 | A Cure for a Cuckold |  |
ACT. 5.
SCENE 1.
Enter Rochfield and Annabel.Roch.
Believe me, I was never more ambitious, or covetous, if
I may call it so, of any fortune greater than this one,
but to behold his face.
Ann.
And now's the time; for from a much feared danger as
I heard, he's late come over.
Roch.
And not seen you yet? 'tis some unkindness.
Ann.
You may think it so; but for my part, sir, I account it
none: what know I but some business of import and weighty consequence,
more near to him than any formal Complement to me,
may for a time detain him: I presume no jealousie can be asperst
on him, for which he cannot well Apology.
Roch.
You are a Creature every way compleat,
As good a Wife, as Woman; so whose sake
As I in duty am endeer'd to you,
So shall I owe him service.
Enter Lessingham.
Less.
The ways to Love, and Crowns, lye both through blood,
for in 'em both all Lets must be removed, it could be stiled no
true ambition else. I am grown big with project: Project, said I?
Rather with sudden mischief; which without:
And I am now in labor. Thanks occasion
That givest me a fit ground to work upon,
It should be Rochfield, one since our departure
It seems ingrafted in this Family:
Indeed the Houses Minion, since from the Lord
To the lowest Groom, all with unite consent
Speak him so largely. Nor as it appears
By this their private Conference, is he grown
Least in the Brides opinion. A foundation
On which I will erect a brave Revenge.
Ann.
Sir, What kinde Offices lyes in your way
To do for him, I shall be thankful for,
And reckon them mine own.
Roch.
In acknowledgement I kiss your hand, so with a gratitude
never to be forgot, I take my leave.
Ann.
I mine of you, with hourly expectation
Of a long-lookt for husband.
Exit.
Roch.
May it thrive according to your wishes.
Less.
Now's my turn. Without offence, Sir, may I beg your
name?
Roch.
'Tis that I never yet denied to any, nor will to you that
seem a Gentleman: 'tis Rochfield.
Less.
Rochfield? You are then the man whose nobleness, vertue,
valor, and good parts, have voice'd you loud. Dover and
Sandwich, Marget, and all the Coast is full of you: but more,
as an Eye-witness of all these, and with most truth, the Master
of this house hath given them large expressions.
Roch.
Therein his love exceeded much my merit.
Less.
That's your modesty:
Now I as one that goodness love in all men,
And honoring that which is but found in few,
Desire to know you better.
Roch.
Pray your name?
Less.
Lessingham.
Roch.
A friend to Mr. Bonvile?
Less.
In the number of those which he esteems most dear to
him, he reckons me not last.
Roch.
So I have heard.
Sir, you have cause to bless the lucky Planet
Beneath which you were born, 'twas a bright star
And then shined cleer upon you, for as you
Are every way well parred, so I hold you
In all designs mark't to be fortunate.
Roch.
Pray do not stretch your love to flattery,
'T may call it then in question; grow I pray you
To some particulars.
Less.
I have observed but late your parting with the Virgin
Bride, and therein some affection.
Roch.
How?
Less.
With pardon, in this I full applaud your happiness, and
praise the blessed influence of your stars: for how can it be possible
that she, unkindly left upon the Bride-day, and disappointed
of those Nuptial sweets that night expected, but should take the
occasion so fairly offered? Nay, and stand excused aswell in detestation
of a scorn, scarce in a husband heard of, as selecting a
Gentleman in all things so compleat, to do her those neglected
offices, her youth and beauty justly challengeth.
Roch.
Some plot to wrong the Bride, and I now
Will marry Craft with Cunning, if he'l bite,
Ile give him line to play on: wer't your case
You being young as I am, would you intermit
So fair and sweet occasion?
Less.
Yet mis-conceive me not, I do intreat you;
To think I can be of that easie wit,
Or of that malice to defame a Lady,
Were she so kinde so to expose her self,
Nor is she such a creature.
Less.
On this foundation I can build higher still, (sir I beleiv't)
I hear you two call Cousins; comes your kindred
By the Woodroffe, or the Bonviles?
Roch.
