Yet she's so far from sullenness and pride,
That I dare undertake you shall meet from her
A liberal entertainment. I can give you
A catalogue of her suitors' names.
Well. Forbear it,

While I give you good counsel. I am bound to it.

Thy father was my friend; and that affection
I bore to him, in right descends to thee:
Thou art a handsome and a hopeful youth,
Nor will I have the least affront stick on thee,
If I with any danger can prevent it.

Allw. I thank your noble care; but, pray you,

in what

Do I run the hazard?

Well. Art thou not in love? Put it not off with wonder.

Allw. In love, at my years?

Well. You think you walk in clouds, but are transparent.

I have heard all, and the choice that you have made;

And, with my finger, can point out the north star
By which the loadstone of your folly's guided.
And, to confirm this true, what think ye of
Fair Margaret, the only child and heir

Of cormorant Overreach? Dost blush and start,
To hear her only named? Blush at your want
Of wit and reason.

Alla. You are too bitter, sir.

Well. Wounds of this nature are not to be cured

With balms, but corrosives. I must be plain : Art thou scarce manumized from the porter's lodge,

And yet sworn servant to the pantoffie,
And dar'st thou dream of marriage?

True; I must tell you as a friend, and freely,
That, where impossibilities are apparent,
'Tis indiscretion to nourish hopes.

Canst thou imagine (let not self-love blind thee)
That sir Giles Overreach (that to make her great
In swelling titles, without touch of conscience,
Will cut his neighbour's throat, and I hope his
own too)

Will e'er consent to make her thine? Give o'er, And think of some course suitable to thy rank, And prosper in it.

Allw. You have well advised me; But, in the mean time, you, that are so studious Of my affairs, wholly neglect your own. Remember yourself, and in what plight you are. Well. No matter, no matter.

Allw. Yes, 'tis much material:

You know my fortune, and my means; yet something

I can spare from myself, to help your wants.
Well. How's this?

Allw. Nay, be not angry. There's eight pieces, To put you in better fashion.

Well. Money from thee?

From a boy, a stipendiary? one that lives
At the devotion of a step-mother,

And the uncertain favour of a lord?
I'll eat my arms first. Howsoe'er blind fortune
Hath spent the utmost of her malice on me;
Though I am vomited out of an alehouse,
And thus accoutred; know not where to cat,
Or drink, or sleep, but underneath this canopy;
Although I thank thee, I despise thy offer.
And as I, in my madness, broke my state,
Without the assistance of another's brain,
In my right wits I'll piece it; at the worst,
Die thus, and be forgotten.

Allw. A strange humour! [Exeunt severally.

SCENE II.—A Chamber in Lady ALLWORTH'S House.

Enter ORDER, AMBLE, FURNACE, and WATCI

Furn. You think you have spoke wisely, goodman Amble,

My lady's go-before.

Order. Nay, nay, no wrangling.

Furn. Twit me with the authority of the kitchen?

At all hours, and all places, I'll be angry;
And, thus provoked, when I am at my prayers
I will be angry.

Amble. There was no hurt meant.

Amble. In you he lives.

Allw. At once, my thanks to all; This is yet some comfort. Is my lady stirring? Enter the Lady ALLWORTH and Attendants. Order. Her presence answers for us.

Lady. Sort those silks well. I'll take the air alone.

Furn. You air and air;

[Exeunt Attendants.

But will you never taste but spoonmeat more?

be angry.

Order. With whom?

I am angry with my lady.

Watch. Heaven forbid, man!

Order. What cause has she given thee? Furn. Cause enough, master steward: I was entertained by her to please her palate, And, till she forswore eating, I performed it. Now, since our master, noble Allworth, died, Though I crack my brains to find out tempting

sauces,

And raise fortifications in the pastry,
Such as might serve for models in the Low
Countries;

Which if they had been practised at Breda, Spinola might have thrown his cap at it, and ne'er took it

Amble. But you had wanted matter there to

work on.

She keeps her chamber, dines with a panada,
Or water-gruel; my sweat never thought on.

Order. But your art is seen in the dining room.
Furn. By whom?

By such as pretend love to her; but come
To feed upon her. Yet, of all the harpies
That do devour her, I am out of charity

With none so much, as the thin-gutted squire,
That's stolen into commission.

Order. Justice Greedy?

Furn. The same, the same. Meat's cast away upon him:

It never thrives. He holds this paradox,
Who eats not well, can ne'er do justice well.
His stomach's as insatiate as the grave, or strum-
pet's ravenous appetites.

Amble. One knocks.

[ALLWORTH knocks, and enters. Order. Our late young master. Amble. Welcome, sir.

Furn. Your hand:

If you have a stomach, a cold bake-meat's ready.
Order. His father's picture in little.
Furn. We are all your servants.

Lady. And, as I gave directions, if this morning I am visited by any, entertain them As heretofore: but say, in my excuse, I am indisposed.

Order. I shall, madam.

Lady. Do, and leave me.

[Exeunt ORDER, AMBLE, FURNACE, &c.

Nay, stay you, Allworth.

Allw. I shall gladly grow here,

To wait on your commands.
Lady. So soon turned courtier!

