Chapter CXXVIII: Act V: Scene I.4107

[_Enter_ LORD] LOVELL, LADY ALLWORTH, _and_ AMBLE.

_L. All._ 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 down-trod Wellborn. 5
Nor shall I e’er repent, although I suffer
In some few men’s opinions for ’t, the action:
For he that ventur’d all for my dear husband
Might justly claim an obligation from me
To pay him such a courtesy; which had I 10
Coyly or over-curiously[4108] denied,
It might have argu’d me of little love
To the deceas’d.

_Lov._ What you intended, madam,
For the poor gentleman hath found good success;
For, as I understand, his debts are paid, 15
And he once more furnished for fair employment:
But all the arts that I have us’d to raise
The fortunes of your joy and mine, young Allworth,
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, 21
On my knowledge, they are equal.

_L. All._ 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 25
In his proceedings, were a work beyond
The strongest undertakers; not the trial
Of two weak innocents.

_Lov._ Despair not, madam:
Hard things are compass’d oft by easy means;
And judgment, being a gift deriv’d from Heaven, 30
Though sometimes lodg’d i’ th’ 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 35
The counsels of all kingdoms on the earth,
Is by simplicity oft over-reach’d.

_L. All._ May he be so! Yet, in his name to express it,
Is a good omen.

_Lov._ May it to myself
Prove so, good lady, in my suit to you! 40
What think you of the motion?

_L. All._ Troth, my lord,
My own unworthiness may answer for me;
For had you, when that I was in my prime,
My virgin flower uncropp’d, presented me
With this great favour; looking on my lowness
Not in a glass of self-love, but of truth, 46
I could not but have thought it as a blessing
Far, far beyond my merit.

_Lov._ You are too modest,
And undervalue that which is above
My title, or whatever I call mine. 50
I grant, were I a Spaniard, to marry
A widow might disparage me; but being
A true-born Englishman, I cannot find
How it can taint my honour: nay, what ’s more,
That which you think a blemish is to me 55
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 60
That you were to your Allworth: in a word,
Our years, our states, our births are not unequal,
You being descended nobly, and alli’d so;
If then you may be won to make me happy,
But join your lips to mine, and that shall be 65
A solemn contract.

_L. All._ I were blind to my own good
Should I refuse it; [_kisses him_] yet, my lord, receive me
As such a one, the study of whose whole life
Shall know no other object but to please you.

_Lov._ If I return not, with all tenderness, 70
Equal respect to you, may I die wretched!

_L. All._ There needs no protestation, my lord.
To her that cannot doubt,—
_Enter_ WELLBORN [_handsomely apparelled_.]
You are welcome, sir.
Now you look like yourself.

_Well._ And will continue
Such in my free acknowledgment that I am 75
Your creature, madam, and will never hold
My life mine own, when you please to command it.

_Lov._ It is a thankfulness that well becomes you.
You could not make choice of a better shape
To dress your mind in.

_L. All._ For me, I am happy 80
That my endeavours prosper’d. Saw you of late
Sir Giles, your uncle?

_Well._ I heard of him, madam,
By his minister, Marrall; he ’s grown into strange passions
About his daughter. This last night he look’d for
Your lordship at his house, but missing you, 85
And she not yet appearing, his wise head
Is much perplex’d and troubl’d.

_Lov._ It may be,
Sweetheart, my project took.

_L. All._ I strongly hope.

_Over._ [_within._] Ha! find her, booby, thou huge lump of nothing,
I ’ll bore thine eyes out else.

_Well._ May it please your lordship, 90
For some ends of mine own, but to withdraw
A little out of sight, though not of hearing,
You may, perhaps, have sport.

_Lov._ You shall direct me. _Steps aside._

_Enter_ OVERREACH, _with distracted looks, driving in_ MARRALL _before him_ [_with a box_].[4109]

_Over._ I shall _sol fa_ you, rogue!

