University of Virginia Library

Scena secunda.

Enter Lacie, and Page.
Lacie.
You were with Plenty?

Page.
Yes Sir.

Lacie.
And what answer
Return'd the clown?

Page.
Clown Sir! he is transform'd,
And grown a gallant of the last edition;
More rich then gaudie in his habit, yet
The freedom, and the bluntnesse of his language
Continues with him. When I told him that
You gave him Caution, as he lov'd the peace,
And safety of his life, he should forbear
To passe the Merchants threshold, untill you
Of his two Daughters had made choice of her
Whom you design'd to honour as your wife,
He smil'd in scorn.

Lacie.
In scorn?

Page.
His words confirm'd it,
They were few, but to this purpose; Tell your Master,
Though his Lordship in reversion were now his,
It cannot awe me. I was born a Free-man,
And will not yeeld in the way of affection
Precedence to him. I will visit em,
Though he sate Porter to deny my entrance.
When I meet him next I'le say more to his face.
Deliver thou this, then gave me a piece
To help my memorie, and so we parted.

Lacie.
Where got he this spirit.

Page.
At the Academie of valour,
Newly erected for the institution
Of elder Brothers. Where they are taught the ways,
Though they refuse to seal for a Duellist,
How to decline a challenge. He himself
Can best resolve you.

Enter Plenty and three Serving-men.
Lacie.
You Sir?

Plentie.
What with me Sir?
How big you look? I will not loose a hat
To a hairs breadth, move your Bever, I'le move mine,
Or if you desire to prove your sword, mine hangs
As near my right hand, and will as soon out, though I keep
Not a Fencer to breath me, walke into Moor-fields,
I dare look on your Toledo. Do not shew
A foolish valour in the streets, to make
Work for shop-keepers, and their clubs, 'tis scurvie,
And the women will laugh at us.

Lacie.
You presume
On the protection of your Hinds.

Plentie.
I scorn it:
Though I keep men I fight not with their fingers,
Nor make it my Religion to follow
The gallants fashion, to have my family
Consisting in a Foot-man, and a Page,
And those two sometimes hungrie. I can feed these,
And cloath'em too, my gay Sir.

Lacie.
What a fine man
Hath your Taylor made you?

Plentie.
'Tis quite contrary,
I have made my Taylor, for my cloaths are pai'd for
As soon as put on, a sin your man of title
Is seldom guiltie of, but Heaven forgive it.
I have other faults too very incident
To a plain Gentleman. I eat my Venison
With my neighbours in the Countrie, and present not
My phesants, partridges, and growse to the userer,
Nor ever yet paid brokage to his scrivener.
I flatter not my mercers wife, nor feast her
With the first cherries, or pescods, to prepare me
Credit with her husband, when I com to London.
The wooll of my sheep, or a score or two of fat oxen
In Smithfield, give me money for my expences.
I can make my wife a jointure of such lands too;
as are not encombred, no annuity
Or statue lying on 'em. This I can do
And it please your future honour, and why therefore
You should forbid my being a suiter with you
My dulnesse apprehends not.

Page.
This is bitter.

Lacie.
I have heard you Sir, and in my patience shewn
To much of the stoicks. But to parley further,
Or answer your grosse jeers would write me coward.
This onely thy great grandfather was a Butcher,
And his son a Grasier,
Thy Sire Constable of the hundred, and thou the first of your dunghill, created gemtleman
Now you may come on Sir,
you, and your thrashers.

Plentie.
Stir not on your lives.
This for the grasiers, this for the butcher.

they fight
Lacie.
So Sir.

Page.
I'le not stand idle, draw my little rapier
Against your bumb blades. I'le one, by one despatch you.
Then house this instrument of death, and horrour.

Enter Sir John, Luke, Goldwire, Tradewell.
Sr. John.
Beat down their weapons. My gate ruffians hall:
What insolence is this?

Luke.
Noble Sir Maurice,
Worshipfull Mr. Plenty.

Sr. John.
I blush for you,
Men of your qualitie expose your fame
To every vulgar censure. This at midnight
After a drunken supper in a Tavern,
(No civill man abroad to censure it)
Had shewen poor in you, but in the day, and view
Of all that pass by, monstrous

Plentie.
Very well Sir;
You look for this defence.

Lacie.
'Tis thy protection,
But it will deceive thee.

Sr. John.
Hold, if you proceed thus
I must make use of the next Justices power,
And leave perswasion. And in plain terms tell you
Enter Lady, Anne, Mary, and Milliscent.
Neither your birth, Sir Maurice, nor your wealth,
Shall priviledg this riot. See whom you have drawn
To be spectators of it? can you imagine
It can stand with the credit of my daughters,
To be the argument of your swords? 'ith street too?
Nay e're you do salute, or I give way,
To any private conference, shake hands
In sign of peace. He that draws back parts with
My good opinion. This is as it should be.
Make your approaches, and if their affection
Can sympathize with yours, they shall not come
On my credit beggars to you. I will hear
What you reply within.

Lacie.
May I have the honor
To support you Lady.

Plenty.
I know not what's supporting,
But by this fair hand, glove and all, I love you.

Exeunt omnes preter Luke.
To him Enter Hoyst, Penury, Fortune.
Luke.
You are come with all advantage. I will help you
To the speech of my Brother.

Fortune.
Have you mov'd him for us?

Luke.
With the best of my endeavours, and I hope.
You'l find him tractable.

Penury.
Heaven grant he prove so.

Hoyst.
Howe're I'le speak my mind.

Enter Lord Lacie.
Luke.
Do so M. Hoyst.
Go in. I'le pay my duty to this Lord,
And then I am wholly yours. Heaven bless your honor.

Lord.
Your hand Mr. Luke, the world's much chang'd with you
Within these few months; then you were the gallant:
No meeting at the Horse-race, Cocking, Hunting,
Shooting, or Bowling, at which Mr. Luke
Was not a principal gamester, and companion
For the Nobility.

Luke.
I have paid dear
For those follies, my good Lord, and 'tis but justice
That such as soar above their pitch, and will not
Be warn'd by my example, should like me
Share in the miseries that wait upon't.
Your Honor in your charitie may do well
Not to upbraid me with those weaknesses
Too late repented.

Lord.
I nor do, nor will;
And you shall find I'le lend a helping hand
To raise your fortunes: How deals your brother with you?

Luke.
Beyond my merit, I thank his goodnesse for't.
I am a Freeman, all my debts discharg'd,
Nor does one Creditor undone by me
Curse my loose riots. I have meat and cloaths,
Time to ask heaven remission for what's past;
Cares of the world by me are laid aside,
My present poverty's a blessing to me;
And though I have been long, I dare not say
I ever liv'd till now.

Lord.
You bear it well;
Yet as you wish I should receive for truth
What you deliver, with that truth acquaint me
With your brothers inclination. I have heard
In the acquisition of his wealth, he weighs not
Whose ruines he builds upon.

Luke.
In that report
Wrongs him, my Lord. He is a Citizen,
And would increase his heap, and will not lose
What the Law gives him. Such as are worldly wise
Pursue that tract, or they will ne're wear skarlet.
But if your Honor please to know his temper,
A Table, Count book, Standish, Chair and stools set out.
You are come opportunely. I can bring you
Where you unseen shall fee, and hear his carriage
Towards some poor men, whose making or undoing
Depend upon his pleasure.

Lord.
To my wish,
I know no object that could more content me.

Exeunt.