ACT III.

[EARTHWORM'S _house_.] THEODORE, NEIGHBOURS with sacks.

THEO. Come, neighbours, pray draw near; my fellow Jasper Has told you wherefore you were sent for hither.

1ST NEIGH. Ay, I thank you, friend.

2D NEIGH. And my good master too.

THEO. My master, touch'd with sorrow and remorse For that unhappy error of his life-- That fault (alas!) which by too true a name Is termed misery, determines now By deeds of tender charity to make The wronged poor amends, and to the world Declare the fruits of a reformed life. And first your pardon, neighbours, he would beg, And, next to heaven, be reconcil'd to you.

1ST NEIGH. Now blessing on his heart!

2D NEIGH. Good tender soul!

3D NEIGH. I ever thought him a right honest man.

THEO. He that before did churlishly engross And lock those blessings up, which from the hand Of heaven were shower'd upon him, has at last Found their true use, and will henceforth redeem The former misspent time. His wealthy stores Shall be no longer shut against the poor; His bags seal'd up no longer, to debar The course of fitting bounty. To you all, Of corn and money, weekly he'll allow In recompense a greater quantity By far than men of greater rank shall do: Nor will he come himself to take your thanks, Till, as he says, he has deserv'd them better. Meantime, by me he pours his bounty forth, Which he desires with greatest secrecy May be perform'd; for all vainglorious shows And ostentation does his soul abhor. He sounds no trumpet to bestow his alms; Nor in the streets proclaims his charity, Which makes the virtue vice; nor would he have The world take notice of you at his doors.

1ST NEIGH. See, see, religious man!

2D NEIGH. Ah, neighbour! Some in the world have been mistaken in him.

THEO. Nor would he have you blaze his bounty forth, And praise him openly: forbear it, neighbours; Your private prayers only he desires And hearty wishes; for true charity, Though ne'er so secret, finds a just reward. I am his servant, newly entertain'd, But one to whom he does commit the trust Of his desires in this; and I should wrong His goodness strangely, if I should keep The least of what his bounty doth intend. Come in with me; I'll fill your sacks with corn, And let you see what money he bestows.

OMNES NEIGH. We'll pray to heaven to reward his goodness.

[_Exeunt._

EUPHUES, BARNET.

EUPH. Our Dotterel, then, is caught?

BAR. He is, and just As Dotterels[16] used to be: the lady first Advanc'd toward him, stretch'd forth her wing, and he Met her with all expressions; and he's caught As fast in her lime-twigs as he can be, Until the church confirm it.

EUPH. There will be Another brave estate for her to spend.

BAR. Others will be the better for't; and if None but a Dotterel suffer for't, what loss Of his can countervail the least good fortune That may from thence blow to another man?

EUPH. She spent her t'other husband a great fortune.

BAR. Dotterel's estate will find her work again For a great while: two thousand pounds a year Cannot be melted suddenly; when 'tis, Men can but say her prodigality Has done an act of justice, and translated That wealth, which fortune's blindness had misplac'd On such a fellow. What should he do with it?

EUPH. And thou say'st right: some men[17] were made to be The conduit-pipes of an estate, or rather The sieves of fortune, through whose leaking holes She means to scatter a large flood of wealth, Besprinkling many with refreshing showers. So usurers, so dying aldermen Pour out at once upon their sieve-like heirs Whole gusts of envi'd wealth; which they together Through many holes let out again in showers, And with their ruin water a whole country. But will it surely be a match?

BAR. As sure As the two old death's-heads to-morrow morning Are to be join'd together.

EUPH. Who, Sir Argent and his lady?

BAR. Yes, if she keep touch In what she promis'd me, I'll undertake Her Dotterel shall be sure, and given to her In matrimony.

EUPH. Given to his wife? I see thou mean'st in Dotterel to bring back The ancient Spanish custom, where the women Inherited the land, rul'd the estates; The men were given in marriage to the women With portions, and had jointures made to them: Just so will be his case; he will be married Unto a brave subjection. How the fool Is caught in his own noose! What confidence Had he, that he would never marry any, But such, forsooth, as must first fall in love With him, not knowing of his wealth at all?

BAR. Well, now he's fitted: he begun at first With fair Artemia.

EUPH. He might have told Her of his wealth, and miss'd her too, or else I am deceiv'd in her: true virtuous love Cannot be bought so basely; she besides Has been in love, I'm sure; and may be still, Though he be fled the land. But, now I think on't, I must go see whether old Earthworm's son Has yet perform'd what she desir'd: she stays At home.