From neither, 'tis a word of courtesie
Late interchanged betwixt us, otherwise
We are forreign as two strangers.
Less.
Better still.
Roch.
I would not have you grow too inward with me
Upon so small a knowledge; yet to satisfie you,
And in some kinde too to delight my self,
Those Bracelets and the Carckanet she wears,
Less.
They were the first, and special Tokens past betwixt her
and her husband.
Roch.
'Tis confest: what I have said, I have said: Sir, you
have power perhaps to wrong me, or to injure her; this you may
do, but as you are a Gentleman I hope you will do neither.
Less.
Trust upon't.
Exit Rochfield. Exit Woodroff.
If I drown Ile sink some along with me;
For of all miseries I hold that chief,
Wretched to be, when none co-parts our grief.
Here's another Anvile to work on: I must now
Make this my Master-piece; for your old Foxes
Are seldom ta'ne in Springes.
Wood.
What, my Friend!
You are happily returned; and yet I want
Somewhat to make it perfect. Where's your Friend,
My Son in Law?
Less.
Oh sir!
Wood.
I pray sir resolve me; for I do suffer strangely till I know
if he be in safety.
Less.
Fare you well: 'Tis not fit
I should relate his danger.
Wood.
I must know't. I have a Quarrel to you already,
for enticing my Son in Law to go over: Tell me quickly, or I
shall make it greater.
Less.
Then truth is, he's dangerously wounded.
Wood.
But he's not dead I hope?
Less.
No sir, not dead; yet sure your daughter may take liberty
to chuse another.
Wood.
Why that gives him dead.
Less.
Upon my life Sir, no; your son's in health
As well as I am.
Wood.
Strange! you deliver Riddles.
Less.
I told you he was wounded, and 'tis true,
He is wounded in his Reputation.
I told you likewise, which I am loth to repeat,
That your fair Daughter might take liberty
To embrace another. That's the consequence
That makes my best Friend wounded in his Fame.
Wood.
I must have more of't;
For I do sweat already, and Ile sweat more;
'Tis good they say to cure Aches, and o'th sudden
I am sore from head to foot, let me taste the worst.
Less.
Know Sir, if ever there were truth in falshood,
Then 'tis most true, your Daughter plays most false
With Bonvile, and hath chose for her Favorite
The man that now past by me, Rochfield.
Wood.
Say? I would thou hadst spoke this on Callis-sands,
And I within my Sword and Ponyards length
Of that false throat of thine. I pray sir, tell me
Of what Kin or Alliance do you take me
To the Gentlewoman you late mentioned?
Less.
You are her Father.
Wood.
Why then of all men living, do you address
This Report to me, that ought of all men breathing
To have been the last o'th Rowl, except the husband,
That should have heard of't?
Less.
For her honor Sir, and yours;
That your good Councel may reclaim her.
Wood.
I thank you.
Less.
She has departed sir, upon my knowledge,
With Jewels, and with Bracelets, the first Pledges,
And confirmation of th'unhappy Contract
Between her self and husband.
Wood.
To whom?
Less.
To Rochfield.
Wood.
Be not abused: but now,
Even now I saw her wear e'm.
Less.
Very likely; 'tis fit, hearing her husband is returned,
That she should re-deliver 'em.
Wood.
But pray sir tell me,
How is it likely she could part with 'em,
When they are lockt about her Neck and Wrists,
And the Key with her husband?
Less.
Oh sir, that's but practise;
She has got a trick to use another Key
Besides her husbands.
Sirrah, you do lie;
And were I to pay down a hundred pounds
For every Lie given, as men pay Twelve pence,
And worthily, for Swearing, I would give thee
The Lie, nay though it were in the Court of Honor
So oft, till of the Thousands I am worth,
I had not left a hundred. For is't likely
So brave a Gentleman as Rochfield is,
That did so much at Sea to save my life,
Should now on Land shorten my wretched days,
In ruining my Daughter? A rank Lie!
Have you spread this to any but my self?
Less.
I am no Intelligencer.
Wood.
Why then 'tis yet a secret?
And that it may rest so, Draw; Ile take order
You shall prate of it no further.
Less.
