 | The Love-sick King |  |
Act. III.
Enter Grim and Colliers with Baskets and Sacks.Grim.
Come Bullies, fetch more Coals, and aboard with 'em lustily,
shew your selves Newcastle-men, not proud, but honest and humble,
and such as do not scorn to carry Coals.
1 Col.
I warrant you Mr. Grim, Wee'l send'em going, Newcastle Coals
are Hereticks, and must be burnt at London.
Exeunt Colliers.
Grim.
You say well, Wee'l put'em to water first, and then let'em put
fire in their Tayls afterward.
Enter Randolph.
Rand.
Well said Grim, I see thou art not idle.
Grim.
No Master, I am Bayly of your Cole-pits, and your Worships
Benefactor: I will do what lies in a true servant; Seven hundred black
Treasure five hundred fathom deep for you, and as they bring it up, Ile
send it out to your profit, Sir.
Rand.
'Tis well done Grim, thy gains will one day be a Gentleman.
Grim.
A Gentleman? Nay I hope one day to purchase a Lordship,
and all my Collyers under me shall be Ladies, for Ile maintain'em with
black Masks on their faces already; but do you hear Master? I hear
there is some disadvantage towards us, and it behoves us to look to't,
they say there are a new sort of Colliers crept up neer London, at a place
call'd Croydon, that have found out a way by scorching of wood to
make Charcoals, and 'tis to be fear'd this may hinder our Traffick
Master.
Rand.
How? To make Coals of wood, art sure 'tis so?
Grim.
Most certain Sir, but never fear it Master, Newcastle Coals
shall conquer Croydon, we can give a Chaldron of Sea-coals for a sack
of Char-coals.
Rand.
Thou say'st well Grim; but I hear my brothers ship's
return'd with large Advantage, I mean to see him, mean time insist upon
thy care, good Grim.
Grim.
O sweet Master, Let me go with you, I'd fain see how
Thornton our Needle-merchant has sped, I doubt me, his Lambs-skin
is turn'd to three Sheeps-skins the wrong side outward.
Rand.
Come, Let's go; but see they come to us.
Enter Goodgift, his Wife, Thornton and George.
Good.
Now brother Randolph how is't with you Sir?
Rand.
Glad by the happy tydings of your News Sir; Fame has outstrip'd
the wind that brought your ships, and tells us of a rich and prosperous
Voyage: Ile talk with your Factor, Sir, and know your Purchase.
Good.
Do, Do, Mean time Ile talk with Thornton here my honest
Merchant of Millan Needles; How hast thou sped in thy Voyage, how
didst thou brook the Sea?
Grim.
I think he was glad to pump over-board; How say you
Thornton?
Thorn.
Tush, Tush, Thou art a Fresh-water Fellow (Grim.)
Grim.
A Fresh-water Fellow? O disgrace to a Collier! If ever I
kill a Whale hand to hand, it shall be thee.
Good.
Nay, good Grim.
Grim.
Mr. Goodgift, I pray pardon me: Shall Grim the Collyer
Selleridge, nay the very Demigorgan of the Dungeon, be call'd a Fresh-water
Fellow?
Good.
Quietness, I say, Wee'l have no quarrelling.
Grim.
I beseech you Sir, Let's both be let down into a Cole-pit five
Fathom deep, and he that kills the other, shall be stifled with a Damp,
and so you shall never be troubled to hang, nor bury us.
Good.
Go to, I say, Ile have yee friends again: Come, shake
hands.
Grim.
Never, unless I may call him, Porpoise, now at single hand,
Sir.
Good.
I, I, Thou shalt.
Grim.
Thou? go thy wayes, thou art a Porpoise, and now I am
friends with thee.
Good.
So, So, 'Tis well, and now as I was saying, Thornton, What
Voyage hast thou made to benefit thy hopes, your Halfpenny, and your
Lambs-skin? My Factor tells me here thou hast been careful and diligent,
but to the wealth and greatness you expect, I yet hear nothing.
Wife.
I marry Husband that's the news I look for; Sir, Come tell us
Thornton, How have you bestowed the mony that I gave you?
Thorn.
