University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

An Apartment splendidly furnished, after the fashion of King James's time, representing a Saloon in Dalgarno's House.
Enter Skourlie, and Page yawning.
Skour.
What, boy, asleep?

Page.
My Lord Dalgarno leaves me
No rest, sir. I was up all night, i'th'city,
With music, under master Heriot's windows,
Piping at his niece, Marg'ret.

Skour.
Hum! I'll wait
His lordship's leisure.
[Exit Page.
What, Dalgarno's glance
Burns upon Marg'ret still? Why, I'm a gull
At fifty years of age, thus to affect
A chitty spinster—yet, does she inflame
My thoughts, almost to slight my kinder mistress,
The wealth I've woo'd and won, through good and ill.
Dalgarno's schemes have paid me passably,
But luck has made him rash, and frow'rd to deal with,
And it were wise to cut the knot that binds us,
Before I find a noose at t'other end.

Enter Dalgarno, with letters; he calls to the Page.
Dalg.
Some wax! Dear woman loves a correspondent:
To thrive with her a man must write his perj'ry,
And be a rogue on record. Honest Skourlie!
My ferret! mine edge-tool! my man of law!

Skour.
Your servant still.

Re-enter Page, with sealing wax and taper, which he places on the table, and exit.
Dalg.
My lord of Buckingham
Wants money. [sealing the letters.]


Skour.
Will you lend it?

Dalg.
Why, my purse
Is much extenuated. Luck has run
Against me with the dice. Then, my adventure
In last year's pirate-cruiser, proved a loss:
And inland, not a traveller of mark
Has, for these three months, plumped into the toil
Of our night-rangers: yet these gentry still
Eat at my charge. Well, desp'rate fortunes look
For desp'rate ventures.

Skour.
I'd have no such crew
Of broken gentlemen; they live too high,
And game too deep, to make the masque and pistol
Keep them respectably, and yield a profit.
Then if good luck does blow a windfall, comes
Some rogue or other, for a hushing bribe,
'Till I am almost drain'd to begg'ry.

Dalg.
Thou!
Thou'rt made of gold! thy very self an ingot,
As hard, as dull, as ductile, and as dingy.
Tush! never fear! wert thou tried, cast, condemned,
I could obtain thy pardon through the duke.
So, in a word, his Grace must have this money,
And thou must lend it.

Skour.
I, my Lord!

Dalg.
No doubt;
You shall have my security.

Skour.
My Lord,—

Dalg.
Good, round security. Have you forgot
The loan I made to Nigel in your name,
Taking a mortgage of his patrimony
Worth ten times what I lent? To-morrow ends
The term of payment; you foreclose: and I
Possess the land. Is that security?

Skour.
He yet may pay the mortgage.

Dalg.
I have lull'd
His diligence: fool'd him, with daily hopes
Of getting from the king some certain monies
He sues for at th'Exchequer; while the duke,
My right good friend, keeps back his poor petitions
From the king's sight and knowledge.

Peppercole (without.)
Pep.
Tell not me,
I have th'access.

Dalg.
'Tis Captain Peppercole.
As thou'rt my business, so is he my pleasure,
Fetches and carries like a dog: can bark
As loud, and take the lash as patiently:
And for a go-between, there's nothing serves
Like your coarse fellow, whom no husband frets at,
Nor jealous brother doubts.

Enter Peppercole: he is dressed in a thickset velvet jerkin, having a patch over one eye, and part of one cheek: buff gloves, with huge tops, almost to the elbows; and a large black-hilted back sword and dagger, in a very wide buff belt; he looks back angrily on his entrance, as chiding the servants who have delayed him.
Pep.
Distinguish, 'twixt
Vile dun, and graced Soldado!

Dalg.
(to Peppercole)
Here's employ
For thy exub'rant humour: see this letter
To Margaret Heriot's hands.

Pep.
She still avoids
All chance of interview.

