not.  Ouer. 
Rob me not Madam, of all joys at once  
Let my Nephew stay behind: he shall have my coach,  
(And after some small conference between us)  
Soon overtake your Ladyship.  Lad. 
Stay not long Sir.  Lou. 
This parting kiss: you shall every day hear from me  
By my faithful page.  Alw. 
'Tis a service I am proud of.  Exeunt. Lovell. Lady. Alworth. Margaret. Marrall. Ouer. 
Daughter to your chamber. You may wonder Nephew,  
After so long an enmity between us.  
I should desire your friendship?  
Well: so I do Sir  
'Tis strange to me.  Ouer. 
But I'll make it no wonder,  
And what is more unsold my nature to you,  
We worldly men, when we see friends, and kinsmen,  
Past hope sunk in their fortunes, lend no hand  
To lift'em up, but rather set our fear  
Upon their heads, to press'em to the bottom;  
As I must yield, with you I practised it.  
But now, I see you in a way to rise,  
I can and will assist you, this rich Lady  
(And I am glad of't) is enamoured of you;  
'Tis too apparent Nephew.  Welb. 
No such thing:  
Compassion rather Sir.  Ouer. 
Well in a word,  
Because your stay is short, I'll have you seen  
No more in this base shape; nor shall she say  
She married you like a beggar, or in debt.  Welb. 
he'll run into the noose, and save my labour. aside.  Ouer. 
You have a trunk of rich clothes, not far hence  
In pawn, I will redeem'em, and that no clamor  
May taint your credit for your petty debts,  
You shall have a thousand pounds to cut'em off,  
And go a freeman to the wealthy Lady.  Welb. 
This done Sir out of love, and no ends else.  Ouer. 
As it is Nephew.  Welb. 
Binds my still your servant.  Ouer. 
No compliments; you are stayed for e'er y'ave supped  
You shall hear from me, my coach Knaves for my Nephew:  
Tomorrow I will visit you.  Welb. 
here's an Uncle  
In a man's extremes! how much they do belie you  
That say you are hard-hearted.  Ouer. 
My deed's nephew  
Shall speak my love, what men report, I weigh not.  Exeunt. 
finis Actus tertii.    

Actus quarti, Scena prima.  

Lovell. Alworth.  LOuell. 
'Tis well: give me my cloak: I now discharge you  
From further service. Mind your own affairs,  
I hope they will prove successful.  Alw. 
What is blessed  
With your good wish my Lord, cannot but prosper,  
Let after-times report, and to your Honour  
How much I stand engaged, for I want language  
To speak my debt: yet if a tear, or two  
Of joy for your much goodness, can supply  
My tongues defects I could.  Lou. 
Nay, do not melt:  
This ceremonial thanks to me's superfluous.  Ouerreach 
within. Is my Lord stirring?  Lou. 
'Tis he, oh here's your letter: let him in.  Enter Over, Gred. Mar. Ouer. 
A good day to my Lord.  Lou, 
You are an early riser,  
Sir Giles.  Ouer. 
And reason to attend your Lordship.  Lou. 
And you too master Greedy, up so soon?  Greed. 
In troth my Lord after the Sun is up  
I cannot sleep, for I have a foolish stomach  
That croaks for breakfast. With your Lordship's favour;  
I have a serious question to demand  
Of my worthy friend Sir Giles.  Lou. 
Pray you use your pleasure.  Greed. 
How far Sir Giles, and pray you answer me,  
Upon your credit, hold you it to be  
From your Manor house, to this of my Lady Alworth's.  Ouer. 
Why some four mile.  Greed. 
How! four mile? good Sir Giles.  
Upon your reputation think better  
For if you do abate but one half quarter  
Of five you do yourself the greatest wrong  
That can be in the world: for four miles riding  
Could not have raised so huge an appetite  
As I feel gnawing on me.  Mar. 
Whither you ride,  
Or go a foot, you are that way still provided  
And it please your Worship.  Ouer. 
How now Sirrah? prating  
Before my Lord: no difference? go to my Nephew;  
See all his debts discharged, and help his Worship  
To fit on his rich suit.  Mar. 
I may fit you too;  
Tossed like a dog still.  Exit Marrall. Lou. 
I have written this morning  
A few lines to my mistress your fair daughter.  Ouer. 
'Twill fire her, for she's wholly yours already:  
Sweet master Alworth, take my ring 'twill carry you  
To her presence I dare warrant you, and there plead  
For my good Lord, if you shall find occasion.  
That done, pray ride to Nottingham, get a licence,  
Still by this token, I'll have it dispatched,  
And suddenly my Lord, that I may say  
My honourable, nay, right honourable daughter,  Greed. 
Take my advice young Gentleman: get your breakfast.  
'Tis unwholesome to ride fasting, I'll eat with you  
And eat to purpose.  Ouer. 
Some Furies in that gut:  
Hungry again! did you not devour this morning,  
A shield of Brawn, and a barrel of Colchester oysters?  Greed. 
Why that was Sir; only to scour my stomach,  
A kind of a preparative. Come Gentleman  
I will not have you feed like the Hangman of Vlushing  
Alone, while I am here.  Lou. 
Hast your return.  Alw. 
I will not fail my Lord.  Greed. 
Nor I to line  
My Christmas coffer.  Exeunt Greedy and Alworth. Ouer. 
To my wish, we are private.  
I come not to make offer with my daughter  
A certain portion, that were poor, and trivial.  
In one word I pronounce all that is mine,  
In lands, or leases, ready coin, or goods,  
With her, my Lord comes to you, nor shall you have  
One motive to induce you to believe,  
I live too long, since every year I'll add  
Something unto the heap, which shall be yours too.  Lou. 
You are a right kind father.  Ouer. 
You shall have reason  
To think me such, how do you like this seat?  
It is well wooded, and well watered, the Acres  
Fertile, and rich; would it not serve for change  
To entertain your friends in a Summer progress?  
What thinks my noble Lord?  Lou. 
'Tis a wholesome air,  
And well built pile, and she that's mistress of it  
Worthy the large revenue.  Ouer. 
'Shee the mistress?  
