Act 5 — SCENE II.
Reading edition
Enter two or three, setting three or four chairs and four or five stools. Loud music; in which time enter Sir John Worldly, Sir Innocent, Bellafront, Lucida, Kate, my Lady Ninny, Mistress Wagtail. They seat themselves. Lady Ninny offers at two or three chairs; at last finds the great one; they point at her and laugh. As soon as she is set, she drinks of her bottle. The music plays, and they enter. After one strain of the music, Scudmore takes Bellafront, who seems unwilling to dance. Count takes Lucida; Pendant, Kate; Sir Abraham, Mistress Wagtail: Scudmore, as they stand (the other courting too), whispers as follows:—
Scud. I am your Scudmore. [Soft music. Bel. Ha! Scud. By heaven, I am. Be rul'd by me in all things.
Bel. Even to death.
Abra. 'Sfoot! Did you not know me by my purse?
Wag. I should ne'er have known you by that, for you wear it on your head, and other folks in their pockets.
L. Nin. Which is my lord, I pray?
Sir J. Wor. The second man: Young Nevill leads.
Sir Inn And where's Sir Abraham?
Sir J. Wor. He with the terrible visage.
L. Nin. Now, out upon him to disfigure himself so: And 'twere not for my bottle, I should swoon.
[Music, and they dance the second strain, in which Scudmore goes away with Bellafront.
Omnes Spectatores. Good, very good!
[The other four dance another strain, honourand end.
C. Fred. But where's the bride and Nevill?
Omnes. Ha!
Abra. 'Ware tricks!
Sir J. Wor. O, there they come: it was their parts to do so.
Enter Scudmore unvizarded, Bellafront, with pistols and the right Parson.
C. Fred. This Nevill? This is Scudmore.
Omnes. How?
C. Fred. But here's my lady.
Scud. No, my gentlewoman.
Abra. 'Zoons! treason! I smell powder.
Bel. In short, know, That I am married to this gentleman, To whom I was contracted long ago. This priest the inviolable knot hath tied. What ease I find being unladified! [Aside.]
C. Fred. What riddle's this?
Sir Inn. 'Ware the last statute of two husbands.
Scud. and Bel. Pish!
C. Fred. This is the very priest that married me: Is it not, sister?
Enter Nevill, like the Parson too.
Nev. No.
Abra. Lord bless us! here is conjuring! Lend me your aqua-vitæ bottle, good mother. Sir J. Wor. Heyday! The world's turn'd upside down. I have heard and seen Two or three benefices to one priest, or more, But two priests to one benefice ne'er before.
Pen. Married not you the earl?
Par. Bona fide, no.
Sir J. Wor. You did, then?
Nev. Yes.
C. Fred. I have the privilege, then?
Sir J. Wor. Right, you were married first.
Scud. Sir John, you doat, This is a devil in a parson's coat. [Nevill puts off the Priest's weeds, and has a devil's robe under. Omnes. A pretty emblem! Nev. Who married her, or would have caus'd her marry, To any man but this, no better was; Let circumstances be examined. Yet here's one more: and now I hope you all Perceive my marrying not canonical. [Slips off his devil's weeds.
Omnes. Nevill, whoop!
C. Fred. Heart! what a deal of knavery a priest's cloak can hide. If it be not one of the honestest, friendliest cozenages that 'ere I saw, I am no lord.
Kath. Life! I am not married, then, in earnest.
Nev. So, Mistress Kate, I kept you for myself.
Sir J. Wor. It boots not to be angry.
Sir Inn. and Lady. No, faith, Sir John.
Enter Strange, with Pouts on his back.
2d. Ser. Whither will you go with your calf on your back, sir?
Sir J. Wor. Now, more knavery yet?
Strange. Prythee, forbear, or I shall do thee mischief. By your leave, here is some sad to your merriment. Know you this captain?
Omnes. Yes, very well.
Kath. O sister, here's the villain slander'd me.
Strange. You see he cannot stand to't.
Abra. Is he hurt in the arm, too?
Strange. Yes.
Abra. Why, then, by God's-lid, thou art a base rogue. I knew I should live to tell thee so.
L. Nin. Sir Abraham, I say!
Omnes. Heaven is just.
Capt. Pouts. What a rogue are you! Is this the surgeon you would carry me to?
Strange. Confess your slander, and I will, I swear.
Capt. Pouts. Nay, 'tis no matter, I'll cry quittance with you. Forgive me, Mistress Kate, and know, all people, I lied not with her, but belied her once; And to my recantation that same soldier Enforc'd my hand. Strange. Yes, here 'tis, Mistress Kate. [They all look on the paper. Capt. Pouts. I see now how I am cheated. Love him well. He has redeem'd your honour with his sword. Sir J. Wor. But where is Strange my son? O, were he here, He should be married new to make all sure.
Kath. O my divining spirit, he's gone to sea!
Capt. Pouts. This cunning in her is exceeding good. Your son—your husband Strange is murdered.
Omnes. How?
