SCENE I.—A Street near Sir HARRY’S House.
Enter Old Master CHARTLEY and three or four Serving-men.
OLD CHARTLEY.
Good Heaven! this London is a stranger grown,
And out of my acquaintance; this seven years
I have not seen Paul’s steeple, or Cheap Cross.[56]
1ST
SERVING-MAN.
Sir—
OLD CHARTLEY.
Hast thou not made inquiry for my son?
1ST
SERVING-MAN.
Yes, sir, I have asked about everywhere for him, but cannot hear of him.
OLD CHARTLEY.
Disperse yourselves; inquire about the taverns, ordinaries, bowl-alleys, tennis-courts, gaming-houses; for there, I fear, he will be found.
1ST
SERVING-MAN.
But where shall we hear of your worship again?
OLD CHARTLEY.
At Grace Church by the Conduit, near
Sir Harry.
But stay, leave off a while your bootless search.
Had e’er man such a wild brain to his sorrow,
Of such small hope, who, when he should have married
A fair, a modest, and a virtuous maid,
Rich and revenued well, and even the night
Before the marriage day took horse, rode thence,
Whither Heaven knows? Since the distracted virgin
Hath left her father’s house, but neither found,
Yet in their search we have measured out much ground.
ENTER SIR HARRY AND
SENCER.
SENCER.
Your worship will be there?
SIR HARRY.
Yes, not to fail,
At half an hour past six, or before seven.
SENCER.
You shall not find us at six and at seven, I’ll warrant you: good health to your worship.
SIR HARRY.
Farewell, good fellow;
At the Wise-woman’s house (I know it well:
Perhaps she knows some danger touching me).
I’ll keep mine hour.
[EXIT
SENCER.
OLD CHARTLEY.
Sir Harry,
A hand, a hand; to baulk you it were sin.
I shall be bold to make your house mine inn.
SIR HARRY.
Brother Chartley, I am glad to see you.
OLD CHARTLEY.
Methinks, Sir Harry, you look strangely on me.
And do not bid me welcome with an heart.
SIR HARRY.
And blame me not to look amazedly
To see you here.
OLD CHARTLEY.
Why me?
SIR HARRY.
Come, come, you’re welcome.
And now I’ll turn my strangeness to true joy.
I am glad to see you well, and safe recovered
Of your late grievous sickness.
OLD CHARTLEY.
The strange amazèd looks that you cast off
You put on me; and blame me not to wonder
That you should talk of sickness to sound men.
I thank my stars I did not taste the grief
Of inward pain or outward malady
This seven years day.
SIR HARRY.
But by your favour, brother,
Then let me have my wonder back again.
OLD CHARTLEY.
Before I quite part with it, let me know
Why you the name of brother put upon me
In every clause—a name as strange to me
As my recovered sickness.
SIR HARRY.
You are pleasant,
And it becomes you well: welcome again,
The rather you are come just to the wedding.
OLD CHARTLEY.
What wedding, sir?
SIR HARRY.
That you should ask that question!
Why, of my daughter Grace.
OLD CHARTLEY.
Is Grace bestowed? Of whom, I pray?
SIR HARRY.
Of whom but of your son.
I wonder, brother Chartley, and my friend,
You should thus play on me.
OLD CHARTLEY.
But by your favour,
Were you ten knights, Sir Harry—take me with you[57]—
My son match with your daughter! my consent
Not worthy to be craved!
SIR HARRY.
Nay, then I see
You’ll stir my patience; know this forward match
Took its first birth from you.
OLD CHARTLEY.
From me?
SIR HARRY.
From you.
Peruse this letter: know you your own hand?
’Twas well that I reserved your hand a witness
Against your tongue. You had best deny the jointure
Of the three hundred pounds made to my daughter;
’Tis that I know you aim at; but your seal— [Shows him letter.
OLD CHARTLEY.
Shall not make me approve it: I deny
This seal for mine, nor do I vouch that hand.
