And this rogue
pretends
he has an interest in me, merely
to defeat you: Look you, look you, where he stands in ambush, like a
Jesuit behind a Quaker, to see how his design will take.
to defeat you: Look you, look you, where he stands in ambush, like a
Jesuit behind a Quaker, to see how his design will take.
Dryden - Complete
[_Aside_.
_Const_. I mistrust you; and, therefore, if you fail, I'll
have your hand to show against you; here's ink and paper. [LOVEBY
_writes_.
_Enter_ BURR, _and_ TIMOROUS.
_Burr_. What makes Loveby yonder? He's writing somewhat.
_Tim_. I'll go see. [_Looks over him_.
_Lov_. Have you no more manners than to overlook a man when he's
a writing? --Oh! is't you, Sir Timorous? You may stand still; now I
think on't, you cannot read written hand.
_Burr_. You are very familiar with Sir Timorous.
_Lov_. So am I with his companions, sir.
_Burr_. Then there's hopes you and I may be better acquainted. I
am one of his companions.
_Lov_. By what title? as you are an ass, sir?
_Const_. No more, Loveby.
_Lov_. I need not, madam. Alas! this fellow is only the solicitor
of a quarrel, 'till he has brought it to an head; and will leave the
fighting part to the courteous pledger. Do not I know these fellows?
You shall as soon persuade a mastiff to fasten on a lion, as one of
those to engage with a courage above their own: They know well enough
whom they can beat, and who can beat them.
_Enter _FAILER _at a distance_.
_Fail_. Yonder they are: Now, would I compound for a reasonable
sum, that I were friends with Burr. If I am not, I shall lose Sir
Timorous.
_Const_. O, servant, have I spied you? let me run into your arms.
_Fail_. I renounce my lady Constance: I vow to gad, I renounce
her.
_Tim_. To your task, Burr.
_Enter NONSUCH and ISABELLA_.
_Const_. Hold, gentlemen! no sign of quarrel.
_Non_. O, friends! I think I shall go mad with grief: I have lost
more money.
_Lov_. Would I had it: that's all the harm I wish myself. Your
servant, madam; I go about the business.
_Exit LOVEBY_.
_Non_. What! does he take no pity on me?
_Const_. Pr'ythee, moan him, Isabella.
_Isa_. Alas, alas, poor uncle! could they find in their hearts to
rob him!
_Non_. Five hundred pounds, out of poor six thousand pounds
a-year! I, and mine, are undone for ever.
_Fail_. Your own house, you think, is clear, my lord?
_Const_. I dare answer for all there, as much as for myself.
_Burr_. Oh, that he would but think that Loveby had it!
_Fail_. If you'll be friends with me, I'll try what I can
persuade him to.
_Burr_. Here's my hand, I will, dear heart.
_Fail_. Your own house being clear, my lord, I am apt to suspect
this Loveby for such a person. Did you mark how abruptly he went out?
_Non_. He did indeed, Mr Failer. But why should I suspect him?
his carriage is fair, and his means great; he could never live after
this rate, if it were not.
_Fail_. This still renders him the more suspicious: He has no
land, to my knowledge.
_Burr_. Well said, mischief. [_Aside_.
_Const_. My father's credulous, and this rogue has found the
blind side of him; would Loveby heard him! [_To_ ISABELLA.
_Fail_. He has no means, and he loses at play; so that, for my
part, I protest to gad, I am resolved he picks locks for his living.
_Burr_. Nay, to my knowledge, he picks locks.
_Tim_. And to mine.
_Fail_. No longer ago than last night he met me in the dark, and
offered to dive into my pockets.
_Non_. That's a main argument for suspicion.
_Fail_. I remember once, when the keys of the Exchequer were lost
in the Rump-time, he was sent for upon an extremity, and, egad, he
opens me all the locks with the blade-bone of a breast of mutton.
_Non_. Who, this Loveby?
_Fail_. This very Loveby. Another time, when we had sate up very
late at ombre in the country, and were hungry towards morning, he
plucks me out (I vow to gad I tell you no lie) four ten-penny nails
from the dairy lock with his teeth, fetches me out a mess of milk, and
knocks me 'em in again with his head, upon reputation.
_Isa_. Thou boy!
_Non_. What shall I do in this case? My comfort is, my gold's all
marked.
_Const_. Will you suspect a gentleman of Loveby's worth, upon the
bare report of such a rascal as this Failer?
_Non_. Hold thy tongue, I charge thee; upon my blessing hold thy
tongue. I'll have him apprehended before he sleeps; come along with
me, Mr Failer.
_Fail_. Burr, look well to Sir Timorous; I'll be with you
instantly.
