University of Virginia Library

Actus Tertius.

Theodore, Neighbours.
Sacks.
The.
Come neighbours, pray draw neer; my fellow Jasper
Has told you wherefore you were sent for hither.

1. Nei.
I, I thank you friend.

2. Nei.
And my good master too.

The.
My master touch'd with sorrow and remorse
For that unhappy error of his life,
That fault (alas!) which by too true a name
Is termed misery, determines now
By deeds of tender charity, to make
The wronged poor amends, and to the world
Declare the fruits of a reformed life.
And first your pardon, neighbours, he would beg,
And next to Heaven, be reconcil'd to you.

1. Nei.
Now blessing on his heart.

2. Nei.
Good tender soul!

3. Neig.
I ever thought him a right honest man.

The.
He that before did churlishly engross
And lock those blessings up, which from the hand
Of Heaven were showr'd upon him, has at last
Found their true use, and will henceforth redeem
The former mispent time. His wealthy stores
Shall be no longer shut against the poor;
His bags seal'd up no longer, to debar
The course of fitting bounty. To you all
Of corn and money, weekly he'll allow
In recompense a greater quantity
By far, then men of greater rank shall do:
Nor will he come himself to take your thanks,
Till, as he sayes, he has deserv'd them better.
Mean time by me, he pours his bounty forth,
Which he desires with greatest secrecy
May be perform'd; for all vainglorious showes
And ostentation does his soul abhor:
He sounds no trumpet to bestow his almes,
Nor in the streets proclaimes his charity;
Which makes the vertue vice, nor would he have
The world take notice of you at his doors.

1. Nei.
See, see, religious man!

2. Neig.
Ah neigbour!
Some in the world have been mistaken in him

The.
Nor would he have you blaze his bounty forth,
And prayse him openly. Forbear it, neighbours;
Your private prayers only he desires,
And hearty wishes: for true charity
Though nere so secret, findes a just reward.
I am his servant newly entertain'd,
But one to whom he does commit the trust
Of his desires in this, and I should wrong
His goodness strangely, if I should keep back
The least of what his bounty doth intend.
Come in with me, Ile fill your sacks with corn,
And let you see what money he bestows.

Omnes Neig.
We'll pray to Heaven to reward his goodness.

Exeunt.
Euphues, Barnet.
Euph.
Our Dotterel then is caught?

Bar.
He is, and just
As Dotterels use to be: the Lady first
Advanc'd toward him, stretch'd forth her wing, and he
Met her with all expressions, and is caught
As fast in her lime-twigs as he can be
Until the Church confirm it.

Euph.
There will be
Another brave estate for her to spend.

Bar.
Others will be the better for't, and if
None but a Dotterel suffer for't, what loss
Of his can countervail the least good fortune
That may from thence blow to another man?

Euph.
She spent her tother husband a great fortune.

Bar.
Dotterel's estate will finde her work again
For a great while; two thousand pounds a yeer
Cannot be melted suddenly; when 'tis,
Men can but say, her prodigality
Has done an act of justice, and translated
That wealth which fortunes blindness had misplac'd
On such a fellow; what should he doe with it?

Euph.
And thou say'st right, some men were made to be
The conduit pipes of an estate, or rather
The sives of fortune, through whose leaking holes
She means to scatter a large flood of wealth,
Besprinkling many with refreshing showers:
So usurers, so dying Aldermen
Pour out at once upon their sive-like heirs
Whole gusts of envy'd wealth; which they together
Through many holes let out again in showers,
And with their ruine water a whole country.
But will it surely be a match?

Bar.
As sure
As the two old death's-heads to morrow morning
Are to be joyn'd together.

Euph.
Who, Sir Argent
And his Lady?

Bar.
Yes, if she keep touch
In what she promis'd me, Ile undertake
Her Dotterel shall be sure, and given to her
In matrimony.

Euph.
Given to his wife?
I see thou mean'st in Dotterel to bring back
The ancient Spanish custome, where the women
Inherited the land, rul'd the estates;
The men were given in marriage to the women
With portions, and had joyntures made to them:
Just so will be his case, he will be marryed
Unto a brave subjection: How the fool
Is caught in his own noose! what confidence
Had he, that he would never marry any
But such forsooth, as must first fall in love
With him, not knowing of his wealth at all?

