That loves you:

I have twenty pounds here,

Which out of my true love, I'll presently

Lay down at your worship's feet; 'twill serve to buy

you

A riding suit.

Well. But where's the horse?
Mar. My gelding

Is at your service: nay, you shall ride me,
Before your worship shall be put to the trouble
To walk afoot. Alas! when you are lord

Of this lady's manor, (as I know you will be),
You may with the lease of glebe land, call'd Knave's
Acre,

A place I would manure, requite your vassal.

Well. I thank thy love; but will make no use of it. Did I want clothes, think'st thou I could not have 'em For one word to my lady?

Mar. As I know not that

Well. Come, I'll tell thee a secret, and so leave thee. I'll not give her the advantage, though she be

A gallant-minded lady, after we're married

To hit me in the teeth, and say, she was forc'd
To buy my wedding clothes.-

No, I'll be furnish'd something like myself,

And so farewell.-For thy suit touching Knave's Acre, When it is mine, 'tis thine.

Mar. I thank your worship.

[Exit WELLBORN, R.

How was I cozen'd in the calculation

Of this man's fortune! My master cozen'd too,
Whose pupil I am in the art of undoing men;

For that is our profession. Well, well, Master Wellborn;

You are of a sweet nature, and fit again to be cheated;
Which, if the fates please, when you are possess'd
Of the land and lady, you sans question shall be,
I'll presently think of the means. [Musing, R. c.
Sir G. [Without.] Sirrah, take my horse,
I'll walk, to get me an appetite; 'tis but a mile;
And exercise will keep me from being pursy.

Enter SIR GILES, L.

Ha! Marrall!-Is he conjuring? Perhaps
The knave has wrought the prodigal to do
Some outrage on himself, and now he feels

Compunction in his conscience for't: no matter,
So it be done.-Marrall! Marrall!

Mar. (R. c.) Sir?

Sir G. (L. c.) How succeed we

In our plot on Wellborn?

Mar. Never better, sir.

Sir G. Has he hang'd or drown'd himself?
Mar. No, sir, he lives;

Lives, once more to be made a prey to you,
A greater prey than ever.

Sir G. Art thou in thy wits?

If thou art, reveal this miracle, and briefly.
Mar. A lady, sir, is fallen in love with him.
Sir G. With him! What lady?

Mar. The rich Lady Allworth.

Sir G. Thou dolt! how dar'st thou speak this?
Mar. I speak truth,

And I do so but once a-year, unless

It be to you, sir. We din'd with her ladyship,
I thank his worship.

Sir G. His worship!

Mar. As I live, sir,

I din'd with him, at the great lady's table,

Simple as I stand here; and saw when she kiss'd him, And would, at his request, have kiss'd me too.

Sir G. Why thou rascal !

To tell me these impossibilities.

Dine at her table! and kiss him! or thee!

Impudent varlet, have not I myself,

Ten times attempted, since her husband's death,

In vain, to see her, though I came a suitor?

And yet your good solicitorship, and rogue Wellborn,
Were brought into her presence, feasted with her!-
But that I know thee a dog that cannot blush,
This most incredible lie would call up one

On thy buttermilk cheeks.

Mar. Shall I not trust my eyes, sir,

Or taste? I feel her good cheer in my belly.

Sir G. You shall feel me, if you give not over,

sirrah:

Recover your brains again, and be no more gull'd

With a beggar's plot, assisted by the aids

Of serving-men and chambermaids;

Or I'll quit you

From my employments.

Mar. Will you credit this yet?

On my confidence of their marriage, I offer'd Well

born

I'd give a crown now I durst say his worship, [Aside. My nag and twenty pounds.

Sir G. Did you so, idiot?

[Strikes him-MARRALL retreats to R.

Was this the way to work him to despair,

Or rather to cross me?

Mar. Will your worship kill me?

[Beats him.

Sir G. No, no; but drive the lying spirit out of you. Mar. He's gone.

Sir G. I've done then. Now, forgetting

Your late imaginary feast and lady,

Know, my lord Lovell dines with me to-morrow:

Be careful nought be wanting to receive him;

And bid my daughter's women trim her up,

Though they paint her, so she catch the lord, I'll thank 'em.

