Thomas Middleton

A Trick to Catch the Old One

Le moyen d'attraper un vieillard (Traducción) Truco para cazar a un viejo (Traducción)

Middleton, Thomas. A Trick to Catch the Old One. In: Lawrence, Robert G. (ed.) Jacobean and Caroline Comedies. London: J. M. Dent and Sons, 1973, pp. 1-72, Everyman’s Library.

Joan Oleza Simó (Investigador principal) Teruel Pozas, Miguel (Editor)

English · Verso · 200 versos

https://playcode.fly.dev/plays/EMOTHE0339_ATrickToCatchTheOldOne

Tiempo histórico: Siglo XVII
Datación: posterior 1604 y anterior 1606

Bibliografía

Ediciones modernas

Barber, Charles, ed. A Trick to Catch the Old One. Middleton, Thomas. Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1968. Fountainwell Drama Texts.
Bullen, A. H., ed. The Works of Thomas Middleton. Vol. 2. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1885.
Frost, David L., ed. The Selected Plays of Thomas Middleton. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1978.
Lawrence, Robert G., ed. Jacobean and Caroline Comedies. London: J. M. Dent & Sons, 1973. Everyman’s Library.
Loughrey, Bryan ; Taylor, Neil, ed. Five Plays. Middleton, Thomas. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1988.
Mulholland, Paul, ed. A Trick to Catch the Old One. Middleton, Thomas. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2013. The Revels Plays.
Nethercot, Arthur H.;. Baskervill, , Charles R. ; Heltzel, Virgil B., ed. Stuart Plays. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1971.
Price, George R., ed. Michaelmas Term; A Trick to Catch the Old One. Middleton, Thomas. The Hague and Paris: Mouton, 1976. Studies in English Literature 91.
Spencer, Hazelton, ed. Elizabethan Plays. Boston: D. C. Heath and Company, 1933.
Taylor, Michael, ed. A Mad World, My Masters and Other Plays. Middleton, Thomas. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995. Oxford English Drama.
Watson, G. J., ed. A Trick to Catch the Old One. Middleton, Thomas. London: E. Benn, 1968. New Mermaids.
Wayne, Valerie, ed. A Trick to Catch the Old One. In: Taylor, Gary; Lavagnino, John, ed. Thomas Middleton: The Collected Works. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007, pp. 373–413.

Bibliografía crítica

Ayers, P. K. "Plot, Subplot, and the Uses of Dramatic Discord in 'A Mad World, My Masters' and 'A Trick To Catch the Old One". Modern Language Quarterly: A Journal of Literary History. 1986, 47, 1, p. 3-18.
Biggs, Murray. "The questionable ending of Middleton's 'A Trick to Catch the Old One': how seriously can we take the palinodes?". Notes and Queries. 1994, 41, 4, p. 507-9.
Kadono, Izumi. "The Prodigal in 'A Trick To Catch the Old One'". Sophia English Studies. 1982, 7, p. 33-46.
Leonidas, Eric. "The School of the World: Trading on Wit in Middleton's 'Trick to Catch the Old One'". Early Modern Literary Studies: A Journal of Sixteenth- and Seventeenth-Century English Literature. 2007, 12, 3.
Messina, Joseph. "The Moral Design of 'A Trick to Catch the Old One'". Ed. Friedenreich, Kenneth. "Accompaninge the players": Essays Celebrating Thomas Middleton, 1580-1980. New York: AMS, 1983, p. 109-132.
Mount, David B. "The '[un]reclaymed forme' of Middleton's 'A Trick to Catch the Old One'". Studies in English Literature 1500-1900. 1991, 31, 2, p. 259-72.
Shershow, Scott Cutler. "The pit of wit: sub-plot and unity in Middleton's 'A Trick to Catch the Old One'". Studies in Philology. 1991, 88, 3, p. 363-81.

Traducciones

Español

Middleton, Thomas. "Truco para cazar a un viejo". Tra. Sanderson, John D. Biblioteca Digital EMOTHE. Valencia: ARTELOPE / EMOTHE Universitat de València, 2017. URL: https://emothe.uv.es/biblioteca/textosEMOTHE/EMOTHE0483_TrucoParaCazarAUnViejo.php

Français

Middleton, Thomas. "Moyen d'attraper un vieillard". Tra. Duval, Georges. Les Contemporains de Shakespeare. Ben Jonson, Marlowe, Dekker, Middleton. Tra. Duval, Georges. Paris: E. Flammarion, 1920. URL: https://emothe.uv.es/biblioteca/textosEMOTHE/EMOTHE0446_LeMoyenDattraperUnVieillard.php

Italiano

Middleton, Thomas. "Una trappola per il vecchio". Tra. Barbarossa, Chiara. Tre drammi di Thomas Middleton. Genova: Tilgher, 1977.
Middleton, Thomas. Una trappola per il vecchio. Tra. Landini, M. C. Bologna: CUSL, 1989.

Note on this digital edition

Text reproduced by kind permission of Joan Lawrence. With the support of research project GVAICO2016-094, funded by Generalitat Valenciana (2016-2017). For this digital edition, speech prefixes have been expanded, as well as “W.” to “Walkadine” in stage directions.

[ DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Theodorus Witgood scapegrace nephew to Pecunious Lucre

Pecunious Lucre

Walkadine Hoard uncle to Joyce

Onesiphorus Hoard brother to Walkadine Hoard

Limber }

Kix }

Sir Tristram Lamprey }

Spitchcock }

Moneylove } friends to Walkadine Hoard

Harry Dampit }

Gulf } usurers

Sam Freedom stepson to Lucre

Sir Lancelot

Host

Three Creditors

George servant to Lucre

Arthur servant to Walkadine Hoard

Gentlemen friends to Lucre

Drawer

Vintner

Scrivener

Sergeants

Boys

Servants

Courtesan

Mistress Lucre

Joyce beloved of Witgood

Lady Foxstone

Audrey servant to Dampit

[ACT I SCENE 1]

([A town in Leicestershire])

(Enter Witgood, a gentleman, solus)

WITGOOD

All’s gone! Still thou’rt a gentleman, that’s all. But a poor one, that’s nothing. What milk brings thy meadows forth now? Where are thy goodly uplands and thy downlands? All sunk into that little pit, lechery. Why should a gallant pay but two shillings for his ord’nary that nourishes him, and twenty times two for his brothel that consumes him? But where’s Long-acre? In my uncle’s conscience, which is three years’ voyage about. He that sets out upon his conscience ne’er finds the way home again; he is either swallowed in the quicksands of law-quillets or splits upon the piles of a praemunire ; yet these old fox-brain’d and ox-brow’d uncles have still defences for their avarice and apologies for their practices, and will thus greet our follies:

He that doth his youth expose 13

To brothel, drink, and danger, 14

Let him that is his nearest kin 15

Cheat him before a stranger. 16

And that’s his uncle; ‘tis a principle in usury. I dare not visit the city; there I should be too soon visited by that horrible plague, my debts, and by that means I lose a virgin’s love, her portion, and her virtues. Well, how should a man live now that has no living? Hum. Why, are there not a million of men in the world that only sojourn upon their brain and make their wits their mercers? And am I but one amongst that million and cannot thrive upon’t? Any trick out of the compass of law now would come happily to me.

(Enter Courtesan)

COURTESAN

My love!

WITGOOD

My loathing! Hast thou been the secret consumption of my purse, and now com’st to undo my last means, my wit? Wilt leave no virtue in me, and yet thou ne’er the better?

Hence, courtesan, round-webb’d tarantula, 30

That dryest the roses in the cheeks of youth. 31

COURTESAN

I have been true unto your pleasure, and all your lands 32

Thrice rack’d was never worth the jewel 33

Which I prodigally gave you, my virginity. 34

Lands mortgag’d may return, and more esteem’d, 35

But honesty once pawn’d is ne’er redeem’d. 36

WITGOOD

Forgive; I do thee wrong 37

To make thee sin and then to chide thee for’t. 38

COURTESAN

I know I am your loathing now; farewell. 39

WITGOOD

Stay, best invention, stay. 40

COURTESAN

I that have been the secret consumption of your purse, shall I stay now to undo your last means, your wits? Hence, courtesan, away.

WITGOOD

I prithee make me not mad at my own weapon. Stay—a thing few women can do, I know that, and therefore they had need wear stays—be not contrary. Dost love me? Fate has so cast it that all my means I must derive from thee.

COURTESAN

From me? Be happy then; 48

What lies within the power of my performance 49

Shall be commanded of thee. 50

WITGOOD

Spoke like

An honest drab, i’ faith; it may prove something. 51

What trick is not an embryo at first, 52

Until a perfect shape come over it? 53

COURTESAN

Come, I must help you. Whereabouts left you? 54

I’ll proceed. 55

Though you beget, ‘tis I must help to breed. 56

Speak. What is’t? I’d fain conceive it. 57

WITGOOD

So, so, so. Thou shalt presently take the name and form upon thee of a rich country widow, four hundred a year valiant, in woods, in bullocks, in barns, and in rye stacks. We’ll to London and to my covetous uncle.

COURTESAN

I begin to applaud thee; our states being both desperate, they are soon resolute. But how for horses?

WITGOOD

Mass, that’s true. The jest will be of some continuance. Let me see. Horses now, a bots on ‘em! Stay. I have acquaintance with a mad host, never yet bawd to thee. I have rins’d the whoreson’s gums in mull-sack many a time and often; put but a good tale into his ear now so it come off cleanly, and there’s horse and man for us, I dare warrant thee.

COURTESAN

Arm your wits then 70

Speedily. There shall want nothing in me, 71

Either in behaviour, discourse, or fashion, 72

That shall discredit your intended purpose. 73

I will so artfully disguise my wants 74

And set so good a courage on my state 75

That I will be believed. 76

WITGOOD

Why, then, all’s furnish’d. I shall go nigh to catch that old fox mine uncle, though he make but some amends for my undoing. Yet there’s some comfort in’t: He cannot otherwise choose, though it be but in hope to cozen me again, but supply any hasty want that I bring to town with me. The device well and cunningly carried, the name of a rich widow and four hundred a year in good earth will so conjure up a kind of usurer’s love in him to me that he will not only desire my presence, which at first shall scarce be granted him—I’ll keep off a’ purpose— but I shall find him so officious to deserve, so ready to supply. I know the state of an old man’s affection so well: If his nephew be poor indeed, why he lets God alone with him, but if he be once rich, then he’ll be the first man that helps him.

COURTESAN

‘Tis right the world; for in these days an old man’s love to his kindred is like his kindness to his wife, ‘tis always done before he comes at it.

WITGOOD

I owe thee for that jest. Begone. Here’s all my wealth. Prepare thyself. Away. I’ll to mine host with all possible haste, and, with the best art and most profitable form, pour the sweet circumstance into his ear, which shall have the gift to turn all the wax to honey. [Exit Courtesan] How now? Oh, the right worshipful seniors of our country.

([Stands aside])

([Enter Three Gentlemen Gentlemen Lawrence annotates: “Onesiphorus Hoard, Limber, and Kix, but not so identified until later (I,i,112: V,ii,44-64)” (p.11). ])

1 GENTLEMAN

Who’s that? 99

2 GENTLEMAN

Oh, the common rioter. Take no note of him. 100

WITGOOD

You will not see me now; the comfort is 101

Ere it be long you will scarce see yourselves. 102

([Exit])

1 GENTLEMAN

I wonder how he breathes; h’as consum’d all 103

Upon that courtesan. 104

2 GENTLEMAN

We have heard so much.

1 GENTLEMAN

You have heard all truth; his uncle and my brother 105

Have been these three years mortal adversaries. 106

Two old tough spirits, they seldom meet but fight, 107

Or quarrel when ‘tis calmest. I think their anger 108

Be the very fire that keeps their age alive. 109

2 GENTLEMAN

What was the quarrel, sir?

1 GENTLEMAN

Faith, about a purchase, fetching over a young heir. Master Hoard, my brother, having wasted much time in beating the bargain, what did me old Lucre but, as his conscience mov’d him, knowing the poor gentleman, stepp’d in between ‘em and cozen’d him himself.

2 GENTLEMAN

And was this all, sir?

1 GENTLEMAN

This was e’en it, sir. Yet for all this, I know no reason but the match might go forward betwixt his wife’s son and my niece. What though there be a dissension between the two old men, I see no reason it should put a difference between the two younger. ‘Tis as natural for old folks to fall out as for young to fall in. A scholar comes a-wooing to my niece; well, he’s wise, but he’s poor. Her son comes a-wooing to my niece; well, he’s a fool, but he’s rich.

2 GENTLEMAN

Ay, marry, sir.

1 GENTLEMAN

Pray now, is not a rich fool better than a poor philosopher?

2 GENTLEMAN

One would think so, i’ faith.

1 GENTLEMAN

She now remains at London with my brother, her second uncle, to learn fashions, practise music. The voice between her lips, and the viol between her legs, she’ll be fit for a consort very speedily. A thousand good pound is her portion; if she marry, we’ll ride up and be merry.

3 GENTLEMAN

A match, if it be a match.

(Exeunt.)

[ACT I SCENE 2]

([A town in Leicestershire])

(Enter at one door, Witgood; at the other, Host)

WITGOOD

Mine host?

HOST

Young Master Witgood.

WITGOOD

I have been laying all the town for thee.

HOST

Why, what’s the news, Bully Had-land?

WITGOOD

What geldings are in the house of thine own? Answer me to that first.

HOST

Why, man, why?

WITGOOD

Mark me what I say. I’ll tell thee such a tale in thine ear that thou shalt trust me spite of thy teeth, furnish me with some money willy-nilly, and ride up with me thyself contra voluntatem et professionem .

HOST

How! Let me see this trick, and I’ll say thou hast more art than a conjurer.

WITGOOD

Dost thou joy in my advancement?

HOST

Do I love sack and ginger?

WITGOOD

Comes my prosperity desiredly to thee?

HOST

Come forfeitures to a usurer, fees to an officer, punks to an host, and pigs to a parson desiredly? Why, then, la!

WITGOOD

Will the report of a widow of four hundred a year, boy, make thee leap and sing and dance and come to thy place again?

HOST

Wilt thou command me now? I am thy spirit; conjure me into any shape.

WITGOOD

I ha’ brought her from her friends, turn’d back the horses by a sleight. Not so much as one amongst her six men, goodly, large, yeomanly fellows, will she trust with this her purpose; by this light, all unmann’d; regardless of her state, neglectful of vainglorious ceremony, all for my love. Oh, ‘tis a fine little voluble tongue, mine host, that wins a widow.

HOST

No, ‘tis a tongue with a great T, my boy, that wins a widow.

WITGOOD

Now, sir, the case stands thus, good mine host; if thou lov’st my happiness, assist me.

HOST

Command all my beasts i’ th’ house.

WITGOOD

Nay, that’s not all neither; prithee, take truce with thy joy and listen to me. Thou know’st I have a wealthy uncle i’ th’ city, somewhat the wealthier by my follies. The report of this fortune, well and cunningly carried, might be a means to draw some goodness from the usuring rascal, for I have put her in hope already of some estate that I have, either in land or money. Now if I be found true in neither, what may I expect but a sudden breach of our love, utter dissolution of the match, and confusion of my fortunes for ever?

