Enter Russell and Trimtram.
Rus. Why, how now, son? what causeth these delays?
All stay for your leading.

Chough. Came I from the Mount[846] to be confronted?

Rus. How’s that, sir?

Chough. Canst thou roar, old man?

Rus. Roar? how mean you, sir?

Chough. Why, then, I’ll tell thee plainly, thy daughter is a bronstrops.

Rus. A bronstrops? what’s that, sir?

Trim. Sir, if she be so, she is a hippocrene.

Chough. Nay, worse, she is a fructifer.

Trim. Nay, then, she is a fucus, a minotaur, and a tweak.

Rus. Pray you, speak to my understanding, sir.

Chough. If thou wilt have it in plain terms, she is a callicut and a panagron.

Trim. Nay, then, she is a duplar and a sindicus.

Rus. Good sir, speak English to me.

Chough. All this is Cornish to thee; I say thy daughter has drunk bastard[847] in her time.

Rus. Bastard? you do not mean to make her a whore?

Chough. Yes, but I do, if she make a fool of me; I’ll ne’er make her my wife till she have her maidenhead again.

Rus. A whore? I do defy this calumny.

Chough. Dost thou? I defy thee then.

Trim. Do you, sir? then I defy thee too: fight with us both at once in this quarrel, if thou darest!

Chough. I could have had a whore at Plymouth.

Trim. Ay, or at Pe’ryn.[848]

Chough. Ay, or under the Mount.

Trim. Or as you came, at Ivel.[849]

Chough. Or at Wookey-Hole[850] in Somersetshire.

Trim. Or at the Hanging-stones in Wiltshire.

Chough. Or at Maidenhead in Berkshire: and did I come in by Maidenhead, to go out by Staines? O, that man, woman, or child, would wrestle with me for a pound of patience!

Rus. Some thief has put in poison at your ears,
To steal the good name of my child from me;
Or if it be a malice of your own,
Be sure I will enforce a proof from you.

Chough. He’s a goose and a woodcock that says I will not prove any word that I speak.

Trim. Ay, either goose or woodcock; he shall, sir, with any man.

Chough. Phy-si-ci-an! mauz avez physician![851]

Rus. Is he the author?

Re-enter Physician.
Phy. Sir, with much sorrow for your sorrow’s sake,
I must deliver this most certain truth;
Your daughter is an honour-stainèd bride,
Indeed she is the mother to a child
Before the lawful wife unto a husband.

Chough. La, that’s worse than I told thee; I said she had borne a bastard, and he says she was the mother on’t too.

Rus. I’m yet an infidel against all this,
And will believe the sun is made of brass,
The stars of amber——

Chough. And the moon of a Holland cheese.

Rus. Rather than this impossibility.
O, here she comes.
Re-enter Jane with Anne.
Nay come, daughter, stand at the bar of shame;
Either now quit thyself, or kill me ever:
Your marriage-day is spoil’d, if all be true.
Jane. A happy misery! who’s my accuser?
Phy. I am, that knows it true I speak.

Chough. Yes, and I’m his witness.

Trim. And I.

Chough. And I again.

Trim. And I again too; there’s four, that’s enough I hope.

Rus. How can you witness, sir, that nothing know
But what you have receiv’d from his report?

Chough. Must we not believe our physicians? pray you, think I know as much as every fool does.

Trim. Let me be Trimtram, I pray you too, sir.

Jane. Sir, if this bad man have laid a blemish
On my white name, he is a most false one,
Defaming me for the just denial
Of his foul lust.—Nay, now you shall be known, sir.
Anne. Sir, I’m his sister, and do better know him
Than all of you: give not too much belief
To his wild words; he’s oftentimes mad, sir.
Phy. I thank you, good sister!
Anne. Are you not mad
To do this office? fie upon your malice!
Phy. I’ll presently produce both nurse and child,
Whose very eyes shall call her mother before it speaks. [Exit.

Chough. Ha, ha, ha, ha! by my troth, I’d spend a shilling on that condition to hear that: I think in my conscience I shall take the physician in a lie; if the child call her mother before it can speak, I’ll never wrestle while I live again.

Trim. It must be a she child if it do, sir; and those speak the soonest of any living creatures, they say.

Chough. Baw, waw! a dog will bark a month sooner; he’s a very puppy else.

Rus. Come, tell truth 'twixt ourselves; here’s none but friends:
One spot a father’s love will soon wipe off;
The truth, and the[reb]y try my love abundant;
I’ll cover it with all the care I have,
And yet, perhaps, make up a marriage-day.
Jane. Then it’s true, sir, I have a[852] child.
Rus. Hast thou?
Well, wipe thine eyes; I’m a grandfather then.
If all bastards were banish’d, the city would be thin
In the thickest term-time. Well, now let me alone,
I’ll try my wits for thee.—Richard, Francis, Andrew!
None of my knaves within?
Enter Servant.