Bar.
Well, now he's fitted: he begun at first
With fair Artemia.

Euph.
He might have told
Her of his wealth, and mist her too, or else
I am deceiv'd in her; true vertuous love
Cannot be bought so basely: she besides
Has been in love, I'm sure, and may be still,
Though he be fled the land. But now I thinke on't,
I must go see whether old Earthworms son
Have yet perform'd what she desir'd; she stays
At home

Bar.
Ile in, and see how Dotterel
Courts his brave mistress: I left him composing
A sonnet to her. There are the old couple
Within too.

Euph.
If a man could get to heare
Their way of courting, 'twould be full as strange
As Dotterel's is ridiculous: but stay.
Sir Argent Scrape, Lady Covet, brought in chaires.
Here comes the lovely Bride and Bridegroom forth:
Prithee let's venture to stay here a little
Behinde the hangings man; we shall be sure
To heare their love; they are both somewhat deafe,
And must speak lowd.

Bar.
Content, Ile stay with thee.

S. Arg.
Leave us a while; now, Madam, you have seene
So have your learned counsel, that I deal
Squarely with you; my personal estate
Is no lesse worth then I profest, when first
I mov'd my loving suit.

Bar.
I marry, Sir,
A loving suit indeed.

Euph.
Let um go on
In their own proper dialect.

La. Co.
I finde it,
And should be loath but to requite your truth
In the same kinde; you seem'd at first to question
How strong my title was in that estate
Which was yong Scudmore's once; 'tis a fair mannor.

Euph.
'Tis true, old rottennesse, too good for you.

La. Co.
My counsel can enforme you that I kept it,
And did enjoy possession while he liv'd;
And now he's dead, who should recover it?
The heires are poore and beggarly.

S. Arg.
Nay, I think
We neede not feare their suing against us.

La. Co.
If they should stirre, a little piece of money
Would stop their mouths.

Euph.
A little piece of durt
Will stop your mouth ere long, and then the suit
Will goe against thee, mischief.

Bar.
Prithee peace;
Thou art not merry now, but cholericke.

Euph.
I think of my wrong'd frend.

La. Co.
But you were saying
You made no doubt but shortly to enjoy
Your kinsman Eugeny's estate; that were
A fair addition to your land; they say
It goes at fifteen hundred pound a year.

S. Arg.
'Tis true, and 'tis well worth it.

La. Co.
But what hopes
Have you to gain it shortly?

S. Arg.
He, you know
By Scudmore's death has forfeited his life
Unto the law; and the estate's entail'd
On me as the next heir.

La. Co.
But he is fled.

S. Arg.
No, no, I know he lurks not farre from hence,
And I shall shortly learne the very place
By some intelligence: I have provided
My secret scouts; and then you know th'assizes
Are now at hand; the time will be too short
To get a pardon, specially as I
Have lay'd some friends to stall it underhand.

Euph.
Here's a new mischief Barnet.

Bar.
And a strange one.

Lad. Cov.
And then you must not spare a little money
To hasten execution at an hour
Unusual; those things may well be done,
Else what were money good for?

Sir. Arg.
You say right.
If 'twere once come to that, I fear it not.

Lad. Cov.
Well, Sir, I see all's right and straight between us;
You understand how welcome you are hither,
I need not tell it o'er again.

Sir Arg.
No, Lady,
I will be bold to say, I doe not come
Now as a stranger, but to take possession
Both of your house and you.

Euph.
He cannot speak
Out of that thriving language in his love.

Lad. Cov.
Will you goe in again? our guests perhaps
Thinke the time long.

Sir Arg.
With all my heart:
A cup of sack would not doe much amiss.

Lad. Cov.
We'll have it with a toast. Who's neer there, ho!

Enter Servants, and carry them out.
Bar.
What a strange kinde of pageant have we seen?

Euph.
Barnet, I cannot tell, whether such strange
Unsatiable desires in these old folks
That are half earth already, should be thought
More impious, or more ridiculous.

Bar.
They are both alike.

Euph.
But a monstrous
Unnatural plot as his, to apprehend
His kinsman, I nere heard of; If I knew
Where Eugeny remain'd, though 'twere his fortune
To kill a friend of mine, I'd rescue him
From this unnatural and wolvish man.