It may be so for a time: but let my Lord  
Say only that he likes it, and would have it,  
I say ere long 'tis his.  Lou. 
Impossible.  Ouer. 
You do conclude too fast, not knowing me;  
Nor the engines that I work by, 'tis not alone  
The Lady Alworth's Lands, for those once Welborne's,  
(As by her dotage on him, I know they will be,)  
Shall soon be mine. but point out any man's  
In all the Shire, and say they lie convenient,  
And useful for your Lordship, and once more  
I say aloud, They are yours.  Lou. 
I dare not own  
What's by unjust, and cruel means extorted  
My fame, and credit are more dear to me,  
Than so to expose 'em to be censured by  
The public voice.  Ouer. 
You run my Lord no hazard.  
Your reputation shall stand as fair  
In all good men's opinions as now:  
Nor can my actions, though condemned for ill,  
Cast any foul aspersion upon yours;  
For though I do contemn report myself,  
As a mere sound, I still will be so tender  
Of what concerns you in all points of Honour,  
That the immaculate whiteness of your Fame,  
Nor your unquestioned integrity  
Shall e'er be sullied with one taint, or spot  
That may take from your innocence, and candour,  
All my ambition is to have my daughter  
Right honourable, which my Lord can make her.  
And might I live to dance upon my knee  
A young Lord Lovell, borne by her unto you,  
I write nil vltra to my proudest hopes.  
As for possessions, and annual rents  
Equivalent to maintain you in the port,  
Your noble birth, and present state requires,  
I do remove that burden from your shoulders,  
And take it on mine own: for though I tithe  
The Country to supply your riotous waste,  
The scourge of prodigal's want shall never find you.  Lou. 
Are you not frighted with the imprecations,  
And curses, of whole families made wretched  
By your sinister practises?  Ouer. 
Yes as rocks are  
When foamy billows split themselves against  
Their flinty ribs; or as the Moon is moved,  
When wolves with hunger pined, howl at her brightness.  
I am of a solid temper, and like these  
Steer on a constant course: with mine own sword  
If called into the field, I can make that right,  
Which fearful enemies murmured at as wrong.  
Now for, these other piddling complaints  
Breathed out in bitterness, as when they call me  
Extortioner, Tyrant, Cormorant, or Intruder  
On my poor neighbour's right, or grand encloser  
Of what was common, to my private use;  
Nay, when my cares are pierced with Widow's cries,  
And undone Orphans wash with tears my threshold;  
I only think what 'tis to have my daughter  
Right honourable; and 'tis a powerful charm  
Makes me insensible of remorse, or pity,  
Or the least sting of Conscience.  Lou. 
I admire  
The toughness of your nature.  Ouer. 
'Tis for you  
My Lord, and for my daughter, I am marble  
Nay more more if you will have my character  
In little, I enjoy more true delight  
In my arrival to my wealth, these dark,  
And crooked ways, than you shall e'er take pleasure  
In spending what my industry hath compassed.  
My haste commands me hence, In one word therefore  
Is it a Match?  Lou. 
I hope that is past doubt now.  Ouer. 
Then rest secure, not the hate of all mankind here;  
Nor fear of what can fall on me hereafter,  
Shall make me study aught but your advancement,  
One story higher. An Earl! if gold can do it.  
Dispute not my religion, nor my faith,  
Though I am borne thus headlong by my will,  
You may make choice of what belief you please,  
To me they are equal, so my Lord good morrow.  Exit. Lou. 
he's gone, I wonder how the Earth can bear  
Such a portent! ay, that have lived a Soldier,  
And stood the enemies violent charge undaunted  
To hear this blasphemous beast, I'm bathed all over  
In a cold sweat: yet like a mountain he  
Confirmed in Atheistical assertions,  
Is no more shaken, than Olimpus is  
When angry Boreas loads his double head  
With sudden drifts of snow.  Enter Amble. Lady. Woman. Lad. 
Save you my Lord.  
Disturb I not your privacy?  Lou. 
No good Madam;  
For your own sake I am glad you came no sooner.  
Since this bold, bad man, Sir Giles Overreach  
Made such a plain discovery of himself,  
And read this morning such a devilish Matins,  
That I should think it a sin next to his;  
But to repeat it.  Lad. 
I ne'er pressed my Lord  
On others privacies, yet against my will,  
Walking, for health sake, in the gallery  
Adjoining to your lodgings, I was made  
(So vehement, and loud he was) partaker  
Of his tempting offers.  Lad. 
Please you to command  
Your servants hence, and I shall gladly hear  
Your wiser counsel.  Lad. 
'Tis my Lord a woman's  
But true, and hearty; wait in the next room,  
But be within call: yet not so near to force me  
To whisper my intents.  Amb. 
We are taught better  
By you good Madam.  Wom. 
And well know our distance.  Lad. 
Do so, and talk not't will become your breeding. Exeunt, Amble and Woman.  
Now my good Lord; if I may use my freedom,  
As to an honoured friend?  Lou. 
You lessen else  
Your favour to me.  Lad. 
I dare then say thus;  
As you are Noble( howe'er common men  
Make sordid wealth the object, and sole end  
Of their industrious aims) 'twill not agree  
With those of eminent blood (who are engaged  
More to prefer their Honours, than to increase  
The State left to 'em, by their Ancestors)  
To study large additions to their fortunes  
And quite neglect their births: though I must grant  
Riches well got to be a useful Servant)  
But a bad Master.  Lou. 
Madam, 'tis confessed;  
But what infer you from it?  Lad. 
This my Lord;  
That as all wrongs, though thrust into one scale  
Slide of themselves off, when right fills the other,  
And cannot bide the trial: so all wealth  
(I mean if ill acquired) cemented to Honour  
By virtuous ways achieved, and bravely purchased,  
Is but as rubbage poured into a river  
( howe'er intended to make good the bank)  
Rendering the water that was pure before,  
Polluted, and unwholesome. I allow  
The heir of Sir Giles Overreach. Margaret.  