Ser. Here’s one of 'em, sir: the guests come in apace.

Rus. Do they, Dick? let 'em have wine and sugar;[853] we’ll be for 'em presently; but hark, Dick.

[Whispers Servant.

Chough. I long to hear this child speak, i’faith, Trim; I would this foolish physician would come once.

Trim. If it calls her mother, I hope it shall never call you father.

Chough. No; and[854] it do, I’ll whip it, i’faith, and give thee leave to whip me.

Rus. Run on thy best legs, Dick.

Ser. I’ll be here in a twinkling, sir. [Exit.

Re-enter Physician, with Dutch Nurse and child.
Phy. Now, gentlemen, believe your eyes, if not
My tongue.—Do not you call this your child?

Chough. Phew, that’s not the point! you promised us the child should call her mother; if it does this month, I’ll ne’er go to the roaring-school again.

Rus. Whose child is this, nurse?

Nurse. Dis gentleman’s, so he to me readen.

[Points to the physician.

Chough. ’Snails, she’s the physician’s bronstrops, Trim!

Trim. His fucus, his very tweak, i’faith.

Chough. A glister in his teeth! let him take her, with a purgation to him!

Rus. ’Tis as your sister said, you are stark mad, sir,
This much confirms it; you have defamèd
Mine honest daughter; I’ll have you punish’d for’t,
Besides the civil penance of your sin,
And keeping of your bastard.
Phy. This is fine!
All your wit and wealth must not thus carry it.
Rus. Sir Chough, a word with you.

Chough. I’ll not have her, i’faith, sir; if Trimtram will have her, and[855] he will, let him.

Trim. Who, I, sir? I scorn it: if you’ll have her, I’ll have her too; I’ll do as you do, and no otherwise.

Rus. I do not mean’t to either; this only, sir,
That whatsoe’er you’ve seen, you would be silent;
Hinder not my child of another husband,
Though you forsake her.

Chough. I’ll not speak a word, i’faith.

Rus. As you are a gentleman?

Chough. By these basket-hilts, as I am a youth, a gentleman, a roarer.

Rus. Charm[856] your man, I beseech you, too.

Chough. I warrant you, sir, he shall do nothing but what I do before him.

Rus. I shall most dearly thank you.—
Re-enter Servant with Fitzallen.
Welcome, son-in-law! this was beyond your hope:
We old men have pretty conceits sometimes;
Your wedding-day’s prepar’d, and this is it;
How think you of it?
Fitz. As of the joyfullest
That ever welcom’d me! you shew yourself now
A pattern to all kind fathers.—My sweetest Jane!
Rus. Your captivity I meant but as sauce
Unto your wedding-dinner; now I’m sure
’Tis far more welcome in this short restraint
Than had it freely come.
Fitz. A thousandfold.
Jane. I like this well. [Aside.

Chough. I have not the heart to see this gentleman gulled so; I will reveal; I make it mine own case; ’tis a foul case.

Trim. Remember you have sworn by your hilts.

Chough. I’ll break my hilts rather than conceal: I have a trick; do thou follow me; I will reveal it, and yet not speak it neither.

Trim. ’Tis my duty to follow you, sir.

Chough. [sings] Take heed in time, O man, unto thy head!
Trim. [sings] All is not gold that glistereth in bed.
Rus. Why, sir,—why, sir!
Chough. [sings] Look to’t, I say, thy bride is a bronstrops.
Trim. [sings] And knows the thing that men wear in their slops.
Fitz. How’s this, sir?
Chough. [sings] A hippocrene, a tweak, for and[857] a fucus.
Trim. [sings] Let not fond love with foretops so rebuke us!
Rus. Good sir——
Chough. [sings] Behold a baby of this maid’s begetting.
Trim. [sings] A deed of darkness after the sunsetting.
Rus. Your oath, sir!
Chough. [sings] I swear and sing thy bride has taken physic.
Trim. [sings] This was the doctor cur’d her of that phthisic.
Chough. [sings] If you’ll believe me, I will say no more.
Trim. [sings] Thy bride’s a tweak, as we do say that roar.

Chough. Bear witness, gentlemen, I have not spoke a word; my hilts are whole still.

Fitz. This is a sweet epithalamium
Unto the marriage-bed, a musical,
Harmonious Iö! Sir, you have wrong’d me,
And basely wrong’d me! was this your cunning fetch,
To fetch me out of prison, for ever to marry me
Unto a strumpet?
Rus. None of those words, good sir;
’Tis but a fault, and ’tis a sweet one too.
Come, sir, your means is short; lengthen your fortunes
With a fair proffer: I’ll put a thousand pieces
Into the scale, to help her to weigh it up,
Above the first dowry.
Fitz. Ha? you say well;
Shame may be bought out at a dear rate;
A thousand pieces added to her dowry!
Rus. There’s five hundred of 'em to make the bargain; [Gives money.
I’ve worthy guests coming, and would not delude ’em;
Say, speak like a son to me.
Fitz. Your blessing, sir;
We are both yours:—witness, gentlemen,
These must be made up a thousand pieces,
Added to a first thousand for her dowry,
To father that child.
Phy. O, is it out now?
Chough. For t’other thousand I’ll do’t myself yet.
Trim. Or I, if my master will.
Fitz. The bargain’s made, sir; I have the tender
And possession both, and will keep my purchase.

