Act 1 — SCENE VI.

A Room in Falso’s House.

Enter Falso and two Suitors.

First Suit. May it please your good worship, master justice——

Fal. Please me and please yourself; that’s my word.

First Suit. The party your worship sent for will by no means be brought to appear.

Fal. He will not? then what would you advise me to do therein?

First Suit. Only to grant your worship’s warrant, which is of sufficient force to compel him.

Fal. No, by my faith, you shall not have me in that trap: am I sworn justice of peace, and shall I give my warrant to fetch a man against his will? why, there the peace is broken. We must do all quietly: if he come, he’s welcome; and as far as I 338can see yet, he’s a fool to be absent,—ay, by this gold is he—which he gave me this morning.

[Aside.

First Suit. Why, but may it please your good worship—

Fal. I say again, please me and please yourself; that’s my word still.

First Suit. Sir, the world esteems it a common favour, upon the contempt of the party, the justice to grant his warrant.

Fal. Ay, ’tis so common, ’tis the worse again; ’twere the better for me ’twere otherwise.

First Suit. I protest, sir, and this gentleman can say as much, it lies upon my half undoing.

Fal. I cannot see yet that it should be so,—I see not a cross ye.^[830] [Aside.

First Suit. I beseech your worship shew me your immediate favour, and accept this small trifle but as a remembrance to my succeeding thankfulness.

Fal. Angels?^[831] I’ll not meddle with them; you give ’em to my wife, not to me.

First Suit. Ay, ay, sir.

Fal. But I pray tell me now, did the party viva voce, with his own mouth, deliver that contempt, that he would not appear, or did you but jest in’t?

First Suit. Jest? no, a’ my troth, sir; such was his insolent answer.

Fal. And do you think it stood with my credit to put up such an abuse? Will he not appear, says he? I’ll make him appear with a vengeance.—Latronello!

339Enter Latronello.

Lat. Does your worship call?

Fal. Draw me a strong-limbed warrant for the gentleman speedily; he will be bountiful to thee.—Go and thank him within.

First Suit. I shall know your worship hereafter.

Fal. Ay, I prithee do. [Exeunt Suitors with ᚳLatronello.] Two angels one party, four another: and I think it a great spark of wisdom and policy, if a man come to me for justice, first to know his griefs by his fees, which be light, and which be heavy; he may counterfeit else, and make me do justice for nothing: I like not that; for when I mean to be just, let me be paid well for’t: the deed so rare purges the bribe.

Enter Furtivo.

How now? what’s the news, thou art come so hastily? how fares my knightly brother?

Fur. Troth, he ne’er fared worse in his life, sir; he ne’er had less stomach to his meat since I knew him.

Fal. Why, sir?

Fur. Indeed he’s dead, sir.

Fal. How, sir?

Fur. Newly deceased, I can assure your worship: the tobacco-pipe new dropt out of his mouth before I took horse; a shrewd sign; I knew then there was no way but one with him; the poor pipe was the last man he took leave of in this world, who fell in three pieces before him, and seemed to mourn inwardly, for it looked as black i’ th’ mouth as my master.

Fal. Would he die so like a politician, and not once write his mind to me?

340Fur. No, I’ll say that for him, sir, he died in the perfect state of memory; made your worship his full and whole executor, bequeathing his daughter, and with her all his wealth, only to your disposition.

Fal. Did he make such a godly end, sayest thou? did he die so comfortably, and bequeath all to me?

Fur. Your niece is at hand, sir, the will, and the witnesses.

Fal. What a precious joy and comfort’s this, that a justice’s brother can die so well, nay, in such a good and happy memory, to make me full executor! Well, he was too honest to live, and that made him die so soon. Now I beshrew my heart, I am glad he’s in heaven, has left all his cares and troubles with me, and that great vexation of telling of money: yet I hope he had so much grace before he died to turn his white money into gold, a great ease to his executor.

Fur. See, here comes your niece, my young mistress, sir.

Enter Niece and two Gentlemen.

