The British Drama: A Collection of the Most Esteemed Tragedies, Comedies ...

A NEW WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS:

A COMEDY,

IN FIVE ACTS.

BY PHILIP MASSINGER.

REMARKS.

It has been said, that Massinger surpassed all the writers of the “olden time" in purity of style and delicacy of manners; many have considered him as second only to Shakspeare. The immoral conduct of the drama in that age renders such an admission of slight value now, but it may fairly be conceded, that the writer of this comedy, of the City Madam, (on which Sir J. Burgess has framed "Riches,") of the Fatal Dowry, and many others, possessed a mind of no ordinary or limited capability. Mr. Gifford, the able editor of Massinger, is of opinion that a real person was aimed at in Sir Giles Overreach: fortunately for mankind, such monstrous deviations from "nature and from nature's laws" do not often appear, but there can be little doubt of their reality, The variety of character and incident in this play, the strong and lively picture of domestic manners, the sorious moral so distinctly deducible from it, are qualities sufficient to veil greater faults than can fairly be attached to this production.

The animated performance of the principal character by Mr. Cooke, and since by Mr. Kean with increased effect, have placed this comedy on the stock-list of our Royal Theatres.

Tap. I find it not in chalk, Sir; and Timothy

Tapwell

Does keep no other register.

Well. Am I not he

Froth. This comes of your prating husband; you presum'd on your ambling wit, and must u your glib tongue, though you are beaten lame fort. Tap. Patience, Froth,

Whose riots fed and cloth'd thee? Wert thou not There's law to cure our bruises.

Born on my father's land, and proud to be
A drudge in his house?

Tap. What I was, Sir, it skills not;
What you are is apparent. Now for a farewell;
Since you talk of father, in my hope it will tor-
ment you,

I'll briefly tell your story. Your dead father,
Old Sir John Wellborn,

My quondam master, was a man of worship;
Bore the whole sway of the shire; kept a good
house;

Reliev'd the poor, and so forth; but he dying,
And the twelve hundred a year coming to you,
Late master Francis, but now forlorn Wellborn-
Well. Slave, stop! or I shall lose myself.
Froth. Very hardly.

You cannot be out of your way.

[gallant,
Tap. You were then a lord of acres, the prime
And I your under butler:-note the change now:
You had a merry time of 't. Hawks and hounds,
With choice of running horses; mistresses,
And other such extravagances;

Which your uncle, Sir Giles Overreach, observing,
Resolving not to lose so fair an opportunity,
On foolish mortgages, statutes, and bonds,
For awhile supplied your lavishness, and then left
[mongrel,
Well. Some curate has penn'd this invective,
And you have studied it.

you.

Tap. I have not done yet.

Your lands gone, and your credit not worth a token,
You grew the common borrower; no man 'scap'd
Your paper pellets, from the gentleman to the
groom;

While I, honest Tim Tapwell, with a little stock,
Some forty pounds or so, bought a small cottage,
And humbled myself to marriage with my Froth
here.

Well. Hear me, ungrateful hell-hound! did not I
Make purses for you? then you lick'd my boots,
And thought your holiday cloak too coarse to

clean 'em.

'Twas I, that when I heard thee swear, if ever
Thou couldst arrive at forty pounds, thou wouldst
Live like an emperor; 'twas I that gave it,
In ready gold. Deny this, wretch!
Tap. I must, Sir."

For from the tavern to the tap-house, all,
On forfeiture of their licence, stand bound

Never to remember who their best guests were,
If they grow poor like you.

Well. They are well rewarded

That beggar themselves to make such rascals rich.
Thou viper, thankless viper!

But since you are grown forgetful, I will help
Your memory, and beat thee into remembrance;
Nor leave one bone unbroken.

[Beats him.

Deny me, Frank? they are not worth your anger.
Well. For once thou hast redeem'd them from

[Exeunt TAPWELL and FROTH into the house.
Well. Sent for to your mother?

Allw. 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,
That I cannot pay too much observance to her.
There are few such step-dames.

Well. 'Tis a noble widow,
And keeps her reputation pure, and clear
From the least taint of infamy; but
Pr'ythee tell me, has she no suitors.

Allw. Even the best of the shire, Frank,
My lord excepted: such as sue and send,
And send and sue again; but to no purpose,
Yet she's so far from sullenness and pride,
That I dare undertake you shall meet from her
A liberal entertainment.

Well. I doubt it not.

Now, Allworth, mark my counsel. I am bound
to give it.

