A room in Lucre’s house
Enter Lucre with Gentlemen [and Host], meeting Sam Freedom.
LUCRE
My son-in-law, Sam Freedom! Where’s my nephew?
SAM
O man in lamentation, father!
LUCRE
How?
SAM
He thumps his breast like a gallant dicer that has lost his doublet, and stands in’s shirt to do penance.
LUCRE
Alas, poor gentleman.
SAM
I warrant you may hear him sigh in a still evening to your house at Highgate.
LUCRE
I prithee, send him in.
SAM
Were it to do a greater matter, I will not stick with you, sir, in regard you married my mother.
[Exit.]
LUCRE
Sweet gentlemen, cheer him up; I will but fetch the mortgage, and return to you instantly.
Exit.
FIRST GENTLEMAN
We’ll do our best, sir.
[Enter Witgood.]
See where he comes,
E’en joyless and regardless of all form.
SECOND GENTLEMAN
Why, how, Master Witgood? Fie, you a firm scholar, and an understanding gentleman, and give your best parts to passion?
FIRST GENTLEMAN
Come, fie!
WITGOOD
Oh, gentlemen —
FIRST GENTLEMAN
Sorrow of me, what a sigh was there, sir!
Nine such widows are not worth it.
WITGOOD
To be borne from me by that lecher, Hoard!
FIRST GENTLEMAN
That vengeance is your uncle’s, being done
More in despite to him, than wrong to you.
But we bring comfort now.
WITGOOD
I beseech you, gentlemen —
SECOND GENTLEMAN
Cheer thyself, man, there’s hope of her, i’faith!
WITGOOD
Too gladsome to be true.
Enter Lucre.
LUCRE
Nephew, what cheer?
Alas, poor gentleman, how art thou changed!
Call thy fresh blood into thy cheeks again:
She comes —
WITGOOD
Nothing afflicts me so much
But that it is your adversary, uncle,
And merely plotted in despite of you.
LUCRE
Ay, that’s it mads me, spites me! I’ll spend my wealth ere he shall carry her so, because I know ’tis only to spite me. Ay, this is it. Here, nephew [gives him a paper], before these kind gentlemen I deliver in your mortgage, my promise to the widow; see, ’tis done. Be wise, you’re once more master of your own; the widow shall perceive now you are not altogether such a beggar as the world reputes you: you can make shift to bring her to three hundred a year, sir.
FIRST GENTLEMAN
Berlady, and that’s no toy, sir.
LUCRE
A word, nephew.
FIRST GENTLEMAN
[To Host] Now you may certify the widow.
LUCRE
You must conceive it aright, nephew, now;
To do you good I am content to do this.
WITGOOD
I know it, sir.
LUCRE
But your own conscience can tell I had it
Dearly enough of you.
WITGOOD
Ay, that’s most certain.
LUCRE
Much money laid out, beside many a journey
To fetch the rent; I hope you’ll think on’t, nephew.
WITGOOD
I were worse than a beast else, i’faith.
LUCRE
Although to blind the widow and the world
I out of policy do’t, yet there’s a conscience, nephew.
WITGOOD
Heaven forbid else!
LUCRE
When you are full possessed,
’Tis nothing to return it.
WITGOOD
Alas, a thing quickly done, uncle.
LUCRE
Well said! You know I give it you but in trust.
WITGOOD
Pray let me understand you rightly, uncle:
You give it me but in trust?
LUCRE
No.
WITGOOD
That is, you trust me with it.
LUCRE
True, true.
WITGOOD
[Aside] But if ever I trust you with it again, would I might be trussed up for my labour!
LUCRE
You can all witness, gentlemen, and you, sir yeoman?
HOST
My life for yours, sir, now I know my mistress’s mind too well toward your nephew; let things be in preparation and I’ll train her hither in most excellent fashion.
Exit.
LUCRE
A good old boy. Wife, [Jinny]!
Enter Wife.
WIFE
What’s the news, sir?
LUCRE
The wedding day’s at hand: prithee, sweet wife, express thy housewifery; thou’rt a fine cook, I know’t; thy first husband married thee out of an alderman’s kitchen; go to, he raised thee for raising of paste. What! Here’s none but friends; most of our beginnings must be winked at. Gentlemen, I invite you all to my nephew’s wedding against Thursday morning.
FIRST GENTLEMAN
With all our hearts, and we shall joy to see
Your enemy so mocked.
LUCRE
He laughed at me,
Gentleman; ha, ha, ha!
Exeunt [all but Witgood].
WITGOOD
He had no conscience, faith,
Would laugh at them; they laugh at one another!
Who then can be so cruel? Troth, not I;
I rather pity now than aught envy.
I do conceive such joy in mine own happiness,
I have no leisure yet to laugh at their follies.
Thou soul of my estate I kiss thee,
I miss life’s comfort when I miss thee.
Oh, never will we part again,
Until I leave the sight of men.
We’ll ne’er trust conscience of own kin,
Since cozenage brings that title in.
[Exit.]