SCENE I.][3786

_Enter_ WITGOOD, _a gentleman_, _solus_.

_Wit._ All ’s gone! still thou ’rt a gentleman, that ’s all; but a poor one, that ’s nothing. What milk brings thy meadows forth now? Where are thy goodly uplands, and thy down-lands? All sunk into that little pit, lechery, (5) Why should a gallant pay but two shillings for his ordinary that nourishes him, and twenty times two for his brothel that consumes him? But where ’s Longacre?[3787] In my uncle’s conscience, which is three years’ voyage about: (10) he that sets out upon his conscience ne’er finds the way home again; he is either swallowed in the quicksands of law-quillets, or splits upon the piles of a _praemunire_;[3788] yet these old fox-brain’d and ox-brow’d uncles have still defences (15) for their avarice, and apologies for their practices, and will thus greet our follies:

He that doth his youth expose To brothel, drink, and danger, Let him that is his nearest kin 20 Cheat him before a stranger:

and that ’s his uncle; ’t is a principle in usury. I dare not visit the city: there I should be too soon visited by that horrible plague, my debts; and by that means I lose a virgin’s love, her (25) portion, and her virtues. Well, how should a man live now that has no living? Hum,—why, are there not a million of men in the world that only sojourn upon their brain, and make their wits their mercers; and am I but one amongst that million, and cannot thrive upon ’t? Any 31 trick, out of the compass of law, now would come happily to me.

_Enter_ Courtesan.

_Cour._ My love!

_Wit._ My loathing! has thou been the secret (35) consumption of my purse, and now com’st to undo my last means, my wits? Wilt leave no virtue in me, and yet thou ne’er the better? Hence, courtesan, round-webb’d tarantula, That dry’st the roses in the cheeks of youth! 40

_Cour._ I ’ve been true unto your pleasure; and all your lands Thrice rackt[3789] was never worth the jewel which I prodigally gave you, my virginity. Lands mortgag’d may return, and more esteem’d, But honesty[3790] once pawn’d, is ne’er redeem’d. 45

_Wit._ Forgive; I do thee wrong To make thee sin, and then to chide thee for ’t.

_Cour._ I know I am your loathing now; farewell.

_Wit._ Stay, best invention, stay.

_Cour._ I that “have been the secret consumption (50) of your purse,” shall I stay now “to undo your last means, your wits? Hence, courtesan,” away!

_Wit._ I prithee, make me not mad at my own weapon: stay (a thing few women can do, I (55) know that, and therefore they had need wear stays), be not contrary. Dost love me? Fate has so cast[3791] it that all my means I must derive from thee.

_Cour._ From me? be happy then; 60 What lies within the power of my performance Shall be commanded of thee.

_Wit._ Spoke like An honest drab, i’ faith. It may prove something; What trick is not an embryon at first, Until a perfect shape come over it? 65

_Cour._ Come, I must help you: whereabouts left you? I ’ll proceed: Though you beget, ’t is I must help to breed. Speak, what is ’t? I ’d fain conceive it.

_Wit._ So, so, so: thou shalt presently take (70) the name and form upon thee of a rich country widow, four hundred a-year valiant,[3792] in woods, in bullocks, in barns, and in rye-stacks. We ’ll to London, and to my covetous uncle.

_Cour._ I begin to applaud thee; our states (75) being both desperate, they are soon resolute. But how for horses?

_Wit._ Mass, that ’s true; the jest will be of some continuance. Let me see; horses now, a bots[3793] on ’em! Stay, I have acquaintance with (80) a mad host, never yet bawd to thee. I have rins’d the whoreson’s gums in mull-sack[3794] many a time and often. Put but a good tale into his ear now, so it come off cleanly, and there ’s horse and man for us, I dare warrant thee. 85

_Cour._ Arm your wits then Speedily; there shall want nothing in me, Either in behaviour, discourse, or fashion, That shall discredit your intended purpose. I will so artfully disguise my wants, 90 And set so good a courage on my state, That I will be believed.

_Wit._ Why, then, all ’s furnisht. I shall go nigh to catch that old fox, mine uncle. Though he make but some amends for my undoing, (95) yet there ’s some comfort in ’t, he cannot otherwise choose (though it be but in hope to cozen[3795] me again) but supply any hasty want that I bring to town with me. The device well and cunningly carried, the name of a rich (100) widow, and four hundred a-year in good earth, will so conjure up a kind of usurer’s love in him to me, that he will not only desire my presence,—which at first shall scarce be granted him, I ’ll keep off a’ purpose,—but I shall find (105) him so officious to deserve, so ready to supply! I know the state of an old man’s affection so well: if his nephew be poor indeed, why, he let’s God alone with him; but if he be once rich, then he ’ll be the first man that helps him. 110

_Cour._ ’T is right the world;[3796] for, in these days, an old man’s love to his kindred is like his kindness to his wife, ’t is always done before he comes at it. 114

_Wit._ I owe thee for that jest. Begone: here ’s all my wealth; prepare thyself, away. I ’ll to mine host with all possible haste; and with the best art, and most profitable form, pour the sweet circumstance into his ear, (119) which shall have the gift to turn all the wax to honey. [_Exit Courtesan._]—How now? O, the right worshipful signors of our country!