_Mar._ Sir, for what cause
Do you use me thus?

_Over._ Cause, slave! Why, I am angry, 95
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 hast slept in my cabinet these three years,
I ’ll rack thy soul for ’t.

_Mar._ (_Aside._) I may yet cry quittance, 100
Though now I suffer, and dare not resist.

_Over._ 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, 105
See your ladyship be on her left hand, and make courtesies
When she nods on you; which you must receive
As a special favour.

_L. All._ When I know, Sir Giles,
Her state requires such ceremony, I shall pay it;
But in the meantime, as I am myself, 110
I give you to understand, I neither know
Nor care where her honour is.

_Over._ When you once see her
Supported, and led by the lord her husband,
You ’ll be taught better.——Nephew.

_Well._ Sir.

_Over._ No more?

_Well._ ’T is all I owe you.

_Over._ Have your redeem’d rags 115
Made you thus insolent?

_Well._ (_in scorn._) Insolent to you!
Why, what are you, sir, unless in your years,
At the best, more than myself?

_Over._ [_Aside._] His fortune swells him.
’T is rank[4110] he ’s married.

_L. All._ This is excellent!

_Over._ Sir, in calm language, though I seldom use it, 120
I am familiar with the cause that makes you
Bear up thus bravely; there ’s a certain buzz
Of a stol’n marriage, do you hear? of a stol’n marriage,
In which, ’t is said, there ’s somebody hath been cozen’d;
I name no parties.

_Well._ Well, sir, and what follows? 125

_Over._ 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, by mortgage or by statute, 129
Of some of your new possessions, or I ’ll have you
Dragg’d in your lavender robes[4111] to the goal. You know me,
And therefore do not trifle.

_Well._ 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?”

_Over._ End me no ends! Engage the whole estate, 136
And force your spouse to sign it, you shall have
Three or four thousand more, to roar and swagger
And revel in bawdy taverns.

_Well._ And beg after;
Mean you not so?

_Over._ My thoughts are mine, and free. 140
Shall I have security?

_Well._ No, indeed, you shall not,
Nor bond, nor bill, nor bare acknowledgment;
Your great looks fright not me.

_Over._ But my deeds shall.
Outbrav’d! _Both draw._

_L. All._ Help, murder! murder!

_Enter_ Servants.

_Well._ Let him come on.
With all his wrongs and injuries about him, 145
Arm’d with his cut-throat practices to guard him;
The right that I bring with me will defend me,
And punish his extortion.

_Over._ That I had thee
But single in the field!

_L. All._ You may; but make not
My house your quarrelling scene.

_Over._ Were ’t in a church, 150
By Heaven and Hell, I ’ll do ’t!

_Mar._ Now put him to
The shewing of the deed. [_Aside to_ WELLBORN.]

_Well._ 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, 155
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.

_Over._ I in thy debt! O impudence! did I not purchase 160
The land left by thy father, that rich land,
That had continued in Wellborn’s name
Twenty descents; which, like a riotous fool,
Thou didst make sale of it? Is not here inclos’d
The deed that does confirm it mine?

_Mar._ Now, now! 165

_Well._ I do acknowledge none; I ne’er pass’d o’er
Any such land. I grant for a year or two
You had it in trust; which if you do discharge,
Surrend’ring the possession, you shall ease
Yourself and me of chargeable suits in law, 170
Which, if you prove not honest, as I doubt it,
Must of necessity follow.

_L. All._ In my judgment,
He does advise you well.

_Over._ Good! good! Conspire
With your new husband, lady; second him
In his dishonest practices; but when 175
This manor is extended[4112] to my use,
You ’ll speak in humbler key, and sue for favour.

_L. All._ Never: do not hope it.

_Well._ Let despair first seize me.