A maid well qualified, and the richest match  
Our North part can make boast of, yet she cannot  
With all that she brings with her fill their mouths,  
That never will forget who was her father;  
Or that my husband Alworth's lands, and Welborne's  
(How wrung from both needs now no repetition)  
Were real motive, that more worked your Lordship  
To join your families; than her form, and virtues.  
You may conceive the rest.  Lou. 
I do sweet Madam;  
And long since have considered it I know  
The sum of all that makes a just man happy  
Consists in the well choosing of his wife  
And there well to discharge it, does require  
Equality of years, of birth, of fortune,  
For beauty being poor, and not cried up  
By birth or wealth, can truly mix with neither.  
And wealth, where there's such difference in years,  
And fair descent, must make the yoke uneasy:  
But I come nearer.  Lad. 
Pray you do my Lord.  Lou. 
Were Overreach, stat's thrice centupled; his daughter  
Millions of degrees, much fairer than she is,  
( howe'er! might urge precedents to excuse me)  
I would not so adulterate my blood  
By marrying Margaret, and so leave my issue  
Made up of several pieces, one part scarlet  
And the other London-blue. In my own tomb  
I will inter my name first.  Lad. 
I am glad to hear this: aside.  
Why then my Lord pretend you marriage to her?  
Dissimulation but ties false knots  
On that straight line, by which you hitherto  
Have measured all your actions?  Lou. 
I make answer  
And aptly, with a question. Wherefore have you,  
That since your husband's death, have lived a strict,  
And chaste nun's life, on the sudden given yourself  
To visits, and entertainments? think you Madam  
'Tis not growge public conference? or the favours  
Which you too prodigally have thrown on Welborne  
Being too reserved before, incur not censure?  Lad. 
I am innocent here, and on my life I swear  
My ends are good.  Lou. 
On my soul so are mine  
To Margaret: but leave both to the event  
And since this friendly privacy does serve  
But as an offered means unto ourselves  
To search each other farther; you having shown  
Your care of me, ay, my respect to you;  
Deny me not, but still in chaste words Madam  
An afternoon's discourse.  Lad. 
So I shall hear you.   

Actus quarti, Scena secunda.  

Tapwell.  
Froth.   Apwell. 
Undone, undone! this was your counsel, Froth.  Froth. 
Mine! I defy thee, did not master Marrall  
(He has marred all I am sure) strictly command us  
(On pain of Sir Giles Overreach displeasure)  
To turn the Gentleman out of doors?  Tapw. 
'Tis true  
But now he's his Uncle's darling, and has got  
Master justice Greedy (since he filled his belly)  
At his commandment, to do any thing;  
Woe, woe to us.  Froth. 
He may prove merciful.  Tap. 
Troth, we do not deserve it at his hands:  
Though he knew all the passages of our house;  
As the receiving of stolen goods, and bawdry  
When he was rogue Welborne, no man would believe him,  
And then his information could not hurt us.  
But now he is right Worshipful again,  
Who dares but doubt his testimony? methinks  
I see thee Froth already in a cart  
For a close Bawd, thine eyes cu'n pelted out  
With dirt, and rotten eggs, and my hand hissing  
(If I scape the halter) with the letter R.  
Printed upon it.  Froth. 
Would that were the worst:  
That were but nine days' wonder, as for credit  
We have none to lose; but we shall lose the money  
He owes us and his custom, there's the hell on't.  Tap. 
He has summoned all his Creditors by the drum,  
And they swarm about him like so many soldiers  
On the pay day, and has found out such a new way  
To pay his old debts, as 'tis very likely  
He shall be chronicled for it.  Froth. 
He deserves it  
More than ten Pageants. But are you sure his Worship  
Comes this way to my Ladies?  A cry within, brave Master Welborne. Tapw. 
Yes I hear him.  Froth. 
Be ready with your petition and present it  
To his good Grace.  Enter Welb. in a rich habit, Greed. Ord. Furn. three Creditors: Tapw. kneeling delivers his bill of debt. Welb. 
How's this! petitioned too?  
But note what miracles, the payment of  
A little trash, and a rich suit of clothes  
Can work upon these Rascals. I shall be  
I think prince Welborne.  Mar. 
When your Worships married  
You may be, I know what I hope to see you.  Welb. 
Then look thou for advancement.  Mar. 
To be known  
Your worship's Bailiff is the mark I shoot at.  Welb. 
And thou shalt hit it.  Mar. 
Pray you Sir dispatch  
These needy followers, and for my admittance  
Provided you'll defend me from Sir Giles. This interim, Tapwell and Froth flattering & bribing justice Greedy.  
Whose service I am weary of I'll say something  
You shall give thanks for.  Welb. 
Fear me not Sir Giles  Greed. 
Who? Tapwell? I remember thy wife brought me  
Last new years' tide, a couple of fat turkeys.  Tapw. 
And shall do every Christmas, let your Worship  
But stand my friend now.  Greed. 
How? with master Welborne?  
I can do any thing with him, on such terms;  
See you this honest couple: they are good souls  
As ever drew out faucet, have they not  
A pair of honest faces?  Welb. 
I o'er heard you,  
And the bribe he promised, you are cozened in 'em,  
For of all the scum that grew rich by my riots  
This for a most unthankful knave, and this  
For a base bawd, and whore, have worst deserved me,  
And therefore speak not for'em, by your place  
You are rather to do me justice; lend me your ear,  
Forget his Turkeys, and call in his Licence,  
And at the next Fair, I'll give you a yoke of Oxen  
Worth all his Poultry.  Greed. 
I am changed on the sudden  
In my opinion! come near; nearer Rascal.  
And now I view him better; did you e'er see  
One look so like an arch-knave? his very countenance,  
Should an understanding judge but look upon him,  
Would hang him, though he were innocent.  Tap. Froth. 
Worshipful Sir.  Greed. 
No though the great Turk came instead of Turkeys,  
To beg any favour, I am inexorable:  
Thou hast an ill name: besides thy musty Ale  
That hath destroyed many of the king's liege people  
Thou never hadst in thy house to stay men's stomachs  
A piece of Suffolk cheese, or Gammon of Bacon,  
Or any esculent, as the learned call it,  
For their emolument, but sheer drink only.  
