University of Virginia Library

Scena secunda.

Enter Luke.
Within Anne.
Where is this Uncle?

Within Lady.
Call this Beadsman, brother: he hath forgot attendance.

Within Mary.
Seek him out: idlenesse spoils him.

Luke.
I deserve much more then their scorn can load me with, and 'tis but justice,
That I should live the families drudge, design'd
To all the sordid offices their pride
Imposes on me; since if now I sate
A Judge in mine own cause, I should conclude
I am not worth their pitie: such as want
Discourse, and judgment, and through weaknesse fall,
May merit man's compassion; but I
That knew profusenesse of expence the parent
Of wretched poverty, her fatal daughter,
To riot out mine own, to live upon
The alms of others! steering on a rock
I might have shun'd: O heaven! 'tis not fit
I should look upward, much lesse hope for mercy.

Enter Lady, Anne, Mary, Stargaze, and Milliscent.
Lady.
What are you devising, Sir?

Anne.
My Uncle is much given to his devotion.

Mary.
And takes time to mumble
A Pater noster to himself.

Lady.
Know you where
Your brother is? It better would become you
(Your means of life depending wholly on him)
To give your attendance.

Luke.
In my will I do:
But since he rode forth yesterday with Lord Lacie,
I have not seen him.

Lady.
And why went not you
By his stirrup? how do you look? were his eies clos'd,
You'd be glad of such imploiment.

Luke.
'Twas his pleasure
I should wait your commands, and those I am ever
Most ready to receive.

Lady.
I know you can speak well,
But say and do.

Enter Lord Lacie with a Will.
Luke.
Here comes my Lord.

Lady.
Further off:
You are no companion for him, and his businesse
Aims not at you, as I take it.

Luke.
Can I live in this base condition?

aside
Lady.
I hop'd, my Lord,
You had brought Mr. Frugall with you, for I must ask
An account of him from you.

Lord.
I can give it, Ladie;
But with the best discretion of a woman,
And a strong fortifi'd patience, I desire you
To give it hearing.

Luke.
My heart beats.

Lady.
My Lord, you much amaze me.

Lord.
I shall astonish you. The noble Merchant,
Who living was for his integritie
And upright dealing (a rare miracle
In a rich Citizen) Londons best honour;
Is—I am loth to speak it.

Luke.
Wondrous strange!

Lady.
I do suppose the worst, not dead I hope?

Lord.
Your supposition's true, your hopes are false.
Hee's dead.

Lady.
Ay mee.

Anne.
My Father.

Mary.
My kind Father.

Luke.
Now they insult not.

Lord.
Pray hear me out.
Hee's dead. Dead to the world, and you. And now
Lives onely to himself.

Luke.
What Riddle's this?

Lady.
Act not the torturer in my afflictions;
But make me understand the summe of all
That I must undergo.

Lord.
In few words take it;
He is retir'd into a Monastery,
Where he resolves to end his daies.

Luke.
More strange.

Lord.
I saw him take poste for Dover, and the wind
Sitting so fair, by this hee's safe at Calice,
And ere long will be at Lovain.

Lady.
Could I guesse
What were the motives that induc'd him to it,
'Twere some allay to my sorrows.

Lord.
I'le instruct you,
And chide you into that knowledg: 'twas your pride
Above your rank, and stubborn disobedience
Of these your daughters, in their milk suck'd from you:
At home the harshnesse of his entertainment,
You wilfully forgetting that your all
Was borrowed from him; and to hear abroad
The imputations dispers'd upon you,
And justly too, I fear, that drew him to
This strict retirement: And thus much said for him,
I am my self to accuse you.

Lady.
I confesse
A guilty cause to him, but in a thought,
My Lord, I ne're wrong'd you.

Lord.
In fact you have;
The insolent disgrace you put upon
My onely Son, and Mr. Plenty; men, that lov'd
Your daughters in a noble way, to wash off
The scandal, put a resolution in 'em
For three years travel.

Lady.
I am much griev'd for it.

Lord.
One thing I had forgot; your rigor to
His decaied brother, in which your flatteries,
Or sorceries, made him a coagent with you,
Wrought not the least impression.

Luke.
Humph! this sounds well.

Lady.
'Tis now past help: after these storms, my Lord,
A little calme, if you please.

Lord.
If what I have told you
Shew'd like a storm, what now I must deliver
Will prove a raging tempest. His whole estate
In lands and leases, debts and present moneys,
With all the movables he stood posses'd of,
With the best advice which he could get for gold
From his learned counsel, by this formall Will
Is pass'd o're to his brother. With it take
The key of his counting house. Not a groat left you,
Which you can call your own.

Ladie.
Undone for ever.

Ann. Marie.
What will become of us?

Luke.
Humph!

