Chapter XXIV: Act THE FIFTH

SCENE I.--_A Street near_ Sir Harry’s _House_.

_Enter_ Old Master Chartley _and three or four_ Serving-men.

Old Chartley.
Good Heaven! this London is a stranger grown,
And out of my acquaintance; this seven years
I have not seen Paul’s steeple, or Cheap Cross.[4.56]

1st Serving-man.
Sir--

Old Chartley.
Hast thou not made inquiry for my son?

1st Serving-man.
Yes, sir, I have asked about everywhere for him, but cannot hear of
him.

Old Chartley.
Disperse yourselves; inquire about the taverns, ordinaries,
bowl-alleys, tennis-courts, gaming-houses; for there, I fear, he
will be found.

1st Serving-man.
But where shall we hear of your worship again?

Old Chartley.
At Grace Church by the Conduit, near Sir Harry.
But stay, leave off a while your bootless search.
Had e’er man such a wild brain to his sorrow,
Of such small hope, who, when he should have married
A fair, a modest, and a virtuous maid,
Rich and revenued well, and even the night
Before the marriage day took horse, rode thence,
Whither Heaven knows? Since the distracted virgin
Hath left her father’s house, but neither found,
Yet in their search we have measured out much ground.

_Enter_ Sir Harry _and_ Sencer.

Sencer.
Your worship will be there?

Sir Harry.
Yes, not to fail,
At half an hour past six, or before seven.

Sencer.
You shall not find us at six and at seven, I’ll warrant you: good
health to your worship.

Sir Harry.
Farewell, good fellow;
At the Wise-woman’s house (I know it well:
Perhaps she knows some danger touching me).
I’ll keep mine hour.

[_Exit_ Sencer.

Old Chartley.
Sir Harry,
A hand, a hand; to baulk you it were sin.
I shall be bold to make your house mine inn.

Sir Harry.
Brother Chartley, I am glad to see you.

Old Chartley.
Methinks, Sir Harry, you look strangely on me.
And do not bid me welcome with an heart.

Sir Harry.
And blame me not to look amazedly
To see you here.

Old Chartley.
Why me?

Sir Harry.
Come, come, you’re welcome.
And now I’ll turn my strangeness to true joy.
I am glad to see you well, and safe recovered
Of your late grievous sickness.

Old Chartley.
The strange amazèd looks that you cast off
You put on me; and blame me not to wonder
That you should talk of sickness to sound men.
I thank my stars I did not taste the grief
Of inward pain or outward malady
This seven years day.

Sir Harry.
But by your favour, brother,
Then let me have my wonder back again.

Old Chartley.
Before I quite part with it, let me know
Why you the name of brother put upon me
In every clause--a name as strange to me
As my recovered sickness.

Sir Harry.
You are pleasant,
And it becomes you well: welcome again,
The rather you are come just to the wedding.

Old Chartley.
What wedding, sir?

Sir Harry.
That you should ask that question!
Why, of my daughter Grace.

Old Chartley.
Is Grace bestowed? Of whom, I pray?

Sir Harry.
Of whom but of your son.
I wonder, brother Chartley, and my friend,
You should thus play on me.

Old Chartley.
But by your favour,
Were you ten knights, Sir Harry--take me with you[4.57]--
My son match with your daughter! my consent
Not worthy to be craved!

Sir Harry.
Nay, then I see
You’ll stir my patience; know this forward match
Took its first birth from you.

Old Chartley.
From me?

Sir Harry.
From you.
Peruse this letter: know you your own hand?
’Twas well that I reserved your hand a witness
Against your tongue. You had best deny the jointure
Of the three hundred pounds made to my daughter;
’Tis that I know you aim at; but your seal-- [_Shows him letter_.

Old Chartley.
Shall not make me approve it: I deny
This seal for mine, nor do I vouch that hand.
Your daughter and the dower, letter and all,
I quite disclaim. Sir Harry, you much wrong me.

Sir Harry.
I can bear more than this; heap wrong on wrong,
And I’ll support it all; I for this time
Will cast my spleen behind me. And yet hear me:
This letter your son Chartley, as from you,
Delivered me. I like the motion well.

Old Chartley.
My spleen is further thrown aside than yours,
And I am full as patient, and yet hear me;
My son’s contracted to another maid.
Nay, I am patient still--yet that I writ
This letter, sealed this impress, I deny.

Sir Harry.
Why, then, the jack[4.58] your hand did counterfeit?