Oh, my Sword
Is enchanted, Sir, and will not out o'th Scabbard:
I will leave you, sir; yet say not I give ground,
For 'tis your own you stand on.
Enter Bonvile & Clare.
Clare here with Bonvile? excellent! on this
I have more to work. This goes to Annabel,
And it may increase the Whirlwinde.
Exit.
Bou.
How now, Sir? Come, I know this choler bred in you
For the Voyage which I took at his entreaty;
But I must reconcile you.
Wood.
On my credit
There's no such matter. I will tell you Sir,
And I will tell it in laughter: The Cause of it
Is so poor, so ridiculous, so impossible
To be believed! Ha, ha, he came even now
And told me that one Rochfield, now a Guest
(And most worthy Sir, to be so) in my House,
Is grown exceedingly familiar with my Daughter.
Bon.
Ha?
Wood.
Your wife, and that he has had favors from her.
Bon.
Favors?
Lures to which Gallants spread their wings, and stoop
In Ladies bosoms. Nay, he was so false
To Truth and all good Manners, that those Jewels
You lockt about her Neck, he did protest
She had given to Rochfield? Ha! methinks o'th sudden
You do change colour. Sir, I would not have you
Believe this in least part: My Daughter's honest,
And my Guess is a noble Fellow: And for this
Slander deliver'd me by Lessingham,
I would have cut his throat.
Bon.
As I your Daughters,
If I finde not the Jewels 'bout her.
Clare.
Are you returned
With the Italian Plague upon you, Jealousie?
Wood.
Suppose that Lessingham should love my Daughter,
And thereupon fashion your going over,
As now your Jealousie, the stronger way
So to divide you, there were a fine Crotchet!
Do you stagger still? If you continue thus,
Enter Rochfield and Annabel
I vow you are not worth a welcome home
Neither from her, nor me. See, here she comes.
Clare.
I have brought you home a Jewel.
Ann.
Wear it your self;
For these I wear are Fetters, not Favors.
Clare.
I lookt for better welcome.
Roch.
Noble sir, I must wooe your better knowledge?
Bon.
Oh dear sir,
My Wife will bespeak it for you.
Roch.
Ha? your Wife.
VVood.
Bear with him, sir, he's strangely off o'th hinges.
Bon.
The Jewels are i'th right place; but the Jewel
Of her heart sticks yonder. You are angry with me
For my going over.
Ann.
Happily more angry for your coming over.
Bon.
I sent you my Will from Dover?
Ann.
Yes Sir.
Bon.
Fetch it.
I shall Sir, but leave your Self-will with you.
Exit.
VVood.
This is fine, the woman will be mad too.
Bon.
Sir, I would speak with you.
Roch.
And I with you of all men living.
Bon.
I must have satisfaction from you.
Roch.
Sir, it growes upon the time of payment.
Wood.
What's that? what's that? Ile have no whispering.
Enter Annabel with a Will.
An.
Look you, there's the Pattent
Of your deadly affection to me.
Bon.
'Tis wellcome,
When I gave my self for dead, I then made over
My Land unto you, now I finde your love
Dead to me, I will alter't.
An.
Use your pleasure,
A man may make a garment for the Moon,
Rather then fit your Constancy.
Wood.
How's this? Alter your Will.
Bon.
'Tis in mine own disposing,
Certainly I will alter't.
Wood.
Will you so my friend?
Why then I will alter mine too.
I had estated thee, thou peevish fellow,
In forty thousand pounds after my death,
I can finde another Executor.
Bon.
Pray sir, do,
Mine Ile alter without question.
Wood.
Doest hear me?
And if I change not mine within this two hours,
May my Executors cozen all my kindred
To whom I bequeath Legacies.
Bon.
I am for a Lawyer, sir.
VVood.
And I will be with one as soon as thy self,
Though thou ridest poste to'th devil.
Roch.
Stay let me follow, and cool him.
VVood.
Oh by no means,
You'l put a quarrel upon him for the wrong,
Roch.
No believe it sir, he's my wisht friend.
Wood.