Dalg.
As wild as birds
In a wet autumn!

Pep.
From her wench I gather
That my young madam's notion doth incline
To your companion—pish! the Scottish lordling,
Whose lodging is so deep a secret—

Dalg.
Nigel?

Pep.
'Tis he.

Dalg.
Why then my path lies clear! To-morrow,
At six o'clock, we have him! Mind, no grace,
(To Skourlie)
Not half an hour. If he pay not his mortgage,
Ev'n as the clock strikes, I enforce my forfeit,
And become master of his fate.

Re-enter Page.
Page.
My lord,
Your lordship's barber.

Pep.
Strappet! prince of praters!

Dalg.
Bully, beware of treas'nous words against
The barber! He's your master paramount!
He clips the proudest; makes the bravest bleed;
Comes, as the Gaul of old strode up the senate,
And plucks the grey patrician by the chin:
Nor death, nor mighty love, more universal:
For every throat he has his weapon bared,
And 'twixt his thumb and finger flits the breath
Of all men's nostrils: Scandalum of him
Must be a præmunire at the least.
Admit him.
[Exit Page.
(To Skourlie)
So, you'll see to Nigel.

Skour.
(significantly)
Nigel,
Or whomso else your Marg'ret may affect,
No means of mine shall be untried to crush.

Re-enter Page, ushering in Strappet, with a barber's basin under his arm, in one hand a dressing case, and in the other a note.
Strap.
Noon, my lord, past; please be adorn'd to-day?

Dalg.
(Sitting down).
What have you there?

Strap.
(Delivering the note).
Note, from Lord Nigel.

[Dalgarno reading the note, while Strappet trims him with scissars and curling irons.]
Dalg.
Call
At three—must wait at home until that hour
For Master Heriot—

Strap.
Aye, my dame was saying
The good man meant to call—pretty niece Marg'et
To fetch him thence, upon her new white poney,
Just for an airing—promised my good woman
To let us see the nag—A perfect pattern,
I'm told, that hobby.

Dalg.
Marg'ret call at Nigel's!
Now could one trace what nook he makes his lodging,
Hidden so charily from boon companions,
And yet so visited by bonny wenches,
One might give chase to this young mistress. Friend,
Know'st thou his lodging?

Strap.
Oh, undoubtedly:
It is my pride to be his body shaver.
Chin some what long: Takes me twelve seconds more
His chin, than any nobleman's whereof
I have the handling—Always grieve to find
Friend's faces long.

Dalg.
And where then is this lodging?

Strap.
Afraid I grazed—black patch will set all right:
The DUKE had one, but two day past, since which
Four yards three quarters of this black, believe me,
Have been cut up in patches for the courtiers.

(Puts on a Patch.)
Dalg.
And Nigel's lodging, fellow?

Strap.
Soft, my Lord,
You will get touched again.

Dalg.
And so shall you,
Unless—

Strap.
In truth, he little likes to have
His lodging known,—purse, possibly, but low,—
So, in your lordship's ear—I'm sure your lordship
Will not betray my information—then,
Between ourselves, he lodges—in my house.

Dalg.
What, somewhere by Paul's wharf?

Strap.
My noble lord,
Why not? looks airy out—ships all alive—
The courtiers to and fro upon the river,
Betwixt Whitehall and Greenwich, as the Court
Shifts:—Always see the courtiers with the tide,
Saving your lordship's presence.

Dalg.
Well, and which
Of all the crooked alleys, that compose
That wilderness of tenements, may be thine?

Strap.
Long pole, next the old Boar: no doubt; you know
The old Boar new revived—superb for spare-ribs—
Landlord at door, fat man, red doublet: worth
A thousand pound, they tell me,—pretty penny,
Those griskins:—better singeing of pig's faces,
Than beautifying courtiers'!—you'll excuse
My little joke, my lord.

Dalg.
You're the kind husband
Of pretty Bridget, then, whom we have heard of?

