Chapter CXXVII: Act IV: Scene I.4085

[_Enter_ LORD] LOVELL _and_ ALLWORTH.

_Lov._ ’Tis well; give me my cloak; I now discharge you
From further service. Mind your own affairs;
I hope they will prove successful.

_All._ What is blest
With your good wish, my lord, cannot but prosper.
Let aftertimes report, and to your honour, 5
How much I stand engag’d, for I want language
To speak my debt; yet if a tear or two
Of joy, for your much goodness, can supply
My tongue’s defects, I could——

_Lov._ Nay, do not melt:
This ceremonial thanks to me ’s superfluous. 10

_Over._ (_within._) Is my lord stirring?

_Lov._ ’Tis he! oh, here’s your letter. Let him in.

_Enter_ OVERREACH, GREEDY, _and_ MARRALL.

_Over._ A good day to my lord!

_Lov._ You are an early riser,
Sir Giles.

_Over._ And reason, to attend your lordship. 15

_Lov._ And you, too, Master Greedy, up so soon!

_Greedy._ 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 20
Of my worthy friend Sir Giles.

_Lov._ Pray you use your pleasure.

_Greedy._ 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’s Allworth’s?

_Over._ Why, some four mile.

_Greedy._ How! four mile, good Sir Giles——
Upon your reputation, think better; 26
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 rais’d so huge an appetite 30
As I feel gnawing on me.

_Mar._ Whether you ride,
Or go afoot, you are that way still provided,
An it please your worship.

_Over._ How now, sirrah? Prating
Before my lord! No difference? Go to my nephew,
See all his debts discharg’d, and help his worship 35
To fit on his rich suit.

_Mar._ [_Aside._] I may fit you too.
Toss’d like a dog still! _Exit._

_Lov._ I have writ this morning
A few lines to my mistress, your fair daughter.

_Over._ ’T will fire her, for she’s wholly yours already.—
Sweet Master Allworth, take my ring; ’t will carry you 40
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 dispatch’d,
And suddenly, my lord, that I may say, 45
My honourable, nay, right honourable daughter.

_Greedy._ Take my advice, young gentleman, get your breakfast;
’Tis unwholesome to ride fasting. I’ll eat with you,
And eat to purpose.

_Over._ Some Fury’s in that gut;
Hungry again! Did you not devour, this morning, 50
A shield of brawn, and a barrel of Colchester oysters?

_Greedy._ 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 Flushing,
Alone, while I am here.

_Lov._ Haste your return. 55

_All._ I will not fail, my lord.

_Greedy._ Nor I, to line
My Christmas coffer. _Exeunt_ GREEDY _and_ ALLWORTH.

_Over._ 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, 60
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. 65

_Lov._ You are a right kind father.

_Over._ You shall have reason
To think me such. How do you like this seat?
It is well wooded, and well water’d, the acres
Fertile and rich; would it not serve for change,
To entertain your friends in a summer progress?
What thinks my noble lord?

_Lov._ ’Tis a wholesome air, 71
And well-built pile; and she that’s mistress of it,
Worthy the large revénue.

_Over._ She the mistress!
It may be so for a time: but let my lord
Say only that he likes it, and would have it, 75
I say, ere long ’t is his.

_Lov._ Impossible.

_Over._ You do conclude too fast, not knowing me,
Nor the engines[4086] that I work by. ’T is not alone
The Lady Allworth’s lands, for those once Wellborn’s 79
(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.

_Lov._ I dare not own
What ’s by unjust and cruel means extorted; 85
My fame and credit are more dear to me,
Than so to expose ’em to be censur’d by
The public voice.

_Over._ You run, my lord, no hazard.
Your reputation shall stand as fair,
In all good men’s opinions, as now; 90
Nor can my actions, though condemn’d 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 94
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.[4087]
All my ambition is to have my daughter 100
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 ultra_[4088] to my proudest hopes.
As for possessions and annual rents, 105
Equivalent to maintain you in the port
Your noble birth and present state requires,
I do remove that burthen from your shoulders,
And take it on mine own: for, though I ruin
The country to supply your riotous waste, 110
The scourge of prodigals, want, shall never find you.