_Over._ Yet, to shut up thy mouth, and make thee give
Thyself the lie, the loud lie, I draw out 180
The precious evidence; if thou canst forswear
Thy hand and seal, and make a forfeit of
_Opens the box_ [_and displays the bond_].
Thy ears to the pillory, see! here ’s that will make
My interest clear—ha!

_L. All._ A fair skin of parchment.

_Well._ Indented, I confess, and labels too; 185
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?

_Over._ I am o’erwhelm’d with wonder!
What prodigy is this? What subtle devil 190
Hath raz’d out the inscription, the wax
Turn’d into dust? The rest of my deeds whole
As when they were deliver’d, and this only
Made nothing! Do you deal with witches, rascal?
There is a statute[4113] for you, which will bring 195
Your neck in an hempen circle; yes, there is;
And now ’t is better thought for, cheater, know
This juggling shall not save you.

_Well._ To save thee
Would beggar the stock of mercy.

_Over._ Marrall!

_Mar._ Sir.

_Over._ (_flattering him._) Though the witnesses are dead,
your testimony 200
Help with an oath or two: and for thy master,
Thy liberal master, my good honest servant,
I know thou wilt swear anything, to dash
This cunning sleight: besides, I know thou art
A public notary, and such stand in law 205
For a dozen witnesses: the deed being drawn too
By thee, my careful Marrall, and deliver’d
When thou wert present, will make good my title.
Wilt thou not swear this?

_Mar._ I! No, I assure you: 209
I have a conscience not sear’d up like yours;
I know no deeds.

_Over._ Wilt thou betray me?

_Mar._ Keep him
From using of his hands, I ’ll use my tongue,
To his no little torment.

_Over._ Mine own varlet
Rebel against me!

_Mar._ Yes, and uncase[4114] you too.
“The idiot, the patch, the slave, the booby, 215
The property fit only to be beaten
For your morning exercise,” your “football,” or
“Th’ unprofitable lump of flesh,” your “drudge,”
Can now anatomise you, and lay open 219
All your black plots, and level with the earth
Your hill of pride, and, with these gabions[4115] guarded
Unload my great artillery, and shake,
Nay pulverize, the walls you think defend you.

_L. All._ How he foams at the mouth with rage!

_Well._ To him again.

_Over._ O that I had thee in my gripe, I would tear thee 225
Joint after joint!

_Mar._ I know you are a tearer,
But I ’ll have first your fangs par’d off, and then
Come nearer to you; when I have discover’d,[4116]
And made it good before the judge, what ways
And devilish practices you us’d to cozen 230
With an army of whole families, who yet live,
And, but enroll’d for soldiers, were able
To take in[4117] Dunkirk.

_Well._ All will come out.

_L. All._ The better.

_Over._ But that I will live, rogue, to torture thee, 234
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.

_Lov._ (_Aside._) Heaven’s hand is in this;
One bandog[4118] worry the other!

_Over._ I play the fool,
And make my anger but ridiculous; 240
There will be a time and place, there will be, cowards,
When you shall feel what I dare do.

_Well._ I think so:
You dare do any ill, yet want true valour
To be honest, and repent.

_Over._ They are words I know not,
Nor e’er will learn. Patience, the beggar’s virtue, 245
_Enter_ GREEDY _and_ PARSON WILLDO.
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.

_Willdo._ Married! Yes I assure you. 250

_Over._ Then vanish all sad thoughts! There ’s more gold for thee.
My doubts and fears are in the titles drown’d
Of my honourable, my right honourable daughter.

_Greedy._ Here will[4119] be feasting! At least for a month
I am provided: empty guts, croak no more. 255
You shall be stuff’d like bagpipes, not with wind,
But bearing[4120] dishes.

_Over._ Instantly be here? (_Whispering to_ WILLDO.)
To my wish! to my wish! Now you that plot against me,
And hop’d to trip my heels up, that contemn’d me,
Think on ’t and tremble.—(_Loud music_)—They come!
I hear the music. 260
A lane there for my lord!