Old Chartley.
Why, then, he did so. Where’s that unthrift, speak?

Sir Harry.
Some hour ago, he mounted and rid post
To give you visit, whom he said lay sick
Upon your death-bed.

Old Chartley.
You amaze me, sir.
It is an ill presage; hereon I see
Your former salutation took its ground,
To see me safe recovered of my sickness.

Sir Harry.
Indeed it did. Your welcome is a subject
I cannot use too oft; welcome again.
I am sorry you this night must sup alone,
For I am elsewhere called about some business,
Concerning what I know not. Hours run on--
I must to Hogsdon; high time I were gone. [_Exit_.

Old Chartley.
Perhaps to the Wise-woman’s; she may tell me
The fortunes of my son. This accident
Hath bred in me suspicion and strange fears.
I will not sup alone, but I protest,
’Mongst some this night I’ll play the intruding guest.

[_Exit with_ Serving-men.

SCENE II.--_The Principal Room in the_ Wise-woman’s _House, leading to several small rooms, all of which look into it_.

_Enter the_ Wise-woman, Sencer _as a_ Serving-man, Luce _and her_ Father, _and 2nd_ Luce _in_ Boy’s _clothes_.

Wise-woman.
But will Sir Harry come?

Sencer.
Presume he will,
And Chartley too.

Luce’s Father.
I’ll have the knave by the ears.

Luce.
Nay, patience, sir; leave your revenge to me.

_Enter_ Boyster.

Boyster.
Grannam, I am come according to promise.

Wise-woman.
And welcome to the best hole that I have in Hogsdon.

Boyster.
Good even.

Luce.
Thanks, sir, a good even may it prove,
That each may reap the fruits of their own love!

2nd Luce.
That shall be my prayer too.

Boyster.
Come, what shall’s do?

Wise-woman.
Withdraw; I’ll place you all in several rooms,
Where sit, see, but say nothing.

[_They withdraw. Exeunt_ Wise-woman _and 2nd_ Luce.

_Enter_ Taber, _ushering_ Gratiana.

Taber.
Here, sweet mistress; I know the place well ever since I was here to
know my fortune.

Gratiana.
Call me some half an hour hence.

[_Exit_ Taber.

_Re-enter the_ Wise-woman _and 2nd_ Luce.

Wise-woman.
Your ladyship is most lovingly welcome. A low stool for the
gentlewoman, boy. I made bold to send to you to take view of such a
piece of work as I presume you have seldom seen the like.

Gratiana.
Of whose doing, I pray?

Wise-woman.
A friend of yours and mine. Please you withdraw,
I’ll bring you to’t.

2nd Luce.
Mistress!

Wise-woman.
One calls, sweet lady; I shall do you wrong,
But pray you think my little stay not long.

[Gratiana _withdraws, exeunt the others_.

SCENE III.--_An Inner Room in the same_.

_Enter_ Sencer, Sir Harry, _and_ Luce.

Sencer.
Here, sir, in this retiring chamber.

Sir Harry.
Gramercy, friend. How now? what’s here to do?
A pretty wench and a close chamber too!

Luce.
That you have so much graced my mother’s house
With your desirèd presence, worthy knight,
Receive a poor maid’s thanks. Who’s there? a chair
And cushion for Sir Harry.

Sir Harry.
Thanks, most fair.

Luce.
Please you but a few minutes here to stay,
Till my return, I’ll not be long away.

Sencer.
The gentlewoman will wait on you by and by, sir.

[_Exeunt_ Luce _and_ Sencer.

Sir Harry.
And I’ll attend her, friend.
Of all those doubts I long to know the end.

SCENE IV.--_The Principal Room in the same_.

_Enter the_ Wise-woman, Sencer _and_ Luce. _To them enter 2nd_ Luce _and_ Old Chartley.

2nd Luce.
The knight you seek was here, or will be straight,
And, if you be the man you name yourself,
You are most welcome, and you shall not back
Till you have seen Sir Harry.

Old Chartley.
Gentle youth,
I saw him enter here, and under privilege
Of his acquaintance made I bold to stay.

2nd Luce.
And you are welcome, sir; sit down, I pray.

[_Takes him into one of the inner rooms_.

Wise-woman.
Now they are placed in several rooms, that look into this one. Were
Chartley come we had all our company.

Sencer.
Hark, there’s one knocks; ’tis Chartley, on my life.

Luce.
One of you let him in, whilst I prepare me
To entertain his coming.