Faith Mistriss, as the rest, my full stock to Sea, you, and my
good friends gave, was five shillings, and putting in at Preston for
fresh water, I turn'd it there into six Tun of Iron, one of which Tuns
I have already sold unto an Anchor-Smith here in Newcastle for four
pound; the rest, if I put off so well, will multiply my stock most richly,
Mistriss.
Good.
'Tis well, but far from hope of wealth and Lordships
Thornton.
Rand.
Yet that re-multiplied again, good brother, may help his
Halfpenny and his Lambs-skin somewhat.
Good.
Well, well Thornton, th'art welcome home however; So are
thou George; Go see the ship unladed, wee'l go before, and view the
Ware-houses.
Fac.
I shall Sir.
Good.
Come brother, will you go?
Rand.
Yes, Sir; You'l quarrel no more, if we leave you together
now?
Grim.
No Sir, I mean to borrow some mony of him now.
That's not his way to thrive; Look to him Thornton.
Exeunt. Manent Thorn. Grim.
Grim.
I warrant you Master, wee'l agree well enough; Ah Sirra, Mr.
Thornton, you have got six Tun of Iron already, you must take heed
now that you fall not into some crafty Ironmongers hand to deceive you
of your whole stock; Look too't, they are hard dealers that deal in Iron;
if you be gull'd, remember what Martin said to his man, Whose the
Fool now?
Thorn.
Tush Grim, Look there man, my whole stock lies not in
Iron; a little stock I borrowed of my fellow George at Sea, and with it, I
have purchased these Pearles.
Grim.
Pearles? Prethee tell me true: Are they Pearls yfaith?
Thorn.
Pearles? I, and precious ones too, I hope.
Grim.
Ha, ha, good Oyster Pearl, worth twelvepence a pound, I
think.
Thorn.
No matter man, I cannot lose by them howsoever; they cost
me little; I have sent for a Goldsmith a purpose to know the certainty.
Enter a Smith.
Grim.
That's well, and in the mean time, here comes your first
Chapman: How now good man Iron-fist, Why do you puff and
blow so?
Smith.
O Mr. Thornton, I'm ee'n out of breath with seeking you,
unless you stand my friend, I shall be undone for ever.
Thorn.
Why, what's the matter man?
Sm.
Your Iron, Sir, your Iron, that I bought of you, is not the
mettal I took it for, 'twill do me no good Sir, there will not a nayl be
hammered out of it, when I heat it, it melts, and when 'tis cold agen, it
bends like lead, and if it lye on my hand, I am undone for ever; I beseech
you, Sir, take it agen, though I lose ten shillings ith' price I paid
for't.
Thorn.
Nay, I must not rise by hurt of any man; Ile take't agen,
and thou shalt lose no penny. I prethee let me see't, Is this a part on't.
Sm.
I, for here's the end of one of the Bars, the poorest peece of
Iron I e're hammered on.
Thor.
Well, leave this with me, and bear the rest home to my Masters
Ware-house, thou shalt sustain no loss, thou shalt have thy mony.
Sm.
I thank you Sir, Ile bear it back agen, and my wife that yet
curseth you most terribly, shall pray for you most horribly.
Thorn.
This is strange, my great Venture turn'd to nothing now?
Faith Mr. Thonton, and your pearls prove no better than your
Iron, you were best turn Merchant of Lambs-skins again.
Enter Goldsmith.
Thorn.
Well I know the worst on't Grim, see here comes the Goldsmith
that I sent for; if my Pearls prove as bad as my Iron, I am quite
begger'd yfaith.
Gold.
Now Mr. Thornton what's your business with me?
Thor.
Your advice in these few pearls sir, and I would know the value
of them.
Golds.
They are fair and round, are they your own sir?
Thorn.
Ile answer the sail of them.
Gold.
And have you any more of 'em sir?
Thor.
Some thirty more, and far more orient than these are too.
Golds.
Ile give you twenty pound for these two at a venture sir.
Grim.
You shall have Pearl my dog at that price sir.
Gold.
What say you Mr. Thornton?
Thorn.
Twenty pound say y'? there's some hope then towards my
half-penny I see. Come sir, Ile make a rash bargain, you are my first
Chapman, and shall have first refusal, both in the price of these and all
the rest; and since you give me this good comfort, sir, pray let me trouble
you a little further, you have good skill in Metals sir, pray look on
this; what metal should this be?