BAR. I'll in, and see how Dotterel Courts his brave mistress: I left him composing A sonnet to her. There are the old couple Within too.

EUPH. If a man could get to hear Their way of courting, 'twould be full as strange As Dotterel's is ridiculous: but stay,

SIR ARGENT SCRAPE _and_ LADY COVET _brought in in chairs_.

Here come the lovely bride and bridegroom forth. Prythee, let's venture to stay here a little Behind the hangings, man: we shall be sure To hear their love; they are both somewhat deaf, And must speak loud.

BAR. Content, I'll stay with thee.

SIR ARG. Leave us awhile. Now, madam, you have seen, So have your learned counsel, that I deal Squarely with you: my personal estate Is no less worth than I profess'd, when first I mov'd my loving suit.

BAR. Ay, marry, sir, a loving suit indeed!

[_Aside._

EUPH. Let 'em go on in their own proper dialect.

[_Aside._

LADY C. I find it; And should be loth but to requite your truth In the same kind: you seem'd at first to question, How strong my title was in that estate Which was young Scudmore's once: 'tis a fair manor.

EUPH. 'Tis true, old rottenness--too good for you.

[_Aside._

LADY C. My counsel can inform you that I kept it, And did enjoy possession while he liv'd; And now he's dead, who should recover it? The heirs are poor and beggarly.

SIR ARG. Nay, I think We need not fear their suing against us.

LADY C. If they should stir, a little piece of money Would stop their mouths.

EUPH. A little piece of dirt Will stop your mouth ere long, and then the suit Will go against thee, mischief!

[_Aside._

BAR. Prythee, peace; Thou art not merry now, but choleric. [_Aside._

EUPH. I think of my wrong'd friend. [_Aside._

LADY C. But you were saying You made no doubt but shortly to enjoy Your kinsman Eugeny's estate: that were A fair addition to your land; they say It goes at fifteen hundred pounds a year.

SIR ARG. 'Tis true, and 'tis well worth it.

LADY C. But what hopes have you to gain it shortly?

SIR ARG. He, you know, By Scudmore's death has forfeited his life Unto the law; and the estate's entail'd On me as the next heir.

LADY C. But he is fled.

SIR ARG. No, no; I know he lurks not far from hence, And I shall shortly learn the very place By some intelligence. I have provided My secret scouts; and then you know th' assizes Are now at hand: the time will be too short To get a pardon, specially as I Have laid some friends to stall it underhand.

EUPH. Here's a new mischief, Barnet! [_Aside._

BAR. And a strange one. [_Aside._

LADY C. And then you must not spare a little money To hasten execution at an hour Unusual. Those things may well be done: Else what were money good for?

SIR ARG. You say right. If 'twere once come to that, I fear it not.

LADY C. Well, sir, I see all's right and straight between us. You understand how welcome you are hither; I need not tell it o'er again.

SIR ARG. No, lady; I will be bold to say, I do not come Now as a stranger, but to take possession Both of your house and you.

EUPH. He cannot speak Out of that thriving language in his love. [_Aside._

LADY C. Will you go in again? our guests, perhaps, Think the time long.

SIR ARG. With all my heart: A cup of sack would not do much amiss.

LADY C. We'll have it with a toast. Who's near there, ho!

_Enter_ SERVANTS, _and carry them out_.

BAR. What a strange kind of pageant have we seen?

EUPH. Barnet, I cannot tell whether such strange Unsatiable desires in these old folks, That are half earth already, should be thought More impious or more ridiculous.

BAR. They are both alike.

EUPH. But such a monstrous Unnatural plot as his, to apprehend His kinsman, I ne'er heard of! If I knew Where Eugeny remain'd, though 'twere his fortune To kill a friend of mine, I'd rescue him From this unnatural and wolfish man.

BAR. That would betray his life to satisfy His avarice, not justice of the law.

_Enter_ DOTTEREL, LADY WHIMSEY.

Here comes another piece of matrimony, That may be shortly.

EUPH. 'Tis better far than t'other: They are the last couple in hell.

DOT. Save you, gallants!

BAR. You are the gallant, sir, that on your arm Do wear the trophies of a conquer'd lady.

EUPH. Madam, I had almost mistaken my salutation, And bid God give you joy.