Strap.
Heard of, my lord?—How so, my lord?

Dalg.
O, nothing.
[Strappet pauses aghast.
Get on, sir—only when a lodger wins
The friendship of a buxom landlady—

Strap.
Surely Lord Nigel says not that?

Dalg.
Mere friendship—
Get on.

Strap.
You're almost finish'd—

Dalg.
Faith, well nigh:
Two minutes more would finish me outright.
Order the horses.

[Calling to the side scene.
Strap.
For my wife, (turning back a loose hair)
one touch
To bring that straggler in. (puts up his instruments.)


Pep.
(to Dalgarno, coming forward and shaking his head at Strappet,)
Had I not reason?

Dalg.
(to Pep.)
For once.

Pep.
(Advancing upon Strappet.)
Why, then, the curse of tongues be on thee;
Rust eat thy razors up—disuse resolve
The bristles of thy brushes—

Strap.
(to Dalgarno.)
Just a word—

Pep.
(walking Strappet backward to the side scene.)
The edge forsake thy polished steel—

Strap.
Like fortune
Wait on thy vulgar brass!

Pep.
(pushing him off.)
Moths gorge thy napkins,
And splitting tooth-aches waste thy case of combs!

[Exit Strappet.
Dalg.
At last, she takes the air, this pouting Marg'ret!
My boots, boy: come, now, if I do but find
Her pretty face where this old babbler points me,
[Page brings boots, which Dalgarno puts on.
It shall go hard, but I will part my damsel
From her dull uncle. You, smooth-faced iniquity, to Skourlie)

And copper bully, (to Peppercole)
westward-hoe: wait for me
At the Park-gate, by Charing.—Our fair citizens,
When they go ambling, much affect the Park—
And look you've there some sturdy swagg'rer, strong
I' the arm, and not too weak i'th'conscience, with
My page and horses—
[Going and looking behind to Peppercole, who is following him.]
And, dost hear, a pillion
To suit a dainty dame.

Exit, followed by Peppercole and Page.
Skour.
(alone)
Yes, I'll be there,
To balk that prank, I ween. And if I do,
Why not step in at once, with honest offers,
And foil my rakish lord? True, my first youth
Is gone; but I have better metal, wealth,
To make the charge withal; and woman's heart
Is seldom mailed in such high temper'd stuff,
As to be gold proof. Courage; we will try her!

[Exit.

SCENE II.

The King's closet in Whitehall Palace, hung with pictures: the appointments and furniture costly, but disordered. On a table a high-crowned grey hat, encircled by a carkanet of large rubies.
King James and Heriot are discovered. The King's doublet is of quilted green velvet, giving a protuberant appearance to his figure; with a sad coloured night-gown, from the pocket of which peeps a hunting horn; on his head is a blue-velvet night-cap with a heron plume in front. Heriot is habited richly, though gravely, in a cloak of black velvet, and hose of the same, slashed with purple silk; a doublet or purple cloth with numerous buttons of silver fillagree; a flat cap in his hand, a triple gold chain round his neck, and a silver writing case in his belt. They come forward.
James.
Alack, I doubt, friend Heriot, the whole wisdom
Of Scotland left it, when we took our travels
Southward.

Her.
The wise, an't please your majesty,
Follow the wisest, ev'n as stags their leader.

James.
Aye, but the fools come too. No further back
Than yester-noon, an Edinburgh beggar,
Each dud upon whose back was taking leave
Of its next neighbour, splash'd before our horse,
And thrust a smear'd petition in our hand
About our mother's debts, and sic-like trash.
Whereat, our beast uprear'd, and, had we not
Such seat as few, or kings, or subjects, have,
We'd laid our gracious length upon the causeway.
Oh, there is not a loon among 'em kens
How a petition should be brought before
The face of majesty!

Her.
Then, would I knew it,
Were't but to teach my unbred countrymen.

