 | Fortune by Land and Sea |  |
Scen. 1.
Enter Mr. Raynsfoorth, old Mr. Forrest, Frank Forrest, Susan Forrest, Goodwin and Mr. Foster, 2. Gentlemen.Rayns.
I prithee
Frank lets have thy company to supper.
Frank.
With all my heart if I can but give my Father
here the slip by six a clock I will not fail.
Rayns.
Ile talk with him, I prithee old man lends
thy son to night, wee'le borrow him but some two hours, and send
him home agen to thee presently.
Good.
Faith do Mr. Forrest, he cannor spend his time in better company.
Old For.
Oh Gentlemen, his too much liberty breeds many strange
outragious ills in youth, and fashions them to vice.
Rayns.
Nay school us not old man, some of us are too old to learn,
and being past whipping too, there's no hope of profiting; if we shall
have him say so? if not, I prithee keep him still, and God give the good
of him,
Frank.
Nay will you be gone, Ile be at the heels of you as I live.
Fost.
'Tis enough, nay come, and if we shall go, let's go:
Old For.
Nay Gentlemen do not mistake me pray, I love my son, but
do not doat on him; nor is he such a darling in mine eye, that I am
lought to have him from my sight; yet let me tell you, had you gentlemen
called him to any fairer exercise, as practice of known weapons,
or to back some gallant gennet; had it been to dance, leap in the fields,
to wrestle, or to try masteries in any noble quality, I could have spared
him to you half his age:
I hold that much us'd practice, the most ill.
Frank.
I told him you would still be urging him, and see what
comes on't. I Per sequar.
Rayns.
Sir what we doe's in love, and let you know we do not need
his purse nor his acquaintance, nor if you should mistake, can we be sorry
nor wound to ask your pardon: fare ye well, come Gentlemen.
Frank.
will you be gone? Ile come.
Oh sonne that thou wilt follow rioting, surfeit by drinking
and unseasoned hours; these Gentlemen perhaps may do't they're
rich, well landed, and their Fathers purchase dayly, where I heaven
knowes the world still frowning on me, am forc'd to sell and Margage
to keep you. His brother rancks himself with the best gallants that flourish
in the Kingdom, thee not able to spend with them, yet for his vertuous
parts he is borne out, his person woed and sought, and they more
bound to him for his discourse then he to them for their expence and
cost. Thy course is otherwise, all drinking healths, cups of muld Sack, and
glasses elbow deep: drink in thy youth, maintain thee in thine age, no
'twill not hold out boy.
Frank.
My company hath not been to your purse so chargeable;
I do not spend so much.
Old Forr.
Thou spendest thy time more pretious then thy coyn,
consumest thy hopes, thy fortunes and thy after exyectations, in drowning
surfeits, tell me canst thou cal that thrift to be in all these prodigal.
Mine is the care, the loss or profit thine.
Exit.
Susan.
Brother be ruled, my Father grieves to see you given to these
boundless riots, will you follow?
Frank.
Lead you the way, Ile after you.
Susan.
'Tis well, hee'l look for you within,
Frank.
When? can you tel?
Exeunt severally.
Enter Raynsfoorth, Goodwin, and Foster.
Rayns.
Boy my cloak.
Goodw.
Our cloaks sirrah.
Enter a Drawer.
Fost.
Why Drawer.
1. Drawer
Here Sir.
Rayns.
Some Canary Sack and Tobacco.
Draw.
You shall Sir, wilt please you stay supper?
Rayns.
Yes marry will we Sir, lets have the best cheer the kitchin
yeilds: the pipe sirrah,
Drawer.
Here Sir.
Rayns.
Will Frank be here at supper?
Goodw.
So Sir he promis'd, and presumes he wil not fail his hour.
Rayns.
Some Sack boy, I am all lead within, ther's no mirth in me, nor
was I wont to be so lumpish sad: reach me the glasse: what's
this?
Draw.
Good Sherry Sack Sir.
Rayns.
I meant Canary Sir, what hast no brains?
Pox a your brains, are your fingers so light.
Rains.
Say sir.
Draw.
You shall have Cannary presently.
Goodw.
When was he wont to be in this sad strain, excepting some
few sudden melanchollies, there lives not one more free and sociable.
Fost.
I am too well acquainted with his humour, to stir his blood in
the least distemperature; Cose Ile be with you here.
Enter Drawer.
Rains.
Do, come to me; have you hit upon the right Cannary now
or could your Hogshead find a Spanish But? A health.
Goodw.
Were it my height Ile pledge it.
Fost.
How do you now man?
Rains.
Well, well, exceeding well, my melancholly sadness steals away,
and by degrees shrinks from my troubled heart: Come let's be merry,
more Tobacco boy, and bring in supper.
Enter Frank Forrest.
Fost.
Frank, welcom, welcom, wilt thou be here old lad?
Goodw.
Or here?
Fran.
Wherefore hath nature lent me two hands but to use them
both at once (my cloak) I am for you here and here.
Fost.
Bid them make haste of supper; some discourse to pass away
the time.
Rains.
Now Frank, how stole you from your Fathers arms? you
have been schooled no doubt; fie, fie upon't, e'r I would live such base
servitude to an old gray beard, Sfoot Ide hang my self. A man cannot
be merry and drink drunk, but he must be controled by gravity.
For.
