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‹Better GutenbergThomas Heywood: PlaysScene II — A Room in the Gaol · 11 of 122Contents›

Thomas Heywood: Plays

by Thomas Heywood

11 of 122 · Contents · Download EPUB

Scene II A Room in the Gaol

Enter Malby and Cranwell.

Malby.

This is the sessions-day; pray can you tell me

How young Sir Charles hath sped? Is he acquit,

Or must he try the law’s strict penalty?

Cranwell.

He’s cleared of all, spite of his enemies,

Whose earnest labour was to take his life:

But in this suit of pardon he hath spent

All the revenues that his father left him;

And he is now turned a plain countryman,

Reformed in all things. See, sir, here he comes.

Enter Sir Charles and Keeper.

Keeper.

Discharge your fees, and you are then at freedom.

Sir Charles Mountford.

Here, Master Keeper, take the poor remainder

Of all the wealth I have: my heavy foes

Have made my purse light; but, alas! to me

’Tis wealth enough that you have set me free.

Malby.

God give you joy of your delivery!

I am glad to see you abroad, Sir Charles.

Sir Charles Mountford.

The poorest knight in England, Master Malby:

My life hath cost me all my patrimony

My father left his son: well, God forgive them

That are the authors of my penury.

Enter Shafton.

Shafton.

Sir Charles! a hand, a hand! at liberty?

Now, by the faith I owe, I am glad to see it.

What want you? wherein may I pleasure you?

Sir Charles Mountford.

O me! O most unhappy gentleman!

I am not worthy to have friends stirred up,

Whose hands may help me in this plunge of want.

I would I were in Heaven, to inherit there

The immortal birth-right which my Saviour keeps,

And by no unthrift can be bought and sold;

For here on earth what pleasures should we trust?

Shafton.

To rid you from these contemplations,

Three hundred pounds you shall receive of me;

Nay, five for fail. Come, sir; the sight of gold

Is the most sweet receipt for melancholy,

And will revive your spirits: you shall hold law

With your proud adversaries. Tush, let Frank Acton

Wage with his knighthood like expense with me,

And he will sink, he will. Nay, good Sir Charles,

Applaud your fortune, and your fair escape

From all these perils.

Sir Charles Mountford.

O sir, they have undone me.

Two thousand and five hundred pound a year

My father, at his death, possessed me of;

All which the envious Acton made me spend.

And, notwithstanding all this large expense,

I had much ado to gain my liberty:

And I have only now a house of pleasure,

With some five hundred pounds, reserved

Both to maintain me and my loving sister.

Shafton.

[Aside.] That must I have, it lies convenient for me:

If I can fasten but one finger on him,

With my full hand I’ll gripe him to the heart.

’Tis not for love I proffered him this coin,

But for my gain and pleasure. [Aloud.] Come, Sir Charles,

I know you have need of money; take my offer.

Sir Charles Mountford.

Sir, I accept it, and remain indebted

Even to the best of my unable power.

Come, gentlemen, and see it tendered down.

[Exeunt.

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