Thy father was my friend; and that affection
I bore to him, in right descends to thee:
I will not see the least affront stick on thee,
If I, with any danger can prevent it.
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.

[transparent.

Allw. In love, at my years?
Well. You think you walk in clouds, but are
I have heard all, and the choice that you have made;
And, with my finger, can point out the north star
By which the loadstone of your folly 's guided.
And to confirm this true, what think you of
Fair Margaret, the only child and heir
Of cormorant Overreach? Dost blush and start,
To hear her only nam'd? Blush at your want
Of wit and reason.

Allw. Howe'er you have discover'd my intents,
You know my aims are lawful; and if ever
The queen of flowers, the glory of the spring,
Sprung from an envious briar, I may infer,
There's such disparity in their conditions
Between the goddess of my soul, the daughter,
And the base churl, her father.

Well. Grant this true,

As I believe it; canst thou ever hope
To enjoy a quiet bed with her, whose father
Ruin'd thy 'state.

Allw. And your's too.

Well. I confess it, Allworth;

I must tell you as a friend, and freely,
That, where impossibilities are apparent,
'Tis indiscretion to nourish hopes.

Or canst thou think (if self love blind thee not)
That Sir Giles Overreach (that to make her great
In swelling titles, without touch of conscience,
Will cut his neighbours throat, and I hope his

own too)

Will e'er consent to make her thine? Give c'er,
And think of some course suitable to thy rank,
And prosper in it.

Allw. You have well advis'd me.
But, in the meanwhile, you, that are so studious
Of my affairs, wholly neglect your own.
Remember yourself, and in what olight you are.

Well. No matter, no matter.
Allw. Yes, 'tis much material:

You know my fortune and my means: yet something

I can spare from myself, to help your wants.

Well. How's this?

All. Nay, be not angry.

Well. Money from thee?

From a boy? one that lives

[Offers money.

At the devotion of a step-mother,
And the uncertain favour of a lord?

I'll eat my arms first. Howsoe'er blind Fortune
Hath spent the utmost of her malice on me;
Though I am thrust out of an alehouse,
And thus accoutred; know not where to eat,
Or drink, or sleep, but underneath this canopy;
Although I thank thee, I disdain thy offer.
And as I, in my madness, broke my state
Without th' assistance of another's brain,
In my right wits I'll piece it; at the worst,
Die thus, and be forgotten.
All. Fare thee well.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE II-A Room in LADY ALLWORTH'S

House.

Enter ORDER, AMBLE, and FURNACE.

Order. Set all things right, or, as my name is Order,

Whoever misses in his function,

[fast,

For one whole week makes forfeiture of his break-
And privilege in the wine cellar.
Amble. You are merry,

Good master steward.

Fur. Let him; I'll be angry.

If you have a stomach, a cold bake-meat 's ready.
Order. His father's picture in little.
Fur. We are all your servants.

Allw. At once, my thanks to all;
This is some comfort. Is my lady stirring?

Enter LADY ALLWORTH.

Order. Her presence answers for us.
Lady A. I'll take the air alone.

And, as I gave directions, if this morning
I am visited by any, entertain 'em
As heretofore; but say, in my excuse,
I am indispos'd.

Order. I shall, Madam.

Lady A. Do, and leave me.

[Exit ORDER, AMBLE, &c.

Nay, stay you, Allworth.
How is it with your noble master?
Allw. Ever like himself;

No scruple lessen'd in the full weight of honour.
He did command me, (pardon my presumption,)
As his unworthy deputy, to kiss

Amble. Why, fellow Furnace, 'tis not twelve Your ladyship's fair hands.

o'clock yet,

Nor dinner taking up; then 'tis allow'd,

Cooks, by their places, may be choleric.

Fur. You think you have spoken wisely, goodman Amble,

My lady's go-before.

Order. Nay, nay, no wrangling.

Fur. Twit me with the authority of the kitchen? At all hours, and at all places, I'll be angry; And, thus provok'd, when I am at my prayers I will be angry.

Amble. There was no hurt meant.

Lady A. I am honour'd in

His favour to me. Does he hold his purpose
For the Low Countries?

Allw. Constantly, good Madam;

But he will in person first present his service.
Lady A. What say you to his purpose? You are
Like virgin parchment, capable of any
Inscription, vicious or honourable.

I will not force your will, but leave you free
To your own election.

Allw. Any form you please

I will put on; but, might I make my choice,

Fur. I am friends with thee, and yet I will be With humble emulation I would follow

angry.

