 | The Court Begger |  |
ACT I.
SCENE I.
Mendicant, Charissa.Men.
Yo' have given him then his answer?
Cha.
Forc'd by you,
Heaven knowes with my much sorrow. Such a Lover
So in all points deserving of true worth,
And best indowments to make up a Man
That I shall never see—your pardon sir,
Though you pulld back, by violence, my hand,
In which my heart was freely given to him,
It is not in your power or strength of art
To beat a sigh back, or restraine a teare
Which I must offer to his memory.
Men.
Such stormes soone wast themselves in absent Lovers
When light of Reason, and good Counsell shall
Breake forth and shine upon 'em: and for your part
Daughter, I know it shall. And, presently,
You love this Frederick.
Cha.
Love knows I do.
Men.
You say he is deserving in all points.
Cha.
My love emboldens me to tell you he is.
Men.
Charissa, take me with you. Is he not
Deficient in that onely absolute point
That must maintaine a Lady, an estate?
Cha.
Love weighes not that.
Men.
What can he shew you more
To take you with, then a wild head of hayre;
A very Limebush to catch Lady-birds?
A Tissue Doublet; and a Riband shop
Hung in his Hatbands, might set up a Pedler?
Can this maintaine a Lady?
Cha.
You but looke
Upon his outside sir.
Men.
I trust you have not
Bin over inwardly acquainted with him.
Cha.
Sir, he has Valour, Wit, and Honour, you well know
Hee's of a noble Family extracted.
Men.
What's that a yeare? those parts may be acquir'd
In winning of a strumpet. But what Joincture
Can he propound to you? or, (in case he dyes,
Your Dowry being spent) what personall Estate
Ist like hee'l leave you, but his Powder glasse,
His Combe and Beard-brush, and perhaps a Trunkfull
Of Elegies, Raptures, Madrigalls and Sonnets?
No let him goe; discard him: and embrace
The hopes that I have for thee in the hopefull,
Exquisite Cavalier, Courtier and Souldier,
Scholler, (and what not!) brave Sir Ferdinando:
There's a Man rising in the favour Royall,
And may in thee Charissa, make me happy.
Cha.
Sir you have given me liberty of speech;
You aime at your own fortune, not at mine.
Men.
I seeke no fortune, but for thy advancement:
All that I shall call mine must be thine owne.
Cha.
I would be playner yet; beseeching you
I be not thought too lose in my obedience.
Men.
Speake freely Girle.
Cha.
Your ayme has bin to raise
You state by Court-suits, begging as some call it,
And for that end you left your Countrey life,
And Lands too ever since my Mother dy'd,
Who while shee liv'd with best of womans judgement
Which held you from that course of selling faire
Possessions to enable you with money
To purchace wit at Court. You pardon me?
Men.
On, on.
Cha.
And for th' Exchange of a faire Mansion-house
Large fruitfull Fields, rich Medowes and sweet pastures
Well cropt with corne and stockd as well with Cattell,
A parke well stor'd with Deere too, and Fishponds in't,
And all this for a lodging in the Strand now—
But doe I not offend?
Men.
No, no, on still.
Cha.
Your own fed Beefes and Muttons, Fowle and Poultry
Loaded your long boords then; and you had then
Neighbours could boast your hospitality,
And poore, that for the remnants prayd for you,
Now all concludes upon a two-dishd table.
And whereas then you had a numerous Family
Of Servants and Attendants, out of which
For profit or for pleasure you could call
Your Bayliffe, Groom, your Falconer, or your Huntsman,
Now sir, a Varlet Coachman, and Footboy
Are all your Retinue; and for the Hounds
You kept, that made you sport and Musick, now
Where such a forfeiture is to be begg'd;
Where one would purchase a Reprieve, another
A Pardon or a lease of Life Rope-free
For ready money: Then where Goods or Lands
Are found of men that make away themselfes,
And so of fooles and madmen; All to set
Your trade of Begging up and still you beg:
But your own want of favour holds you back
From reaching any profit by't, because
You beg by Mediators tongues, which you
Call Favorites, who reape the crop of all,
And leave you but the Gleanings; some small pittance
To keepe alive the itch of begging in you—
Men.
