Scene III A Street in Foy
Enter the Mayor of Foy, an Alderman, and Servant.
Mayor.
Believe me, sir, she bears herself so well,
No man can justly blame her; and I wonder,
Being a single woman as she is,
And living in a house of such resort,
She is no more distasted.
Alderman.
The best gentlemen
The country yields become her daily guests.
Sure, sir, I think she’s rich.
Mayor.
Thus much I know: would I could buy her state,
Were’t for a brace of thousands!
[A shot within.
Alderman.
’Twas said a ship is now put into harbour:
Know whence she is.
Servant.
I’ll bring news from the quay. [Exit.
Mayor.
To tell you true, sir, I could wish a match
Betwixt her and mine own and only son;
And stretch my purse, too, upon that condition.
Alderman.
Please you, I’ll motion32 it.
Re-enter Servant.
Servant.
One of the ships is new come from the Islands;
The greatest man of note’s one Captain Goodlack.
It is but a small vessel.
Enter Captain Goodlack and Sailors.
Goodlack.
I’ll meet you straight at the Windmill.
Not one word of my name.
1st Sailor.
We understand you.
Mayor.
Sir, ’tis told us you came late from the Islands.
Goodlack.
I did so.
Mayor.
Pray, sir, the news from thence?
Goodlack.
The best is, that the general is in health,
And Fayal won from the Spaniards; but the fleet,
By reason of so many dangerous tempests,
Extremely weather-beaten. You, sir, I take it,
Are mayor o’ the town.
Mayor.
I am the king’s33 lieutenant.
Goodlack.
I have some letters of import from one,
A gentleman of very good account,
That died late in the Islands, to a maid
That keeps a tavern here.
Mayor.
Her name Bess Bridges?
Goodlack.
The same. I was desired to make inquiry
What fame she bears, and what report she’s of.
Now, you, sir, being here chief magistrate,
Can best resolve me.
Mayor.
To our understanding
She’s without stain or blemish, well reputed;
And, by her modesty and fair demeanour,
Hath won the love of all.
Goodlack.
The worse for me. [Aside.
Alderman.
I can assure you, many narrow eyes
Have looked on her and her condition;
But those that with most envy have endeavoured
To entrap her, have returned, won by her virtues.
Goodlack.
So all that I inquire of make report.
I am glad to hear’t. Sir, I have now some business,
And I of force must leave you.
Mayor.
I entreat you
To sup with me to-night.
Goodlack.
Sir, I may trouble you.— [Exeunt Mayor and Alderman.
Five hundred pound a year out of my way.
Is there no flaw that I can tax her with,
To forfeit this revenue? Is she such a saint,
None can missay her? Why, then, I myself
Will undertake it. If in her demeanour
I can but find one blemish, stain, or spot,
It is five hundred pound a year well got.
[Exeunt.