SCENE I.[4085

[_Enter_ LORD] LOVELL _and_ ALLWORTH.

_Lov._ ’Tis well; give me my cloak; I now discharge you From further service. Mind your own affairs; I hope they will prove successful.

_All._ What is blest With your good wish, my lord, cannot but prosper. Let aftertimes report, and to your honour, 5 How much I stand engag’d, for I want language To speak my debt; yet if a tear or two Of joy, for your much goodness, can supply My tongue’s defects, I could——

_Lov._ Nay, do not melt: This ceremonial thanks to me ’s superfluous. 10

_Over._ (_within._) Is my lord stirring?

_Lov._ ’Tis he! oh, here’s your letter. Let him in.

_Enter_ OVERREACH, GREEDY, _and_ MARRALL.

_Over._ A good day to my lord!

_Lov._ You are an early riser, Sir Giles.

_Over._ And reason, to attend your lordship. 15

_Lov._ And you, too, Master Greedy, up so soon!

_Greedy._ In troth, my lord, after the sun is up, I cannot sleep, for I have a foolish stomach That croaks for breakfast. With your lordship’s favour, I have a serious question to demand 20 Of my worthy friend Sir Giles.

_Lov._ Pray you use your pleasure.

_Greedy._ How far, Sir Giles, and pray you answer me Upon your credit, hold you it to be From your manor-house, to this of my Lady’s Allworth’s?

_Over._ Why, some four mile.

_Greedy._ How! four mile, good Sir Giles—— Upon your reputation, think better; 26 For if you do abate but one half-quarter Of five, you do yourself the greatest wrong That can be in the world; for four miles riding Could not have rais’d so huge an appetite 30 As I feel gnawing on me.

_Mar._ Whether you ride, Or go afoot, you are that way still provided, An it please your worship.

_Over._ How now, sirrah? Prating Before my lord! No difference? Go to my nephew, See all his debts discharg’d, and help his worship 35 To fit on his rich suit.

_Mar._ [_Aside._] I may fit you too. Toss’d like a dog still! _Exit._

_Lov._ I have writ this morning A few lines to my mistress, your fair daughter.

_Over._ ’T will fire her, for she’s wholly yours already.— Sweet Master Allworth, take my ring; ’t will carry you 40 To her presence, I dare warrant you; and there plead For my good lord, if you shall find occasion. That done, pray ride to Nottingham, get a licence, Still by this token. I’ll have it dispatch’d, And suddenly, my lord, that I may say, 45 My honourable, nay, right honourable daughter.

_Greedy._ Take my advice, young gentleman, get your breakfast; ’Tis unwholesome to ride fasting. I’ll eat with you, And eat to purpose.

_Over._ Some Fury’s in that gut; Hungry again! Did you not devour, this morning, 50 A shield of brawn, and a barrel of Colchester oysters?

_Greedy._ Why, that was, sir, only to scour my stomach, A kind of a preparative. Come, gentleman, I will not have you feed like the hangman of Flushing, Alone, while I am here.

_Lov._ Haste your return. 55

_All._ I will not fail, my lord.

_Greedy._ Nor I, to line My Christmas coffer. _Exeunt_ GREEDY _and_ ALLWORTH.

_Over._ To my wish: we are private. I come not to make offer with my daughter A certain portion,—that were poor and trivial: In one word, I pronounce all that is mine, 60 In lands or leases, ready coin or goods, With her, my lord, comes to you; nor shall you have One motive to induce you to believe I live too long, since every year I’ll add Something unto the heap, which shall be yours too. 65

_Lov._ You are a right kind father.

_Over._ You shall have reason To think me such. How do you like this seat? It is well wooded, and well water’d, the acres Fertile and rich; would it not serve for change, To entertain your friends in a summer progress? What thinks my noble lord?

_Lov._ ’Tis a wholesome air, 71 And well-built pile; and she that’s mistress of it, Worthy the large revénue.