Order. With whom?

The path my lord marks to me.

Lady A. 'Tis well answer'd,

Fur. No matter whom; yet, now I think on't, And I commend your spirit. You had a father

I'm angry with my lady.

Amble. Heaven forbid, man.

Order. What cause has she given thee?
Fur. Cause enough, master steward;
I was entertain'd by her to please her palate,
And, till she forswore eating, I perform'd it.
Now since our master, noble Allworth, died,
Though I crack my brain to find out tempting
When I am three parts roasted, [sauces,
And the fourth part parboiled, to prepare her
viands,

She keeps her chamber, dines with a panada
Or water gruel; my sweat ne'er thought on.
Order. But your art is seen in the dining-room.
Fur. By whom?

By such as pretend to love her, but come
To feed upon her. Yet, of all the harpies
That do devour her, I am out of charity

Their lawless riots, they shall never merit
The noble name of soldiers.-

To obey their leaders, and shun mutinies;
To dare boldly

In a fair cause, and for the country's safety
To run upon the cannon's mouth undaunted;
To bear with patience the winter's cold
And summer's scorching heat;
Are the essentials to make up a soldier,
Not swearing, dice, or drinking."

Allw. There's no syllable
You speak, but is to me an oracle,
Which but to doubt were impious.

Lady A. To conclude:-
Beware ill company; for often men

Are like to those with whom they do converse: And from one man I warn you, and that's Wellborn:

Not 'cause he 's poor-that rather claims your pity;
But that he's in his manners so deprav'd,
And hath in vicious courses lost himself.
'Tis true your father lov'd him, while he was
Worthy the loving; but if he had liv'd

To have seen him as he is, he had cast him off,
Which you must do.

Allw. I shall obey in all things.

Lady A. Follow me to my chamber; you shall have gold

To furnish you like my son, and still supplied
As I hear from you.

Allw. I am still bound to you.

[Exeunt.

Just. Gr. Good..

Fur. A pheasant larded.

Just. Gr. That I might now give thanks for❜t! Fur. Besides, there came last night, from the forest of Sherwood,

The fattest stag I ever cook'd.

Just. Gr. A stag, man?

Fur. A stag, Sir; part of it is prepar'd for dinner, And bak'd in puff-paste.

Just. Gr. Puff-paste too, Sir Giles!

A poud'rons chine of beef! a pheasant larded! And red deer too, Sir Giles, and bak'd in puff

paste!

All business set aside, let us give thanks here. Sir G. You know we cannot.

Mar. Your worships are to sit on commission, And if you fail to come you lose the cause.

Just. Gr. Cause me no causes: I'll prove't, for such a dinner,

We may put off a commission; you shall find it Henrici decimo quarto.

Sir G. Fie, Mr. Greedy,

Will you lose me a thousand pounds for a dinner? No more, for shame! We must forget the belly, When we think of profit.

Just. Gr. Well, you shall overrule me.
I could even now cry. Do you hear, master Cook?
Send but a corner of that immortal pasty,
And I in thankfulness will, by your boy,
Send you a brace of threepences.

Fur. Will you be so prodigal?
Sir Gr. Remember me to your lady.
Enter WELLBORN.

Who have we here?
Well. You know me.

[Erit.

Well. Better and better. He contemns me too. Fur. Will you know your way. Amble. Or shall we teach it you, By the head and shoulders?

Well. No, I will not stir:

Do you mark, I will not. Let me see the wretch
That dares attempt to force me. Why, you slaves,
Created only to make legs and cringe,
To carry in a dish and shift a trencher,
That have not souls only to hope a blessing
Beyond your master's leavings-who advances?
who
Shows me the way?

All the Servants. Help, help!
Order. Here comes my lady.

[Beats the

LADY ALLWORTH enters.

Lady A. What noise is this?
Well. Madam, my designs bear me to you.
Lady A. To me?

Well. And though I have met with

But ragged entertainment from your grooms here. I hope from you to receive that noble usage,

As may become the true friend of your husband; | To throw away a little respect upon me. And then I shall forget these.

