The Scornful Lady Part 21

_Wel._ O my heart!

_Mar._ Help Sister, this Lady swounds.

_Elder Lo._ How do you?

_Wel._ Why very well, if you be so.

_Elder Lo._ Since a quiet mind lives not in any Woman, I shall do a most unG.o.dly thing. Hear me one word more, which by all my hopes I will not alter, I did make an oath when you delai'd me so, that this very night I would be married. Now if you will go without delay, suddenly, as late as it is, with your own Minister to your own Chapel, I'le wed you and to bed.

_Lady._ A match dear servant.

_Elder Lo._ For if you should forsake me now, I care not, she would not though for all her injuries, such is her spirit. If I be not ashamed to kiss her now I part, may I not live.

_Wel._ I see you go, as slily as you think to steal away: yet I will pray for you; all blessings of the world light on you two, that you may live to be an aged pair. All curses on me if I do not speak what I do wish indeed.

_Elder Lo._ If I can speak to purpose to her, I am a villain.

_Lady._ Servant away.

_Mar._ Sister, will you Marry that inconstant man? think you he will not cast you off to morrow, to wrong a Lady thus, lookt she like dirt, 'twas basely done. May you ne're prosper with him.

_Wel._ Now G.o.d forbid. Alas I was unworthy, so I told him.

_Mar._ That was your modesty, too good for him.

I would not see your wedding for a world.

_Lady._ Chuse chuse, come _Younglove_.

[_Exit_ La. Elder Lo. _and_ Young.

_Mar._ Dry up your eyes forsooth, you shall not think we are all such uncivil beasts as these. Would I knew how to give you a revenge.

_Wel._ So would not I: No let me suffer truly, that I desire.

_Mar._ Pray walk in with me, 'tis very late, and you shall stay all night: your bed shall be no worse than mine; I wish I could but do you right.

_Wel._ My humble thanks: G.o.d grant I may but live to quit your love. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Young Loveless _and_ Savil.

_Young Lo._ Did your Master send for me _Savil_?

_Sav._ Yes, he did send for your wors.h.i.+p Sir.

_Young Lo._ Do you know the business?

_Sav._ Alas Sir, I know nothing, nor am imployed beyond my hours of eating. My dancing days are done Sir.

_Young Lo._ What art thou now then?

_Sav._ If you consider me in little, I am with your wors.h.i.+ps reverence Sir, a Rascal: one that upon the next anger of your Brother, must raise a sconce by the high way, and sell switches; my wife is learning now Sir, to weave inkle.

_Young Lo._ What dost thou mean to do with thy Children _Savil_?

_Sav._ My eldest boy is half a Rogue already, he was born bursten, and your wors.h.i.+p knows, that is a pretty step to mens compa.s.sions. My youngest boy I purpose Sir to bind for ten years to a G[ao]ler, to draw under him, that he may shew us mercy in his function.

_Young Lo._ Your family is quartered with discretion: you are resolved to Cant then: where _Savil_ shall your scene lie?

_Sav._ Beggers must be no chusers.

In every place (I take it) but the stocks.

_Young Lo._ This is your drinking, and your whoring _Savil_, I told you of it, but your heart was hardened.

_Sav._ 'Tis true, you were the first that told me of it I do remember yet in tears, you told me you would have Wh.o.r.es, and in that pa.s.sion Sir, you broke out thus; Thou miserable man, repent, and brew three Strikes more in a Hogshead. 'Tis noon e're we be drunk now, and the time can tarry for no man.

_Young Lo._ Y'are grown a bitter Gentleman. I see misery can clear your head better than Mustard, I'le be a sutor for your Keys again Sir.

_Sav._ Will you but be so gracious to me Sir? I shall be bound.

_Young Lo._ You shall Sir To your bunch again, or I'le miss foully.

_Enter_ Morecraft.

_Mor._ Save you Gentleman, save you.

_Young Lo._ Now Polecat, what young Rabets nest have you to draw?

_Mor._ Come, prethee be familiar Knight.

_Young Lo._ Away Fox, I'le send for Terriers for you.

_Mor._ Thou art wide yet: I'le keep thee companie.

_Young Lo._ I am about some business; Indentures, If ye follow me I'le beat you: take heed, A[s] I live I'le cancel your c.o.xcomb.

_Mor._ Thou art cozen'd now, I am no usurer: What poor fellow's this?

_Savil._ I am poor indeed Sir.

_Mor._ Give him mony Knight.

_Young Lo._ Do you begin the offering.

_Mor._ There poor fellow, here's an Angel for thee.

_Young Lo._ Art thou in earnest _Morecraft_?

_Mor._ Yes faith Knight, I'le follow thy example: thou hadst land and thousands, thou spendst, and flungst away, and yet it flows in double: I purchased, wrung, and wierdraw'd, for my wealth, lost, and was cozen'd: for which I make a vow, to trie all the waies above ground, but I'le find a constant means to riches without curses.