Geo. Anon, sir.
Luc. List hither: [whispers] keep the place secret: commend me to my nephew; I know no cause, tell him, but he might see his uncle.
Geo. I will, sir.
Luc. And, do you hear, sir? Take heed you use him with respect and duty.
Geo. Here’s a strange alteration; one day he must be turned out like a beggar, and now he must be called in like a knight. [Aside, and exit.
Luc. Ah, sirrah, that rich widow!—four hundred a-year! beside, I hear she lays claim to a title of a hundred more. This falls unhappily that he should bear a grudge to me now, being likely to prove so rich: what is’t, trow,[42] that he makes me a stranger for? Hum,—I hope he has not so much wit to apprehend that I cozened him: he deceives me then. Good heaven, who would have thought it would ever have come to this pass! yet he’s a proper gentleman, i’faith, give him his due, marry, that’s his mortgage; but that I ne’er mean to give him: I’ll make him rich enough in words, if that be good; and if it come to a piece of money, I will not greatly stick for’t; there may be hope some of the widow’s lands, too, may one day fall upon me, if things be carried wisely.
Now, sir, where is he?
Geo. He desires your worship to hold him excused; he has such weighty business, it commands him wholly from all men.
Luc. Were those my nephew’s words?
Geo. Yes, indeed, sir.
Luc. When men grow rich, they grow proud too, I perceive that; he would not have sent me such an answer once within this twelvemonth: see what ’tis when a man’s come to his lands! [Aside.]—Return to him again, sir; tell him his uncle desires his company for an hour; I’ll trouble him but an hour, say; ’tis for his own good, tell him: and, do you hear, sir? put worship upon him: go to, do as I bid you; he’s like to be a gentleman of worship very shortly.
Geo. This is good sport, i’faith. [Aside, and exit.
Luc. Troth, he uses his uncle discourteously now: can he tell what I may do for him? goodness may come from me in a minute, that comes not in seven year again: he knows my humour; I am not so usually good; ’tis no small thing that draws kindness from me, he may know that and[43] he will. The chief cause that invites me to do him most good, is the sudden astonishing of old Hoard, my adversary: how pale his malice will look at my nephew’s advancement! with what a dejected spirit he will behold his fortunes, whom but last day he proclaimed rioter, penurious makeshift, despised brothel-master![44] Ha, ha! ’twill do me more secret joy than my last purchase, more precious comfort than all these widow’s revenues.
Now, sir?
Geo. With much entreaty he’s at length come, sir.
Luc. O, nephew, let me salute you, sir! you’re welcome, nephew.
Wit. Uncle, I thank you.
Wit. Will you but hear what I can say in my just excuse, sir?
Luc. Yes, faith, will I, and welcome.
Wit. You that know my danger i’ th’ city, sir, so well, how great my debts are, and how extreme my creditors, could not out of your pure judgment, sir, have wished us hither.
Luc. Mass, a firm reason indeed.
Wit. Else, my uncle’s house! why, ’t had been the only make-match.
Luc. Nay, and thy credit.
Wit. My credit? nay, my countenance: push,[47] nay, I know, uncle, you would have wrought it so by your wit, you would have made her believe in time the whole house had been mine.
Luc. Ay, and most of the goods too.
Wit. La, you there! well, let ’em all prate what they will, there’s nothing like the bringing of a widow to one’s uncle’s house.
Luc. Nay, let nephews be ruled as they list, they shall find their uncle’s house the most natural place when all’s done.
Wit. There they may be bold.
Luc. Life, they may do any thing there, man, and fear neither beadle nor somner:[48] an uncle’s house! a very Cole-Harbour.[49] Sirrah, I’ll touch thee near now: hast thou so much interest in thy widow, that by a token thou couldst presently send for her?
Wit. Troth, I think I can, uncle.
Luc. Go to, let me see that.
Wit. Pray, command one of your men hither, uncle.
Luc. George!
Geo. Here, sir.
Luc. Attend my nephew. [Witgood whispers to George, who then goes out.]—I love a’ life[50] to prattle with a rich widow; ’tis pretty, methinks, when our tongues go together: and then to promise much and perform little; I love that sport a’ life, i’faith: yet I am in the mood now to do my nephew some good, if he take me handsomely. [Aside.]—What, have you despatched?
Wit. I ha’ sent, sir.
Luc. Yet I must condemn you of unkindness, nephew.
Wit. Heaven forbid, uncle!