_Lov._ Are you not frighted with the imprecations
And curses of whole families, made wretched
By your sinister practices?

_Over._ Yes, as rocks are,
When foamy billows split themselves against
Their flinty ribs; or as the moon is mov’d 116
When wolves, with hunger pin’d, howl at her brightness.
I am of a solid temper, and, like these,
Steer on a constant course. With mine own sword, 119
If call’d into the field, I can make that right,
Which fearful enemies murmur’d at as wrong.
Now, for these other piddling complaints
Breath’d out in bitterness; as when they call me
Extortioner, tyrant, cormorant, or intruder 124
On my poor neighbour’s right, or grand incloser
Of what was common, to my private use;
Nay, when my ears are pierc’d with widows’ cries,
And undone orphans wash with tears my threshold,
I only think what ’tis to have my daughter 129
Right honourable; and ’tis a powerful charm
Makes me insensible of remorse, or pity,
Or the least sting of conscience.

_Lov._ I admire[4089]
The toughness of your nature.

_Over._ ’Tis for you,
My lord, and for my daughter, I am marble;
Nay more, if you will have my character 135
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 compass’d.
My haste commands me hence; in one word, therefore, 140
Is it a match?

_Lov._ I hope, that is past doubt now.

_Over._ 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. 145
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._

_Lov._ He’s gone—I wonder how the earth can bear 150
Such a portent! I, that have liv’d a soldier,
And stood the enemy’s violent charge undaunted,
To hear this blasphemous beast am bath’d all over
In a cold sweat: yet, like a mountain, he
(Confirm’d in atheistical assertions) 155
Is no more shaken than Olympus[4090] is
When angry Boreas loads his double head
With sudden drifts of snow.

_Enter_ LADY ALLWORTH, Waiting Woman, _and_ AMBLE.

_L. All._ Save you, my lord!
Disturb I not your privacy?

_Lov._ No, good madam;
For your own sake I am glad you came no sooner, 160
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.

_L. All._ I ne’er press’d, my lord, 165
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.

_Lov._ Please you to command 170
Your servants hence, and I shall gladly hear
Your wiser counsel.

_L. All._ ’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 175
By you, good madam.

_W. Wom._ And well know our distance.

_L. All._ Do so, and talk not; ’t will become your breeding,
_Exeunt_ AMBLE _and_ W. Woman.
Now, my good lord; if I may use my freedom,
As to an honour’d friend——

_Lov._ You lessen else
Your favour to me.

_L. All._ I dare then say thus: 180
As you are noble (howe’er common men
Make sordid wealth the object and sole end
Of their industrious aims) ’t will not agree
With those of eminent blood, who are engag’d
More to prefer[4091] their honours than to increase
The state left to ’em by their ancestors, 185
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.

_Lov._ Madam, ’tis confessed; 190
But what infer you from it?

_L. All._ 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-acquir’d, cemented to honour 195
By virtuous ways achiev’d, and bravely purchas’d,
Is but as rubbish pour’d into a river,
(Howe’er intended to make good the bank,)
Rendering the water, that was pure before,
Polluted and unwholesome. I allow 200
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; 205
Or that my husband Allworth’s lands, and Wellborn’s,
(How wrung from both needs now no repetition,)
Were real motives that more work’d your lordship
To join your families, than her form and virtues:
You may conceive the rest.

_Lov._ I do, sweet madam, 210
And long since have consider’d 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; 215
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.

_L. All._ Pray you do, my lord. 220

_Lov._ Were Overreach’s states thrice centupl’d, his daughter
Millions of degrees much fairer than she is,
Howe’er I 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, 226
And the other London blue. In my own tomb
I will inter my name first.

_L. All._ (_Aside._) I am glad to hear this.——
Why then, my lord, pretend you marriage to her?
Dissimulation but ties false knots 230
On that straight line by which you, hitherto,
Have measur’d all your actions.