O pardon him, you know he is my father, and what he doth is
but paternal love; though I be wild, I am not so past reason, his
person to despise, though I his counsel cannot severely follow.
Rains.
Sfoot he's a fool.
Fran.
A fool; y'are a---
Fost.
Nay Gentlemen.
Frank.
Yet I restrain my tongue, hoping
you speak out of some spleenful rashness, and no deliberate malice:
And 'tmay be you are sorry that a word so unreverent to wrong so
good an aged Gentleman should pass you unawares.
Rains.
Sorry, Sir boy, you will not take exceptions.
Fra.
Not against you with willingness, whom I have loved so long;
yet you might think me a most dutiless and ungracious Son to give
smooth countenance unto my fathers wrong; come, I dare swear 'twas
not your malice, and I take it so; lets frame some other talk, hear Gentlemen.
Rains.
But hear me boy, it seems Sir you are angry.
Fra.
Not throughly yet.
Rains.
Then what would anger thee?
Fra.
Nothing from you.
Of all things under heaven what wouldest thou loathest have
me do?
Fra.
I would not have you wrong my reverent Father, and I hope
you will not.
Rains.
Thy Father's an old dotard.
Fran.
I could not brook this at a Monarchs hands, much lesse at
thine.
Rains.
I boy, then take you that.
[Flings wine in's face.
Fra.
I was not born to brook this, oh I am slain.
Goodw.
Sweet Cose what have you done; shift for your self.
Rains.
Away.
Exeunt.
Enter two Drawers.
1. Draw.
Stay the Gentlemen, they have kild a man: O sweet Mr.
Francis; one run to his Fathers.
2. Draw.
Had not we Drawers enough in the house, but they must
needs draw too?
1. Draw.
They have drawn blood of this Gentleman that I have
drawn many a quart of wine to: Oh sweet Mr. Francis; hark, hark, I
hear his Fathers voice below, ten to one he is come to fetch him home
to supper, and now he may carry him home to his grave: Seehere
he comes.
Enter the Host, Mr. Forrest, and Susan.
Host:
You must take comfort, Sir.
old For.
Would heaven I could, or that I might beg patience.
Sus.
Oh my brother.
old For.
Is he dead, is he dead girl.
Sus.
Oh dead sir, Frank is dead.
old For.
Alass, alass my boy, I have not the heart to look upon his
wide and gaping wounds: Hide them, oh hide them from me, lest those
mouthes through which his life past through swallow mine: Pray tell
me, Sir, doth this appear to you fearful and pittiful, to you that are a
stranger to my dead boy?
Host.
How can it otherwise?
old For.
Oh me most wretched of all wretched men, if to a stranger
his warm bleeding wounds appear so griesly, and so lamentable, how
will they seem to me that am his Father? will they not hale my eyeballs
from their rounds, and with an everlasting blindness strike 'em.
Sus.
Oh Sir, look here.
old For.
Do'st thou long to have me blind, then Ile behold them since
I know thy mind: oh me is this my sonne that doth so sensless lye,
and swims in blood, my soul shall fly with his
Being kild with grief we both may have one grave.
Sus.
Alass my Father's dead too gentle Sir, help to retire his spirits
over-travell'd with age and sorrow.
Host.
Mr. Forrest.
Sus.
Father.
old For.
What saies my girl? good morrow; what's a clock that
you are up so early? call up Frank, tell him he lies too long a bed this
morning: was wont to call the Sun up, and to raise the early Lark,
and mount her 'mongst the clouds; will he not up, rise, rise thou sluggish
boy.
Sus.
Alass he cannot Father.
old For.
Cannot, why?
Sus.
Do you not see his bloodless colour fail.
old For.
Perhaps he's sickly that he looks so pale.
Sus.
Do you not feel his pulse no motion keep? how still he lies.
old For.
Then is he fast asleep?
Sus.
Do you not see his fatal eye-lide close.
old For.
Speak softly, hinder not his soft repose.
Sus.
Oh see you not these purple conduits run, know you these
wounds?
old Fost.
Oh me my murdered Son.
Enter young Mr. Forrest.
Mr. For.
Sister.
Sus.
O brother, brother.
Mr. For.
Father, how cheer you Sir? why you were wont to store
for others comfort that by sorrow were any way distrest, have you all
wasted, and spared none to your self.
old For.
Oh Son, son, son, see alass, see where thy brother lies, he
dined with me to day, was merry, merry, eye that course was, he that
lies here, see there thy murdered brother, and my son was, see doest
not thou not weep for him.
Mr. For.
I shall find time,
When you have took some comfort Ile begin
To mourn his death, and scourge the murderers sin.
Dear father be advised, take hence his body, and let it have a solemn funeral.
old For.
But for the murderer, shall not he attend the sentence of the
Law with all severity.
Mr. For.
Have you but patience, should we urge the Law he hath
such honourable friends to guard him, we should in that but bark against
the Moon; nay do not look that way, take hence the body, let the Law
sleep, the time ere it be long, may offer't self to a more just revenge:
then bear this amongst the rest: The heavens when they be pleased may
turn the wheel of Fortune round, when we that are dejected, may be again
raised to our former height.
old For.
Oh when saw Father such a tragick sight,
And did outlive it, never sonne, ah never
From mortal breast run such a pretious River.
Mr. For.
Come Father and dear Sister joyn with me,
Let us all learn our sorrows to forget,
He owed a death, and he hath payd that debt.
Exeunt.
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