Chapter 6

_Enter_ Constance _and_ Isabella.

_Const_. Twas ill luck to have the meeting broke last night, just as Setstone was coming towards him.

_Isa_. But, in part of recompence, you'll have the pleasure of putting him on farther straits. O, these little mischiefs are meat and drink to me.

_Const_. He shall tell me from whence he has his money: I am resolved now to try him to the utmost.

_Isa_. I would devise something for him to do, which he could not possibly perform.

_Const_. As I live, yonder he comes, with the jewel in his hand he promised me. Pr'ythee, leave me alone with him.

_Isa_. Speed the plough! If I can make no sport, I'll hinder none. I'll to my knight, Sir Timorous; shortly you shall hear news from Dametas[A].

[Footnote A: A foolish character in Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, who seems to have become proverbial.]

[_Exit_ ISABELLA.

_Enter_ LOVEBY.

_Lov_. Look you, madam, here's the jewel; do me the favour to accept it, and suppose a very good compliment delivered with it.

_Const_. Believe me, a very fair jewel. But why will you be at this needless charge? What acknowledgment do you expect? You know I will not marry you.

_Lov_. How the devil do I know that? I do not conceive myself, under correction, so inconsiderable a person.

_Const_. You'll alter your partial opinion, when I tell you, 'tis not a flash of wit fires me, nor is it a gay out-side can seduce me to matrimony.

_Lov_. I am neither fool, nor deformed, so much as to be despicable. What do I want?

_Const_. A good estate, that makes every thing handsome: Nothing can look well without it.

_Lov_. Does this jewel express poverty?

_Const_. I conjure you by your love to me, tell me one truth not minced by your invention, how came you by this jewel?

_Lov_. 'Tis well I have a voucher. Pray ask your own jeweller, Setstone, if I did not buy it of him.

_Const_. How glad you are now, you can tell a truth so near a lie. But where had you the money, that purchased it? Come--without circumstances and preambles--

_Lov_. Umph--Perhaps, that may be a secret.

_Const_. Say, it be one; yet he, that loved indeed, could not keep it from his mistress.

_Lov_. Why should you be thus importunate?

_Const_. Because I cannot think you love me, if you will not trust that to my knowledge, which you conceal from all the world beside.

_Lov_. You urge me deeply--

_Const_. Come, sweet servant, you shall tell me; I am resolved to take no denial. Why do you sigh?

_Lov_. If I be blasted, it must out.

_Const_. Either tell me, or resolve to take your leave for ever.

_Lov_. Then know, I have my means,--I know not how.

_Const_. This is a fine secret.

_Lov_. Why, then, if you will needs know, 'tis from the devil; I have money from him, what, and when I please.

_Const_. Have you sealed a covenant, and given away your soul for money?

_Lov_. No such thing intended on my part.

_Const_. How then?

_Lov_. I know not yet what conditions he'll propose. I should have spoke with him last night, but that a cross chance hindered it.

_Const_. Well, my opinion is, some great lady, that is in love with you, supplies you still; and you tell me an incredible tale of the devil, merely to shadow your infidelity.

_Lov_. Devise some means to try me.

_Const_. I take you at your word. You shall swear freely to bestow on me whatever you shall gain this unknown way; and, for a proof, because you tell me you can have money, what, and when you please, bring me a hundred pounds ere night.--If I do marry him for a wit, I'll see what he can do; he shall have none from me. [_Aside_.

_Lov_. You overjoy me, madam; you shall have it, an 'twere twice as much.

_Const_. How's this?

_Lov_. The devil a cross that I have, or know where to get; but I must promise well, to save my credit.--Now, devil, if thou dost forsake me!

[_Aside_.

_Const_. I mistrust you; and, therefore, if you fail, I'll have your hand to show against you; here's ink and paper. [LOVEBY _writes_.

_Enter_ BURR, _and_ TIMOROUS.

_Burr_. What makes Loveby yonder? He's writing somewhat.

_Tim_. I'll go see. [_Looks over him_.

_Lov_. Have you no more manners than to overlook a man when he's a writing?--Oh! is't you, Sir Timorous? You may stand still; now I think on't, you cannot read written hand.

_Burr_. You are very familiar with Sir Timorous.

_Lov_. So am I with his companions, sir.

_Burr_. Then there's hopes you and I may be better acquainted. I am one of his companions.

_Lov_. By what title? as you are an ass, sir?

_Const_. No more, Loveby.

_Lov_. I need not, madam. Alas! this fellow is only the solicitor of a quarrel, 'till he has brought it to an head; and will leave the fighting part to the courteous pledger. Do not I know these fellows? You shall as soon persuade a mastiff to fasten on a lion, as one of those to engage with a courage above their own: They know well enough whom they can beat, and who can beat them.