There's a piece, for my late blows.

Mar. [Aside, L.] I may yet cry quittance;

There may be a time

Sir G. (R.) Do you grumble?

Mar. No, sir.

END OF ACT II.

[Crosses to R.

[Exeunt, R.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-The Skirts of Lady Allworth's Park.

Enter LOVELL and ALLWORth, l.

Lov. [Speaking as he enters.] Drive the coach round the hill: something in private

I must impart to Allworth.

Allw. (L. c.) O, my lord,

What sacrifice of rev'rence, duty, watching,
Although I could put off the use of sleep,
And ever wait on your commands to serve 'em ;

What dangers, though in ne'er so horrid shapes,
Nay death itself, though I should run to meet it,
Can I, and with a thankful willingness, suffer;
But still the retribution will fall short
Of your bounties shower'd upon me!
Lov. (R.c.) Nay, good youth,

Till what I purpose be put into act,

Do not o'erprize it. Since you've trusted me
With your soul's nearest, nay, her dearest secret,
Rest confident, 'tis in a cabinet lock'd

Treachery shall never open. I have found you
More zealous in your love and service to me,
Than I have been in my rewards.

Allw. Still great ones,

Above my merit,

You have been

More like a father to me than a master: 'Pray you, pardon the comparison.

Lov. I allow it;

And to give you assurance I am pleas'd in't,
My carriage and demeanour to your mistress,
Fair Margaret, shall truly witness for me,
I can command my passions.

Allw. "Tis a conquest

Few men can boast of, when they are tempted.-Oh! Lov. Why do you sigh? Can you be doubtful of me? By that fair name I in the wars have purchas'd,

And all my actions, hitherto untainted,

I will not be more true to mine own honour,

Than to thee, Allworth!

Allw. Were you to encounter with a single foe, The victory were certain: but to stand

The charge of two such potent enemies,

At once assaulting you, as wealth and beauty,
And those too seconded with power, is odds
Too great for Hercules.

Lov. Speak your doubts and fears,

Since you will nourish'em, in plainer language,

That I may understand'em.

Allw. My much-lov'd lord, were Margaret only fair,

You might command your passion;

But, when the well-tun'd accents of her tongue

Make music to you, and with numerous sounds

Assault your hearing,

Hippolytus himself would leave Diana,

To follow such a Venus.

Lov. Love hath made you

Poetical, Allworth.

Allw. Grant all these beat off,

(Which if it be in man to do, you'll do it,)
Mammon, in Sir Giles Overreach, steps in
With heaps of ill-got gold, and as much land
As would tire

A falcon's wings, in one day to fly over.

I here release your trust:

"Tis happiness enough for me, to serve you,
And sometimes, with chaste eyes, to look upon her.
Lov. Why, shall I swear?

Allw. O, by no means, my lord!

Lov. Suspend

Your judgment to the trial. How far is't

To Overreach's house?

Allw. At the most, some half hour's riding; You'll soon be there.

Lov. And you the sooner freed

From your jealous fears.

Allw. Oh, that I durst but hope it!

[Exeunt, R.

SCENE II.-The Hall in Sir Giles's House.

Enter SIR GILES, GREEDY, and MARRALL, L. U. E. SIR G. and MAR. remain up stage.-GREEDY advances to front.

Sir G. (c.) Spare for no cost; let my dressers crack with the weight

Of curious viands.

Gree. Store indeed's no sore, sir.

Sir G. That proverb fits your stomach, master Greedy.

Gree. (c.) It does indeed, Sir Giles: I do not like to see a table ill-spread, poor, meagre, just sprinkled o'er with salads, slic'd beef, giblets, and pig's pettitoes. But the substantials-O, Sir Giles, the substantials! The state of a fat turkey now! the decorum, the grandeur, he marches in with! O, I declare, I do

much honour a chine of beef! O, I do reverence a loin of veal!

Sir G. (L. c.) And let no plate be seen, but what's pure gold,

Or such whose workmanship exceeds the matter
That is made of: let my choicest linen