Shee speakes home and within me, to the purpose.
Cha.
Still wasting your own fortunes; till at last
You have no hopefull project left to thrive by
But to put me upon this suppos'd favorite
To beg for you when it is doubtfull yet
Whether hee'l take me with the Dowry, which
Mine Unkle left me, though you adde your projects.
Men.
The noble Gallant loves thee, Girle, and holds
Thy Person and thy vertues Dowry enough,
Cha.
He is a wanton Lover, full of change,
And at this instant singularly devoted
Unto that humorous Lady, the young Widow.
Men.
The Lady Strangelove?
Cha.
Shee is ambitious
To draw all mens affections to her service,
And then abuses all by scornes or slightings,
And this (they say) has made him almost mad.
Men.
He mad! believe it not: his reason is
Married to him better then so. How now!
Ha' you seene the noble Knight from me?
How did he entertaine my Message? ha!
Enter Gabrel.
Gab.
Hee's not Sir to be spoken with or seene
To any purpose, but by his Phisitians.
Men.
So sodainly and dangerously sick,
Where are my hopes?
Gab.
I cannot say how sick
He is; nor can himselfe give any account
Of his condition: for he is mad sir.
Men.
How! mad?
Gab.
Starke staring mad; as mad
As you can thinke a Courtier must be
That is more mad then all the rest.
Men.
If this be true I sinke, what is suppos'd
The cause?
Gab.
That sir has puzzell'd all the Doctors
In weighing all his severall wild affections;
One findes he was ambitious of Court favour,
And guesses he was cross'd in some great suite;
Another takes him as he was a Souldier,
And losing cost and travaile in the warre
Must lose his wits for that. A third collects
He was a Poet that drunk too deepe of Helicon,
And turnd his braine in clyming of Parnassus:
A fourth considering that he was a Gamster
Long and much favourd, and uprais'd by fortune
To mountaynous heapes of Gold, conjectures, that
Some late unlucky hand or chance at play
Hath with his money swept his wit away.
Men.
Fy, these can be no causes to remove,
Or shake his settled judgement or his temper.
Gab.
Then sir a fift and youngst head among
The learned men (what call you him for a Doctor?
Hay that affects gay clothes and Flanders Laces,
That trim effeminate Gentleman) he
An extreame Amorist, desperatly devoted
Unto the service of some threescore Ladies,
And honord every one the most in costly presents,
Banquets and Verses; and thinks the disdaine
Of one or all of them has turnd his braine.
Cha.
I told you sir, the cause before; and nam'd
That humorous Lady for it, whom in heart
I can no lesse then thanke.
Men.
Goe, get you up.
And stirre not from my Chamber on my blessing
Till my returne, nor admit any one
Unto a conference with you.
Cha.
I obey you.
Exit.
Gab.
Some of your project searchers wait without sir,
Loden it seemes with new intelligences.
Men.
They may come in: but as I feare they bring
Me little comfort, I am sure I shall
Afford them none. Now sirs, your businesse?
Enter 3 Projectors.
1. Pro.
We wait upon your honour my good Lord
To crave the knowledge of what good successe
Your honor finds in our late suits my Lord.
Men.
Why honor? why my Lord?
2. Pro.
We stile you now.
3. Pro.
As all must doe hereafter.
1. Pro.
Yes, and that
In a short space of time, the world holds no
Proportion else, nor shall it more be sayd
That money can buy Land; or great Estates
In Lands and Mannor-houses be call'd Lordships.
1. 2. 3.
Or wealth joynd with desert attaine to honor.
Gab.
So now the Game's afoot. They hunt in full cry.
1. P.
My Lord 'tis most apparant.
Men.
How you torture me!
Wee'l mak't appeare most plainly on our lives.
3. P.
And credits too.
Gab.
Their Lives and credits, ha, ha, ha.