_Over._ She the mistress! It may be so for a time: but let my lord Say only that he likes it, and would have it, 75 I say, ere long ’t is his.

_Lov._ Impossible.

_Over._ You do conclude too fast, not knowing me, Nor the engines[4086] that I work by. ’T is not alone The Lady Allworth’s lands, for those once Wellborn’s 79 (As by her dotage on him I know they will be,) Shall soon be mine; but point out any man’s In all the shire, and say they lie convenient And useful for your lordship, and once more I say aloud, they are yours.

_Lov._ I dare not own What ’s by unjust and cruel means extorted; 85 My fame and credit are more dear to me, Than so to expose ’em to be censur’d by The public voice.

_Over._ You run, my lord, no hazard. Your reputation shall stand as fair, In all good men’s opinions, as now; 90 Nor can my actions, though condemn’d for ill, Cast any foul aspersion upon yours. For, though I do contemn report myself As a mere sound, I still will be so tender 94 Of what concerns you, in all points of honour, That the immaculate whiteness of your fame, Nor your unquestioned integrity, Shall e’er be sullied with one taint or spot That may take from your innocence and candour.[4087] All my ambition is to have my daughter 100 Right honourable, which my lord can make her: And might I live to dance upon my knee A young Lord Lovell, borne by her unto you, I write _nil ultra_[4088] to my proudest hopes. As for possessions and annual rents, 105 Equivalent to maintain you in the port Your noble birth and present state requires, I do remove that burthen from your shoulders, And take it on mine own: for, though I ruin The country to supply your riotous waste, 110 The scourge of prodigals, want, shall never find you.

_Lov._ Are you not frighted with the imprecations And curses of whole families, made wretched By your sinister practices?

_Over._ Yes, as rocks are, When foamy billows split themselves against Their flinty ribs; or as the moon is mov’d 116 When wolves, with hunger pin’d, howl at her brightness. I am of a solid temper, and, like these, Steer on a constant course. With mine own sword, 119 If call’d into the field, I can make that right, Which fearful enemies murmur’d at as wrong. Now, for these other piddling complaints Breath’d out in bitterness; as when they call me Extortioner, tyrant, cormorant, or intruder 124 On my poor neighbour’s right, or grand incloser Of what was common, to my private use; Nay, when my ears are pierc’d with widows’ cries, And undone orphans wash with tears my threshold, I only think what ’tis to have my daughter 129 Right honourable; and ’tis a powerful charm Makes me insensible of remorse, or pity, Or the least sting of conscience.

_Lov._ I admire[4089] The toughness of your nature.

_Over._ ’Tis for you, My lord, and for my daughter, I am marble; Nay more, if you will have my character 135 In little, I enjoy more true delight In my arrival to my wealth these dark And crooked ways, than you shall e’er take pleasure In spending what my industry hath compass’d. My haste commands me hence; in one word, therefore, 140 Is it a match?

_Lov._ I hope, that is past doubt now.

_Over._ Then rest secure; not the hate of all mankind here, Nor fear of what can fall on me hereafter, Shall make me study aught but your advancement One story higher: an earl! if gold can do it. 145 Dispute not my religion, nor my faith; Though I am borne thus headlong by my will, You may make choice of what belief you please, To me they are equal; so, my lord, good morrow. _Exit._

_Lov._ He’s gone—I wonder how the earth can bear 150 Such a portent! I, that have liv’d a soldier, And stood the enemy’s violent charge undaunted, To hear this blasphemous beast am bath’d all over In a cold sweat: yet, like a mountain, he (Confirm’d in atheistical assertions) 155 Is no more shaken than Olympus[4090] is When angry Boreas loads his double head With sudden drifts of snow.

_Enter_ LADY ALLWORTH, Waiting Woman, _and_ AMBLE.

_L. All._ Save you, my lord! Disturb I not your privacy?

_Lov._ No, good madam; For your own sake I am glad you came no sooner, 160 Since this bold bad man, Sir Giles Overreach, Made such a plain discovery of himself, And read this morning such a devilish matins, That I should think it a sin next to his But to repeat it.