_Const_. I'll watch you by your favour. [_Aside.
[Exeunt_ NONSUCH _and_ FAILER, CONSTANCE _following them_.
_Isa_. A word, Sir Timorous.
_Burr_. [Gets _behind_. ] She shall have a course at the
knight, and come up to him, but when she is just ready to pinch, he
shall give such a loose from her, shall break her heart.
_Isa_. Burr there still, and watching us? There's certainly some
plot in this, but I'll turn it to my own advantage. [_Aside_.
_Tim. Did you mark Burr's retirement, madam?
_Isa_ Ay; his guilt, it seems, makes him shun your company.
_Tim_. In what can he be guilty?
_Isa_. You must needs know it; he courts your mistress.
_Tim_. Is he, too, in love with my lady Constance?
_Isa_. No, no: but, which is worse, he courts me.
_Tim_. Why, what have I to do with you? You know I care not this
for you.
_Isa_. Perhaps so; but he thought you did: and good reason for
it.
_Tim_. What reason, madam?
_Isa_. The most convincing in the world: He knew my cousin
Constance never loved you: He has heard her say, you were as
invincibly ignorant as a town-fop judging a new play: as shame-faced
as a great overgrown school-boy: in fine, good for nothing but to be
wormed out of your estate, and sacrificed to the god of laughter.
_Tim_. Was your cousin so barbarous to say this?
_Isa_. In his hearing.
_Tim_. And would he let me proceed in my suit to her?
_Isa_. For that I must excuse him; he never thought you could
love one of my cousin's humour; but took your court to her, only as
a blind to your affection for me; and, being possessed with that
opinion, he thought himself as worthy as you to marry me.
_Tim_. He is not half so worthy; and so I'll tell him, in a fair
way.
_Burr_. [_To a Boy entering_. ] Sirrah, boy, deliver this
note to madam Isabella; but be not known I am so near.
_Boy_. I warrant you, sir.
_Burr_. Now, Fortune, all I desire of thee is, that Sir Timorous
may see it; if he once be brought to believe there is a kindness
between her and me, it will ruin all her projects.
_Isa_. [_To the Boy_. ] From whom?
_Boy_. From Mr Burr, madam.
_Isa_. [Reads. ] _These for Madam Isabella. Dear rogue, Sir
Timorous knows nothing of our kindness, nor shall for me; seem still
to have designs upon him; it will hide thy affection the better to thy
servant,_ BURR.
_Isa_. Alas, poor woodcock, dost thou go a-birding? Thou hast
e'en set a springe to catch thy own neck. Look you here, Sir Timorous;
here's something to confirm what I have told you. [_Gives him the
letter_.
_Tim_. D, e, a, r, _dear_; r, o, g, u, e, _rogue_.
Pray, madam, read it; this written hand is such a damned pedantic
thing, I could never away with it.
_Isa_. He would fain have robbed you of me: Lord, Lord! to see
the malice of a man.
_Tim_. She has persuaded me so damnably, that I begin to think
she's my mistress indeed.
_Isa_. Your mistress? why, I hope you are not to doubt that, at
this time of day. I was your mistress from the first day you ever saw
me.
_Tim_. Nay, like enough you were so; but I vow to gad now, I was
wholly ignorant of my own affection.
_Isa_.
And this rogue pretends he has an interest in me, merely
to defeat you: Look you, look you, where he stands in ambush, like a
Jesuit behind a Quaker, to see how his design will take.
_Tim_. I see the rogue: Now could I find in my heart to marry you
in spite to him; what think you on't, in a fair way?
_Isa_. I have brought him about as I could wish; and now I'll
make my own conditions. [_Aside_. ] Sir Timorous, I wish you well;
but he I marry must promise me to live at London: I cannot abide to be
in the country, like a wild beast in the wilderness, with no Christian
soul about me.
_Tim_. Why, I'll bear you company.
_Isa_. I cannot endure your early hunting-matches there; to have
my sleep disturbed by break of day, with heigh, Jowler, Jowler! there
Venus, ah Beauty! and then a serenade of deep-mouthed curs, to answer
the salutation of the huntsman, as if hell were broke loose about me:
and all this to meet a pack of gentlemen savages, to ride all day,
like mad-men, for the immortal fame of being first in at the hare's
death: to come upon the spur, after a trial at four in the afternoon,
to destruction of cold meat and cheese, with your lewd company in
boots; fall a-drinking till supper time, be carried to bed, tossed out
of your cellar, and be good for nothing all the night after.
_Tim_. Well, madam, what is it you would be at? you shall find me
reasonable to all your propositions.
