Act 5 — [Scene I.][2888]

Sir C. Of all on the earth’s face most miserable, Breathe in this hellish dungeon thy laments! Thus like a slave ragg’d, like a felon gyv’d,— That hurls thee headlong to this base estate. Oh, unkind uncle! Oh, my friends ingrate!5 Unthankful kinsmen! Mountford’s all too base, To let thy name be fetter’d in disgrace, A thousand deaths here in this grave I die; Fear, hunger, sorrow, cold, all threat my death, And join together to deprive my breath.10 But that which most torments me, my dear sister Hath left[2889] to visit me, and from my friends Hath brought no hopeful answer; therefore, I Divine they will not help my misery. If it be so, shame, scandal, and contempt15 Attend their covetous thoughts; need make their graves! Usurers they live, and may they die like slaves!

Keep. Knight, be of comfort, for I bring thee freedom From all thy troubles. Sir C. Then, I am doom’d to die: Death is the end of all calamity.20 Keep. Live! Your appeal is stay’d; the execution Of all your debts discharg’d; your creditors Even to the utmost penny satisfied. In sign whereof your shackles I knock off. You are not left so much indebted to us25 As for your fees; all is discharg’d; all paid. Go freely to your house, or where you please; After long miseries, embrace your ease. Sir C. Thou grumblest out the sweetest music to me That ever organ play’d.—Is this a dream?30 Or do my waking senses, apprehend The pleasing taste of these applausive[2890] news? Slave that I was, to wrong such honest friends, My loving kinsman, and my near allies!34 Tongue, I will bite thee for the scandal breath’d Against such faithful kinsmen; they are all Compos’d of pity and compassion, Of melting charity and of moving ruth. That which I spoke before was in my rage; They are my friends, the mirrors of this age;40 Bounteous and free. The noble Mountford’s race Ne’er bred a covetous thought, or humour base.

Susan. I cannot longer stay from visiting My woful brother. While I could, I kept My hapless tidings, from his hopeful ear.45 Sir C. Sister, how much am I indebted to thee And to thy travail! Susan. What, at liberty? Sir C. Thou seest I am, thanks to thy industry. Oh! Unto which of all my courteous friends Am I thus bound? My uncle Mountford, he50 Even of an infant lov’d me; was it he? So did my cousin Tidy; was it he? So Master Roder, Master Sandy, too. Which of all these did this high kindness do? Susan. Charles, can you mock me in your poverty,55 Knowing your friends deride your misery? Now, I protest I stand so much amaz’d, To see your bonds free, and your irons knock’d off, That I am rapt into a maze of wonder; The rather for I know not by what means60 This happiness hath chanc’d. Sir C. Why, by my uncle, My cousins, and my friends; who else, I pray, Would take upon them all my debts to pay? Susan. Oh, brother! they are men [made] all of flint, Pictures of marble, and as void of pity65 As chased bears. I begg’d, I sued, I kneel’d, Laid open all your griefs and miseries, Which they derided; more than that, deni’d us A part in their alliance; but, in pride, Said that our kindred with our plenty died.70 Sir C. Drudges too much,[2891]—what did they? Oh, known evil! Rich fly the poor, as good men shun the devil. Whence should my freedom come? Of whom alive, Saving of those, have I deserv’d go well? Guess, sister, call to mind, remember me!75 These have I rais’d, they follow the world’s guise, Whom rich [they][2892] honour, they in woe despise. Susan. My wits have lost themselves; let’s ask the keeper! Sir C. Gaoler! Keep. At hand, sir.80 Sir C. Of courtesy resolve me one demand! What was he took the burden of my debts From off my back, staid my appeal to death, Discharg’d my fees, and brought me liberty? Keep. A courteous knight, one call’d Sir Francis Acton.85 Sir C. Ha! Acton! Oh me! More distress’d in this Than all my troubles! Hale me back, Double my irons, and my sparing meals Put into halves, and lodge me in a dungeon More deep, more dark, more cold, more comfortless!90 By Acton freed! Not all thy manacles Could fetter so my heels, as this one word Hath thrall’d my heart; and it must now lie bound In more strict prison than thy stony gaol. I am not free, I go but under bail.95 Keep. My charge is done, sir, now I have my fees. As we get little, we will nothing leese.[2893] Sir C. By Acton freed, my dangerous opposite! Why, to what end? On what occasion? Ha! Let me forget the name of enemy,100 And with indifference balance[2894] this high favour! Ha! Susan. [Aside.] His love to me, upon my soul, ’t is so! That is the root from whence these strange things grow. Sir C. Had this proceeded from my father, he That by the law of Nature is most bound106 In offices of love, it had deserv’d My best employment to requite that grace. Had it proceeded from my friends, or him,109 From them this action had deserv’d my life,— And from a stranger more, because from such There is less execution[2895] of good deeds. But he, nor father, nor ally, nor friend, More than a stranger, both remote in blood, And in his heart oppos’d my enemy,115 That this high bounty should proceed from him,— Oh! there I lose myself. What should I say, What think, what do, his bounty to repay? Susan. You wonder, I am sure, whence this strange kindness Proceeds in Acton; I will tell you, brother.120 He dotes on me, and oft hath sent me gifts, Letters, and tokens; I refus’d them all. Sir C. I have enough, though poor: my heart is set, In one rich gift to pay back all my debt. Exeunt.