Luc. Yes, faith, must I. Say your debts be many, your creditors importunate, yet the kindness of a thing is all, nephew: you might have sent me close word on’t, without the least danger or prejudice to your fortunes.
Wit. Troth, I confess it, uncle; I was to blame there; but, indeed, my intent was to have clapped it up suddenly, and so have broke forth like a joy to my friends, and a wonder to the world: beside, there’s a trifle of a forty pound matter toward the setting of me forth; my friends should ne’er have known on’t; I meant to make shift for that myself.
Luc. How, nephew? let me not hear such a word again, I beseech you: shall I be beholding[51] to you?
Wit. To me? Alas, what do you mean, uncle?
Luc. I charge you, upon my love, you trouble nobody but myself.
Wit. You’ve no reason for that, uncle.
Luc. Troth, I’ll ne’er be friends with you while you live, and[52] you do.
Wit. Nay, and you say so, uncle, here’s my hand; I will not do’t.
Luc. Why, well said! there’s some hope in thee when thou wilt be ruled; I’ll make it up fifty, faith, because I see thee so reclaimed. Peace; here comes my wife with Sam, her t’other husband’s son.
Wit. Good aunt.
Free. Cousin Witgood, I rejoice in my salute; you’re most welcome to this noble city, governed with the sword in the scabbard.
Wit. And the wit in the pommel. [Aside.]—Good master Sam Freedom, I return the salute.
Luc. By the mass, she’s coming, wife; let me see now how thou wilt entertain her.
Mis. L. I hope I am not to learn, sir, to entertain a widow; ’tis not so long ago since I was one myself.
Wit. Uncle——
Luc. She’s come indeed.
Wit. My uncle was desirous to see you, widow, and I presumed to invite you.
Court. The presumption was nothing, master Witgood: is this your uncle, sir?
Luc. Marry am I, sweet widow; and his good uncle he shall find me; ay, by this smack that I give thee [kisses her], thou’rt welcome.—Wife, bid the widow welcome the same way again,
Free. I am a gentleman now too by my father’s occupation, and I see no reason but I may kiss a widow by my father’s copy: truly, I think the charter is not against it; surely these are the words, The son once a gentleman may revel it, though his father were a dauber; ’tis about the fifteenth page: I’ll to her.
Luc. You’re not very busy now; a word with thee, sweet widow.
Free. Coads-nigs! I was never so disgraced since the hour my mother whipt me.
Luc. Beside, I have no child of mine own to care for; she’s my second wife, old, past bearing: clap sure to him, widow; he’s like to be my heir, I can tell you.
Court. Is he so, sir?
Luc. He knows it already, and the knave’s proud on’t: jolly rich widows have been offered him here i’ th’ city, great merchants’ wives; and do you think he would once look upon ’em? forsooth, he’ll none: you are beholding[53] to him i’ th’ country, then, ere we could be: nay, I’ll hold a wager, widow, if he were once known to be in town, he would be presently sought after; nay, and happy were they that could catch him first.
Court. I think so.
Luc. O, there would be such running to and fro, widow! he should not pass the streets for ’em: he’d be took up in one great house or other presently: faugh! they know he has it, and must have it. You see this house here, widow; this house and all comes to him; goodly rooms, ready furnished, ceiled with plaster of Paris, and all hung about[54] with cloth of arras.—Nephew.
Wit. Sir.
Luc. Shew the widow your house; carry her into all the rooms, and bid her welcome.—You shall see, widow.—Nephew, strike all sure above and[55] thou beest a good boy,—ah! [Aside to Witgood.
Wit. Alas, sir, I know not how she would take it!
Luc. The right way, I warrant t’ye: a pox, art an ass? would I were in thy stead! get you up, I am ashamed of you. [Exeunt Witgood and Courtesan]. So: let ’em agree as they will now: many a match has been struck up in my house a’ this fashion: let ’em try all manner of ways, still there’s nothing like an uncle’s house to strike the stroke in. I’ll hold my wife in talk a little.—Now, Jenny, your son there goes a-wooing to a poor gentlewoman but of a thousand [pound] portion: see my nephew, a lad of less hope, strikes at four hundred a-year in good rubbish.
Mis. L. Well, we must do as we may, sir.
Luc. I’ll have his money ready told for him again[56] he come down: let me see, too;—by th’ mass, I must present the widow with some jewel, a good piece of[57] plate, or such a device; ’twill hearten her on well: I have a very fair standing cup; and a good high standing cup will please a widow above all other pieces. [Exit.
