Sir GILES OVERREACH, a cruel Extortioner. ALLWORTH, a young Gentleman, Page to Lord LOVELL. GREEDY, a hungry Justice of Peace. WELLDO, a Parson. TAPWELL, an Alehouse-keeper. WOMEN. Lady ALLWORTH, a rich Widow. MARRALL, a Term-driver, a Creature of Sir FROTH, Tapwell's Wife. GILES OVERREACH. Chambermaid. SCENE, A County in England. ACT I. SCENE I.-The Outside of a Village Alehouse. WELLBORN, TAPWELL, FROTH. Well. No bouse? nor no tobacco? Not the remainder of a single can, Left by a drunken porter; all night palled, too. Froth. Not the dropping of the tap for your morning's draught, sir: 'Tis verity, I assure you. Well. Verity, you brach! structed, There dwells, and within call, if it please your worship, The devil turned precisian! Rogue, what am I? A potent monarch called a constable, That does command a citadel, called the stocks; Well. Rascal! slave! Froth. No rage, sir. Tap. At his own peril! Do not put yourself In too much heat, there being no water near To quench your thirst; and sure, for other liquor, As mighty ale, or beer, they are things, I take it, You must no more remember; not in a dream, sir. Well. Why, thou, unthankful villain, dar'st thou talk thus? Is not thy house, and all thou hast, my gift? Tap. I find it not in chalk; and Timothy Tapwell Does keep no other register. Well, Am not I he Allw. Hold, for my sake, hold! Deny me, Frank? they are not worth your anger. this sceptre: Well. For once thou hast redeemed them from [Shaking his cudgel. But let them vanish, creeping on their knees; And if they grumble, I rèvoke my pardon. Froth. This comes of your prating, husband; you presumed On your ambling wit, and must use your glib tongue, Though you are beaten lame for❜t. [They go off on their hands and knees. Well. Sent to your mother? Allw. My lady, Frank, my patroness! my all! She's such a mourner for my father's death, And, in her love to him, so favours me, That I cannot pay too much observance to her. Yet she's so far from sullenness and pride, While I give you good counsel. I am bound to it. *Thy father was my friend; and that affection Allw. I thank your noble care; but, pray you, in what Do I run the hazard? Well. Art thou not in love? Put it not off with wonder. Allw. In love, at my years? Well. You think you walk in clouds, but are transparent. I have heard all, and the choice that you have made; And, with my finger, can point out the north star Of cormorant Overreach? Dost blush and start, Allw. You are too bitter, sir. Well. Wounds of this nature are not to be cured. With balms, but corrosives. I must be plain : Art thou scarce manumized from the porter's lodge, And yet sworn servant to the pantoffle, And dar'st thou dream of marriage? True; I must tell you as a friend, and freely, Canst thou imagine (let not self-love blind thee) Will e'er consent to make her thine? Give o'er, And think of some course suitable to thy rank, And prosper in it. Allw. You have well advised me; But, in the mean time, you, that are so studious Of my affairs, wholly neglect your own. Remember yourself, and in what plight you are, Well. No matter, no matter, Allw. Yes, 'tis much material: You know my fortune, and my means; yet something I can spare from myself, to help your wants. Alle. Nay, be not angry. There's eight pieces," To put you in better fashion. Well. Money from thee? From a boy, a stipendiary? one that lives And the uncertain favour of a lord? Allw. A strange humour! [Exeunt severally. SCENE II.-A Chamber in Lady ALLWORTH'S House. Enter ORDER, Amble, Furnace, and WATCH But will you never taste but spoonmeat more? Furn. I am friends with thee, and yet I will To what use serve 1? be angry. Order. With whom? Lady. Prithee be not angry; I shall ere long; in the mean time there is gold Furn. No matter whom : yet, now I think on't, To buy thee aprons and a summer suit. I am angry with my lady. Watch. Heaven forbid, man! Order. What cause has she given thee? I was entertained by her to please her palate, viands, She keeps her chamber, dines with a panada, Order. But your art is seen in the dining room. By such as pretend love to her; but come Order. Justice Greedy? Furn. The same, the same. Meat's cast away It never thrives. He holds this paradox, Amble. One knocks. [ALLWORTH knocks, and enters. Order. Our late young master. Furn. Your hand: Furn. I am appeased, and Furnace now grows cool. Lady. And, as I gave directions, if this morning Order. I shall, madam. Lady. Do, and leave me. [Exeunt ORDER, AMBLE, FURNACE, &c. Nay, stay you, Allworth. Allw. I shall gladly grow here, To wait on your commands. Allw. Style not that courtship, madam, which Purchased on your part. Lady. Well, you shall o'ercome; I'll not contend in words. How is it with Allw. Ever like himself; No scruple lessened in the full weight of ho nour: He did command me (pardon my presumption), Lady I am honoured in His favour to me. Does he hold his purpose Allw. Constantly, good madam: But he will, in person, first present his service. you are yet, Like virgin parchment, capable of any I will not force your will, but leave you free Allw. Any form you please I will put on: but, might I make my choice, Lady. 'Tis well answered, And I commend your spirit: you had a father, If you have a stomach, a cold bake-meat's ready. With such respect as if he lived in me. Order. His father's picture in little. Furn. We are all your servants. He was my husband; and howe'er you are no Provided you deserve it. Alla. I have found you, Most honoured madam, the best mother to me; These were your father's words: If e'er my son Allw. There's no syllable You speak, but is to me an oracle; Beware ill company; for often men Are like to those with whom they do converse: And from one man I warn you, and that's Wellborn: Not 'cause he's poor; that rather claims your Of beef well seasoned. Furn. A pheasant, larded. Greedy. That I might now give thanks for❜t! Furn. Other kick-shaws; Besides, there came last night, from the forest of The fattest stag I ever cooked. Furn. A stag, sir; part of it prepared for dinner, And baked in puff-paste. Greedy. Puff-paste, too, Sir Giles! A ponderous chine of beef! a pheasant larded! And red deer, too, Sir Giles, and baked in puff paste! All business set aside, let us give thanks here. Furn. How the lean skeleton's rapt! Over. You know we cannot. Mar. Your worships are to sit on a commission, And if you fail to come, you lose the cause. Greedy. Cause me no causes; I'll prove 't, for such a dinner, We may put off a commission; you shall find it Henrici decimo quarto, Over. Fie, Master Greedy! Will you lose me a thousand pounds for a din ner? |