SCENE III.[4039

[_Enter_] OVERREACH, GREEDY, ORDER, AMBLE, FURNACE, WATCHALL, _and_ MARRALL.

_Greedy._ Not to be seen!

_Over._ Still cloistered up! Her reason, I hope, assures her, though she make herself Close prisoner ever for her husband’s loss, ’T will not recover him.

_Ord._ Sir, it is her will. Which we, that are her servants, ought to serve it, 5 And not dispute. Howe’er, you are nobly welcome; And, if you please to stay, that you may think so, There came, not six days since, from Hull, a pipe Of rich Canary, which shall spend itself For my lady’s honour.

_Greedy._ Is it of the right race? 10

_Ord._ Yes, Master Greedy.

_Amb._ How his mouth runs o’er!

_Furn._ I ’ll make it run, and run. Save your good worship!

_Greedy._ Honest Master Cook, thy hand; again, how I love thee! Are the good dishes still in being? Speak, boy.

_Furn._ If you have a mind to feed, there is a chine[4040] 15 Of beef, well seasoned.

_Greedy._ Good!

_Furn._ A pheasant, larded.

_Greedy._ That I might now give thanks for ’t!

_Furn._ Other kickshaws, Besides, there came last night, from the forest of Sherwood, The fattest stag I ever cook’d.

_Greedy._ A stag, man!

_Furn._ A stag, sir; part of it prepar’d for dinner, 20 And bak’d in puff-paste.

_Greedy._ Puff-paste too! Sir Giles, A ponderous chine of beef! a pheasant larded! And red deer too, Sir Giles, and bak’d in puff-paste! All business set aside, let us give thanks here.

_Furn._ How the lean skeleton ’s rapt!

_Over._ You know we cannot. 25

_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 dinner We may put off a commission: you shall find it _Henrici decimo quarto_.

_Over._ Fie, Master Greedy! 30 Will you lose me a thousand pounds for a dinner? No more, for shame! We must forget the belly When we think of profit.

_Greedy._ Well, you shall o’er-rule me; I could ev’n cry now.—Do you hear, Master Cook, Send but a corner of that immortal pasty, 35 And I, in thankfulness, will, by your boy, Send you—a brace of three-pences.

_Furn._ Will you be so prodigal?

_Enter_ WELLBORN.

_Over._ Remember me to your lady. Who have we here?

_Well._ You know me.

_Over._ I did once, but now I will not; Thou art no blood of mine. Avaunt, thou beggar! 40 If ever thou presume to own me more, I ’ll have thee cag’d and whipp’d.

_Greedy._ I ’ll grant the warrant. Think of Pie-corner. Furnace! _Exeunt_ OVERREACH, GREEDY, _and_ MARRALL.

_Watch._ Will you out, sir? I wonder how you durst creep in.

_Ord._ This is rudeness, And saucy impudence.

_Amb._ Cannot you stay 45 To be serv’d, among your fellows, from the basket,[4041] But you must needs press into the hall?

_Furn._ Prithee, vanish Into some outhouse, though it be the pigstye; My scullion shall come to thee.

_Enter_ ALLWORTH.

_Well._ This is rare. Oh, here ’s Tom Allworth. Tom!

_All._ We must be strangers; 50 Nor would I have you seen here for a million. _Exit._

_Well._ Better and better. He contemns me too!

_Enter_ Waiting Woman _and_ Chambermaid.

_Woman._ Foh, what a smell ’s here! What thing ’s this?

_Cham._ A creature Made out of the privy; let us hence, for love’s sake. Or I shall swoon.

_Woman._ I begin to feel faint already. 55

_Exeunt_ W. Woman _and_ Chambermaid.

_Watch._ Will you know your way;

_Amb._ Or shall we teach it you, By the head and shoulders?

_Well._ No; I will not stir; Do you mark, I will not: let me see the wretch That dares attempt to force me. Why, you slaves, Created only to make legs,[4042] and cringe; 60 To carry in a dish, and shift a trencher; That have not souls only to hope a blessing Beyond black-jacks[4043] or flagons; you, that were born Only to consume meat and drink, and batten[4044] Upon reversions!—who advances? Who 65 Shews me the way?

_Ord._ My lady!

_Enter_ LADY ALLWORTH, Waiting Woman, _and_ Chambermaid.

_Cham._ Here ’s the monster.

_Woman._ Sweet madam, keep your glove to your nose.

_Cham._ Or let me Fetch some perfumes may be predominant; You wrong yourself else.

_Well._ Madam, my designs Bear me to you.

_L. All._ To me!

_Well._ And though I have met with 70 But ragged entertainment from your grooms here, I hope from you to receive that noble usage As may become the true friend of your husband, And then I shall forget these.

_L. All._ I am amaz’d To see and hear this rudeness. Dar’st thou think, 75 Though sworn, that it can ever find belief, That I, who to the best men of this country Deni’d my presence since my husband’s death, Can fall so low as to change words with thee? Thou son of infamy, forbear my house, 80 And know and keep the distance that ’s between us; Or, though it be against my gentler temper, I shall take order you no more shall be An eyesore to me.

_Well._ Scorn me not, good lady; But, as in form you are angelical, 85 Imitate the heavenly natures, and vouchsafe At the least awhile to hear me. You will grant The blood that runs in this arm is as noble As that which fills your veins; those costly jewels, And those rich clothes you wear, your men’s observance 90 And women’s flattery, are in you no virtues, Nor these rags, with my poverty, in me vices. You have a fair fame, and, I know, deserve it; Yet, lady, I must say, in nothing more Than in the pious sorrow you have shewn 95 For your late noble husband.

_Ord._ How she starts!

_Furn._ And hardly can keep finger from the eye, To hear him nam’d.

_L. All._ Have you aught else to say?

_Well._ That husband, madam, was once in his fortune 99 Almost as low as I; want, debts, and quarrels Lay heavy on him: let it not be thought A boast in me, though I say I reliev’d him. ’T was I that gave him fashion; mine the sword That did on all occasions second his; I brought him on and off with honour, lady; 105 And when in all men’s judgments he was sunk, And, in his own hopes, not to be buoy’d[4045] up, I stepp’d unto him, took him by the hand, And set him upright.

_Furn._ Are not we base rogues, That could forget this?

_Well._ I confess, you made him 110 Master of your estate; nor could your friends, Though he brought no wealth with him, blame you for ’t; For he had a shape, and to that shape a mind Made up of all parts either great or noble; So winning a behaviour, not to be 115 Resisted, madam.

_L. All._ ’T is most true, he had.

_Well._ For his sake, then, in that I was his friend, Do not contemn me.

_L. All._ For what ’s past excuse me, I will redeem it. Order, give the gentleman A hundred pounds.

_Well._ No, madam, on no terms: 120 I will nor beg nor borrow sixpence of you, But be suppli’d elsewhere, or want thus ever. Only one suit I make, which you deny not To strangers; and ’t is this. _Whispers to her._

_L. All._ Fie! nothing else?

_Well._ Nothing, unless you please to charge your servants 125 To throw away a little respect upon me.

_L. All._ What you demand is yours.

_Well._ I thank you, lady. Now what can be wrought out of such a suit Is yet in supposition: I have said all; When you please, you may retire.— [_Exit_ LADY ALL.] Nay, all ’s forgotten; [_To the_ Servants.] And, for a lucky omen to my project, 131 Shake hands, and end all quarrels in the cellar.

_Ord._ Agreed, agreed.

_Furn._ Still merry Master Wellborn. _Exeunt._