_L. All._ I ne’er press’d, my lord, 165 On others’ privacies; yet, against my will, Walking, for health’ sake, in the gallery Adjoining to your lodgings, I was made (So vehement and loud he was) partaker Of his tempting offers.

_Lov._ Please you to command 170 Your servants hence, and I shall gladly hear Your wiser counsel.

_L. All._ ’Tis, my lord, a woman’s, But true and hearty;—wait in the next room, But be within call; yet not so near to force me To whisper my intents.

_Amb._ We are taught better 175 By you, good madam.

_W. Wom._ And well know our distance.

_L. All._ Do so, and talk not; ’t will become your breeding, _Exeunt_ AMBLE _and_ W. Woman. Now, my good lord; if I may use my freedom, As to an honour’d friend——

_Lov._ You lessen else Your favour to me.

_L. All._ I dare then say thus: 180 As you are noble (howe’er common men Make sordid wealth the object and sole end Of their industrious aims) ’t will not agree With those of eminent blood, who are engag’d More to prefer[4091] their honours than to increase The state left to ’em by their ancestors, 185 To study large additions to their fortunes, And quite neglect their births:—though I must grant, Riches, well got, to be a useful servant, But a bad master.

_Lov._ Madam, ’tis confessed; 190 But what infer you from it?

_L. All._ This, my lord; That as all wrongs, though thrust into one scale, Slide of themselves off when right fills the other And cannot bide the trial; so all wealth, I mean if ill-acquir’d, cemented to honour 195 By virtuous ways achiev’d, and bravely purchas’d, Is but as rubbish pour’d into a river, (Howe’er intended to make good the bank,) Rendering the water, that was pure before, Polluted and unwholesome. I allow 200 The heir of Sir Giles Overreach, Margaret, A maid well qualified and the richest match Our north part can make boast of; yet she cannot, With all that she brings with her, fill their mouths, That never will forget who was her father; 205 Or that my husband Allworth’s lands, and Wellborn’s, (How wrung from both needs now no repetition,) Were real motives that more work’d your lordship To join your families, than her form and virtues: You may conceive the rest.

_Lov._ I do, sweet madam, 210 And long since have consider’d it. I know, The sum of all that makes a just man happy Consists in the well choosing of his wife: And there, well to discharge it, does require Equality of years, of birth, of fortune; 215 For beauty being poor, and not cried up By birth or wealth, can truly mix with neither. And wealth, where there’s such difference in years, And fair descent, must make the yoke uneasy:— But I come nearer.

_L. All._ Pray you do, my lord. 220

_Lov._ Were Overreach’s states thrice centupl’d, his daughter Millions of degrees much fairer than she is, Howe’er I might urge precedents to excuse me, I would not so adulterate my blood By marrying Margaret, and so leave my issue Made up of several pieces, one part scarlet, 226 And the other London blue. In my own tomb I will inter my name first.

_L. All._ (_Aside._) I am glad to hear this.—— Why then, my lord, pretend you marriage to her? Dissimulation but ties false knots 230 On that straight line by which you, hitherto, Have measur’d all your actions.

_Lov._ I make answer, And aptly, with a question. Wherefore have you, That, since your husband’s death, have liv’d a strict And chaste nun’s life, on the sudden given yourself 235 To visits and entertainments? Think you, madam, ’Tis not grown public conference?[4092] Or the favours Which you too prodigally have thrown on Wellborn, Being too reserv’d before, incur not censure?

_L. All._ I am innocent here; and, on my life, I swear 240 My ends are good.

_Lov._ On my soul, so are mine To Margaret; but leave both to the event: And since this friendly privacy does serve But as an offer’d means unto ourselves, To search each other farther, you having shewn Your care of me, I my respect to you, 245 Deny me not, but still in chaste words, madam, An afternoon’s discourse.

_L. All._ So I shall hear you. [_Exeunt._]