University of Virginia Library

Scæna prima.

Enter Iaques solus.
So now inough my heart, beat now no more;
At least for this afright, what a could sweat
Flow'd on my browes, and ouer all my bosome!
Had I not reason? to behold my dore
Beset with vnthrifts, and my selfe abroad?
Why Iaques? was their nothing in the house
Worth a continuall eye, a vigelent thought,


Whose head should neuer nod, nor eyes once wincke:
Looke on my coate, my thoughts, worne quite thredbare,
That time could neuer couer with a nappe,
And by it learne, neuer with nappes of sleepe,
To smother your conceipts of that you keepe.
But yet, I maruell, why these gallant youths
Spoke me so faire, and I esteemd a beggar?
The end of flattery, is gaine, or lechery:
If they seeke gaine of me, they thinke me rich,
But that they do not: for their other obiect:
Tis in my handsome daughter, if it be.
And by your leaue, her handsomnesse may tell them
My beggery counterfeits, and, that her neatnesse,
Flowes from some store of wealth, that breakes my coffers,
With this same engine, loue to mine owne breed,
But this is answered: Beggers will keepe fine,
Their daughters, being faire, though themselues pine.
Well then, it is for her, I, t'is sure for her,
And I make her so briske for some of them,
That I might liue alone once with my gold.
O t'is a sweet companion! kind and true,
A man may trust it when his father cheats him,
Brother, or friend, or wife, ô wondrous pelfe,
“That which makes all men false, is true it selfe.
But now this maid, is but suppos'd my daughter:
For I being Steward to a Lord of France,
Of great estate, and wealth, called Lord Chammount,
He gone into the warres, I stole his treasure;
(But heare not, any thing) I stole his treasure,
And this his daughter, being but two yeares old,
Because it lou'd me so, that it would leaue
The nurse her selfe, to come into mine armes,
And had I left it, it would sure haue dyed.
Now herein I was kinde, and had a conscience;
And since her Lady mother that did dye
In child-bed of her, loued me passing well,


It may be nature fashiond this affection,
Both in the child and her: but hees ill bred,
That ransackes tombes, and doth deface the dead.
I'le therefore say no more: suppose the rest,
Here haue I chang'd my forme, my name and hers.
And liue obsurely, to enioy more safe
Enter Rachel.
My deerest treasure. But I must abroad, Rachel,

Rach.
VVhat is your pleasure sir?

Iaq.
Rachel I must abroad.
Lock thy selfe in, but yet take out the key,
That whosoeuer peepes in at the key-hole,
May yet imagine there is none at home.

Rach.
I will sir.

Iaq.
But harke thee Rachel: say a theefe should come,
And misse the key, he would resoule indeede
None were at home, and so breake in the rather:
Ope the doore Rachel, set it open daughter;
But sit in it thy selfe: and talke alowd,
As if there were some more in house with thee:
Put out the fire, kill the chimnies hart,
That it may breath no more then a dead man,
The more we spare thy child, the more we gaine.

Exeunt.