Act the Fifth
Scene I A Street Near Sir Harry’s House
Enter Old Master Chartley and three or four Serving-men.
Old Chartley.
Good Heaven! this London is a stranger grown,
And out of my acquaintance; this seven years
I have not seen Paul’s steeple, or Cheap Cross.56
1st Serving-man.
Sir—
Old Chartley.
Hast thou not made inquiry for my son?
1st Serving-man.
Yes, sir, I have asked about everywhere for him, but cannot hear of him.
Old Chartley.
Disperse yourselves; inquire about the taverns, ordinaries, bowl-alleys, tennis-courts, gaming-houses; for there, I fear, he will be found.
1st Serving-man.
But where shall we hear of your worship again?
Old Chartley.
At Grace Church by the Conduit, near Sir Harry.
But stay, leave off a while your bootless search.
Had e’er man such a wild brain to his sorrow,
Of such small hope, who, when he should have married
A fair, a modest, and a virtuous maid,
Rich and revenued well, and even the night
Before the marriage day took horse, rode thence,
Whither Heaven knows? Since the distracted virgin
Hath left her father’s house, but neither found,
Yet in their search we have measured out much ground.
Enter Sir Harry and Sencer.
Sencer.
Your worship will be there?
Sir Harry.
Yes, not to fail,
At half an hour past six, or before seven.
Sencer.
You shall not find us at six and at seven, I’ll warrant you: good health to your worship.
Sir Harry.
Farewell, good fellow;
At the Wise-woman’s house (I know it well:
Perhaps she knows some danger touching me).
I’ll keep mine hour.
[Exit Sencer.
Old Chartley.
Sir Harry,
A hand, a hand; to baulk you it were sin.
I shall be bold to make your house mine inn.
Sir Harry.
Brother Chartley, I am glad to see you.
Old Chartley.
Methinks, Sir Harry, you look strangely on me.
And do not bid me welcome with an heart.
Sir Harry.
And blame me not to look amazedly
To see you here.
Old Chartley.
Why me?
Sir Harry.
Come, come, you’re welcome.
And now I’ll turn my strangeness to true joy.
I am glad to see you well, and safe recovered
Of your late grievous sickness.
Old Chartley.
The strange amazèd looks that you cast off
You put on me; and blame me not to wonder
That you should talk of sickness to sound men.
I thank my stars I did not taste the grief
Of inward pain or outward malady
This seven years day.
Sir Harry.
But by your favour, brother,
Then let me have my wonder back again.
Old Chartley.
Before I quite part with it, let me know
Why you the name of brother put upon me
In every clause—a name as strange to me
As my recovered sickness.
Sir Harry.
You are pleasant,
And it becomes you well: welcome again,
The rather you are come just to the wedding.
Old Chartley.
What wedding, sir?
Sir Harry.
That you should ask that question!
Why, of my daughter Grace.
Old Chartley.
Is Grace bestowed? Of whom, I pray?
Sir Harry.
Of whom but of your son.
I wonder, brother Chartley, and my friend,
You should thus play on me.
Old Chartley.
But by your favour,
Were you ten knights, Sir Harry—take me with you57—
My son match with your daughter! my consent
Not worthy to be craved!
Sir Harry.
Nay, then I see
You’ll stir my patience; know this forward match
Took its first birth from you.
Old Chartley.
From me?
Sir Harry.
From you.
Peruse this letter: know you your own hand?
’Twas well that I reserved your hand a witness
Against your tongue. You had best deny the jointure
Of the three hundred pounds made to my daughter;
’Tis that I know you aim at; but your seal— [Shows him letter.
Old Chartley.
Shall not make me approve it: I deny
This seal for mine, nor do I vouch that hand.
Your daughter and the dower, letter and all,
I quite disclaim. Sir Harry, you much wrong me.
Sir Harry.
I can bear more than this; heap wrong on wrong,
And I’ll support it all; I for this time
Will cast my spleen behind me. And yet hear me:
This letter your son Chartley, as from you,
Delivered me. I like the motion well.
Old Chartley.
My spleen is further thrown aside than yours,
And I am full as patient, and yet hear me;
My son’s contracted to another maid.
Nay, I am patient still—yet that I writ
This letter, sealed this impress, I deny.
Sir Harry.
Why, then, the jack58 your hand did counterfeit?
Old Chartley.
Why, then, he did so. Where’s that unthrift, speak?
Sir Harry.
Some hour ago, he mounted and rid post
To give you visit, whom he said lay sick
Upon your death-bed.
Old Chartley.
You amaze me, sir.
It is an ill presage; hereon I see
Your former salutation took its ground,
To see me safe recovered of my sickness.
Sir Harry.
Indeed it did. Your welcome is a subject
I cannot use too oft; welcome again.
I am sorry you this night must sup alone,
For I am elsewhere called about some business,
Concerning what I know not. Hours run on—
I must to Hogsdon; high time I were gone. [Exit.
Old Chartley.
Perhaps to the Wise-woman’s; she may tell me
The fortunes of my son. This accident
Hath bred in me suspicion and strange fears.
I will not sup alone, but I protest,
’Mongst some this night I’ll play the intruding guest.
[Exit with Serving-men.