A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 09
General
A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 09
English drama
ILF. A pox of his furtherance! gentlemen, as you are Christians, vex me
no more. That I am married, I confess; a plague of the fates, that
wedding and hanging comes by destiny; but for the riches she has
brought, bear witness how I'll reward her. [_Kicks her_.
SIS. Sir!
ILF. Whore, ay, and jade. Witch! Ill-faced, stinking-breath,
crooked-nose, worse than the devil--and a plague on thee that ever
I saw thee!
BAR. A comedy, a comedy!
WEN. What's the meaning of all this? is this the masque after thy
marriage!
ILF. O gentlemen, I am undone, I am undone, for I am married! I,
that could not abide a woman, but to make her a whore, hated all
she-creatures, fair and poor; swore I would never marry but to one
that was rich, and to be thus coney-catched! Who do you think this
is, gentlemen?
WEN. Why, your wife; who should it be else?
ILF. That's my misfortune; that marrying her in hope she was rich,
she proves to be the beggarly sister to the more beggarly Scarborow.
BAR. How?
WEN. Ha, ha, ha!
ILF. Ay, you may laugh, but she shall cry as well as I for't.
BAR. Nay, do not weep.
WEN. He does but counterfeit now to delude us. He has all her portion
of land, coin, plate, jewels, and now dissembles thus, lest we should
borrow some money of him.
ILF. And you be kind, gentlemen, lend me some; for, having paid the
priest, I have not so much left in the world as will hire me a horse to
carry me away from her.
BAR. But art thou thus gulled, i'faith?
ILF. Are you sure you have eyes in your head?
WEN. Why, then, [it is] by her brother's setting on, in my conscience;
who knowing thee now to have somewhat to take to by the death of thy
father, and that he hath spent her portion and his own possessions,
hath laid this plot for thee to marry her, and so he to be rid of her
himself.
ILF. Nay, that's without question; but I'll be revenged of 'em both.
For you, minx:--nay, 'sfoot, give 'em me, or I'll kick else.
SIS. Good, sweet.
ILF. Sweet with a pox! you stink in my nose, give me your jewels: nay,
bracelets too.
SIS. O me most miserable!
ILF. Out of my sight, ay, and out of my doors: for now what's within
this house is mine; and for your brother,
He made this match in hope to do you good,
And I wear this, the[417] which shall draw his blood.
WEN. A brave resolution.
BAR. In which we'll second thee.
[_Exit with_ WENTLOE.
ILF. Away, whore! out of my doors, whore!
[_Exit_.
SIS. O grief, that poverty should have that power to tear
Men from themselves, though they wed, bed, and swear.
_Enter_ THOMAS _and_ JOHN SCARBOROW _with_ BUTLER.
THOM. How now, sister?
SIS. Undone, undone!
BUT. Why, mistress, how is't? how is't?
SIS. My husband has forsook me.
BUT. O perjury!
SIS. Has ta'en my jewels and my bracelets from me.
THOM. Vengeance, I played the thief for the money that bought 'em.
SIS. Left me distressed, and thrust me forth o' doors.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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