University of Virginia Library

Scena ultima.

Enter Sir John, and Holdfast.
Sir John.
Be silent on your life.

Holdfast.
I am or'ejoy'd.

Sir John.
Are the pictures plac'd as I directed?

Holdfast.
Yes Sir.

Sir John.
And the musicians ready?

Holdfast.
All is done
As you comanded.

at the door.
Sir John.
Make haste, and be carefull,
You know your cue, and postures.

Plenty
within.
We are perfit.

Sir John.
'Tis well: the rest are come too?

Holdfast.
And dispos'd of
To your own wish.

Sir John.
Set forth the table. So.
Enter Servants with a rich Banquet.
A perfit Banquet. At the upper end,
A table, and rich Banquet.
His chair in state, he shall feast like a Prince.

Holdfast.
And rise like a Dutch hang-man.

Enter Luke.
Sir John.
Not a word more.
How like you the preparation? fill your room,
And faste the cates, then in your thought consider
A rich man, that lives wisely to himself,
In his full height of glory.

Luke.
I can brook
No rivall in this happinesse. How sweetly
These dainties, when unpay'd for, please my palate!
Some wine. Joves Nectar, Brightnesse to the star
That govern'd at my birth. Shoot down thy influence,
And with a perpetuity of being
Continue this felicity, not gain'd
By vows to Saints above, and much lesse purchas'd
By the thriving industry; nor fal'n upon me
As a reward to piety, and religion,
Or service for my Country. I owe all this
To dissimulation, and the shape
I wore of goodnesse. Let my brother number
His beads devoutly, and believe his alms
To beggars, his compassion to his debters,
Will wing his better part, disrob'd of flesh,
To sore above the firmament. I am well,
And so I surfet here in all abundance;
Though stil'd a cormorant, a cut-throat, Jew,
And prosecuted with the fatal curses
Of widdows, undone Orphans, and what else
Such as maligne my state can load me with,
I will not envie it. You promis'd musick?

Sir John.
And you shall hear the strength and power
Of it, the spirit of Orpheus rais'd to make it good,
And in those ravishing strains with which he mov'd
Charon and Cerberus to give him way
To fetch from hell his lost Euridice.
Appear swifter then thought.

Musick. At one door Cerberus, at the other, Charon, Orpheus, Chorus.
Luke.
'Tis wondrous strange.

Sir John.
Does not the object and the accent take you?

Luke.
A pretty fable. But that musick should
Plenty and Lacie ready behind.
Alter in friends their nature, is to me
Impossible. Since in my self I find
What I have once decreed, shall know no change.

Sir John.
You are constant to your purposes, yet I think
That I could stagger you.

Luke.
How?

Sir John.
Should I present
Your servants, debters, and the rest that suffer
By your fit severity, I presume the sight
Would move you to compassion.

Luke.
Not a mote.
The musick that your Orpheus made, was harsh
To the delight I should receive in hearing
Their cries, and groans. If it be in your power
I would now see'em.

Sir John.
Spirits in their shapes
Shal shew them as they are. But if it should move you?

Luke.
If it do. May I ne're find pity.

Sir John.
Be your own judge.
Appear as I commanded.

Sad musick. Enter Goldwire, and Tradewell as from prison. Fortune, Hoyst, Penurie following after them. Shavem in a blew gown, Secret, Dingem, Old Tradewel, and Old Goldwire with Serjeants. As erected they all kneel to Luke, heaving up their hands for mercy. Stargaze with a pack of Alminacks, Milliscent.
Luke.
Ha, ha, ha!
This move me to compassion? or raise
One sign of seeming pity in my face?
You are deceiv'd: it rather renders me
more flinty, and obdurate. A South wind
Shall sooner soften marble, and the rain
That slides down gently from his flaggy wings
O'reflow the Alps: then knees, or tears, or groans
Shall wrest compunction from me. 'Tis my glory
That they are wretched, and by me made so,
It sets my happinesse off. I could not triumph
If these were not my captives. Ha! my tarriers
As it appears have seiz'd on these old foxes,
As I gave order. New addition to
My Scene of mirth. Ha, ha! They now grow tedious
Let'em be remov'd, some other object. If
Your art can shew it.

