Chapter IV: Act III: Scene I

WITGOOD’S _Lodging_.

_Enter_ WITGOOD _and Three Creditors_.
WIT. Why, alas, my creditors, could you find no other
time to undo me but now? rather your malice appears in
this than the justness of the debt.
FIRST C. Master Witgood, I have forborne my money long.
WIT. I pray, speak low, sir: what do you mean?
SEC. C. We hear you are to be married suddenly to a rich
country widow.
WIT. What can be kept so close but you creditors hear
on’t! well, ’tis a lamentable state, that our chiefest
afflictors should first hear of our fortunes. Why, this
is no good course, i’faith, sirs: if ever you have hope
to be satisfied, why do you seek to confound the means
that should work it? there’s neither piety, no, nor
policy in that. Shine favourably now: why, I may rise
and spread again, to your great comforts.
FIRST C. He says true, i’faith.
WIT. Remove me[60] now, and I consume for ever.
SEC. C. Sweet gentleman!
WIT. How can it thrive which from the sun you sever?
THIRD. C. It cannot, indeed.
WIT. O, then, shew patience! I shall have enough
To satisfy you all.
FIRST C. Ay, if we could
Be content, a shame take us!
WIT. For, look you;
I am but newly sure yet to[61] the widow,
And what a rend might this discredit make!
Within these three days will I bind you lands
For your securities.
FIRST C. No, good master Witgood:
Would ’twere as much as we dare trust you with!
WIT. I know you have been kind; however, now,
Either by wrong report, or false incitement,
Your gentleness is injured: in such
A state as this a man cannot want foes.
If on the sudden he begin to rise,
No man that lives can count his enemies.
You had some intelligence, I warrant ye,
From an ill-willer.
SEC. C. Faith, we heard you brought up a rich widow,
sir, and were suddenly to marry her.
WIT. Ay, why there it was: I knew ’twas so: but since
you are so well resolved[62] of my faith toward you, let
me be so much favoured of you, I beseech you all——
ALL. O, it shall not need, i’faith, sir!——
WIT. As to lie still awhile, and bury my debts in
silence, till I be fully possessed of the widow; for the
truth is—I may tell you as my friends—
ALL. O, O, O!——
WIT. I am to raise a little money in the city, toward
the setting forth of myself, for mine own credit and
your comfort; now, if my former debts should be
divulged, all hope of my proceedings were quite
extinguished.
FIRST C. Do you hear, sir? I may deserve your custom
hereafter; pray, let my money be accepted before a
stranger’s: here’s forty pound I received as I came to
you; if that may stand you in any stead, make use on’t.
[_Offers him money, which he at first declines._] Nay,
pray, sir; ’tis at your service. [_Aside to_ WITGOOD.
WIT. You do so ravish me with kindness, that I am[63]
constrain’d to play the maid, and take it.
FIRST C. Let none of them see it, I beseech you.
WIT. Faugh!
FIRST C. I hope I shall be first in your remembrance
After the marriage rites.
WIT. Believe it firmly.
FIRST C. So.—What, do you walk, sirs?
SEC. C. I go.—Take no care, sir, for money to furnish
you; within this hour I’ll send you sufficient. [_Aside
to_ WITGOOD.]—Come, master Cockpit, we both stay for
you.
THIRD C. I ha’ lost a ring, i’faith; I’ll follow you
presently: [_exeunt First and Second Creditors_]—but you
shall find it, sir; I know your youth and expenses have
disfurnished you of all jewels: there’s a ruby of twenty
pound price, sir; bestow it upon your widow. [_Offers
him the ring, which he at first declines._]—What, man!
’twill call up her blood to you; beside, if I might so
much work with you, I would not have you beholding[64]
to those bloodsuckers for any money.
WIT. Not I, believe it.
THIRD C. They’re a brace of cut-throats.
WIT. I know ’em.
THIRD C. Send a note of all your wants to my shop, and
I’ll supply you instantly.
WIT. Say you so? why, here’s my hand then, no man living
shall do’t but thyself.
THIRD C. Shall I carry it away from ’em both, then?
WIT. I’faith, shalt thou.
THIRD C. Troth, then, I thank you, sir.
WIT. Welcome, good master Cockpit. [_Exit Third
Creditor._]—Ha, ha, ha! why, is not this better now than
lying a-bed? I perceive there’s nothing conjures up wit
sooner than poverty, and nothing lays it down sooner
than wealth and lechery: this has some savour yet. O
that I had the mortgage from mine uncle as sure in
possession as these trifles! I would forswear brothel at
noonday, and muscadine and eggs at midnight.
COURT. [_within_] Master Witgood, where are you?
WIT. Holla!