1. P.
That in the space of one whole year our projects
Shall bring in fifty thousand pounds to us,
And hundred thousand to your selfe; and to
The Coffers Royall for full seaven years space
64 Thousand 783 l. 7s. 9d ob. q. per annum,
Tis here already cast. Which to make good
Wee'l venture Lives and Goods.
2. P.
Our Wives and Children.
(Mend. takes the scroll and peruses it.
3. P.
We can ingage no more.
Gab.
A wondrous strange ingagement
Your lives and goods; your wives & children gentlemen!
That's too deep set, and questions the Kings Mercy:
Me thinks it were enough, for non-performance
You would submit your bodies to perpetuall
Imprisonment at the Kings charge; and leave
Your wives and children to their severall Parishes
You are still faithlesse sir, in all projects.
1.
But when you shall perceive the wealthy sonnes
Dayly brought in, and be, continually,
Troubled with the Receipts (if you may be trusted
That have so little faith) when you shall soyle
And gall your fingers ends with telling money,
Yet find the lickings of 'em sweet, you'l then
Sing other Notes.
2.
Meane time entreat my Lord
To put you to some Tellers Clearke to teach you
Ambo-dexterity in telling money.
Gab.
Do you hear sir? Can you give me two sixpences
For a shilling—or any single money?
2. P.
Pish.
Gab.
Cry mercy, you weare none in ready coine,
But all in Bullion lockt up in your brave-chests,
And there you have the treasure of the Indies;
Then all the Hollanders have waited for
These 7 yeares out of the Spanish plate fleets.
3.
Pugh.
Gab.
But put mine eye out (now I dare you to't)
With any single peece of ready money.
1. P.
My Lord your man abuses us here strangely
With his old misbeliefe. But still we doubt not
Your honourable good opinion of us.
2. P.
You have pervs'd this weighty paper here.
Men.
It weighes not all twelve graines.
1. P.
No more?
Nay the whole platforme of a stately City,
Or a designe to conquer a whole Nation,
But doe you note the grounds, the Rules and Reasons,
First for the easinesse of the severall grants.
2. P.
Next for performance of our undertakings.
3. P.
And then the certainty o' th' propounded profit:
Both to the King and us.
1. P.
Without all grievance unto the subject.
Fab.
That's no little marvaile.
1. P.
Take 'em into particulars my Lord,
First this for Perrukes. The Monopoly
Of making all the Perrukes male and female,
Through Court and Kingdome.
Gab.
There's a capitall project.
2. P.
Note the necessity, that they be well made
Of no diseas'd or infectious stuffe, of dead or living,
No verminous or sluttish locks or combings,
But harmlesse and sound haire, of innocent,
And wholesome people.
Gab.
They must then reape none
From Gallowses, nor Hospitalls; from whence
They have had great supplies.
1. P.
You have in that
Said very well; For here's a Reformation
Innocent and wholsome.
Gab.
How if a man or woman shall desire
To weare a friends hayre so departed; as
You his; or your wife yours; may't not be had?
1. P.
Or if your friend or Mistris dye so, you
Procure the haire and bring it from the Gallows
To th' office, and it may be done accordingly.
Gab.
You have in that said very well Sir too.
1. P.
Now out of this provision, what an infinite
Profit will rise i' th' generall use of 'em,
And multiplicity that will be worne
By people of all sorts degrees and ages:
The old to hide their naturall baldnesse, and
The young and middle-ag'd their artificiall
Or accidentall.
Gab.
By the pox or so.
1. P.
They shall be brought into that reputation
That none shall be esteem'd so sound or wise
As publique wearers of them: which to effectuate
Tis requisite that you obtaine a Mandat
Unto all Courtiers, that would be thought wise
To weare false hayre: because clownes have been noted
To talke like fooles or mad men in their own.
Men.
No more of that.
1.
What say to this my Lord,
Touching new fashions of apparrell; sutes,
Hats, Boots, Swords, Belts, Ribands, &c.
For every wearer of his first o'th' fashion
To pay a groat to th' King; and every Tradesman
Two pence on every severall piece he sells
Of any such new fashion the first yeare?
