FEE. Look, look! the parson joins the doctor's hand and hers: now the doctor kisses her, by this light! [_Omnes whoop._] Now goes his gown off. Heyday! he has red breeches on. Zounds! the physician is got o' th'
top of her: belike, it is the mother she has. Hark! the bed creaks.[140]
PROUDLY. 'Sheart, the door's fast! break 'em open! We are betrayed.
BRO. No breaking open doors: he that stirs first, [_Draws and holds out a pistol._ I'll pop a leaden pill into his guts, Shall purge him quite away. No haste, good friends: When they have done what's fit, you shall not need To break the door; they'll open it themselves.
[_A curtain drawn, a bed discovered:_ INGEN _with his sword in his hand and a pistol: the lady in her petticoat: the_ PARSON.
PROUDLY. Thy blood, base villain, shall answer this.
[_The brothers set back to back._ I'll dye thy nuptial bed in thy heart's gore.
INGEN. Come, come, my lord; 'tis not so easily done.
You know it is not. Forgive[141] this my attempt Upon your sister; before God and man She was my wife, and ne'er a bedrid gout Shall have my wench to get diseases on.
PROUDLY. Well may'st thou term her so, that has consented Even with her will to be dishonoured.
INGEN. Not so, yet have I lain with her--
MAID. But first, Witness this priest, we both were married.
PRIEST. True it is, Domine; Their contract's run into a marriage, And that, my lord, into a carriage.
PROUDLY. I will undo thee, priest.
PRIEST. It is too late. I am undone Already [by] wine and tobacco. I defy thee, Thou temporal lord: perdy, thou never shalt Keep me in jail, and hence springs my reason: My act is neither felony nor treason.
FEE. Ay, sir; but you do not know what kindred she may have.
OMNES. Come, come, there is no remedy.
WIFE. And weigh't right, In my opinion, my honour'd lord, And everybody's else, this is a match, Fitter ten thousand times than your intent.
OMNES. Most certain 'tis.
WID. Besides, this gentleman Your brother-in-law['s] well-parted and fair-mean'd; And all this come about (you must conceive) By your own sister's wit, as well as his.
INGEN. Come, come, 'tis but getting of me knighted, my lord, and I shall become your brother well enough.
PROUDLY. Brother, your hand. Lords may have projects still, But there's a greater Lord will have his will.
BOLD. This is despatch, Now, madam, is the time, For I long to be at it. Your hand, sweetheart.
FEE. Now, boys.
WID. My lord and gentlemen, I crave your witness, To what I now shall utter. 'Twixt this gentleman and myself There have been some love-passages, from which Here I do free him, and [he] take this lady----[142]
WELL. La ye! and pray him take this lady.
WID. Which with a mother's love I give to him, And wish all joy may crown their marriage.
BOLD. Nay, madam, yet she is not satisfied.
[BOLD _gives her a ring, and she puts it on her thumb_.
WID. Further, before ye all I take this ring, As an assumpsit, by the virtue of which I bind myself in all my lands and goods, That in his choice I'll be no hindrance; Or by forbidding banns, or claiming him Myself for mine, but let the match go on Without my check, which he intendeth now: And once again I say, I bind myself.
BOLD. Then, once again I say, widow, thou'rt mine!
Priest, marry us: this match I did intend: Ye all are witnesses; if thou hinder it, Widow, your lands and goods are forfeit mine.
WID. Ha! nay, take me too, since there's no remedy.
Your widow (without goods) sells scurvily.
OMNES. Whoop! God give you joy.
COUNT. 'Slight! I am cosened of all sides; I had good hope of the widow myself; but now I see everybody leaves me, saving um, um, um!
BOLD. Troth, my lord, and that will stick by you, I warrant.
WID. But how, sir, shall we salve this gentlewoman?
BOLD. Hang her, whore.
WELL. Fie! you are too uncivil.
FEE. Whore in thy face, I do defy thy taunts.
BOLD. Nay, hold, fair lady: now I think upon't, The old Count has no wife; let's make a match.
OMNES. If he be so contented.
COUNT. With all my heart.
BOLD. Then kiss your spouse.
COUNT. 'Sfoot! she has a beard. How now! my son?
OMNES. 'Tis the Lord Feesimple! [FEESIMPLE _unmasks_.
FEE. Father, lend me your sword. You and I are made a couple of fine fools, are we not? If I were not valiant now, and meant to beat 'em all, here would lie a simple disgrace upon us, a Feesimple one, indeed. Mark now, what I'll say to 'em. D'ye hear me, my masters? Damn me, ye are all the son of a whore, and ye lie, and I will make it good with my sword.
This is called roaring, father.
SUB. I'll not meddle with you, sir.
PROUDLY. You are my blood.
WELL. And I flesh'd you, you know.
BOLD. And I have a charge coming, I must not fight now.
FEE. Has either of you anything to say to me?