University of Virginia Library

Scene 2.

A tavern in London. Wilton, Mowbray, and others discovered at dice.
MOWBRAY.
Who saw him last?

WILTON.
Whom?

MOWBRAY.
Why, the pattern man;
The eleventh commandment, by which people live
In London; the Lord Alford.

WILTON.
Bless him!

FIRST GENTLEMAN.
Three days since
I met with him, passing through Austin Friars
He was in grave talk with an Israelite;
I feared for the poor circumcised rascal;
I thought he was no match for the gentleman.

WILTON.
Well, well, revenges will be had some day,
And justice comes, though she be long a-coming.
They say he's steep'd in debts to the very lips;
An I were his creditor, I'd be like him i' the Bible,
And hold him by the throat till all were paid.

MOWBRAY.
His estates are laden with more mortgages
Than his oaks bear apples; yet he ruffles it
For ever like a pageant through the town,
And his need seems costlier than most men's wealth.

WILTON.
He hath means, sir, easy means.

MOWBRAY.
Hush, Wilton!

SECOND GENTLEMAN.
What,
What means hath his lordship?

WILTON.
Oh, the devil knows!
Not I.

FIRST GENTLEMAN.
Why, he's kept by half a score
Of loving ladies who have loving lords;
He borrows from their husbands several ways;
He will not starve till he grows old or ugly.
Yonder he comes—

WILTON.
Then I'll begone. I love not
To handle dice in his lordship's company.
[Exit Wilton.

[Enter Lord Alford.
ALFORD.
Good morrow, lads! Ha, still at the old work!
Who's winning, and who's losing? Come, I'll be
One of ye. Here be good seven hundred pounds
I mean to lose, or double, presently.

MOWBRAY.
That's well, for Jew, or mistress! I will go
Shares in your lordship's luck.

FIRST GENTLEMAN.
Then George and I
Shall be your adversaries:—now, my lord.

ALFORD.
Who saw James Forrester to-day?—so—so—
An excellent cast.

MOWBRAY.
I did; in merry humour,
Going to meet his brother, the new baronet.

FIRST GENTLEMAN.
I do not see we touch that bag of gold yet:
Your lordship has a spell for the dice, I think.

ALFORD.
Certainly, sir, I have. So Sir John Forrester
Comes home to-day, does he?

MOWBRAY.
E'en now he should be landing.

ALFORD.
What manner of man is he?—like James?

MOWBRAY.
Not much:
Graver, and less acquainted with the world;
A scholar, and a single-hearted man,
Of excellent dispositions.

ALFORD.
Is he married?

SECOND GENTLEMAN.
Oh, no! he never found that perfect lady
That he could love, they say.

ALFORD.
Indeed! There's the last cast:
That finishes the game;—good sirs, you're conquered.
I beg your pardon humbly. Well, this gentleman,
He's got this title lately?

MOWBRAY.
Aye—and with it
A fat round revenue of thirteen thousands
Per year.

ALFORD.
That's too much for a bachelor.
(Aside)
—I would I might but once get hold of him,
Easy, and rich, he were an income to me;
Teaching such fools experience, we do give them
Their money's worth—wisdom, that pearl of price,
For what all wise men are agreed is trash.

[Enter Servants, carrying in trunks, &c. Enter Sir John and James Forrester.
JOHN.
No, no, I will not set my foot again
Upon that most uneasy cradle. James,
See thou to the rest; I'm no more for the water,
My head is rocking yet; I'll keep the ground,
The new-found earth, for a little while.

JAMES.
I go,
And straight am back to you,—oh, welcome friend!
Dear brother, welcome!

[Exit.
MOWBRAY.
Welcome home again,
Worthy Sir John.

FIRST GENTLEMAN.
Good sir, I greet you well!

SECOND GENTLEMAN.
You're very welcome back to England, sir!

JOHN.
Thank you, good gentlemen! your courtesy
Is very gratefully received by me:
And 'tis a happiness indeed, once more,
To hear the pleasant tongue my mother spoke,
And grasp an Englishman again by the hand.

ALFORD.
May I take leave to bid you welcome, sir,
To your own country; wealthier, and more noble,
In the world's common use of speech; but neither
To those who knew your worth and true nobility.

FORRESTER.
Lord Alford, as I think?

ALFORD.
The same.

FORRESTER.
My lord,
Your speech would make me blush, but that I know
'Tis a mere fashion thus to praise demerit,
And courtesy, rather than truth, is thanked for it.

ALFORD.
Sir, I have long desired much to know you.

FORRESTER.
Your lordship does me honour.

ALFORD.
Not a whit;
Myself much pleasure. Shall we sit, good sir?
They may be tedious landing of your goods,
You're doubtless weary?

