Mar. 'Tis fit state, sir.

Over. And therefore, I'H not have a chamber-
maid

That ties her shoes, or any meaner office,
But such whose fathers were right worshipful.
'Tis a rich man's pride! there having ever been
More than a feud, a strange antipathy

Between us and true gentry.

Enter WELLBORN.

Mar. See, who's here, sir!
Over. Hence, monster, prodigy!
Well. Sir, your wife's nephew;

She and my father tumbled in one belly.

Over. Avoid my sight, thy breath's infectious, rogue!

I shun thee as a leprosy, or the plague. Come hither, Marrall; this is the time to work [Exit OVER.

him.

Mar. I warrant you, sir.

Well. By this light, I think he's mad.

Mar. Mad! had you ta'en compassion on yourself,

You long since had been mad.

Well. You have ta'en a course,

Between you and my venerable uncle,

To make me so.

Mar. The more pale-spirited you,

That would not be instructed. I swear deeply

Well. By what?

Mar. By my religion.

Well. Thy religion!

Mar. Why, have you hope ever to eat again? Or drink? or be the master of three farthings? If you like not hanging, drown yourself; take

some course

For your reputation.

Well. 'Twill not do, dear tempter, With all the rhetoric the fiend hath taught you. I am as far as thou art from despair. Nay, I have confidence, which is more than hope, To live, and suddenly, better than ever.

Mar. Ha! ha! these castles you build in the
air,

Will not persuade me, or to give or lend
A token to you.

Well. I'll be more kind to thee.
Come, thou shalt dine with me.
Mar. With you?

Well. Nay, more, dine gratis.

Mar. Under what hedge, I pray you? or at

whose cost?

ther, blanket,

done?

Mar. Had there been but one tree in all the

shire,

Nor any hope to compass a penny halter,
Before, like you, I had outlived my fortunes,
A withe had served my turn to hang myself.
I am zealous in your cause: pray you hang
yourself;

And presently, as you love your credit.
Well. I thank you.

Mar. Will you stay till you die in a ditch?
Or lice devour you?

Or, if you dare not do the feat yourself,

But that you'll put the state to charge and trouble,

Is there no purse to be cut? house to be broken? Or market-woman with eggs that you may murder, And so dispatch the business?

Well. Here's variety,

I must confess; but I'll accept of none Of all your gentle offers, I assure you.

I will endure thy company.

Well. Come along, then.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Hall in Lady ALLWORTH'S

House.

Enter ALLWORTH, ORDER, AMBLE, FURNACE,
Waiting-woman, and Chambermaid.

Wom. Could you not command your leisure
one hour longer?
Cham. Or half an hour?

All. I have told you what my haste is:
Besides, being now another's, not mine own,
Howe'er I much desire to enjoy you longer,
My duty suffers, if, to please myself,
I should neglect my lord.

Wom. Pray you, do me the favour
To put these few quince cakes into your pocket;
They are of mine own preserving.

Cham. And this marmalade; 'Tis comfortable for your stomach.

Wom. Ours waits on you.

Cham. And shall do ever.

Ord. You are my lady's charge, be therefore careful

That you sustain your parts.

Wom. We can bear, I warrant you.

[Exeunt Waiting-wom, and Chamb. Furn. Here, drink it off; the ingredients are cordial,

And this the true elixir; it hath boiled
Since midnight for you. 'Tis the quintessence
Of five cocks of the game, ten dozen of sparrows,
Knuckles of veal, potatoe-roots, and marrow,
Coral, and ambergris: were you two years older,
And I had a wife, or gamesome mistress,

I durst trust you with neither: you need not bait After this, I warrant you, though your journey's long;

You may ride on the strength of this till to-morrow morning.

Alla. Your court'sies o'erwhelm me: I much grieve

To part from such true friends, and yet find

comfort,

Furn. I am glad you are come; until I know your pleasure,

I knew not how to serve up my lady's dinner. Mar. His pleasure! is it possible? [Aside. Well. What's thy will?