_Lov._ I make answer,
And aptly, with a question. Wherefore have you,
That, since your husband’s death, have liv’d a strict
And chaste nun’s life, on the sudden given yourself 235
To visits and entertainments? Think you, madam,
’Tis not grown public conference?[4092] Or the favours
Which you too prodigally have thrown on Wellborn,
Being too reserv’d before, incur not censure?

_L. All._ I am innocent here; and, on my life, I swear 240
My ends are good.

_Lov._ On my soul, so are mine
To Margaret; but leave both to the event:
And since this friendly privacy does serve
But as an offer’d means unto ourselves,
To search each other farther, you having shewn
Your care of me, I my respect to you, 245
Deny me not, but still in chaste words, madam,
An afternoon’s discourse.

_L. All._ So I shall hear you. [_Exeunt._]

SCENE II.[4093]

[_Enter_] TAPWELL, _and_ FROTH.

_Tap._ Undone, undone! this was your counsel, Froth.

_Froth._ Mine! I defy thee. Did not Master Marrall
(He has marr’d all, I am sure) strictly command us,
On pain of Sir Giles Overreach’ displeasure,
To turn the gentleman out of doors?

_Tap._ ’Tis true; 5
But now he’s his uncle’s darling, and has got
Master Justice Greedy, since he fill’d his belly,
At his commandment, to do anything.
Woe, woe to us!

_Froth._ He may prove merciful. 9

_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 Wellborn no man would believe him,
And then his information could not hurt us;
But now he is right worshipful again, 15
Who dares but doubt his testimony? Methinks,
I see thee, Froth, already in a cart,
For a close[4094] bawd, thine eyes ev’n pelted out
With dirt and rotten eggs; and my hand hissing
If I scape the halter, with the letter R[4095] 20
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 summon’d all his creditors by the drum, 25
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 ’t is very likely
He shall be chronicled for it!

_Froth._ He deserves it
More than ten pageants. But are you sure his worship 30
Comes this way, to my lady’s?

_A cry within_: Brave Master Wellborn!

_Tap._ Yes:—I hear him.

_Froth._ Be ready with your petition and present it
To his good grace.

_Enter_ WELLBORN _in a rich habit_, [MARRALL,] GREEDY, ORDER, FURNACE, _and_ Creditors; TAPWELL _kneeling, delivers his bill of debt._

_Well._ How’s this? Petition’d to?
But note what miracles the payment of
A little trash, and a rich suit of clothes, 35
Can work upon these rascals! I shall be,
I think, Prince Wellborn.

_Mar._ When your worship’s married,
You may be—I know what I hope to see you.

_Well._ Then look thou for advancement.

_Mar._ To be known
Your worship’s bailiff, is the mark I shoot at.

_Well._ And thou shalt hit it.

_Mar._ Pray you, sir, despatch 41
These needy followers, and for my admittance,[4096]
Provided you ’ll defend me from Sir Giles,
Whose service I am weary of, I ’ll say something
You shall give thanks for.

_Well._ Fear me not Sir Giles.[4097] 45

_Greedy._ Who, Tapwell? I remember thy wife brought me
Last new-year’s tide, a couple of fat turkeys.

_Tap._ And shall do every Christmas, let your worship
But stand my friend now.

_Greedy._ How! with Master Wellborn?
I can do anything with him on such terms.—
See you this honest couple; they are good souls 51
As ever drew out faucet; have they not
A pair of honest faces?

_Well._ I o’erheard you,
And the bribe he promis’d. You are cozen’d in them;
For, by all the scum that grew rich by my riots,
This, for a most unthankful knave, and this, 55
For a base bawd and whore, have worst deserv’d 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 license, 60
And, at the next fair, I ’ll give you a yoke of oxen
Worth all his poultry.

_Greedy._ I am chang’d 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 archknave? His very countenance, 65
Should an understanding judge but look upon him,
Would hang him, though he were innocent.

