Scene
III
An outer room in the same.
Enter Lovewit in the Spanish dress, with the Parson. Loud knocking at the door.
Lovewit
What do you mean, my masters?
Sir Epicure Mammon
Without. Open your door,
Cheaters, bawds, conjurers.
Officer
Without. Or we will break it open.
Lovewit
What warrant have you?
Officer
Without. Warrant enough, sir, doubt not,
If you’ll not open it.
Lovewit
Is there an officer, there?
Officer
Without. Yes, two or three for failing.
Lovewit
Have but patience,
And I will open it straight.
Enter Face, as butler.
Face
Sir, have you done?
Is it a marriage? Perfect?
Lovewit
Yes, my brain.
Face
Off with your ruff and cloak then; be yourself, sir.
Pertinax Surly
Without. Down with the door.
Kastril
Without. ’Slight, ding it open.
Lovewit
Opening the door. Hold,
Hold, gentlemen, what means this violence?
Mammon, Surly, Kastril, Ananias, Tribulation, and Officers, rush in.
Sir Epicure Mammon
Where is this collier?
Pertinax Surly
And my Captain Face?
Sir Epicure Mammon
These day owls.
Pertinax Surly
That are birding in men’s purses.
Sir Epicure Mammon
Madam Suppository.
Kastril
Doxy, my sister.
Ananias
Locusts
Of the foul pit.
Tribulation Wholesome
Profane as Bel and the dragon.
Ananias
Worse than the grasshoppers, or the lice of Egypt.
Lovewit
Good gentlemen, hear me. Are you officers,
And cannot stay this violence?
1 Officer
Keep the peace.
Lovewit
Gentlemen, what is the matter? Whom do you seek?
Sir Epicure Mammon
The chemical cozener.
Pertinax Surly
And the Captain pander.
Kastril
The nun my sister.
Sir Epicure Mammon
Madam Rabbi.
Ananias
Scorpions,
And caterpillars.
Lovewit
Fewer at once, I pray you.
2 Officer
One after another, gentlemen, I charge you,
By virtue of my staff.
Ananias
They are the vessels
Of pride, lust, and the cart.
Lovewit
Good zeal, lie still
A little while.
Tribulation Wholesome
Peace, deacon Ananias.
Lovewit
The house is mine here, and the doors are open;
If there be any such persons as you seek for,
Use your authority, search on o’ God’s name.
I am but newly come to town, and finding
This tumult ’bout my door, to tell you true,
It somewhat mazed me; till my man, here, fearing
My more displeasure, told me he had done
Somewhat an insolent part, let out my house
(Belike, presuming on my known aversion
From any air o’ the town while there was sickness,)
To a Doctor and a Captain: who, what they are
Or where they be, he knows not.
Sir Epicure Mammon
Are they gone?
Lovewit
You may go in and search, sir.
Mammon, Ananias, and Tribulation go in.
Here, I find
The empty walls worse than I left them, smoked,
A few cracked pots, and glasses, and a furnace:
The ceiling filled with poesies of the candle,
And madam with a dildo writ o’ the walls:
Only one gentlewoman, I met here,
That is within, that said she was a widow—
Kastril
Ay, that’s my sister; I’ll go thump her. Where is she?
Goes in.
Lovewit
And should have married a Spanish Count, but he,
When he came to’t, neglected her so grossly,
That I, a widower, am gone through with her.
Pertinax Surly
How! Have I lost her then?
Lovewit
Were you the Don, sir?
Good faith, now, she does blame you extremely, and says
You swore, and told her you had taken the pains
To dye your beard, and umber o’er your face,
Borrowed a suit, and ruff, all for her love;
And then did nothing. What an oversight,
And want of putting forward, sir, was this!
Well fare an old harquebuzier, yet,
Could prime his powder, and give fire, and hit,
All in a twinkling!
Reenter Mammon.
Sir Epicure Mammon
The whole nest are fled!
Lovewit
What sort of birds were they?
Sir Epicure Mammon
A kind of choughs,
Or thievish daws, sir, that have picked my purse
Of eight score and ten pounds within these five weeks,
Beside my first materials; and my goods,
That lie in the cellar, which I am glad they have left,
I may have home yet.
Lovewit
Think you so, sir?
Sir Epicure Mammon
Ay.
Lovewit
By order of law, sir, but not otherwise.
Sir Epicure Mammon
Not mine own stuff!
Lovewit
Sir, I can take no knowledge
That they are yours, but by public means.
If you can bring certificate that you were gulled of them,
Or any formal writ out of a court,
That you did cozen yourself, I will not hold them.
Sir Epicure Mammon
I’ll rather lose them.
Lovewit
That you shall not, sir,
By me, in troth: upon these terms, they are yours.
What! Should they have been, sir, turned into gold, all?
Sir Epicure Mammon
No,
I cannot tell—It may be they should.—What then?
Lovewit
What a great loss in hope have you sustained!
Sir Epicure Mammon
Not I, the Commonwealth has.