Gab.
And what may this pride money amount unto
Per annum, can you guesse?
Men.
I will not meddle in it.
No my good Lord.
Men.
No, nor your Perrukes neither.
3.
What say to this my Lord of the Balconyes?
Men.
Nor that.
1.
This then for sucking out of cornes.
Men.
Away with it.
2.
This then: that on the birth of every Girle
The Father pay a groat; to hearten men
To live soberly and get Souldiers.
Men.
Away.
1.
This makes amends for all then. A new project
For buylding a new Theatre or Play-house
Upon the Thames on Barges or flat boats
To helpe the watermen out of the losse
They've suffer'd by Sedans; under which project
The subject groanes, when for the case of one
Two abler men must suffer; and not the price,
Or pride of Horse-flesh or Coach-hire abated.
This shall bring flouds of gaine to th' watermen
Of which they'l give a fourth of every fare
They shall boord at the floating Theatre,
Or set ashore from thence, the Poets and Actors
Halfe of their first yeares profits.
Men.
Fy away.
1.
This is a weighty one: For massy summes
That may be freely given out of the City,
To have but this assurance, that hereafter
They may ingrosse the getting of their own
Children: by order tane that Cavaliers,
And Courtiers may no more invade,
Or mix with Tradesmens wives: whereby tis thought
So many City Prodigalls have been gotten;
Onely the thrifty countrey Gentlemen
To be excepted: for by them 'tis guest
So many Citizens grow landed men.
Were not they gotten by Projectors think you?
3.
My Lord your servant jeeres us.
Men.
To deale plainely
I doe allow't in him—
Gab.
Heaven has heard my prayers.
Men.
And will heare him or any man oppose
All that is put to me by way of project
To put me by all further hopes in 'em:
For (with hearts griefe I speake it) he by whom
I onely hop'd to climbe (alas) is fallen.
1.
What out of favour?
Men.
No, out of his Reason.
2.
The noble Cavalier sir Ferdinando.
3.
That late stood candidate for the favour royall,
Is he now fallen besides himselfe?
Men.
Even he.
1.
What have you then to doe my Lord
In lieu of all your service but beg him?
Men.
His greater and his nearer friends at Court
Will prevent me.
2.
They shall not, never feare it.
1.
Come we will make quick worke of this.
My Lord you shall disburse but twenty pieces.
2.
Among us three.
3.
And we will instantly
Finde his estate.
1.
And lay you down a way
So plaine that you shall say All's yours,
Before you stir a foot.
Gab.
But when he has travell'd
Till he has tir'd himselfe, he shall returne,
And say All's lost, ist not so Gentlemen?
Men.
I will not part with any money sirs.
1.
Trust me you doe not well to put my Lord
Off o' his benefit, by disheartning him
In this small venture. Will you then be pleas'd
To give us but ten pieces.
Not a penny.
2.
Five you shall my Lord,
And stand no longer thus in your own light.
3.
Or but a piece a Man.
Men.
Not a denier.
1.
A dinner then my Lord, but of one piece.
Men.
My answers cannot please you. Answer 'em
you.
Gab.
I wonder how you having stretch'd your throats
With the loud sounds of thousands, hundred thousands
Can, after all, so faintly whisper forth
One piece; and that as much in vaine, as all
The massy summes: for all but brings you nothing,
It shewes you Gentlemen of resolute patience;
And would take thankfully I warrant you
An od halfe crowne amongst you: and what say you
To every man a kick on the condition?
What say you to one with tother?
1.
This abuse
Shall lose your Master a hundred thousand pound.
Gab.
Goe coine your bullion braines into the money
And come againe. My master was
Your Lord even now, as he was Lord of Beggers.
1.
I hope to live to see him beg of us.
Gab.
Out hundreds, thousands, ten thousands, hundred,
thousands, Millions, ten Millions, Millions upon Millions
(Ex. Projectors.
The Devill ride that hind most of 'em, for
A raw bon'd Jade: Sfoot he has lam'd my toes.
Men.