LADY W. Of what, I prythee?

EUPH. Of this young gallant, call him by what name Or title you are pleas'd, husband or servant.

BAR. He may be both, sir: he is not the first Has been a husband and a servant too.

DOT. I am her servant, sir: and I confess Have an ambition, and so forth.

LADY W. How now, servant!

EUPH. I tell you truly, madam, 'tis reported (And those reports are fatal still, you know) That Master Dotterel and you are purpos'd To bear the old knight and lady company To-morrow to the church.

LADY W. That I confess, and so will you, I think.

EUPH. Nay, but to do As they do, madam--tie the lasting knot.

LADY W. Do you hear, servant? This it is to have So proper a servant: every one supposes I must needs be in love.

DOT. I would you were As deep in Cupid's books as I.

EUPH. That is In Cupid's favour: you are a happy man.

LADY W. My servant has been searching Cupid's books, I think, to find that sonnet that he gave me. Are you content that I should show your poetry?

DOT. Do, mistress, I am not asham'd on't; But you shall give me leave to read it to 'em. 'Tis but a sonnet, gentlemen, that I fitted To my fair mistress here.

EUPH. Let us be happy To hear it, sir.

DOT. Take it as it is-- [_He reads._

_Dear, do not your fair beauty wrong;_ _In thinking still you are too young._

EUPH. How! too young?

BAR. Let him alone; I know the song.

DOT. _The rose and lilies in your cheek_ _Flourish, and no more ripeness seek;_ _Your cherry lip, red, soft and sweet,_ _Proclaims such fruit for taste most meet:_ _Then lose no time, for love has wings,_ _And flies away from aged things._

How do you like it, gentlemen?

EUPH. Very well. The song's a good one.

BAR. O, monstrous! Never man stole with so little judgment.

EUPH. Of all the love-songs that were ever made, He could not have chose out one more unfit, More palpably unfit, that must betray His most ridiculous theft.

LADY W. Who would have thought My servant should suppose I think myself Too young to love, that have already had One husband!

EUPH. O, excuse him, gentle madam, He found it in the song.

BAR. And, it should seem, He could get no other song but this.

LADY W. Surely a woman of five-and-thirty year old Is not too young to love!

BAR. O, spare him, madam!

EUPH. Let's raise him up. I think the sonnet's good: There's somewhat in't to th' purpose. Read it again.

[_He reads it again._

EUPH. ----_For taste most meet._ Very good; and there he tickled it? Mark'd you that, madam! The two last of all? _Then lose no time, for love hath wings--_ He gives you fitting counsel.

LADY W. Yes, I like it.

DOT. I thought, when they understood it, they would like it: I am sure, I have heard this song prais'd ere now.

LADY W. This does deserve a double favour, servant.

DOT. Let this be the favour, sweet mistress. [_Kisses her._

EUPH. How some men's poetry happens to be rewarded!

LADY W. Shall we go in? But, prythee, Euphues, What is the reason sweet Artemia, Thy cousin, is not here?

EUPH. I know not, madam; But her pretence was business. I am going To visit her. If you go in to keep Th' old couple company, I'll fetch her to you.

LADY W. I prythee, do! Farewell. Come, servant, Shall we go in?

DOT. I'll wait upon you, mistress. [_Exeunt._

THEODORE, ARTEMIA.

THEO. I will acquaint him, lady, with the hour, And to his longing ear deliver all Your sweet salutes; which is the only air Of life and comfort Eugeny takes in. Your constant love and virtues, sweetest lady, Are those preservatives, which from his heart Expel the killing fits of melancholy, And do, in spite of fortune, quicken him.

ART. O, would those comforts could arrive at him, That from my wishing thoughts are hourly sent!

THEO. Such virtuous wishes seldom are in vain.

ART. I should be far more sad in the behalf Of my dear Eugeny, but that I know He does enjoy your sweet society, Which he beyond all value does esteem.

THEO. His own is recompense enough for mine. And I the gainer in it; did not grief For his misfortune stain that perfect joy, Which I could take in his dear company.

ART. If I should speak, sir, how he values you, I should too much oppress your modesty.

THEO. Our friendship, fairest lady, is more old, And he more true, than that his heart so long Should be unknown to me. I'll not be long, Before I visit him to let him know, What hour shall make him happy in your sight. My longer stay, sweet lady, might be more Observ'd and pry'd into: let me be bold To leave you now, but be your servant ever.