Your daughter and the dower, letter and all,
I quite disclaim. Sir Harry, you much wrong me.
SIR HARRY.
I can bear more than this; heap wrong on wrong,
And I’ll support it all; I for this time
Will cast my spleen behind me. And yet hear me:
This letter your son Chartley, as from you,
Delivered me. I like the motion well.
OLD CHARTLEY.
My spleen is further thrown aside than yours,
And I am full as patient, and yet hear me;
My son’s contracted to another maid.
Nay, I am patient still—yet that I writ
This letter, sealed this impress, I deny.
SIR HARRY.
Why, then, the jack[58] your hand did counterfeit?
OLD CHARTLEY.
Why, then, he did so. Where’s that unthrift, speak?
SIR HARRY.
Some hour ago, he mounted and rid post
To give you visit, whom he said lay sick
Upon your death-bed.
OLD CHARTLEY.
You amaze me, sir.
It is an ill presage; hereon I see
Your former salutation took its ground,
To see me safe recovered of my sickness.
SIR HARRY.
Indeed it did. Your welcome is a subject
I cannot use too oft; welcome again.
I am sorry you this night must sup alone,
For I am elsewhere called about some business,
Concerning what I know not. Hours run on—
I must to Hogsdon; high time I were gone. [Exit.
OLD CHARTLEY.
Perhaps to the Wise-woman’s; she may tell me
The fortunes of my son. This accident
Hath bred in me suspicion and strange fears.
I will not sup alone, but I protest,
’Mongst some this night I’ll play the intruding guest.
[Exit with Serving-men.
SCENE II.—The Principal Room in the Wise-woman’s House, leading to several small rooms, all of which look into it.
Enter the Wise-woman, SENCER as a Serving-man, LUCE and her Father, and 2nd LUCE in Boy’s clothes.
WISE-WOMAN.
But will Sir Harry come?
SENCER.
Presume he will,
And Chartley too.
LUCE’S FATHER.
I’ll have the knave by the ears.
LUCE.
Nay, patience, sir; leave your revenge to me.
ENTER
BOYSTER.
BOYSTER.
Grannam, I am come according to promise.
WISE-WOMAN.
And welcome to the best hole that I have in Hogsdon.
BOYSTER.
Good even.
LUCE.
Thanks, sir, a good even may it prove,
That each may reap the fruits of their own love!
2ND
LUCE.
That shall be my prayer too.
BOYSTER.
Come, what shall’s do?
WISE-WOMAN.
Withdraw; I’ll place you all in several rooms,
Where sit, see, but say nothing.
[They withdraw. Exeunt Wise-woman and
2nd
LUCE.
Enter TABER, ushering
GRATIANA.
TABER.
Here, sweet mistress; I know the place well ever since I was here to know my fortune.
GRATIANA.
Call me some half an hour hence.
[EXIT
TABER.
Re-enter the Wise-woman and
2nd
LUCE.
WISE-WOMAN.
Your ladyship is most lovingly welcome. A low stool for the gentlewoman, boy. I made bold to send to you to take view of such a piece of work as I presume you have seldom seen the like.
GRATIANA.
Of whose doing, I pray?
WISE-WOMAN.
A friend of yours and mine. Please you withdraw,
I’ll bring you to’t.
2ND
LUCE.
Mistress!
WISE-WOMAN.
One calls, sweet lady; I shall do you wrong,
But pray you think my little stay not long.
[GRATIANA withdraws, exeunt the others.
SCENE III.—An Inner Room in the same.
ENTER SENCER, SIR HARRY, AND
LUCE.
SENCER.
Here, sir, in this retiring chamber.
SIR HARRY.
Gramercy, friend. How now? what’s here to do?
A pretty wench and a close chamber too!
LUCE.
That you have so much graced my mother’s house
With your desirèd presence, worthy knight,
Receive a poor maid’s thanks. Who’s there? a chair
And cushion for
Sir Harry.
SIR HARRY.
Thanks, most fair.
LUCE.
Please you but a few minutes here to stay,
Till my return, I’ll not be long away.
