ENTER
FRANKFORD.
FRANKFORD.
How happy am I amongst other men,
That in my mean estate embrace content!
I am a gentleman, and by my birth,
Companion with a king; a king’s no more.
I am possessed of many fair revenues,
Sufficient to maintain a gentleman.
Touching my mind, I am studied in all arts;
The riches of my thoughts, and of my time,
Have been a good proficient; but the chief
Of all the sweet felicities on earth,
I have a fair, a chaste, and loving wife;
Perfection all, all truth, all ornament:
If man on earth may truly happy be,
Of these at once possessed, sure I am he.
ENTER
NICHOLAS.
NICHOLAS.
Sir, there’s a gentleman attends without
To speak with you.
FRANKFORD.
On horseback?
NICHOLAS.
Yes, on horseback.
FRANKFORD.
Entreat him to alight, I will attend him.
Know’st thou him, Nick?
NICHOLAS.
Know him! yes, his name’s Wendoll:
It seems he comes in haste: his horse is booted
Up to the flank in mire, himself all spotted
And stained with plashing. Sure he rid in fear,
Or for a wager: horse and man both sweat;
I ne’er saw two in such a smoking heat.
FRANKFORD.
Entreat him in: about it instantly. [Exit
NICHOLAS.
This Wendoll I have noted, and his carriage
Hath pleased me much: by observation
I have noted many good deserts in him:
He’s affable, and seen[15] in many things,
Discourses well, a good companion;
And though of small means, yet a gentleman
Of a good house, though somewhat pressed by want:
I have preferred him to a second place
In my opinion, and my best regard.
ENTER WENDOLL, MISTRESS FRANKFORD, AND
NICHOLAS.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
O Master Frankford, Master Wendoll here
Brings you the strangest news that e’er you heard.
FRANKFORD.
What news, sweet wife? What news, good Master Wendoll?
WENDOLL.
You knew the match made ’twixt Sir Francis Acton
And
Sir Charles Mountford.
FRANKFORD.
True, with their hounds and hawks.
WENDOLL.
The matches were both played.
FRANKFORD.
Ha! and which won?
WENDOLL.
Sir Francis, your wife’s brother, had the worst,
And lost the wager.
FRANKFORD.
Why, the worse his chance:
Perhaps the fortune of some other day
Will change his luck.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
Oh, but you hear not all.
Sir Francis lost, and yet was loth to yield:
At length the two knights grew to difference,
From words to blows, and so to banding sides;
Where valorous Sir Charles slew in his spleen
Two of your brother’s men; his falconer,
And his good huntsman, whom he loved so well:
More men were wounded, no more slain outright.
FRANKFORD.
Now, trust me, I am sorry for the knight;
But is my brother safe?
WENDOLL.
All whole and sound,
His body not being blemished with one wound:
But poor Sir Charles is to the prison led,
To answer at the assize for them that’s dead.
FRANKFORD.
I thank your pains, sir; had the news been better
Your will was to have brought it, Master
Wendoll.
Sir Charles will find hard friends; his case is heinous,
And will be most severely censured on[16]:
I’m sorry for him. Sir, a word with you;
I know you, sir, to be a gentleman
In all things; your possibilities but mean:
Please you to use my table and my purse,
They are yours.
WENDOLL.
O Lord, sir, I shall never deserve it.
FRANKFORD.
O sir, disparage not your worth too much:
You are full of quality and fair desert:
Choose of my men which shall attend on you,
And he is yours. I will allow you, sir,
Your man, your gelding, and your table, all
At my own charge; be my companion.
WENDOLL.
Master Frankford, I have oft been bound to you
By many favours; this exceeds them all,
That I shall never merit your least favour:
But, when your last remembrance I forget,
Heaven at my soul exact that weighty debt!
FRANKFORD.
There needs no protestation; for I know you
Virtuous, and therefore grateful. Prythee, Nan,
Use him with all thy loving’st courtesy.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
As far as modesty may well extend,
It is my duty to receive your friend.
FRANKFORD.
To dinner, come, sir; from this present day,
Welcome to me for ever: come, away.
[EXEUNT FRANKFORD, MISTRESS FRANKFORD, AND
WENDOLL.