HOST

Wilt thou but trust the managing of thy business with me?

WITGOOD

With thee? Why, will I desire to thrive in my purpose? Will I hug four hundred a year? I that know the misery of nothing? Will that man wish a rich widow, that has ne’er a hole to put his head in? With thee, mine host? Why, believe it, sooner with thee than with a covey of counsellors.

HOST

Thank you for your good report. I’ faith, sir, and if I stand you not in stead, why, then, let an host come off hic et haec hostis , a deadly enemy to dice, drink, and venery. Come, where’s this widow?

WITGOOD

Hard at Park End.

HOST

I’ll be her serving-man for once.

WITGOOD

Why, there we let off together. Keep full time; my thoughts were striking then just the same number.

HOST

I knew’t. Shall we then see our merry days again?

WITGOOD

Our merry nights, which ne’er shall be more seen.

(Exeunt.)

[ACT I SCENE 3]

([A street in London])

(Enter at several doors old Lucre and old [Walkadine] Hoard, gentlemen [Lamprey, Spitchcock, Sam Freedom, and Moneylove] coming between them to pacify ‘em)

LAMPREY

Nay, good Master Lucre, and you, Master Hoard, anger is the wind which you’re both too much troubled withal.

WALKADINE HOARD

Shall my adversary thus daily affront me, ripping up the old wound of our malice, which three summers could not close up? Into which wound the very sight of him drops scalding lead instead of balsamum?

LUCRE

Why, Hoard, Hoard, Hoard, Hoard, Hoard! May I not pass in the state of quietness to mine own house? Answer me to that, before witness, and why? I’ll refer the cause to honest, even-minded gentlemen, or require the mere indifferences of the law to decide this matter. I got the purchase, true; was’t not any man’s case? Yes. Will a wise man stand as a bawd, whilst another wipes his nose of the bargain? No, I answer, no, in that case.

LAMPREY

Nay, sweet Master Lucre.

WALKADINE HOARD

Was it the part of a friend? No; rather of a Jew. Mark what I say: When I had beaten the bush to the last bird, or, as I may term it, the price to a pound, then, like a cunning usurer, to come in the evening of the bargain and glean all my hopes in a minute; to enter, as it were, at the back door of the purchase, for thou ne’er cam’st the right way by it!

LUCRE

Hast thou the conscience to tell me so, without any impeachment to thyself?

WALKADINE HOARD

Thou that canst defeat thy own nephew, Lucre, lap his lands into bonds, and take the extremity of thy kindred’s forfeitures because he’s a rioter, a wastethrift, a brothel-master, and so forth—what may a stranger expect from thee but vulnera dilacerate , as the poet says, dilacerate dealing?

LUCRE

Upbraid’st thou me with ‘nephew’? Is all imputation laid upon me? What acquaintance have I with his follies? If he riot, ’tis he must want it; if he surfeit, ‘tis he must feel it; if he drab it, ‘tis he must lie by’t. What’s this to me?

WALKADINE HOARD

What’s all to thee? Nothing, nothing; such is the gulf of thy desire and the wolf of thy conscience. But be assured, old Pecunius Lucre, if ever fortune so bless me that I may be at leisure to vex thee, or any means so favour me that I may have opportunity to mad thee, I will pursue it with that flame of hate, that spirit of malice, unrepressed wrath, that I will blast thy comforts.

LUCRE

Ha, ha, ha!

LAMPREY

Nay, Master Hoard, you’re a wise gentleman.

WALKADINE HOARD

I will so cross thee—

LUCRE

And I thee.

WALKADINE HOARD

So without mercy fret thee—

LUCRE

So monstrously oppose thee—

WALKADINE HOARD

Dost scoff at my just anger? Oh, that I had as much power as usury has over thee!

LUCRE

Then thou wouldst have as much power as the devil has over thee!

WALKADINE HOARD

Toad!

LUCRE

Aspic!

WALKADINE HOARD

Serpent!

LUCRE

Viper!

SPITCHCOCK

Nay, gentlemen, then we must divide you perforce.

LAMPREY

When the fire grows too unreasonable hot, there’s no better way than to take off the wood.

(Exeunt [Lamprey, Spitchcock, Lucre and Walkadine Hoard].)

(Manent Sam [Freedom] and Moneylove)

SAM

A word, good signior.

MONEYLOVE

How now, what’s the news?

SAM

‘Tis given me to understand that you are a rival of mine in the love of Mistress Joyce, Master Hoard’s niece. Say me ay, say me no.

MONEYLOVE

Yes, ‘tis so.

SAM

Then look to yourself; you cannot live long. I’m practising every morning; a month hence I’ll challenge you.

MONEYLOVE

Give me your hand upon’t. There’s my pledge I’ll meet you!

(Strikes him.)

(Exit.)

SAM

Oh! Oh! What reason had you for that, sir, to strike before the month? You knew I was not ready for you, and that made you so crank. I am not such a coward to strike again, I warrant you; my ear has the law of her side, for it burns horribly. I will teach him to strike a naked face, the longest day of his life. ‘Slid, it shall cost me some money, but I’ll bring this box into the Chancery.

(Exit.)

[ACT I SCENE 4]

([A street in London])

(Enter Witgood and the Host)

HOST

Fear you nothing, sir, I have lodg’d her in a house of credit, I warrant you.

WITGOOD

Hast thou the writings?

HOST

Firm, sir.

([Enter Dampit and Gulf, who stand apart])

WITGOOD

Prithee, stay, and behold two [of] the most prodigious rascals that ever slipp’d into the shape of men: Dampit, sirrah, and young Gulf, his fellow caterpillar.

HOST

Dampit? Sure, I have heard of that Dampit.

WITGOOD.

Heard of him? Why, man, he that has lost both his ears may hear of him; a famous infamous trampler of time (his own phrase). Note him well. That Dampit, sirrah, he in the uneven beard and the serge cloak, is the most notorious, usuring, blasphemous, atheistical, brothel-vomiting rascal that we have in these latter times now extant, whose first beginning was the stealing of a mastie dog from a farmer’s house.

HOST

He look’d as if he would obey the commandment[s] well, when he began first with stealing.

WITGOOD

True. The next town he came at, he set the dogs together by th’ears.

HOST

A sign he should follow the law, by my faith.

WITGOOD

So it followed, indeed; and being destitute of all fortunes, stak’d his mastie against a noble, and by great fortune his dog had the day. How he made it up ten shillings I know not, but his own boast is that he came to town with but ten shillings in his purse, and now is credibly worth ten thousand pound.

HOST

How the devil came he by it?

WITGOOD

A pox search you. The very loins of thee!

GULF.

He that walks low walks safe, the poets tell us.

WITGOOD

And nigher Hell by a foot and a half than the rest of his fellows

DAMPIT

My sweet Theodorus!

WITGOOD

‘Twas a merry world when thou cam’st to town with ten shillings in thy purse.

DAMPIT

And now worth ten thousand pound, my boy. Report it: Harry Dampit, a trampler of time; say he would be up in a morning and be here with his serge gown, dash’d up to the hams in a cause, have his feet stink about Westminster Hall, and come home again; see the galleons, the galleasses, the great armadas of the law; then there be hoys and petty vessels, oars and scullers of the time; there be picklocks of the time too. Then would I be here; I would trample up and down like a mule; now to the judges: ‘May it please your reverend, honourable fatherhoods’; then to my counsellor: ‘May it please your worshipful patience’; then to the examiner’s office: ‘May it please your mastership’s gentleness’; then to one of the clerks: ‘May it please your worshipful lousiness’, for I find him scrubbing in his codpiece; then to the hall again; then to the chamber again—

WITGOOD

And when to the cellar again?

DAMPIT

E’en when thou wilt again. Tramplers of time, motions of Fleet Street, and visions of Holborn; here I have fees of one, there I have fees of another; my clients come about me, the fooliaminy and coxcombry of the country. I still trash’d and trotted for other men’s causes; thus was poor Harry Dampit made rich by others’ laziness, who, though they would not follow their own suits, I made ‘em follow me with their purses.

WITGOOD

Didst thou so, old Harry?

DAMPIT

Ay, and I sous’d ‘em with bills of charges, i’ faith; twenty pound a year have I brought in for boat-hire, and I ne’er stepp’d into boat in my life.

WITGOOD

Tramplers of time!

DAMPIT

Ay, tramplers of time, rascals of time, bull-beggars.

WITGOOD

Ah, thou’rt a mad old Harry! Kind Master Gulf, I am bold to renew my acquaintance.

GULF.

I embrace it, sir.

(Music. Exeunt.)

Incipit ACT II [SCENE 1]

([Lucre’s house])

(Enter Lucre)

LUCRE

My adversary ever more twits me with my nephew; forsooth, my nephew, Why may not a virtuous uncle have a dissolute nephew? What though he be a brotheller, a waste-thrift, a common surfeiter, and, to conclude, a beggar? Must sin in him call up shame in me? Since we have no part in their follies, why should we have part in their infamies? For my strict hand towards his mortgage, that I deny not; I confess I had an uncle’s pen’worth. Let me see, half in half, true. I saw neither hope of his reclaiming nor comfort in his being, and was it not then better bestow’d upon his uncle than upon one of his aunts? I need not say ‘bawd’, for everyone knows what ‘aunt’ stands for in the last translation. [Enter Servant] Now, sir?

SERVANT

There’s a country serving-man, sir, attends to speak with your worship.

LUCRE

I’m at best leisure now; send him in to me.

([Exit Servant.])

(Enter Host, like a serving-man)

HOST

Bless your venerable worship.

LUCRE

Welcome, good fellow.

HOST

He calls me thief at first sight, yet he little thinks I am an host.

LUCRE

What’s thy business with me?

HOST

Faith, sir, I am sent from my mistress to any sufficient gentleman indeed, to ask advice upon a doubtful point. ‘Tis indifferent, sir, to whom I come, for I know none, nor did my mistress direct me to any particular man, for she’s as mere a stranger here as myself; only I found your worship within, and ‘tis a thing I ever lov’d, sir, to be dispatch’d as soon as I can.

LUCRE

A good blunt honesty; I like him well.

HOST

Faith, a country gentlewoman, and a widow, sir. Yesterday was the first flight of us, but now she intends to stay until a little term business be ended.

LUCRE

Her name, I prithee.

HOST

It runs there in the writings, sir, among her lands, Widow Medlar.

LUCRE

Medlar? Mass, have I ne’er heard of that widow?

HOST

Yes, I warrant you, have you, sir; not the rich widow in Staffordshire?

LUCRE

Cuds me, there ‘tis, indeed. Thou hast put me into memory. There’s a widow indeed! Ah, that I were a bachelor again.

HOST

No doubt your worship might do much then, but she’s fairly promis’d to a bachelor already.

LUCRE

Ah, what is he, I prithee?

HOST

A country gentleman too, one whom your worship knows not, I’m sure; h’as spent some few follies in his youth, but marriage, by my faith, begins to call him home. My mistress loves him, sir, and love covers faults, you know. One Master Witgood, if ever you have heard of the gentleman.

LUCRE

Ha! Witgood, say’st thou?

HOST

That’s his name indeed, sir. My mistress is like to bring him to a goodly seat yonder; four hundred a year, by my faith.

LUCRE

But, I pray, take me with you.

HOST

Ay, sir.

LUCRE

What countryman might this young Witgood be?

HOST

A Leicestershire gentleman, sir.

LUCRE

My nephew. By th’ mass, my nephew. I’ll fetch out more of this, i’ faith; a simple country fellow, I’ll work’t out of him.

HOST

Faith, he brought her up to town, sir; h’as the best card in all the bunch for’t, her heart; and I know my mistress will be married ere she go down. Nay, I’ll swear that, for she’s none of those widows that will go down first and be married after; she hates that, I can tell you, sir.

LUCRE

By my faith, sir, she is like to have a proper gentleman and a comely; I’ll give her that gift.

HOST

Why, does your worship know him, sir?

LUCRE

I know him? Does not all the world know him? Can a man of such exquisite qualities be hid under a bushel?

HOST

Then your worship may save me a labour, for I had charge given me to inquire after him.

LUCRE

Inquire of him? If I might counsel thee, thou shouldst ne’er trouble thyself further. Inquire of him of no more but of me; I’ll fit thee. I grant he has been youthful, but is he not now reclaim’d? Mark you that, sir. Has not your mistress, think you, been wanton in her youth? If men be wags, are there not women wagtails?

HOST

No doubt, sir.

LUCRE

Does not he return wisest that comes home whipp’d with his own follies?

HOST

Why, very true, sir.

LUCRE

The worst report you can hear of him, I can tell you, is that he has been a kind gentleman, a liberal, and a worthy; who but lusty Witgood, thrice-noble Witgood?

HOST

Since your worship has so much knowledge in him, can you resolve me, sir, what his living might be? My duty binds me, sir, to have a care of my mistress’ estate. She has been ever a good mistress to me, though I say it. Many wealthy suitors has she nonsuited for his sake; yet, though her love be so fix’d, a man cannot tell whether his nonperformance may help to remove it, sir. He makes us believe he has lands and living.

LUCRE

Who? Young Master Witgood? Why believe it, he has as goodly a fine living out yonder—what do you call the place?

HOST

Nay, I know not, i’ faith.

LUCRE

Hum. See like a beast, if I have not forgot the name. Pooh! And out yonder again, goodly grown woods and fair meadows—Pax on’t, I can ne’er hit of that place neither. He? Why, he’s Witgood of Witgood Hall; he, an unknown thing?

HOST

Is he so, sir? To see how rumour will alter! Trust me, sir, we heard once he had no lands, but all lay mortgag’d to an uncle he has in town here.

LUCRE

Push! ‘Tis a tale, ‘tis a tale.

HOST

I can assure you, sir, ‘twas credibly reported to my mistress.

LUCRE

Why, do you think, i’ faith, he was ever so simple to mortgage his lands to his uncle, or his uncle so unnatural to take the extremity of such a mortgage?

HOST

That was my saying still, sir.

LUCRE

Pooh! Ne’er think it.

HOST

Yet that report goes current.

LUCRE

Nay, then, you urge me. 113

Cannot I tell that best that am his uncle. 114

HOST

How, sir! What have I done?

LUCRE

Why, how now? In a sound, man?

HOST

Is your worship his uncle, sir?

LUCRE

Can that be any harm to you, sir?

HOST

I do beseech you, sir, do me the favour to conceal it. What a beast was I to utter so much! Pray, sir, do me the kindness to keep it in. I shall have my coat pull’d o’er my ears an’t should be known; for the truth is, an’t please your worship, to prevent much rumour and many suitors, they intend to be married very suddenly and privately.

LUCRE

And dost thou think it stands with my judgment to do them injury? Must I needs say the knowledge of this marriage comes from thee? Am I a fool at fifty-four? Do I lack subtlety now, that have got all my wealth by it? There’s a leash of angels for thee. Come, let me woo thee. Speak. Where lie they?