[_Exeunt_ Sencer _and_ Wise-woman.

_Enter_ Young Chartley, _ushered in by_ Sencer, _who retires_.

Young Chartley.
What, old acquaintance Luce! Not a word? yet some lip-labour if thou
lovest me.

Gratiana. [_In an inner room_.]
My husband![4.59]

Sir Harry. [_In another inner room_.]
What, young Chartley!

Old Chartley. [_Also in an inner room_.]
How! my son!

Young Chartley.
Come, come away with this wailing in woe; if thou put’st finger in
the eye a little longer, I shall plunge in pain too presently.

Luce.
O husband, husband!

Gratiana.
Husband!

Young Chartley.
What say’st thou, my sweet wife?

Gratiana.
Wife! O my heart!

2nd Luce.
[_Aside_.] In that name wife I claim a poor child’s part.

Luce.
O husband, how have you used me!

Young Chartley.
Nay, how do I mean to use thee, but as a man should use his wife?

Gratiana.
I hope he doth not mean to use her so.

2nd Luce.
[_Aside_.] I hope so too.

Boyster. [_In an inner room_.]
My grannam is a witch.

Young Chartley.
Nay, Luce, sweet wife, leave weeping if thou lovest me.

Luce.
Oh, can you blame me, knowing that the fountain
Of all these springs took their first head from you?
You know, you too well know, not three days since
Are past since we were married.

Gratiana.
Married! I can endure no longer.

Sir Harry.
It cannot be.

Old Chartley.
It is not possible.

Boyster.
I’ll be even with thee for this, old grannam.

Luce.
And though we wanted witness upon earth,
Yet Heaven bears record of our nuptial tie.

Young Chartley.
Tush, when we meet in Heaven let’s talk of that.
Nay, come, you ass, you fool, what’s past is past;
Though man and wife, yet I must marry now
Another gallant; here’s thy letter, Luce,
And this night I intend to lodge with thee.

2nd Luce.
[_Aside_.] I’ll scratch her eyes out first, although I love her.

Young Chartley.
Prithee be merry.
I have made a gull of Grace, and old Sir Harry
Thinks me a great way off. I told the knight
My father lay a-dying, took post-horse,
Rid out of Holborn, turned by Islington,
So hither, wench, to lodge all night with thee.

2nd Luce.
[_Aside_.] Here’s one saith nay to that.

Old Chartley.
Was that your journey?

Young Chartley.
Why,[4.60] I have too much Grace already.

Boyster.
Thou hast no grace at all.

Young Chartley.
Nay, let’s to bed; if thou couldst but imagine how I love thee,
Luce!

Luce.
How is it possible you can love me, and go about to marry another?

Young Chartley.
Dost thou not know she’s rich? Why, you fool, as soon as I have got
her dower, it is but giving her a dram, or a pill to purge
melancholy, to make her turn up her heels, and then with all that
wealth come I to live with thee, my sweet rascal.

Gratiana. [_Coming from the inner room_.]
She thanks you, and is much beholding to you.

Young Chartley.
I am betrayed!

Gratiana.
Art thou my suitor? wouldst thou marry me,
And thy first wife alive? then poison me,
To purchase my poor dower?

Young Chartley.
What shall I say, or think, or do? I am at a nonplus.

Gratiana.
Hast thou the face, thou brazen impudence,
To look upon me?--past grace!

Young Chartley.
Thou canst not properly call me past Grace, for I never enjoyed thee
yet. I cannot tell whether I blush or no, but I have now at this
time more Grace than I can tell what to do with.

Gratiana.
Who drew thee to this folly?

Young Chartley.
Who but the old dotard thy father, who when I was honestly married
to a civil maid, he persuaded me to leave her? I was loth at first,
but after entreating, urging, and offering me large proffers, I must
confess I was seduced to come a-wooing to thee.

Gratiana.
My father, villain!

Young Chartley.
Ay, thy father, Grace. And were he here would justify it to the old
dotard’s face.

_Enter_ Sir Harry.

Sir Harry.
Vile boy, thou dar’st not be so impudent!
When did I meet thee, seek or sue to thee?
When? Name the day, the month, the hour, the year.

Young Chartley.
Plots, plots! I can but cry you mercy both. Say that I have done you
wrong, I can be but sorry for it. But, indeed, to clear you, and lay
the fault where it ought to be, all this comes from mine own father
in the country, who hearing I had married with Luce, sends me word,
of his blessing,[4.61] to be divorced from her, and to come a
suitor to your daughter. I think you have his hand and seal to show.

