University of Virginia Library

ACT. IV

SCENE I.

Greenwich Park, at sunrise.
Enter Peppercole.
Pep.
Body of me! If I had smelt a murder
At the job's end, I'd stay'd at home. Yet who
Should know us, masqued? Ev'n swell it publicly,
And sport the inn'cent here, in the king's hunt,—
That looks the safest.

[He disappears among the trees.
Enter Jin. Vin. preceding Nigel.
Jin.
This is Greenwich Park. (As he is going, Nigel offers him money.)
No money.

Nigel.
Nay, let us part friends.

Jin.
We part
Just as we met.

Nigel.
Your mind may change; and, should it,
You'll find me in these av'nues, 'till the chase
Shall draw the king this way.

[Exit.
Jin.
(Alone.)
That Marg'ret's whim
Should take to that stark Scot! He little thinks
She sent me for him. Well, t'have got a rival
Away on any terms, was good for me:
And, faith, for him,—if, as I doubt, this murder
Should breed him trouble.

[Exit.
Horns are heard;—a stag-hunt at a distance.
Enter Margaret, in a page's dress, laid down with silver-lace—a plaid sash, and black velvet cap and plume—followed by Bridget.
Bridg.
Hark! the hounds!

Marg.
My heart
Fails. Should my uncle Heriot come home sooner
Than we expected, oh, what shall I do?

Bridg.
Why, what shall I do, when my jealous spouse
Finds I have been gadding? John, say I,—
Bridget, says he—say I, are you not glad
To see your dear come back again? Says he,
To see myself a wittoll—No, say I;
To see yourself a fool: patting, therewith,
His russet cheek;—whereat, my master breaks
Into a surly grin; I get my arm
In his; then he, you know, in common manners,
Can do no less than chuck me by the chin,
Or, if I'd give him leave, salute my cheek;
And then—

Marg.
What then?

Bridg.
Why then,—I think, betwixt
Old husband, and young wife, it is enough;
Is it not?

Marg.
How should I know? Bless us, Bridget,
He's here! step back.

[Margaret and Bridget retire among the Trees.
Re-enter Nigel.
Nigel.
Thy race is run, brave stag.
Who's that alone, breaking the quarry? Is it—
It is—King James himself!

Enter James, dressed in his quilted green velvet dress, and grey hat.
James.
First hart o'th'season! (looking at his hands, which are bloody)

Fine hands this slaughter hath bedeck'd us with!
(Starting at the sight of Nigel.)
And who are you, man? by my soul, no other
Than that pugnacious Nigel! Bonny work!
Stop us! when we're on foot—alone too—

Nigel.
Pardon,
If for one moment—

James.
(with trepidation.)
We shall hear you best
On horseback. Stand aside;—De'il's in my people!

(Looking round for his attendants.
Nigel.
Sir, by your crown, which my forefathers fought for—

James.
(much alarmed, and trying to pass Nigel.)
We're a free king, I hope; not in the power
Of any subject! What can keep my folk?
Here, Steenie, hillo! ho!

Enter Buckingham, followed by Sir Geoffry, Peppercole, Hunters, and Crowd.
Buck.
What do I see?

James.
Treason, for aught I ken! or, as it seems,
For aught you care.

Buck.
Treason! and, lo! indeed,
There's blood upon the king! dear dad and gossip,
You are not wounded?

James.
Why, I trust, I'm not;
But search him; I am sure that fire-arms peep'd
Under his garb.

Nigel.
(producing and giving up his pistols.)
I bear them openly.

James.
There! said we not? We ken the smell of powder!

Pepper. and Crowd.
Oh! parricide! Off with th'assassin!

Buck.
Ever
In deeds of blood!

Nigel.
'Tis to the king I'd speak.

James.
Hence to the Tow'r with him, and with his weapons,
Things odious in our sight.
(Sir Geoffrey gives orders to an Officer, who, with Guards, takes Nigel into custody.
Exit Nigel, guarded.
We shall do justice,
Since he appeals to Cæsar.

Marg.
(Stepping forward.)
Now or never!
My gracious liege—

James.
What, more Conspir'ators! speak!