Golds.
Let me see it sir, Ile tell you presently.
He touches it with a Touchstone.
Grim.
A beastly peece of Iron 'tis, it came new from the Forge,
old Iron-fist the Smith has been hammering, but he can do no good
on't.
Thor.
What think you sir?
Golds.
Ha! fore Heaven, it touches fair, have you any store of this
metal sir?
Thorn.
Yes sir, six Tun I assure you, I brought it for good Iron, but
my smal skill has deceiv'd me.
Golds.
You were well deceived sir, for if the rest.
Of your six Tun with this in trial stand
You're now the richest Subject in the Land.
Thor.
Ha! Gold? Delude me not I beseech you sir, let me beleeve
you plainly. Y'have toucht this peece, and this Ile give you to make
good your word.
Golds.
Upon my life I will, 'tis perfect gold, and for this Wedge
I will refine it all to its pure lustre, and your infinite profit.
I make that bargain with you, this peece is yours, and since
you give these hopes, I pray conceal it, and meet me at the Warehouse,
there Ile shew you the full six Tun I spake of, and confer.
Golds.
I will attend you sir, and tell you thus,
Your Fortunes all are rich and wonderous.
Exit.
Thor.
I have a thankful heart to heaven for't, that's my comfort: Why
how now fellow Grim, how stand'st thou man?
Grim.
Six Tun of Gold? O that I durst but imbrace you Mr.
Thornton!
Thorn.
Tush man, I prethee do; Ile ne're foget my self nor thee,
I am honest Thornton, and thou honest Grim.
Grim.
Poor Grim the Collier sir, but Ile never be your worships equal,
you shall be tryumphant Mr. Thornton, and I poor Grim, your honest
friend, and quondam fellow.
Thorn.
Come, come, no more of this, help me to cast my venture
honest Grim: Six tun of gold?
Grim.
Most right sir.
Thor.
Three pound an ounce, is threescore pounds a pound.
Grim.
And that's horrible usury for your worship.
Thor.
Nay, nay, no worship good Grim, this is Heavens blessing
thrown on a poor mans head.
Grim.
Wo'd I were thrown into a Coal-pit with such a blessing on
my back.
Thor.
Nay prethee let's reckon further, three pound an ounce, and
threescore a pound, is full sixteen thousand pound a Tun, and doubling
that to six times six, comes near to forty hundred thousand pounds, almost
four millions.
Grim,
O Lord sir! is not that better than twenty millan Needles that
your Lordship had wont to sell amongst the Colliers, and when you came
to Newcastle, as your writing says, Here did Thornton enter in, with
hope, a half-penny, and a Lambs-skin.
Thor.
True, true, good Grim, and I shall ne'r forget it.
Grim.
O that my mother had lapp'd me in a Lambs-skin the first
hour of my begetting, for now I see there is no luck to a Lambs-skin, six
Tun of gold at one purchase, and besides all this your Highness does forget
the pearls too.
Thor.
Nay, nay, no Titles Grim, 'tis all heavens blessing still.
Grim.
Tis true sir, and I think your Majesty's the richest man—
Thor.
Away, away, thou'lt speak Treason anon Grim. The wealth
I have I see is infinite, and be thou secret and conceal a while, and Ile reward
Enter Smith.
Grim.
I am your Vassal sir, and will be obedient to your Excellence
in all things. But see the foolish Smith is return'd to see you.
Thor.
Prethee be silent. How now honest Smith, hast thou sent
home the iron?
Smith.
O yes sir, I thank Heaven I have rid my hands of it, you
have made me a man Mr. Thornton, my house is quiet, my wife silent,
I have carried home your leaden iron, return me my silver back agen, and
my wife and I shall pray for you when you are dead and rotten.
Thor.
Well sir, with all my heart. I received four pound; Look you
sir, there 'tis, all your full sum to a penny.
Smith.
Sweet Mr. Thornton, shall I not give you four pots for all this
kindness? pray sir, 'tis fit I should lose something.
Thor,
No, no, I'm satisfied.
Grim.
