NEV. Yes, sir; 'tis for the great marriage 'twixt----
SCUD. Pray, hold there; I know it too-too well.
The tokens and the letters I have still.
The dangers I have pass'd for her dear sake By day and night, to satisfy her wishes!
That letter I so lately did receive, And yet this morn she's married to a lord!
O memory, thou blessing to all men, Thou art my curse and cause of misery, That tell'st me what I have been in her eyes, And what I am! As it is impossible To find one good in the whole world of women-- But how I lose myself and the remembrance Of my dear friend who said he would meet me here.
What is this priest, that walks before the church?
Why walk you here so early, sir?
NEV. I am appointed Here to attend the coming of the brides, Old Sir John Worldly's daughters.
SCUD. Are there two?
NEV. Yes, sir: the eldest marries Count Frederick.
SCUD. O!
NEV. The middlemost wears willow for his sake; The youngest marries the rich merchant Strange.
SCUD. He is right worthy, and my well-known friend.
But, parson, if you marry Bellafront, The horror of thy conscience shall exceed A murderer's. Thou shalt not walk alone, Nor eat nor sleep, but a sad lover's groans And curses shall appear and fright thy soul.
I tell thee, priest, they're sights more terrible Than ghosts or sprites, of which old wives tell tales.
Thou shalt run mad! thou shalt be damn'd indeed!
NEV. Now God forfend! the reason, sir, I pray?
SCUD. She is contracted, sir--nay, married Unto another man, though it want form: And such strange passages and mutual vows, 'Twould make your short hair start through your black cap Should you but hear it!
NEV. Sir, I'll take no notice Of things I do not know: the injur'd gentleman May bring 'em after into the spiritual court, And have a fair pull on't--a poor gentleman (For so I take him by his being deceiv'd) 'Gainst a great count and an old wealthy knight.
SCUD. Thou Pancridge parson![26] O, for my friend Nevill!
Some wile or other might remove this priest, And give us[27] breathing to cross their intent. [_Aside._
NEV. Alas! my dear friend. [_Aside._
SCUD. Sir, do but you refuse to join them.
NEV. Upon what acquaintance, sir?
They are great persons, and I mean to rise: I hope in time to have three livings, man; And this were not the way, I take it, sir.
SCUD. Why, look thee; there is gold.
NEV. O, by no means.
SCUD. I seldom knew't refus'd yet by thy coat, But where it would have been a cause of good.
NEV. But look ye; you shall see, I'm a divine Of conscience quite opposite to a lawyer: I'll give you counsel, sir, without a fee.
This way they are to come; if you dare do't, Challenge her as your own at the church-door: I will not hinder you. [_Music plays._
SCUD. O, hark! they come.
Nevill, my friend! well, I must something do.
O, why should music, which joys every part, Strike such sharp killing discords to my heart!
_Music. Enter_ SIR JOHN WORLDLY, _who meets the parson, and entertains him_; COUNT FREDERICK, BELLAFRONT, STRANGE, KATHERINE, LUCIDA _with willow_; PENDANT, SIR INNOCENT NINNY, LADY NINNY, MRS WAGTAIL, SIR ABRAHAM _melancholy_. W.P.[28] _walk gravely afore all softly on_.
SCUDMORE _stands before, and a boy sings to the tuned music_.
_The Song._
_They that for worldly wealth do wed, That buy and sell the marriage-bed, That come not warm'd with the true fire, Resolv'd to keep this vow entire, Too soon find discontent: Too soon shall they repent.
But, Hymen, these are no such lovers, Which thy burning torch discovers.
Though they live, then, many a year, Let each day as new appear As this first; and delights Make of all bridal nights.
Io, Hymen! give consent Bless'd are the marriages that ne'er repent._
C. FRED. How now! who's this?
PEN. Young Scudmore.
OMNES. 'Tis young Scudmore!
SCUD. Canst thou this holy church enter a bride, And not a corse, meeting these eyes of mine?
BEL. Yes, by my troth: what are your eyes to me, But grey ones, as they are to everybody.
[_To the rest._] The gentleman I do a little know: He's frantic, sure! Forward, a' God's name, there!
LUC. Sister, this is not well, and will be worse.
SCUD. O, hold thy thunder fast!
C. FRED. What is the matter?
PEN. I'll ask, my lord. What is the matter, sir?
SIR J. WOR. Some idle words, my lord, 't may be, have pass'd 'Twixt Scudmore and my daughter heretofore; But he has dreamt 'em things of consequence.
PEN. Pish! nothing else? set forward.
NEV. By your leave.
SCUD. Can there be such a soul in such a shape?
My love is subject of such misery, Such strange impossibilities and misfortune, That men will laugh at me, when I relate The story of it, and conceive I lie.
Why, madam that shall be--lady in _posse_--do titles, Honours, and fortunes make you so forgetful?
BEL. You are insolent--nay, strangely saucy, sir, To wrong me in this public fashion.
SIR. J. WOR. Sirrah, go to: there's law.
SCUD. There is, indeed, And conscience too: old Worldly, thou hast one; But for the other, wild Virginia, Black Afric, or the shaggy Scythia, Must send it over as a merchandise, Ere thou show any here.