_Enter _FAILER _at a distance_.

_Fail_. Yonder they are: Now, would I compound for a reasonable sum, that I were friends with Burr. If I am not, I shall lose Sir Timorous.

_Const_. O, servant, have I spied you? let me run into your arms.

_Fail_. I renounce my lady Constance: I vow to gad, I renounce her.

_Tim_. To your task, Burr.

_Enter NONSUCH and ISABELLA_.

_Const_. Hold, gentlemen! no sign of quarrel.

_Non_. O, friends! I think I shall go mad with grief: I have lost more money.

_Lov_. Would I had it: that's all the harm I wish myself. Your servant, madam; I go about the business.

_Exit LOVEBY_.

_Non_. What! does he take no pity on me?

_Const_. Pr'ythee, moan him, Isabella.

_Isa_. Alas, alas, poor uncle! could they find in their hearts to rob him!

_Non_. Five hundred pounds, out of poor six thousand pounds a-year! I, and mine, are undone for ever.

_Fail_. Your own house, you think, is clear, my lord?

_Const_. I dare answer for all there, as much as for myself.

_Burr_. Oh, that he would but think that Loveby had it!

_Fail_. If you'll be friends with me, I'll try what I can persuade him to.

_Burr_. Here's my hand, I will, dear heart.

_Fail_. Your own house being clear, my lord, I am apt to suspect this Loveby for such a person. Did you mark how abruptly he went out?

_Non_. He did indeed, Mr Failer. But why should I suspect him? his carriage is fair, and his means great; he could never live after this rate, if it were not.

_Fail_. This still renders him the more suspicious: He has no land, to my knowledge.

_Burr_. Well said, mischief. [_Aside_.

_Const_. My father's credulous, and this rogue has found the blind side of him; would Loveby heard him! [_To_ ISABELLA.

_Fail_. He has no means, and he loses at play; so that, for my part, I protest to gad, I am resolved he picks locks for his living.

_Burr_. Nay, to my knowledge, he picks locks.

_Tim_. And to mine.

_Fail_. No longer ago than last night he met me in the dark, and offered to dive into my pockets.

_Non_. That's a main argument for suspicion.

_Fail_. I remember once, when the keys of the Exchequer were lost in the Rump-time, he was sent for upon an extremity, and, egad, he opens me all the locks with the blade-bone of a breast of mutton.

_Non_. Who, this Loveby?

_Fail_. This very Loveby. Another time, when we had sate up very late at ombre in the country, and were hungry towards morning, he plucks me out (I vow to gad I tell you no lie) four ten-penny nails from the dairy lock with his teeth, fetches me out a mess of milk, and knocks me 'em in again with his head, upon reputation.

_Isa_. Thou boy!

_Non_. What shall I do in this case? My comfort is, my gold's all marked.

_Const_. Will you suspect a gentleman of Loveby's worth, upon the bare report of such a rascal as this Failer?

_Non_. Hold thy tongue, I charge thee; upon my blessing hold thy tongue. I'll have him apprehended before he sleeps; come along with me, Mr Failer.

_Fail_. Burr, look well to Sir Timorous; I'll be with you instantly.

_Const_. I'll watch you by your favour. [_Aside. [Exeunt_ NONSUCH _and_ FAILER, CONSTANCE _following them_.

_Isa_. A word, Sir Timorous.

_Burr_. [Gets _behind_.] She shall have a course at the knight, and come up to him, but when she is just ready to pinch, he shall give such a loose from her, shall break her heart.

_Isa_. Burr there still, and watching us? There's certainly some plot in this, but I'll turn it to my own advantage. [_Aside_.

_Tim. Did you mark Burr's retirement, madam?

_Isa_ Ay; his guilt, it seems, makes him shun your company.

_Tim_. In what can he be guilty?

_Isa_. You must needs know it; he courts your mistress.

_Tim_. Is he, too, in love with my lady Constance?

_Isa_. No, no: but, which is worse, he courts me.

_Tim_. Why, what have I to do with you? You know I care not this for you.

_Isa_. Perhaps so; but he thought you did: and good reason for it.

_Tim_. What reason, madam?

_Isa_. The most convincing in the world: He knew my cousin Constance never loved you: He has heard her say, you were as invincibly ignorant as a town-fop judging a new play: as shame-faced as a great overgrown school-boy: in fine, good for nothing but to be wormed out of your estate, and sacrificed to the god of laughter.

_Tim_. Was your cousin so barbarous to say this?

_Isa_. In his hearing.

_Tim_. And would he let me proceed in my suit to her?

_Isa_. For that I must excuse him; he never thought you could love one of my cousin's humour; but took your court to her, only as a blind to your affection for me; and, being possessed with that opinion, he thought himself as worthy as you to marry me.