For which gross fault, I here do damn thy licence,  
Forbidding thee ever to tap, or draw.  
For instantly, I will in mine own person  
Command the Constable to pull down thy Sign;  
And do it before I eat.  Froth. 
No mercy?  Greed. 
Vanish.  
If I show any, may my promised Oxen gore me.  Tapw. 
Unthankful knaves are ever so rewarded  Exeunt Greedie, Tapwell. Froth. Welb. 
Speak; what are you?  1. Creditor. 
A decayed Vintner Sir,  
That might have thrived, but that your worship broke me  
With trusting you with Muskadine and Eggs,  
And five pound Suppers, with your after drinkings,  
When you lodged upon the Bankside.  Welb. 
Remember.  1. Cred. 
I have not been hasty, nor e'er laid to arrest you.  
And therefore Sir---  Welb. 
Thou art an honest fellow:  
I'll set thee up again, see his bill paid,  
What are you?  2. Cred. 
A tailor once, but now mere Botcher.  
I gave you credit for a suit of clothes.  
Which was all my stock, but you failing in payment,  
I was removed from the Shop. board, and confined  
Under a Stall.  Welb. 
See him paid, and botch no more.  2. Cred. 
I ask no interest Sir.  Welb. 
Such Tailors need not,  
If their bills are paid in one and twenty year  
They are seldom losers. O, I know thy face  
Thou were't my Surgeon: you must tell no tales.  
Those days are done. I will pay you in private.  Ord. 
A royal Gentleman.  Furn. 
Royal as an Emperor!  
He'll prove a brave master, my good Lady knew  
To choose a man.  Welb. 
See all men else discharged  
And since Old debts are clear why a new way,  
A little bounty, will not misbecome me;  
There's something honest Cook for thy good breakfasts,  
And this for your respect, take't, 'tis good gold  
And I able to spare it.  Ord. 
You are too munificent.  Furn. 
He was ever so.  Welb. 
Pray you on before.  3. Gred. 
Heaven bless you.  Mar. 
At four o'clock the rest know where to meet me  Exeunt Ord. Furn. Furn. Credit. Welb. 
Now master Marrall, what's the weighty secret  
You promised to impart?  Mar. 
Sir, time, nor place  
Allow me to relate each circumstance;  
This only in a word: I know Sir Giles  
Will come upon you for security  
For his thousand pounds, which you must not consent to  
As he grows in heat, as I am sure he will,  
Be you but rough, and say he's in your debt  
Ten times the sum, upon sale of your land,  
I had a hand in't (I speak it to my shame)  
When you were defeated of it.  Welb. 
That's forgiven.  Mar. 
I shall deserve't then; urge him to produce  
The deed in which you passed it over to him,  
Which I know he'll have about him to deliver  
To the Lord Lovell, with many other writings,  
And present moneys, I'll instruct you further,  
As I wait on your Worship, if I play not my price  
To your full content, and your Uncle's much vexation,  
Hang up Jack Marrall.  Welb. 
I rely upon thee.  Exeunt.  

Actus quarti, Scena vltima.  
Alworth. Margaret.  ALworth. 
Whither to yield the first praise to my Lord's.  
Unequalled temperance, or your constant sweetness,  
That I yet live, my weak hands fastened on.  
Hope's anchor, spite of all storms of Despair,  
I yet rest doubtful.  Marg. 
Give it to Lord Lovell.  
For what in him was bounty, in me's duty.  
I make but payment of a debt, to which  
My vows in that high office registered,  
Are faithful witnesses.  Alw. 
'Tis true my dearest,  
Yet when I call to mind how many fair ones  
Make wilful shipwreck of their faiths, and oaths  
To God, and Man to fill the arms of Greatness,  
And you, rise up less than a glorious star  
To the amazement of the world, that hold out  
Against the stern authority of a Father,  
And spurn at honour when it comes to court you,  
I am so tender of your good, that faintly  
With your wrong I can wish myself that right  
You yet are pleased to do me.  Marg. 
Yet, and ever,  
To me what's title, when content is wanting?  
Or wealth raked up together with much care,  
And to be kept with more, when the heart pines,  
In being dispossessed of what it longs for,  
Beyond the Indian mines; or the smooth brow  
Of a pleased Site, that slaves me to his will?  
And so his ravenous humour may be feasted  
By my obedience, and he see me great,  
Leaves to my soul nor faculties, nor power  
To make her own election.  Alw. 
But the dangers  
That follow the repulse.  Marg. 
To me they are nothing:  
Let Alworth love, I cannot be unhappy.  
Suppose the worst, that in his rage he kill me,  
A tear, or two, by you dropped on my hearse  
In sorrow for my fate, will call back life  
So far, as but to say that I die yours,  
I then shall rest in peace, or should he prove  
So cruel, as one death would not suffice  
His thirst of vengeance, but with lingering torments  
In mind, and body, I must waste to air,  
In poverty, joined with banishment, so you share  
In my afflictions, (which I dare not wish you,)  
So high I prize you; I could undergo 'em,  
With such a patience as should look down  
With scorn on his worst malice.  Aiw. 
Heaven avert  
Such trials of your true affection to me,  
Nor will it unto you that are all mercy  
Show so much rigour: but since we must run  
Such desperate hazards, let us do our best  
To steer between 'em.  Marg. 
Your Lord's ours, and sure,  
And though but a young actor second me  
In doing to the life, what he has plotted,  
The end may yet prove happy: now my Alworth.  Enter Ouerreach. Alw. 
To your letter, and put on a seeming anger.  Marg. 
I'll pay my Lord all debts due to his title,  
And when with terms, not taking from his Honour,  
He does solicit me, I shall gladly hear him.  
But in this peremptory, nay commanding way  
t'appoint t''appoint a meeting, and without my knowledge;  
A Priest to tie the knot, can ne'er be undone  
Till death unloose it, is a confidence  
In his Lordship, will deceive him.  Alw. 
I hope better,  
Good Lady.  Marg. 
Hope Sir what you please: for me  
I must take a safe and secure course; I have  
A father, and without his full consent,  
Though all Lords of the land kneeled for my favour,  
I can grant nothing.  Ouer. 