ART. All happiness attend you, worthy sir. [_Exit_ THEODORE. Would I myself might go as well as send, And see that seeming solitary place, That place of woe. Sure, it would be to me No desert wood, while Eugeny were there, But a delightful palace. Here at home, The more that company comes in, the more I am alone, methinks. Wanting that object On which my heart is fix'd, I cannot be Possess'd of anything. Nothing can be My comfort but a hope that these sad clouds Of our misfortunes will at last blow over. But mischief's like a cockatrice's eyes-- Sees first and kills, or is seen first and dies.

_Enter_ EUPHUES.

EUPH. How dost thou, coz? I wrote a letter for thee To Earthworm's son: has the young ten-i'-th'-hundred Been here?

ART. I thank you, cousin; the gentleman Was with me, and but newly parted hence.

EUPH. H' has got a title then by coming hither: But he may be a gentleman; his wealth Will make it good.

ART. His virtues make it good: Believe it, cousin, there's a wealthy mind Within that plain outside.

EUPH. How's this? Have your quick eyes found out his worth already?

ART. They must be blind that cannot, when they know him. Well, cousin, you may laugh at me.

EUPH. By no means; I know your judgment's good.

ART. As good as 'tis, It must content a woman. When you know him, You'll find a man that may deserve your friendship, And far above all slighting.

EUPH. I am sorry I came not soon enough: but prythee, cousin, What are the ways have taken thee so soon?

ART. What taking do you mean? You promis'd me You would not ask the cause I sent for him, Though you shall know hereafter. But I hope You do not think I am in love with him?

EUPH. I'll look upon the man, and then resolve you.

ART. Well, do; perhaps you'll know him better, then: He knows you well.

EUPH. Me! Has he told you how?

ART. Did you ne'er meet one Theodore at Venice?

EUPH. Can this be he?

ART. Yes, very well; although He be old Earthworm's son, and make no shew At home.

EUPH. And have you found out so much worth In him already?

ART. How do you esteem him? We women well may err.

EUPH. I smell a rat; And, if my brain fail not, have found out all Your drifts, though ne'er so politicly carri'd.

ART. I know your brain, cousin, is very good; But it may fail.

EUPH. It comes into my head What old Sir Argent Scrape told to his lady. His kinsman Eugeny lurk'd hereabouts: He was her sweetheart once, and may be still; I think she's constant, though she keep it close. This Theodore and he were fam'd for friendship.

[_Aside._

I have collected, cousin, and have at you?

ART. Let's hear it, pray.

EUPH. You shall. This Theodore I do confess a most deserving man; And so perchance your lover Eugeny Has told you, cousin. Ha! do you begin To blush already? I am sure those two Were most entirely friends; and I am sorry To hear what I have heard to-day, concerning Young Eugeny.

ART. What, prythee, cousin? Tell me.

EUPH. Now you are mov'd; but I may err, you know.

ART. Good cousin, tell me what.

EUPH. Nay, I believe I shall worse startle you, though you would make Such fools as I believe he is in France. Yes, yes, it may be so; and then, you know, He's safe enough.

ART. O cousin, I'll confess What you would have me do; but tell me this.

EUPH. Nay, now I will not thank you; I have found it: And though you dealt in riddles so with me, I'll plainly tell you all, and teach you how You may perchance prevent your lover's danger.

ART. O, I shall ever love you.

EUPH. Well, come in; I'll tell you all, and by what means I knew it.

FOOTNOTES:

[15] I suppose he means a bumper, a cup filled till the wine rises above the top of it. Such a character as _Dotterel_ is hardly made to allude to the _pocula coronata_ of the Romans.--_Steevens._

A _crowned cup_ was not an unusual expression for a bumper: thus, in "All Fools," Fortunio says--

"True, and to welcome Dariotto's lateness He shall (unpledg'd) carouse one _crowned cup_ To all these ladies' health."

Dotterel might therefore very properly employ words in ordinary use, without supposing him acquainted with "the _pocula coronata_ of the Romans."--_Collier._

[16] [Compare vol. iv. p. 68.]

[17] So Pope--

"Who sees pale Mammon pine amidst his store, Sees but a backward steward for the poor; This year a reservoir to keep and spare; The next, a fountain, spouting through his heir, In lavish streams to quench a country's thirst, And men and dogs shall drink him till they burst."

--"Moral Essays," Ep. iii. l. 170.