Chough. Take her e’en to you with all her moveables; I’ll wear my bachelor’s buttons still.

Trim. So will I, i’faith; they are the best flowers in any man’s garden, next to heart’s-ease.

Fitz. This is as welcome as the other, sir,
And both as the best bliss that e’er on earth
I shall enjoy. Sir, this is mine own child;
You could not have found out a fitter father;
Nor is it basely bred, as you imagine,
For we were wedded by the hand of heaven
Ere this work was begun.
Chough. At Pancridge,[858] I’ll lay my life on’t.
Trim. I’ll lay my life on’t too, ’twas there.
Fitz. Somewhere it was, sir.
Rus. Was’t so, i’faith, son?
Jane. And that I must have reveal’d to you, sir,
Ere I had gone to church with this fair groom;
But, thank this gentleman, he prevented[859] me.—
I am much bound unto your malice, sir.
Phy. I am asham’d.
Jane. Shame to amendment then.
Rus. Now get you together for a couple of cunning ones!
But, son, a word; the latter thousand pieces
Is now more than bargain.
Fitz. No, by my faith, sir,
Here’s witness enough on it; it must serve
To pay my fees, imprisonment is costly.

Chough. By my troth, the old man has gulled himself finely! Well, sir, I’ll bid myself a guest, though not a groom; I’ll dine, and dance, and roar at the wedding for all this.

Trim. So will I, sir, if my master does.

Rus. Well, sir, you’re welcome: but now, no more words on’t
Till we be set at dinner, for there will mirth
Be the most useful for digestion:
See, my best guests are coming.
Enter Lady Ager, Colonel’s Sister, Captain Ager, his two Friends, and Surgeon.
Cap. Ager. Recover’d, sayst thou?

Surg. May I be excluded quite out of Surgeons’ Hall else! marry, I must tell you the wound was fain to be twice corroded;’twas a plain gastrolophe,[860] and a deep one; but I closed the lips on’t with bandages and sutures[861] which is a kind[862] conjunction of the parts separated against the course of nature.

Cap. Ager. Well, sir, he is well.

Surg. I feared him, I assure you, captain; before the suture in the belly, it grew almost to a convulsion, and there was like to be a bloody issue from the hollow vessels of the kidneys.

Cap. Ager. There’s that, to thank thy news and thy art together.
[Gives him money.

Surg. And if your worship at any time stand in need of incision, if it be your fortune to light into my hands, I’ll give you the best.

Cap. Ager. Uncle, the noble Colonel’s recover’d.
Rus. Recover’d?
Then honour is not dead in all parts, coz.
Enter Colonel and two Friends.
First Fr. of Cap. Behold him yonder, sir.
Cap. Ager. My much unworthiness
Is now found out; thou’st not a face to fit it.
First Fr. of Col. Sir, yonder’s captain Ager.
Col. O lieutenant,
The wrong I’ve done his fame puts me to silence;
Shame so confounds me, that I dare not see him.
Cap. Ager. I never knew how poor my deserts were
Till he appear’d; no way to give requital!
Here shame me lastingly, do’t with his own:
Return this to him; tell him I have riches
In that abundance in his sister’s love,
These come but to oppress me, and confound
All my deservings everlastingly;
I never shall requite my wealth in her, say.
[Giving will to his friend, who delivers it to
the Colonel.
How soon from virtue and an honour’d spirit
May man receive what he may never merit!
Col. This comes most happily, to express me better;
For since this will was made, there fell to me
The manor of Fitzdale; give him that too;
[Returning will with other papers.
He’s like to have charge,
There’s fair hope of my sister’s fruitfulness:
For me, I never mean to change my mistress,
And war is able to maintain her servant.
First Fr. of Cap. Read there; a fair increase, sir, by my faith;
He hath sent it back, sir, with new additions.
Cap. Ager. How miserable he makes me! this enforces me
To break through all the passages of shame,
And headlong fall——
Col. Into my arms, dear worthy!
Cap. Ager. You have a goodness
Has put me past my answers; you may speak
What you please now, I must be silent ever.
Col. This day has shewn me joy’s unvalu’d[863] treasure;
I would not change this brotherhood with a monarch;
Into which blest alliance sacred heaven
Has plac’d my kinsman, and given him his ends:
Fair be that quarrel makes such happy friends!
[Exeunt omnes.