I like this obedience.  
But whatsoever my Lord writes, must, and shall be  
Accepted, and embraced. Sweet master Alworth,  
You show yourself a true, and faithful servant  
To your good Lord, he has a jewel of you.  
How? frowning Meg? are these looks to receive  
A messenger from my Lord? what's this? give me it.  Marg. 
A piece of arrogant paper like th'inscriptions  Ouer. 
Ouerreach read the letter .Fair mistress from your servant learn, all joys  
That we can hope for, if deferred, prove toys;  
Therefore this instant, and in private meet  
A Husband, that will gladly at your feet  
Lay down his Honours, tendering them to you  
With all content, the Church being paid her due.  
Is this the arrogant piece of paper? Fool,  
Will you still be one? in the name of madness, what  
Could his good Honour write more to content you?  
Is there ought else to be wished after these two,  
That are already offered? Marriage first,  
And lawful pleasure after: what would you more?  Marg. 
Why Sir, I would be married like your daughter;  
Not hurried away i'th' night I know not whither,  
Without all ceremony: no friends invited  
To honour the solemnity.  Alw. 
An't please your Honour,  
For so before tomorrow I must style you:  
My Lord desire this privacy in respect  
His honourable kinsmen are far off,  
And his desires to have it done brook not  
So long delay as to expect their coming;  
And yet He stands resolved, with all due pomp:  
As running at the ring, plays, masques, and tilting  
To have his marriage at Court celebrated  
When he has brought your Honour up to London.  Ouer. 
He tells you true; 'tis the fashion on my knowledge  
Yet the good Lord to please your peevishness  
Must put it off forsooth, and lose a night  
In which perhaps he might get two boys on thee.  
Tempt me no farther, if you do, this good  
Shall prick you to him.  Marg. 
I could be contented,  
Were you but by to do a father's part,  
And give me in the Church.  Ouer. 
So my Lord have you  
What do I care who gives you since my Lord  
Does purpose to be private, I'll not cross him.  
I know not master Alworth how my Lord  
May be provided, and therefore there's a purse  
Of gold 'twill serve this night's expense, tomorrow  
I'll furnish him with any sums: in the mean time  
Use my ring to my Chaplain; he is beneficed  
At my Manor of Gotam, and called parson Will-do  
'Tis no matter for a licence, I'll bear him out in't.  Marg. 
With your favour Sir, what warrant is your ring?  
He may suppose I got that twenty ways  
Without your knowledge, and then to be refused,  
We're such a stain upon me, if you pleased Sir  
Your presence would do better.  Ouer. 
Still perverse?  
I say again I will not cross my Lord,  
Yet I'll prevent you too. Paper and ink there?  Alw. 
I can furnish you.  Ouer. 
I thank you, I can write then.  Writes on his book. Alw. 
You may if you please, put out the name of my Lord  
In respect he comes disguised, and only write  
Marry, her to this Gentleman.  Ouer. 
Well advised Margaret kneels.  
'Tis done, away my blessing Girl? thou hast it.  
Nay, no reply begone, good master Alworth.  
This shall be the best nights work, you ever made  Alw. 
I hope so Sir.  Exeunt Alworth. and Margaret. Ouer. 
Farewell, now all's cocksure:  
methinks I hear already, Knights, and Ladies,  
Say Sir Giles Overreach, how is it with  
Your Honourable daughter? has her Honour  
Slept well tonight? or will her Honour please  
To accept this Monkey? Dog? or parakeet?  
This is state in Ladies. or my eldest son  
To be her page, and wait upon her trencher?  
My ends! my ends are compassed! then for Welborne  
And the lands; were he once married to the widow,  
I have him here, I can scarce contain myself,  
I am so full of joy; nay joy all over.  Exit the end of the fourth Act.   

Actus quinti, Scena quinta.  

Lovell. Lady. Amble.  LAdy. 
By this you know, how strong the motives were  
That did, my Lord, induce me to dispense  
A little with my gravity, to advance  
(In personating some few favours to him)  
The plots, and projects of the downtrod  
Welborne.  
Nor shall I e'er repent (although I suffer  
In some few men's opinions for't) the action.  
For he, that ventured all for my dear Husband,  
Might justly claim an obligation from me  
To pay him such a courtesy: which had I  
coily, or overcuriously denied,  
It might have argued me of little love  
To the deceased.  Lou. 
What you intended Madam  
For the poor Gentleman, hath found good success,  
For as I understand his debts are paid,  
And he once more furnished for fair employment  
But all the arts that I have used to raise  
The fortunes of your loy, and mine, young Alworth,  
Stand yet in supposition, though I hope well  
For the young lovers are in wit more pregnant,  
Than their years can promise; and for their desires  
On my knowledge they are equal.  Lady. 
As my wishes  
Are with yours my Lord, yet give me leave to fear  
The building though well grounded: to deceive  
Sir Giles, that's both a Lion, and a Fox  
In his proceedings, were a work beyond  
The strongest undertakers, not the trial  
Of two weak innocents.  Lou. 
Despair not Madam:  
Hard things are compassed oft by easy means,  
And judgement, being a gift derived from heaven,  
Though sometimes lodged itt'h hearts of worldly men  
(That ne'er consider from whom they receive it)  
Forsakes such as abuse the giver of it.  
Which is the reason, that the politic,  
And cunning Statesman, that believes he fathoms  
The counsels of all Kingdoms on the earth  
Is by simplicity oft overreach.  Lady. 
May he be so, yet in his name to express it  
Is a good O men.  Lou. 
May it to myself  
Prove so good Lady in my suit to you:  
What think you of the motion?  Lady. 
Troth my Lord  
My own unworthiness may answer for me;  
For had you, when that I was in my prime,  
My virgin-flower uncropped, presented me  
With this great favour, looking on my lowness  
Not in a glass of self-love, but of truth  
I could not but have thought it, as a blessing  
Far, far beyond my merit.  Lou. 
You are too modest,  
And undervalue that which is above  
My title, or whatever I call mine.  