SENCER.
The gentlewoman will wait on you by and by, sir.
[EXEUNT LUCE AND
SENCER.
SIR HARRY.
And I’ll attend her, friend.
Of all those doubts I long to know the end.
SCENE IV.—The Principal Room in the same.
Enter the Wise-woman, SENCER and LUCE. To them enter 2nd LUCE and
Old Chartley.
2ND
LUCE.
The knight you seek was here, or will be straight,
And, if you be the man you name yourself,
You are most welcome, and you shall not back
Till you have seen
Sir Harry.
OLD CHARTLEY.
Gentle youth,
I saw him enter here, and under privilege
Of his acquaintance made I bold to stay.
2ND
LUCE.
And you are welcome, sir; sit down, I pray.
[Takes him into one of the inner rooms.
WISE-WOMAN.
Now they are placed in several rooms, that look into this one. Were Chartley come we had all our company.
SENCER.
Hark, there’s one knocks; ’tis Chartley, on my life.
LUCE.
One of you let him in, whilst I prepare me
To entertain his coming.
[Exeunt SENCER and
Wise-woman.
Enter Young CHARTLEY, ushered in by SENCER, who retires.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
What, old acquaintance Luce! Not a word? yet some lip-labour if thou lovest me.
GRATIANA. [In an inner room.]
My husband![59]
SIR HARRY. [In another inner room.]
What, young Chartley!
OLD CHARTLEY. [Also in an inner room.]
How! my son!
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Come, come away with this wailing in woe; if thou put’st finger in the eye a little longer, I shall plunge in pain too presently.
LUCE.
O husband, husband!
GRATIANA.
Husband!
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
What say’st thou, my sweet wife?
GRATIANA.
Wife! O my heart!
2ND
LUCE.
[Aside.] In that name wife I claim a poor child’s part.
LUCE.
O husband, how have you used me!
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Nay, how do I mean to use thee, but as a man should use his wife?
GRATIANA.
I hope he doth not mean to use her so.
2ND
LUCE.
[Aside.] I hope so too.
BOYSTER. [In an inner room.]
My grannam is a witch.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Nay, Luce, sweet wife, leave weeping if thou lovest me.
LUCE.
Oh, can you blame me, knowing that the fountain
Of all these springs took their first head from you?
You know, you too well know, not three days since
Are past since we were married.
GRATIANA.
Married! I can endure no longer.
SIR HARRY.
It cannot be.
OLD CHARTLEY.
It is not possible.
BOYSTER.
I’ll be even with thee for this, old grannam.
LUCE.
And though we wanted witness upon earth,
Yet Heaven bears record of our nuptial tie.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Tush, when we meet in Heaven let’s talk of that.
Nay, come, you ass, you fool, what’s past is past;
Though man and wife, yet I must marry now
Another gallant; here’s thy letter, Luce,
And this night I intend to lodge with thee.
2ND
LUCE.
[Aside.] I’ll scratch her eyes out first, although I love her.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Prithee be merry.
I have made a gull of Grace, and old Sir Harry
Thinks me a great way off. I told the knight
My father lay a-dying, took post-horse,
Rid out of Holborn, turned by Islington,
So hither, wench, to lodge all night with thee.
2ND
LUCE.
[Aside.] Here’s one saith nay to that.
OLD CHARTLEY.
Was that your journey?
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Why,[60] I have too much Grace already.
BOYSTER.
Thou hast no grace at all.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Nay, let’s to bed; if thou couldst but imagine how I love thee, Luce!
LUCE.
How is it possible you can love me, and go about to marry another?
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Dost thou not know she’s rich? Why, you fool, as soon as I have got her dower, it is but giving her a dram, or a pill to purge melancholy, to make her turn up her heels, and then with all that wealth come I to live with thee, my sweet rascal.
GRATIANA. [Coming from the inner room.]
She thanks you, and is much beholding to you.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
I am betrayed!
GRATIANA.