_Enter Courtesan._

COURT. Rich news!
WIT. Would ’twere all in plate!
COURT. There’s some in chains and jewels: I am so
haunted with suitors, master Witgood, I know not which
to despatch first.
WIT. You have the better term,[65] by my faith.
COURT. Among the number
One master Hoard, an ancient gentleman.
WIT. Upon my life, my uncle’s adversary.
COURT. It may well hold so, for he rails on you,
Speaks shamefully of him.
WIT. As I could wish it.
COURT. I first denied him, but so cunningly,
It rather promis’d him assured hopes,
Than any loss of labour.
WIT. Excellent!
COURT. I expect him every hour with gentlemen,
With whom he labours to make good his words,
To approve you riotous, your state consum’d,
Your uncle——
WIT. Wench, make up thy own fortunes now; do thyself a
good turn once in thy days: he’s rich in money,
movables, and lands; marry him: he’s an old doating
fool, and that’s worth all; marry him: ’twould be a
great comfort to me to see thee do well, i’faith; marry
him: ’twould ease my conscience well to see thee well
bestowed; I have a care of thee, i’faith.
COURT. Thanks, sweet master Witgood.
WIT. I reach at farther happiness: first, I am sure it
can be no harm to thee, and there may happen goodness to
me by it: prosecute it well; let’s send up for our wits,
now we require their best and most pregnant assistance.
COURT. Step in, I think I hear ’em. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ HOARD _and Gentlemen, with the Host as Servant_.

HOA. Art thou the widow’s man? by my faith, sh’as a
company of proper men then.
HOST. I am the worst of six, sir; good enough for blue
coats.[66]
HOA. Hark hither: I hear say thou art in most credit
with her.
HOST. Not so, sir.
HOA. Come, come, thou’rt modest: there’s a brace of
royals;[67] prithee, help me to th’ speech of her.
[_Gives him money._
HOST. I’ll do what I may, sir, always saving myself
harmless.
HOA. Go to, do’t, I say; thou shalt hear better from me.
HOST. Is not this a better place than five mark a-year
standing wages? Say a man had but three such clients in
a day, methinks he might make a poor living on’t;
beside, I was never brought up with so little honesty to
refuse any man’s money; never: what gulls there are a’
this side the world! now know I the widow’s mind; none
but my young master comes in her clutches: ha, ha, ha!
[_Aside, and exit._
HOA. Now, my dear gentlemen, stand firmly to me;
You know his follies and my worth.
FIRST G. We do, sir.
SEC. G. But, master Hoard, are you sure he is not i’ th’
house now?
HOA. Upon my honesty, I chose this time
A’ purpose, fit: the spendthrift is abroad:
Assist me; here she comes.