_Tim_. He is not half so worthy; and so I'll tell him, in a fair way.

_Burr_. [_To a Boy entering_.] Sirrah, boy, deliver this note to madam Isabella; but be not known I am so near.

_Boy_. I warrant you, sir.

_Burr_. Now, Fortune, all I desire of thee is, that Sir Timorous may see it; if he once be brought to believe there is a kindness between her and me, it will ruin all her projects.

_Isa_. [_To the Boy_.] From whom?

_Boy_. From Mr Burr, madam.

_Isa_. [Reads.] _These for Madam Isabella. Dear rogue, Sir Timorous knows nothing of our kindness, nor shall for me; seem still to have designs upon him; it will hide thy affection the better to thy servant,_ BURR.

_Isa_. Alas, poor woodcock, dost thou go a-birding? Thou hast e'en set a springe to catch thy own neck. Look you here, Sir Timorous; here's something to confirm what I have told you. [_Gives him the letter_.

_Tim_. D, e, a, r, _dear_; r, o, g, u, e, _rogue_. Pray, madam, read it; this written hand is such a damned pedantic thing, I could never away with it.

_Isa_. He would fain have robbed you of me: Lord, Lord! to see the malice of a man.

_Tim_. She has persuaded me so damnably, that I begin to think she's my mistress indeed.

_Isa_. Your mistress? why, I hope you are not to doubt that, at this time of day. I was your mistress from the first day you ever saw me.

_Tim_. Nay, like enough you were so; but I vow to gad now, I was wholly ignorant of my own affection.

_Isa_. And this rogue pretends he has an interest in me, merely to defeat you: Look you, look you, where he stands in ambush, like a Jesuit behind a Quaker, to see how his design will take.

_Tim_. I see the rogue: Now could I find in my heart to marry you in spite to him; what think you on't, in a fair way?

_Isa_. I have brought him about as I could wish; and now I'll make my own conditions. [_Aside_.] Sir Timorous, I wish you well; but he I marry must promise me to live at London: I cannot abide to be in the country, like a wild beast in the wilderness, with no Christian soul about me.

_Tim_. Why, I'll bear you company.

_Isa_. I cannot endure your early hunting-matches there; to have my sleep disturbed by break of day, with heigh, Jowler, Jowler! there Venus, ah Beauty! and then a serenade of deep-mouthed curs, to answer the salutation of the huntsman, as if hell were broke loose about me: and all this to meet a pack of gentlemen savages, to ride all day, like mad-men, for the immortal fame of being first in at the hare's death: to come upon the spur, after a trial at four in the afternoon, to destruction of cold meat and cheese, with your lewd company in boots; fall a-drinking till supper time, be carried to bed, tossed out of your cellar, and be good for nothing all the night after.

_Tim_. Well, madam, what is it you would be at? you shall find me reasonable to all your propositions.

_Isa_. I have but one condition more to add; for I will be as reasonable as you; and that is a very poor request--to have all the money in my disposing.

_Tim_. How, all the money?

_Isa_. Ay, for I am sure I can huswife it better for your honour; not but that I shall be willing to encourage you with pocket-money, or so, sometimes.

_Tim_. This is somewhat hard.

_Isa_. Nay, if a woman cannot do that, I shall think you have an ill opinion of my virtue: Not trust your own flesh and blood, Sir Timorous?

_Tim_. Well, is there any thing more behind?

_Isa_. Nothing more, only the choice of my own company, my own hours, and my own actions: These trifles granted me, in all things of moment, I am your most obedient wife and servant, Isabella.

_Tim_. Is't a match, then?

_Isa_. For once I am content it shall; but 'tis to redeem you from those rascals, Burr and Failer--that way, Sir Timorous, for fear of spies; I'll meet you at the garden door.--[_Exit_ TIMOROUS.] I have led all women the way, if they dare but follow me. _And now march off, if I can scape but spying, With my drums beating, and my colours flying_.

[_Exit_.

_Burr_. So, their wooing's at an end; thanks to my wit.

_Enter_ FAILER.

_Fail_. O Burr! whither is it Sir Timorous and Madam Isabella are gone together?

_Burr_. Adore my wit, boy; they are parted, never to meet again.

_Fail_. I saw them meet just now at the garden-door: So ho, ho, ho, who's within there! Help here quickly, quickly.

_Enter_ NONSUCH _and two Servants_.

_Non_. What's the matter?

_Fail_. Your niece Isabella has stolen away Sir Timorous.

_Non_. Which way took they?

_Fail_. Follow me, I'll show you.

_Non_. Break your necks after him, you idle varlets.

[_Exeunt_.