I am glad I am so rid of 'em, and now
As th'art my Servant and my loving Kinseman—
Gab.
To follow you in all things but in Projects.
Men.
Looke to my House and Daughter, that she start not;
Nor any entrance be allowd to Fredrick
To re-intangle her in his Love. I know
My trust impos'd in thee.
Gab.
You need not feare sir
But, good sir, no more projects.
Men.
I have but one,
On which I'le set my rest. Thoult say tis good.
Gab.
Except it be the begging of this Madman
It can be nothing.
Men.
Tis the very same:
By which I will advance my house and name.
Exit.
Gab.
The Beggers best is that he feeles no shame:
Sprecious what meane you? Ha' you forgot so soone
Your Fathers strict command and he scarce gone yet?
Enter Charissa.
Cha.
Alas hee'l then meet Fredrick and divert him,
I saw him at the window making this way.
Gab.
He gets no entrance to you. I must obay
A master though you can neglect a father.
Cha.
Be not so cruell. Thou mayst live to love,
And need the pitty of a friend.
Gab.
I pitty you,
And will do no more then you know how to aske
For your own good. I understand your cause
And can relieve you if you'l yeild to councell.
Cha.
You are my Kinsman; and have bin my friend,
Though you observe my father who, I feare,
Has not a fathers love towards me.
Gab.
His love is great and certaine,
And all his travell is for your advancement:
But he goes blindfold on unprosperous wayes
Led by credulity. Projects! pox o' projects
The patron of his projects is (it seemes)
Pepper'd with madnesse. Tis but Justice on him,
And now i'le give you a secret if you'l promise
To be ruld by me.
You shall rule me cosen.
Gab.
This Ferdinand, your fathers great Court-godling
Nere sought you for a wife; but to have whor'd you:
(That is the English on't) and to appeare
A right great man in th'act, he would ha' made
By hopes and promises your credulous Father
The instrument of your prostitution:
Which to effect, (though still he undertook
His hopefull projects) cunning Lawyer-like
He crost or lost him still in all, on purpose
That poverty at length might urge him to
Give you to his dispose.
Cha.
This was my feare.
Gab.
Away: some body comes.
Cha.
Tis Fredrick. I must see him.
Gab.
You'l never see him more then. Go to your chamber.
A little patience and he shall be yours.
Cha.
So dos a heart consume in lingring fire,
When cooling hopes are cast on hot desire.
Exit.
Gab.
Poore heart I pitty her, and will labour for her.
Enter Frederick.
Fred.
O Gabriel! I am happy in finding thee,
Thy master absent, whom I saw, in hast
Now passing towards the Court. Where's my Charissa?
Gab.
You may not see her.
Fred.
May not see her sir?
Gab.
May not! nay must not: shall not see her.
Fred.
Y'are very plaine with me.
Gab.
Her owne command
Warrants me speake it sir.
Fred.
A villaine speakes it.
Draw.
Gab.
I have a sword speakes other language for me.
Fred.
Can she whose thoughts are truth, and written here,
Here in this breast, giving me ample welcome,
Give thee a countermand to bar me from it?
Or like another woman?
Repent thee of thy trespasse yet and live.
Gab.
Sir, if you thinke to fight, talke not too much;
Or, if you needs must talke, then heare as well.
Fred.
What wouldst thou say?
Gab.
Sir, I have more to say
Then fits this place, since you are apt to quarrell;
And this no ground to bustle on: nor indeed
Where I dare for my honesty and trust
Allow you longer stay. If therefore you
Will walke, I'le wait upon you; and direct you
In a more ready way to finde Charissa.
Fred.
Is shee not here i' th' house?
Gab.
O sir, a man
May come within his arme-reach of his money
In the Exchequer: but he must walke about
To finde due order e're he draw it out.
Fred.
The fellow's honest, valiant, and discreet,
Full man, in whom those three additions meet.
Gab.
Sir, dare you trust me?
Fred.
Yes I dare; and why?
Because if thou dar'st fight, thou dar'st not lie.
| The Court Begger | |