Act 2 — Scene III.[4058]

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 ’em; And as you are already worshipful, I hope ere long you will increase in worship,5 And be right worshipful. Well. Prithee do not flout me: What I shall be, I shall be. Is ’t for your ease, You keep your hat off? Mar. Ease! an it like your worship! I hope Jack Marrall shall not live so long, To prove himself such an unmannerly beast,10 Though it hail hazel-nuts, as to be cover’d When your worship ’s present. Well. (Aside.) Is not this a true rogue, That, out of mere hope of a future coz’nage,[4059] Can turn thus suddenly? ’T is rank already. Mar. I know your worship’s wise, and needs no counsel,15 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,20 (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,25 Before th’ assurance of her wealth perfum’d you, You savour’d not of amber.[4060] 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 ’ll presently30 Lay down at your worship’s feet; ’t will 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 afoot. Alas, when you are lord35 Of this lady’s manor, as I know you will be, You may with the lease of glebe land, called Knave’s-acre, A place I would manure,[4061] requite your vassal. Well. I thank thy love, but must make no use of it; What ’s twenty pounds? Mar. ’T is all that I can make, sir.40 Well. Dost thou think, though I want clothes, I could not have ’em, For one word to my lady? Mar. As I know not that! Well. Come, I will tell thee a secret, and so leave thee. I will not give her the advantage, though she be A gallant-minded lady, after we are married,45 (There being no woman but is sometimes froward,) To hit me in the teeth, and say, she was forc’d To buy my wedding-clothes, and took me on With a plain riding-suit, and an ambling nag. No, I ’ll be furnish’d something like myself,50 And so farewell: for thy suit touching Knave’s-acre, When it is mine, ’t is thine. Mar. I thank your worship. Exit Well. How was I cozen’d[4062] in the calculation Of this man’s fortune! My master cozen’d too, Whose pupil I am in the art of undoing men;55 For that is our profession! Well, well, Master Wellborn, You are of a sweet nature, and fit again to be cheated: Which, if the Fates please, when you are possess’d Of the land and lady, you, sans question, shall be. I ’ll presently think of the means. Walks by, musing.

Over. Sirrah, take my horse,60 I ’ll walk to get me an appetite; ’t is but a mile, And exercise will keep me from being pursy.[4063] Ha! Marrall! Is he conjuring? Perhaps The knave has wrought the prodigal to do Some outrage on himself, and now he feels65 Compunction in his conscience for ’t: no matter. So it be done. Marrall! Mar. Sir. Over. How succeed we In our plot on Wellborn? Mar. Never better, sir. Over. Has he hang’d or drown’d himself? Mar. No, sir, he lives; Lives once more to be made a prey to you,70 A greater prey than ever. Over. Art thou in thy wits? If thou art, reveal this miracle, and briefly. Mar. A lady, sir, is fall’n 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;75 And I do so but once a year, unless It be to you, sir. We din’d with her ladyship, I thank his worship. Over. His worship! Mar. As I live, sir, I din’d with him, at the great lady’s table, Simple as I stand here; and saw when she kiss’d him,80 And would, at his request, have kiss’d me too: But I was not so audacious as some youths are, That dare do anything, be it ne’er so absurd, And sad after performance. Over. Why, thou rascal! To tell me these impossibilities.85 Dine at her table! and kiss him! or thee!—— Impudent varlet, have not I myself, To whom great countesses’ doors have oft flew 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 Wellborn,91 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 buttermilk cheeks. Mar. Shall I not trust my eyes, sir,95 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 gull’d With a beggar’s plot, assisted by the aids Of serving-men and chambermaids, for beyond these100 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 offer’d Wellborn—— (Aside.) I would give a crown now I durst say “his worship”—— My nag and twenty pounds. Over. Did you so, idiot! (Strikes him down.) Was this the way to work him to despair,106 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,110 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 ’ll thank them. There ’s a piece for my late blows. Mar. (Aside.) I must yet suffer:115 But there may be a time—— Over. Do you grumble? Mar. No, sir. [Exeunt.]