Strange. Peace, peace! For heaven's sake, peace! Come, sir, I'll carry you to a surgeon. Here's gold to stop thy throat. For God's sake, peace! Capt. Pouts. Sirrah, you have brought me to a surgeon already: I'll be even with you. Kath. Of all men living I could marry thee, Were not my heart given to another man. Sir, you did speak of Strange? Capt. Pouts. These women are as crafty as the devil. Yes, I did speak of him: Sir John, my lord, Know Strange is murder'd by that villain's hand, And by his wife's consent.
Omnes. How?
Sir J. Wor. God forbid!
Capt. Pouts. Search presently the closet and the vault, There you shall find his body: 'tis too true. The reason all may guess: her husband, wanting Spirit to do on me what he hath done, In hope to marry her, he hath murder'd him. Kath. To marry me! No, villain: I do hate him On this report worse than I do thyself; And may the plagues and tortures of a land Seize me if this be not an innocent hand. Sir J. Wor. 'Fore God, 'tis most like truth. Son Scudmore, pray Look to this fellow: gentlemen, assist. Torches! some torches! I'll go search myself.
Sir Inn. I will assist you.
C. Fred. But I pray, sir, how came you unto this knowledge?
Capt. Pouts. From his mouth.
Strange. I'll save your labour, and discover all. Thou perjur'd villain, didst not swear thou wouldst not Discover me? Capt. Pouts. I but swore in jest. Strange. Nay, but remember, thou didst wish Strange living, If ever thou didst tell. Capt. Pouts. Sir, all is true,[64] And would my punishment would ease my conscience. Sir J. Wor. To Newgate with him! hence! take her along. Out, murderers! whore, thou art no child of mine! Fetch constable and officers. Away!
Strange. Sir, do but hear me speak.
Sir J. Wor. Fetch officers!
Capt. Pouts. Go fetch a surgeon.
Strange. Sir, you are then too violent. I will bail her. [Discovers himself.
Kath. O my dear Strange!
Sir J. Wor. My son!
Scud., Luc., Bel. Brother!
Omnes. Young Strange!
Capt. Pouts. Heart! I was never sick before: help me now to a surgeon, or I shall swoon instantly. [As two lead him, he speaks. Thou wert born a woman-citizen; fare thee well. And farewell, love and women, ye diseases: My horse and sword shall be my mistresses, My horse I'll court, my sword shall lie with me. [Exit.
Strange. The way to cure lust is to bleed, I see.
C. Fred. Tell him all, Scudmore, whilst I go a-wooing again. Sir John, will you go along, and my two worshipful elders, I pray, be your witnesses. Priest, go not you away. Heart! I have so ruminated on a wife, that I must have one this night, or I shall run proud.[65]
[Nevill, Scudmore, Bellafront, Strange, Katherine, whisper in one part. Pendant, Sir Abraham, and Wagtail in another.
Mistress Lucida, you did once love me; if you do still, no more words, but give me your hand. Why are ye doubtful?
Abra. Ne'er look upon me, Mistress Lucida; time was, time is, and time's pass'd. I'll none of you now: I am otherwise provided.
Pen. Well spoken, brazen-head![66] now or never, Sir Abraham.
Abra. Then first, as duty binds, I crave consent Of my two parents dear: if ay, say so; If not, I'll ha' her, whether you will or no.
Sir Inn. How? how?
L. Nin. I hope you will not.
Abra. Ma'am, I am resolved: you have a humour of your aqua-vitæ bottle, why should not I have a humour in a wife?
Sir J. Wor. An old man were a fitter match for her: He would make much of her.
Abra. Much on her? I know not what ye call much making on her, I am sure I have made two on her.
Pen. And that an old man cannot do, I hope.
Nev. O thou beyond Lawrence of Lancashire.[67]
Sir Inn. Come, come, you shall not.
Abra. Speak not in vain; I am too sure to change, For hand and heart are sure: Ecce signum. And this have I done, and never lay with her. Sir J. Wor. Nay, then, 'tis too late; 'Tis sure: 'tis vain to cross the will of fate. Sir Inn. and LADY. Well, well, God bless you. [Abraham and Wagtail kneel. Abra. Thanks, reverend couple, and God bless withal The little Ninny that herein doth sprawl. Parson, you shall despatch us presently: Lord, how soberly you stand!
Par. Now truly I could ne'er stand drunk in my life.
Strange. Strange and most fortunate, we must have a new Tuck then.
C. Fred. Is it a match?
Luc. 'Tis done.
C. Fred. Then Bacchus squeeze grapes with a plenteous hand. Parson, you'll take some pains with us to-night. Come, brothers, come: fly, willow, to the woods, And, like the sea, for healths let's drink whole floods. Strange. I consecrate my deed unto the city, And hope to live myself to see the day, It shall be shown to people in a play. Scud. And may all true love have like happy end. Women, forgive me; men, admire my friend. Sir J. Wor. On, parson, on; and, boy, outvoice the music.[68] Ne'er was so much (what cannot heavenly powers?) Done and undone, and done in twelve short hours, [Exeunt.