Do you hear ancient Iron-fist, the old Smith of Newcastle,
I can tell you one thing, if the Almanack or Erra-pater be true, youle
hang your self ere to morrow morning.
Smith.
How, hang my self!
Thor.
Nay, prethee Grim, thou wilt discover all anon.
Grim.
No I warrant you sir, I do it but to work a little profit. Do
you hear Smith, what shall I give you for the ashes and rubbish that
came off of that old Iron that you refused now?
Smith.
How? the ashes? marry I mean to sweep 'em out of my shop
when I come home yfaith, for fear they infect the rest. What wilt thou
do with 'em?
Grim.
That's all one, Let me have all the ashes and the peeces you broke
off that Bar your brought to Mr. Thornton, and Ile give thee five shillings.
Smith.
Five shillings? Ile not be said to gull you Mr. Grim, but an
youle give me a groat ready money, th'are yours.
Grim.
A bargain: There's your groat.
Smith.
The ashes, and all the peeces of iron are yours sir.
Grim.
Bear witness Mr. Thornton, come, Ile go fetch 'em presently,
y'ad best make haste, your dismal day's to morrow, you know what
I told you, and unless you rid your self of 'em quickly, you will hang
your self, that's certain.
Exeunt. Manet Thornton.
Thorn.
Ha! Have my hopes ore-tane me? think on't Thornton,
and thank Heaven for't; here at Newcastle first
With hope, a half-penny, and a Lambs-skin,
And now my large Accounts, of wealth scarce told,
The blessings strange, and I must now resolve
To tie my vows to my auspicious fate,
Lest the world curse, and Heaven call me ingrate;
To make of this my gold a houshold God,
Were meer Idolatry, no't shall fly abroad:
Newcastle, to thy good, large sums of love
My promise oweth, which ile pay, and prove,
To grace thy fame, Ile beautifie thy ground,
And build a wall that shall imbrace thee round.
Exit.
Musick. Enter Cartesmunda, and discovereth Canutus asleep, Attendants, Osrick.
Car.
That Musick is too loud, tread softly sirs; How sweetly in his
sleep Canutus looks? Ile not envy thee Juno, keep thy Jove, here lies
the soul of Cartesmunda's love. Now by this kiss Canutus I do love thee,
thou needst not dream it, fie, fie, sluggard fie, beshrew the God of
dreams, what, did he fright thee? Or art thou fighting of some battel
now, wherein thou seest me taken prisoner, and startst with fear of that?
There's nothing else that could afright thee, though it came like thunder,
for thou wert made for Armes, and for these Arms; and yet thy sword
Canutus did not win me. I saw these eies, when I refus'd to love thee,
begin to lose their splendor, and in tears drown their neglected brightness.
I have seen this face half dead when I have frown'd upon't, and with my
smiles life has return'd agen; go, go, you wanton, by this kiss Ile beat you.
Can.
How now Sweet-heart?
Car.
Art thou awake my Love? then I am well.
Can.
Well Cartesmunda, sleep, and I will watch as careful as the tender
Pellican stands by her tender young; give me a kiss potent as Bacchus
to raise appetite, and let's go sleep together, if I get a Boy upon
thy youth, he shall be King, and half the world shall be his Dower.
Whose that knocks so rudely for his death? hath not the slave describ'd
the noyse?
Enter Hofman.
Hof., Osr.
It is Duke Harold, sir, intreats access.
Can.
He does not chuse his time well. Let him in.
Enter Harold.
Osr.
The King is angry sir.
Har.
Angry, sayst thou? holy Saints defend us, 'has foes enough to
vent his spleen upon, and not to shrowd himself thus from his friends.
Most mighty Prince.
Can.
Rise Harold, we co'd chide you; But go on.
Pardon (my speech my Lord) it is my duty, and I must needs
make bold to tell your Highness, y're no Souldier but a Love-sick Prince,
And while you dally out your daies in love, the English all are raising
head against you, the Garrisons that kept Northumberland are
chas'd as far as York, two thousand Danes, died in that bloody slaughter.
And now again those warlike Princes all their Forces joyn, and seek
you forth.
Can.
Fetch me some wine, wee'l drink to all their deaths that
dare disturb us; Cartesmunda, thou shalt sweetly pledge me, come
faster slave.
