band;

Though sworn, that it can ever find belief;
That I, who to the best men of this country
Denied my presence since my husband's death,
Can fall so low as to change words with thee?
Well. Scorn me not, good lady;
But as, in form, you are angelical,
Imitate the heavenly natures, and vouchsafe
At least a while to hear me. You will grant,
The blood, that runs in this arm, is as noble
As that which fills your veins. Your swelling
titles,

Equipage, and fortune; your mens' observance,
And women's flattery, are in you no virtues;
Nor these rags, with my poverty, in me vices.
You have a fair fame, and, I know, deserve it;
Yet, lady, I must say, in nothing more,
Than in the pious sorrow you have shewn
For your late noble husband.

Order. How she starts!

Well. That husband, madam, was once, in his fortune,

Almost as low as I. Want, debts, and quarrels, Lay heavy on him: let it not be thought

A boast in me, though I say, I relieved him.
'Twas I, that gave him fashion; mine, the sword
That did, on all occasions, second his;
I brought him on and off, with honour, lady:
And, when in all men's judgments, he was
sunk,

And in his own hopes not to be buoyed up,
I stepped unto him, took him by the hand,
And brought him to the shore.

Furn. Are not we base rogues,
That could forget this?

Well. I confess, you made him
Master of your estate; nor could your friends,
Though he brought no wealth with him, blame
you for it:

For he had a shape, and to that shape a mind,
Made up of all parts, either great or noble,

Resisted, madam.

Lady. 'Tis most true, he had.

Well. For his sake, then, in that I was his friend,

Do not contemn me.

Lady. For what's past excuse me;

I will redeem it. [Offers him her pocket-book,
Well. Madam, on no terms:

I will not beg nor borrow sixpence of you;
But be supplied elsewhere, or want thus ever.
Only one suit I make, which you deny not
To strangers; and 'tis this: pray, give me leave.
[Whispers to her.

Lady. Fie! nothing else?
Well. Nothing; unless you please to charge

your servants

To throw away a little respect upon me. Lady. What you demand is yours.

Well. I thank you, lady.

[Exit LADY.

Now, what can be wrought out of such a suit,

Is yet in supposition-[Servants bow.]-Nay, all's

lady,

Who can, at once, so kindly meet my purposes,
And brave the flouts of censure, to redeem
Her husband's friend! When by this honest plot
The world believes she means to heal my wants
With her extensive wealth, each noisy creditor
Will be struck mute, and I be left, at large,
To practise on my uncle Overreach ;
Whose foul, rapacious spirit, (on the hearing
Of my encouragement from this rich lady)
Again will court me to his house of patronage,
Here, I may work the measure to redeem
My mortgaged fortune, which he stripped me of,
When youth and dissipation quelled my reason.
The fancy pleases-if the plot succeed,
'Tis a new way to pay old debts, indeed.

[Exit.

And have been since with all your friends and

tenants,

And, on the forfeit of your favour, charged them,

Though a crust of mouldy bread would keep him from starving,

Yet they should not relieve him. This is done,

sir.

Over. That was something, Marrall; but thou must go farther;

And suddenly, Marrall.

Mar. Where and when you please, sir. Over, I would have thee seek him out; and, if thou canst,

Persuade him, that 'tis better steal than beg :
Then, if I prove he has but robbed a hen-roost,
Not all the world shall save him from the gal-
lows.

Do any thing to work him to despair,
And 'tis thy master-piece.

Mar. I will do my best, sir.

Over. I am now on my main work, with the lord Lovell;

The gallant-minded, popular lord Lovell,
The minion of the people's love. I hear
He's come into the country; and my aims are,
To insinuate myself into his knowledge,
And then invite him to my house.

Mar. I have you.

This points at my young mistress.
Over, She must part with

That humble title, and write honourable;
Right honourable, Marrall; my right honourable
daughter;

If all I have, or e'er shall get, will do it.

I will have her well attended; there are ladies
Of errant knights decayed, and brought so low,
That, for cast clothes, and meat, will gladly serve
her;

And 'tis my glory, though I came from the city,
To have their issue, whom I have undone,
To kneel to mine, as bond slaves.

Mar, 'Tis fit state, sir.

Over. And therefore, I'll not have a chambermaid

That ties her shoes, or any meaner office,
But such whose fathers were right worshipful.
'Tis a rich man's pride! there having ever been
More than a feud, a strange antipathy

Between us and true gentry,

Enter WELLBORN.