_Tap. Froth._ Worshipful sir.

_Greedy._ No, though the great Turk came, instead of turkeys,
To beg my favour, I am inexorable.
Thou hast an ill name: besides thy musty ale, 70
That hath destroy’d 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, 75
For which gross fault I here do damn thy license,
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?

_Greedy._ Vanish! 80
If I shew any, may my promis’d oxen gore me!

_Tap._ Unthankful knaves are ever so rewarded.
_Exeunt_ GREEDY, TAPWELL, _and_ FROTH.

_Well._ Speak, what are you?

_1 Cred._ A decay’d vintner, sir,
That might have thriv’d, but that your worship broke me
With trusting you with muscadine[4098] and eggs,
And five pound suppers, with your after drinkings, 85
When you lodg’d upon the Bankside.

_Well._ I remember.

_1 Cred._ I have not been hasty, nor e’er laid to arrest you;
And therefore, sir——

_Well._ Thou art an honest fellow,
I’ll set thee up again; see his bill paid.— 90
What are you?

_2 Cred._ A tailor once, but now mere botcher.[4099]
I gave you credit for a suit of clothes,
Which was all my stock, but you failing in payment,
I was remov’d from the shopboard, and confin’d
Under a stall.

_Well._ See him paid;—and botch no more. 95

_2 Cred._ I ask no interest, sir.

_Well._ Such tailors need not;
If their bills are paid in one and twenty year,
They are seldom losers.—O, I know thy face, [_To_ Creditor.]
Thou wert 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! 101
He’ll prove a brave master; my good lady knew
To choose a man.

_Well._ See all men else discharg’d;
And since old debts are clear’d by a new way,
A little bounty will not misbecome me; 105
There’s something, honest cook, for thy good breakfasts;
And this, for your respect: [_to_ ORDER] take’t, ’t is good gold,
And I able to spare it.

_Ord._ You are too munificent.

_Furn._ He was ever so.

_Well._ Pray you, on before.

_3 Cred._ Heaven bless you!

_Mar._ At four o’clock; the rest know where to meet me. 110
_Exeunt_ ORDER, FURNACE, _and_ Creditors.

_Well._ Now, Master Marrall, what’s the weighty secret
You promis’d 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 115
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) 120
When you were defeated[4100] of it.

_Well._ That’s forgiven.

_Mar._ I shall deserve’t. Then urge him to produce
The deed in which you pass’d it over to him,
Which I know he’ll have about him, to deliver
To the Lord Lovell, with many other writings, 125
And present monies; I’ll instruct you further,
As I wait on your worship. If I play not my prize
To your full content, and your uncle’s much vexation,
Hang up Jack Marrall.

_Well._ I rely upon thee. _Exeunt._

SCENE III.[4101]

_Enter_ ALLWORTH _and_ MARGARET.

_All._ Whether to yield the first praise to my lord’s
Unequall’d temperance or your constant sweetness
That I yet live, my weak hands fasten’d on
Hope’s anchor, spite of all storms of despair,
I yet rest doubtful.

_Marg._ Give it to Lord Lovell: 5
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 regist’red,
Are faithful witnesses.

_All._ ’T is true, my dearest:
Yet, when I call to mind how many fair ones 10
Make wilful shipwrecks of their faiths, and oaths
To God and man, to fill the arms of greatness,
And you rise up [no][4102] less than a glorious star,
To the amazement of the world,—hold out
Against the stern authority of a father, 15
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 pleas’d to do me.

_Marg._ Yet, and ever.
To me what’s title, when content is wanting? 20
Or wealth, rak’d up together with much care.
And to be kept with more, when the heart pines
In being dispossess’d of what it longs for
Beyond the Indian mines? or the smooth brow
Of a pleas’d sire, that slaves me to his will, 25
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?