Art thou my suitor? wouldst thou marry me,
And thy first wife alive? then poison me,
To purchase my poor dower?
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
What shall I say, or think, or do? I am at a nonplus.
GRATIANA.
Hast thou the face, thou brazen impudence,
To look upon me?—past grace!
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Thou canst not properly call me past Grace, for I never enjoyed thee yet. I cannot tell whether I blush or no, but I have now at this time more Grace than I can tell what to do with.
GRATIANA.
Who drew thee to this folly?
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Who but the old dotard thy father, who when I was honestly married to a civil maid, he persuaded me to leave her? I was loth at first, but after entreating, urging, and offering me large proffers, I must confess I was seduced to come a-wooing to thee.
GRATIANA.
My father, villain!
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Ay, thy father, Grace. And were he here would justify it to the old dotard’s face.
Enter
Sir Harry.
SIR HARRY.
Vile boy, thou dar’st not be so impudent!
When did I meet thee, seek or sue to thee?
When? Name the day, the month, the hour, the year.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Plots, plots! I can but cry you mercy both. Say that I have done you wrong, I can be but sorry for it. But, indeed, to clear you, and lay the fault where it ought to be, all this comes from mine own father in the country, who hearing I had married with Luce, sends me word, of his blessing,[61] to be divorced from her, and to come a suitor to your daughter. I think you have his hand and seal to show.
ENTER
OLD CHARTLEY.
OLD CHARTLEY.
My hand and seal! When was that letter writ?
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Heyday, if you get one word more of me to-night but scurvy looks, I’ll give you leave to hang me.
SIR HARRY.
Vile boy!
OLD CHARTLEY.
Ungracious villain!
GRATIANA.
Treacherous youth!
SIR HARRY.
No grace at all!
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
No Grace.
OLD CHARTLEY.
This is bad company who hath seduced thee!
Speak, on my blessing, who hath thus misled thee?
But no more lies, I charge thee.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Bad company hath been the shame of me. I was as virtuously given as any youth in Europe, till I fell into one Boyster’s company; ’tis he that hath done all the harm upon me.
BOYSTER.
[Aside.] I!
OLD CHARTLEY.
And if he should deny it?
ENTER
BOYSTER.
BOYSTER.
What then? you’d cry him mercy.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
I had best bite out my tongue, and speak no more. What shall I do, or what shall I say? There is no outfacing them all. Gentlemen, fathers, wives, or what else, I have wronged you all. I confess it that I have—what would you more? Will any of you rail of me? I’ll bear it. Will any of you beat me? So they strike not too hard, I’ll suffer it. Will any of you challenge me? I’ll answer it. What would you have me say or do? One of these I have married, the other I have betrothed, yet both maids for me. Will you have me take one, and leave the tother? I will. Will you have me keep them both? I will.
Enter
LUCE’S FATHER.
LUCE’S FATHER.
Perjured! not mine.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
What, you here too? Nay, then, I see all my good friends are met together. Wilt thou have me, Luce? I am thy husband, and had I not loved thee better than Grace, I had not disappointed the marriage day to-morrow.
LUCE.
Lascivious! no.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Wilt thou have me, Grace?—for had I not loved thee better than Luce, I would never after I had married her been contracted to thee.
GRATIANA.
Inconstant! no.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Then, neither married man, widower, nor bachelor, what’s to be done? Here’s even the proverb verified—between two stools, the tail goes to ground.
SIR HARRY.
Now I bethink me, this our meeting here is wondrous strange. Call in the gentlewoman that owns this house.
Enter SENCER no longer disguised, and the
Wise-woman.
BOYSTER.
Old trot, I’ll trounce thee.
Here is the marriage proved ’twixt Luce and Chartley:
Witch, this was not your promise.
WISE-WOMAN.
Have patience, and in the end we’ll pay you all. Your worships are most heartily welcome. I made bold to send for you, and you may see to what end, which was to discover unto you the wild vagaries of this wanton wag-pasty—a wild oats I warrant him—and, Sir Harry, that your daughter hath scaped this scouring, thank this gentleman, and then make of him as he deserves.