Bar.
That would betray his life to satisfie
His avarice, not justice of the Law.
Enter Dotterel, Lady Whimsey.
Here comes another piece of matrimony
That may be shortly.

Euph.
'Tis better far then tother;
They are the last couple in hell.

Dot.
Save you gallants.

Bar.
You are the gallant, Sir, that on your arm
Do wear the trophies of a conquer'd Lady.

Euph.
Madam, I had almost mistaken my salutation,
And bid, God give you joy.

Lad. Whim.
Of what I prethee?

Euph.
Of this young gallant, call him by what name
Or title you are pleas'd, husband or servant.

Bar.
He may be both, Sir, he is not the first
Has been a husband and a servant too.

Dot.
I am her servant, Sir, and I confess
Have an ambition, and so forth.

Lad. Whim.
How now servant?

Euph.
I tell you truly, Madam, 'tis reported
(And those reports are fatal still you know)
That Mr. Dotterel and you are purpos'd
To bear th'old Knight and Lady company
To morrow to the Church.

Lad. Whim.
That I confesse,
And so will you I thinke.

Euph.
Nay, but to do
As they do Madam, ty the lasting knot.

Lad. Whim.
Do you heare, servant? this it is to have
So proper a servant, every one supposes
I must needes be in love.

Dot.
I would you were
As deepe in Cupid's bookes as I.

Euph.
That is
In Cupid's favour. You are a happy man.

Lad. Whim.
My servant has been searching Cupid's bookes
I thinke, to finde that Sonnet that he gave me.
Are you content that I should shew your poetry?

Dot.
Do Mistris, I am not asham'd on't.
But you shall give me leave to read it to um.
'Tis but a Sonnet, Gentlemen, that I fitted
To my fair Mistris here.

Euph.
Let us be happy
To heare it Sir.

Dot.
Take it as it is:
A paper. He reades.
Deare, do not your fair beauty wrong,
In thinking still you are too yong.

Euph.
—How! too yong!

Bar.
Let him alone, I know the song.

Dot.
How do you it like, Gentlemen?

Euph.
Very well.
The song's a good one.

Bar.
Oh monstrous!
Never man stole with so little judgement.

Euph.
Of all the love-songs that were ever made,
He could not have chose out one more unfit,
More palpably unfit; that must betray
His most ridiculous theft.

Lad. Whim.
Who would have thought
My Servant should suppose, I think my self
Too yong to love, that have already had
One husband.

Euph.
Oh excuse him, gentle Madam,
He found it in the song.

Bar.
And it should seeme
He could get no other song but this.

Lad. Whim.
Surely, a woman of five and thirty year old,
Is not too yong to love.

Bar.
Oh spare him, Madam.

Euph.
Let's raise him up; I think the Sonnet's good,
There's somewhat in't to th'purpose; read it again.

Euph.
—For tast most meete.
He reades it.
Very good; and there he tickled it.
Mark'd you that, Madam? the two last of all?
Then lose no time, for love hath wings
He gives you fitting counsel.

Lad. Whim.
Yes, I like it.

Dot.
I thought when they understood it, they would like it.
I am sure, I have heard this song prais'd ere now.

Lad. Whim.
This doe's deserve a double favour, servant.

Dot.
Let this be the favour, sweete Mistres.

Kisses.
Euph.
How some mens poetry happens to be rewarded!

Lad. Whim.
Shall we goe in? but prithee Euphues
What is the reason sweet Artemia
Thy Cozen is not here?

Euph.
I know not, Madam,
But her pretence was businesse; I am going
To visit her: if you goe in to keepe
Th'old couple company, Ile fetch her to you.

Lad. Whim.
I prithee do, farewell; come servant,
Shall we goe in?

Dot.
Ile wait upon you, Mistres.

Exeunt.
Theodore. Artemia.
Theod.
I will acquaint him, Lady, with the hour,
And to his longing eare deliver all
Your sweete salutes; which is the only aire
Of life and comfort Eugeny takes in.
Your constant love and vertues, sweetest Lady,
Are those preservatives, which from his heart
Expel the killing fits of melancholy,
And do in spite of fortune quicken him.

Art.
Oh would those comforts could arrive at him,
That from my wishing thoughts are hourly sent.

Theod.
Such vertuous wishes seldome are in vain.