HOST

So I might have no anger, sir,—

LUCRE

Passion of me, not a jot. Prithee, come.

HOST

I would not have it known it came by my means.

LUCRE

Why, am I a man of wisdom?

HOST

I dare trust your worship, sir, but I’m a stranger to your house, and to avoid all intelligencers I desire your worship’s ear.

LUCRE

This fellow’s worth a matter of trust. Ah, sirrah nephew!

HOST

Please you, sir, now I have begun with your worship, when shall I attend for your advice upon that doubtful point? I must come warily now.

LUCRE

Tut, fear thou nothing. 143

Tomorrow’s evening shall resolve the doubt. 144

HOST

The time shall cause my attendance.

(Exit.)

LUCRE

Fare thee well. There’s more true honesty in such a country serving-man than in a hundred of our cloak companions. I may well call ‘em companions, for since blue coats have been turn’d into cloaks, we can scarce know the man from the master. George!

([Enter George])

GEORGE

Anon, sir.

LUCRE

List hither. [Whispers] Keep the place secret. Commend me to my nephew. I know no cause, tell him, but he might see his uncle.

GEORGE

I will, sir.

LUCRE

And, do you hear, sir? 156

Take heed you use him with respect and duty. 157

GEORGE

Here’s a strange alteration. One day he must be turn’d out like a beggar, and now he must be call’d in like a knight.

(Exit.)

LUCRE

Ah, sirrah, that rich widow! Four hundred a year! Beside, I hear she lays claim to a title of a hundred more. This falls unhappily that he should bear a grudge to me now, being likely to prove so rich. What is’t, trow, that he makes me a stranger for? Hum, I hope he has not so much wit to apprehend that I cozened him; he deceives me then. Good Heaven, who would have thought it would ever have come to this pass? Yet he’s a proper gentleman, i’ faith, give him his due. Marry, that’s his mortgage, but that I ne’er mean to give him. I’ll make him rich enough in words, if that be good; and if it come to a piece of money, I will not greatly stick for’t. There may be hope some of the widow’s lands too may one day fall upon me, if things be carried wisely. [Enter George] Now, sir, where is he?

GEORGE

He desires your worship to hold him excused; he has such weighty business it commands him wholly from all men.

LUCRE

Were those my nephew’s words?

GEORGE

Yes, indeed, sir.

LUCRE

When men grow rich they grow proud too, I perceive that. He would not have sent me such an answer once within this twelvemonth; see what ‘tis when a man’s come to his lands.

GEORGE

This is good sport, i’ faith.

(Exit.)

LUCRE

Troth, he uses his uncle discourteously now. Can he tell what I may do for him? Goodness may come from me in a minute that comes not in seven year again. He knows my humour; I am not so usually good. ‘Tis no small thing that draws kindness from me; he may know that, and he will. The chief cause that invites me to do him most good is the sudden astonishing of old Hoard, my adversary. How pale his malice will look at my nephew’s advancement! With what a dejected spirit he will behold his fortunes, whom but last day he proclaimed rioter, penurious makeshift, despised brothel-master! Ha, ha! ‘Twill do me more secret joy than my last purchase, more precious comfort than all these widows’ revenues.— Enter [George and] and Witgood Now, sir.

GEORGE

With much entreaty he’s at length come, sir.

([Exit.])

LUCRE

Oh, nephew, let me salute you, sir; you’re welcome, nephew.

WITGOOD

Uncle, I thank you.

LUCRE

Y’ave a fault, nephew: You’re a stranger here. Well, Heaven give you joy!

WITGOOD

Of what, sir?

LUCRE

Ha, we can hear. 208

You might have known your uncle’s house, i’ faith, 209

You and your widow. Go to, you were to blame, 210

If I may tell you so without offence. 211

WITGOOD

How could you hear of that, sir? 212

LUCRE

Oh, pardon me!

It was your will to have it kept from me, I perceive now. 213

WITGOOD

Not for any defect of love, I protest, uncle.

LUCRE

Oh, ‘twas unkindness, nephew. Fie, fie, fie!

WITGOOD

I am sorry you take it in that sense, sir.

LUCRE

Pooh! You cannot colour it, i’ faith, nephew.

WITGOOD

Will you but hear what I can say in my just excuse, sir?

LUCRE

Yes, faith, will I, and welcome.

WITGOOD

You that know my danger i’ th’ city, sir, so well, how great my debts are, and how extreme my creditors, could not out of your pure judgment, sir, have wish’d us hither.

LUCRE

Mass, a firm reason indeed.

WITGOOD

Else my uncle’s house, why, ‘t ‘ad been the only make-match—

LUCRE

Nay, and thy credit.

WITGOOD

My credit? Nay, my countenance! Push! Nay, I know, uncle, you would have wrought it so. By your wit you would have made her believe in time the whole house had been mine—

LUCRE

Ay, and most of the goods too.

WITGOOD

La, you there. Well, let ‘em all prate what they will, there’s nothing like the bringing of a widow to one’s uncle’s house.

LUCRE

Nay, let nephews be ruled as they list, they shall find their uncle’s house the most natural place when all’s done.

WITGOOD

There they may be bold.

LUCRE

Life, they may do anything there, man, and fear neither beadle nor sum’ner. An uncle’s house, a very Cole Harbour! Sirrah, I’ll touch thee near now. Hast thou so much interest in thy widow that by a token thou couldst presently send for her?

WITGOOD

Troth, I think I can, uncle.

LUCRE

Go to, let me see that.

WITGOOD

Pray, command one of your men hither, uncle.

LUCRE

George!

([Enter George])

GEORGE

Here, sir.

LUCRE

I love a’ life to prattle with a rich widow; ‘tis pretty, methinks, when our tongues go together, and then to promise much and perform little. I love that sport a’ life, i’ faith, yet I am in the mood now to do my nephew some good, if he take me handsomely.

WITGOOD

I ha’ sent, sir.

LUCRE

Yet I must condemn you of unkindness, nephew.

WITGOOD

Heaven forbid, uncle!

LUCRE

Yes, faith, must I. Say your debts be many, your creditors importunate, yet the kindness of a thing is all, nephew; you might have sent me close word on’t, without the least danger or prejudice to your fortunes.

WITGOOD

Troth, I confess it, uncle; I was too blame there, but indeed my intent was to have clapp’d it up suddenly, and so have broke forth like a joy to my friends and a wonder to the world. Beside, there’s a trifle of a forty-pound matter towards the setting of me forth. My friends should ne’er have known on’t; I meant to make shift for that myself.

LUCRE

How, nephew! Let me not hear such a word again, I beseech you. Shall I be beholding to you?

WITGOOD

To me? Alas, what do you mean, uncle?

LUCRE

I charge you, upon my love. You trouble nobody but myself.

WITGOOD.

Y’ave no reason for that, uncle.

LUCRE

Troth, I’ll ne’er be friends with you while you live and you do.

WITGOOD

Nay, and you say so, uncle. Here’s my hand; I will not do’t—

LUCRE

Why, well said. There’s some hope in thee when thou wilt be ruled. I’ll make it up fifty, faith, because I see thee so reclaimed. Peace, here comes my wife with Sam, her tother husband’s son.

([Enter Wife and Sam Freedom])

WITGOOD

Good aunt,—

SAM

Cousin Witgood! I rejoice in my salute; you’re most welcome to this noble city, govern’d with the sword in the scabbard.

WITGOOD

And the wit in the pommel!

LUCRE

By the mass, she’s coming, wife; let me see now how thou wilt entertain her.

WIFE

I hope I am not to learn, sir, to entertain a widow; ‘tis not so long ago since I was one myself.

([Enter Courtesan])

WITGOOD

Uncle,—

LUCRE

She’s come indeed.

WITGOOD

My uncle was desirous to see you, widow, and I presum’d to invite you.

COURTESAN

The presumption was nothing. Master Witgood. Is this your uncle, sir?

LUCRE

Marry am I, sweet widow, and his good uncle he shall find me. Ay, by this smack that I give thee, thou’rt welcome. Wife, bid the widow welcome the same way again.

SAM

I am a gentleman now too, by my father’s occupation, and I see no reason but I may kiss a widow by my father’s copy. Truly, I think the charter is not against it; surely these are the words: ‘The son, once a gentleman, may revel it, though his father were a dauber’. ‘Tis about the fifteenth page. I’ll to her.

([Attempts to kiss the Courtesan and is repulsed])

LUCRE

Y’are not very busy now; a word with thee, sweet widow.

SAM

Coad’s nigs! I was never so disgrac’d since the hour my mother whipp’d me!

LUCRE

Beside, I have no child of mine own to care for; she’s my second wife, old, past bearing. Clap sure to him, widow; he’s like to be my heir, I can tell you.

COURTESAN

Is he so, sir?

LUCRE

He knows it already, and the knave’s proud on’t. Jolly rich widows have been offer’d him here i’ th’ city, great merchants’ wives, and do you think he would once look upon ‘em? Forsooth, he’ll none. You are beholding to him i’ th’ country then, ere we could be; nay, I’ll hold a wager, widow, if he were once known to be in town, he would be presently sought after; nay, and happy were they that could catch him first.

COURTESAN

I think so.

LUCRE

Oh, there would be such running to and fro, widow, he should not pass the streets for ‘em; he’d be took up in one great house or other presently. Faugh, they know he has it and must have it. You see this house here, widow? This house and all comes to him! Goodly rooms ready furnish’d, ceil’d with plaster of Paris, and all hung about with cloth of arras. Nephew!

WITGOOD

Sir?

LUCRE

Nephew, strike all sure above and thou be’st a good boy. Ah,

WITGOOD

Alas, sir, I know not how she would take it.

LUCRE

So, let ‘em agree as they will now. Many a match has been struck up in my house i’ this fashion. Let ’em try all manner of ways, still there’s nothing like an uncle’s house to strike the stroke in. I’ll hold my wife in talk a little.

WIFE

Well, we must do as we may, sir.

LUCRE

I’ll have his money ready told for him again he come down. Let me see too. By th’ mass, I must present the widow with some jewel, a good piece of plate, or such a device; ‘twill hearten her on well. I have a very fair standing cup, and a good high standing cup will please a widow above all other pieces.

(Exit.)

WIFE

Do you mock us with your nephew? I have a plot in my head, son; i’ faith, husband, to cross you.

SAM

Is it a tragedy plot or a comedy plot, good mother?

WIFE

‘Tis a plot shall vex him. I charge you, of my blessing, son Sam, that you presently withdraw the action of your love from Master Hoard’s niece.

SAM

How, mother!

WIFE

Nay, I have a plot in my head, i’ faith. Here, take this chain of gold and this fair diamond. Dog me the widow home to her lodging, and at thy best opportunity fasten ‘em both upon her. Nay, I have a reach I can tell you. Thou art known what thou art, son, among the right worshipful, all the twelve companies.

SAM

Truly, I thank ‘em for it.

WIFE

He? He’s a scab to thee! And so certify her thou hast two hundred a year of thyself, besides thy good parts, a proper person and a lovely. If I were a widow I could find it in my heart to have thee myself, son, ay, from ‘em all.

SAM

Thank you for your good will, mother, but indeed I had rather have a stranger. And if I woo her not in that violent fashion, that I will make her be glad to take these gifts ere I leave her, let me never be called the heir of your body.

WIFE

Nay, I know there’s enough in you, son, if you once come to put it forth.

SAM

I’ll quickly make a bolt or a shaft on’t.

(Exeunt.)

[ACT II SCENE 2]

([A street in London])

(Enter Moneylove and [Walkadine] Hoard)

MONEYLOVE

Faith, Master Hoard, I have bestowed many months in the suit of your niece, such was the dear love I ever bore to her virtues, but since she hath so extremely denied me, I am to lay out for my fortunes elsewhere.

WALKADINE HOARD

Heaven forbid but you should, sir; I ever told you my niece stood otherwise affected.

MONEYLOVE

I must confess you did, sir; yet in regard of my great loss of time and the zeal with which I sought your niece, shall I desire one favour of your worship?

WALKADINE HOARD

In regard of those two, ‘tis hard, but you shall, sir.

MONEYLOVE

I shall rest grateful. ‘Tis not full three hours, sir, since the happy rumour of a rich country widow came to my hearing.

WALKADINE HOARD

How! A rich country widow?

MONEYLOVE

Four hundred a year, landed.

WALKADINE HOARD

Yea?

MONEYLOVE

Most firm, sir, and I have learn’d her lodging. Here my suit begins, sir: If I might but entreat your worship to be a countenance for me and speak a good word—for your words will pass—I nothing doubt but I might set fair for the widow; nor shall your labour, sir, end altogether in thanks—two hundred angels—

WALKADINE HOARD

So, so. What suitors has she?

MONEYLOVE

There lies the comfort, sir; the report of her is yet but a whisper, and only solicited by young riotous Witgood, nephew to your mortal adversary.

WALKADINE HOARD

Ha! Art certain he’s her suitor?

MONEYLOVE

Most certain, sir, and his uncle very industrious to beguile the widow and make up the match.

WALKADINE HOARD

So! Very good.

MONEYLOVE

Now, sir, you know this young Witgood is a spendthrift, dissolute fellow.

WALKADINE HOARD

A very rascal.

MONEYLOVE

A midnight surfeiter.

WALKADINE HOARD

The spume of a brothel-house.

MONEYLOVE

True, sir; which being well told in your worship’s phrase may both heave him out of her mind, and drive a fair way for me to the widow’s affections.

WALKADINE HOARD

Attend me about five.

MONEYLOVE

With my best care, sir.

(Exit.)

WALKADINE HOARD

Fool, thou hast left thy treasure with a thief, 40

To trust a widower with a suit in love! 41

Happy revenge, I hug thee. I have not only the means laid before me extremely to cross my adversary and confound the last hopes of his nephew, but thereby to enrich my state, augment my revenues, and build mine own fortunes greater. Ha, ha!

I’ll mar your phrase, o’erturn your flatteries, 46

Undo your windings, policies, and plots, 47

Fall like a secret and dispatchful plague 48

On your secured comforts. Why, I am able 49

To buy three of Lucre, thrice outbid him, 50

Let my out-monies be reckon’d and all. 51

([Moves aside.])

(Enter three Creditors)

1 CREDITOR

I am glad of this news.

2 CREDITOR

So are we, by my faith.

3 CREDITOR

Young Witgood will be a gallant again now.

WALKADINE HOARD

Peace!

1 CREDITOR

I promise you, Master Cockpit, she’s a mighty rich widow.

2 CREDITOR

Why, have you ever heard of her?

1 CREDITOR

Who, widow Medlar? She lies open to much rumour.

3 CREDITOR

Four hundred a year, they say, in very good land.

1 CREDITOR

Nay, tak't of my word, if you believe that, you believe the least.

2 CREDITOR

And to see how close he keeps it!

1 CREDITOR

Oh, sir, there’s policy in that, to prevent better suitors.

3 CREDITOR

He owes me a hundred pound, and I protest I ne’er look’d for a penny.

