University of Virginia Library

Scena tertia.

Enter Sir John, Hoyst, Fortune, Penurie, Goldwire.
Sir John.
What would you have me do? reach me a chair.
When I lent my moneys I appear'd an Angel;
But now I would call in mine own, a Divel.

Hoyst.
Were you the Divels damme, you must stay till I have it.
For as I am a Gentleman,

Enter Luke placing the Lord Lacie.
Luke.
There you may hear all.

Hoyst.
I pawn'd you my land for the tenth part of the value.
Now, cause I am a Gamester, and keep Ordinaries,
And a Liverie punk, or so, and trade not with
The money-mongers wives, not one will be bound for me:
'Tis a hard case, you must give me longer day
Or I shall grow very angry.

Sir John.
Fret, and spare not.
I know no obligation lies upon me
With my honey to feed Drones. But to the purpose,
How much owes Penurie?

Goldwire.
Two hundred pounds:
His Bond three times since forfeited.

Sir John.
Is it su'd?

Goldwire.
Yes Sir, and execution out against him

Sir John.
For bodie and goods.

Goldwire.
For both, Sir.

Sir John.
See it serv'd.

Penurie.
I am undone; my wife and family
Must starve for want of bread.

Sir John.
More Infidel thou
In not providing better to support 'em.
What's Fortunes debt?

Goldwire.
A thousand, Sir.

Sir John.
An estate
For a good man. You were the glorious Trader,
Embrac'd all bargains; the main venturer
In every Ship that launch'd forth; kept your wife
As a Ladie, she had her Coach, her choice
Of Summer-houses, built with other mens moneys
Took up at Interest, the certain road
To Ludgate in a Citizen. Pray you acquaint me
How were my thousand pounds imploy'd?

Fortune.
Insult not
On my calamity, though being a debtor,
And a slave to him that lends, I must endure it.
Yet hear me speak thus much in my defence;
Losses at sea, and those Sir, great, and many,
By storms, and tempests, not domestical riots
In soothing my wives humor, or mine own,
Have brought me to this low ebb.

Sir John.
Suppose this true;
What is't to me? I must, and will have my money,
Or l'le protest you first, and that done have
The Statute made for Bankrupts serv'd upon you.

Fortune.
'Tis in your power, but not in mine to shun it.

Luke.
Not as a brother, Sir, but with such dutie
As I should use unto my Father, since
Your charitie is my parent, give me leave
To speak my thoughts.

Sir John.
What would you say?

Luke.
No word, Sir,
I hope shall give offence; nor let it relish
Of flattery, though I proclaim aloud:
I glory in the bravery of your mind,
To which your wealths a servant. Not that riches
Is or should be contemn'd, it being a blessing
Deriv'd from heaven, and by your industry
Pull'd down upon you; but in this dear, Sir,
You have many equals: Such a mans possessions
Extend as far as yours, a second hath
His bags as full; a third in credit flies
As high in the popular voice: but the distinction
And noble difference by which you are
Divided from 'em, is, that you are styl'd
Gentle in your abundance, good in plentie,
And that you feel compassion in your bowels
Of others miseries (I have found it, Sir,
Heaven keep me thankful for't) while they are curs'd
As rigid and inexorable.

Sir John.
I delight not
To hear this spoke to my face.

Luke.
That shall not grieve you,
Your affability, and mildnesse cloath'd
In the garments of your debtors breath
Shall every where, though you strive to conceal it
Be seen, and wondred at, and in the act
With a prodigall hand rewarded. Whereas such
As are born only for themselvs, and live so,
Though prosperous in wordly understandings,
Are but like beasts of rapine, that by odds
Of strength, usurp, and tyrannize o're others
Brought under their subjection.

Lord.
A rare fellow!
I am strangely taken with him.

Luke.
Can you think Sir,
In your unquestion'd wisdome, I beseech you,
The goods of this poor man sold at an out-crie,
His wife turn'd out of doors, his children forc'd
To beg their bread: this gentleman's estate
By wrong extorted can advantage you?

