Well. Why thou unthankful villain, dar'st thou talk thus! Is not thy house, and all thou hast, my gift? Tap. I find it not in chalk; and Timothy Tapwell Does keep no other register. Well. Am not I he Whose riots fed and cloth'd thee? Wert thou not Tap. What I was, sir, it skills not; What you are is apparent: but, since you My quondam master, was a man of worship; Bore the whole sway of the shire, kept a great house, Late master Francis, but now forlorn Wellborn- You cannot out of your way. Tap. You were then a lord of acres, the prime gal lant, And I your under butler. O you'd merry time of't; hawks and hounds, Well. Some curate hath penn'd this invective, mongrel, And you have studied it. Tap. I've not done yet; Your land gone, and your credit not worth a token, Thou could'st arrive at forty pounds, thou would'st Tap. I must, sir! For, from the tavern to the taphouse, all, Well. They're well rewarded, That beggar themselves to make such rascals rich. But, since you're grown forgetful, I will help Tap. O! O! O! Froth. Help, help! [Beats him over to L. Enter ALLWORTH, R. Allw. Hold, for my sake, hold; [Catches WELLBORN's arm. Deny me, Frank? They are not worth your anger. Well. For once, thou hast redeem'd them from this [Shaking his cudgel. sceptre. But let 'em vanish ; Nay, if you grumble, I revoke my pardon. [WELL. and ALLw. talk apart. Froth. This comes of your prating husband. Tap. Patience, Froth; There's law to cure our bruises. [Exeunt TAP. and FROTH into the Alehouse, L. s. E. Well. (L.) Sent to your mother? Allw. (R.) My lady, Frank, my patroness, my all! She's such a mourner for my father's death, And, in her love to him, so favours me, I cannot pay too much observance to her : Well. "Tis a noble widow, And keeps her reputation pure and clear. Has she no suitors ? Allw. (R.) E'en the best of the shire, Frank, My lord excepted: such as sue and send, And send and sue again: but to no purpose. Their frequent visits have not gain'd her presence; Yet she's so far from sullenness and pride, That, I dare undertake, you shall meet from her Well. (L.) I doubt it not. Now, Allworth, listen to me, And mark my counsel: I am bound to give it. I will not have the least affront stick on thee, Allw. I thank your noble care: but, pray you, in what Do I run the hazard? Well. Art thou not in love? Put it not off with wonder. Allw. In love? Well. You think you walk in clouds, but are transpa rent. I've heard all, and the choice that you have made; Of cormorant Overreach? Dost blush and start, Allw. Howe'er you have discover'd my intents, Well. Grant this true, As I believe it, canst thou ever hope To enjoy a quiet bed with her, whose father Allw. And your's too. Well. I confess it, Allworth. Or can'st thou think, if self-love blind thee not, That Sir Giles Overreach, who, to make her great In swelling titles, without touch of conscience, Will cut his neighbour's throat, and, I hope, his own too, Will e'er consent to make her thine? Give o'er, Thou could'st arrive at forty pounds, thou would'st Tap. I must, sir! For, from the tavern to the taphouse, all, Well. They're well rewarded, That beggar themselves to make such rascals rich. But, since you're grown forgetful, I will help Tap. O! O! O! Froth. Help, help! [Beats him over to L. Enter ALLWORTH, R. Allw. Hold, for my sake, hold; [Catches WELLBORN's arm. Deny me, Frank? They are not worth your anger. Well. For once, thou hast redeem'd them from this [Shaking his cudgel. sceptre. But let 'em vanish ; Nay, if you grumble, I revoke my pardon. [WELL. and ALLW. talk apart. Froth. This comes of your prating husband. Tap. Patience, Froth; There's law to cure our bruises. [Exeunt TAP. and FROTH into the Alehouse, L. s. E. Well. (L.) Sent to your mother? Allm. (R.) My lady, Frank, my patroness, my all! She's such a mourner for my father's death, And, in her love to him, so favours me, I cannot pay too much observance to her: Well. "Tis a noble widow, And keeps her reputation pure and clear. Has she no suitors? Allw. (R.) E'en the best of the shire, Frank, such as sue and send, ain: but to no purpose. Fur. (L.C.) Let him; I'll be angry. Amb. (R.) Why, fellow Furnace, 'tis not twelve o'clock yet, Nor dinner taken up; then, 'tis allow'd, Cooks, by their places, may be choleric. Fur. You think you've spoken wisely, goodman Amble, My lady's go-before. Ord. Nay, nay, no wrangling. Fur. Twit me with the authority of the kitchen! Amb. There was no hurt meant. [Crosses to FURNACE, and shakes hands. Fur. (L. c.) I'm friends with thee; and yet I will be angry. Wat. (L.) With whom? Fur. (c.) No matter whom: yet, now I think on't, I'm angry with my lady. Amb. (R.) Heaven forbid, man! Ord. What cause has she given thee? I was entertain'd by her to please her palate. Though I crack my brains to find out tempting sauces, And the fourth part parboil'd, to prepare her viands, By such as pretend love to her; but come Ord. Justice Greedy? Fur. The same, the same. him; Meat's cast away upon It never thrives. He holds this paradox; Wat. One knocks. [A knocking without, L. [Exit WATCHALL, L. |