1 CREDITOR

He little dreams of our coming; he’ll wonder to see his creditors upon him.

(Exeunt [Creditors].)

WALKADINE HOARD

Good, his creditors. I’ll follow. This makes for me. 69

All know the widow’s wealth, and ‘tis well known 70

I can estate her fairly, ay, and will. 71

In this one chance shines a twice-happy fate; 72

I both deject my foe and raise my state. 73

(Music. Exit.)

Incipit ACT III [SCENE 1]

([A street in London])

([Enter] Witgood and his Creditors)

WITGOOD

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.

1 CREDITOR

Master Witgood, I have forborne my money long.

WITGOOD

I pray, speak low, sir. What do you mean?

2 CREDITOR

We hear you are to married suddenly to a rich country widow.

WITGOOD

What can be kept so close but you creditors hear on’t? Well, ‘tis a lamentable state that our chiefest afflicters 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.

1 CREDITOR

He says true, i’ faith.

WITGOOD

Remove me now, and I consume for ever.

2 CREDITOR

Sweet gentleman!

WITGOOD

How can it thrive which from the sun you sever?

3 CREDITOR

It cannot indeed.

WITGOOD

Oh, then, show patience; I shall have enough 20

To satisfy you all. 21

1 CREDITOR

Ay, if we could

Be content, a shame take us. 22

WITGOOD

For, look you,

I am but newly sure yet to the widow, 23

And what a rend might this discredit make! 24

Within these three days will I bind you lands 25

For your securities. 26

1 CREDITOR

No, good Master Witgood;

Would ‘twere as much as we dare trust you with. 27

WITGOOD

I know you have been kind; however, now 28

Either by wrong report or false incitement, 29

Your gentleness is injur’d; in such 30

A state as this a man cannot want foes. 31

If on the sudden he begin to rise, 32

No man that lives can count his enemies. 33

You had some intelligence, I warrant ye, 34

From an ill-willer. 35

2 CREDITOR

Faith, we heard you brought up a rich widow, sir, and were suddenly to marry her.

WITGOOD

Ay. Why, there it was; I knew ‘twas so. But since you are so well resolv’d of my faith toward you, let me be so much favour’d of you, I beseech you all—

ALL

Oh, it shall not need, i’ faith, sir,—

WITGOOD

As to lie still awhile and bury my debts in silence, till I be fully possess’d of the widow. For the truth is, I may tell you as my friends—

ALL

Oh, oh, oh!

WITGOOD

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 divulg’d, all hope of my proceedings were quite extinguish’d.

1 CREDITOR

[To Witgood] 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 receiv’d as I came to you; if that may stand you in any stead, make use on’t. Nay, pray, sir, ‘tis at your service.

WITGOOD

[To 1 Creditor] You do so ravish me with kindness that I’m constrain’d to play the maid and take it.

1 CREDITOR

[To Witgood] Let none of them see it, I beseech you.

WITGOOD

Faugh!

1 CREDITOR

[To Witgood] I hope I shall be first in your remembrance 59

After the marriage rites. 60

WITGOOD

[To 1 Creditor] Believe it firmly.

1 CREDITOR

So.—What, do you walk, sirs?

2 CREDITOR

I go. [To Witgood] Take no care, sir, for money to furnish you. Within this hour I’ll send you sufficient.—Come, Master Cockpit, we both stay for you.

3 CREDITOR

I ha’ lost a ring, i’ faith; I’ll follow you presently. [Exeunt 1 and 2 Creditors] But you shall find it, sir. I know your youth and expenses have disfunish’d you of all jewels. There’s a ruby of twenty pound price, sir; bestow it upon your widow. What, man! ‘Twill call up her blood to you. Beside, if I might so much work with you, I would not have you beholding to those blood-suckers for any money.

WITGOOD

Not I, believe it.

3 CREDITOR

Th’are a brace of cutthroats.

WITGOOD

I know ‘em.

3 CREDITOR

Send a note of all your wants to my shop, and I’ll supply you instantly.

WITGOOD

Say you so? Why, here’s my hand then; no man living shall do’t but thyself.

3 CREDITOR

Shall I carry it away from ‘em both then?

WITGOOD

I’ faith, shalt thou.

3 CREDITOR

Troth, then, I thank you, sir.

WITGOOD

Welcome, good Master Cockpit. Exit [3 Creditor] Ha, ha, ha! Why, is not this better now than lying abed? 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. Oh 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!

(Enter Courtesan)

COURTESAN

Master Witgood, where are you?

WITGOOD

Holla!

COURTESAN

Rich news!

WITGOOD

Would ‘twere all in plate!

COURTESAN

There’s some in chains and jewels. I am so haunted with suitors, Master Witgood, I know not which to dispatch first.

WITGOOD

You have the better term, by my faith!

COURTESAN

Among the number, 97

One Master Hoard, an ancient gentleman. 98

WITGOOD

Upon my life, my uncle’s adversary!

COURTESAN

It may well hold so, for he rails on you, 100

Speaks shamefully of him. 101

WITGOOD

As I could wish it.

COURTESAN

I first denied him, but so cunningly 102

It rather promis’d him assured hopes 103

Than any loss of labour. 104

WITGOOD

Excellent.

COURTESAN

I expect him every hour, with gentlemen 105

With whom he labours to make good his words, 106

To approve you riotous, your state consum’d, 107

Your uncle— 108

WITGOOD

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 doting 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 bestow’d. I have a care of thee, i’ faith.

COURTESAN

Thanks, sweet Master Witgood.

WITGOOD

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.

COURTESAN

Step in. I think I hear ‘em.

(Exeunt)

[ACT III SCENE 2]

([The Courtesan’s lodgings])

(Enter [Walkadine] Hoard and Gentlemen, Gentlemen, Lawrence annotates “Perhaps Lamprey and Spitchcock” (p. 34) with the Host [as] serving-man)

WALKADINE HOARD

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.

WALKADINE HOARD

Hark hither. I hear say thou art in most credit with her.

HOST

Not so, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

Come, come, thou’rt modest. There’s a brace of royals; prithee, help me to th’ speech of her.

HOST

I’ll do what I may, sir, always saving myself harmless.

WALKADINE HOARD

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!

(Exit)

WALKADINE HOARD

Now, my dear gentlemen, stand firmly to me. 18

You know his follies and my worth. 19

1 GENTLEMAN

We do, sir.

2 GENTLEMAN

But, Master Hoard, are you sure he is not i’ th’ house now?

WALKADINE HOARD

Upon my honesty, I chose this time 22

A’ purpose, fit. The spendthrift is abroad. 23

Assist me; here she comes. 24

([Enter Courtesan])

Now, my sweet widow.

COURTESAN

Y’are welcome, Master Hoard. 25

WALKADINE HOARD

[To Gentlemen] Dispatch, sweet gentlemen, dispatch.— 26

I am come, widow, to prove those my words 27

Neither of envy sprung nor of false tongues, 28

But such as their deserts and actions 29

Do merit and bring forth; all which these gentlemen, 30

Well known and better reputed, will confess. 31

COURTESAN

I cannot tell 32

How my affections may dispose of me, 33

But surely if they find him so desertless 34

They’ll have that reason to withdraw themselves. 35

And therefore, gentlemen, I do entreat you, 36

As you are fair in reputation, 37

And in appearing form, so shine in truth. 38

I am a widow, and, alas, you know 39

Soon overthrown; ‘tis a very small thing 40

That we withstand, our weakness is so great. 41

Be partial unto neither, but deliver, 42

Without affection, your opinion. 43

WALKADINE HOARD

And that will drive it home. 44

COURTESAN

Nay, I beseech your silence, Master Hoard; 45

You are a party. 46

WALKADINE HOARD

Widow, not a word!

1 GENTLEMAN

The better first to work you to belief, 47

Know neither of us owe him flattery, 48

Nor tother malice, but unbribed censure, 49

So help us our best fortunes. 50

COURTESAN

It suffices.

1 GENTLEMAN

That Witgood is a riotous, undone man, 51

Imperfect both in fame and in estate, 52

His debts wealthier than he, and executions 53

In wait for his due body, we’ll maintain 54

With our best credit and our dearest blood. 55

COURTESAN

Nor land nor living, say you? Pray, take heed 56

You do not wrong the gentleman. 57

1 GENTLEMAN

What we speak

Our lives and means are ready to make good. 58

COURTESAN

Alas, how soon are we poor souls beguil’d! 59

2 GENTLEMAN

And for his uncle,— 60

WALKADINE HOARD

Let that come to me.

His uncle, a severe extortioner, 61

A tyrant at a forfeiture, greedy of others’ 62

Miseries, one that would undo his brother, 63

Nay, swallow up his father if he can, 64

Within the fathoms of his conscience. 65

1 GENTLEMAN

Nay, believe it, widow, 66

You had not only match’d yourself to wants, 67

But in an evil and unnatural stock. 68

WALKADINE HOARD

[To Gentlemen] Follow hard, gentlemen, follow hard!

COURTESAN

Is my love so deceiv’d? Before you all 71

I do renounce him; on my knees I vow 72

He ne’er shall marry me. 73

([Witgood looks in])

WITGOOD

Heaven knows he never meant it!

WALKADINE HOARD

[To Gentlemen] There, take her at the bound.

1 GENTLEMAN

Then, with a new and pure affection, 76

Behold yon gentleman, grave, kind, and rich, 77

A match worthy yourself. Esteeming him, 78

You do regard your state. 79

WALKADINE HOARD

[To 1 Gentleman] I’ll make her a jointure, say. 80

1 GENTLEMAN

He can join land to land and will possess you 81

Of what you can desire. 82

2 GENTLEMAN

Come, widow, come.

COURTESAN

The world is so deceitful. 83

1 GENTLEMAN

There, ‘tis deceitful,

Where flattery, want, and imperfection lies. 84

But none of these in him. Push! 85

COURTESAN

Pray, sir,—

1 GENTLEMAN

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.

WALKADINE HOARD

With all my heart, widow. Thanks, gentlemen; 90

I will deserve your labour, and thy love. 91

COURTESAN

Alas, you love not widows but for wealth. 92

I promise you I ha’ nothing, sir. 93

WALKADINE HOARD

Well said, widow,

Well said! Thy love is all I seek, before 94

These gentlemen. 95

COURTESAN

Now I must hope the best.

WALKADINE HOARD

My joys are such they want to be express’d.

COURTESAN

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 perjur’d Witgood and his tedious, dissembling uncle, who this very, very day hath appointed a meeting for the same purpose too, where, had not truth come forth, I had been undone, utterly undone?

WALKADINE HOARD

What think you of that, gentlemen?

1 GENTLEMAN

‘Twas well devis’d.

WALKADINE HOARD

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, where by some sleight, removing him from thee, we’ll suddenly enter and surprise thee, carry thee away by boat to Cole Harbour, have a priest ready, and there clap it up instantly. How lik’st it, widow?

COURTESAN

In that it pleaseth you, it likes me well.

WALKADINE HOARD

I’ll kiss thee for those words. Come, gentlemen; 113

Still must I live a suitor to your favours, 114

Still to your aid beholding. 115

1 GENTLEMAN

We’re engag’d, sir;

‘Tis for our credits now to see’t well ended. 116

WALKADINE HOARD

‘Tis for your honours, gentlemen. Nay, look to’t. 117

Not only in joy, but I in wealth excel. 118

No more sweet widow, but sweet wife, farewell. 119

COURTESAN

Farewell, sir.

(Exeunt [Walkadine Hoard and Gentlemen])

(Enter Witgood)

WITGOOD

Oh for more scope! I could laugh eternally. Give you joy, Mistress Hoard! I promis[‘d] your fortune was good, forsooth; y’ave 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—

([Enter Host])

HOST

Master Witgood, your uncle—

WITGOOD

Cuds me! Remove thyself a while; I’ll serve for him.

([Exeunt Courtesan and Host])

(Enter Lucre)

LUCRE

Nephew, good morrow, nephew.

WITGOOD

The same to you, kind uncle.

LUCRE

How fares the widow? Does the meeting hold?

WITGOOD

Oh, no question of that, sir.

LUCRE

I’ll strike the stroke then for thee; no more days.

WITGOOD

The sooner the better, uncle. Oh, she’s mightily followed.

LUCRE

And yet so little rumour’d.

WITGOOD

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’s a merchant’s son will possess her with no less than three goodly lordships at once, which were all pawns to his father.

LUCRE

Peace, nephew, let me hear no more of ‘em; it mads me. Thou shalt prevent ‘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.

([Exit])

WITGOOD

Oh, my precious uncle!

[ACT III SCENE 3]

([Walkadine Hoard’s house])

(Enter [Walkadine] Hoard and his Niece)

WALKADINE HOARD

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.)

NIECE

But ‘tis not likely you should choose for me, 6

Since nephew to your chiefest enemy 7

Is he whom I affect. But, O forgetful, 8

Why dost thou flatter thy affections so, 9

With name of him that for a widow’s bed 10

Neglects thy purer love? Can it be so, 11

Or does report dissemble? 12

([Enter George])

How now, sir?

GEORGE

A letter, with which came a private charge. 13

NIECE

Therein I thank your care. 14

([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. No more shall fear or doubt 19

Raise their pale powers to keep affection out. 20

(Exit)

[ACT III SCENE 4]

([An inn])

(Enter, with a Drawer, [Walkadine] Hoard and two Gentlemen Gentlemen Lawrence annotates “Perhaps Lamprey and Spitchcock” (p. 39).)

DRAWER

You’re very welcome, gentlemen. Dick, show these gentlemen the Pom’granate there.

WALKADINE HOARD

Hist!

DRAWER

Up those stairs, gentlemen.

WALKADINE HOARD

Pist, drawer!

DRAWER

Anon, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

Prithee, ask at the bar if a gentlewoman came not in lately.

DRAWER

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.

DRAWER

He says none came in yet, sir, but one Mistress Florence.

WALKADINE HOARD

What is that Florence? A widow?

DRAWER

Yes, a Dutch widow.

WALKADINE HOARD

How!

DRAWER

That’s an English drab, sir. Give your worship good morrow.

([Exit])

WALKADINE HOARD

A merry knave, i’ faith! I shall remember ‘a Dutch widow’ the longest day of my life.

1 GENTLEMAN

Did not I use most art to win the widow?

2 GENTLEMAN

You shall pardon me for that, sir; Master Hoard knows I took her at best ‘vantage.

WALKADINE HOARD

What’s that, sweet gentlemen, what’s that?

2 GENTLEMAN

He will needs bear me down that his art only wrought with the widow most.

WALKADINE HOARD

Oh, you did both well, gentlemen, you did both well, I thank you.

1 GENTLEMAN

I was the first that mov’d her. 29

WALKADINE HOARD

You were, i’ faith.

2 GENTLEMAN

But it was I that took her at the bound.

WALKADINE HOARD

Ay, that was you; faith, gentlemen, ‘tis right.

1 GENTLEMAN

I boasted least, but ‘twas I join’d their hands.