Oh come, I know the way of't;
Carry it like a French quarrel, privately whisper
Appoint to meet, and cut each others throats
With Cringes and Embraces, I protest
I will not suffer you exchange a word
Without I over hear't.
Roch.
Use your pleasure.
Exit Woodroff, Rochfield.
Clare.
You are like to make fine work now.
An.
Nay, you are like to make a finer buissiness of't.
Clare.
Come, come, I must sowder you together.
An.
You? why I heard
A bird sing lately, you are the onely cause
Works the division.
Clare.
Who? As thou ever lovedst me,
For I long, though I am a Maid, for't.
An.
Lessingham.
Clare.
Why then I do protest my self first cause
Of the wrong, which he has put upon you both,
Which please you to walk in, I shall make good
In a short relation; come Ile be the clew
To lead you forth this Labyrinth, this toyl
Of a supposed and causeless Jealousie.
Cankers touch choicest fruit with their infection,
And Fevers seize those of the best complexion.
Exeunt.
Enter Woodroff and Rochfield.
Wood.
Sir, I have I not said I love you? if I have,
You may believ't before an Oracle,
For there's no trick in't, but the honest sence.
Roch.
Believe it, that I do, sir.
Wood.
Your love must then
Be as plain with mine, that they may suit together:
I say you must not fight with my son Bonvile.
Roch.
Not fight with him, sir?
VVood.
No, Not fight with him, sir.
I grant you may be wronged, and I dare swear
The womans lord, and must not always be told
Of his faults neither, I say you must not fight.
Roch.
Ile swear it, if you please sir.
Wood.
And forswear I know't
E're you lay ope the secrets of your valour,
'Tis enough for me I saw you whisper,
And I know what belongs to't.
Roch.
To no such end, assure you.
Enter Lessingham.
Wood.
I say you cannot fight with him.
If you be my friend for I must use you,
Yonder's my foe, and you must be my Second,
Prepare the Slanderer, and get another
Better then thy self too; for here's my Second,
One that will fetch him up, and fierk him too.
Get your tools, I know the way to Callis-sands,
If that be your Fence-school, hee'l show you tricks 'faith,
Hee'l let blood your Calumny, your best guard
Will come to a Peccavi I believe.
Less.
Sir, if that be your quarrel,
He's a party in it, and must maintain
The side with me, from him I collected
All those Circumstances concern your Daughter,
His own tongue's confession.
Wood.
Who from him?
He will belie to do thee a pleasure then,
If he speak any ill upon himself,
I know he ne're could do an injury.
Roch.
So please you, Ile relate it, sir.
Enter Bonvile, Annabel, Clare.
VVood.
Before her husband then, and here he is
In friendly posture with my Daughter too;
I like that well. Son Bridegroom, and Lady Bride,
If you will hear a man defame himself,
(For so he must if he say any ill,) then listen.
Bon.
Sir, I have heard this story, and meet with your opinion
in his goodness, the repitition will be needless.
Your father has not, Sir. Ile be brief in the delivery.
VVood.
Do, do then, I long to hear it.
Roch.
The first acquaintance I had with your Daughter,
Was on the Wedding-Eve.
VVood.
So, 'tis not ended yet, methinks.
Roch.
I would have robb'd her.
VVood.
Ah, thief.
Roch.
That Chain and Bracelet which she wears upon her, she
ransom'd with the full esteem in Gold, which was with you my
VVood.
Ah, thief agen.
Roch.
For any attempt against her honor, I vow I had no
Thought on.
VVood.
An honest thief 'faith yet.
Roch.
Which she as nobly recompenc'd, brought me home,
And in her own discretion thought it meet,
For cover of my shame, to call me Cousin.
VVood.
Call a thief Cousin? Why, and so she might,
For the Gold she gave thee, she stole from her husband,
'Twas all his now, yet 'twas a good Girl too.
Roch.
The rest you know, sir.
VVood.
Which was worth all the rest, thy valor Lad; but Ile
have that in Print, because I can no better utter it.
Roch.
Thus (Jade unto my Wants, and spurred by my Necessities)
I was going, but by that Ladies councel I was staid; (for
that Discourse was our familiarity.) And this you may take for
my Recantation, I am no more a thief.