Fal. Ah, my sweet niece, let me kiss thee, and drop a tear between thy lips! one tear from an old man is a great matter; the cocks of age are dry. Thou hast lost a virtuous father, to gain a notable uncle.

Niece. My hopes now rest in you next under heaven.

Fal. Let ’em rest, let ’em rest.

First Gent. Sir——

Fal. You’re most welcome ere ye begin, sir.

First Gent. We are both led by oath and dreadful promise,

Made to the dying man at his last sense,

341First to deliver these into your hands,

The sureties and revealers of his state——

[Giving papers.

Fal. Good.

First Gent. With this his only daughter, and your niece,

Whose fortunes are at your disposing set;

Uncle and father are in you both met.

Fal. Good, i’faith; a well-spoken gentleman!

You’re not an esquire, sir?

First Gent. Not, sir.

Fal. Not, sir? more’s the pity; by my faith, better men than you are, but a great many worse: you see I have been a scholar in my time, though I’m a justice now.—Niece, you’re most happily welcome: the charge of you is wholly and solely mine own; and since you are so fortunately come, niece, I’ll rest a perpetual widower.

Niece. I take the meaning chaster than the words:

Yet I hope well of both, since it is thus,

His phrase offends least that’s known humorous.

Fal. [reading the will.] I make my brother, says he, full and whole executor: honestly done of him, i’faith! seldom can a man get such a brother: and here again says he, very virtuously, I bequeath all to him and his disposing. An excellent fellow, a’ my troth! Would you might all die no worse, gentlemen!

Enter Knight and Jeweller’s Wife.

First Gent. But as much better as might be.

Knight. Bless your uprightness, master justice!

Fal. You’re most soberly welcome, sir.—Daughter, you’ve that ye kneel for: rise, salute your weeping cousin.

342Jew. Wife. Weeping, cousin?

Niece. Ay, cousin.

Knight. Eye to weeping is very proper, and so is the party that spake it; believe me, a pretty, fine, slender, straight, delicate-knit body:

O, how it moves a pleasure through our senses!

How small are women’s waists to their expenses!

I cannot see her face, that’s under water yet.

Jew. Wife. News as cold to the heart as an old man’s kindness; my uncle dead!

Niece. I have lost the dearest father!

Fal. [reading the will.] If she marry by your consent, choice, and liking, make her dowry five thousand crowns: hum, five thousand crowns? therefore by my consent she shall ne’er marry; I will neither choose for her, like of it, nor consent to’t. [Aside.

Knight. Now, by the pleasure of my blood, a pretty cousin! I would not care if I were as near kin to her as I have been to her kinswoman. [Aside.

Fal. Daughter, what gentleman might this be?

Jew. Wife. No gentleman, sir; he’s a knight.

Fal. Is he but a knight? troth, I would a’ sworn had been a gentleman, to see, to see, to see.

Jew. Wife. He’s my husband’s own brother, I can tell you, sir.

Fal. Thy husband’s brother? speak certainly, prithee.

Jew. Wife. I can assure you, father, my husband and he have^[833] lain both in one belly.

Fal. I’ll swear then he is his brother indeed, and by the surer side.—I crave hearty pardon, sweet kinsman, that thou hast stood so long unsaluted in the way of kindred:

343Welcome^[834] to my board: I have a bed for thee:

My daughter’s husband’s brother shall command

Keys of my chests and chambers:

I have stable for thy horse, chamber for thyself,

AndAnd a loft above for thy lousy lackey, all fit.

Away with handkerchers, [and] dry up eyes:

At funeral we must cry; now let’s be wise.

[Exeunt all but Knight and Jeweller’s Wife.

Jew. Wife. I told you his affection.

Knight.^[835] It falls sweetly.

Jew. Wife. But here I bar you from all plots to-night,

The time is yet too heavy to be light.

Knight. Why, I’m content; I’ll sleep as chaste as you,

And wager night by night who keeps most true.

Jew. Wife. Well, we shall see your temper.

[Exeunt.