Chapter 11

Lovell _and_ Allworth _discovered_.

_Lov._ 'Tis well. I now discharge you From farther service. Mind your own affairs; I hope they will prove successful.

_Allw._ What is blest With your good wish, my lord, cannot but prosper. Let after-times report, and to your honour, 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 of thanks to me's superfluous.

_Sir G._ [_Within._] Is my lord stirring?

_Lov._ 'Tis he! Oh, here's your letter; let him in.

_Enter_ Sir Giles, Greedy, _and_ Marall.

_Sir G._ A good day to my lord.

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

_Sir G._ And reason, to attend to your lordship.

_Lov._ And you too, Mr. 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 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 Allworth's?

_Sir G._ Why, some four miles.

_Greedy._ How! four miles, good Sir Giles? Upon your reputation think better; For four miles riding Could not have rais'd so huge an appetite As I feel gnawing on me.

_Mar._ Whether you ride Or go a-foot, you are that way still provided, And it please your worship.

_Sir G._ How now, sirrah! prating Before my lord! no difference? go to my nephew, See all his debts discharged, and help his worship To fit on his rich suit.

_Mar._ I may fit you too. [_Exit_ Marall.

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

_Sir G._ Twill fire her, for she's wholly yours already. Sweet Mr. Allworth, take my ring; 'twill carry To her presence, I warrant you; and there plead For my good lord, if you shall find occasion. That done, pray ride to Nottingham; get a license, Still, by this token. I'll have it despatch'd, And suddenly, my lord: that I may say, 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 that abundantly.

_Sir G._ Some fury's in that gut: Hungry again? Did you not devour this morning A shield of brawn, and a barrel of Colchester oysters?

_Greedy._ Why, that was, sir, only to scour my stomach, A kind of preparative. I am no camelion, to feed on air; but love To see the board well spread, Groaning under the heavy burden of the beast That cheweth the cud, and the fowl That cleaveth the air. Come, young gentleman, I will not have you feed alone, while I am here.

_Lov._ Haste your return.

_Allw._ I will not fail, my lord.

_Greedy._ Nor I, to line My Christmas coffer.

[_Exeunt_ Greedy _and_ Allworth.

_Sir G._ To my wish, we're 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, 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.

_Lov._ You are a right kind father.

_Sir G._ 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's progress? What thinks my noble lord?

_Lov._ 'Tis a wholesome air, And well built; and she, that's mistress of it, Worthy the large revenue.

_Sir G._ She the mistress? It may be so for a time; but let my lord Say only, that he but like it, and would have it, I say, ere long 'tis his.

_Lov._ Impossible!

_Sir G._ You do conclude too fast, not knowing me, Nor the engines that I work by. 'Tis not alone The lady Allworth's lands; for those, once Wellborn's (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. My fame and credit are more dear to me, Than to expose 'em to be censur'd by The public voice.

_Sir G._ You run, my lord, no hazard; Your reputation, shall stand as fair In all good men's opinions, as now: Nor can my actions, though condemned 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 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; All my ambition is to have my daughter Right honourable, which my lord can make her: And might I live to dance upon my knee A young Lord Lovell, born by her unto you, I write _nil ultra_ to my proudest hopes.

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

_Sir G._ Yes, as rocks are, When foamy billows split themselves against Their flinty ribs; or as the moon is mov'd, 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, If called into the field, I can make that right, Which fearful enemies murmur'd at as wrong. Nay, when my ears are pierc'd with widow's cries. And undone orphans wash with tears my threshold, I only think what 'tis, to have my daughter Right Honourable; and 'tis a powerful charm, Makes me insensible of remorse, or pity, Or the least sting of conscience. In one word, therefore, Is it a match my lord?

_Lov._ I hope that is past doubt now.

_Sir G._ 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. Dispute not my religion, nor my faith, Though I am borne thus headlong to my will; You may make choice of what belief you please, To me thy are equal; so, my lord, good morrow.

[_Exit._

_Lov._ He's gone; I wonder how the earth can bear Such a monster! I, that have liv'd a soldier, And stood the enemy's violent charge undaunted, To hear this horrid beast, I'm bath'd all over In a cold sweat; yet, like a mountain, he Is no more shaken than Olympus is, When angry Boreas loads his double head With sudden drifts of snow.

_Enter_ Lady Allworth.

_Lady A._ 'Save you, my lord. Disturb I not your privacy?

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

_Lady A._ I ne'er press'd, my lord, On others privacies; yet, against my will, Walking, for health's sake, in the gallery Adjoining to our lodgings, I was made (So loud and vehement he was) partaker Of his tempting offers. But, My good lord, If I may use my freedom, As to an honour'd friend----

_Lov._ You lessen else Your favour to me.

_Lady A._ I dare then say thus: (However common men Make sordid wealth the object and sole end Of their industrious aims), 'twill not agree With those of noble blood, of fame and honour.

_Lov._ Madam, 'tis confess'd; But what infer you from it?

_Lady A._ This, my lord: I allow The heir of Sir Giles Overreach, Margaret, A maid well qualified, and the richest match Our north part can boast of; yet she cannot, With all she brings with her fill their mouths, That never will forget who was her father; Or that my husband Allworth's lands, and Wellborn's, (How wrung from both needs 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; And long since have consider'd it. And this my resolution, mark me, madam; Were Overreach's 'states thrice centupled; his daughter Millions of degrees much fairer than she is, I would not so adulterate my blood By marrying Margaret. In my own tomb I will inter my name first.

_Lady A._ Why then, my lord, pretend you marriage to her? Dissimulation but ties false knots On that straight line, by which you hitherto Have measured 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 To visits and entertainments? Think you, madam, 'Tis not grown public conference? or the favours Which you too prodigally have thrown on Wellborn, Incur not censure?

_Lady A._ I am innocent here; and, on my life, I swear My ends are good.

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

_Lady A._ Affected modesty might deny your suit, But such your honour; I accept it, lord. My tongue unworthy can't belie my heart. I shall attend your lordship. [_Exeunt._