WALKADINE HOARD

By th’ mass, I think he did. You did all well, Gentlemen, you did all well. Contend no more.

1 GENTLEMAN

Come, yon room’s fittest. 35

WALKADINE HOARD

True, ‘tis next the door.

(Exeunt)

(Enter [Drawer,] Witgood, Courtesan, and Host)

DRAWER

You’re very welcome. Please you to walk upstairs; cloth’s laid, sir.

COURTESAN

Upstairs? Troth, I am weary, Master Witgood.

WITGOOD

Rest yourself here awhile, widow. We’ll have a cup of muscadine in this little room.

DRAWER

A cup of muscadine? You shall have the best, sir.

WITGOOD

But, do you hear, sirrah?

DRAWER

Do you call? Anon, sir.

WITGOOD

What is there provided for dinner?

DRAWER

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, priggin’ rascal! He has his part without book.

WITGOOD

Against you are ready to drink to me, widow, I’ll be present to pledge you.

COURTESAN

Nay, I commend your care; ‘tis done well of you. [Exit Witgood] Alas, what have I forgot?

HOST

What, mistress?

COURTESAN

I slipp’d my wedding ring off when I wash’d, 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.

COURTESAN

Come hither, sirrah. Learn secretly if one Master Hoard, an ancient gentleman, be about house.

BOY

I heard such a one nam’d.

COURTESAN

Commend me to him.

([Exit Boy])

(Enter [Walkadine] Hoard with Gentlemen)

WALKADINE HOARD

I’ll do thy commendations.

COURTESAN

Oh, you come well. Away! To boat! Begone!

WALKADINE HOARD

Thus wise men are reveng’d, give two for one.

(Exeunt)

(Enter Witgood and Vintner)

WITGOOD

I must request 66

You, sir, to show extraordinary care. 67

My uncle comes with gentlemen, his friends, 68

And ‘tis upon a making. 69

VINTNER

Is it so?

I’ll give a special charge, good Master Witgood. 70

May I be bold to see her? 71

WITGOOD

Who, the widow?

With all my heart, i’ faith. I’ll bring you to her. 72

VINTNER

If she be a Staffordshire gentlewoman, ‘tis much if I know her not.

WITGOOD

How now? Boy! Drawer!

VINTNER

Hie!

([Enter Boy])

BOY

Do you call, sir?

WITGOOD

Went the gentlewoman up that was here?

BOY

Up, sir? She went out, sir.

WITGOOD

Out, sir?

BOY

Out, sir. One Master Hoard, with a guard of gentlemen, carried her out at back door a pretty while since, sir.

([Exit Boy])

WITGOOD

Hoard? Death and darkness! Hoard?

(Enter Host)

HOST

The devil of ring I can find!

WITGOOD

How now? What news? Where’s the widow?

HOST

My mistress? Is she not here, sir?

WITGOOD

More madness yet! 87

HOST

She sent me for a ring.

WITGOOD

A plot, a plot! To boat! She’s stole away.

HOST

What?

(Enter Lucre with Gentlemen Gentlemen Lawrence annotates “Friends to Lucre” (p. 42).)

WITGOOD

Follow! Inquire! Old Hoard, my uncle’s adversary,—

([Exit Host])

LUCRE

Nephew, what’s that? 91

WITGOOD

Thrice-miserable wretch!

LUCRE

Why, what’s the matter? 92

VINTNER

The widow’s borne away, sir.

LUCRE

Ha! Passion of me! A heavy welcome, gentlemen.

1 GENTLEMAN

The widow gone?

LUCRE

Who durst attempt it?

WITGOOD

Who but old Hoard, my uncle’s adversary?

LUCRE

How!

WITGOOD

With his confederates.

LUCRE

Hoard, my deadly enemy! Gentlemen, stand to me. 99

I will not bear it. ‘Tis in hate of me 100

That villain seeks my shame, nay, thirsts my blood. 101

He owes me mortal malice. 102

I’ll spend my wealth on this despiteful plot, 103

Ere he shall cross me and my nephew thus. 104

WITGOOD

So maliciously!

(Enter Host)

LUCRE

How now, you treacherous rascal?

HOST

That’s none of my name, sir.

WITGOOD

Poor soul, he knew not on’t.

LUCRE

I’m sorry. I see then ‘twas a mere plot. 109

HOST

I trac’d ‘em nearly,— 110

LUCRE

Well?

HOST

And hear for certain

They have took Cole Harbour. 111

LUCRE

The devil’s sanctuary!

They shall not rest. I’ll pluck her from his arms. 112

Kind and dear gentlemen, 113

If ever I had seat within your breasts,— 114

1 GENTLEMAN

No more, good sir. It is a wrong to us 115

To see you injur’d. In a cause so just 116

We’ll spend our lives, but we will right our friends. 117

LUCRE

Honest and kind! Come, we have delay’d too long. 118

Nephew, take comfort; a just cause is strong. 119

WITGOOD

That’s all my comfort, uncle. 120

(Exeunt [Lucre, Gentlemen and Host])

Ha, ha, ha!

Now may events fall luckily and well; 121

He that ne’er strives, says wit, shall ne’er excel. 122

(Exit)

[ACT III SCENE 5]

([Dampit’s house])

(Enter Dampit, the usurer, drunk)

DAMPIT

When did I say my prayers? In anno ‘88, when the great armada was coming, and in anno ‘99, when the great thund’ring and lightning was. I pray’d heartily then, i’ faith, to overthrow Povey’s new buildings. I kneel’d by my great iron chest, I remember.

([Enter Audrey])

AUDREY

Master Dampit, one may hear you before they see you. You keep sweet hours, Master Dampit. We were all abed three hours ago.

DAMPIT

Audrey?

AUDREY

Oh, y’are a fine gentleman!

DAMPIT

So I am, i’ faith, and a fine scholar. Do you use to go to bed so early, Audrey?

AUDREY

Call you this early, Master Dampit?

DAMPIT

Why, is’t not one of clock i’ th’ morning? Is not that early enough? Fetch me a glass of fresh beer.

AUDREY

Here, I have warm’d your nightcap for you, Master Dampit.

DAMPIT

Draw it on then, I am very weak truly. I have not eaten so much as the bulk of an egg these three days.

AUDREY

You have drunk the more, Master Dampit.

DAMPIT

What’s that?

AUDREY

You mought and you would, Master Dampit.

DAMPIT

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.

AUDREY

May I ask you how you do, Master Dampit?

DAMPIT

How do I? I’ faith, naught.

AUDREY

I ne’er knew you do otherwise.

DAMPIT

I eat not one penn’ort’ of bread these two years. Give me a glass of fresh beer, I am not sick, nor I am not well.

AUDREY

Take this warm napkin about your neck, sir, whilst I help you make you unready.

DAMPIT

How now, Audrey-prater, with your scurvy devices, what say you now?

AUDREY

What say I, Master Dampit? I say nothing but that you are very weak.

DAMPIT

Faith, thou hast more cony-catching devices than all London.

AUDREY

Why, Master Dampit, I never deceiv’d you in all my life.

DAMPIT

Why was that? Because I never did trust thee.

AUDREY

I care not what you say, Master Dampit.

DAMPIT

Hold thy prating. I answer thee, thou art a beggar, a quean, and a bawd. Are you answer’d?

AUDREY

Fie, Master Dampit! A gentleman, and have such words!

DAMPIT

Why, thou base drudge of infortunity, thou kitchen-stuff drab of beggary, roguery, and coxcombry, thou cavernesed quean of foolery, knavery, and bawdreaminy, I’ll tell thee what, I will not give a louse for thy fortunes.

AUDREY

No, Master Dampit, and there’s a gentleman comes a-wooing to me, and he doubts nothing but that you will get me from him.

DAMPIT

I? If I would either have thee or lie with thee for two thousand pound, would I might be damn’d! Why, thou base, impudent quean of foolery, flattery, and coxcombry, are you answer’d?

AUDREY

Come, will you rise and go to bed, sir?

DAMPIT

Rise and go to bed too, Audrey. How does Mistress Proserpine?

AUDREY

Fooh!

DAMPIT

She’s as fine a philosopher of a stinkard’s wife as any within the liberties. Faugh, faugh, Audrey!

AUDREY

How now, Master Dampit?

DAMPIT

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.

AUDREY

It waits for you above, sir.

DAMPIT

Fooh, I think they burn horns in Barnard’s Inn. If ever I smell’d such an abominable stink, usury forsake me.

([Exit])

AUDREY

They be the stinking nails of his trampling feet, and he talks of burning of horns.

(Exit)

Incipit ACT IV [SCENE 1]

([A house at Cole Harbour])

(Enter, at Cole Harbour, [Walkadine] Hoard, the Widow, and Gentlemen, Gentlemen, Lawrence annotates “Spitchcock and Lamprey” (p. 45), but editors since Michael Taylor (1995) assign the first speech to Lamprey. he married now)

1 GENTLEMAN

Join hearts, join hands, 1

In wedlock’s bands; 2

Never to part, 3

Till death cleave your heart. 4

You shall forsake all other women; 5

You, lords, knights, gentlemen, and yeomen. 6

What my tongue slips 7

Make up with your lips. 8

WALKADINE HOARD

Give you joy, Mistress Hoard; let the kiss come about. 9

Who knocks? Convey my little pig-eater out. 10

LUCRE

[Within] Hoard! 11

WALKADINE HOARD

Upon my life, my adversary, gentlemen! 12

LUCRE

[Within] Hoard, open the door or we will force it ope. 13

Give us the widow. 14

WALKADINE HOARD

Gentlemen, keep ‘em out.

LAMPREY

He comes upon his death that enters here. 15

LUCRE

[Within] My friends, assist me. 16

WALKADINE HOARD

He has assistants, gentlemen.

LAMPREY

Tut! Nor him nor them, we in this action fear. 17

LUCRE

[Within] Shall I in peace speak one word with the widow? 18

COURTESAN

Husband and gentlemen, hear me but a word. 19

WALKADINE HOARD

Freely, sweet wife. 20

COURTESAN

Let him in peaceably;

You know we’re sure from any act of his. 21

WALKADINE HOARD

Most true. 22

COURTESAN

You may stand by and smile at his old weakness. 23

Let me alone to answer him. 24

WALKADINE HOARD

Content.

‘Twill be good mirth, i’ faith. How think you, gentlemen? 25

LAMPREY

Good gullery! 26

WALKADINE HOARD

Upon calm conditions, let him in.

LUCRE

[Within] All spite and malice— 27

LAMPREY

Hear me, Master Lucre.

So you will vow a peaceful entrance 28

With those your friends, and only exercise 29

Calm conference with the widow, without fury, 30

The passage shall receive you. 31

LUCRE

[Within] I do vow it.

LAMPREY

Then enter and talk freely. Here she stands. 32

(Enter Lucre [, his friends, and Host])

LUCRE

Oh, Master Hoard, your spite has watch’d the hour. 33

You’re excellent at vengeance, Master Hoard. 34

WALKADINE HOARD

Ha, ha, ha!

LUCRE

I am the fool you laugh at. 36

You are wise, sir, and know the seasons. Well, 37

Come hither, widow. 38

([They speak apart])

Why, is it thus?

Oh, you have done me infinite disgrace 39

And your own credit no small injury. 40

Suffer mine enemy so despitefully 41

To bear you from my nephew? Oh, I had 42

Rather half my substance had been forfeit 43

And begg’d by some starv’d rascal. 44

COURTESAN

Why, what would you wish me do, sir? 45

I must not overthrow my state for love; 46

We have too many precedents for that. 47

From thousands of our wealthy undone widows 48

One may derive some wit. I do confess 49

I lov’d your nephew; nay, I did affect him 50

Against the mind and liking of my friends, 51

Believ’d his promises, lay here in hope 52

Of flatter’d living and the boast of lands. 53

Coming to touch his wealth and state indeed, 54

It appears dross. I find him not the man; 55

Imperfect, mean, scarce furnish’d of his needs. 56

In words, fair lordships; in performance, hovels. 57

Can any woman love the thing that is not? 58

LUCRE

Broke you for this? 59

COURTESAN

Was it not cause too much?

Send to inquire his state. Most part of it 60

Lay two years mortgag’d in his uncle’s hands. 61

LUCRE

Why, say it did. You might have known my mind; 62

I could have soon restor’d it. 63

COURTESAN

Ay. Had I but seen any such thing perform’d, 64

Why, ‘twould have tied my affection and contain’d 65

Me in my first desires. Do you think, i’ faith, 66

That I could twine such a dry oak as this, 67

Had promise in your nephew took effect? 68

LUCRE

Why, and there’s no time pass’d, and rather than 69

My adversary should thus thwart my hopes, 70

I would— 71

COURTESAN

Tut! Y’ave been ever full of golden speech. 72

If words were lands, your nephew would be rich. 73

LUCRE

Widow, believe it, I vow by my best bliss, 74

Before these gentlemen, I will give in 75

The mortgage to my nephew instantly, 76

Before I sleep or eat. 77

1 GENTLEMAN GENTLEMAN Lawrence annotates “A friend to Lucre” (p. 47).

We’ll pawn our credits,

Widow, what he speaks shall be perform’d 78

In fullness. 79

LUCRE

Nay, more. I will estate him

In farther blessings: He shall be my heir. 80

I have no son. 81

I’ll bind myself to that condition. 82

COURTESAN

When I shall hear this done I shall soon yield 83

To reasonable terms. 84

LUCRE

In the mean season,

Will you protest, before these gentlemen, 85

To keep yourself as you are now at this present? 86

COURTESAN

I do protest, before these gentlemen, 87

I will be as clear then as I am now. 88

LUCRE

I do believe you. Here’s your own honest servant; 89

I’ll take him along with me. 90

COURTESAN

Ay, with all my heart.

LUCRE

He shall see all perform’d, and bring you word. 91

COURTESAN

That’s all I wait for. 92

WALKADINE HOARD

What, have you finish’d, Master Lucre? Ha, ha, ha, ha!

LUCRE

So, laugh, Hoard, laugh at your poor enemy, do. 95

The wind may turn; you may be laugh’d at too! 96

Yes, marry, may you, sir. Ha, ha, ha! 97

(Exeunt [Lucre, his friends, and Host].)

WALKADINE HOARD

Ha, ha, ha! If every man that swells in malice 98

Could be reveng’d as happily as I, 99

He would choose hate and forswear amity. 100

What did he say, wife, prithee? 101

COURTESAN

Faith, spoke to ease his mind. 102

WALKADINE HOARD

Oh, oh, oh! 103

COURTESAN

You know now, little to any purpose. 104

WALKADINE HOARD

True, true, true. 105

COURTESAN

He would do mountains now. 106

WALKADINE HOARD

Ay, ay, ay, ay. 107

LAMPREY

Y’ave struck him dead, Master Hoard. 108

SPITCHCOCK

Ay, and his nephew desperate. 109

WALKADINE HOARD

I know’t, sirs, ay. 110

Never did man so crush his enemy. 111

(Exeunt.)