Marg.
I cannot, Sir; let this speak for me.

[Puts her hand into her doublet for her petition.
James.
Hold him!
He likewise hath a pistol!

Sir Geof.
Only loaded
With one great paper ball; a prayer of pardon
For his confed'rate, Nigel.

James.
Young Misprision,
Hold up your head! we ken you not; yet, sure,
We've seen your face before.

Marg.
At Christmas, sir,
When many of the City made a pageant
Before your Grace—you did commend my voice,
And say, that if thereafter I should need
A boon of worth, I was to come again
Before your presence, with this holiday-suit,
And sing the song that pleased you.

James.
Why we mind
Something of that same page. If you are he,
E'en let us hear your music.

Marg.
Sir, Ill try,
If fear will give my inexpertness leave.

Song. Margaret.

James.
Well sung! and therefore we will have this linnet
Wired in a cage.

Marg.
My liege!

James.
In the same bars
The other beasts his wings in—Just i'th'Tow'r,
Whence love, we think, will scarce find out the way.
Steenie, come hither! (aside to Buckingham)
On my kingdom, man,
This boy's a girl! Some pretty Citizen,
Who loves this Lord: is't not? Now, her best boon
And his best punishment, were to engraft
Her lowly stock with his, and make him marry—
Hey?

Buck.
Such, sir, is our English laws' humanity,
It warrants not, for any man's offence,
The punishment your Grace proposes.

James.
Whisht,
A jest;—this afternoon, before your pageant,
We'll sift this girl, for so she is—and Nigel,
Thoroughly face to face. (to Sir Geoffrey)
'Till evening, lodge
Yon sprig i'th'Tow'r.

Marg.
Is this your Grace's boon?

James.
Great issues oft have hung on threads as fine—
So with her—with him—to the Tow'r: (going, looks back)
now, Steenie,
Kens not your King the smell of powder, think ye?

[Exit, followed by Buckingham, Peppercole, Hunters, and Crowd; Margaret and Bridget go off on the other side, with Sir Geoffrey and Guards.

SCENE II.

Opening in Whitefriars before the house of Trapbois. (Same as 3d scene of 2d Act.)
Enter, from the house of Trapbois, Hildebrod, Dalgarno, Skourlie, and Jin Vin, followed by Alsatians.
Skour.
(to Hild.)
Aye, Cor'oner, the removal of that Scarf,
The very engine of the murder, looks
Strangely for Nigel.

Hild.
Is it not yet stranger,
At such a time that Martha should be missing?

Skour.
(To Jin Vin)
Nigel took Martha with him?

Jin.
Near Paul's Wharf,
I landed them together. Presently,
He came, alone, back to my boat; and Martha
Appeared no more.

Skour.
Did they take aught of value?

Jin.
A huge black leathern-case.

Skour.
The very wrapper
Wherein old Trapbois kept his goldsmith's notes,
And other things of price! The usurer murder'd—
His daughter missing—and Lord Nigel present
From first to last— (to Dalg.)
My lord, you've been his friend—

Dalg.
And am so still, though he has much aggriev'd me.
Ask not my thought: I'm here but with the purpose
To serve him in his absence,—not to stir
Charges against him.

Skour.
(to Hild.)
Well, the duty's yours.

Hild.
Then, since I hear he's carried to the Tower,
I deem it fitting to adjourn the inquest
Till his examination: mean while, too,
Martha may be forthcoming.

Dal.
(aside)
Not if I
Can find her out, and spirit her from the kingdom.

Hild.
Cry a reward to any who shall give
Intelligence of her.

Skour.
Cry, a reward!
Who'll pay it?

Hild.
If none else, a good paymaster,
Not often fig'ring in your books, belike,—
Conscience!

[Exit Hildebrod, followed by all but Dalgarno, and Skourlie.
Dalg.
Who says that Fortune's blind? a lie,
A sland'rous lie! she sees and picks her gallants
For parts and spirit—men that press her briskly,
When in the cue to yield. Say I'm not fortunate.
Say I'm not wise!