VVood.
A blessing on thy heart,
And this was the first time I warrant thee too.
Roch.
Your charitable Censure is not wrong'd in that.
VVood.
No, I knew't could be but the first time at most;
But for thee (brave Valor) I have in store,
That thou shalt need to be a thief no more.
Soft Musick.
Ha? What's this Musick?
Bon.
It chimes a Jopæan to your Wedding, sir, if this be your
Bride.
Less.
Can you forgive me? some wilde distractions had overturned
my own condition, and spilt the goodness you once knew
in me, but I have carefully recovered it, and overthrown the fury
on't.
Clare.
It was my cause that you were so possest, and all
though you forgive me not.
Less.
You have no need for your repentance then which is due
to it: all's now as at first it was wisht to be.
Wood.
Why, that's well said of all sides. But soft, this Musick
has some other meaning: Another Wedding towards, Good
speed, good speed.
Enter Compass and the four Gallants, Bride between Franckford and another, Luce, Nurse, and Childe.
Comp.
We thank you, sir.
Wood.
Stay, stay, our neighbor Compass, is't not?
Comp.
That was, and may be agen to morrow, this day Master
Bridegroom.
Wood.
Oh! give you joy. But sir, if I be not mistaken, you
were married before now; how long is't since your wife died?
Comp.
Ever since yesterday, sir.
Wood.
Why, she's scarce buried yet then.
Comp.
No indeed, I mean to dig her grave soon, I had no leisure
yet.
Wood.
And was not your fair Bride married before?
Wife.
Yes indeed, sir.
Wood.
And how long since your husband
departed?
Wife.
Just when my husbands wife died.
Wood.
Bless us Hymen, are not these both the same parties?
Bon.
Most certain, sir.
Wood.
What Marriage call you this?
Comp.
This is called Shedding of Horns, sir.
VVood.
How?
Less.
Like enough, but they may grow agen next year.
VVood.
This is a new trick.
Comp.
Yes sir, because we did
not like the old trick.
VVood.
Brother, you are a helper in
this design too.
Fr.
The Father to give the Bride, sir.
Comp.
And I am his son, sir, and all the sons he has; and this
is his Grand-childe, and my elder brother, you'l think this strange
now.
Wood.
Then it seems he begat this before you?
Comp.
Before me? not so sir, I was far enough off when 'twas
done; yet let me see him dares say, this is not my Childe, and
this my father.
Bon.
You cannot see him here, I think sir.
Wood.
Twice married! Can it hold?
Comp.
Hold? It should hold the better, a wise man would
think, when 'tis ty'd of two knots.
Methinks it should rather unloose the first,
And between 'em both make up one Negative.
Eust.
No sir, for though it hold on the contrary, yet two Affirmatives
make no Negative.
Wood.
Cry you mercy, sir.
Comp.
Make what you will, this little Negative was my wifes
laying, and I Affirm it to be mine own.
Wood.
This proves the marriage before substantial, having this issue
Comp.
'Tis mended now sir; for being double married, I may
now have two children at a birth, if I can get 'em. D'ye think
Ile be five years about one, as I was before?
Eust.
The like has bin done for the loss of the Wedding-ring,
And to settle a new peace before disjoynted.
Lyon.
But this indeed sir, was especially done, to avoid the
word of Scandal, that foul word which the fatal Monologist cannot
alter.
Wood.
Cuckow.
Comp.
What's that, the Nightingale?
Wood.
A Night-bird, much good may do you, sir.
Comp.
Ile thank you when I'm at Supper. Come Father,
Childe, and Bride; and for your part Father, whatsoever he, or
he, or t'other says, you shall be as welcome as in my t'other wifes
days.
Fr.
I thank you, sir.
Wood.
Nay, take us with you, Gentlemen:
One Wedding we have yet to solemnize,
The first is still imperfect. Such troubles
Have drown'd our Musick: but now I hope all's friends.
Get you to Bed, and there the Wedding ends.
Comp.
And so good night, my Bride and Ile to bed:
He that has Horns, thus let him learn to shed.
Exeunt.
| A Cure for a Cuckold | |