NICHOLAS.
I do not like this fellow by no means:
I never see him but my heart still yearns:
Zounds! I could fight with him, yet know not why:
The devil and he are all one in my eye.
ENTER
JENKIN.
JENKIN.
O Nick, what gentleman is that comes to lie at our house? my master allows him one to wait on him, and I believe it will fall to thy lot.
NICHOLAS.
I love my master; by these hilts I do!
But rather than I’ll ever come to serve him,
I’ll turn away my master.
ENTER
CICELY.
CICELY.
Nich’las, where are you, Nich’las? you must come in, Nich’las, and help the young gentleman off with his boots.
NICHOLAS.
If I pluck off his boots, I’ll eat the spurs,
And they shall stick fast in my throat like burs.
CICELY.
Then, Jenkin, come you.
JENKIN.
Nay, ’tis no boot for me to deny it. My master hath given me a coat here, but he takes pains himself to brush it once or twice a day with a holly-wand.
CICELY.
Come, come, make haste, that you may wash your hands again, and help to serve in dinner.
JENKIN.
You may see, my masters, though it be afternoon with you, ’tis but early days with us, for we have not dined yet: stay a little, I’ll but go in and help to bear up the first course, and come to you again presently.
[Exeunt.
ENTER MALBY AND
CRANWELL.
MALBY.
This is the sessions-day; pray can you tell me
How young Sir Charles hath sped? Is he acquit,
Or must he try the law’s strict penalty?
CRANWELL.
He’s cleared of all, spite of his enemies,
Whose earnest labour was to take his life:
But in this suit of pardon he hath spent
All the revenues that his father left him;
And he is now turned a plain countryman,
Reformed in all things. See, sir, here he comes.
Enter Sir CHARLES and Keeper.
KEEPER.
Discharge your fees, and you are then at freedom.
SIR CHARLES MOUNTFORD.
Here, Master Keeper, take the poor remainder
Of all the wealth I have: my heavy foes
Have made my purse light; but, alas! to me
’Tis wealth enough that you have set me free.
MALBY.
God give you joy of your delivery!
I am glad to see you abroad, Sir Charles.
SIR CHARLES MOUNTFORD.
The poorest knight in England, Master Malby:
My life hath cost me all my patrimony
My father left his son: well, God forgive them
That are the authors of my penury.
ENTER SHAFTON.
SHAFTON.
Sir Charles! a hand, a hand! at liberty?
Now, by the faith I owe, I am glad to see it.
What want you? wherein may I pleasure you?
SIR CHARLES MOUNTFORD.
O me! O most unhappy gentleman!
I am not worthy to have friends stirred up,
Whose hands may help me in this plunge of want.
I would I were in Heaven, to inherit there
The immortal birth-right which my Saviour keeps,
And by no unthrift can be bought and sold;
For here on earth what pleasures should we trust?
SHAFTON.
To rid you from these contemplations,
Three hundred pounds you shall receive of me;
Nay, five for fail. Come, sir; the sight of gold
Is the most sweet receipt for melancholy,
And will revive your spirits: you shall hold law
With your proud adversaries. Tush, let Frank Acton
Wage with his knighthood like expense with me,
And he will sink, he will. Nay, good Sir Charles,
Applaud your fortune, and your fair escape
From all these perils.
SIR CHARLES MOUNTFORD.
O sir, they have undone me.
Two thousand and five hundred pound a year
My father, at his death, possessed me of;
All which the envious Acton made me spend.
And, notwithstanding all this large expense,
I had much ado to gain my liberty:
And I have only now a house of pleasure,
With some five hundred pounds, reserved
Both to maintain me and my loving sister.
SHAFTON.
[Aside.] That must I have, it lies convenient for me:
If I can fasten but one finger on him,
With my full hand I’ll gripe him to the heart.
’Tis not for love I proffered him this coin,
But for my gain and pleasure. [Aloud.] Come, Sir Charles,
I know you have need of money; take my offer.
SIR CHARLES MOUNTFORD.
Sir, I accept it, and remain indebted
Even to the best of my unable power.
Come, gentlemen, and see it tendered down.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.—A Room in FRANKFORD’S House.
Enter WENDOLL melancholy.