Furn. Marry, sir, I have some growse and turkey chicken,

Some rails and quails; and my lady willed me ask you

What kind of sauces best affect your palate,
That I may use my utmost skill to please it.

Mar. The devil's entered this cook: sauce for
his palate!

That, on my knowledge, for almost this twelvemonth,

Durst wish but cheese-parings and brown bread on Sundays!

Well. That way I like them best.
Furn. It shall be done, sir.

[Exit FURN. Well. What think you of the hedge we shall dine under?

Shall we feed gratis?

Mar. I know not what to think:

Pray you, make me not mad,

Enter ORDER.

Ord. This place becomes you not;
Pray you, walk, sir, to the dining-room.
Well. I am well here,

Till her ladyship quits her chamber.
Mar. Well here, say you?

'Tis a rare change! but yesterday you thought
Yourself well in a barn, wrapped up in pease straw.
Ord. Sir, my lady.
[Exit ORDER.

Re-enter Waiting-woman and Chambermaid.
Wom. O! sir, you are wished for.
Cham. My lady dream'd, sir, of you.

Wom. And the first command she gave, after

she rose,

SCENE III.-The Country.
Enter WELLBORN and MARRALL.
Well. I think I am in a good way.

Mar. Good, sir! the best way;

The certain best way.

Well. There are casualties

That men are subject to.

Mar. You are above them:

And as you are already worshipful,

I hope ere long you will increase in worship,
And be right worshipful.

Well. Pr'ythee do not flout me.

What I shall be, I shall be. Is't for your ease,
You keep your hat off?

Mar. Ease, and it like your worship!
I hope Jack Marrall shall not live so long,
To prove himself such an unmannerly beast,
Though it hail hazel nuts, as to be covered
When your worship's present.

[Aside.

Well. Is not this a true rogue,
That, out of mere hope of a future cozenage,
Can turn thus suddenly? tis rank already.
Mar. I know your worship's wise, and needs
no counsel;

Yet if, in my desire to do you service,
I humbly offer my advice, (but still
Under correction) I hope I shall not
Incur your high displeasure.
Well. No; speak freely.

Mar. Then, in my judgment, sir, my simple judgment,

(Still with your worship's favour) I could wish you
A better habit; for this cannot be
But much distasteful to the noble lady

(I say no more) that loves you: for, this morning,
To me, (and I am but a swine to her)
Before the assurance of her wealth perfumed you,
You savoured not of amber.

Well. I do now, then!

Mar. This your batoon hath got a touch of it.- [Kisses the end of his cudgel. Yet, if you please, for change, I have twenty pounds here,

Which, out of my true love, I presently Lay down at your worship's feet: 'twill serve to buy you

A riding-suit.

Well. But where's the horse ?

Mar. My gelding

Is at your service: nay, you shall ride me,
Before your worship shall be put to the trouble
To walk a-foot. Alas! when you are lord
Of this lady's manor, (as I know you will be)
You may with the lease of glebe-land, called
Knaves' Acre,

(A place I would manure) requite your vassal.

Well. I thank thy love; but must make no use of it.

What's twenty pounds?

Mar. 'Tis all that I can make, sir.

Well. Dost thou think, though I want clothes
I could not have them,

For one word to my lady?

Mar. As I know not that!

Well. Come, I'll tell thee a secret, and so leave thee.

I'll not give her the advantage, though she be
A gallant-minded lady, after we are married,
(There being no woman but is sometimes fro-
ward)

To hit me in the teeth, and say she was forced
To buy my wedding-clothes, and took me on
With a plain riding-suit and an ambling nag.
No; I'll be furnished something like myself:
And so farewell. For thy suit, touching Knaves'
Acre,-

When it is mine, 'tis thine.

Mar. I thank your worship. [Exit WELL. How was I cozened in the calculation Of this man's fortune! my master cozened too, Whose pupil I am in the art of undoing men; For that is our profession. Well, well, Master Wellborn,

You are of a sweet nature, and fit again to be

cheated:

Over. How succeed we In our plot on Wellborn?

Mar. Never better, sir.