_Enter Courtesan._

Now, my sweet widow.
COURT. You’re welcome, master Hoard.
HOA. Despatch, sweet gentlemen, despatch.—
I am come, widow, to prove those my words
Neither of envy sprung nor of false tongues,
But such as their[68] deserts and actions
Do merit and bring forth; all which these gentlemen,
Well known, and better reputed, will confess.
COURT. I cannot tell
How my affections may dispose of me;
But surely if they find him so desertless,
They’ll have that reason to withdraw themselves:
And therefore, gentlemen, I do entreat you,
As you are fair in reputation
And in appearing form, so shine in truth:
I am a widow, and, alas, you know,
Soon overthrown! ’tis a very small thing
That we withstand, our weakness is so great:
Be partial unto neither, but deliver,
Without affection, your opinion.
HOA. And that will drive it home.
COURT. Nay, I beseech your silence, master Hoard;
You are a party.
HOA. Widow, not a word.
FIRST G. The better first to work you to belief,
Know neither of us owe him flattery,
Nor t’other malice; but unbribed censure,[69]
So help us our best fortunes![70]
COURT. It suffices.
FIRST G. That Witgood is a riotous, undone man,
Imperfect both in fame and in estate,
His debts wealthier than he, and executions
In wait for his due body, we’ll maintain
With our best credit and our dearest blood.
COURT. Nor land nor living, say you? Pray, take heed
You do not wrong the gentleman.
FIRST G. What we speak
Our lives and means are ready to make good.
COURT. Alas, how soon are we poor souls beguil’d!
[_Aside to Gent._
SEC. G. And for his uncle——
HOA. Let that come to me.
His uncle[’s] a severe extortioner;
A tyrant at a forfeiture; greedy of others’
Miseries; one that would undo his brother,
Nay, swallow up his father, if he can,
Within the fathoms of his conscience.
FIRST G. Nay, believe it, widow,
You had not only match’d yourself to wants,
But in an evil and unnatural stock.
HOA. Follow hard, gentlemen, follow hard.
COURT. Is my love so deceiv’d? Before you all
I do renounce him; on my knees I vow [_Kneeling._
He ne’er shall marry me.
WIT. [_looking in_] Heaven knows he never meant it!
[_Aside._
HOA. There, take her at the bound. [_Aside to Gent._
FIRST G. Then, with a new and pure affection
Behold yon gentleman; grave, kind, and rich,
A match worthy yourself: esteeming him,
You do regard your state.
HOA. I’ll make her a jointure, say. [_Aside to
Gent._
FIRST G. He can join land to land, and will possess
you
Of what you can desire.
SEC. G. Come, widow, come.
COURT. The world is so deceitful!
FIRST G. There ’tis deceitful,
Where flattery, want, and imperfection lie;[71]
But none of these in him: push![72]
COURT. Pray, sir——
FIRST G. Come, you widows are ever most backward when
you should do yourselves most good; but were it to marry
a chin not worth a hair now, then you would be forward
enough. Come, clap hands, a match.
HOA. With all my heart, widow. [HOARD _and Courtesan
shake hands_.]—Thanks, gentlemen:
I will deserve your labour, and [_to Courtesan_] thy
love.
COURT. Alas, you love not widows but for wealth!
I promise you I ha’ nothing, sir.
HOA. Well said, widow,
Well said; thy love is all I seek, before
These gentlemen.
COURT. Now I must hope the best.
HOA. My joys are such they want to be express’d.
COURT. But, master Hoard, one thing I must remember you
of, before these gentlemen, your friends: how shall I
suddenly avoid the loathed soliciting of that perjured
Witgood, and his tedious, dissembling uncle? who this
very day hath appointed a meeting for the same purpose
too; where, had not truth come forth, I had been undone,
utterly undone!
HOA. What think you of that, gentlemen?
FIRST G. ’Twas well devised.
HOA. Hark thee, widow: train out young Witgood single;
hasten him thither with thee, somewhat before the
hour; where, at the place appointed, these gentlemen
and myself will wait the opportunity, when, by some
slight[73] removing him from thee, we’ll suddenly
enter and surprise thee, carry thee away by boat to
Cole-Harbour,[74] have a priest ready, and there clap
it up instantly. How likest it, widow?
COURT. In that it pleaseth you, it likes[75] me well.
HOA. I’ll kiss thee for those words. [_Kisses her._]—
Come, gentlemen,
Still must I live a suitor to your favours,
Still to your aid beholding.[76]
FIRST G. We’re engag’d, sir;
’Tis for our credits now to see’t well ended.
HOA. ’Tis for your honours, gentlemen; nay, look to’t.
Not only in joy, but I in wealth excel:
No more sweet widow, but, sweet wife, farewell.
COURT. Farewell, sir.
[_Exeunt_ HOARD _and Gentlemen_.

_Re-enter_ WITGOOD.
WIT. O for more scope! I could laugh eternally! Give you
joy, mistress Hoard, I promise your fortune was good,
forsooth; you’ve fell upon wealth enough, and there’s
young gentlemen enow can help you to the rest. Now it
requires our wits: carry thyself but heedfully now, and
we are both——

_Re-enter Host._

HOST. Master Witgood, your uncle.
WIT. Cuds me! remove thyself awhile; I’ll serve for him.
[_Exeunt Courtesan and Host._

_Enter_ LUCRE.

