Act 5 — [Scene III.][2886]

Old Mount. You say my nephew is in great distress; Who brought it to him but his own lewd life? I cannot spare a cross. I must confess, He was my brother’s son; why, niece, what then? This is no world in which to pity men.5 Susan. I was not born a beggar, though his extremes Enforce this language from me. I protest No fortune of mine own could lead my tongue To this base key. I do beseech you, uncle, For the name’s sake, for Christianity,—10 Nay, for God’s sake, to pity his distress. He is deni’d the freedom of the prison, And in the hole is laid with men condemn’d; Plenty he hath of nothing but of irons, And it remains in you to free him thence.15 Old Mount. Money I cannot spare; men should take heed. He lost my kindred when he fell to need. Exit. Susan. Gold is but earth; thou earth enough shalt have, When thou hast once took measure of thy grave. You know me, Master Sandy, and my suit.20 Sandy. I knew you, lady, when the old man liv’d; I knew you ere your brother sold his land. Then you were Mistress Sue, trick’d up in jewels; Then you sung well, play’d sweetly on the lute; But now I neither know you nor your suit.25 [Exit.] Susan. You, Master Roder, was my brother’s tenant; Rent-free he plac’d you in that wealthy farm, Of which you are possest. Roder. True, he did; And have I not there dwelt still for his sake? I have some business now; but, without doubt, They that have hurl’d him in, will help him out. 31 Exit. Susan. Cold comfort still. What say you, cousin Tidy? Tidy. I say this comes of roysting,[2887] swagg’ring. Call me not cousin; each man for himself! Some men are born to mirth, and some to sorrow:35 I am no cousin unto them that borrow. Exit. Susan. O Charity, why art thou fled to heaven, And left all things [up]on this earth uneven? Their scoffing answers I will ne’er return, But to myself his grief in silence mourn.40

Sir F. She is poor, I’ll therefore tempt her with this gold. Go, Malby, in my name deliver it, And I will stay thy answer. Mal. Fair mistress, as I understand your grief Doth grow from want, so I have here in store A means to furnish you, a bag of gold,46 Which to your hands I freely tender you. Susan. I thank you, Heavens! I thank you, gentle sir: God make me able to requite this favour! Mal. This gold Sir Francis Acton sends by me,50 And prays you—— Susan. Acton? O God! That name I’m born to curse. Hence, bawd; hence, broker! See, I spurn his gold. My honour never shall for gain be sold. Sir F. Stay, lady, stay! Susan. From you I’ll posting hie,55 Even as the doves from feather’d eagles fly. Exit. Sir F. She hates my name, my face; how should I woo? I am disgrac’d in every thing I do. The more she hates me, and disdains my love, The more I am rapt in admiration60 Of her divine and chaste perfections. Woo her with gifts I cannot, for all gifts Sent in my name she spurns; with looks I cannot, For she abhors my sight; nor yet with letters, For none she will receive. How then? how then? Well, I will fasten such a kindness on her,66 As shall o’ercome her hate and conquer it. Sir Charles, her brother, lies in execution For a great sum of money; and, besides, The appeal is sued still for my huntsmen’s death,70 Which only I have power to reverse. In her I’ll bury all my hate of him.— Go seek the Keeper, Malby, bring him to me! To save his body, I his debts will pay;74 To save his life, I his appeal will stay. [Exeunt.]