_Isa_. I have but one condition more to add; for I will be as
reasonable as you; and that is a very poor request--to have all the
money in my disposing.
_Tim_. How, all the money?
_Isa_. Ay, for I am sure I can huswife it better for your honour;
not but that I shall be willing to encourage you with pocket-money, or
so, sometimes.
_Tim_. This is somewhat hard.
_Isa_. Nay, if a woman cannot do that, I shall think you have
an ill opinion of my virtue: Not trust your own flesh and blood, Sir
Timorous?
_Tim_. Well, is there any thing more behind?
_Isa_. Nothing more, only the choice of my own company, my own
hours, and my own actions: These trifles granted me, in all things of
moment, I am your most obedient wife and servant, Isabella.
_Tim_. Is't a match, then?
_Isa_. For once I am content it shall; but 'tis to redeem you
from those rascals, Burr and Failer--that way, Sir Timorous, for fear
of spies; I'll meet you at the garden door. --[_Exit_ TIMOROUS. ] I
have led all women the way, if they dare but follow me.
_And now march off, if I can scape but spying,
With my drums beating, and my colours flying_.
[_Exit_.
_Burr_. So, their wooing's at an end; thanks to my wit.
_Enter_ FAILER.
_Fail_. O Burr! whither is it Sir Timorous and Madam Isabella are
gone together?
_Burr_. Adore my wit, boy; they are parted, never to meet again.
_Fail_. I saw them meet just now at the garden-door: So ho, ho,
ho, who's within there! Help here quickly, quickly.
_Enter_ NONSUCH _and two Servants_.
_Non_. What's the matter?
_Fail_. Your niece Isabella has stolen away Sir Timorous.
_Non_. Which way took they?
_Fail_. Follow me, I'll show you.
_Non_. Break your necks after him, you idle varlets.
[_Exeunt_.
SCENE II.
_Enter_ LOVEBY. LOVEBY'S _collar unbuttoned, band carelessly
on, hat on the table, as new risen from sleep_.
_Lov_. Boy! how long have I slept, boy?
_Enter Boy_.
_Boy_. Two hours and a half, sir.
_Lov_. What's a-clock, sirrah?
_Boy_. Near four, sir.
_Lov_. Why, there's it: I have promised my lady Constance an
hundred pounds ere night; I had four hours to perform it in, when I
engaged to do it; and I have slept out more than two of them. All
my hope to get this money lies within the compass of that hat there.
Before I lay down, I made bold a little to prick my finger, and write
a note, in the blood of it, to this same friend of mine in t'other
world, that uses to supply me: the devil has now had above two hours
to perform it in; all which time I have slept, to give him the better
opportunity: time enough for a gentleman of his agility to fetch it
from the East Indies, out of one of his temples where they worship
him; or, if he were lazy, and not minded to go so far, 'twere but
stepping over sea, and borrowing so much money out of his own bank at
Amsterdam: hang it, what's an hundred pounds between him and me?
Now does my heart go pit-a-pat, for fear I should not find the money
there: I would fain lift it up to see, and yet I am so afraid of
missing: Yet a plague, why should I fear he'll fail me; the name of a
friend's a sacred thing; sure he'll consider that. Methinks, this hat
looks as if it should have something under it: If one could see the
yellow boys peeping underneath the brims now: Ha! [_Looks under
round about_. ] In my conscience I think I do. Stand out o'the way,
sirrah, and be ready to gather up the pieces, that will flush out of
the hat as I take it up.
_Boy_. What, is my master mad, trow?
[LOVEBY _snatches up the hat, looks in it hastily, and sees nothing
but the paper_.
_Low_. Now, the devil take the devil! A plague! was ever man
served so as I am! [_Throws his hat upon the ground_. ] To break
the bands of amity for one hundred pieces! Well, it shall be more out
of thy way than thou imaginest, devil: I'll turn parson, and be at
open defiance with thee: I'll lay the wickedness of all people upon
thee, though thou art never so innocent; I'll convert thy bawds and
whores; I'll Hector thy gamesters, that they shall not dare to swear,
curse, or bubble; nay, I'll set thee out so, that thy very usurers and
aldermen shall fear to have to do with thee.
[_A noise within of_ ISABELLA _and_ FRANCES.
_Enter_ FRANCES, _thrusting back_ ISABELLA _and_
TIMOROUS.
_Franc_. How now, what's the matter?
_Isa_. Nay, sweet mistress, be not so hard-hearted; all I desire
of you is but harbour for a minute: you cannot, in humanity, deny that
small succour to a gentlewoman.
_Franc_. A gentlewoman! I thought so; my house, affords no
harbour for gentlewomen: you are a company of proud harlotries: I'll
teach you to take place of tradesmen's wives, with a wannion to you.