[_Enter_ ONESIPHORUS HOARD, LIMBER, _and_ KIX.]

[_O. Hoa._][3797] Who ’s that?

[_Lim._] O, the common rioter; take no note of him. 125

_Wit._ [_Aside._] You will not see me now; the comfort is, Ere it be long you will scarce see yourselves. [_Exit._]

[_O. Hoa._] I wonder how he breathes; h ’as consum’d all Upon that courtesan.

[_Lim._] We have heard so much.

[_O. Hoa._] You ’ve heard all truth. His uncle and my brother 130 Have been these three years mortal adversaries: Two old tough spirits, they seldom meet but fight, Or quarrel when ’t is calmest: I think their anger be the very fire 134 That keeps their age alive.

[_Lim._] What was the quarrel, sir?

[_O. Hoa._] Faith, about a purchase, fetching over a young heir. Master Hoard, my brother, having wasted much time in beating the bargain, what did rue old Lucre, but as his conscience (139) mov’d him, knowing the poor gentleman, stept in between ’em and cozened him himself.

[_Lim._] And was this all, sir?

[_O. Hoa._] This was e’en it, sir; yet for (144) all this, I know no reason but the match might go forward betwixt his wife’s son and my niece; what though there be a dissension between the two old men, I see no reason it should put a difference between the two younger; ’t is as (149) natural for old folks to fall out, as for young to fall in. A scholar comes a-wooing to my niece; well, he’s wise, but he’s poor: her son comes a-wooing to my niece; well, he ’s a fool, but he ’s rich.

[_Lim._] Ay, marry, sir. 155

[_O. Hoa._] Pray, now, is not a rich fool better than a poor philosopher?

[_Lim._] One would think so, i’ faith.

[_O. Hoa._] She now remains at London (159) with my brother, her second uncle, to learn fashions, practise music; the voice between her lips, and the viol between her legs, she ’ll be fit for a consort[3798] very speedily: a thousand good pound is her portion; if she marry, we ’ll ride up and be merry. 165

[_Kix._] A match, if it be a match. _Exeunt._

[SCENE II.][3799]

_Enter at one door_, WITGOOD, _at the other_, Host.

_Wit._ Mine host!

_Host._ Young Master Witgood.

_Wit._ I have been laying[3800] all the town for thee.

_Host._ Why, what ’s the news, bully (5) Hadland?

_Wit._ What geldings are in the house, of thine own? Answer me to that first.

_Host._ Why, man, why? 9

_Wit._ Mark me what I say: I ’ll tell thee such a tale in thine ear, that thou shalt trust me spite of thy teeth, furnish me with some money willy nilly, and ride up with me thyself _contra vuluntatem et professionem_.[3801] 14

_Host._ How? Let me see this trick, and I ’ll say thou hast more art than a conjuror.

_Wit._ Dost thou joy in my advancement?

_Host._ Do I love sack and ginger?

_Wit._ Comes my prosperity desiredly to thee? 20

_Host._ Come forfeitures to a usurer, fees to an officer, punks to an host, and pigs to a parson desiredly? Why, then, la.

_Wit._ Will the report of a widow of four hundred a-year, boy, make thee leap, and sing, and dance, and come to thy place again? 26

_Host._ Wilt thou command me now? I am thy spirit; conjure me into any shape.

_Wit._ I ha’ brought her from her friends, (29) turn’d back the horses by a slight; not so much as one among her six men, goodly large yeomanly fellows, will she trust with this her purpose: by this light, all unmann’d,[3802] regardless of her state, neglectful of vain-glorious ceremony, all for my love. O, ’t is a fine little voluble tongue, mine host, that wins a widow! 36

_Host._ No, ’t is a tongue with a great T, my boy, that wins a widow.

_Wit._ Now, sir, the case stands thus: good mine host, if thou lovest my happiness, assist me. 41

_Host._ Command all my beasts i’ th’ house.

_Wit._ Nay, that ’s not all neither: prithee take truce with thy joy, and listen to me. (44) Thou know’st I have a wealthy uncle i’ th’ city, somewhat the wealthier by my follies. The report of this fortune, well and cunningly carried, might be a means to draw some goodness from the usuring rascal; for I have put her in hope 49 already of some estate that I have either in land or money. Now, if I be found true in neither, what may I expect but a sudden breach of our love, utter dissolution of the match, and confusion of my fortunes for ever? 54

_Host._ Wilt thou but trust the managing of thy business with me?

