A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Ix Part 98

_Enter_ FALCONBRIDGE.

LORD. Now, death of me, shall I be cross'd By such a jack? he wed himself, and where he list: Sirrah malapert, I'll hamper you, You that will have your will, come, get you in: I'll make thee shape thy thoughts to marry her, Or wish thy birth had been thy murderer.

SCAR. Fate, pity me, because I am enforc'd: For I have heard those matches have cost blood, Where love is once begun, and then withstood.

[_Exeunt_.

ACT II.

_Enter_ ILFORD, _and a_ PAGE _with him_.

ILF. Boy, hast thou delivered my letter?

BOY. Ay, sir, I saw him open the lips on't.

ILF. He had not a new suit on, had he?

BOY. I am not so well acquainted with his wardrobe, sir; but I saw a lean fellow, with sunk eyes and shamble legs, sigh pitifully at his chamber door, and entreat his man to put his master in mind of him.

ILF. O, that was his tailor. I see now he will be blessed, he profits by my counsel: he will pay no debts, before he be arrested--nor then neither, if he can find e'er a beast that dare but be bail for him; but he will seal[359] i' th' afternoon?

BOY. Yes, sir, he will imprint for you as deep as he can.

ILF. Good, good, now have I a parson's nose, and smell t.i.the coming in then. Now let me number how many rooks I have half-undone already this term by the first return: four by dice, six by being bound with me, and ten by queans: of which some be courtiers, some country gentlemen, and some citizens' sons. Thou art a good Frank; if thou purgest[360] thus, thou art still a companion for gallants, may'st keep a catamite, take physic at the spring and the fall.

_Enter_ WENTLOE.

WEN. Frank, news that will make thee fat, Frank.

ILF. Prythee, rather give me somewhat will keep me lean; I have no mind yet to take physic.

WEN. Master Scarborow is married, man.

ILF. Then heaven grant he may (as few married men do) make much of his wife.

WEN. Why? wouldst have him love her, let her command all, and make her his master?

ILF. No, no; they that do so, make not much of their wives, but give them their will, and its the marring of them.

_Enter_ BARTLEY.

BAR. Honest Frank, valorous Frank, a portion of thy wit, but to help us in this enterprise, and we may walk London streets, and cry _pish_ at the serjeants.

ILF. You may s.h.i.+ft out one term, and yet die in the Counter. These are the scabs now that hang upon honest Job. I am Job, and these are the scurvy scabs [_aside_]; but what's this your pot seethes over withal?

BAR. Master Scarborough is married, man.

WEN. He has all his land in his own hand.

BAR. His brother's and sister's portions.

WEN. Besides four thousand pounds in ready money with his wife.

ILF. A good talent,[361] by my faith; it might help many gentlemen to pay their tailors, and I might be one of them.

WEN. Nay, honest Frank, hast thou found a trick for him? if thou hast not, look, here's a line to direct thee. First draw him into bands[362]

for money, then to dice for it; then take up stuff at the mercer's; straight to a punk with it; then mortgage his land, and be drunk with that; so with them and the rest, from an ancient gentleman make him a young beggar.

ILF. What a rogue this is, to read a lecture to me--and mine own lesson too, which he knows I have made perfect to nine hundred fourscore and nineteen! A cheating rascal! will teach me!--I, that have made them, that have worn a s.p.a.cious park, lodge, and all on their backs[363] this morning, been fain to p.a.w.n it afore night! And they that have stalked like a huge elephant, with a castle on their necks, and removed that to their own shoulders in one day, which their fathers built up in seven years--been glad by my means, in so much time as a child sucks, to drink bottle-ale, though a punk pay for't. And shall this parrot instruct me?

WEN. Nay, but, Frank--

ILF. A rogue that hath fed upon me and the fruit of my wit, like pullen[364] from a pantler's chippings, and now I have put him into good clothes to s.h.i.+ft two suits in a day, that could scarce s.h.i.+ft a patched s.h.i.+rt once in a year, and say his prayers when he had it--hark, how he prates!

WEN. Besides, Frank, since his marriage, he stalks me like a cas.h.i.+ered captain discontent; in, which melancholy the least drop of mirth, of which thou hast an ocean, will make him and all his ours for ever.

ILF. Says mine own rogue so? Give me thy hand then; we'll do't, and there's earnest. [_Strikes him_.] 'Sfoot, you chittiface, that looks worse than a collier through a wooden window, an ape afraid of a whip, or a knave's head, shook seven years in the weather upon London Bridge[365]--do you catechise me?

WEN. Nay, but valorous Frank, he that knows the secrets of all hearts knows I did it in kindness.

ILF. Know your seasons: besides, I am not of that species for you to instruct. Then know your seasons.

BAR. 'Sfoot, friends, friends, all friends; here comes young Scarborow.

Should he know of this, all our designs were prevented.

_Enter_ SCARBOROW.

ILF. What! melancholy, my young master, my young married man? G.o.d give your wors.h.i.+p joy.

SCAR. Joy of what, Frank?

ILF. Of thy wealth, for I hear of few that have joy of their wives.

SCAR. Who weds as I have to enforced sheets, His care increaseth, but his comfort fleets.

ILF. Thou having so much wit, what a devil meant'st thou to marry?

SCAR. O, speak not of it, Marriage sounds in mine ear like a bell, Not rung for pleasure, but a doleful knell.

ILF. A common course: those men that are married in the morning to wish themselves buried ere night.

SCAR. I cannot love her.

ILF. No news neither. Wives know that's a general fault amongst their husbands.