James.
Now, troth, but ye're a civilized fellow, Geordie,
And I'll bestow the lesson on you. First,
Ye must approach the regal presence, thus,
Shad'wing your forehead with your hand. (Heriot does so.)
That's well,
That's in a comely manner. Kneel, sir, next,
As ye would kiss our garment's hem, or shoe-latch.
(Heriot does so.)
Now, (very well enacted,) we prevent
This motion, signing you to rise; but you,
Having a boon to beg, obey not yet,
But, gliding thus your hand into your pouch,
Bring forth your scroll, and place it rev'rently
In our stretch'd hand.

Her.
(Putting a roll of paper into James's hands.)
So, by your grace's goodness—

James.
(startled)
What! have we taught the manual exercise
To you, that you should thus present your piece
At our own sacred body!

Her.
My presumption,
Which yet I trust your princely clemency
Will deign to pardon, is not for myself.

James.
(Raising him.)
The worse: I wish it were: I would be glad
To do thee kindness, Geordie: thou hast served
Our need more times than once, mine honest goldsmith.
(Opening the scroll).
But how? a dun? Why aye, 'tis true enough,
We owed some siller to Lord Nigel's father;
But we are not absconding! What hath prick'd
Nigel to dun us for't?

Her.
Alas! his want, sir,
And not his will. Unless, ere night to-morrow,
He raise six thousand pieces, all his lands,
Mortgaged for that amount, but ten times worth
So poor a sum, will pass for ever from him
Into the lender's grasp.

James.
It must not be!
Our old friend's son, a peer, thrust from his heritage
By a base money'd carle! A gracious youth too;
Bows well; hath parts and lore: Cannot you raise
The siller, George?

Her.
Had not mistaken shame
Withheld Lord Nigel from disclosing to me
The strait he labours in, until this morning,
I might have help'd him; but the sum I gather'd
Yesterday, for your grace's privy purse,
Has drain'd, not simply all my gold, but ev'n
My ready means of borrowing.

James.
Now ye think
Our purse is full. Ye're wrong: on a king's word
All's gone, paid out, to th'last: It were as hopeful
To ask the breeks of a wild Highlandman.
Your credit strain'd too?

Her.
Aye, sir.

James.
Here, old Levite, (Taking the rubies from his hat)

Raise him the gold on these. You've got them pledged
For larger sums ere now: we will redeem them
From the next subsidy. Oons, no more kneeling!
Your plaguy genuflexions have already
Cost us six thousand—if you should kneel down
A second time, we're bankrupt.

Her.
In the name, then,
Of my Lord Nigel—

James.
Name of nonsense, man,
Get thee away, and do it.
(Calling for his Pages at the side scene.)
To the gate there,
Knaves! keep a London goldsmith waiting, while
Boys truss their points! he'll stir you!—So—
Pages hurry across the stage, showing out Heriot, who bows and exit.
Aye, jingler—
Aye, canny gold and silver! that's the kind
Makes way with those that keep the doors of kings!

[Exit.

SCENE III.

Nigel's lodging. In the back scene, a wide window, like that of a cabin, shewing the river and ships. An old fashioned staircase descending into the room, down the steps of which, enter Nigel habited in a lavender coloured dress, with plaid scarf. A boy is bringing in a table with a cloth, cold meat, &c.
Nigel.
Nothing from Lord Dalgarno? this suspense
Is worse than tedious. Did you give John Strappet
My note for him? (Sits down at the table.)


Boy.
My lord, I did.

Nigel.
Well then,
I shall not want you yet.
[Exit Boy.
Enter Bridget dressed in a tight, well laced boddice, a short red petticoat, with a slight edging of silver lace, and brightly blacked shoes, with buckles. She brings in a hand-box.
My gracious hostess,
What cumbers you?

Bridg.
The dress I've been to fetch
For you, my lord; what you're to wear to-morrow
I'th'masque the Duke of Buckingham's to give.