Hoyst.
If it thrive with him hang me, as it will damn him
If he be not converted.

Luke.
You are too violent.
Or that the ruine of this once brave Merchant
(For such he was esteem'd though now decay'd)
Will raise your reputation with good men.
But you may urge, pray you pardon me, my zeal
Makes mee thus bold and vehement, in this
You satisfie your anger, and revenge
For being defeated. Suppose this, it will not
Repair your losse, and there was never yet
But shame, and scandall in a victorie
When the rebells unto reasons passions fought it.
Then for revenge by great souls it was ever
Contemn'd, though offered; entertain'd by none
But cowards, base, and abject spirits, strangers
To morall honestie, and never yet
Acquainted with religion.

Lord.
Our divines
Cannot speak more effectually.

Sir John.
Shall I be
Talk'd out of my money?

Luke.
No, Sir, but intreated
To do your self a benefit, and preserve
What you possesse intire.

Sir. John.
How my good brother?

Luke.
By making these your beads-men. When they eat,
Their thanks next heaven, will be paid to your mercy
When your Ships are at Sea, their prayers will swell
The Sails with prosperous winds, and guard'em from
Tempests, and pirates: keep your ware-houses
From fire, or quench'em with their tears.

Sir John.
No more.

Luke.
Write you a good man in the peoples hearts,
Follow you every where.

Sir John.
If this could be.

Luke.
It must or our devotions are but words,
I see a gentle promise in your eie,
Make it a blessed act, and poor, me rich
In being the instrument.

S. John.
You shall prevail.
Give'em longer day. But do you hear, no talk of't.
Should this arrive at twelve on the Exchange.
I shall be laught at for my foolish pity.
Which mony men hate deadly. Take your own time
But see you break not. Carrie'em to the Cellar,
Drink a health, aud thank your Orator.

Penurie.
On our knees Sir.

Fortune.
Honest M. Luke!

Hoyst.
I blesse the Counter where
You learn'd this Retorick.

Luke.
No more of that friends.

Exeunt Luke, Hoyst, Fortune, Penurie
S. John.
My honorable Lord

Lord.
I have seen and heard all,
Excuse my manners, and wish heartily
You were all of a peece. Your charity to your debtors
I do commend, but where you should expresse
Your pietie to the height, I must boldly tell you
You shew your self an Athiest.

Sir John.
Make me know
My error, and for what I am thus censur'd,
And I will purge my self, or else confesse
A guiltie cause.

Lord.
It is your harsh demeanour
To your poor brother.

S. John.
Is that all?

Lord.
'Tis more
Then can admit defence. You keep Hymas
A Parasite to your table, subject to
The scorn of your proud wife: an underling
To his own Neeces. And can I with mine honor
Mix my blood with his, that is not sensible
Of his brothers miseries?

S. John.
Pray you take me with you,
And let mee yeeld my reasons why I am
No opener handed to him. I was born
His elder brother, yet my fathers fondnesse
To him the younger robb'd me of my birth-right:
He had a fair estate, which his loose riots
Soon brought to nothing. Wants grew heavy on him
And when layd up for debt, of all forsaken,
And in his own hopes lost, I did redeem him,

Lord.
You could not do lesse.

S. John.
Was I bound to it my Lord?
What I possesse, I may with justice call
The harvest of my industry. Would you have me,
Neglecting mine own family, to give up
My estate to his disposure?

Lord.
I would have you,
What's pass'd forgot, to use him as a brother;
A brother of fair parts, of a clear soul,
Religious, good, and honest.

S. John.
Outward gloss
Often deceivs, may it not prove so in him,
And yet my long acquaintance with his nature
Renders me doubtful, but that shall not make
A breach between us: Let us in to dinner,
And what trust, or imployment you think fit
Shall be conferred upon him: If he prove
True gold in the touch, I'le be no mourner for it.

Lord.
If counterfeit, I'le never trust my judgment.

Exeunt.