Act 1 — Scene I.[3504]

De Gard. Sirrah, you know I have rid hard; stir my horse well, And let him want no litter. F. Boy. I am sure I have run hard; Would somebody would walk me, and see me litter’d, For I think my fellow-horse cannot in reason5 Desire more rest, nor take up his chamber before me: But we are the beasts now, and the beasts are our masters. De Gard. When you have done, step to the ten-crown ordinary—— F. Boy. With all my heart, sir; for I have a twenty-crown stomach. De Gard. And there bespeak a dinner. F. Boy. [going.] Yes, sir, presently.[3505]10 De Gard. For whom, I beseech you, sir? F. Boy. For myself, I take it, sir. De Gard. In truth, you shall not take it; ’t is not meant for you. There’s for your provender. [Gives money.] Bespeak a dinner For Monsieur Mirabel and his companions; They’ll be in town within this hour. When you have done, sirrah,15 Make ready all things at my lodging for me, And wait me there. F. Boy. The ten-crown ordinary? De Gard. Yes, sir, if you have not forgot it. F. Boy. I’ll forget my feet first: ’T is the best part of a footman’s faith. Exit. De Gard. These youths,20 For all they have been in Italy to learn thrift, And seem to wonder at men’s lavish ways, Yet they cannot rub off old friends, their French itches; They must meet sometimes to disport their bodies With good wine and good women, and good store too.25 Let ’em be what they will, they are arm’d at all points, And then hang saving, let the sea grow high! This ordinary can fit ’em of all sizes. Enter La Castre and Oriana. They must salute their country with old customs. Ori. Brother! De Gard. My dearest sister! Ori. Welcome, welcome!30 Indeed, ye are welcome home, most welcome! De Gard. Thank ye. You are grown a handsome woman, Oriana (Blush at your faults): I am wondrous glad to see ye.— Monsieur La Castre, let not my affection To my fair sister make me be held unmannerly. I am glad to see ye well, to see ye lusty,36 Good health about ye, and in fair company; Believe me, I am proud—— La Cast. Fair sir, I thank ye. Monsieur De Gard, you are welcome from your journey; Good men have still good welcome. Give me your hand, sir,40 Once more, you are welcome home. You look still younger. De Gard. Time has no leisure to look after us; We wander every where; Age cannot find us. La Cast. And how does all? De Gard. All well, sir, and all lusty. La Cast. I hope my son be so. I doubt not, sir,45 But you have often seen him in your journeys, And bring me some fair news. De Gard. Your son is well, sir. And grown a proper gentleman; he is well and lusty. Within this eight hours I took leave of him, And over-hied him, having some slight business That forc’d me out o’ th’ way. I can assure you,51 He will be here to-night. La Cast. Ye make me glad, sir, For, o’ my faith, I almost long to see him. Methinks, he has been away—— De Gard. ’T is but your tenderness. What are three years? A love-sick wench will allow it.55 His friends that went out with him are come back too, Belleur and young Pinac. He bid me say little, Because he means to be his own glad messenger. La Cast. I thank ye for this news, sir. He shall be welcome, And his friends too; indeed, I thank you heartily.60 And how (for I dare say you will not flatter him) Has Italy wrought on him? Has he mew’d[3506] yet His wild fantastic toys? They say that climate Is a great purger of those humorous fluxes. How is he improved, I pray ye? De Gard. No doubt, sir, well;65 H’as borne himself a full and noble gentleman: To speak him farther is beyond my charter. La Cast. I am glad to hear so much good. Come, I see You long to enjoy your sister; yet I must entreat ye, Before I go, to sup with me to-night,70 And must not be deni’d. De Gard. I am your servant. La Cast. Where you shall meet fair, merry, and noble company; My neighbour Nantolet and his two fair daughters. De Gard. Your supper’s season’d well, sir; I shall wait upon ye. La Cast. Till then I ’ll leave ye; and y’ are once more welcome.75 Exit. De Gard. I thank ye, noble sir! Now, Oriana, How have ye done since I went? Have ye had your health well? And your mind free? Ori. You see, I am not bated; Merry, and eat my meat. De Gard. A good preservative. And how have you been us’d? You know, Oriana,80 Upon my going out, at your request, I left your portion in La Castre’s hands, The main means you must stick to. For that reason, And ’t is no little one, I ask ye, sister, With what humanity he entertains ye,85 And how ye find his courtesy? Ori. Most ready. I can assure you, sir, I am us’d most nobly. De Gard. I am glad to hear it; but, I prithee, tell me And tell me true, what end had you, Oriana, In trusting your money here? He is no kinsman,90 Nor any tie upon him of a guardian; Nor dare I think ye doubt my prodigality. Ori. No, certain, sir; none of all this provoked[3507] me; Another private reason. De Gard. ’Tis not private, Nor carried so; ’t is common, my fair sister; Your love to Mirabel: your blushes tell it.96 ’Tis too much known, and spoken of too largely; And with no little shame I wonder at it. Ori. Is it a shame to love? De Gard. To love undiscreetly: A virgin should be tender of her honour,100 Close, and secure. Ori. I am as close as can be, And stand upon as strong and honest guards too; Unless this warlike age need a portcullis: Yet I confess, I love him. De Gard. Hear the people. Ori. Now, I say, hang the people! He that dares105 Believe what they say dares be mad, and give His mother, nay, his own wife, up to rumour. All grounds of truth they build on is a tavern, And their best censure’s sack, sack in abundance;109 For, as they drink, they think: they ne’er speak modestly, Unless the wine be poor, or they want money. Believe them! Believe Amadis de Gaul, The Knight o’ the Sun, or Palmerin of England; For these, to them, are modest and true stories. Pray, understand me; if their tongues be truth, And if in vino veritas be an oracle,116 What woman is, or has been ever, honest? Give ’em but ten round cups, they’ll swear Lucretia Died not for want of power to resist Tarquin, But want of pleasure, that he stay’d no longer; And Portia, that was famous for her piety121 To her lov’d lord, they ’ll face ye out, died o’ th’ pox. De Gard. Well, there is something, sister. Ori. If there be, brother, ’T is none of their things; ’t is not yet so monstrous: My thing is marriage; and, at his return,125 I hope to put their squint eyes right again. De Gard. Marriage? ’T is true his father is a rich man, Rich both in land and money; he his heir, A young and handsome man, I must confess, too; But of such qualities, and such wild flings,130 Such admirable imperfections, sister, (For all his travel and bought experience,) I should be loth to own him for my brother. Methinks, a rich mind in a state indifferent Would prove the better fortune. Ori. If he be wild,135 The reclaiming him to good and honest, brother, Will make much for my honour; which, if I prosper, Shall be the study of my love, and life too. De Gard. Ye say well; would he thought as well, and loved too! He marry! He’ll be hanged first. He knows no more140 What the conditions and the ties of love are, The honest purposes and grounds of marriage, Nor will know, nor be ever brought t’ endeavour, Than I do how to build a church. He was ever A loose and strong defier of all order;145 His loves are wanderers, they knock at each door, And taste each dish, but are no residents. Or say, he may be brought to think of marriage, (As ’t will be no small labour), thy hopes are strangers.149 I know there is a labour’d match now follow’d, Now at this time, for which he was sent for home too. Be not abus’d:[3508] Nantolet has two fair daughters, And he must take his choice. Ori. Let him take freely. For all this I despair not: my mind tells me That I, and only I, must make him perfect;155 And in that hope I rest. De Gard. Since y’ are so confident, Prosper your hope! I’ll be no adversary; Keep yourself fair and right, he shall not wrong ye. Ori. When I forget my virtue, no man know me! Exeunt.