_Enter_ Old Chartley.

Old Chartley.
My hand and seal! When was that letter writ?

Young Chartley.
Heyday, if you get one word more of me to-night but scurvy looks,
I’ll give you leave to hang me.

Sir Harry.
Vile boy!

Old Chartley.
Ungracious villain!

Gratiana.
Treacherous youth!

Sir Harry.
No grace at all!

Young Chartley.
No Grace.

Old Chartley.
This is bad company who hath seduced thee!
Speak, on my blessing, who hath thus misled thee?
But no more lies, I charge thee.

Young Chartley.
Bad company hath been the shame of me. I was as virtuously given as
any youth in Europe, till I fell into one Boyster’s company; ’tis he
that hath done all the harm upon me.

Boyster.
[_Aside_.] I!

Old Chartley.
And if he should deny it?

_Enter_ Boyster.

Boyster.
What then? you’d cry him mercy.

Young Chartley.
I had best bite out my tongue, and speak no more. What shall I do,
or what shall I say? There is no outfacing them all. Gentlemen,
fathers, wives, or what else, I have wronged you all. I confess it
that I have--what would you more? Will any of you rail of me? I’ll
bear it. Will any of you beat me? So they strike not too hard, I’ll
suffer it. Will any of you challenge me? I’ll answer it. What would
you have me say or do? One of these I have married, the other I have
betrothed, yet both maids for me. Will you have me take one, and
leave the tother? I will. Will you have me keep them both? I will.

_Enter_ Luce’s Father.

Luce’s Father.
Perjured! not mine.

Young Chartley.
What, you here too? Nay, then, I see all my good friends are met
together. Wilt thou have me, Luce? I am thy husband, and had I not
loved thee better than Grace, I had not disappointed the marriage
day to-morrow.

Luce.
Lascivious! no.

Young Chartley.
Wilt thou have me, Grace?--for had I not loved thee better than
Luce, I would never after I had married her been contracted to thee.

Gratiana.
Inconstant! no.

Young Chartley.
Then, neither married man, widower, nor bachelor, what’s to be done?
Here’s even the proverb verified--between two stools, the tail goes
to ground.

Sir Harry.
Now I bethink me, this our meeting here is wondrous strange. Call in
the gentlewoman that owns this house.

_Enter_ Sencer _no longer disguised, and the_ Wise-woman.

Boyster.
Old trot, I’ll trounce thee.
Here is the marriage proved ’twixt Luce and Chartley:
Witch, this was not your promise.

Wise-woman.
Have patience, and in the end we’ll pay you all. Your worships are
most heartily welcome. I made bold to send for you, and you may see
to what end, which was to discover unto you the wild vagaries of
this wanton wag-pasty--a wild oats I warrant him--and, Sir Harry,
that your daughter hath scaped this scouring, thank this gentleman,
and then make of him as he deserves.

Sir Harry.
Oh, I remember him.

Gratiana.
He never pleased mine eye so well as now.
I know his love, and he in Chartley’s place
My favour shall possess.

Sencer.
Thanks, my sweet Grace.

Sir Harry.
Ay, and the more the inconstant youth to spite,
Sencer, I give her thee in Chartley’s sight.

Young Chartley.
There’s one gone already; but this is my wife, and her I’ll keep in
spite both of the devil and his dam.

Wise-woman.
Not from her lawful husband!

Young Chartley.
That am I.

Wise-woman.
That is the gentleman [_pointing to_ Boyster],--accept him, Luce;
and you the like of her--nay, I’ll make it good. This gentleman
married you visarded, you him disguised, mistaking him for Chartley,
which none but my boy Jack was privy to: after she changed her habit
with him, as you with Jack; and you in Mistress Luce’s habit--

Luce.
May I believe you, mother?

Wise-woman.
This be your token.

Boyster.
Her that I married, I wrung twice by the finger.

Luce.
Of that token, my hand was sensible.

Boyster.
And ere the clamorous and loud noise begun,
I whispered to her thus-- [_Whispers_.

Luce.
You are the man.

Boyster.
Thanks, grannam; what thou promised thou hast done.

Luce’s Father.
And, leaving him, I take you for my son.

Young Chartley.
Two gone! then where’s the third? This makes me mad.
Where is my wife, then? for a wife I had.