Mur. See, who's here, sir!
Over. Hence, monster, prodigy!

Well. Call me what you will; I am your nephew, sir.

Over. Avoid my sight, thy breath's infectious, rogue!

I shun thee as a leprosy, or the plague.
Come hither, Marrall; this is the time to work

him.

[Exit OVERREACH.

Well. By what?

Mar. By my religion. Well. Thy religion!

The devil's creed; but what would you have done?

Mar. Had there been but one tree in all the
shire,

Nor any hope to compass a penny halter,
Before, like you, I had outlived my fortunes,
A with had served my turn to hang myself.

I am zealous in your cause: pray you, hang yourself;

And presently, as you love your credit.
Well. I thank you.

Mar. Will you stay till you die in a ditch?
Or, if you dare not do the fate yourself,

But that you'll put the state to charge and trouble,

Is there no purse to be cut? house to be bro ken?

Or market-woman with eggs that you may murder,

And so dispatch the business?

Well. Here's variety,

I must confess; but I'll accept of none
Of all your gentle offers, I assure you.

Mar. Why, have you hope ever to eat again? Or drink? or be the master of three farthings? If you like not hanging, drown yourself; take

If ever thou presume to pass her threshold,
I will endure thy company.
Well. Come along.

[Exeunt.

Furn. I know my cue, ne'er doubt me. [Exit.

Enter MARRALL and WELLBORN.

Order. Most welcome;

You were long since expected.

Well. Say so much

To my friend, I pray you.

Order. For your sake I will, sir.
Mar. For his sake!

Well. Mum; this is nothing.

Mar. More than ever

[Exit.

I would have believed, though I had found it in my primmer.

Allw. When I have given you reasons for ing

late harshness,

You'll pardon and excuse me: for, believe me,
Though now I part abruptly in my service,
I will deserve it.

Mar. Service! with a vengeance!
Well. I am satisfied; farewell, Tom!
Alle. All joy stay with you.

[Exit ALLWORTH..

Enter AMBLE.

Amble. You are happily encountered: I ne

ver yet

Presented one so welcome, as I know

You will be, to my lady.

Mar. This is some vision;

Lady. Sir, your friends are welcome to me. Well. Run backward from a lady! and such a lady!

Mar. To kiss her foot, is, to poor me, a favour I am unworthy of [Offers to kiss her foot. Lady. Nay, pray you, rise; And, since you are so humble, I'll exalt you;

Furn. I am glad you are come; until I know your pleasure,

I knew not how to serve up my lady's dinner.
Mar. His pleasure! is it possible?

Well. What's thy will?

[Aside.

Furn. Marry, sir, I have some growse and turkey chicken,

Some rails and quails; and my lady willed me to ask you

What kind of sauces best affect your palate,
That I may use my utmost skill to please it.

Mar. The devil's entered this cook: sauce for his palate!

That, on my knowledge, for almost this twelvemonth,

Durst wish but cheese-parings, and brown bread on Sundays!

Well. That way I like them best.

Furn. It shall be done, sir. [Erit FURNACE. Well. What think you of the hedge we shall dine under?

Order. This place becomes you not;

Pray you, walk, sir, to the dining-room.
Well. I am well here,

Till her ladyship quits her chamber.
Mar. Well, here, say you?

'Tis a rare change! but yesterday you thought Yourself well in a barn, wrapped up in pease

.

straw.

Order. Sir, my lady.

Enter Lady.

[Exit ORDER.

The roasting of his heart, that cheated him,
And forces the poor gentleman to these shifts.
By fire! (for cooks are Persians, and swear by it)
Of all the griping and extorting tyrants
I ever heard or read of, I never met
A match to sir Giles Overreach.
Order. What will you take

To tell him so, fellow Furnace?
Furn. Just as much

As my throat is worth; for that would be the price on't.

To have a usurer that starves himself,

And wears a cloak of one and twenty years
On a suit of fourteen groats, bought of the hang-

man,

I saw you.

This first kiss for form; I allow a second,

As token of my friendship.

Well. I am wholly yours; yet, madam, if you please

To grace this gentleman with a salute

Mar. Salute me at his bidding!

Well. I shall receive it

As a most high favour.

In wealth and lordships.

Order. He frights men out of their estates, And breaks through all law-nets, made to curb

ill men,

As they were cobwebs. No man dares reprove

him.

Such a spirit to dare, and power to do, were

never

Lodged so unluckily.