[ACT IV SCENE 2]

([Lucre’s house])

(Enter Lucre with Gentlemen Gentlemen Lawrence annotates “Friends to Lucre” (p. 49). [and Host], meeting Sam Freedom)

LUCRE

My son-in-law, Sam Freedom, where’s my nephew?

SAM

O man in lamentation, father!

LUCRE

How!

SAM

He thumps his breast like a gallant dicer that has lost his doublet, and stands in’s shirt to do penance.

LUCRE

Alas, poor gentleman!

SAM

I warrant you may hear him sigh in a still evening to your house at Highgate.

LUCRE

I prithee, send him in.

SAM

Were it to do a greater matter, I will not stick with you, sir, in regard you married my mother.

([Exit.])

LUCRE

Sweet gentlemen, cheer him up. I will but fetch the mortgage and return to you instantly.

(Exit.)

1 GENTLEMAN

We’ll do our best, sir. See where he comes, 14

E’en joyless and regardless of all form. 15

([Enter Witgood])

2 GENTLEMAN

Why, how, Master Witgood! Fie! You a firm scholar and an understanding gentleman, and give your best parts to passion?

1 GENTLEMAN

Come, fie!

WITGOOD

Oh, gentlemen,—

1 GENTLEMAN

Sorrow of me, what a sigh was there, sir! 21

Nine such widows are not worth it. 22

WITGOOD

To be borne from me by that lecher, Hoard! 23

1 GENTLEMAN

That vengeance is your uncle’s, being done 24

More in despite to him than wrong to you, 25

But we bring comfort now. 26

WITGOOD

I beseech you, gentlemen,— 27

2 GENTLEMAN

Cheer thyself, man; there’s hope of her, i’ faith. 28

WITGOOD

Too gladsome to be true. 29

(Enter Lucre.)

LUCRE

Nephew, what cheer?

Alas, poor gentleman, how art thou chang’d! 30

Call thy fresh blood into thy cheeks again. 31

She comes— 32

WITGOOD

Nothing afflicts me so much

But that it is your adversary, uncle, 33

And merely plotted in despite of you. 34

LUCRE

Ay, that’s it mads me, spites me. I’ll spend my wealth ere he shall carry her so, because I know ‘tis only to spite me. Ay, this is it. Here, nephew, before these kind gentlemen, I deliver in your mortgage, my promise to the widow. See, ‘tis done. Be wise. You’re once more master of your own; the widow shall perceive now you are not altogether such a beggar as the world reputes you. You can make shift to bring her to three hundred a year, sir.

1 GENTLEMAN

By’r lady, and that’s no toy, sir. 42

LUCRE

A word, nephew.

1 GENTLEMAN

Now you may certify the widow.

LUCRE

You must conceive it aright, nephew, now. 44

To do you good, I am content to do this. 45

WITGOOD

I know it, sir. 46

LUCRE

But your own conscience can tell I had it 47

Dearly enough of you. 48

WITGOOD

Ay, that’s most certain.

LUCRE

Much money laid out, beside many a journey 49

To fetch the rent. I hope you’ll think on’t, nephew. 50

WITGOOD

I were worse than a beast else, i’ faith. 51

LUCRE

Although to blind the widow and the world, 52

I out of policy do’t, yet there’s a conscience, nephew. 53

WITGOOD

Heaven forbid else! 54

LUCRE

When you are full possess’d,

‘Tis nothing to return it. 55

WITGOOD

Alas, a thing quickly done, uncle. 56

LUCRE

Well said. You know I give it you but in trust. 57

WITGOOD

Pray let me understand you rightly, uncle: 58

You give it me but in trust? 59

LUCRE

No. 60

WITGOOD

That is, you trust me with it. 61

LUCRE

True, true. 62

WITGOOD

But if ever I trust you with it again, 63

Would I might be truss’d up for my labour. 64

LUCRE

You can all witness, gentlemen, and you, sir yeoman.

HOST

My life for yours, sir, now. I know my mistress’ mind too well toward your nephew. Let things be in preparation, and I’ll train her hither in most excellent fashion.

(Exit.)

LUCRE

A good old boy.—Wife! Jenny!

(Enter Wife)

WIFE

What’s the news, sir?

LUCRE

The wedding day’s at hand! Prithee, sweet wife, express thy housewifery. Thou’rt a fine cook, I know’t; thy first husband married thee out of an alderman’s kitchen. Go to! He rais’d thee for raising of paste. What! Here’s none but friends. Most of our beginnings must be wink’d at. Gentlemen, I invite you all to my nephew’s wedding against Thursday morning.

1 GENTLEMAN

With all our hearts, and we shall joy to see 78

Your enemy so mock’d. 79

LUCRE

He laugh’d at me, gentlemen; ha, ha, ha. 80

(Exeunt [Lucre, Wife, and Gentlemen].)

WITGOOD

He has no conscience, faith, would laugh at them. 81

They laugh at one another. 82

Who then can be so cruel? Troth, not I; 83

I rather pity now than aught envy. 84

I do conceive such joy in mine own happiness, 85

I have no leisure yet to laugh at their follies. 86

Thou soul of my estate, I kiss thee, 87

I miss life’s comfort when I miss thee. 88

Oh, never will we part again, 89

Until I leave the sight of men. 90

We’ll ne’er trust conscience of own kin, 91

Since cozenage brings that title in. 92

([Exit.])

[ACT IV SCENE 3]

([Outside Witgood’s house])

(Enter three Creditors)

1 CREDITOR

I’ll wait these seven hours, but I’ll see him caught.

2 CREDITOR

Faith, so will I.

3 CREDITOR

Hang him, prodigal! He’s stripp’d of the widow.

1 CREDITOR

A’ my troth, she’s the wiser; she has made the happier choice, and I wonder of what stuff those widows’ hearts are made of, that will marry unfledg’d boys, before comely thrum-chinn’d gentlemen.

(Enter a Boy)

BOY

News, news, news!

1 CREDITOR

What, boy?

BOY

The rioter is caught!

1 CREDITOR

So, so, so, so. It warms me at the heart. 11

I love a’ life to see dogs upon men. 12

Oh, here he comes. 13

(Enter Witgood with sergeants)

WITGOOD

My last joy was so great it took away the sense of all future afflictions. What a day is here o’ercast! How soon a black tempest rises!

1 CREDITOR

Oh, we may speak with you now, sir. What’s become of your rich widow? I think you may cast your cap at the widow, may you not, sir?

2 CREDITOR

He, a rich widow? Who, a prodigal, a daily rioter, and a nightly vomiter? He, a widow of account? He, a hole i’ th’ Counter!

WITGOOD

You do well, my masters, to tyrannize over misery, to afflict the afflicted. ‘Tis a custom you have here amongst you. I would wish you never leave it, and I hope you’ll do as I bid you.

1 CREDITOR

Come, come, sir; what say you extempore now to your bill of a hundred pound? A sweet debt for frotting your doublets.

2 CREDITOR

Here’s mine of forty.

3 CREDITOR

Here’s mine of fifty.

WITGOOD

Pray, sirs, you’ll give me breath?

1 CREDITOR

No, sir, we’ll keep you out of breath still. Then we shall be sure you will not run away from us.

WITGOOD

Will you but hear me speak?

2 CREDITOR

You shall pardon us for that, sir. We know you have too fair a tongue of your own; you overcame us too lately, a shame take you. We are like to lose all that for want of witnesses. We dealt in policy then. Always when we strive to be most politic we prove most coxcombs, non plus ultra . I perceive by us, we’re not ordain’d to thrive by wisdom, and therefore we must be content to be tradesmen.

WITGOOD

Give me but reasonable time, and I protest I’ll make you ample satisfaction.

1 CREDITOR

Do you talk of reasonable time to us?

WITGOOD

‘Tis true, beasts know no reasonable time.

2 CREDITOR

We must have either money or carcass.

WITGOOD

Alas, what good will my carcass do you?

3 CREDITOR

Oh, ‘tis a secret delight we have amongst us. We that are used to keep birds in cages have the heart to keep men in prison, I warrant you.

WITGOOD

I perceive I must crave a little more aid from my wits: Do but make shift for me this once, and I’ll forswear ever to trouble you in the like fashion hereafter. I’ll have better employment for you and I live.

1 CREDITOR

That’s our desires, sir.

(Enter Host)

HOST

Master Witgood?

WITGOOD

Oh, art thou come?

HOST

May I speak one word with you in private, sir?

WITGOOD

No, by my faith, canst thou. I am in Hell here, and the devils will not let me come to thee.

CITIZENS

Do you call us devils? You shall find us puritans! Bear him away. Let ‘em talk as they go. We’ll not stand to hear ‘em. Ah, sir, am I a devil? I shall think the better of myself as long as I live. A devil, i’ faith!

(Exeunt.)

[ACT IV SCENE 4]

([Walkadine Hoard’s house])

(Enter [Walkadine] Hoard)

WALKADINE HOARD

What a sweet blessing hast thou, Master Hoard, above a multitude! Wilt thou never be thankful? How dost thou think to be bless’d another time? Or dost thou count this the full measure of thy happiness? By my troth, I think thou dost. Not only a wife large in possessions, but spacious in content. She’s rich, she’s young, she’s fair, she’s wise. When I wake, I think of her lands; that revives me. When I go to bed, I dream of her beauty, and that’s enough for me. She’s worth four hundred a year in her very smock, if a man knew how to use it. But the journey will be all, in troth, into the country; to ride to her lands in state and order, following my brother and other worshipful gentlemen, whose companies I ha’ sent down for already, to ride along with us in their goodly decorum beards, their broad velvet cassocks, and chains of gold twice or thrice double. Against which time I’ll entertain some ten men of mine own into liveries, all of occupations or qualities. I will not keep an idle man about me. The sight of which will so vex my adversary Lucre, for we’ll pass by his door of purpose, make a little stand for [the] nonce, and have our horses curvet before the window. Certainly he will never endure it, but run up and hang himself presently. [Enter Servant] How now, sirrah? What news? Any that offer their service to me yet?

SERVANT

Yes, sir, there are some i’ th’ hall that wait for your worship’s liking, and desire to be entertain’d.

WALKADINE HOARD

Are they of occupation?

SERVANT

They are men fit for your worship, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

Say’st so? Send ‘em all in. [Exit Servant] To see ten men ride after me in watchet liveries with orange-tawny capes, ‘twill cut his comb, i’ faith. Enter all [, Tailor, Barber, Perfumer, Falconer, and Huntsman] How now? Of what occupation are you, sir?

TAILOR

A tailor, an’t please your worship.

WALKADINE HOARD

A tailor? Oh, very good. You shall serve to make all the liveries.—What are you, sir?

BARBER

A barber, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

A barber? Very needful. You shall shave all the house, and if need require, stand for a reaper i’ th’ summer time.—You, sir?

PERFUMER

A perfumer.

WALKADINE HOARD

I smell’d you before. Perfumers, of all men, had need carry themselves uprightly, for if they were once knaves they would be smell’d out quickly.—To you, sir?

FALCONER

A falc’ner, an’t please your worship.

WALKADINE HOARD

Sa ho, sa ho, sa ho!—and you, sir?

HUNTSMAN

A huntsman, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

There, boy, there, boy, there, boy. I am not so old but I have pleasant days to come. I promise you, my masters, I take such a good liking to you that I entertain you all. I put you already into my countenance, and you shall be shortly in my livery. But especially you two, my jolly falc’ner and my bonny huntsman, we shall have most need of you at my wife’s manor houses i’ th’ country. There’s goodly parks and champion grounds for you. We shall have all our sports within ourselves. All the gentlemen a’ th’ country shall be beholding to us and our pastimes.

FALCONER

And we’ll make your worship admire, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

Say’st thou so? Do but make me admire, and thou shalt want for nothing.—My tailor?

TAILOR

Anon, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

Go presently in hand with the liveries.

TAILOR

I will, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

My barber.

BARBER

Here, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

Make ‘em all trim fellows, louse ‘em well, especially my huntsman, and cut all their beards of the Polonian fashion. —My perfumer?

PERFUMER

Under your nose, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

Cast a better savour upon the knaves, to take away the scent of my tailor’s feet and my barber’s lotium water.

PERFUMER

It shall be carefully perform’d, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

But you, my falc’ner and huntsman, the welcom’st men alive, i’ faith!

HUNTSMAN

And we’ll show you that, sir, shall deserve your worship’s favour.

WALKADINE HOARD

I prithee, show me that. Go, you knaves all, and wash your lungs i’ th’ buttery, go. [Exeunt Tailor, Barber, Perfumer, Falconer, and Huntsman.] By th’ mass, and well rememb’red. I’ll ask my wife that question. Wife! Mistress Jane Hoard!

(Enter Courtesan, alter’d in apparel)

COURTESAN

Sir, would you with me?

WALKADINE HOARD

I would but know, sweet wife, which might stand best to thy liking, to have the wedding dinner kept here or i’ th’ country?

COURTESAN

Hum. Faith, sir, ‘twould like me better here. Here you were married, here let all rites be ended.

WALKADINE HOARD

Could a marquess give a better answer? Hoard, bear thy head aloft, thou’st a wife will advance it. [Enter Host with a letter] What haste comes here now? Yes, a letter, some dreg of my adversary’s malice. Come hither. What’s the news?

HOST

A thing that concerns my mistress, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

Why, then it concerns me, knave.

HOST

Ay, and you, knave, too—cry your worship mercy. You are both like to come into trouble, I promise you, sir: a precontract.

WALKADINE HOARD

How! A precontract, say’st thou?

HOST

I fear they have too much proof on’t, sir. Old Lucre, he runs mad up and down, and will to law as fast as he can. Young Witgood, laid hold on by his creditors, he exclaims upon you a’ tother side, says you have wrought his undoing by the injurious detaining of his contract.

WALKADINE HOARD

Body a’ me!

HOST

He will have utmost satisfaction. 100

The law shall give him recompense he says. 101

COURTESAN

Alas, his creditors so merciless! My state being yet uncertain, I deem it not unconscionable to further him.

HOST

True, sir,—

WALKADINE HOARD

Wife, what says that letter? Let me construe it.

COURTESAN

Curs’d be my rash and unadvised words! 106

I’ll set my foot upon my tongue 107

And tread my inconsiderate grant to dust. 108

([Stamps on the letter])

WALKADINE HOARD

Wife,—

HOST

A pretty shift, i’ faith. I commend a woman when she can make away a letter from her husband handsomely, and this was cleanly done, by my troth.

COURTESAN

I did, sir. 113

Some foolish words I must confess did pass, 114

Which now litigiously he fastens on me. 115

WALKADINE HOARD

Of what force? Let me examine ‘em.

COURTESAN

Too strong, I fear. Would I were well freed of him.

WALKADINE HOARD

Shall I compound?

COURTESAN

No, sir, I’d have it done some nobler way 119

Of your side. I’d have you come off with honour; 120

Let baseness keep with them. Why, have you not 121

The means, sir? The occasion’s offer’d you. 122

WALKADINE HOARD

Where? How, dear wife?