Art.
I should be farre more sad in the behalf
Of my deare Eugeny, but that I know
He does enjoy your sweet society,
Which he beyond all value does esteem.

Theod.
His own is recompence enough for mine,
And I the gainer in it; did not grief
For his misfortune stain that perfect joy
Which I could take in his deare company.

Art.
If I should speak, Sir, how he values you,
I should too much oppresse your modesty.

Theod.
Our friendship, fairest Lay, is more old,
And he more true then that his heart so long
Should be unknown to me. Ile not be long.
Before I visit him, to let him know
What hour shall make him happy in your sight.
My longer stay, sweete Lady, might be more
Observ'd, and pry'd into. Let me be bold
To leave you now, but be your servant ever.

Art.
All happinesse attend you, worthy Sir,
Exit Theodore.
Would I my self might goe as well as send,
And see that seeming solitary place,
That place of woe. Sure it would be to me
No desert wood while Eugeny were there,
But a delightful palace. Here at home,
The more that company comes in, the more
I am alone methinkes; wanting that object
On which my heart is fix'd, I cannot be
Possest of any thing. Nothing can be
My comfort, but a hope that these sad clouds
Of our misfortunes will at last blow over.
But mischief's like a cockatrices eyes,
Sees first, and kils; or is seene first, and dies.

Enter Euphues.
Euph.
How dost thou, Couz'? I wrot a letter for thee
To Earthwormes sonne; has the yong ten i'th' hundred
Been here?

Art.
I thank you, Cozen, the Gentleman
Was with me, and but newly parted hence

Euph.
H' has got a title then by coming hither,
But he may be a Gentleman; his wealth
Will make it good.

Art.
His vertues make it good;
Believe it Cozen, there's a wealthy minde
Within that plain outside.

Euph.
How is this?
Have your quick-eyes found out his worth already?

Art.
They must be blinde that cannot, when they know him.
Well Cozen, you may laugh at me.

Euph.
By no meanes.
I know your judgment's good.

Art.
As good as 'tis,
It must content a woman. When you know him,
You'll finde a man that may deserve your friendship,
And farre above all slighting.

Euph.
I am sorry
I came not soone enough; but prethee, Cozen,
What are the wayes have taken thee so soone?

Art.
What taking do you meane? you promis'd me
You would not ask the cause I sent for him.
Though you shall know hereafter. But I hope
You do not thinke I am in love with him.

Euph.
I'll looke upon the man, and then resolve you.

Arte.
Well, do; perhaps you'll know him better then.
He knowes you well.

Euph.
Me? has he told you how?

Art.
Did you nere meet one Theodore at Venice?

Euph.
Can this be he?

Art.
Yes, very well: although
He be old Earthworms sonne, and make no shew
At home.

Euph.
And have you found out so much worth
In him already?

Art.
How do you esteeme him?
We women well may erre.

Euph.
I smell a rat;
And if my brain faile not, have found out all
Your drifts, though nere so politeckely carry'd.

Art.
I know your brain Cozen is very good,
But it may faile.

Euph.
It comes into my head
What old Sir Argent Scrape told to his Lady,
Aside.
His kinsman Eugeny lurk'd hereabouts;
He was her sweet-heart once, and may be still;
I think she's constant; though she keep it close.
This Theodore and he were fam'd for friendship.
I have collected, Cozen, and have at you.

Art.
Let's hear it, pray.

Euph.
You shall; this Theodore
I do confesse a most deserving man;
And so perchance your lover Eugeny
Has told you, Cozen! ha? do you begin
To blush already? I am sure those two
Were most entirely friends. And I am sorry
To heare what I have heard to day, concerning
Young Eugeny.

Art.
What, prethee Cozen? tell me.

Euph.
Now you are mov'd; but I may erre you know

Art.
Good Cozen tell me what.

Euph.
Nay, I believe
I shall worse startle you; though you would make
Such fooles as I beleeve he is in France.
Yes, yes, it may be so; and then you know
He's safe enough.

Art.
Oh Cozen, Ile confesse
What you would have me, do but tell me this.

Euph.
Nay, now, I will not thank you; I have found it.
And though you dealt in riddles so with me,
Ile plainely tell you all; and teach you how
You may perchance prevent your lovers danger.

Art.
Oh I shall ever love you;

Euph.
Well, come in;
Ile tell you all, and by what meanes I knew it.