_Wit._ With thee? Why, will I desire to thrive in my purpose? Will I hug four hundred a-year, I that know the misery of nothing? Will that man wish a rich widow, that has ne’er a (60) hole to put his head in? With thee, mine host? Why, believe it, sooner with thee than with a covey of counsellors.

_Host._ Thank you for your good report, i’ faith, sir; and if I stand you not in stead, (65) why then let an host, come off _hic et haec hostis_, a deadly enemy to dice, drink, and venery. Come, where ’s this widow?

_Wit._ Hard at Park-end.

_Host._ I ’ll be her serving-man for once. 70

_Wit._ Why, there we let off together, keep full time; my thoughts were striking then just the same number.

_Host._ I knew ’t: shall we then see our merry days again? 75

_Wit._ Our merry nights—[_Aside._] which ne’er shall be more seen. _Exeunt._

[SCENE III.][3803]

_Enter at several doors_, _old_ LUCRE _and old_ HOARD; [LAMPREY, SPICHCOCK, FREEDOM, _and_ MONEYLOVE.] _gentlemen coming between them to pacify them_.

_Lam._ Nay, good Master Lucre, and you, Master Hoard, anger is the wind which you’re both too much troubled withal.

_Hoa._ Shall my adversary thus daily affront me? ripping up the old wound of our malice, (5) which three summers could not close up? into which wound the very sight of him drops scalding lead instead of balsamum.

_Luc._ Why, Hoard, Hoard, Hoard, Hoard, Hoard! may I not pass in the state of quietness (10) to mine own house? Answer me to that, before witness, and why? I ’ll refer the cause to honest, even-minded gentlemen, or require the mere indifferences[3804] of the law to decide this matter. I got the purchase,[3805] true: was ’t (15) not any man’s case? Yes. Will a wise man stand as a bawd, whilst another wipes his nose[3806] of the bargain? No: I answer no in that case.

_Lam._ Nay, sweet Master Lucre.

_Hoa._ Was it the part of a friend—no, (20) rather of a Jew;—mark what I say—when I had beaten the bush to the last bird, or, as I may term it, the price to a pound, then, like a cunning usurer, to come in the evening of the bargain, and glean all my hopes in a minute? (25) to enter, as it were, at the back door of the purchase? for thou ne’er camest the right way by it.

_Luc._ Hast thou the conscience to tell me so without any impeachment to thyself? 30

_Hoa._ Thou that canst defeat thy own nephew, Lucre, lap his lands into bonds, and take the extremity of thy kindred’s forfeitures, because he ’s a rioter, a wastethrift, a brothel-master, and so forth,—what may a stranger expect (35) from thee but _vulnera dilacerata_, as the poet says, dilacerate dealing?

_Luc._ Upbraidest thou me with nephew? Is all imputation laid upon me? What acquaintance have I with his follies? If he riot, ’t is 40 he must want it; if he surfeit, ’t is he must feel it; if he drab it, ’t is he must lie by ’t: what ’s this to me?

_Hoa._ What ’s all to thee? Nothing, nothing; such is the gulf of thy desire and the wolf of (45) thy conscience: but be assured, old Pecunius Lucre, if ever fortune so bless me that I may be at leisure to vex thee, or any means so favour me that I may have opportunity to mad thee,[3807] I will pursue it with that flame of hate, (50) spirit of malice, unrepressed wrath, that I will blast thy comforts.

_Luc._ Ha, ha, ha!

_Lam._ Nay, Master Hoard, you ’re a wise gentleman—— 55

_Hoa._ I will so cross thee——

_Luc._ And I thee.

_Hoa._ So without mercy fret thee——

_Luc._ So monstrously oppose thee——

_Hoa._ Dost scoff at my just anger? O, that (60) I had as much power as usury has over thee!

_Luc._ Then thou wouldst have as much power as the devil has over thee.

_Hoa._ Toad!

_Luc._ Aspic![3808] 65

_Hoa._ Serpent!

_Luc._ Viper!

_Spi._ Nay, gentlemen, then we must divide you perforce.

_Lam._ When the fire grows too unreasonable (70) hot, there ’s no better way than to take off the wood. _Exeunt_ [LAMPREY _and_ SPICHCOCK, _drawing off_ LUCRE _and_ HOARD _different ways_].

_Free._ A word, good signior.

_Mon._ How now, what ’s the news?

_Free._ ’T is given me to understand that (75) you are a rival of mine in the love of Mistress Joyce, Master Hoard’s niece: say me ay, say me no?