Thus in this wine wee'l wash away all care,
My pleasures and my conquest all are here.
Come pledge me sweet.
Har.
The Duke of Thetfords Forces raised in Norfolk, have quite
expuls'd the Danes, the English Nobles bound to your State by conquest
and by oath, forsake Allegiance, and with sound of Drums proclaim
Prince Alured the English King.
Can.
Ho, ha, ha.
Cart.
Why laughs my Love?
Can.
To see thee pledge me such a hearty draught.
Har.
You see my Lord hee's careless, and neither minds us nor his
persons safety.
Osr.
Most Royal sir, what order for your forces?
Can.
Let's have some musick strait; Come Cartesmunda wee'l
dance out half this day, and that being done, we will retire our selves and
sleep agen. Why, when yee slaves? do your souls sleep within you? here's
good musick.
Dance.
Har.
So was the warlike Drum and Trumpet once, great Hardiknute
the glory of the Danes. Thy Son plays now the King.
Enter a Captain
Capt.
Hail mighty King.
Can.
Thunder to thee; Foot can we not be private?
Capt.
Alas my Leige my news is of importance.
Can.
So is my pleasure slave, avoid our presence, thou and the rest
that come to fill our ears with tumults and with bloody Massacres, frighting
my heavenly Love, for whose sweet sake let men fall thicker than the
checker'd leaves, the stern winds rend and ravish from the tree, when yellow
Autum turns them into gold.
Be gone, come Cartesmunda let's retire,
We will not stir were all the world on fire.
Ex.
Is this the end of all our former conquests? to be re-conquer'd
now with wine and women?
Har.
I, this is she that bears so high a stroak, we dare not shake
our heads for fear we loose 'em; if she but dreams a dream that nor
delights her, next morning there are some are sure to bleed for't, whose
lot so ere it be.
Osr.
Wo'd it were mine, my Lords, so she co'd dream, and it would
come to pass, the Devil might fetch her.
Har.
This twelve month sir, he has not touch'd his Armor, nor been
ith'field to chear his Souldiers.
Osr.
We now must make as great a suit to see him, as if we beg'd
for Tipes of dignity.
Cap.
No more, I see your griefs and all our ruins, if we keep silent
thus. Ile speak to him, and venture life for such a general good, if
my plots fail, my tongue shall boldly speak
Ile die, or win him from this strumpets bed.
Fear not to second me.
Har.
Not I, were death assur'd, Ile first begin,
A Souldiers best fight is to beat down sin.
Enter Canutus and a Guard.
Can.
Double my Guards about her, I will prove
There's no happiness on earth but love.
Cap.
Most mighty Prince.
Can.
Audacious Traytor, wherefore com'st thou to us, did we not
charge thee to avoid the presence.
Cap.
Your Father (Royal Sir) knew me a Souldier, and I have
fought for you, yet if you please, so I may speak, make me your humble
Martyr.
Can.
Slave what wouldst thou say?
Cap.
That which my life shall prove
Y'ave lost your conquest in a womans love.
Could you unty the vail Cupid has bound about your eyes and forehead,
you wo'd find she were not all so fair as you esteem her, Nature was never
so impartial to give to one to rob a million, arm but your self and lead
your Souldiers forth to win another City, you shall find her beauty far
out-strip'd, sacred Leige, if like a young man you take counsel ill,
I di'd to win you from a Strumpets shame.
Thou'st spoke enough to damn thee, Impudent Traytor, go
dye unpittied; Though thou hast my hate, thou shalt not have the honor
of my sword o take away thy life, you of our Guard; See a base death
performed upon this Slave.
Capt.
Farewel my Leige you once must have a grave.
Exit with Guard.
Har.
My Resolution's firm, and I will speak, though hell shu'd
gape to swallow me alive; What's he that's gon to death my Sovereign?
Can.
A Traytor (Harold) to my best content.
Har.
O pardon sir, your rage has lost a man of more true worth
then all this Nation; He was not of that strain of Counsellors, that like
a tust of Rushes in a Brook, bends every way the current turns it self,
yeelding to every puff of Appetite that comes from Majesty, but with
true zeal he faithfully declared the grief of all: Pardon me (great
Canutus) I must speak, and let thy subject on his knee intreat, the
And chase those English that do only wound,
Because our Rescuer will not be found.