COURTESAN

He is now caught by his creditors. The slave’s needy, his debts petty. He’ll rather bind himself to all inconveniences than rot in prison. By this only means you may get a release from him. ‘Tis not yet come to his uncle’s hearing. Send speedily for the creditors. By this time he’s desperate; he’ll set his hand to anything. Take order for his debts or discharge ‘em quite. A pax on him! Let’s be rid of a rascal.

WALKADINE HOARD

Excellent! 131

Thou dost astonish me.—Go, run, make haste! 132

Bring both the creditors and Witgood hither. 133

HOST

This will be some revenge yet. 134

([Exit.])

WALKADINE HOARD

In the mean space I’ll have a release drawn.— 135

Within there! 136

([Enter Servant])

SERVANT

Sir? 137

WALKADINE HOARD

Sirrah, come take directions. Go to my scrivener. 138

([Speaks aside to Servant])

COURTESAN

I’m yet like those whose riches lie in dreams; 139

If I be wak’d, they’re false. Such is my fate, 140

Who ventures deeper than the desperate state. 141

Though I have sinn’d, yet could I become new, 142

For where I once vow, I am ever true. 143

WALKADINE HOARD

Away! Dispatch! On my displeasure, quickly! [Exit Servant.] Happy occasion! Pray Heaven he be in the right vein now to set his hand to’t, that nothing alter him. Grant that all his follies may meet in him at once, to besot him enough. I pray for him, i’ faith, and here he comes.

([Enter Witgood and Creditors])

WITGOOD

What would you with me now, my uncle’s spiteful adversary?

WALKADINE HOARD

Nay, I am friends. 151

WITGOOD

Ay, when your mischief’s spent.

WALKADINE HOARD

I heard you were arrested. 152

WITGOOD

Well, what then?

You will pay none of my debts, I am sure. 153

WALKADINE HOARD

A wise man cannot tell. 154

There may be those conditions ‘greed upon 155

May move me to do much. 156

WITGOOD

Ay, when?

‘Tis thou, perjured woman! Oh, no name 157

Is vild enough to match thy treachery, 158

That art the cause of my confusion. 159

COURTESAN

Out, you

Penurious slave! 160

WALKADINE HOARD

Nay, wife, you are too forward.

Let him alone. Give losers leave to talk. 161

WITGOOD

Shall I remember thee of another promise 162

Far stronger than the first? 163

COURTESAN

I’d fain know that.

WITGOOD

‘Twould call shame to thy cheeks. 164

COURTESAN

Shame?

WITGOOD

Hark in your ear.

[To Courtesan] Will he come off, think’st thou, and pay my debts roundly?

COURTESAN

[To Witgood] Doubt nothing. There’s a release a-drawing and all, to which you must set your hand.

WITGOOD

[To Courtesan] Excellent!

COURTESAN

[To Witgood] But methinks, i’ faith, you might have made some shift to discharge this yourself, having in the mortgage, and never have burden’d my conscience with it.

WITGOOD

[To Courtesan] A’ my troth, I could not, for my creditors’ cruelties extend to the present.

COURTESAN

[To Witgood] No more.—Why, do your worst for that, I defy you.

WITGOOD

Y’are impudent! I’ll call up witnesses.

COURTESAN

Call up thy wits, for thou hast been devoted 178

To follies a long time. 179

WALKADINE HOARD

Wife, y’are too bitter.

Master Witgood, and you, my masters, you shall hear a mild speech come from me now, and this it is: ‘Thas been my fortune, gentlemen, to have an extraordinary blessing pour’d upon me a’ late, and here she stands. I have wedded her and bedded her, and yet she is little the worse. Some foolish words she hath pass’d to you in the country, and some peevish debts you owe here in the city. Set the hare’s head to the goose-giblet. Release you her of her words, and I’ll release you of your debts, sir.

WITGOOD

Would you so? I thank you for that, sir. I cannot blame you, i’ faith.

WALKADINE HOARD

Why, are not debts better than words, sir?

WITGOOD

Are not words promises, and are not promises debts, sir?

WALKADINE HOARD

He plays at back-racket with me.

1 CREDITOR

Come hither, Master Witgood, come hither. Be rul’d by fools once.

2 CREDITOR

We are citizens and know what belong[s] to’t.

1 CREDITOR

Take hold of his offer. Pax on her! Let her go. If your debts were once discharg’d, I would help you to a widow myself worth ten of her.

3 CREDITOR

Mass, partner, and now you remember me on’t, there’s Master Mulligrub’s sister newly fall’n a widow.

1 CREDITOR

Cuds me, as pat as can be. There’s a widow left for you; ten thousand in money, beside plate, jewels, et cetera . I warrant it a match. We can do all in all with her. Prithee, dispatch. We’ll carry thee to her presently.

WITGOOD

My uncle will ne’er endure me when he shall hear I set my hand to a release.

2 CREDITOR

Hark, I’ll tell thee a trick for that. I have spent five hundred pound in suits in my time, I should be wise. Thou’rt now a prisoner; make a release. Take’t of my word, whatsoever a man makes as long as he is in durance, ‘tis nothing in law, not thus much.

([Snaps his fingers])

WITGOOD

Say you so, sir?

3 CREDITOR

I have paid for’t, I know’t.

WITGOOD

Proceed then. I consent.

3 CREDITOR

Why, well said.

WALKADINE HOARD

How now, my masters, what have you done with him?

1 CREDITOR

With much ado, sir, we have got him to consent.

WALKADINE HOARD

Ah, ah, ah! And what came his debts to now?

1 CREDITOR

Some eight score odd pounds, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

Naw, naw, naw, naw, naw. Tell me the second time. Give me a lighter sum. They are but desperate debts, you know, ne’er call’d in but upon such an accident. A poor, needy knave, he would starve and rot in prison. Come, come, you shall have ten shillings in the pound, and the sum down roundly—

1 CREDITOR

You must make it a mark, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

Go to, then. Tell your money in the meantime; you shall find little less there. [Gives them money] —Come, Master Witgood, you are so unwilling to do yourself good now. [Enter Scrivener] Welcome, honest scrivener. Now you shall hear the release read.

SCRIVENER

‘Be it known to all men by these presents that I, Theodorus Witgood, gentleman, sole nephew to Pecunius Lucre, having unjustly made title and claim to one Jane Medlar, late widow of Anthony Medlar, and now wife to Walkadine Hoard, in consideration of a competent sum of money to discharge my debts, do for ever hereafter disclaim any title, right, estate, or interest in or to the said widow, late in the occupation of the said Anthony Medlar and now in the occupation of Walkadine Hoard; as also neither to lay claim, by virtue of any former contract, grant, promise or demise, to any of her manor[s], manor houses, parks, groves, meadow grounds, arable lands, barns, stacks, stables, dove holes, and cony burrows, together with all her cattle, money, plate, jewels, borders, chains, bracelets, furnitures, hangings, movables, or immovables. In witness whereof, I, the said Theodorus Witgood, have interchangeably set to my hand and seal before these presents, the day and date above written.’

WITGOOD

What a precious fortune hast thou slipp’d here, like a beast as thou art!

WALKADINE HOARD

Come, unwilling heart, come.

WITGOOD

Well, Master Hoard, give me the pen; I see 252

‘Tis vain to quarrel with our destiny. 253

WALKADINE HOARD

Oh, as vain a thing as can be. You cannot commit a greater absurdity, sir. So, so, give me that hand now. Before all these presents, I am friends for ever with thee.

WITGOOD

Troth, and it were pity of my heart now if I should bear you any grudge, i’ faith.

WALKADINE HOARD

Content. I’ll send for thy uncle against the wedding dinner. We will be friends once again.

WITGOOD

I hope to bring it to pass myself, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

How now? Is’t right, my masters?

1 CREDITOR

‘Tis something wanting, sir, yet it shall be sufficient.

WALKADINE HOARD

Why, well said. A good conscience makes a fine show nowadays. Come, my masters, you shall all taste of my wine ere you depart.

ALL

We follow you, sir.

([Exeunt Walkadine Hoard, Scrivener, and Courtesan.])

WITGOOD

I’ll try these fellows now.

1 CREDITOR

Why, do you think we were in earnest, i’ faith? Carry you to a rich widow? We should get much credit by that! A noted rioter, a contemptible prodigal! ‘Twas a trick we have amongst us to get in our money. Fare you well, sir.

(Exeunt [Creditors].)

WITGOOD

Farewell and be hang’d, you short pig-hair’d, ram-headed rascals! He that believes in you shall ne’er be sav’d, I warrant him. By this new league I shall have some access unto my love.

(She is above)

NIECE

Master Witgood!

WITGOOD

My life!

NIECE

Meet me presently. That note directs you. I would not be suspected. Our happiness attends us. Farewell.

([Exit.])

WITGOOD

A word’s enough.

([Exit.])

[ACT IV SCENE 5]

([Dampit’s bedroom])

(Dampit the usurer in his bed, Audrey spinning by)

[AUDREY]

Song. Let the usurer cram him, in interest that excel, 1

There’s pits enow to damn him before he comes to Hell. 2

In Holborn some, in Fleet Street some, 3

Where’er he come, there’s some, there’s some. 4

DAMPIT

Trahe, trahito , draw the curtain. Give me a sip of sack more.

(Enter Gentlemen Gentlemen Lawrence annotates “Lamprey and Spitchcock” (p. 61). [, who stand apart])

LAMPREY

Look you, did not I tell you he lay like the devil in chains, when he was bound for a thousand year?

SPITCHCOCK

But I think the devil had no steel bedstaffs. He goes beyond him for that.

LAMPREY

Nay, do but mark the conceit of his drinking. One must wipe his mouth for him with a muckinder. Do you see, sir?

SPITCHCOCK

Is this the sick trampler? Why, he is only bedrid with drinking.

LAMPREY

True, sir. He spies us.

DAMPIT

What, Sir Tristram? You come and see a weak man here, a very weak man.

LAMPREY

If you be weak in body, you should be strong in prayer, sir.

DAMPIT

Oh, I have pray’d too much, poor man.

LAMPREY

[To Spitchcock] There’s a taste of his soul for you.

SPITCHCOCK

[To Lamprey] Faugh! Loathsome!

LAMPREY

I come to borrow a hundred pound of you, sir.

DAMPIT

Alas, you come at an ill time. I cannot spare it, i’ faith. I ha’ but two thousand i’ th’ house.

AUDREY

Ha, ha, ha!

DAMPIT

Out, you gernative quean, the mullipood of villainy, the spinner of concupiscency!

(Enter other Gentleman [and Boy])

SIR LANCELOT

Yea, gentlemen, are you here before us? How is he now?

LAMPREY

Faith, the same man still. The tavern bitch has bit him i’ th’ head.

SIR LANCELOT

We shall have the better sport with him. Peace.—And how cheers Master Dampit now?

DAMPIT

Oh, my bosom Sir Lancelot, how cheer I? Thy presence is restorative.

SIR LANCELOT

But I hear a great complaint of you, Master Dampit, among gallants.

DAMPIT

I am glad of that, i’ faith. Prithee, what?

SIR LANCELOT

They say you are wax’d proud a’ late, and if a friend visit you in the afternoon, you’ll scarce know him.

DAMPIT

Fie, fie! Proud? I cannot remember any such thing. Sure, I was drunk then.

SIR LANCELOT

Think you so, sir?

DAMPIT

There ‘twas, i’ faith. Nothing but the pride of the sack, and so certify ‘em. Fetch sack, sirrah.

BOY

A vengeance sack you once!

AUDREY

Why, Master Dampit, if you hold on as you begin and lie a little longer, you need not take care how to dispose your wealth; you’ll make the vintner your heir.

DAMPIT

Out, you babliaminy, you unfeather’d cremitoried quean, you cullisance of scabiosity!

AUDREY

Good words, Master Dampit, to speak before a maid and a virgin!

DAMPIT

Hang thy virginity upon the pole of carnality.

AUDREY

Sweet terms! My mistress shall know ‘em.

LAMPREY

Note but the misery of this usuring slave. Here he lies, like a noisome dunghill, full of the poison of his drunken blasphemies, and they to whom he bequeaths all grudge him the very meat that feeds him, the very pillow that eases him. Here may a usurer behold his end. What profits it to be a slave in this world and a devil i’ th’ next?

DAMPIT

Sir Lancelot, let me buss thee, Sir Lancelot. Thou art the only friend that I honour and respect.

SIR LANCELOT

I thank you for that, Master Dampit.

DAMPIT

Farewell, my bosom Sir Lancelot.

SIR LANCELOT

Gentlemen, and you love me, let me step behind you, and one of you fall a-talking of me to him.

LAMPREY

Content.

DAMPIT

So, sir?

LAMPREY

Here came Sir Lancelot to see you e’en now.

DAMPIT

Hang him, rascal!

LAMPREY

Who, Sir Lancelot?

DAMPIT

Pythagorical rascal!

LAMPREY

Pythagorical?

DAMPIT

Ay. He changes his cloak when he meets a sergeant.

SIR LANCELOT

What a rogue’s this!

LAMPREY

I wonder you can rail at him, sir; he comes in love to see you.

DAMPIT

A louse for his love! His father was a combmaker. I have no need of his crawling love. He comes to have longer day, the superlative rascal.

SIR LANCELOT

‘Sfoot, I can no longer endure the rogue.

DAMPIT

Who? My dear and kind Sir Lancelot? The only gentleman of England. Let me hug thee. Farewell, and a thousand.

LAMPREY

Compos’d of wrongs and slavish flatteries.

SIR LANCELOT

Nay, gentlemen, he shall show you more tricks yet. I’ll give you another taste of him.

LAMPREY

Is’t possible?

SIR LANCELOT

His memory is upon departing.

DAMPIT

Another cup of sack!

SIR LANCELOT

Mass, then ‘twill be quite gone. Before he drink that, tell him there’s a country client come up, and here attends for his learned advice.

LAMPREY

Enough.

DAMPIT

One cup more, and then let the bell toll. I hope I shall be weak enough by that time.

LAMPREY

Master Dampit.

DAMPIT

Is the sack spouting?

LAMPREY

‘Tis coming forward, sir. [Enter Boy with sack] Here’s a countryman, a client of yours, waits for your deep and profound advice, sir.

DAMPIT

A coxcombry? Where is he? Let him approach. Set me up a peg higher.

LAMPREY

You must draw near, sir.

DAMPIT

Now, good man fooliaminy, what say you to me now?

SIR LANCELOT

Please your good worship, I am a poor man, sir,—

DAMPIT

What make you in my chamber then?

SIR LANCELOT

I would entreat your worship’s device in a just and honest cause, sir.

DAMPIT

I meddle with no such matters. I refer ‘em to Master No-man’s office.

SIR LANCELOT

I had but one house left me in all the world, sir, which was my father’s, my grandfather’s, my great-grandfather’s, and now a villain has unjustly wrung me out and took possession on’t.

DAMPIT

Has he such feats? Thy best course is to bring thy ejectione firmae , and in seven year thou mayst shove him out by the law.

SIR LANCELOT

Alas, an’t please your worship, I have small friends and less money.

DAMPIT

Hoyday! This gear will fadge well! Hast no money? Why, then, my advice is thou must set fire a’ th’ house, and so get him out.