_Mon._ Yes, ’t is so.

_Free._ Then look to yourself, you cannot (80) live long. I’m practising every morning; a month hence I ’ll challenge you.

_Mon._ Give me your hand upon ’t; there ’s my pledge I ’ll meet you. _Strikes him, and exit._

_Free._ O, O! what reason had you for that, sir, to strike before the month? You knew (86) I was not ready for you, and that made you so crank:[3809] I am not such a coward to strike again, I warrant you. My ear has the law of her side, for it burns horribly. I will teach him to strike a naked face, the longest day of his life. 91 ’Slid, it shall cost me some money but I ’ll bring this box into the chancery. _Exit._

[SCENE IV.][3810]

_Enter_ WITGOOD _and_ Host.

_Host._ Fear you nothing, sir; I have lodg’d her in a house of credit, I warrant you.

_Wit._ Hast thou the writings?

_Host._ Firm, sir.

_Wit._ Prithee, stay, and behold two the (5) most prodigious rascals that ever slipt into the shape of men; Dampit, sirrah, and young Gulf, his fellow-caterpillar.

_Host._ Dampit? Sure I have heard of that Dampit? 10

_Wit._ Heard of him! Why, man, he that has lost both his ears may hear of him; a famous infamous trampler[3811] of time; his own phrase. Note him well: that Dampit, sirrah, he in the uneven beard and the serge cloak, is the (15) most notorious, usuring, blasphemous, atheistical, brothel-vomiting rascal, that we have in these latter times now extant; whose first beginning was the stealing of a masty[3812] dog from a farmer’s house. 20

_Host._ He lookt as if he would obey the commandment[s] well, when he began first with stealing.

_Wit._ True: the next town he came at, he set the dogs together by th’ ears. 25

_Host._ A sign he should follow the law, by my faith.

_Wit._ So it followed, indeed; and being destitute of all fortunes, stakt his masty against a noble,[3813] and by great fortune his dog had the (30) day. How he made it up ten shillings, I know not, but his own boast is, that he came to town with but ten shillings in his purse, and now is credibly worth ten thousand pound.

_Host._ How the devil came he by it? 35

[_Enter_ DAMPIT _and_ GULF.]

_Wit._ How the devil came he not by it? If you put in the devil once, riches come with a vengeance. Has been a trampler of the law, sir; and the devil has a care of his footmen. The rogue has spied me now; he nibbled me finely (40) once, too:—a pox search you!—O, Master Dampit!—the very loins of thee!—Cry you mercy. Master Gulf; you walk so low, I promise you I saw you not, sir.

_Gulf._ He that walks low walks safe, the (45) poets tell us.

_Wit._ [_Aside._] And nigher hell by a foot and a half than the rest of his fellows.—But, my old Harry!

_Dam._ My sweet Theodorus! 50

_Wit._ ’T was a merry world when thou camest to town with ten shillings in thy purse.

_Dam._ And now worth ten thousand pound, my boy. Report it; Harry Dampit, a trampler of time, say, he would be up in a morning, 55 and be here with his serge gown, dasht up to the hams in a cause; have his feet stink about Westminster Hall, and come home again; see the galleons, the galleasses,[3814] the great armadas of the law; then there be hoys[3815] and petty (60) vessels, oars and scullers of the time; there be picklocks of the time too: then would I be here; I would trample up and down like a mule: now to the judges, “May it please your reverend honourable fatherhoods;” then to (65) my counsellor, “May it please your worshipful patience;” then to the examiner’s office, “May it please your mastership’s gentleness;” then to one of the clerks, “May it please your worshipful lousiness,”—for I find him scrubbing (70) in his codpiece; then to the hall again, then to the chamber again—

_Wit._ And when to the cellar again?

_Dam._ E’en when thou wilt again: tramplers of time, motions[3816] of Fleet-Street, and visions (75) of Holborn; here I have fees of one, there I have fees of another; my clients come about me, the fooliaminy[3817] and coxcombry of the country: I still trasht[3818] and trotted for other men’s causes. Thus was pour Harry Dampit 80 made rich by others’ laziness, who though they would not follow their own suits, I made ’em follow me with their purses.

_Wit._ Didst thou so, old Harry?

_Dam._ Ay, and I sous’d ’em with bills of (85) charges, i’ faith; twenty pound a-year have I brought in for boat-hire, and I ne’er stept into boat in my life.

_Wit._ Tramplers of time!

_Dam._ Ay, tramplers of time, rascals of (90) time, bull-beggars![3819]

_Wit._ Ah, thou ’rt a mad old Harry!—Kind Master Gulf, I am bold to renew my acquaintance.

_Gulf._ I embrace it, sir. _Exeunt._ 95

MUSIC