Can.
Fond man, how dar'st thou check our Appetite: Hast thou
forgot, our frown can strike thee dead.
Har.
I know't, and willingly lay down my head;
For 'tis more honor by thy wrath to dye,
Then living to behold thy misery,
Which sure is coming on.
Can.
Let it make haste. Wee'l beat it back with our triumphant
Hoast.
Har.
You cannot, till you beat that wanton hence; She has bewitch'd
your senses (mighty Lord)
Have let all heat but lust out of your veyns;
When she is gone, your valor you'l assume,
But while she stayes, she doth your state consume.
Can.
No more: Go bid the Captains meet me in the Hall; Tell'em
to morrow early wee'l come down;
We can command our self as well as you.
Away.
Har.
Ile do your will, and hope for good event.
Exit.
Can.
There is no hell on earth but discontent.
I feel my blood grows chil, a sudden qualm in a deep Læthe seems to
drown my joyes.
But here comes she, by whom those thoughts are gon,
Earths happiness, at whose creation
Nature spent all her stock: Welcome my love to make our joyes full,
Go adorn thy self in all the richest Jems my Coffers yeelds; Wear all the
Jewels purchas'd with my crown, and out-shine Dian in a Robe of
stars.
Cart.
For what, my Lord?
Can.
To please mine eyes, and make all men admire thy Radencie.
Thy Beauty shall out-brave the glorious Sun,
Florish.
Somewhat Canu't must do to be talk'd on.
Exeunt.
Enter Mr. Randolph, and his Sister in Mourning.
Rand.
Fie Sister, weep no more, 'tis time to lay by grief, and with
the death of your late husband, now bury your sorrows.
Wife.
Shu'd I forget so soon so good a husband?
Rand.
His goodness was your good, your late dead husband has left
you rich, and full Executrix to be over-seen by Mr. Thornton, whose
care I cannot pass without some note; For though his wealth be rays'd
to Infinites, he not forgets a servants love.
Wife.
Alas good brother, I have woo'd him from it.
Rand.
How Sister have you woo'd him?
Wife.
I, from civility, Methinks 'tis unmannerly in me, to see a man
so much in state the better, to be so like a servant to me; I tell you I have
woo'd him from it.
Rand.
I think 'twere better far he woo'd you Sister.
Wife.
Woo'd me? For what?
Rand.
For Love Sister.
Wife.
O fie, good Brother: The very word would wrong my
husbands grave.
Rand.
Tush, a Womans Sorrow, has been in black to day, in green
to morrow.
Wife.
I, but I am none of those: No, no, Ile never marry.
Rand.
Come, you are foolish, think upon him, Sister, Hee's a rich
man, I tell you. Hee's now the wealthest subject England hath.
Wife.
O but my Husband!
Rand.
Which of 'em? he that's gone, or this to come? Think of
Mr. Thornton.
Wife.
Alas, I am not his equal:
Tush you were once his Better, hee's humble still.
Wife.
Well, Ile speak no more on't.
Rand.
Well, think on't then.
Wife.
Hey, ho, Hee's a very honest man truly, and had my husband
dyed but two months ago, I might ha' thought on't.
Rand.
How fare you Sister?
Wife.
As a green widow sir; Pray if you see Mr. Thornton, say I'd
speak with him.
Enter Thornton and a Workman.
Rand.
Are you there yfaith Sister; See, hee's here already.
Thorn.
Spare for no cost, and ply the Workmen hard, Ile pay'em
all, they shall not want for mony; have you tane the compass of the
Wall?
Work.
We have, to a foot sir.
Thorn.
How many Towers of strength may be erected, dividing
each distance by a hundred paces.
Work.
'Tis cast already, and the compass falls,
A hundred fourscore Towers to grace the Walls.
Thorn.
How high de'you raise the Walls?
Work.
As you directed sir, full a hundred foot.
Thorn.
Right, and twelve in breadth.
Work.
Just so sir, 'twill be a pleasant walk to view the Town:
Thorn.