Alla. Style not that courtship, madam, which is duty,

Purchased on your part.

Lady. Well, you shall o'ercome;

I'll not contend in words. How is it with
Your noble master?

Allw. Ever like himself;

No scruple lessened in the full weight of ho

nour:

He did command me (pardon my presumption),
As his unworthy deputy, to kiss
Your ladyship's fair hands.

Lady. I am honoured in

His favour to me. Does he hold his purpose
For the Low Countries?

Alla. Constantly, good madam:

But he will, in person, first present his service. Lady. And how approve you of his course?

you are yet,

Like virgin parchment, capable of any
Inscription, vicious or honourable.

I will not force your will, but leave you free
To your own election.

Allw. Any form you please

I will put on but, might I make my choice,
With humble emulation, I would follow
The path my lord marks to me.

Lady. 'Tis well answered,

And I commend your spirit: you had a father, (Blessed be his memory) that some few hours Before the will of Heaven took him from me, Who did commend you, by the dearest ties Of perfect love between us, to my charge: And, therefore, what I speak, you are bound to hear

With such respect as if he lived in me.

He was my husband; and howe'er you are not Son of my womb, you may be of my love,

Provided you deserve it.

Allw. I have found you,

Most honoured madam, the best mother to me;
And with my utmost strength of care and service,
Will labour that you never may repent
Your bounties showered upon me.

Lady. I much hope it.

These were your father's words: If e'er my son
Follow the war, tell him it is a school
Where all the principles, tending to honour,
Are taught, if truly followed: But for such
As repair thither, as a place in which
They do presume they may, with license, practise
Their lusts and riots, they shall never merit
The noble name of soldiers. To dare boldly
In a fair cause, and, for their country's safety,
To run upon the cannon's mouth undaunted;
To obey their leaders, and shun mutinies ;
To bear, with patience, the winter's cold,
And summer's scorching heat, and not to faint,
When plenty of provision fails, with hunger,
Are the essential parts make up a soldier:
Not swearing, dice, or drinking.

Alla. There's no syllable

You speak, but is to me an oracle;
Which but to doubt were impious.
Lady. To conclude;

Beware ill company; for often men

Are like to those with whom they do converse: And from one man I warn you, and that's Wellborn:

Not 'cause he's poor; that rather claims your

pity;

But that he's in his manners so debauched,
And hath to vicious courses sold himself.
'Tis true, your father loved him, while he was
Worthy the loving; but, if he had lived

To have seen him as he is, he had cast him off, you must do.

As

Alla. I shall obey in all things.

Lady. Follow me to my chamber; you shall have gold

To furnish you like my son, and still supplied
As I hear from you.

Allw. I am still your creature.

[Exeunt.

And if you fail to come, you lose the cause. Greedy. Cause me no causes; I'll prove 't, for such a dinner,

We may put off a commission; you shall find it Henrici decimo quarto.

Over. Fie, Master Greedy!

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 even cry now. Do you hear me, Master
Cook?

Send but a corner of that immortal pasty;
And I, in thankfulness, will, by your boy,
Send you a brace of three-pences.

Furn. Will you be so prodigal ?
Over. Remember me to your lady.

Enter WELLBORN.

If ever thou presume to own me more,
I'll have thee caged and whipped.

Greedy. I'll grant the warrant.
Think of pye-corner, Furnace!
[Exeunt OVERREACH, GREEDY, and MARRALL.
Amb. Will you out, sir?

I wonder how you durst creep in.
Ord. This is rudeness
And saucy impudence.

L

Or I shall swoon.

Wom. I begin to faint already.

[Exeunt Waiting-woman and Chambermaid. Furn. Will you know your way y? 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, and cringe;
To carry in a dish, and shift a trencher;
That have not souls only to hope a blessing
Beyond black jacks or flaggons; you that were

born

Or, though it be against my gentler temper,

I shall take order you no more shall be

An eye-sore to me.

Well. Scorn me not, good lady;

But as, in form, you are angelical,

Imitate the heavenly natures, and vouchsafe
At the least a while 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 swelling titles,

Equipage, and fortune; your men's observance,
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
For your late noble husband.

Ord. How she starts!

Furn. And hardly can keep her finger from the eye,

To hear him named.

Lady. Have you aught else to say?

Well. That husband, madam, was once, in his
fortune,

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 relieved him.
'Twas I, that gave him fashion; mine, the sword
That did, on all occasions, second his;

I brought him on and off, with honour, lady:
And when in all men's judgments he was sunk,
And in his own hopes not to be buoyed up,
I stepped 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

Master of your estate; nor could your friends,

Chambermaid.

you for it:

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

Resisted, madam.

Lady. 'Tis most true, he had.

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

Lady. For what's past excuse me;

I will redeem it. Order, give the gentleman
A hundred pounds.

Well. Madam, on no terms:

I will not beg nor borrow sixpence of you ;
But be supplied elsewhere, or want thus ever.
Only one suit I make, which you deny not
To strangers; and 'tis this. [Whispers to her.
Lady. Fie! nothing else?

Well. Nothing; unless you please to charge

your servants

[Exit Lady.