Skour.
Who doubts you're both? Will Nigel?

Dalg.
Why, no, I think the pit is fairly dug
For that brief fav'rite. Such a stoat as he
A half-clothed, unbred Scot, creep in betwixt
Me, and my views—get the king's jewels lent him
To slip my mortgage off—out-favour me
In all things, ev'n to a fair wench's fancy—
I'll blight his favour!

Stour.
Not, I doubt, with Marg'ret.

Dalg.
Yes, Sir, with Marg'ret. Let a woman see
That you will have her, and you shall: that's law
All the world over, no, my man of parchment!

Skour.
You would not marry her!

Dalg.
Why not, my rival
Being bespoken for another noose?

Skour.
You banter.

Dalg.
Never more in earnest. Wherefore
Ply your mock parsons of Whitefriars here,
Your smugglers in the Hymeneal traffic,
If not to pave a way for ticklish beauty
Into our arms? The marriages they make
Wear just as well as true ones—for a week,
Perhaps a fortnight,—and your lawful loves
Hold not much longer.

Skour.
Death! you would not slur
So rare a creature with a fraud so foul!

Dalg.
Well, what dost gape at? by my faith if 'twere not
Too monstrous ev'n to hang a laugh upon,
I could almost conceive thou hadst thyself
Cast a sheep's eye at this green sprout, thou look'st
So maukishly!

Skour.
And if I had, my Lord,
Where were the monstrous, or the laughable?
May be I am not a Court-galliard; but
All women like not in one fantasy,
And I'm a man, I hope?

Dalg.
Certes, I hope so:
But woe to her who proves thee! Ha, ha, ha!
What use now could a woman turn thee to,
In all the circle of her wants and whims?

Skour.
Very jocose—exceeding merry: (losing his forced grin)
Hum!

Dalg.
To fancy thee grimacing at a woman!
Croaking in madrigal—perking thy chin—
Coaxing thy hat's immeasurable flap—
Nibbling thy thumbs—twirling thine inky fingers
Athwart the rat tails of that oily hair—
Smoothing thy band—then settling those straight skirts
Whose nether whalebone, like a term, out-standing,
Protects th'entail:—such gallantries to please
A woman!

Skour.
(who during the foregoing speech has committed these awkwardnesses in the order followed by Dalgarno)
Where i'th'name of patience, is one
To put one's hands? (thrusting them into his pockets.)


Dalg.
You lawyers mostly use
To put them in the pockets of your neighbours.

Skour.
A mirthful tone!—You'll take a graver, soon.
Skirts, band, and beaver, fingers, hair, and chin!
I have no legs to please a woman neither,
Hey, my keen critic? By this light, I fancy
A woman might go further and fare worse!

[Exit.

SCENE III.

An Apartment in the Tower.
Nigel, guarded by a Sentry, who paces behind the doorway, in the back Scene.
Nigel.
A sad reverse of yesterday's fair hopes!
The Jewels that should have made my fortune whole,
Forced from my use by murd'rers, and myself
Lodg'd in the Tow'r, the tomb of living men!

(Sir Geoffry unlocks the door, leading in Margaret.)
Sir Geof.
A fellow captive!—Tis a slip scarce worth
The turning of a key on.

Nigel.
I desire
No company.

Sir Geof.
'Tis the Lieutenant's order:
We have no spare apartments, and he wills not
So fair a lad be thrust with baser persons.

[Exit.
[Margaret stands trembling, and with downcast eyes, on the spot where Sir Geoffry has left her.]
Nigel.
He has a gracious mien!—What, pretty lad,
Cheer up! your hand is cold, and trembles!

She silently suffers herself to be led forward: then suddenly wrings her hands, and spreading them before her face, begins to sob aloud. Nigel smooths down her hair with his hand; she shrinks.
Nigel.
Nay,
Weeping! O fie! you must not, like a girl,
Give way to tears.

Marg.
Sir, you are very good—
And I very unhappy!

Nigel.
Some wild frolick,
Some naughty trick?—yet why i'th'Tow'r?