FORRESTER.
Why, I thought I was,
Till from the main into the river's course,
Swoll'n with the briny mingling of the sea,
We turned our prow; then, as the morning broke
Upon the narrowing stream, and from each shore
Up drew the misty curtains of the night,
My senses, challenged by each several object
Of welcome sight and sound, and smell of land,
Grew brisk and wakeful; and the kindly greeting
That met me here has given me rest already,
Refreshing me with pleasure and content.

MOWBRAY.
We'll take our leave awhile; hereafter, sir,
We shall be proud to wait upon your leisure.

[Exeunt Mowbray and Gentlemen.
ALFORD.
Methinks good Master James has a long task;
How shall we waste the time? Oh! here be dice—
D'ye play?

FORRESTER.
No, pardon me, I have not touched
A die for many years.

ALFORD.
Rare abstinence! a vow, perhaps?

FORRESTER.
Even so, my lord, a vow. When but a boy,
I threw, and won at once so large a stake,
That I thought the devil must be bribing me
To an ill course: and though so much the gainer,
I never since have given him leave to tempt me.

ALFORD.
(Aside)
—This is some man come from before the flood:
Who ever heard the like? (Aloud)
—Oh! you're to blame,
I find these little squares rare playfellows;
Your brother loves them well.

FORRESTER.
I fear, too well.
[Lord Alford drops the dice; in stooping to pick them up a picture falls from his dress; Sir John Forrester picks it up.
You have dropped something, sir; how beautiful!—
Pray pardon me, my lord.

ALFORD.
Nay, look at it
As much as you will: d'ye think it fair?

FORRESTER.
Oh, rare!
Most rare! you must forgive me, my good lord,—
Is there indeed a woman like to this?
Or is't a cunning sport of the painter's fancy?
It were great happiness to dream this face.

ALFORD.
Sir, 'tis no dream, but an indifferent copy
Of a lady's face, whom I am well acquainted with.

FORRESTER.
You know her?

ALFORD.
Very well.

FORRESTER.
And is it possible
She is as fair as this?

ALFORD.
As much more fair
As life to death, and nature's workmanship,
To the poor mimicry of art. These eyes,
And brows; that rosy mouth, and golden hair,
Are barren truths, which in the real woman,
Inform'd by the light of life's most subtle magic,
Become transfigured to a thing divine.

FORRESTER.
I can believe it; here it is, my Lord.

ALFORD.
Nay, do not stint yourself, if it pleases you;—
Are you satisfied with gazing?

FORRESTER
(retaining the picture and looking at it).
'Twere unsafe
Much longer to indulge such contemplation—
It seems to grow alive while I look at it.

ALFORD.
Why so it might. Would you care to know this lady?

FORRESTER.
I hardly care to own how much; you'll laugh,
And I feel as if a witchcraft had possess'd me.
It is most strange, but from these eyes a spell
Unutterable—a sudden, irresistible charm
Has seized upon my fancy; I shall offend you,
But I'd give—I know not what—to know her.

ALFORD
(aside).
Oh ho! there is a right string after all
To make the puppet dance; why, she shall do it.
(Aloud)
—Don't break your heart; I think that I can say
You shall see her.

FORRESTER.
How!

ALFORD.
And yet not pay that price—
I mean ‘you know not what’—for the privilege.
She might prove a dear beauty at that rate.

FORRESTER.
How say you?
That I may see this lady?

ALFORD.
Certainly;
And know her, and converse with her, and more
If it so like you.

FORRESTER.
Indeed! I'm sorry for it!

ALFORD.
Sorry! for what?

FORRESTER.
That she is such an one,
Methinks there shines a spirit in this face
Of inward purity; how sweet and sad
It is! Surely those heavenly eyes are not
Lights that betray men's souls!

ALFORD.
I cry your mercy!
Perhaps you have a vow too against this,
And will not go with me to see this lady?

FORRESTER.
I've no such virtue in me I confess,
But will be bounden to you to fulfil
Your promise to me. That fair countenance
Hath laid fast hold of my fancy. If that woman
Has a price—which yet 'tis pity that she has!—
Though 'twere my best estate I think I'd give it
To buy her favour

ALFORD.
Good Sir John, to-morrow
You shall strike your bargain for yourself.

FORRESTER.
To-morrow!
I did not think my first half day in England
Could have seem'd so long—

ALFORD.
See, where your brother comes,
Let us go meet him.

FORRESTER
(returning the picture).
You will certainly
To-morrow let me see her?

ALFORD.
Certainly
And if your speed in wooing match my wishes,
To-morrow you may call that lady yours.

[Exeunt.