Nigel.
Oh, thank ye.

Bridg.
I should like to see it; (puts the box down and unties the cord round it.)
Sha'n't I
Just spread it out? 'twould do these trifles good
(A knock is heard at the street door.)
If they were air'd.

Nigel.
(rising to receive Heriot.)
No matter for the present.

Enter Heriot, whom Nigel takes by the hand.
Heriot.
(After taking off his cap, and respectfully acknowledging the salutation of Nigel.)
I fancy, dame, my lord can spare you, now.

Bridg.
(Retiring with spleen, from the band-box.)
Spare! that's a mighty fav'rite word i'th'city!

[Exit.
Nigel.
No help, I fear, good friend, with that hard loan
My lands are pledged for.

Her.
But I hear the lender
Is your sworn friend.

Nigel.
Skourlie, the scriv'ner sworn
My friend! 'twas he, that lent it.

Her.
You're deceiv'd:
He's but the nominal and formal party:
The lender,—start not,—is my Lord Dalgarno.

Nigel.
Impossible: 'tis he that undertakes
T'enforce my claim upon the king, for payment
Of debts which would redeem the land.

Her.
And therefore
Your claim is not enforced. He hungers too
After those forfeitures of your late kinsman
I'th'north, whereof you have besought the king
To make release to you.

Nigel.
A nobleman,
So frank and gay,—so base! I'll not believe it.

Her.
I've certain cause to know,—for I have channels
Of knowledge at the Court,—that Lord Dalgarno
Already has possessed the Duke of Buckingham,
To your disparagement.

Nigel.
I'll give him thanks for 't.

Her.
We of the city seldom speak on hearsay;
But I much doubt him in yet blacker dealings.
Justice of late hath slung her sword so loose,
That felony scarce slurs a ruffling gallant:
One coronet, or two, have fused their gold
Into the pirates' fierce copartnery:
Nay, and ev'n inland, some, not low-born, ride
At night, with knife, lanthorn, and cloak, wherever
A fat pouch tempts the hazard.

Nigel.
Faith, the pardon
To Overbury's titled murderers,
Th'impunity wherewith, in Paul's church aisle,
Ruffians by trade ply, through broad day, for custom,
These are examples to relax opinion,
And lend brute force a warrant.

Her.
Hence, our courtiers
Laugh at such things for frolics. Pardon me,
If I beseech you that you be more wary,
Henceforth, of your allies. This time, I trust,
Your false friend's policy is foil'd; for see
What the king's justice sends.

(Produces the rubies from a casket.)
Nigel.
How! the crown jewels!

Her.
To raise upon them what may pay the debt
He owed your father, and redeem your lands.

Nigel.
My noble master! aye, and let me say
My gen'rous friend! Go with me to the close
Of this kind work, and help me to some agent
Who shall procure the loan.

Her.
Command my service.
'Twill lead you to foul quarters: to Whitefriars,
The den of thieves, and of the usurer, Trapbois;
But the king's drafts have drain'd my better channels:
The time is short; and, at whatever price,
The full six thousand must be had to-morrow.

Nigel.
(Inclining his head to Heriot, and then calling at the side scene.)
My cap and cloak! No page there? (To Heriot.)
Oh, I left
The cloak above.

Nigel goes up the staircase.
Her.
I will but send away
My niece, who waits for me upon her palfrey,
Yonder.

Nigel.
(As he ascends the staircase.)
I'm loath to part your company.

Her.
To-morrow will serve me: she shall go on
As she was promised, to the Park: our men
Will see her safe.

Nigel disappears at the head of the stairs, and Heriot is going off at the side scene: enter Bridget meeting him.
Bridg.
What did your lordship call for?

Her.
Where is his boy?

Bridg.
I know not: loit'ring somewhere.

Her.
That's pity! 'Twere more seemly that his servant
Wait on his call, than that his hostess come
So often to his chamber.