LAMPREY

That will break strife indeed!

SIR LANCELOT

Altering but my voice a little, you see he knew me not. You may observe by this that a drunkard’s memory holds longer in the voice than in the person. But, gentlemen, shall I show you a sight? Behold the little dive-dapper of damnation, Gulf the usurer, for his time worse than tother.

(Enter [Walkadine] Hoard with Gulf)

LAMPREY

What’s he comes with him?

SIR LANCELOT

Why, Hoard, that married lately the widow Medlar.

LAMPREY

Oh, I cry you mercy, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

Now, gentlemen visitants, how does Master Dampit?

SIR LANCELOT

Faith, here he lies, e’en drawing in, sir, good canary as fast as he can, sir. A very weak creature, truly. He is almost past memory.

WALKADINE HOARD

Fie, Master Dampit, you lie lazing abed here, and I come to invite you to my wedding dinner. Up, up, up!

DAMPIT

Who’s this? Master Hoard? Who hast thou married, in the name of foolery?

WALKADINE HOARD

A rich widow.

DAMPIT

A Dutch widow!

WALKADINE HOARD

A rich widow, one widow Medlar.

DAMPIT

Medlar! She keeps open house.

WALKADINE HOARD

She did, I can tell you, in her tother husband’s days, open house for all comers. Horse and man was welcome, and room enough for ‘em all.

DAMPIT

There’s too much for thee then. Thou mayst let out some to thy neighbours.

GULF

What, hung alive in chains? Oh, spectacle! Bedstaffs of steel? O monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens cui lumen ademptum! O Dampit, Dampit, here’s a just judgment shown upon usury, extortion, and trampling villainy.

SIR LANCELOT

This [is] ex’llent, thief rails upon the thief!

GULF

Is this the end of cut-throat usury, brothel, and blasphemy? Now mayst thou see what race a usurer runs.

DAMPIT

Why, thou rogue of universality, do not I know thee? Thy sound is like the cuckoo, the Welsh ambassador. Thou cowardly slave, that offers to fight with a sick man when his weapon’s down! Rail upon me in my naked bed? Why, thou great Lucifer’s little vicar, I am not so weak but I know a knave at first sight. Thou inconscionable rascal, thou that goest upon Middlesex juries and will make haste to give up thy verdict because thou wilt not lose thy dinner, are you answered?

GULF

An’t were not for shame—

(Draws his dagger)

DAMPIT

Thou wouldst be hang’d then.

LAMPREY

Nay, you must exercise patience, Master Gulf, always in a sick man’s chamber.

SIR LANCELOT

[To Dampit] He’ll quarrel with none, I warrant you, but those that are bedrid.

DAMPIT

Let him come, gentlemen, I am arm’d. Reach my closestool hither.

SIR LANCELOT

Here will be a sweet fray anon. I’ll leave you, gentlemen.

LAMPREY

Nay, we’ll along with you. Master Gulf.

GULF

Hang him, usuring rascal.

SIR LANCELOT

Push! Set your strength to his, your wit to his.

AUDREY

Pray, gentlemen, depart, His hour’s come upon him.— Sleep in my bosom, sleep.

SIR LANCELOT

Nay, we have enough of him, i’ faith. Keep him for the house.

Now make your best; 184

For thrice his wealth, I would not have his breast. 185

GULF

A little thing would make me beat him, now he’s asleep.

SIR LANCELOT

Mass, then ‘twill be a pitiful day when he wakes. I would be loath to see that day.

GULF

You overrule me, gentlemen, i’ faith.

(Exeunt.)

ACT V [SCENE 1]

([Lucre’s house])

(Enter Lucre and Witgood)

WITGOOD

Nay, uncle, let me prevail with you so much. 1

I’ faith, go, now he has invited you. 2

LUCRE

I shall have great joy there when he has borne away the widow!

WITGOOD

Why, la, I thought where I should find you presently. Uncle, a’ my troth, ‘tis nothing so.

LUCRE

What’s nothing so, sir? Is not he married to the widow?

WITGOOD

No, by my troth, is he not, uncle.

LUCRE

How!

WITGOOD

Will you have the truth on’t? He is married to a whore, i’ faith.

LUCRE

I should laugh at that.

WITGOOD

Uncle, let me perish in your favour if you find it not so, and that ‘tis I that have married the honest woman.

LUCRE

Ha! I’d walk ten mile afoot to see that, i’ faith.

WITGOOD

And see’t you shall, or I’ll ne’er see you again.

LUCRE

A quean, i’ faith? Ha, ha, ha!

(Exeunt.)

[ACT V SCENE 2]

([Walkadine Hoard’s house])

(Enter [Walkadine] Hoard, tasting wine, the Host following in a livery cloak)

WALKADINE HOARD

Pup, pup, pup, pup. I like not this wine. Is there never a better tierce in the house?

HOST

Yes, sir, there are as good tierce in the house as any are in England.

WALKADINE HOARD

Desire your mistress, you knave, to taste ‘em all over; she has better skill.

HOST

The better for her and the worse for you.

(Exit.)

([Enter Servant])

WALKADINE HOARD

Arthur, is the cupboard of plate set out?

ARTHUR

All’s in order, sir.

([Exit.])

WALKADINE HOARD

I am in love with my liveries every time I think on ‘em. They make a gallant show, by my troth.—Niece!

([Enter Niece])

NIECE

Do you call, sir?

WALKADINE HOARD

Prithee, show a little diligence and overlook the knaves a little. They’ll filch and steal today, and send whole pasties home to their wives. And thou be’st a good niece, do not see me purloin’d.

NIECE

Though the feast be prepared for you, yet it serves fit for my wedding dinner too.

([Exit.])

(Enter two Gentlemen)

WALKADINE HOARD

Master Lamprey, and Master Spitchcock too! The most welcome gentlemen alive! Your fathers and mine were all free o’ th’ fishmongers.

LAMPREY

They were indeed, sir. You see bold guests, sir, soon entreated.

WALKADINE HOARD

And that’s best, sir. [Enter Servant] How now, sirrah?

SERVANT

There’s a coach come to th’ door, sir.

([Exit.])

WALKADINE HOARD

My Lady Foxstone, a’ my life!—Mistress Jane Hoard! Wife!—Mass, ‘tis her ladyship indeed. [Enter Lady Foxstone] Madam, you are welcome to an unfurnish’d house, dearth of cheer, scarcity of attendance.

LADY

You are pleas’d to make the worst, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

Wife!

([Enter Courtesan])

LADY

Is this your bride?

WALKADINE HOARD

Yes, madam.—Salute my Lady Foxstone.

COURTESAN

Please you, madam, a while to taste the air in the garden?

LADY

‘Twill please us well.

(Exeunt [Lady Foxstone and Courtesan].)

WALKADINE HOARD

Who would not wed? The most delicious life! 39

No joys are like the comforts of a wife. 40

LAMPREY

So we bachelors think, that are not troubled with them.

(Enter Servant)

SERVANT

Your worship’s brother, with another ancient gentleman, are newly alighted, sir.

([Exit.])

WALKADINE HOARD

Master Onesiphorus Hoard? Why, now our company begins to come in. [Enter Onesiphorus Hoard, Limber, and Kix] My dear and kind brother, welcome, i’ faith.

ONESIPHORUS HOARD

You see we are men at an hour, brother.

WALKADINE HOARD

Ay, I’ll say that for you, brother; you keep as good an hour to come to a feast as any gentleman in the shire.—What, old Master Limber and Master Kix! Do we meet, i’ faith, jolly gentlemen?

LIMBER

We hope you lack guests, sir.

WALKADINE HOARD

Oh, welcome, welcome! We lack still such guests as your worships.

ONESIPHORUS HOARD

Ah, sirrah brother, have you catch’d up widow Medlar?

WALKADINE HOARD

From ‘em all, brother, and, I may tell you, I had mighty enemies, those that stuck sore. Old Lucre is a sore fox, I can tell you, brother.

ONESIPHORUS HOARD

Where is she? I’ll go seek her out. I long to have a smack at her lips.

WALKADINE HOARD

And most wishfully, brother. See where she comes. [Enter Courtesan] Give her a smack now we may hear it all the house over.

COURTESAN

O Heaven, I am betray’d! I know that face.

(Both turn back)

WALKADINE HOARD

Ha, ha, ha! Why, how now? Are you both asham’d? Come, gentlemen, we’ll look another way.

ONESIPHORUS HOARD

Nay, brother, hark you. Come, y’are dispos’d to be merry.

WALKADINE HOARD

Why do we meet else, man?

ONESIPHORUS HOARD

That’s another matter. I was ne’er so ‘fraid in my life but that you had been in earnest.

WALKADINE HOARD

How mean you, brother?

ONESIPHORUS HOARD

You said she was your wife.

WALKADINE HOARD

Did I so? By my troth, and so she is.

ONESIPHORUS HOARD

By your troth, brother?

WALKADINE HOARD

What reason have I to dissemble with my friends, brother? If marriage can make her mine, she is mine. Why?

ONESIPHORUS HOARD

Troth, I am not well of a sudden. I must crave pardon, brother. I came to see you, but I cannot stay dinner, i’ faith.

WALKADINE HOARD

I hope you will not serve me so, brother.

LIMBER

By your leave, Master Hoard.

WALKADINE HOARD

What now? What now? Pray, gentlemen, you were wont to show yourselves wise men.

LIMBER

But you have shown your folly too much here.

WALKADINE HOARD

How!

KIX

Fie, fie! A man of your repute and name! 87

You’ll feast your friends, but cloy ‘em first with shame. 88

WALKADINE HOARD

This grows too deep. Pray, let us reach the sense.

LIMBER

In your old age dote on a courtesan!

WALKADINE HOARD

Ha!

KIX

Marry a strumpet!

WALKADINE HOARD

Gentlemen!

ONESIPHORUS HOARD

And Witgood’s quean!

WALKADINE HOARD

Oh! Nor lands nor living?

ONESIPHORUS HOARD

Living? 96

WALKADINE HOARD

[To Courtesan] Speak!

COURTESAN

Alas, you know at first, sir.

I told you I had nothing. 97

WALKADINE HOARD

Out, out! I am cheated, infinitely cozen’d!

LIMBER

Nay, Master Hoard.

WALKADINE HOARD

A Dutch widow, a Dutch widow, a Dutch widow!

(Enter Witgood and Lucre)

LUCRE

Why, nephew, shall I trace thee still a liar? 101

Wilt make me mad? Is not yon thing the widow? 102

WITGOOD

Why, la, you are so hard a’ belief, uncle. 103

By my troth, she’s a whore. 104

LUCRE

Then thou’rt a knave.

WITGOOD

Negatur argumentum , uncle.

LUCRE

Probo tibi , nephew. He that knows a woman to be a quean must needs be a knave. Thou say’st thou know’st her to be one. Ergo , if she be a quean, thou’rt a knave.

WITGOOD

Negatur sequela majoris , uncle. He that knows a woman to be a quean must needs be a knave, I deny that.

WALKADINE HOARD

Lucre and Witgood, y’are both villains! Get you out of my house!

LUCRE

Why, didst not invite me to thy wedding dinner?

WITGOOD

And are not you and I sworn perpetual friends, before witness, sir, and were both drunk upon’t?

WALKADINE HOARD

Daintily abused! Y’ave put a junt upon me.

LUCRE

Ha, ha, ha!

WALKADINE HOARD

A common strumpet!

WITGOOD

Nay, now 119

You wrong her, sir. If I were she, I’d have 120

The law on you for that. I durst depose for her 121

She ne’er had common use nor common thought. 122

COURTESAN

Despise me, publish me, I am your wife. 123

What shame can I have now but you’ll have part? 124

If in disgrace you share, I sought not you. 125

You pursued me, nay, forc’d me. 126

Had I friends would follow it, 127

Less than your action has been prov’d a rape. 128

ONESIPHORUS HOARD

Brother,—

COURTESAN

Nor did I ever boast of lands unto you, 130

Money, or goods. I took a plainer course, 131

And told you true I’d nothing. 132

If error were committed, ‘twas by you, 133

Thank your own folly. Nor has my sin been 134

So odious but worse has been forgiven. 135

Nor am I so deform’d but I may challenge 136

The utmost power of any old man’s love. 137

She that tastes not sin before, twenty to one but she’ll taste it after. Most of you old men are content to marry young virgins and take that which follows; where, marrying one of us, you both save a sinner and are quit from a cuckold for ever.

And more, in brief, let this your best thoughts win, 142

She that knows sin, knows best how to hate sin. 143

WALKADINE HOARD

Curs’d be all malice! Black are the fruits of spite 144

And poison first their owners. Oh, my friends, 145

I must embrace shame to be rid of shame. 146

Conceal’d disgrace prevents a public name. 147

Ah, Witgood, ah, Theodorus,— 148

WITGOOD

Alas, sir, I was prick’d in conscience to see her well bestow’d, and where could I bestow her better than upon your pitiful worship? Excepting but myself, I dare swear she’s a virgin; and now by marrying your niece I have banish’d myself for ever from her. She’s mine aunt now, by my faith, and there’s no meddling with mine aunt, you know, a sin against my nuncle.

COURTESAN

Lo, gentlemen, before you all 155

In true reclaimed form I fall. 156

([Kneels])

Henceforth for ever I defy 157

The glances of a sinful eye, 158

Waving of fans, which some suppose 159

Tricks of fancy, treading of toes, 160

Wringing of fingers, biting the lip, 161

The wanton gait, th’alluring trip, 162

All secret friends and private meetings, 163

Close-borne letters and bawds’ greetings, 164

Feigning excuse to women’s labours 165

When we are sent for to th’ next neighbours, 166

Taking false physic and ne’er start 167

To be let blood, though sign be at heart, 168

Removing chambers, shifting beds, 169

To welcome friends in husbands’ steads, 170

Them to enjoy and you to marry, 171

They first serv’d while you must tarry, 172

They to spend and you to gather, 173

They to get and you to father. 174

These and thousand thousand more, 175

New reclaim’d, I now abhor. 176

LUCRE

Ah, here’s a lesson, rioter, for you! 177

WITGOOD

I must confess my follies. I’ll down too, 178

And here for ever I disclaim 179

The cause of youth’s undoing: Game, 180

Chiefly dice, those true outlanders 181

That shake out beggars, thieves, and panders; 182

Soul-wasting surfeits, sinful riots, 183

Queans’ evils, doctors’ diets, 184

‘Pothecaries’ drugs, surgeons’ glisters, 185

Stabbing of arms for a common mistress, 186

Riband favours, ribald speeches, 187

Dear perfum’d jackets, penniless breeches, 188

Dutch flapdragons, healths in urine, 189

Drabs that keep a man too sure in, 190

I do defy you all. 191

Lend me each honest hand, for here I rise 192

A reclaim’d man, loathing the general vice. 193

WALKADINE HOARD

So, so, all friends. The wedding dinner cools. 194

Who seem most crafty prove oftimes most fools. 195

([Exeunt.])

FINIS