_Lov_. How's this! Madam Isabella!
_Isa_. Mr Loveby! how happy am I to meet with you in my distress!
_Lov_. What's the matter, madam?
_Isa_. I'll tell you, if this gentlewoman will give me leave.
_Franc_. No, gentlewoman, I will not give you leave; they are
such as we maintain your pride, as they say. [ISABELLA _and_
LOVEBY _whisper_. ] Our husbands trust you, and you must go before
their wives. I am sure my good-man never goes to any of your lodgings,
but he comes home the worse for it, as they say.
_Lov_. Is that all? pr'ythee, good landlady, for my sake
entertain my friends.
_Franc_. If the gentleman's worship had come alone, it may be I
might have entertained him; but for your minion!
_Enter_ NONSUCH, FAILER, BURR, _and Officers. Cry within, Here,
here_.
_Fail_. My lord, arrest Sir Timorous upon a promise of marriage
to your daughter, and we'll witness it.
_Tim_. Why, what a strange thing of you's this, madam Isabella,
to bring a man into trouble thus!
_Fail_. You are not yet married to her?
_Tim_. Not that I remember.
_Isa_. Well, Failer, I shall find a time to reward your
diligence.
_Lov_. If the knight would have owned his action, I should have
taught some of you more manners, than to come with officers into my
lodging.
_Franc_. I'm glad with all my heart this minx is prevented of her
design: the gentleman had got a great catch of her, as they say. His
old father in the country would have given him but little thanks
for it, to see him bring down a fine-bred woman, with a lute, and a
dressing-box, and a handful of money to her portion.
_Isa_. Good Mistress Whatdeelack! I know your quarrel to the
ladies; do they take up the gallants from the tradesmen's wives? Lord,
what a grievous thing it is, for a she citizen to be forced to have
children by her own husband!
_Franc_. Come, come, you're a slanderful huswife, and I squorn
your harlotry tricks, that I do, so I do.
_Isa_. Steeple-hat your husband never gets a good look when he
comes home, except he brings a gentleman to dinner; who, if he casts
an amorous eye towards you, then, "Trust him, good husband, sweet
husband, trust him for my sake: Verily the gentleman's an honest man,
I read it in his countenance: and if you should not be at home to
receive the money, I know he will pay the debt to me. " Is't not so,
mistress?
_Enter_ BIBBER _in slippers, with a skein of silk about his
neck_.
_Franc_. Will you see me wronged thus, under my own roof, as they
say, William?
_Isa_. Nay, 'tis very true, mistress: you let the men, with old
compliments, take up new clothes; I do not mean your wife's clothes,
Mr Merchant-Tailor.
_Bib_. Good, i'faith! a notable smart gentlewoman!
_Isa_. Look to your wife, sir, or, in time, she may undo your
trade; for she'll get all your men-customers to herself.
_Bib_. An' I should be hanged, I can forbear no longer. [_He
plucks out his measure, and runs to_ ISABELLA, _to take measure
of her_.
_Isa_. How now! what means Prince Pericles by this?
_Bib_. [_On his knees_. ] I must beg your ladyship e'en to
have the honour to trust you but for your gown, for the sake of that
last jest, flowered sattin, wrought tabby, silver upon any grounds; I
shall run mad if I may not trust your ladyship.
_Franc_. I think you are mad already, as they say, William: You
shall not trust her--
[_Plucks him back_.
_Bib_. Let me alone, Frances: I am a lion when I am angered.
_Isa_. Pray do not pull your lion by the tail so, mistress--In
these clothes, that he now takes measure of me for, will I marry Sir
Timorous; mark that, and tremble, Failer.
_Fail_. Never threaten me, madam; you're a person I despise.
_Isa_. I vow to gad, I'll be even with you, sir.
[_Exit_.
_Non_. [_To the Bailiff's_. ]--And when you have arrested
him, be sure you search him for my gold.
_Bailiffs_. [_To_ LOVEBY. ] We arrest you, sir, at my Lord
Nonsuch's suit.
_Lov_. Me, you rascals!
_Non_. Search him for my gold; you know the marks on't.
_Lov_. If they can find any marked or unmarked gold about me,
they'll find more than I can. You expect I should resist now; no, no;
I'll hamper you for this.
_Bail_. There's nothing to be found about him.
_Fail_. 'Tis no matter, to prison with him; there all his debts
will come upon him.
_Lov_. What, hurried to durance, like a stinkard!
_Job_. Now, as I live, a pleasant gentleman; I could find in my
heart to bail him; but I'll overcome myself, and steal away. [_Is
going_.
_Bail_.