[Exit.
Bridg.
Well, I'm sure!
Who should have thought of that? Keep your advice
For your own folk, old tinsmith! I've a husband
To lecture me, as wise, and very near
As old, as you are; and that's quite enough
For one young woman. (Her eye glances on the box.)
Were not this the time
To get my little peep? (Walks round the box: then takes out a domino, and a hat with a feather.)

How very pretty!
I've a month's mind to try how I should suit
This kind of rattletrap. (Puts on the hat: the plumes flap in her face.)
Feathers enough!
But, as for this, (putting on the domino,)
I can't make out the sleeve.
Oh! now its right!

During the latter part of this soliloquy, Nigel has descended the staircase, with his cap and cloak; and, coming on tiptoe down the stage, has been trying to get a side view of Bridget's face, which, however, fronting the audience, has throughout been averted from him.
Nigel.
What lovely visitor
Does me this honour?

Bridg.
(Not perceiving him, and still occupied in arranging the dress)
If there was a glass,
That one might know what's the effect of it!

Nigel.
(Coming close behind, and recognizing her)
Very becoming, dame, upon my word.

Bridg.
(Screaming, and starting back, so as to fall into his open arms.)
Mercy upon me, how you made me jump!
Dear heart! I thought your lordship had been out.

During this alarm of Bridget, Strappet has entered, ushering in Heriot.
Strap.
Did you think I was out, too?

Bridg.
(Laughing.)
You're out, now!

Her.
My lord, I fear we come inopportunely.

Nigel.
Appearances are awkward; but you'll find
All simple.

Bridg.
Very.

Strap.
No, not all: you'll not
Find me so simple.

Nigel.
I was wrong, I own,
In peeping at a lady's toilet; but
She look'd so well (to Strappet)
—nay, now, I beg your pardon—
Good host, you won't be angry with poor Bridget
For looking well,—she can't help that, you know.

[Exit Nigel, taking Heriot by the arm.
Strap.
Just in the nick, I fancy.

Bridg.
Now you think
You have been near to have an honour done you,
Which was not dreamt of.

Strap.
Not so sure of that,
It jumps with what I've heard; for let me tell you,
Mistress, your name is rife with rakish lords,
That talk of pretty faces.

Bridg.
And what then?
Worse faces have been spoken of, I trow,
Than mine; nor will I hide it, good man, simply
Because you're old and jealous.—I say, John,
Who was it told you of my pretty face?

Strap.
Such as could little judge, be sure of that.
Come, graceless madam, find some other haunt
Than this apartment.

Bridg.
Well, don't madam me!
I've done no harm.

Strap.
That's as may be: it looks
Cursedly like it.

Bridg.
What, you dont believe me?
Let my lord witness whether—

Strap.
A fine witness!
I fancy, when a husband is abroad,
The key's the only witness he should trust.
[Holding up the key.
Out of this room, I say!

Bridg.
Well, an't I coming?
Here's comfort for a woman! (Pointing to Strappet)
O you brute,
What have you ever done that could deserve
A wife like me?

Strap.
Ah, what, indeed?

Bridg.
But, sirrah!
There will be ways to pay you off; and if
I dont, and soon, saving my own good credit,
Say there's no spirit in woman.
[He approaches her, she screams.
Gah! dont lay
Your ord'n'ry paws on me!

[Exit.
Strap.
Bubble and squeak!
Here's a brave tack forsooth! Spirit! Why, gemini,
To hear her squall, you'd think 'twas she had caught
Me in the arms of frailty. Spirit, indeed!
Good husband, if you'd scape unscratch'd, you'd better
Ev'n stray yourself, than find a fair wife straying:
The more her fault, more your offence to spy it:
No matter, though you saw with your own eyes,
She's wrong'd and you're a brute; whiz comes the storm,—
Rain, light'ning, thunder, bounce, blaze, pelt, slap, rattle—
And that is what the soft sex call,—a spirit!

[Exit.