MARRALL: Was it not a rare trick,
An't please your worship, to make the deed nothing?
An't please your worship, to make the deed nothing?
World's Greatest Books - Volume 17 - Poetry and Drama
I will not;
That I should be gulled, baffled, fooled, defeated
By children, all my hopes and labours crossed.
WELLBORN: You are so, my grave uncle, it appears.
OVERREACH: Village nurses revenge their wrongs with curses,
I'll waste no words, but thus I take the life
Which, wretch, I gave to thee.
[_Offers to kill_ MARGARET.
LOVELL: Hold, for your own sake!
OVERREACH: Lord! thus I spit at thee,
And at thy counsel; and again desire thee
As thou'rt a soldier, let us quit the house
And change six words in private.
LOVELL: I am ready.
LADY ALLWORTH: Stay, sir; would you contest with
one distraited?
OVERREACH: Are you pale?
Borrow his help; though Hercules call it odds,
I'll stand against both, as I am, hemmed in thus.
Alone, I can do nothing, but I have servants
And friends to succour me; and if I make not
This house a heap of ashes, or leave one throat uncut,
Hell add to my afflictions! [_Exit. _
MARRALL: Is't not brave sport?
ALLWORTH (_to_ MARGARET): Nay, weep not, dearest,
though't express your pity.
MARRALL: Was it not a rare trick,
An't please your worship, to make the deed nothing?
I can do twenty neater, if you please
To purchase and grow rich. They are mysteries
Not to be spoke in public; certain minerals
Incorporated in the ink and wax.
WELLBORN: You are a rascal. He that dares be false
To a master, though unjust, will ne'er be true
To any other. Look not for reward
Or favour from me. Instantly begone.
MARRALL: At this haven false servants still arrive.
[_Exit. Re-enter_ OVERREACH.
WILLDO: Some little time I have spent, under your favours,
In physical studies, and, if my judgment err not,
He's mad beyond recovery.
OVERREACH: Were they a squadron of pikes, when I am mounted
Upon my injuries, shall I fear to charge them?
[_Flourishing his sword sheathed_.
I'll fall to execution--ha! I am feeble:
Some undone widow sits upon mine arm,
And takes away the use of 't! And my sword,
Glued to my scabbard with wronged orphans' tears,
Will not be drawn.
That I should be gulled, baffled, fooled, defeated
By children, all my hopes and labours crossed.
WELLBORN: You are so, my grave uncle, it appears.
OVERREACH: Village nurses revenge their wrongs with curses,
I'll waste no words, but thus I take the life
Which, wretch, I gave to thee.
[_Offers to kill_ MARGARET.
LOVELL: Hold, for your own sake!
OVERREACH: Lord! thus I spit at thee,
And at thy counsel; and again desire thee
As thou'rt a soldier, let us quit the house
And change six words in private.
LOVELL: I am ready.
LADY ALLWORTH: Stay, sir; would you contest with
one distraited?
OVERREACH: Are you pale?
Borrow his help; though Hercules call it odds,
I'll stand against both, as I am, hemmed in thus.
Alone, I can do nothing, but I have servants
And friends to succour me; and if I make not
This house a heap of ashes, or leave one throat uncut,
Hell add to my afflictions! [_Exit. _
MARRALL: Is't not brave sport?
ALLWORTH (_to_ MARGARET): Nay, weep not, dearest,
though't express your pity.
MARRALL: Was it not a rare trick,
An't please your worship, to make the deed nothing?
I can do twenty neater, if you please
To purchase and grow rich. They are mysteries
Not to be spoke in public; certain minerals
Incorporated in the ink and wax.
WELLBORN: You are a rascal. He that dares be false
To a master, though unjust, will ne'er be true
To any other. Look not for reward
Or favour from me. Instantly begone.
MARRALL: At this haven false servants still arrive.
[_Exit. Re-enter_ OVERREACH.
WILLDO: Some little time I have spent, under your favours,
In physical studies, and, if my judgment err not,
He's mad beyond recovery.
OVERREACH: Were they a squadron of pikes, when I am mounted
Upon my injuries, shall I fear to charge them?
[_Flourishing his sword sheathed_.
I'll fall to execution--ha! I am feeble:
Some undone widow sits upon mine arm,
And takes away the use of 't! And my sword,
Glued to my scabbard with wronged orphans' tears,
Will not be drawn.