SIR HARRY.
Oh, I remember him.
GRATIANA.
He never pleased mine eye so well as now.
I know his love, and he in Chartley’s place
My favour shall possess.
SENCER.
Thanks, my sweet Grace.
SIR HARRY.
Ay, and the more the inconstant youth to spite,
Sencer, I give her thee in Chartley’s sight.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
There’s one gone already; but this is my wife, and her I’ll keep in spite both of the devil and his dam.
WISE-WOMAN.
Not from her lawful husband!
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
That am I.
WISE-WOMAN.
That is the gentleman [pointing to BOYSTER],—accept him, Luce; and you the like of her—nay, I’ll make it good. This gentleman married you visarded, you him disguised, mistaking him for Chartley, which none but my boy Jack was privy to: after she changed her habit with him, as you with Jack; and you in Mistress Luce’s habit—
LUCE.
May I believe you, mother?
WISE-WOMAN.
This be your token.
BOYSTER.
Her that I married, I wrung twice by the finger.
LUCE.
Of that token, my hand was sensible.
BOYSTER.
And ere the clamorous and loud noise begun,
I whispered to her thus— [Whispers.
LUCE.
You are the man.
BOYSTER.
Thanks, grannam; what thou promised thou hast done.
LUCE’S FATHER.
And, leaving him, I take you for my son.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Two gone! then where’s the third? This makes me mad.
Where is my wife, then? for a wife I had.
WISE-WOMAN.
Not see thy wife? Come hither, Jack, my boy.
Nay, take him to thee, and with him all joy.
OLD CHARTLEY.
Well art thou served to be a general scorn
To all thy blood: and, if not for our sakes,
For thy soul’s health and credit of the world,
Have some regard to me—to me thy father.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Enough, sir: if I should say I would become a new man, you would not take my word; if I should swear I would amend my life, you would not take mine oath; if I should bind myself to become an honest man, you would scarce take my bond.
OLD CHARTLEY.
I should do none of these.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Then see, sir: when to all your judgments I see me past grace, do I lay hold of grace, and here begin to retire myself. This woman hath lent me a glass, in which I see all my imperfections, at which my conscience doth more blush inwardly than my face outwardly; and now I dare confidently undertake for myself I am honest.
2ND
LUCE.
Then I dare confidently undertake to help you to a wife who desires to have an honest man or none. Look on me well: simple though I stand here, I am your wife. Blush not at your folly, man. Perhaps I have more in me than you expect from me.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Knavery and riot, both which are now to me foreign.
2ND
LUCE.
You and I have been better acquainted, and yet search me not too far, lest you shame me; look on me well—nay better, better yet;—I’ll assure you I left off a petticoat when I put on these breeches. What say you now? [She scatters her hair.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
First love, and best beloved!
2ND
LUCE.
Let me be both or neither.
WISE-WOMAN.
[Aside.] My boy turned girl! I hope she’ll keep my counsel. From henceforth I’ll never entertain any servant but I’ll have her searched.
OLD CHARTLEY.
Her love hath drawn her hither after him.—
My loving daughter, welcome! thou hast run
A happy course to see my son thus changed.
YOUNG CHARTLEY.
Father, call me once again your son, and, Sir Harry, me your friend; Sencer, a hand, and Mistress Grace, a heart, in honourable love. Where I have wronged you, Luce, forgive; impute my errors to my youth, not me. With Grace I interchange an embrace; with you, Luce, a parting buss. I wish you all joy. Divide my heart amongst you—thou my soul!
Nay, Mother Midnight, there’s some love for you;
Out of thy folly, being reputed wise,
We, self-conceited, have our follies found:
Bear thou the name of all these comical acts.
Luce, Luce, and Grace—O covetous man! I see
I sought to engross what now sufficeth three,
Yet each one wife enough. One nuptial feast
Shall serve three bridals, where be thou chief guest!
[Exeunt.