_Well._ This sudden heat
May yet be cool’d, sir.

_Over._ Make way there for my lord!

_Enter_ ALLWORTH _and_ MARGARET.

_Marg._ Sir, first your pardon, then your blessing, with
Your full allowance of the choice I have made.
As ever you could make use of your reason, _Kneeling._ 265
Grow not in passion; since you may as well
Call back the day that ’s past, as untie the knot
Which is too strongly fasten’d. Not to dwell
Too long on words, this is my husband.

_Over._ How! 269

_All._ So I assure you; all the rites of marriage,
With every circumstance, are past. Alas! sir,
Although I am no lord, but a lord’s page,
Your daughter and my lov’d wife mourns not for it:
And, for right honourable son-in-law, you may say,
Your dutiful daughter.

_Over._ Devil! are they married? 275

_Willdo._ Do a father’s part, and say, “Heaven give ’em joy!”

_Over._ Confusion and ruin! Speak, and speak quickly,
Or thou art dead.

_Willdo._ They are married.

_Over._ Thou hadst better
Have made a contract with the king of fiends,
Than these:—my brain turns!

_Willdo._ Why this rage to me? 280
Is not this your letter, sir, and these the words?
“Marry her to this gentleman.”

_Over._ It cannot—
Nor will I e’er believe it; ’sdeath! I will not;
That I, that in all passages I touch’d
At worldly profit have not left a print 285
Where I have trod for the most curious search
To trace my footsteps, should be gull’d by children,
Baffl’d and fool’d, and all my hopes and labours
Defeated and made void.

_Well._ As it appears,
You are so, my grave uncle.

_Over._ Village nurses 290
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.

_Lov._ [_coming forward._] Hold, for your own sake!
Though charity to your daughter hath quite left you, 295
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 cross’d.

_Over._ Lord! thus I spit at thee, 300
And at thy counsel; and again desire thee,
And as thou art a soldier, if thy valour
Dares shew itself where multitude and example
Lead not the way, let’s quit the house, and change
Six words in private.

_Lov._ I am ready.

_L. All._ Stay, sir, 305
Contest with one distracted!

_Well._ You ’ll grow like him,
Should you answer his vain challenge.

_Over._ Are you pale?
Borrow his help, though Hercules call it odds,
I ’ll stand against both as I am, hemm’d in thus.
Since, like a Libyan lion in the toil, 310
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, 315
What I have spoke I will make good!) or leave
One throat uncut,—if it be possible,
Hell, add to my afflictions! _Exit._

_Mar._ Is ’t not brave sport?

_Greedy._ Brave sport! I am sure it has ta’en away my stomach;
I do not like the sauce.

_All._ Nay, weep not, dearest, 320
Though it express your pity; what ’s decreed
Above, we cannot alter.

_L. All._ His threats move me
No scruple, madam.

_Mar._ Was it not a rare trick
An it please your worship, to make the deed nothing?
I can do twenty neater, if you please 325
To purchase and grow rich, for I will be
Such a solicitor and steward for you,
As never worshipful had.

_Well._ I do believe thee;
But first discover the quaint[4121] means you us’d
To raze out the conveyance?

_Mar._ They are mysteries 330
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; but that was the inducement 334
To this conundrum. If it please your worship
To call to memory, this mad beast once caus’d me
To urge you or to drown or hang yourself;
I ’ll do the like to him, if you command me.

_Well._ You are a rascal! He that dares be false 339
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 ears; howe’er, I will take order
Your practice shall be silenc’d.

_Greedy._ I ’ll commit him, 345
If you ’ll have me, sir.

_Well._ That were to little purpose;
His conscience be his prison. Not a word,
But instantly be gone.

_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 350
False servants still arrive at. _Exit._

_Re-enter_ OVERREACH.

_L. All._ Come again!

_Lov._ Fear not, I am your guard.

_Well._ His looks are ghastly.

