Undone! what sudden accident hath chanced? Speak! what's the matter?
NURSE.
Alas! that ever I was born! My mistress and Master Churms are run away together.
GRIPE.
'Tis not possible; ne'er tell me: I dare trust Master Churms with a greater matter than that.
NURSE.
Faith, you must trust him, whether you will or no; for he's gone.
_Enter_ WILL CRICKET.
WILL CRICKET.
Master Gripe, I was coming to desire that I might have your absence at my wedding; for I hear say you are very liberal grown o' late. For I spake with three or four of your debtors this morning, that ought you hundred pounds a piece; and they told me that you sent Master Churms to them, and took of some ten pounds, and of some twenty, and delivered them their bonds, and bad them pay the rest when they were able.
GRIPE.
I am undone, I am robbed! My daughter! my money! Which way are they gone?
WILL CRICKET.
Faith, sir, it's all to nothing, but your daughter and Master Churms are gone both one way. Marry, your money flies, some one way, and some another; and therefore 'tis but a folly to make hue and cry after it.
GRIPE.
Follow them, make hue and cry after them. My daughter! my money! all's gone! what shall I do?
WILL CRICKET.
Faith, if you will be ruled by me, I'll tell you what you shall do. Mark what I say; for I'll teach you the way to come to heaven, if you stumble not--give all you have to the poor but one single penny, and with that penny buy you a good strong halter; and when you ha' done so, come to me, and I'll tell you what you shall do with it. [_Aside_.
GRIPE.
Bring me my daughter: that Churms, that villain! I'll tear him with my teeth.
NURSE.
Master, nay, pray you, do not run mad: I'll tell you good news; my young Master Fortunatus is come home: and see where he comes.
_Enter_ FORTUNATUS.
GRIPE.
If thou hadst said Lelia, it had been something.
FORTUNATUS.
Thus Fortunatus greets his father, And craves his blessing on his bended knee.
GRIPE.
Ay, here's my son; but Lelia she'll not come.
Good Fortunatus, rise: wilt thou shed tears, And help thy father moan?
If so, say ay; if not, good son, begone.
FORTUNATUS.
What moves my father to these uncouth fits?
WILL CRICKET.
Faith, sir, he's almost mad; I think he cannot tell you: and therefore I--presuming, sir, that my wit is something better than his at this time--do you mark, sir?--out of the profound circumambulation of my supernatural wit, sir--do you understand?--will tell you the whole superfluity of the matter, sir. Your sister Lelia, sir, you know, is a woman, as another woman is, sir.
FORTUNATUS.
Well, and what of that?
WILL CRICKET.
Nay, nothing, sir; but she fell in love with one Sophos, a very proper, wise young man, sir. Now, sir, your father would not let her have him, sir; but would have married her to one, sir, that would have fed her with nothing but barley bag-puddings and fat bacon. Now, sir, to tell you the truth, the fool, ye know, has fortune to land; but Mistress Lelia's mouth doth not hang for that kind of diet.
FORTUNATUS.
And how then?
WILL CRICKET.
Marry then, there was a certain cracking, cogging, pettifogging, butter-milk slave, sir, one Churms, sir, that is the very quintessence of all the knaves in the bunch: and if the best man of all his kin had been but so good as a yeoman's son, he should have been a marked knave by letters patents. And he, sir, comes me sneaking, and cosens them both of their wench, and is run away with her. And, sir, belike, he has cosened your father here of a great deal of his money too.
NURSE.
Sir, your father did trust him but too much; but I always thought he would prove a crafty knave.
GRIPE.
My trust's betray'd, my joy's exil'd: Grief kills the heart, my hope's beguil'd.
FORTUNATUS.
Where golden gain doth blear a father's eyes, That precious pearl, fetch'd from Parnassus' mount, Is counted refuse, worse than bull'on brass; Both joys and hopes hang of a silly twine, That still is subject unto flitting time, That turns joy into grief, and hope to sad despair, And ends his days in wretched worldly care.
Were I the richest monarch under heaven, And had one daughter thrice as fair As was the Grecian Menelaus' wife, Ere I would match her to an untaught swain, Though one whose wealth exceeded Croesus' store, Herself should choose, and I applaud her choice Of one more poor than ever Sophos was, Were his deserts but equal unto his.
If I might speak without offence, You were to blame to hinder Lelia's choice; As she in nature's graces doth excel, So doth Minerva grace him full as well.
NURSE.
Now, by cock and pie, you never spake a truer word in your life. He's a very kind gentleman, for, last time he was at our house, he gave me three-pence.
WILL CRICKET.
O, nobly spoken: God send Peg to prove as wise a woman as her mother, and then we shall be sure to have wise children. Nay, if he be so liberal, old grandsire, you shall give him the goodwill of your daughter.
GRIPE.
She is not mine, I have no daughter now: That I should say--I had, thence comes my grief.
My care of Lelia pass'd a father's love; My love of Lelia makes my loss the more; My loss of Lelia drowns my heart in woe; My heart's woe makes this life a living death: Care, love, loss, heart's woe, living death, Join all in one to stop this vital breath.
Curs'd be the time I gap'd for golden gain, I curse the time I cross'd her in her choice; Her choice was virtuous, but my will was base: I sought to grace her from the Indian mines, But she sought honour from the starry mount.
What frantic fit possess'd my foolish brain?
What furious fancy fired so my heart, To hate fair virtue, and to scorn desert?
FORTUNATUS.
Then, father, give desert his due; Let nature's graces and fair virtue's gifts One sympathy and happy consort make 'Twixt Sophos' and my sister Lelia's love: Conjoin their hands, whose hearts have long been one.
And so conclude a happy union.
GRIPE.
Now 'tis too late: What fates decree can never be recall'd; Her luckless love is fall'n to Churms his lot, And he usurps fair Lelia's nuptial bed.
FORTUNATUS.
That cannot be; fear of pursuit Must needs prolong his nuptial rights: But if you give your full consent, That Sophos may enjoy his long-wish'd love, And have fair Lelia to his lovely bride, I'll follow Churms whate'er betide; I'll be as swift as is the light-foot roe, And overtake him ere his journey's end, And bring fair Lelia back unto my friend.
GRIPE.