Marg.
Indeed,
I'm innocent; that is, I have done wrong,
But not—

Nigel.
(taking the end of her plaid sash.)
This looks as we were countrymen:
Whence do you come, my boy, and what's your name?

Marg.
My name to you? Oh, never!

Nigel.
You suspect me?

Marg.
No, no, I doubt you not; could tell you all,
That is, not quite, my lord, but almost all.

Nigel.
(negligently.)
Well, I but wish'd to serve you.
(impatiently.)
If all were right, you'd speak to me more frankly.

Marg.
Why, then, I am resolved to tell you nothing.

Nigel.
Why, then, you'll keep your secret; but, observe,
I have found out one passage of your mystery,

Marg.
What means your lordship?

Nigel.
That my pretty comrade
Wears not her sex's habit.

Marg.
It enfolds
One who will not disgrace it!

Nigel.
From a man
Those words might mean a challenge—Nay, fear nothing;
Spite of that garb, I feel you cannot merit
A wanton treatment.

Marg.
From your nobleness
I hoped no less.

Enter an Officer.
Officer.
A citizen, to speak
With the Lord Nigel.

Nigel.
(to Margaret)
Let not feverish thoughts
Distract you now—your pulse is high, and rest
Seems needful. (Points to a large chair in a recess.)


Marg.
(Hurrying towards it and dropping one of her Gloves)
O yes, quickly, ere a stranger
Comes in—the step approaches.

Nigel.
(Covering her face with her cloak and sash)
You'll sleep now.
Enter Strappet, to whom Nigel offers his hand.
[Exit Officer.
Landlord?

Strap.
O, no more courtesies, my Lord;
Have had enough for life! where have you pack'd
My runaway?

Nigel.
Your runaway!

Strap.
You know!
My minx—my plague—my wife—at least that was,
'Till she became your Lordship's light-o'love!

Nigel.
I never touch'd her cheek, or hand, except—

Strap.
Have you forgot the masquerading dress?

Nigel.
Except in honourable courtesy.

Strap.
Aye, that's the very word; She always praised
Your Lordship's honourable courtesy.
You've cozen'd me, between you, with your courtesy
O were your limbs but free, young as you are,
This bit of oak should make you an example
For courteous Lords!

Nigel.
Base groom, will nothing less
Content you, than to have your numskull crack'd
Against this wall?

Strap.
Oh bully on! You know
Th'Alsatian rant! A woman has been here,
(Picking up the glove which Margaret has dropped,)
No long time since, that's plain; this never fitted
Man's hand.

Nigel.
You have my answer.

Strap.
Will you say,
Here's not, e'en now, a hidden petticoat somewhere?

Nigel.
There's not, I vow—no petticoat at all.

Strap.
(Approaching the recess where Margaret is sleeping.)
I will be sure—What's in this chair, for instance?

Nigel.
(Intercepting his approach.)
What's that to thee?

Strap.
(Getting nearer to Margaret.)
I'll tell you, when I've seen
The sleeper's face.

Nigel.
(Swinging him by his arm from the chair down the stage.)
No, pardon me, good friend,
Not so familiar neither.

Strap.
So familiar,
Quotha! What, it's ill manners for a man
To peep at's own wife napping!

Nigel.
But that napper
Is not your wife.

Strap.
(Recovering from Nigel's shake.)

Your manner's rather stagg'ring:

Nigel.
(To Heriot, who at that moment appears at the door.)
Now this is kind. At such a time, a friend
Enter Heriot.
Is doubly welcome!

Heriot.
That's as conscience makes it.
My lord, my lord, how can you raise your eyes,
And look an honest tradesman in the face,
Seducer as you are?

Nigel.
Are you mad too,
About the barber's wife?

Heriot.
I've heard of that;
But, you well know 'tis not of her I speak.

Nigel.
What, have I had the fortune to detach
Some other lady, likewise, from her lord?

Strap.
Here is a precious devil among the women

Heriot.
Nor lord, nor lady; but a giddy girl
From a too careless guardian. Why, 'tis monstrous
T'affect this ign'rance that I come to claim
My poor niece, Marg'ret.