_All._ But the dangers
That follow the repulse——

_Marg._ To me they are nothing; 30
Let Allworth love, I cannot be unhappy.
Suppose the worst, that, in his rage, he kill me,
A tear or two, by you dropt on my hearse
In sorrow for my fate, will call back life
So far as but to say, that I die yours; 35
I then shall rest in peace: or should he prove
So cruel, as one death would not suffice
His thirst of vengeance, but with ling’ring torments
In mind and body I must waste to air,
In poverty join’d with banishment; so you share 40
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.

_All._ Heaven avert
Such trials of your true affection to me! 45
Nor will it unto you, that are all mercy,
Shew so much rigour: but since we must run
Such desperate hazards, let us do our best
To steer between them.

_Marg._ Your lord’s ours, and sure:
And, though but a young actor, second me 50
In doing to the life what he has plotted.
_Enter_ OVERREACH [_behind_].
The end may yet prove happy. Now, my Allworth—
[_Seeing her father_.]

_All._ 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, 55
He does solicit me, I shall gladly hear him.
But in this peremptory, nay, commanding way,
To 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 60
In his lordship will deceive him.

_All._ 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 kneel’d for my favor, 65
I can grant nothing.

_Over._ I like this obedience: [_Comes forward._]
But whatso’er my lord writes, must and shall be
Accepted and embrac’d. Sweet Master Allworth,
You shew yourself a true and faithful servant
To your good lord; he has a jewel of you. 70
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.

_Over._ (_reads._) “Fair mistress, from your servant learn all joys
That we can hope for, if deferr’d, prove toys;[4103]
Therefore this instant, and in private, meet 76
A husband, that will gladly at your feet
Lay down his honours, tend’ring them to you
With all content, the church being paid her due.”
—Is this the arrogant piece of paper? Fool! 80
Will you still be one? In the name of madness what
Could his good honour write more to content you?
Is there aught else to be wish’d, after these two,
That are already offer’d; marriage first,
And lawful pleasure after: what would you more? 85

_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.

_All._ An ’t please your honour,
For so before to-morrow I must style you, 90
My lord desires this privacy, in respect
His honourable kinsmen are afar off,
And his desires to have it done brook not
So long delay as to expect[4104] their coming;
And yet he stands resolv’d, with all due pomp, 95
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.

_Over._ He tells you true: ’t is the fashion, on my knowledge:
Yet the good lord, to please your peevishness, 100
Must put it off, forsooth! and lose a night,
In which perhaps he might get two boys on thee.
Tempt me no further, if you do, this goad [_Points to his sword._]
Shall prick you to him.

_Marg._ I could be contented,
Were you but by, to do a father’s part, 105
And give me in the church.

_Over._ 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 Allworth, how my lord
May be provided, and therefore there’s a purse 110
Of gold, ’t will 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 benefic’d
At my manor of Gotham, and call’d Parson Willdo.
’T is no matter for a licence, I ’ll bear him out in ’t; 115

_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 refus’d
Were such a stain upon me!—If you pleas’d, sir,
Your presence would do better.

_Over._ Still perverse! 120
I say again, I will not cross my lord;
Yet I ’ll prevent[4105] you too.—Paper and ink, there!

_All._ I can furnish you.

_Over._ I thank you, I can write then.
_Writes on his book._

_All._ You may, if you please, put out the name of my lord,
In respect he comes disguis’d, and only write, 125
“Marry her to this gentleman.”

_Over._ Well advis’d.
’T is done; away;—(MARGARET _kneels._) My blessing, girl?
Thou hast it.
Nay, no reply, be gone.—Good Master Allworth,
This shall be the best night’s work you ever made.

_All._ I hope so, sir. 130

_Exeunt_ ALLWORTH _and_ MARGARET.

_Over._ 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 to-night? or, will her honour please 135
To accept this monkey, dog, or paraquit[4106]
(This is state in ladies), or my eldest son
To be her page, and wait upon her trencher?
My ends, my ends are compass’d!—then for Wellborn
And the lands: were he once married to the widow, 140
I have him here.—I can scarce contain myself,
I am so full of joy, nay, joy all over. _Exit._