WENDOLL.
I am a villain if I apprehend
But such a thought: then, to attempt the deed,—
Slave, thou art damned without redemption.
I’ll drive away this passion with a song.
A song! ha, ha: a song! as if, fond man,
Thy eyes could swim in laughter, when thy soul
Lies drenched and drownèd in red tears of blood.
I’ll pray, and see if God within my heart
Plant better thoughts. Why, prayers are meditations;
And when I meditate (O God, forgive me!)
It is on her divine perfections.
I will forget her; I will arm myself
Not to entertain a thought of love to her:
And, when I come by chance into her presence,
I’ll hale these balls until my eye-strings crack,
From being pulled and drawn to look that way.
[ENTER OVER THE STAGE, FRANKFORD, MISTRESS FRANKFORD, AND NICHOLAS.][17]
O God! O God! with what a violence
I’m hurried to mine own destruction.
There goest thou, the most perfectest man
That ever England bred a gentleman;
And shall I wrong his bed? Thou God of thunder!
Stay in thy thoughts of vengeance and of wrath,
Thy great, almighty, and all-judging hand
From speedy execution on a villain:
A villain, and a traitor to his friend.
ENTER
JENKIN.
JENKIN.
Did your worship call?
WENDOLL.
He doth maintain me, he allows me largely
Money to spend——
JENKIN.
By my faith, so do not you me; I cannot get a cross of you.
WENDOLL.
My gelding, and my man——
JENKIN.
That’s Sorrell and I.
WENDOLL.
This kindness grows of no alliance ’twixt us——
JENKIN.
Nor is my service of any great acquaintance.
WENDOLL.
I never bound him to me by desert:
Of a mere stranger, a poor gentleman,
A man by whom in no kind he could gain,
He hath placed me in the height of all his thoughts,
Made me companion with the best and chiefest
In Yorkshire. He cannot eat without me,
Nor laugh without me: I am to his body
As necessary as his digestion,
And equally do make him whole or sick:
And shall I wrong this man? Base man! ingrate!
Hast thou the power straight with thy gory hands
To rip thy image from his bleeding heart?
To scratch thy name from out the holy book
Of his remembrance; and to wound his name
That holds thy name so dear? or rend his heart
To whom thy heart was knit and joined together?
And yet I must: then, Wendoll, be content;
Thus villains, when they would, cannot repent.
JENKIN.
What a strange humour is my new master in! pray God he be not mad: if he should be so, I should never have any mind to serve him in Bedlam. It may be he’s mad for missing of me.
WENDOLL.
[Seeing JENKIN.] What, Jenkin, where’s your mistress?
JENKIN.
Is your worship married?
WENDOLL.
Why dost thou ask?
JENKIN.
Because you are my master; and if I have a mistress, I would be glad, like a good servant, to do my duty to her.
WENDOLL.
I mean
Mistress
Frankford.
JENKIN.
Marry, sir, her husband is riding out of town, and she went very lovingly to bring him on his way to horse.[18] Do you see, sir? here she comes, and here I go.
WENDOLL.
Vanish.
[EXIT
JENKIN.
Re-enter
Mistress
FRANKFORD.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
You are well met, sir; now, in troth, my husband,
Before he took horse, had a great desire
To speak with you: we sought about the house,
Hollaed into the fields, sent every way,
But could not meet you: therefore he enjoined me
To do unto you his most kind commends.
Nay, more; he wills you, as you prize his love,
Or hold in estimation his kind friendship,
To make bold in his absence, and command
Even as himself were present in the house:
For you must keep his table, use his servants,
And be a present Frankford in his absence.
WENDOLL.
I thank him for his love.—
Give me a name, you whose infectious tongues
Are tipped with gall and poison: as you would
Think on a man that had your father slain,
Murdered your children, made your wives base strumpets,
So call me, call me so: print in my face
The most stigmatic title of a villain,
For hatching treason to so true a friend. [Aside.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
Sir, you are much beholding[19] to my husband;
You are a man most dear in his regard.
WENDOLL.
[Aside.] I am bound unto your husband, and you too.
I will not speak to wrong a gentleman
Of that good estimation, my kind friend:
I will not; zounds! I will not. I may choose,
And I will choose. Shall I be so misled?