LUC. Nephew, good morrow, nephew.
WIT. The same to you, kind uncle.
LUC. How fares the widow? does the meeting hold?
WIT. O, no question of that, sir.
LUC. I’ll strike the stroke, then, for thee; no more
days.[77]
WIT. The sooner the better, uncle. O, she’s mightily
followed!
LUC. And yet so little rumoured!
WIT. Mightily: here comes one old gentleman, and he’ll
make her a jointure of three hundred a-year, forsooth;
another wealthy suitor will estate his son in his
lifetime, and make him weigh down the widow; here a
merchant’s son will possess her with no less than three
goodly lordships at once, which were all pawns to his
father.
LUC. Peace, nephew, let me hear no more of ’em; it mads
me. Thou shalt prevent[78] ’em all. No words to the
widow of my coming hither. Let me see—’tis now upon
nine: before twelve, nephew, we will have the bargain
struck, we will, faith, boy.
WIT. O, my precious uncle! [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_A Room in_ HOARD’S _House_.

_Enter_ HOARD _and_ JOYCE.

HOA. Niece, sweet niece, prithee, have a care to my
house; I leave all to thy discretion. Be content to
dream awhile; I’ll have a husband for thee shortly: put
that care upon me, wench, for in choosing wives and
husbands I am only fortunate; I have that gift given me.
[_Exit._
JOY. But ’tis not likely you should choose for me,
Since nephew to your chiefest enemy
Is he whom I affect: but, O, forgetful!
Why dost thou flatter thy affections so,
With name of him that for a widow’s bed
Neglects thy purer love? Can it be so,
Or does report dissemble?

_Enter_ GEORGE.

How now, sir?
GEO. A letter, with which came a private charge.
JOY. Therein I thank your care. [_Exit_ GEORGE.]—I
know this hand—

[_Reads_] _Dearer than sight, what the world reports of
me, yet believe not; rumour will alter shortly: be thou
constant; I am still the same that I was in love, and I
hope to be the same in fortunes._
THEODORUS WITGOOD.

I am resolv’d:[79] no more shall fear or doubt
Raise their pale powers to keep affection out.
[_Exit._

SCENE III.

_A Tavern._

_Enter_ HOARD, _Gentlemen,[80] and Drawer_.
DRA. You’re very welcome, gentlemen.—Dick, shew those
gentlemen the Pomegranate there.
HOA. Hist!
DRA. Up those stairs, gentlemen.
HOA. Hist, drawer!
DRA. Anon, sir.
HOA. Prithee, ask at the bar if a gentlewoman came not
in lately.
DRA. William, at the bar, did you see any gentlewoman
come in lately? Speak you ay, speak you no.
[_Within._] No, none came in yet but mistress Florence.
DRA. He says none came in yet, sir, but one mistress
Florence.
HOA. What is that Florence? a widow?
DRA. Yes, a Dutch widow.[81] HOA. How?
DRA. That’s an English drab, sir: give your worship good
morrow. [_Exit._
HOA. A merry knave, i’faith! I shall remember a Dutch
widow the longest day of my life.
FIRST G. Did not I use most art to win the widow?
SEC. G. You shall pardon me for that, sir; master Hoard
knows I took her at best ’vantage.
HOA. What’s that, sweet gentlemen, what’s that?
SEC. G. He will needs bear me down, that his art only
wrought with the widow most.
HOA. O, you did both well, gentlemen, you did both well,
I thank you.
FIRST G. I was the first that moved her.
HOA. You were, i’faith.
SEC. G. But it was I that took her at the bound.
HOA. Ay, that was you: faith, gentlemen, ’tis right.
THIRD G. I boasted least, but ’twas I join’d their
hands.
HOA. By th’ mass, I think he did: you did all well,
Gentlemen, you did all well; contend no more.
FIRST G. Come, yon room’s fittest.
HOA. True, ’tis next the door. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ WITGOOD, _Courtesan, Host, and Drawer_.