Lord.
The Scenes chang'd,
And he that was your slave, by fate appointed
Your governour, you kneel to me in vain,
I cannot help you, I discharge the trust
Impos'd upon me. This humilitie
From him may gain remission, and perhaps
Forgetfulnesse of your barbarous usage to him.

Lady.
Am I come to this.

Lord.
Enjoy your own, good Sir,
But use it with due reverence. I once heard you
Speak most divinely in the opposition
Of a revengefull humor, to these shew it;
And such who then depended on the mercy
Of your brother wholly now at your devotion,
And make good the opinion I held of you;
Of which I am most confident.

Luke.
Pray you rise,
And rise with this assurance, I am still,
As I was of late, your creature; and if rais'd
In any thing, 'tis in my power to serve you,
My will is still the same. O my Lord!
This heap of wealth which you possesse me of.
Which to a worldly man had been a blessing,
And to the messenger might with justice challenge
A kind of adoration, is to me
A curse, I cannot thank you for; and much lesse
Rejoyce in that tranquility of mind,
My brothers vows must purchase. I have made
A dear exchange with him. He now enjoyes
My peace, and poverty, the trouble of
His wealth confer'd on me, and that a burthen
Too heavy for my weak shouldiers.

Lord.
Honest soul,
With what feeling he receivs it.

Lady.
You shall have
My best assistance, if you please to use it
To help you to suport it.

Luke.
By no means,
The waight shall rather sinck me, then you part
With one short minute from those lawfull pleasures
Which you were born to in your care to aid me,
You shall have all abundance. In my nature
I was ever liberall, my Lord you know it.
Kind, affable. And now me thinks I see
Before my face the Jubile of joy
When it is assur'd, my brother lives in me,
His debtors in full cups crown'd to my health,
With Pæaus to my praise will celebrate.
For they well know 'tis far from me to take
The forfeiture of a bond. Nay I shall blush
The interest never paid after three years
When I demand my principall. And his servants
Who from a slavish fear pai'd her obedience
By him exacted; now when they are mine
Will grow familiar friends, and as such use me,
Being certain of the mildnesse of my temper,
Which my change of fortune, frequent in most men
Hath not the power to alter.

Lord.
Yet take heed Sir
You ruine it not with too much lenity,
What his fit severity rais'd.

Lady.
And we fall from
That height we have maintain'd

Luke.
I'le build it higher
To admiration higher. With disdain
I look upon these habits, no way suiting
The wife, and daughters of a knighted Citizen
Blessed with abundance.

Lord.
There Sir. I joyn with you
A fit decorum must be kept, the Court
Distinguished from the City.

Luke.
With your favour
I know what you would say, but give me leave
In this to be your advocate. You are wide
The whole region in what I purpose.
Since all the titles, honours, long descents
Borrow their gloss from wealth ye'r rich with reason
May challenge their perogatives. And it shall be
My glory, nay a triumph to revive
In the pomp that these shall shine, the memory
Of the Roman matrons who kep't captive Queens
To be their hand-maids. And when you appear
Like Juno in full majesty, and my Neeces
Like Iris, Hebe, or what deities else
Old Poets fancie; your examin'd ward robes richer
Then various natures, and draw down the envy
of our western world upon you, onely hold me
your vigillant Hermes with aeriall wings,
My caducevs my strong zeal to serve you,
Press'd to feth in all rarities may delight you,
And am made immortall.

Lord.
A strang frensie.

Luke.
Off with these rags, and then to bed. There dream
Of future greatnesse, which when you awake
I'le make a certain truth: but I must be
A doer, not a promiser. The peformance
Requiring hast, I kisse your hands, and leave you.
Exit Luke.

Lord.
Are we all turn'd statues? have his strange words charm'd us?
What muse you on Lady?

Lady.
Do not trouble me.

Lord.
Sleep you to young ones?

Anne.
Swift wing'd time till now
Was never tedious to me. Would 'twere night

Mary.
Nay morning rather

Lord.
Can you ground your faith
On such impossibilities? have you so soon
Forgot your good Husband?

Lady.
Hee was a vanitie
I must no more remember.

Lord.
Excellent!
You your kind Father?

Anne.
Such an Uncle never
Was read of in Storie!

Lord.
Not one word in answer
Of my demands?

Mary.
You are but a Lord, and know
My thoughts soar higher.

Lord.
Admirable! I will leave you
To your Castles in the Air, when I relate this
It will exceed belief, but he must know it.
Exit Lord.

Stargaze.
Now I may boldly speak: May it please you Madam,
To look upon your Vassal; I foresaw this,
The Starrs assur'd it.

Lady.
I begin to feel
My self another woman.

Stargaze.
Now you shall find
All my predictions true, and nobler matches
Prepar'd for my young Ladies.

Milliscent.
Princely Husbands.

Anne.
I'le go no lesse.

Mary.
Not a word more,
Provide my night-rayl.

Millisc.
What shall we be to morrow.

Exeunt