Nigel.
What has witch'd the women?
No charming creature in all London town
But takes some freak, that I may bear the blame.

Heriot.
Well play'd, indeed!

Nigel.
I never saw her, sir,
Save once at your own board, some three months past,
And yester-eve, a moment in the park;
Nay, all my memory of her face, is but
That it was passing fair.

Heriot.
I'm not so answered.

Strap.
No, no, young courtesy, we're not so answer'd.

Nigel.
Then, by mine honour, and nobility,
I have no knowledge of these gentlewomen,
Where they have been, or are, or mean to be,
Save that they are not here.

[Bridget appears by the door at the back of the stage, struggling with the sentry, and comes in.
Bridg.
My sweet young friend,
Must not be left alone.

Marg.
(waking with a start, and springing forward.)
What's that? who call'd?

[The two women thus occupy the back of the stage, right and left; Heriot and Strappet amazed, stand at equal distances in the front; so that these four form a square, in the centre of which is Nigel.
Strap.
Now!

Marg.
Bridget!

Brid.
Margaret!

Her.
Dissembler!

Nigel.
Devil!

Strap.
Two at a time, too! Have your Scotch no conscience?

Marg.
(attempts to cover her face, first with her cloak, then with her hands: these Heriot unceremoniously removes, giving her a slight shake.)


Heriot.
How comes this, minion? goodly gear, i'faith!
You'd shew your little foot and ancle, would you?
Nay, nay, your modesty's too late.

Bridg.
Well, John!

Strap.
Wife! Mrs. Strappet! do you face it out then?

Bridg.
Marry come up! does he suspect my virtue?

Nigel.
And mine too, Bridget.

Her.
Truly, with some reason.

Bridg.
Had I been that way bent, no nobleman
I'm sure, would have been likelier than your lordship;
But I would let him know—

Her.
Pray, do, good woman,
For we are much i'th'dark.

Bridg.
Why then, this fuss
Is all about a girl, a round faced girl,
That's what my wise, bald, John is jealous of.

Strap
(Looking at Nigel)
Girl, quotha! by my troth, a bouncing lass!
(To Sir Geoffry)
Look out, good master officer: 'twere better,
Turn your wild beasts out, in Tower Hill, than let
(Pulling Bridget with him)
This smooth Lord loose on honest people's wives.

Bridg.
(Significantly at Nigel with a nod towards Margaret)
You understand, I say no more, a girl!

[Exeunt Strappet and Bridget.
Nigel.
I understand, a girl? why, yes! I see
My pretty fellow-prisoner is a girl,
And pretty girls, I know, are pretty things;
But there my understanding ends.

Heriot.
Will neither
Explain?

Marg.
You much mistake me, and not less
This nobleman.

Nigel.
When all else league against me,
The more I'm bound to one who does me justice.
(Re-enter Sir Geoffry, with guards.
Now, good lieutenant?

Sir Geof.
I am sent to place
Your Lordship under stricter custody.

Nigel.
Upon what charge?

Sir Geof.
I grieve to say, of murder,
Committed in Whitefriars, upon the body
Of the old usurer, Trapbois.

Nigel.
And they dare
Impute the crime to me, who chased the felons?

Sir Geof.
Then you were there?

Nigel.
Yes, and shall call his daughter
To witness for me.

Sir Geof.
She has not been found;
Which makes no trivial circumstance against you.

Nigel.
Clouds thicken round me, but I'll clear them still.
Let but your smile, like a bright star, shine through,
To light my spirit. (to Margaret.)


Marg.
Could I smile—

Heriot.
Enough!
I'll to the King anon, and get you moved
Out of this custody.—For you my Lord,
Th'event must speak.

Nigel.
Meanwhile, then, my past life
Shall be my surety: for, in lib'ral judgments,
Good name is still the wearer's amulet
Against crude calumny; and with a sweet
And saving fragrance, like the balms o'th'East,
Wards the rank breath of malice. Sir, I follow.

[Margaret retires again into the recess:— Nigel goes out, preceded by Sir Geoffry, and followed by Guards and Heriot.