I grant, were I a Spaniard to marry  
A widow might disparage me, but being  
A true borne Englishman, I cannot find  
How it can taint my Honour; nay what's more,  
That which you think a blemish is to me  
The fairest lustre. You already Madam  
Have given sure proofs how dearly you can cherish  
A Husband that deserves you: which confirms me,  
That if I am not wanting in my care  
To do you service, you'll be still the same  
That you were to your Alworth, in a word  
Our years, our states, our births are not unequal,  
You being descended nobly and allied so,  
If then you may be won to make me happy,  
But join your lips to mine, and that shall be  
A solemn contract.  Lady. 
I were blind to my own good  
Should I refuse it, yet my Lord receive me  
As such a one, the study of whose whole life  
Shall know no other object but to please you.  Lou. 
If I return not with all tenderness,  
Equal respect to you, may I die wretched.  Lady. 
There needs no protestation my Lord  
To her that cannot doubt, you are welcome Sir.  
Now you look like yourself.  Enter Welborne. Welb. 
And will continue  
Such in my free acknowledgement, that I am  
Your creature Madam, and will never hold  
My life mine own, when you please to command it.  Lou. 
It is a thankfulness that well becomes you;  
You could not make choice of a better shape,  
To dress your mind in.  Lady 
For me I am happy  
That my endeavours prospered, saw you of late  
Sir Giles, your Uncle?  Welb. 
I heard of him, Madam,  
By his minister Marrall, he's grown into strange passions  
About his daughter, this last night he looked for  
Your Lordship at his house, but missing you,  
And she not yet appearing, his wise-head  
Is much perplexed, and troubled.  Lou. 
It may be  
Sweet heart, my project took.  Enter Ouer. with distracted looks, driving in Marrall before him. Lad. 
I strongly hope.  Ouer. 
Ha! find her Booby thou huge lump of nothing  
I'll bore thine eyes out else.  Welbo. 
May it please your Lordship  
For some ends of mine own but to withdraw  
A little out of sight, though not of hearing,  
You may perhaps have sport.  Lou. 
You shall direct me.  steps aside. Ouer. 
I shall sol fa you Rogue.  Mar. 
Sir, for what cause  
Do you use me thus?  Ouer. 
'cause slave why I am angry,  
And thou a subject only fit for beating,  
And so to cool my choler, look to the writing  
Let but the seal be broke upon the box,  
That has slept in my cabinet these three years;  
I'll rack thy soul for't.  Mar. 
I may yet cry quittance,  
Though now I suffer, and dare not resist.  aside. Ouer. 
Lady, by your leave, did you see my Daughter Lady?  
And the Lord her husband? Are they in your house?  
If they are, discover, that I may bid'em joy;  
And as an entrance to her place of Honour,  
See your Ladyship on her left hand, and make curtsies  
When she nods on you; which you must receive  
As a special favour.  Lady. 
When I know, Sir Giles,  
Her state requires such ceremony, I shall pay it  
But in the mean time, as I am myself,  
I give you to understand, I neither know,  
Nor care where her Honour is.  Ouer. 
When you once see her  
Supported, and led by the Lord her Husband  
You'll be taught better. Nephew.  Welb. 
Sir.  Ouer. 
No more.  Welb. 
'Tis all I owe you.  Welb. 
Have your redeemed rags  
Made you thus insolent?  Welb. 
Insolent to you? in scorn.  
Why what are you Sir, unless in your years,  
At the best more than myself?  Ouer. 
His fortune swells him  
'Tis rank he's married.  Lady. 
This is excellent!  Ouer. 
Sir, in calm language (though I seldom use it)  
I am familiar with the cause, that makes you  
Bear up thus bravely, there's a certain buzz  
Of a stolen marriage, do you hear of a stolen marriage?  
In which 'tis said there's somebody hath been cozened.  
I name no parties.  Welb. 
Well Sir, and what follows?  Ouer. 
Marry this; Since you are peremptory: remember  
Upon mere hope of your great match, I lent you  
A thousand pounds: put me in good security,  
And suddenly my Mortgage, or by Statute  
Of some of your new possessions, or I'll have you  
Dragged in your lavender robes to the Gaol, you know me,  
And therefore do not trifle.  Welb. 
Can you be  
So cruel to your Nephew? now he's in  
The way to rise: was this the courtesy  
You did me in pure love, and no ends else?  Ouer. 
End me no ends: engage the whole estate,  
And force your Spouse to sign it, you shall have  
Three, or four thousand more to roar, and swagger,  
And revel in bawdy taverns.  Welb. 
And beg after:  
Mean you not so?  Ouer. 
My thoughts are mine, and free.  
Shall I have security?  Welb. 
No: indeed you shall not:  
Nor bond, nor bill, nor bare acknowledgement,  
Your great looks fright not me.  Ouer. 
But my deeds shall:  
Outbraved?  They both draw the servants enter. Lady. 
Help murder, murder.  Welb. 
Let him come on,  
With all his wrongs, and injuries about him,  
Armed with his cutthroat practises to guard him;  
The right that I bring with me, will defend me,  
And punish his extortion.  Ouer. 
That I had thee  
But single in the field.  Lady. 
You may, but make not  
My house your quarrelling Scene.  Ouer. 
Were't in a Church  
By heaven, and hell, I'll do't.  Mar. 
Now put him to  
The showing of the deed.  Welb. 
This rage is vain Sir,  
For fighting fear not you shall have your hands full,  
Upon the least incitement; and whereas  
You charge me with a debt of a thousand pounds,  
If there be law,( howe'er you have no conscience)  
Either restore my land, or I'll recover  
A debt, that's truly due to me, from you  
In value ten times more than what you challenge.  Ouer. 
I in thy debt! O impudence! did I not purchase  
The land left by thy father? that rich land,  
That had continued in Welborne's name  
Twenty descents; which like a riotous fool  
Thou didst make sale of? is not here enclosed  
The deed that does confirm it mine?  Mar. 
Now, now:  Welb. 
I do acknowledge none, I ne'er passed o'er  
Any such land, I grant for a year, or two,  
You had it in trust, which if you do discharge,  
Surrendering the possession, you shall ease  
yourself, and me, of chargeable suits in law,  
Which is you prove not honest, (as I doubt it)  
Must of necessity follow.  Lady. 