Or shall I purchase to my father’s crest
The motto of a villain? If I say
I will not do it, what thing can enforce me?
What can compel me? What sad destiny
Hath such command upon my yielding thoughts?
I will not—Ha! some fury pricks me on,
The swift Fates drag me at their chariot-wheel,
And hurry me to mischief. Speak I must;
Injure myself, wrong her, deceive his trust.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
Are you not well, sir, that you seem thus troubled?
There is sedition in your countenance.
WENDOLL.
And in my heart, fair angel, chaste and wise.
I love you: start not, speak not, answer not.
I love you: nay, let me speak the rest:
Bid me to swear, and I will call to record
The host of Heaven.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
The host of Heaven forbid
Wendoll should hatch such a disloyal thought!
WENDOLL.
Such is my fate; to this suit I was born,
To wear rich pleasure’s crown, or fortune’s scorn.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
My husband loves you.
WENDOLL.
I know it.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
He esteems you
Even as his brain, his eye-ball, or his heart.
WENDOLL.
I have tried it.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
His purse is your exchequer, and his table
Doth freely serve you.
WENDOLL.
So I have found it.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
O! with what face of brass, what brow of steel,
Can you, unblushing, speak this to the face
Of the espoused wife of so dear a friend?
It is my husband that maintains your state;
Will you dishonour him that in your power
Hath left his whole affairs? I am his wife,
It is to me you speak.
WENDOLL.
O speak no more!
For more than this I know, and have recorded
Within the red-leaved table of my heart.
Fair, and of all beloved, I was not fearful
Bluntly to give my life into your hand,
And at one hazard all my earthly means.
Go, tell your husband; he will turn me off,
And I am then undone. I care not, I;
’Twas for your sake. Perchance in rage he’ll kill me:
I care not, ’twas for you. Say I incur
The general name of villain through the world,
Of traitor to my friend; I care not, I.
Beggary, shame, death, scandal, and reproach,
For you I’ll hazard all: why, what care I?
For you I’ll live, and in your love I’ll die.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
You move me, sir, to passion and to pity.
The love I bear my husband is as precious
As my soul’s health.
WENDOLL.
I love your husband too,
And for his love I will engage my life:
Mistake me not, the augmentation
Of my sincere affection borne to you
Doth no whit lessen my regard of him.
I will be secret, lady, close as night;
And not the light of one small glorious star
Shall shine here in my forehead, to bewray
That act of night.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
What shall I say?
My soul is wandering, and hath lost her way.
Oh, Master Wendoll! Oh!
WENDOLL.
Sigh not, sweet saint;
For every sigh you breathe draws from my heart
A drop of blood.
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
I ne’er offended yet:
My fault, I fear, will in my brow be writ.
Women that fall, not quite bereft of grace,
Have their offences noted in their face.
I blush and am ashamed. Oh, Master Wendoll,
Pray God I be not born to curse your tongue,
That hath enchanted me! This maze I am in
I fear will prove the labyrinth of sin.
Re-enter NICHOLAS behind.
WENDOLL.
The path of pleasure, and the gate to bliss,
Which on your lips I knock at with a kiss.
NICHOLAS.
[Aside.] I’ll kill the rogue.
WENDOLL.
Your husband is from home, your bed’s no blab.
Nay, look not down and blush.
[EXEUNT WENDOLL AND
MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.
NICHOLAS.
Zounds! I’ll stab.
Ay, Nick, was it thy chance to come just in the nick?
I love my master, and I hate that slave:
I love my mistress, but these tricks I like not.
My master shall not pocket up this wrong;
I’ll eat my fingers first. What say’st thou, metal?
Does not the rascal Wendoll go on legs
That thou must cut off? Hath he not ham-strings
That thou must hough? Nay, metal, thou shalt stand
To all I say. I’ll henceforth turn a spy,
And watch them in their close conveyances.
I never looked for better of that rascal,
Since he came miching[20] first into our house:
It is that Satan hath corrupted her,
For she was fair and chaste. I’ll have an eye
In all their gestures. Thus I think of them,
If they proceed as they have done before:
Wendoll’s a knave, my mistress is a—— [Exit.