Wise-woman.
Not see thy wife? Come hither, Jack, my boy.
Nay, take him to thee, and with him all joy.

Old Chartley.
Well art thou served to be a general scorn
To all thy blood: and, if not for our sakes,
For thy soul’s health and credit of the world,
Have some regard to me--to me thy father.

Young Chartley.
Enough, sir: if I should say I would become a new man, you would not
take my word; if I should swear I would amend my life, you would not
take mine oath; if I should bind myself to become an honest man, you
would scarce take my bond.

Old Chartley.
I should do none of these.

Young Chartley.
Then see, sir: when to all your judgments I see me past grace, do I
lay hold of grace, and here begin to retire myself. This woman hath
lent me a glass, in which I see all my imperfections, at which my
conscience doth more blush inwardly than my face outwardly; and now
I dare confidently undertake for myself I am honest.

2nd Luce.
Then I dare confidently undertake to help you to a wife who desires
to have an honest man or none. Look on me well: simple though I
stand here, I am your wife. Blush not at your folly, man. Perhaps I
have more in me than you expect from me.

Young Chartley.
Knavery and riot, both which are now to me foreign.

2nd Luce.
You and I have been better acquainted, and yet search me not too
far, lest you shame me; look on me well--nay better, better
yet;--I’ll assure you I left off a petticoat when I put on these
breeches. What say you now? [_She scatters her hair_.

Young Chartley.
First love, and best beloved!

2nd Luce.
Let me be both or neither.

Wise-woman.
[_Aside_.] My boy turned girl! I hope she’ll keep my counsel. From
henceforth I’ll never entertain any servant but I’ll have her
searched.

Old Chartley.
Her love hath drawn her hither after him.--
My loving daughter, welcome! thou hast run
A happy course to see my son thus changed.

Young Chartley.
Father, call me once again your son, and, Sir Harry, me your friend;
Sencer, a hand, and Mistress Grace, a heart, in honourable love.
Where I have wronged you, Luce, forgive; impute my errors to my
youth, not me. With Grace I interchange an embrace; with you, Luce,
a parting buss. I wish you all joy. Divide my heart amongst
you--thou my soul!
Nay, Mother Midnight, there’s some love for you;
Out of thy folly, being reputed wise,
We, self-conceited, have our follies found:
Bear thou the name of all these comical acts.
Luce, Luce, and Grace--O covetous man! I see
I sought to engross what now sufficeth three,
Yet each one wife enough. One nuptial feast
Shall serve three bridals, where be thou chief guest!

[_Exeunt_.

THE RAPE OF LUCRECE.

An edition of _The Rape of Lucrece_ was published in 1608; two other editions followed in 1609, and others again in 1630 and 1638. It was acted at the Red Bull in Clerkenwell. In the old copies neither the acts nor the scenes, excepting in the case of the senate scenes, are marked; in the present reprint the divisions are given, it is hoped, with approximate correctness.

To the Reader.

It hath been no custom in me of all other men (courteous readers) to commit my plays to the press; the reason though some may attribute to my own insufficiency, I had rather subscribe, in that, to their severe censure, than by seeking to avoid the imputation of weakness, to incur greater suspicion of honesty: for, though some have used a double sale of their labours, first to the stage, and after to the press, for my own part I here proclaim myself ever faithful in the first, and never guilty of the last. Yet since some of my plays have (unknown to me, and without any of my direction) accidentally come into the printer’s hands, and therefore so corrupt and mangled (copied only by the ear) that I have been as unable to know them as ashamed to challenge them, this therefore I was the willinger to furnish out in his native habit: first being by consent; next because the rest have been so wronged, in being published in such savage and ragged ornaments. Accept it, courteous gentlemen, and prove as favourable readers as we have found you gracious auditors.

Yours, T. H.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

Servius, King of Rome.

Tarquin the Proud.

The two Sons of Tarquin:

Aruns, Sextus,

Brutus Junior.

Collatinus, otherwise Collatine.

Horatius Cocles.

Mutius Scevola.

Lucretius.

Valerius.

Poplicola.

Porsenna, King of the Tuscans.

Porsenna’s Secretary.

The Priest of Apollo.

Two Sentinels.

Senators.

Serving-man.

Clown.

Lucrece, Wife of Collatinus.

Tullia, Wife of Tarquin.

Mirable, Lucrece’s Maid.

SCENE.--Rome and its outskirts, Delphi, and Ardea.

THE RAPE OF LUCRECE.