Mis. L. Do you mock us with your nephew?—I have a plot in my head, son;—i’faith, husband, to cross you.
Free. Is it a tragedy plot, or a comedy plot, good mother?
Mis. L. ’Tis a plot shall vex him. I charge you, of my blessing, son Sam, that you presently withdraw the action of your love from master Hoard’s niece.
Free. How, mother?
Mis. L. Nay, I have a plot in my head, i’faith. Here, take this chain of gold, and this fair diamond: dog me the widow home to her lodging, and at thy best opportunity fasten ’em both upon her. Nay, I have a reach: I can tell you thou art known what thou art, son, among the right worshipful, all the twelve companies.
Free. Truly, I thank ’em for it.
Mis. L. He? he’s a scab to thee: and so certify her thou hast two hundred a-year of thyself, beside thy good parts—a proper person and a lovely. If I were a widow, I could find in my heart to have thee myself, son; ay, from ’em all.
Free. Thank you for your good will, mother; but, indeed, I had rather have a stranger: and if I woo her not in that violent fashion, that I will make her be glad to take these gifts ere I leave her, let me never be called the heir of your body.
Mis. L. Nay, I know there’s enough in you, son, if you once come to put it forth.
Free. I’ll quickly make a bolt or a shaft on’t.[58]
SCENE II.
Mon. Faith, master Hoard, I have bestowed many months in the suit of your niece, such was the dear love I ever bore to her virtues: but since she hath so extremely denied me, I am to lay out for my fortunes elsewhere.
Hoa. Heaven forbid but you should, sir! I ever told you my niece stood otherwise affected.
Mon. I must confess you did, sir; yet, in regard of my great loss of time, and the zeal with which I sought your niece, shall I desire one favour of your worship?
Hoa. In regard of those two, ’tis hard but you shall, sir.
Mon. I shall rest grateful: ’tis not full three hours, sir, since the happy rumour of a rich country widow came to my hearing.
Hoa. How? a rich country widow?
Mon. Four hundred a-year landed.
Hoa. Yea?
Mon. Most firm, sir; and I have learnt her lodging: here my suit begins, sir; if I might but entreat your worship to be a countenance for me, and speak a good word (for your words will pass), I nothing doubt but I might set fair for the widow; nor shall your labour, sir, end altogether in thanks; two hundred angels[59]——
Hoa. So, so: what suitors has she?
Mon. There lies the comfort, sir; the report of her is yet but a whisper; and only solicited by young riotous Witgood, nephew to your mortal adversary.
Hoa. Ha! art certain he’s her suitor?
Mon. Most certain, sir; and his uncle very industrious to beguile the widow, and make up the match.
Hoa. So: very good.
Mon. Now, sir, you know this young Witgood is a spendthrift, dissolute fellow.
Hoa. A very rascal.
Mon. A midnight surfeiter.
Hoa. The spume of a brothel-house.
Mon. True, sir: which being well told in your worship’s phrase, may both heave him out of her mind, and drive a fair way for me to the widow’s affections.
Hoa. Attend me about five.
Mon. With my best care, sir. [Exit.
Happy revenge, I hug thee! I have not only the means laid before me, extremely to cross my adversary, and confound the last hopes of his nephew, but thereby to enrich my state, augment my revenues, and build mine own fortunes greater: ha, ha!
First C. I am glad of this news.
Sec. C. So are we, by my faith.
Third C. Young Witgood will be a gallant again now.
Hoa. Peace. [Listening.
First C. I promise you, master Cockpit, she’s a mighty rich widow.
Sec. C. Why, have you ever heard of her?
First C. Who? widow Medler? she lies open to much rumour.
Third C. Four hundred a-year, they say, in very good land.
First C. Nay, take’t of my word, if you believe that, you believe the least.
Sec. C. And to see how close he keeps it!
First C. O, sir, there’s policy in that, to prevent better suitors.
Third C. He owes me a hundred pound, and I protest I ne’er looked for a penny.
First C. He little dreams of our coming; he’ll wonder to see his creditors upon him. [Exeunt Creditors.
ACT III. SCENE I.
Wit. Why, alas, my creditors, could you find no other time to undo me but now? rather your malice appears in this than the justness of the debt.
First C. Master Witgood, I have forborne my money long.
Wit. I pray, speak low, sir: what do you mean?
Sec. C. We hear you are to be married suddenly to a rich country widow.