Face
Ay, he would have built
The city new; and made a ditch about it
Of silver, should have run with cream from Hogsden;
That every Sunday, in Moorfields, the younkers,
And tits and tomboys should have fed on, gratis.
Sir Epicure Mammon
I will go mount a turnip-cart, and preach
The end of the world, within these two months. Surly,
What! In a dream?
Pertinax Surly
Must I needs cheat myself,
With that same foolish vice of honesty!
Come, let us go and hearken out the rogues:
That Face I’ll mark for mine, if e’er I meet him.
Face
If I can hear of him, sir, I’ll bring you word,
Unto your lodging; for in troth, they were strangers
To me, I thought them honest as myself, sir.
Exeunt Mammon and Surly.
Reenter Ananias and Tribulation.
Tribulation Wholesome
’Tis well, the saints shall not lose all yet. Go,
And get some carts—
Lovewit
For what, my zealous friends?
Ananias
To bear away the portion of the righteous
Out of this den of thieves.
Lovewit
What is that portion?
Ananias
The goods sometimes the orphan’s, that the Brethren
Bought with their silver pence.
Lovewit
What, those in the cellar,
The knight Sir Mammon claims?
Ananias
I do defy
The wicked Mammon, so do all the Brethren,
Thou profane man! I ask thee with what conscience
Thou canst advance that idol against us,
That have the seal? Were not the shillings numbered,
That made the pounds; were not the pounds told out,
Upon the second day of the fourth week,
In the eighth month, upon the table dormant,
The year of the last patience of the saints,
Six hundred and ten?
Lovewit
Mine earnest vehement botcher,
And deacon also, I cannot dispute with you:
But if you get you not away the sooner,
I shall confute you with a cudgel.
Ananias
Sir!
Tribulation Wholesome
Be patient, Ananias.
Ananias
I am strong,
And will stand up, well girt, against an host
That threaten Gad in exile.
Lovewit
I shall send you
To Amsterdam, to your cellar.
Ananias
I will pray there,
Against thy house: may dogs defile thy walls,
And wasps and hornets breed beneath thy roof,
This seat of falsehood, and this cave of cozenage!
Exeunt Ananias and Tribulation.
Enter Drugger.
Lovewit
Another too?
Drugger
Not I, sir, I am no Brother.
Lovewit
Beats him. Away, you Harry Nicholas! Do you talk?
Exit Drugger.
Face
No, this was Abel Drugger. Good sir, go,
To the Parson.
And satisfy him; tell him all is done:
He stayed too long a washing of his face.
The Doctor, he shall hear of him at Westchester;
And of the Captain, tell him, at Yarmouth, or
Some good port town else, lying for a wind.
Exit Parson.
If you can get off the angry child, now, sir—
Enter Kastril, dragging in his sister.
Kastril
Come on, you ewe, you have matched most sweetly,
have you not?
Did not I say, I would never have you tupped
But by a dubbed boy, to make you a lady tom?
’Slight, you are a mammet! O, I could touse you, now.
Death, mun’ you marry, with a pox!
Lovewit
You lie, boy;
As sound as you; and I’m aforehand with you.
Kastril
Anon!
Lovewit
Come, will you quarrel? I will feize you, sirrah;
Why do you not buckle to your tools?
Kastril
Od’s light,
This is a fine old boy as e’er I saw!
Lovewit
What, do you change your copy now? Proceed;
Here stands my dove: stoop at her, if you dare.
Kastril
’Slight, I must love him! I cannot choose, i’faith,
An I should be hanged for’t! Sister, I protest,
I honour thee for this match.
Lovewit
O, do you so, sir?
Kastril
Yes, an thou canst take tobacco and drink, old boy,
I’ll give her five hundred pound more to her marriage,
Than her own state.
Lovewit
Fill a pipe full, Jeremy.
Face
Yes; but go in and take it, sir.
Lovewit
We will—
I will be ruled by thee in anything, Jeremy.
Kastril
’Slight, thou art not hidebound, thou art a jovy boy!
Come, let us in, I pray thee, and take our whiffs.
Lovewit
Whiff in with your sister, brother boy.
Exeunt Kastril and Dame Pliant.
That master
That had received such happiness by a servant,
In such a widow, and with so much wealth,
Were very ungrateful, if he would not be
A little indulgent to that servant’s wit,
And help his fortune, though with some small strain
Of his own candour.
Advancing.
—“Therefore, gentlemen,
And kind spectators, if I have outstript
An old man’s gravity, or strict canon, think
What a young wife and a good brain may do;
Stretch age’s truth sometimes, and crack it too.
Speak for thyself, knave.”
Face
“So I will, sir.”
Advancing to the front of the stage.
“Gentlemen,
My part a little fell in this last scene,
Yet ’twas decorum. And though I am clean
Got off from Subtle, Surly, Mammon, Dol,
Hot Ananias, Dapper, Drugger, all
With whom I traded: yet I put myself
On you, that are my country: and this pelf
Which I have got, if you do quit me, rests
To feast you often, and invite new guests.”