DRA. You’re very welcome: please you to walk up stairs;
cloth’s laid, sir.
COURT. Up stairs? troth, I am very[82] weary, master
Witgood.
WIT. Rest yourself here awhile, widow; we’ll have a cup
of muscadine in this little room.
DRA. A cup of muscadine? You shall have the best, sir.
WIT. But, do you hear, sirrah?
DRA. Do you call? anon, sir.
WIT. What is there provided for dinner?
DRA. I cannot readily tell you, sir: if you please you
may go into the kitchen and see yourself, sir; many
gentlemen of worship do use to do it, I assure you, sir.
[_Exit._
HOST. A pretty familiar, prigging[83] rascal; he has his
part without book.
WIT. Against you are ready to drink to me, widow, I’ll
be present to pledge you.
COURT. Nay, I commend your care, ’tis done well of you.
[_Exit_ WITGOOD.]—’Las,[84] what have I forgot!
HOST. What, mistress?
COURT. I slipt my wedding-ring off when I washed, and
left it at my lodging: prithee, run; I shall be sad
without it. [_Exit Host._]—So, he’s gone. Boy.

_Enter Boy._

BOY. Anon, forsooth.
COURT. Come hither, sirrah; learn secretly if one master
Hoard, an ancient gentleman, be about house.
BOY. I heard such a one named.
COURT. Commend me to him.

_Re-enter_ HOARD _and Gentlemen_.

HOA. Ay, boy,[85] do thy commendations.
COURT. O, you come well: away, to boat, begone.
HOA. Thus wise men are reveng’d, give two for one.
[_Exeunt._

_Re-enter_ WITGOOD _and_ VINTNER.

WIT. I must request
You, sir, to shew extraordinary care:
My uncle comes with gentlemen, his friends,
And ’tis upon a making.[86]
VIN. Is it so?
I’ll give a special charge, good master Witgood.
May I be bold to see her?
WIT. Who? [t]he widow?
With all my heart, i’faith, I’ll bring you to her.
VIN. If she be a Staffordshire gentlewoman, ’tis much if
I know her not.
WIT. How now? boy! drawer!
VIN. Hie!

_Re-enter Boy._

BOY. Do you call, sir?
WIT. Went the gentlewoman up that was here?
BOY. Up, sir? she went out, sir.
WIT. Out, sir?
BOY. Out, sir: one master Hoard, with a guard of
gentlemen, carried her out at back door, a pretty while
since, sir.
WIT. Hoard? death and darkness! Hoard?

_Re-enter Host._

HOST. The devil of ring I can find.
WIT. How now? what news? where’s the widow?
HOST. My mistress? is she not here, sir?
WIT. More madness yet!
HOST. She sent me for a ring.
WIT. A plot, a plot!—To boat! she’s stole away.
HOST. What?

_Enter_ LUCRE _and Gentlemen_.

WIT. Follow! inquire old Hoard, my uncle’s adversary.
[_Exit Host._
LUC. Nephew, what’s that?
WIT. Thrice-miserable wretch!
LUC. Why, what’s the matter?
VIN. The widow’s borne away, sir.
LUC. Ha? passion of me!—A heavy welcome, gentlemen.
FIRST G. The widow gone?
LUC. Who durst attempt it?
WIT. Who but old Hoard, my uncle’s adversary?
LUC. How!
WIT. With his confederates.
LUC. Hoard, my deadly enemy?—Gentlemen, stand to me,
I will not bear it; ’tis in hate of me;
That villain seeks my shame, nay, thirsts my blood;
He owes me mortal malice.
I’ll spend my wealth on this despiteful plot,
Ere he shall cross me and my nephew thus.
WIT. So maliciously!