In my judgement  
He does advise you well.  Ouer. 
Good! Good! conspire  
With your new Husband Lady; second him  
In his dishonest practises; but when  
This Manor is extended to my use,  
You'll speak in an humbler key, and sue for favour.  Lady. 
Never: do not hope it.  Welb. 
Let despair first seize me.  Ouer. 
Yet to shut up thy mouth, and make thee give  
thyself the lie, the loud lie: I draw out  
The precious evidence; if thou canst forswear  
Thy hand, and seal, and make a forfeit of  
Thy ears to the pillory: see here's that will make  
My interest clear. Ha!  Opens the box. Lady. 
A fair skin of parchment  Welb. 
Indented I confess, and labels too,  
But neither wax, nor words. How! thunderstruck?  
Not a syllable to insult with? my wise Uncle  
Is this your precious evidence? is this that makes  
Your interest clear  Ouer. 
I am o'erwhelmed with wonder!  
What prodigy is this what subtle devil  
Hath razed out the inscription the wax  
Turned into dust! the rest of my deeds whole,  
As when they were delivered! and this only  
Made nothing! do you deal with witch's Rascal?  
There is a statute for you, which will bring  
Your neck in a hempen circle yes, there is.  
And now 'tis better thought, for Cheater know  
This juggling shall not save you  Welb. 
To save thee would beggar the stock of mercy.  Ouer. 
Marrall.  Mar. 
Sir.  Ouer. 
flattering him Though the witnesses are dead, your testimony  
Help with an oath or two, and for thy master,  
Thy liberal master, my good honest servant.  
I know, you will swear any thing to dash  
This cunning slight: beside, I know thou art  
A public notary, and such stand in law  
For a dozen witnesses; the deed being drawn too  
By thee, my careful Marrall, and delivered  
When thou wert present will make good my title  
Wilt thou not swear this?  Mar. 
I? no I assure you.  
I have a conscience, not seared up like yours  
I know no deeds.  Ouer. 
Wilt thou betray me?  Mar. 
Keep him  
From using of his hands, I'll use my tongue  
To his no little torment.  Ouer. 
Mine own Varlet  
Rebel against me?  Mar. 
Yes, and uncase you too.  
The Idiot; the Patch; the Slave! the Booby;  
The property fit only to be beaten  
For your morning exercise; your Football or  
Th'unprofitable lump of flesh; your Drudge  
Can now anatomize you, and lay open  
All your black plots; and level with the earth  
Your hill of pride; and with these gabions guarded,  
Unload my great artillery, and shake,  
Nay pulverize the walls you think defend you.  Lady. 
How he foams at the mouth with rage.  Walb. 
To him again.  Ouer. 
O that I had thee in my gripe, I would tear thee  
joint, after joint.  Mar. 
I know you are a tearer  
But I'll have first your fangs pared off, and then  
Come nearer to you, when I have, discovered,  
And made it good before the judge, what ways  
And devilish practises you used to cozen  
With an army of whole families, who yet live,  
And but enrolled for soldiers were able  
To take in Dunkirk.  Welb. 
All will come out.  Lady. 
The better.  Ouer. 
But that I will live, Rogue, to torture thee,  
And make thee wish, and kneel in vain to die,  
These swords that keep thee from me, should fix here  
Although they made my body but one wound,  
But I would reach thee.  Lou. 
Heaven's hand is in this,  
One Bandog worry the other.  aside. Ouer. 
I play the fool,  
And make my anger but ridiculous.  
There will be a time, and place, there will be cowards,  
When you shall feel what I dare do.  Welb. 
I think so:  
You dare do any ill, yet want true valour  
To be honest, and repent.  Ouer. 
They are words I know not,  
Nor e'er will learn. Patience, the beggar's virtue. Enter Greedie and person Will-doe.  
Shall find no harbour here, after these storms  
At length a calm appears. Welcome, most welcome:  
There's comfort in thy looks, is the deed done?  
Is my daughter married? say but so my Chaplain  
And I am tame.  Will-doe. 
Married? yes I assure you.  Ouer. 
Then vanish all sad thoughts; there's more gold for thee.  
My doubts, and fears are in the titles drowned  
Of my right honourable, my right honourable daughter  Greed. 
Here will I be feasting; at least for a month  
I am provided: empty guts croak no more,  
You shall be stuffed like bagpipes, not with wind  
But bearing dishes.  Ouer. 
Instantly be here? Whispering to Will-doe.  
To my wish, to my wish, now you that plot against me  
And hoped to trip my heels up; that contemned me; Loud music.  
Think on't and tremble, they come I hear the music.  
A lane there for my Lord.  Welb. 
This sudden heat  
May yet be cooled Sir.  Ouer. 
Make way there for my Lord.  Enter Alworth and Margaret. Marg. 
Sir, first your pardon, than your blessing with  
Your full allowance of the choice I have made  
As ever you could make use of your reason: kneeling.  
Grow not in passion: since you may as well  
Call back the day that's past, as untie the knot  
Which is too strongly fastened, not to dwell  
Too long on words, this's my Husband  Ouer. 
How!  Alw. 
So I assure you: all the rites of marriage  
With every circumstance are passed, alas Sir,  
Although I am no Lord, but a lord's page,  
Your daughter, and my loved wife mourns not for it.  
And for Right honourable son in Law, you may say  
Your dutiful daughter.  Ouer. 
Devil: are they married?  Will-doe. 
do a father's part, and say heaven give'em joy.  Ouer. 
Confusion, and ruin, speak, & speak quickly,  
Or thou art dead.  Will-doe. 
They are married.  Ouer. 
Thou hadst better  
Have made a contract with the King of fiends  
Than these, my brain turns!  Will-doe. 
Why this rage to me?  
Is not this your letter Sir? and these the words?  
Marry her to this Gentleman.  Ouer. 
It cannot:  
Nor will I e'er believe its death I will not,  
That I, that in all passages I touched  
At worldly profit, have not left a print  
Where I have trod for the most curious search  
To trace my footsteps, should be gulled by children,  
Baffled, and fooled, and all my hopes, and labours,  
Defeated, and made void.  Welb. 
