A Collection Of Old English Plays, Vol. IV. | Page 8

if the thing be knowne we are undone.
Wil. Forsake the house! I will not stay all night, Though you will give
the wealth of Christendome.
Mer. But yet conceale it, for the love of God; If otherwise, I know not
what to do.
Wil. Here is my hand, ile never utter it; Assure your selfe of that, and so
farewell.
Mer. But sweare to me, as God shall help thy soule, Thou wilt not tell it
unto any one.
Wil. I will not sweare, but take my honest worde, And so farewell. My
soule assureth me [Exit Merry and Rach. God will revenge this damn'd
iniquitie. What shall become of me unhappie wretch? I dare not lodge
within my Maisters house, For feare his murthrous hand should kill me
too. I will go walke and wander up and downe, And seeke some rest,
untill the day appeare. At the Three Cranes,[9] in some Haye loft ile
lye, And waile my maisters comming miserie.

[Exit.

[SCENE IV.]
Enter Fallerio solus.
Fall. I have possession of my brothers goods; His tennants pay me rent,
acknowledge me To be their Landlord; they frequent my house, With
Turkeys, Capons, Pigeons, Pigges and Geese, And all to game my
favour and goodwill. His plate, his iewels, hangings, household stuffe,
May well beseeme to fit a demie King; His stately buildings, his
delightfull walkes, His fertile meadowes, and rich ploughed lands, His
well-growne woods and stor'd fishing ponds, Brings endlesse wealth,
besides continuall helpe, To keepe a good and hospitable house: And
shall I ioy these pleasures but a time? Nay brother, sister, all shall
pardon me, Before ile sell my selfe to penurie. The world doth know
thy brother but resigned The lands and goods untill his sonne attain'de
To riper years to weld [_sic_] and governe them. Then openly thou
canst not do him wrong, He living: theres the burthen of the song. Call
it a burthen, for it seemes so great And heavie burthen, that the boy
should live And thrust me from this height of happinesse, That I will
not indure so heavie waight, But shake it off, and live at libertie, Free
from the yoake of such subjection. The boy shall dye, were he my
fathers sonne, Before ile part with my possession. Ile call my sonne,
and aske his good advice, How I may best dispatch this serious cause.--
Hoe, sir, Allenso!
Alle. Father.
Fall. Hearken, sonne. I must intreate your furtherance and advise About
a thing that doth concerne us neere. First tell me how thou doost affect
in heart Little Pertillo, thy dead Unckles sonne.
Allen. So well, good father, that I cannot tell, Whether I love him dearer
then my selfe; And yet if that my heart were calde to count, I thinke it
would surrender me to death, Ere young Pertillo should sustain a
wrong.

Fall. How got his safetie such a deepe regarde Within your heart, that
you affect it so?
Allen. Nature gave roote; love, and the dying charge, Of his dead father,
gives such store of sap Unto this tree of my affection That it will never
wither till I dye.
Fall. But nature, love, and reason, tells thee thus, Thy selfe must yet be
neerest to thyselfe.
Allen. His love dooth not estrange me from my selfe, But doth confirme
my strength with multitudes Of benefits his love will yeelde to me.
Fall. Beware to foster such pernicious snakes Within thy bosome,
which will poyson thee.
Allen. He is a Dove, a childe, an innocent, And cannot poyson, father,
though he would.
Fall. I will be plainer: know, Pertillos life, Which thou doost call a
dove, an innocent, A harmlesse childe, and, and I know not what, Will
harm thee more, than any Serpent can, I, then the very sight of
Basiliskes.
Allen. Father you tell me of a strange discourse. How can his life
produce such detriment, As Basiliskes, whose only sight is death?
Fall. Hearken to me, and I will tell thee how; Thou knowst his fathers
goods, his houses, lands, Have much advaunc'd our reputation, In
having but their usage for a time. If the boy live, then like to sencelesse
beasts, Like longd-eard Asses and riche-laden Mules, We must resign
these treasures to a boye, And we like Asses feede on simple haye:
Make him away, they shall continue ours By vertue of his fathers
Testament,-- The iewels, castles, medowes, houses, lands, Which thy
small cozen should defeate thee of, Be still thine owne, and thou
advance thy selfe, Above the height of all thine Auncestours.
Allen. But if I mount by murther and deceite, Iustice will thrust aspiring

thoughts belowe, And make me caper for to breake my neck, After
some wofull lamentation Of my obedience to unlawfulnesse.