_Willdo._ Some little time I have spent, under your favours,
In physical studies, and if my judgment err not,
He ’s mad beyond recovery: but observe him,
And look to yourselves.

_Over._ Why, is not the whole world
Included in myself? To what use then 357
Are friends and servants? Say there were a squadron
Of pikes, lin’d 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,
_Flourishing his sword sheathed._[4122]
I ’ll fall to execution—Ha! I am feeble: 362
Some undone widow sits upon mine arm,
And takes away the use of ’t; and my sword,
Glu’d to my scabbard with wronged orphans’ tears, 365
Will not be drawn. Ha! what are these? Sure, hangmen
That come to bind my hands, and then to drag me
Before the judgment-seat: now they are new shapes,
And do appear like Furies, with steel whips 369
To scourge my ulcerous soul. Shall I then fall
Ingloriously, and yield? No; spite of Fate,
I will be forc’d to hell like to myself.
Though you were legions of accursed spirits,
Thus would I fly among you.
[_Rushes forward and flings himself on the ground._]

_Well._ There ’s no help;
Disarm him first, then bind him.

_Greedy._ Take a _mittimus_.[4123] 375
And carry him to Bedlam.

_Lov._ How he foams!

_Well._ And bites the earth!

_Willdo._ Carry him to some dark room,
There try what art can do for his recovery.

_Marg._ O my dear father! _They force_ OVERREACH _off._

_All._ You must be patient, mistress.

_Lov._ Here is a precedent to teach wicked men 380
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 Wellborn,
Be it good or ill in law, I ’ll be an umpire 385
Between you, and this, th’ undoubted heir
Of Sir Giles Overreach. For me, here ’s the anchor
That I must fix on.

_All._ What you shall determine,
My lord, I will allow of.

_Well._ ’T is the language 389
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 ’t was lost
In my loose course, and until I redeem it
Some noble way, I am but half made up. 395
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.

_Lov._ Your suit is granted 400
And you lov’d for the motion.

_Well._ [_coming forward._] Nothing wants then
But your allowance—

THE EPILOGUE

But your allowance, and in that our all
Is comprehended; it being known, nor we,
Nor he that wrote the comedy, can be free 405
Without your manumission; which if you
Grant willingly, as a fair favour due
To the poet’s 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. [_Exeunt._] 411

THE BROKEN HEART

BY JOHN FORD

THE SPEAKERS’ NAMES FITTED TO THEIR QUALITIES

AMYCLAS, _Common to the Kings of Laconia_.
ITHOCLES, _Honour of loveliness_, a Favourite.
ORGILUS, _Angry_, son to Crotolon.
BASSANES, _Vexation_, a jealous Nobleman.
ARMOSTES, _an Appeaser_, a Councillor of State.
CROTOLON, _Noise_, another Councillor.
PROPHILUS, _Dear_, Friend to Ithocles.
NEARCHUS, _Young Prince_, Prince of Argos.
TECNICUS, _Artist_, a Philosopher.
HEMOPHIL, _Glutton_, }
GRONEAS, _Tavern-haunter_,} two Courtiers.
AMELUS, _Trusty_, Friend to Nearchus.
PHULAS, _Watchful_, Servant to Bassanes.
Lords, Courtiers, Officers, Attendants, etc.

CALANTHA, _Flower of beauty_, the King’s Daughter.
PENTHEA, _Complaint_, Sister to Ithocles [and Wife to Bassanes].
EUPHRANEA, _Joy_, a Maid of honour [Daughter to Crotolon].
CHRISTALLA, _Christal_, }
PHILEMA, _A Kiss_, } Maids of honour.
GRAUSIS,[4124] _Old Beldam_, Overseer of Penthea.

PERSONS INCLUDED.

THRASUS, _Fierceness_, Father of Ithocles.
APLOTES, _Simplicity_, Orgilus so disguised.

SCENE—_Sparta_.