As it appears,  
You are so my grave Uncle  Ouer. 
Village Nurses  
Revenge their wrongs with curses, I'll not waste  
A syllable, but thus I take the life  
Which wretched I gave to thee.  Offers to kill Margaret. Lou. 
Hold for your own sake  
Though charity to your daughter hath quite left you  
Will you do an act, though in your hopes lost here  
Can leave no hope for peace, or rest hereafter  
Consider; at the best you are but a man,  
And cannot so create your aims, but that  
They may be crossed.  Ouer. 
Lord, thus I spit at thee,  
And at thy counsel; and again desire thee  
And as thou art a soldier, if thy valour  
Dares show itself where multitude, and example  
Lead not the way, let's quit the house, and change  
Six words in private.  Lou. 
I am ready.  Lad. 
Stay Sir,  
Contest with one distracted?  Welb. 
You'll grow like him  
Should you answer his vain challenge.  Ouer. 
Are you pale?  
Borrow his help, though Hercules call it odds  
I'll stand against both, as I am hemmed in thus.  
Since like lybian-lion in the toil,  
My fury cannot reach the coward hunters  
And only spends itself, I'll quit the place,  
Alone I can do nothing: but I have servants  
And friends to second me, and if I make not  
This house a heap of ashes (by my wrongs,  
What I have spoke I will make good) or leaned  
One throat uncut, if it be possible  
Hell add to my afflictions.  Exit Ouerreach. Mar. 
Is't not brave sport?  Greed. 
Brave sport? I am sure it has ta'en away my stomach  
I do not like the sauce.  Alw. 
Nay, weep not dearest:  
Though it express your pity, what's decreed  
Above, we cannot alter.  Lady. 
His threats move me  
No scruple, Madam.  Mar. 
Was it not a rare trick  
(And it please your Worship) to make the deed nothing?  
I can do twenty neater, if you please  
To purchase, and grow rich, for I will be  
Such a solicitor, and steward for you,  
As never Worshipful had.  Welb. 
I do believe thee.  
But first discover the quaint means you used  
To raze out the conveyance?  Mar. 
They are mysteries  
Not to be spoke in public: certain minerals  
Incorporated in the ink, and wax?  
Besides he gave me nothing, but still fed me  
With hopes, and blows; and that was the inducement  
To this conundrum. If it please your Worship  
To call to memory, this mad beast once caused me  
To urge you, or to drown, or hang, yourself,  
I'll do the like to him if you command me.  Welb. 
You are a Rascal, he that dares be false  
To a master, though unjust, will ne'er be true  
To any other: look not for reward,  
Or favour from me, I will shun thy sight  
As I would do a basilisk's. Thank my pity  
If thou keep thy cares, howe'er I will take order  
Your practice shall be silenced.  Greed. 
I'll commit him,  
If you'll have me Sir?  Welb. 
That were to little purpose,  
His conscience be his prison, not a word  
But instantly begone.  Ord. 
Take this kick with you.  Amb. 
And this.  Furn. 
If that I had my cleaver here  
I would divide your knave's head.  Mar. 
This is the haven,  
False servants still arrive at.  Exit Mar. enter Ouer. Lad. 
Come again.  Lou. 
Fear not I am your guard.  Welb. 
His looks are ghastly.  Well-doe. 
Some little time I have spent under your favours  
In physical studies, and if my judgement err not  
he's mad beyond recovery: but observe him,  
And look to yourselves.  Ouer. 
Why is not the whole world  
Included in myself? to what use then  
Are friends, and servants? say there were a squadron  
Of pikes, lined through with shot, when I am mounted  
Upon my injuries, shall I fear to charge 'em?  
No: I'll through the battalia, and that routed,  
I'll fall to execution. Ha! I am feeble: Flourishing his sword unsheathed.  
Some undone widow sits upon mine arm,  
And takes away the use of't; and my sword  
Glued to my scabbard, with wronged orphans tears  
Will not be drawn. Ha! what are these? sure hangmen,  
That come to bind my hands, and then to drag me  
Before the judgement seat now they are new shapes  
And do appear like furies, with steel whips  
To scourge my ulcerous soul? shall I then fall  
Ingloriously, and yield? no spite of fate  
I will be forced to hell like to myself,  
Though you were legions of accursed spirits.  Welb. 
Thus would I fly among you,  
There's no help  
Disarm him first, then bind him.  Greed. 
Take a Mittimus  
And carry him to Bedlam.  Lou. 
How he foams!  Welb. 
And bites the earth.  Well-doe. 
Carry him to some dark room  
There try what Art can do for his recovery.  Marg. 
O my dear father!  They force Overreach off. Alw. 
You must be patient mistress  Lou. 
Here is a precedent to teach wicked men,  
That when they leave Religion, and turn Atheists  
Their own abilities leave'em, pray you take comfort  
I will endeavour you shall be his guardians  
In his distractions: and for your land master Welborne,  
Be it good, or ill in law, I'll be an umpire,  
Between you, and this, th'undoubt heir  
Of Sir Giles Overreach, for me, here's the anchor  
That I must fix on.  Alw. 
What you shall determine,  
My lord, I will allow of.  Welb. 
'Tis the language  
That I speak too; but there is something else  
Beside the repossession of my land,  
And payment of my debts that I must practise  
I had a reputation, but 'twas lost  
In my loose course; and till I redeem it  
Some noble way, I am but half made up  
It is a time of Action, if your Lordship  
Will please to confer a company upon me  
In your command, I doubt not in my service  
To my King, and Country, but I shall do something  
That may make me right again.  Lou. 
Your suit is granted,  
And you loved for the motion,  Welb. 
Nothing wants then  
But your allowance.    

THE epilogue.  
But your allowance, and in that, our all  
Is comprehended; it being known, nor we,  
Nor be that wrote the Comedy can be free  
Without your manumission, which if you  
Grant willingly, as a fair favour due  
To the Poets, and our labours, (as you may)  
For we despair not Gentlemen of the Play)  
We jointly shall profess your grace hath might  
To teach us action, and him how to write.  
FINIS.