Over. Has he hanged or drowned himself?
Mar. No, sir, he lives-

Lives once more to be made a prey to you;
A greater prey than ever.

Over. Art thou in thy wits?

If thou art, reveal this miracle, and briefly. Mar. A lady, sir, is fallen in love with him. Over. With him! What lady?

Mar. The rich lady Allworth.

Over. Thou dolt! how dar'st thou speak this? Mar. I speak truth;

And I do so but once a-year, unless

It be to you, sir. We dined with her ladyship, I thank his worship.

Over. His worship!

Mar. As I live, sir,

I dined with him at the great lady's table,

Simple as I stand here; and saw when she kissed him;

And would, at his request, have kissed me too: But I was not so audacious as some youths are, That dare do any thing, be it ne'er so absurd, An sad after performance.

Over. Why, thou rascal,

To tell me these impossibilities!

Die at her table! and kiss him! or thee!
Impudent varlet! Have not I myself,

To whom great countesses' doors have oft flown

open,

Ten times attempted, since her husband's death, In vain to see her, though I came-a suitor ? And yet your good solicitorship, and rogue Well

born,

Were brought into her presence, feasted with her!
But that I know thee a dog that cannot blush,
This most incredible lie would call up one
On thy butter-milk cheeks.

Mar. Shall I not trust my eyes, sir?
Or taste? I feel her good cheer in my belly.
Over. You shall feel me, if you give not over,
sirrah;

Recover your brains again, and be no more gulled
With a beggar's plot, assisted by the aids
Of serving-men and chambermaids; for, beyond
these,

Thou never saw'st a woman; or I'll quit you From my employments.

Mar. Will you credit this yet?

On my confidence of their marriage, I offered Wellborn

(I would give a crown, now, I durst say his worship) [Aside.

My nag, and twenty pounds.

Over. Did you so, idiot? [Strikes him down. Was this the way to work him to despair, Or rather to cross me?

Mar. Will your worship kill me?

Over. No, no; but drive the lying spirit out of you.

Mar. He's

gone.
Over. I have done, then. Now, forgetting
Your late imaginary feast and lady,
Know, my lord Lovell dines with me to-morrow.
Be careful nought be wanting to receive him
And bid my daughter's women trim her up:
Though they paint her, so she catch the lord, I'l
thank them.

There's a piece, for my late blows.
Mar. I must yet suffer:
But there may be a time-
Over. Do you grumble?
Mar. No, sir.

;

[Aside. [Exeunt.

SCENE I.-continued.

Enter LOVELL and ALLWORTH.

Lov. Walk the horses down the hill; some

thing in private

I must impart to Allworth.

Allw. O, my lord!

[Exeunt Servants.

What sacrifice of reverence, duty, watching,
Altho' I could put off the use of sleep,
And ever wait on your commands, to serve them;
What dangers, though in ne'er so horrid shapes,
Nay, death itself, though I should run to meet it,
Can I, and with a thankful willingness, suffer!
But still the retribution will fall short
Of your bounties showered upon me.
Lov. Loving youth,

'Till what I purpose be put into act,

Do not o'er-prize it; since you have trusted me
With your soul's nearest, nay, her dearest secret,
Rest confident, 'tis in a cabinet locked,
Treachery shall never open. I have found you
(For so much to your face I must profess;
Howe'er you guard your modesty with a blush for't,)
More zealous in your love and service to me,
Than I have been in my rewards.

Ailw. Still great ones,

Above my merit.

Lov. Such your gratitude calls them: Nor am I of that harsh and rugged temper

As some great men are taxed with, who imagine

Lov.

Why do you sigh? can you be doubtful of me?

By that fair name I in the wars have purchased,
And all my actions hitherto untainted,

I will not be more true to mine own honour,
Than to my Allworth.

Allw. As you are the brave lord Lovell,
Your bare word only given, is an assurance
Of more validity and weight to me,

Than all the oaths, bound up with imprecations, Which, when they would deceive, most courtiers practise;

Yet being a man-for, sure, to style you more,