_Re-enter Host._

LUC. How now, you treacherous rascal?
HOST. That’s none of my name, sir.
WIT. Poor soul, he knew not on’t!
LUC. I’m sorry. I see then ’twas a mere plot.
HOST. I trac’d ’em nearly——
LUC.[87] Well?
HOST. And hear for certain
They have took Cole-Harbour.[88]
LUC. The devil’s sanctuary!
They shall not rest; I’ll pluck her from his arms.—
Kind and dear gentlemen,
If ever I had seat within your breasts——
FIRST G. No more, good sir; it is a wrong to us
To see you injur’d: in a cause so just
We’ll spend our lives but we will right our friends.
LUC. Honest and kind! come, we’ve[89] delay’d too
long:
Nephew, take comfort; a just cause is strong.
WIT. That’s all my comfort, uncle. [_Exeunt all
but_ WITGOOD.] Ha, ha, ha!
Now may events fall luckily and well:
He that ne’er strives, says wit, shall ne’er excel.
[_Exit._

SCENE IV.

_A Room in_ DAMPIT’S _House_.

_Enter_ DAMPIT, _drunk_.
DAM. When did I say my prayers? In anno 88, when the
great armada was coming; and in anno 89,[90] when the
great thundering and lightning was, I prayed heartily
then, i’faith, to overthrow Poovies’ new buildings; I
kneeled by my great iron chest, I remember.

_Enter_ AUDREY.

AUD. Master Dampit, one may hear you before they see
you: you keep sweet hours, master Dampit; we were all
a-bed three hours ago.
DAM. Audrey?
AUD. O, you’re a fine gentleman!
DAM. So I am, i’faith, and a fine scholar: do you use to
go to bed so early, Audrey?
AUD. Call you this early, master Dampit?
DAM. Why, is’t not one of clock i’ th’ morning? is not
that early enough? fetch me a glass of fresh beer.
AUD. Here, I have warmed your nightcap for you, master
Dampit.
DAM. Draw it on then. I am very weak truly: I have not
eaten so much as the bulk of an egg these three days.
AUD. You have drunk the more, master Dampit.
DAM. What’s that?
AUD. You mought, and[91] you would, master Dampit.
DAM. I answer you, I cannot: hold your prating; you
prate too much, and understand too little: are you
answered? Give me a glass of beer.
AUD. May I ask you how you do, master Dampit?
DAM. How do I? i’faith, naught.
AUD. I ne’er knew you do otherwise.
DAM. I eat not one pen’north of bread these two
years.[92] Give me a glass of fresh beer. I am not sick,
nor I am not well.
AUD. Take this warm napkin about your neck, sir, whilst
I help to make you unready.[93]
DAM. How now, Audrey-prater, with your scurvy devices,
what say you now?
AUD. What say I, master Dampit? I say nothing, but that
you are very weak.
DAM. Faith, thou hast more cony-catching[94] devices
than all London.
AUD. Why, master Dampit, I never deceived you in all my
life.
DAM. Why was that? because I never did trust thee.
AUD. I care not what you say, master Dampit.
DAM. Hold thy prating: I answer thee, thou art a beggar,
a quean, and a bawd: are you answered?
AUD. Fie, master Dampit! a gentleman, and have such
words?
DAM. Why, thou base drudge of infortunity, thou
kitchen-stuff-drab of beggary, roguery, and cockscombry,
thou cavernesed quean of foolery, knavery, and
bawdreaminy, I’ll tell thee what, I will not give a
louse for thy fortunes.
AUD. No, master Dampit? and there’s a gentleman comes
a-wooing to me, and he doubts[95] nothing but that you
will get me from him.
DAM. I? If I would either have thee or lie with thee
for two thousand pound, would I might be damned! why,
thou base, impudent quean of foolery, flattery, and
coxcombry, are you answered?
AUD. Come, will you rise and go to bed, sir?
DAMP. Rise, and go to bed too, Audrey? How does mistress
Proserpine?
AUD. Fooh!
DAM. She’s as fine a philosopher of a stinkard’s wife,
as any within the liberties. Faugh, faugh, Audrey!
AUD. How now, master Dampit?
DAM. Fie upon’t, what a choice of stinks here is! what
hast thou done, Audrey? fie upon’t, here’s a choice of
stinks indeed! Give me a glass of fresh beer, and then I
will to bed.
AUD. It waits for you above, sir.
DAM. Foh! I think they burn horns in Barnard’s Inn. If
ever I smelt such an abominable stink, usury forsake me.
[_Exit._
AUD. They be the stinking nails of his trampling feet,
and he talks of burning of horns. [_Exit._