Lady A. I am amaz'd

To see and hear this rudeness. Dar'st thou think,
Though sworn, that it can ever find belief,
That I, who to the first men of this country
Denied my presence since my husband's death,
Can fall so low as to change words with thee?
Well. Scorn me not, good lady;

But, as in form you are angelical,

Imitate the heavenly natures, and vouchsafe
At least awhile to hear me. You will grant
The blood that runs in this arm is as noble
As that which fills your veins. Your swelling titles,
Equipage, and fortune, your men's observance,
And women's flattery, are in you no virtues;
Nor these rags, with my poverty, in me vices.
You have a fair name, and I know deserve it;
Yet, lady, I must say in nothing more
Than in the pious sorrow you have shown
For your late noble husband.

Order. There he touch'd her.

[Aside.

Well. That husband, Madam, was once in his fortune

Almost as low as I. Want, debts, and crosses,
Lay heavy on him: let it not be thought
A boast in me, though I say I reliev'd him.
'Twas I did give him fashion; mine the sword
That did on all occasions second his;

I brought him on and off with honour, lady:
And when in all men's judgments he was sunk,
And in his own hopes not to be buoy'd up,
I stepp'd unto him, took him by the hand,
And brought him to the shore.

Fur. Are we not base rogues

That could forget this?

Well. I confess you made him

[Aside.

Master of your estate; nor could your friends, Though he brought no wealth with him, blame you for❜t:

For he had a shape, and to that shape a mind
Made up of all parts, either great or noble;
So winning a behaviour, not to be
Resisted, Madam.

Lady A. 'Tis most true, he had.

Well. For his sake then, in that I was his friend, Do not contemn me.

Lady A. For what's past, excuse me ;

I will redeem it. [Offers him her pocket-book.
Well. Madam, on no terms;

I will not beg nor borrow sixpence of you;
But be supplied elsewhere, or want thus ever.
Only one suit I make: pray give me leave.
[LADY ALLWORTH signs to the Servants to

Quit all my owings, set me trimly forth,

Lady A. What you demand is yours. Respect this gentleman as 'twere myself.

[To the Servants.

Adieu, dear master Wellborn;
Pray let me see you with your oft'nest means.
Well. Your honour's servant.

[Kisses her hand; exit LADY ALLWORTH.
Now, what can be wrought out of such a suit
Is yet in supposition. [Servants bow to WELL.]
Nay, all's forgotten;

And, for a lucky omen to my project,
Shake hands, and end all quarrels in the cellar.
Order. Agreed, agreed.

Fur. Still merry, Mr. Wellborn.

[Exeunt Servants. Well. Faith, a right worthy and a liberal lady, Who can at once so kindly meet my purposes, And brave the flouts of censure, to redeem Her husband's friend! When by this honest plot The world believes she means to heal my wants With her extensive wealth, each noisy creditor Will be struck mute, and I be left at large To practise on my uncle Overreach. Here I may work the measure, to redeem My mortgag'd fortune, which he stripp'd me of When youth and dissipation quell'd my reason. The fancy pleases,-if the plot succeed, 'Tis a new way to pay old debts, indeed.

ACT II.

[Exit.

SCENE I-A Landscape near LADY ALLWORTH'S Park.

Enter SIR GILES OVERREACH and MARRALL. Sir G. He's gone, I warrant thee; this commission crush'd him.

Mar. Your worship has the way on't, and ne'er miss

To squeeze these unthrifts into air; and yet
The chop-fall'n justice did his part, returning
For your advantage the certificate,

Against his conscience and his knowledge too,
(With your good favour,) to the utter ruin
Of the poor farmer.

Sir G. 'Twas for these good ends

I made him a justice. He that bribes his belly Is certain to command his soul.

Mar. I wonder

Why, your worship having

The power to put this thin gut in commission,
You are not in't yourself.

Sir G. Thou art a fool;

In being out of office, I am out of danger;
Where, if I were a justice, besides the trouble,

I might, or out of wilfulness or error,
Run myself finely into a premunire;
And so become a prey to the informer.
No, I'll have none of't: 'tis enough I keep
Greedy at my devotion: so he serve

My purposes, let him hang, or damn, I care not;
Friendship is but a word.

Mar. You are all wisdom.

Sir G. I would be worldly wise; for the other wisdom,

And furnish'd well with gold; which I should use, That does prescribe us a well-govern'd life,

I trust, to your no shame, lady, but live

Ever a grateful debtor to your gentleness.
Lady A. What, nothing else?

Well. Nothing, unless you please to charge

your servants

And to do right to others as ourselves,

I value not an atom.

Mar. What course take you

(With your good pleasure) to hedge in the mano Of your good neighbour, Mr. Frugal ? As 'tis said

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The British Drama: A Collection of the Most Esteemed Tragedies ..., Band 2