So I wo'd have it; And therefore from the highest erect a
Battlement above the Platform four foot high a'both sides, both to
secure, and make the place more pleasant; See it rais'd so.
Work.
I shall sir.
Wife.
O my dear Husband!
Thorn.
Why, how now Mistriss?
Wife.
O Mr. Thornton, I never see you, but I think of a good husband.
Rand.
I marry Sister, that's a pretty cast.
Thorn.
Your pardon I beseech you gentle Mistriss; Your Factor and
my self have summ'd your state, and find it cleerly, all your debts discharg'd,
in compleat value fifteen thousand pound.
Rand.
Ha, ha, Sister, a good Dowry to get a new husband, trust
me.
Wife.
No, no, Ile nere marry again; Ile e'en follow Mr. Thorntons
rule, you see he lives a Batchellor.
Rand.
Sir, Methinks 'twere good you took a wife, and so leave your
own to your own posterity.
Thorn.
In all, Ile take my Mistress counsel: Pray resolve me, Had
Widow?
Wife.
Truly, I think a Widow sir, you may imagine, I may speak
somewhat in mine own Flattery; but alas, 'tis a state I shall not change!
A Widow sir, will best secure your state.
Thorn.
You counsel well Mistriss, and Ile think on't.
Wife.
The sooner the better too, I can assure you; you'l find much
comfort in't, you may elect some young green thing out of a Mayden
choyce, that may be fury and froward, she may please your eye a little,
and other parts about you, but vex your heart, and be a gulph to swallow
your estate; If you'l deal wisely (as I hope you will) take me a Widow,
that knows how and what to do, that has been season'd in a husbands
usage, and one that will obey as you shall honor:
Let him contract a Widow to his bed.
And still I say, take me a Widow, sir.
Rand.
Why, you say honestly Sister; Do you understand her sir;
she bids you take her a Widow.
Wife.
You are merry Brother.
Thorn.
Nay you said so Mistriss, speak't agen then, for by my Faith,
wer't not for two things Mistriss, I'd come a wooing to you.
Rand.
Two things? Why three things shall not hinder it; What
are they?
Thorn.
My first fear is, the marriage of so much wealth as ours
compounded, would choak all content, and with the superflux change
all to cares.
Rand.
You take good course for that already, sir, your charitable
works so well begun, will help to disperse the o're-plus freely.
Thorn.
You have removed that well, the other is, that the remembrance
of my poor estate; which is so publickly proclaimed to all men,
might make my wealthy Mistriss here disdain me.
Wife.
Nay, that's your glory, sir, and cannot be accounted as your
shame.
Rand.
Why La sir she has helpt that her self now.
Thorn.
Yfaith, say then Mistriss (I am a bad Wooer, 'tis my beginning)
shall it be a match?
Wife.
I cannot so forget my late lost husband.
Rand.
Why, this repairs your losses, Sister, you lost a good one,
and find his equal with a wealthy purchase.
Put me in hope that I may once injoy you.
Wife.
I will not marry, sir, these seven years, trust me.
Rand.
How? this seven years Sister? fie upon't, we may be all
dead and rotten six years before it; come, come, speak in compass
sister.
Wife,
Truely Brother under half a year I won't here on't.
Rand.
I marry sir, that was well bated. Speak agen Sister, and let it be
a fortnight.
Wife.
A fortnight? no, no, not this month, beleeve me.
Ran.
Away, away, a months too long, hark you sister, wee'l clap it
up privately to night, and the Town shall not know on't till a moneth
hence.
Wife.
To night? O fie upon't! an you love me Brother let it not
be till to morrow morning, I beseech you, for the speech of people.
Ran.
Afraid of wind? tush let it vanish Sister, I say he shall marry
thee to night.
Thor.
Let it be so, and here's an earnest Mistris.
Kiss.
Wife.
Alas I kiss coldly in a morning Gown sir,
Thor.
Tush it shall off; wee'l marry, then to bed,
Wooing is idle, better to be sped.
Wife.
Use your own will sir.
Ran.
Why, so, 'tis as it sho'd be now; imbrace him sister,
And live in love and wealth, 'bove all admir'd,
Here's seven years quickly in an hour expir'd.
Exeunt.
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