Wit. What can be kept so close but you creditors hear on’t! well, ’tis a lamentable state, that our chiefest afflictors should first hear of our fortunes. Why, this is no good course, i’faith, sirs: if ever you have hope to be satisfied, why do you seek to confound the means that should work it? there’s neither piety, no, nor policy in that. Shine favourably now: why, I may rise and spread again, to your great comforts.
Sec. C. Faith, we heard you brought up a rich widow, sir, and were suddenly to marry her.
Wit. Ay, why there it was: I knew ’twas so: but since you are so well resolved[62] of my faith toward you, let me be so much favoured of you, I beseech you all——
All. O, it shall not need, i’faith, sir!——
Wit. As to lie still awhile, and bury my debts in silence, till I be fully possessed of the widow; for the truth is—I may tell you as my friends—
All. O, O, O!——
Wit. I am to raise a little money in the city, toward the setting forth of myself, for mine own credit and your comfort; now, if my former debts should be divulged, all hope of my proceedings were quite extinguished.
First C. Do you hear, sir? I may deserve your custom hereafter; pray, let my money be accepted before a stranger’s: here’s forty pound I received as I came to you; if that may stand you in any stead, make use on’t. [Offers him money, which he at first declines.] Nay, pray, sir; ’tis at your service. [Aside to Witgood.
Wit. You do so ravish me with kindness, that I am[63] constrain’d to play the maid, and take it.
Sec. C. I go.—Take no care, sir, for money to furnish you; within this hour I’ll send you sufficient. [Aside to Witgood.]—Come, master Cockpit, we both stay for you.
Third C. I ha’ lost a ring, i’faith; I’ll follow you presently: [exeunt First and Second Creditors]—but you shall find it, sir; I know your youth and expenses have disfurnished you of all jewels: there’s a ruby of twenty pound price, sir; bestow it upon your widow. [Offers him the ring, which he at first declines.]—What, man! ’twill call up her blood to you; beside, if I might so much work with you, I would not have you beholding[64] to those bloodsuckers for any money.
Wit. Not I, believe it.
Third C. They’re a brace of cut-throats.
Wit. I know ’em.
Third C. Send a note of all your wants to my shop, and I’ll supply you instantly.
Wit. Say you so? why, here’s my hand then, no man living shall do’t but thyself.
Third C. Shall I carry it away from ’em both, then?
Wit. I’faith, shalt thou.
Third C. Troth, then, I thank you, sir.
Wit. Welcome, good master Cockpit. [Exit Third Creditor.]—Ha, ha, ha! why, is not this better now than lying a-bed? I perceive there’s nothing conjures up wit sooner than poverty, and nothing lays it down sooner than wealth and lechery: this has some savour yet. O that I had the mortgage from mine uncle as sure in possession as these trifles! I would forswear brothel at noonday, and muscadine and eggs at midnight.
Court. [within] Master Witgood, where are you?
Wit. Holla!
Court. Rich news!
Wit. Would ’twere all in plate!
Court. There’s some in chains and jewels: I am so haunted with suitors, master Witgood, I know not which to despatch first.
Wit. Wench, make up thy own fortunes now; do thyself a good turn once in thy days: he’s rich in money, movables, and lands; marry him: he’s an old doating fool, and that’s worth all; marry him: ’twould be a great comfort to me to see thee do well, i’faith; marry him: ’twould ease my conscience well to see thee well bestowed; I have a care of thee, i’faith.
Court. Thanks, sweet master Witgood.
Wit. I reach at farther happiness: first, I am sure it can be no harm to thee, and there may happen goodness to me by it: prosecute it well; let’s send up for our wits, now we require their best and most pregnant assistance.
Court. Step in, I think I hear ’em. [Exeunt.
Hoa. Art thou the widow’s man? by my faith, sh’as a company of proper men then.
Host. I am the worst of six, sir; good enough for blue coats.[66]
Hoa. Hark hither: I hear say thou art in most credit with her.
Host. Not so, sir.
Hoa. Come, come, thou’rt modest: there’s a brace of royals;[67] prithee, help me to th’ speech of her.
Host. I’ll do what I may, sir, always saving myself harmless.
Hoa. Go to, do’t, I say; thou shalt hear better from me.
Host. Is not this a better place than five mark a-year standing wages? Say a man had but three such clients in a day, methinks he might make a poor living on’t; beside, I was never brought up with so little honesty to refuse any man’s money; never: what gulls there are a’ this side the world! now know I the widow’s mind; none but my young master comes in her clutches: ha, ha, ha!
First G. We do, sir.
Sec. G. But, master Hoard, are you sure he is not i’ th’ house now?