Sir John.
You shall perceive 'tis boundlesse.
Yet one thing reall if you please?

Luke.
What is it?

S. Jo.
Your Neeces er'e they put to Sea, crave humbly
Though absent in their bodys, they may take leave
Of their late suitors statues.

Enter Lady, Anne, and Mary.
Luke.
There they hang,
In things different I am tractable.

Sir John.
There pay your vows you have liberty.

Ann.
O sweet figure
Of my abused Lacie! when remov'd
Into another world; I'le daily pay
A sacrifice of sighs, to thy remembrance;
And with a shower of tears strive to wash of
The stain of that contempt, my foolish pride,
And insolence threw upon thee.

Marie.
I had been
Too happie, if I had injoy'd the substance,
But far unworthy of it, now I shall
Thus prostrate to thy statue.

Lady.
My kind husband,
Blessed in my misery, from the monastery
To which my disobedience confin'd thee,
With thy souls eye, which distance cannot hinder,
Look on my penitence. O that I could
Call back time past, thy holy vow dispens'd,
With what humility would I observe
My long neglected duty.

Sir John.
Does not this move you?

Luke.
Yes as they do the statues, and her sorrow
My absent brother. If by your magick art
You can give life to these, or bring him hither
To witnesse her repentance, I may have
Perchance some feeling of it.

Sir John.
For your sport
You shall see a Master-piece. Here's nothing but
A superficies, colours, and no substance.
Sit still, and to your wonder, and amazement
I'le give these Organs. This the sacrifice
To make the great work perfect.

Enter Lacie and Plenty.
Luke.
Prodigious.

S. John.
Nay they have life, and motion. Descend
And for your absent brother. This wash'd off
Against your will you shall know him.

Enter Lord and the rest.
Luke.
I am lost.
Guilt strikes me dumb.

Sir John.
You have seen my Lord the pageant.

Lord.
I have, and am ravish'd with it.

S. John.
What think you now
Of this clear soul? this honest pious man?
Have I stripp'd him bare. Or will your Lordship have
A farther triall of him? 'tis not in a wolf to change his natute.

Lord.
I long since confess'd my errours

S. John.
Look up, I forgive you,
And seal your pardons thus.

Lady.
I am too full
Of joy to speak it.

Ann.
I am another creature,
Not what I was.

Mary.
I vow to shew my self
When I am married, an humble wife,
Not a commanding mistris.

Plenty.
On those terms
I gladly thus embrace you.

Lacie.
Welcome to
My bosome. As the one half of my self,
I'le love you, and cherish you.

Goldwire.
Mercy.

Tradewell and the rest.
Good Sir mercy.

Sir John.
This day is sacred to it. All shall find me
As far as lawfull pity can give way too't,
Indulgent to your wishes, though with losse
Unto my self. My kind, and honest brother,
Looking into your self, have you seen the Gorgon?
What a golden dream you have had in the possession
Of my estate? but here's a revocation
That wakes you out of it. Monster in nature
Revengefull, avaritious Atheist,
Transcending all example. But I shall bee
A sharer in thy crimes, should I repeat 'em.
What wilt thou do? Turn hypocrite again,
With hope dissimulation can aid thee?
Or that one eye will shed a tear in sign
Of sorrow for thee? I have warrant to
Make bold with mine own, pray you uncase. This key too
I must make bold with. Hide thy self in some desart,
Where good men ner'e may find thee: or in justice
Pack to Virginia, and repent. Not for
Those horrid ends to which thou did'st design these.

Luke.
I care not where I go, what's done with words
Cannot be undone.
Exit Luke.

Lady.
Yet Sir, shew some mercy;
Because his cruelty to me, and mine,
Did good upon us.

Sir John.
Of that at better leisure,
As his penitencie shall work me. Make you good
Your promis'd reformation, and mistrust
Our City dames, whom wealth makes proud, to move
In their own spheres, and willingly to confesse
In their habits, manners, and their highest port,
A distance 'twixt the City, and the Court.

Exeunt omnes.