Classic Poem

ACTUS PRIMI SCENA PRIMA

Enter D' AMUILLE , Borachio , attended, D'amuille .

I SAW my Nephew Charlemont but now
Part from his Father. Tell him I desire
To speake with him.
Borachio, thou art read
In Nature and her large Philosophie.
Obseru'st thou not the very selfe same course
Of reuolution, both in Man and Beast? Bor .

The same, for birth, growth, state, decay and death;
Onely a man's beholding to his Nature
For th' better composition o' the two D'am .

But where that fauour of his Nature is
Not full and free, you see a man becomes
A foole, as little-knowing as a beast. Bor .

That showes there's nothing in a Man aboue
His nature; if there were, consid'ring 'tis
His being's excellencie, 'twould not yeeld
To Nature's weakenesse. D'am .

Then, if Death casts up
Our totall summe of joy and happinesse,
Let me haue all my sences feasted in
Th' abundant fulnesse of delight at once,
And, with a sweet insensible increase
Of pleasing surfet, melt into my dust. Bor .

That reuolution is too short, me thinkes.
If this life comprehends our happinesse,
How foolish to desire to dye so soone!
And if our time runnes home unto the length
Of Nature, how improuident it were
To spend our substance on a minute's pleasure,
And after, liue an age in miserie! D'am .

So thou conclud'st that pleasure onely flowes
Upon the streame of riches? Bor .

Wealth is Lord
Of all felicitie. D'am .

'Tis, Oracle
For what's a man that's honest without wealth? Bor .

Both miserable and contemptible. D'am .

Hee's worse, Borachio. For if Charitie
Be an essentiall part of Honestie,
And should be practis'd first upon our selues,
Which must be graunted, then your honest man
That's poore, is most dishonest, for hee is
Uncharitable to the man whom hee
Should most respect. But what doth this touch me
That seeme to haue enough? — thankes industrie.
'Tis true, had not my Body spredde it selfe
Into posteritie, perhaps I should
Desire no more increase of substance, then
Would hold proportion with mine owne dimentions.
Yet euen in that sufficiencie of state,
A man has reason to prouide and adde.
For what is he hath such a present eye,
And so prepar'd a strength, that can fore-see,
And fortifie his substance and himselfe
Against those accidents, the least whereof
May robbe him of an age's husbandry?
And for my children, they are as neere to me
As branches to the tree whereon they grow;
And may as numerously be multiplied.
As they increase, so should my prouidence;
For from my substance they receiue the sap,
Whereby they liue and flowrish. Bor .

Sir, enough.
I understand the marke whereat you aime.

Enter C HARLEMONT . D'am .

Silence, w'are interrupted. Charlemont! Char .

Good morrow, Uncle. D'am .

Noble Charlemont,
Good morrow. Is not this the honour'd day
You purpos'd to set forward to the warre? Char .

My inclination did intend it so. D'am .

And not your resolution? Char .

Yes, my Lord;
Had not my Father contradicted it. D'am .

O noble warre! Thou first originall
Of all man's honour, how dejectedly
The baser Spirit of our present time
Hath cast it selfe below the ancient worth
Of our forefathers! From whose noble deedes
Ignobly we deriue our pedigrees. Charl .

Sir, taxe not me for his unwillingnesse.
By the command of his authoritie
My disposition's forc'd against it selfe. D'am .

Nephew, you are the honour of our bloud.
The troope of Gentry, whose inferiour worth
Should second your example, are become
Your Leaders; and the scorne of their discourse
Turnes smiling backe upon your backwardnesse. Charl .

You neede not urge my spirit by disgrace,
'Tis free enough; my Father hinders it.
To curbe me, hee denyes me maintenance
To put me in the habite of my ranque.
Unbinde me from that strong necessitie, —
And call me Coward, if I stay behind. D'am .
For want of meanes? Borachio, where's the gold?

I'de disinherite my posteritie
To purchase honour. 'Tis an interest
I prize aboue the principall of wealth.
I'm glad I had th' occasion to make knowne
How readily my substance shall unlocke
It selfe to serue you. Here's a thousand Crownes. Charl .

My worthy uncle, in exchange for this
I leaue my bond; so I am doubly bound;
By that, for the repayment of this gold,
And by this gold, to satisfie your loue. D'am .

Sir, 'tis a witnesse onely of my loue,
And loue doth alwayes satisfie it selfe.
Now to your Father, labour his consent,
My importunitie shall second yours.
Wee will obtaine it. Charl .

If intreatie faile,
The force of reputation shall preuaile. D'am .

Goe call my sonnes, that they may take their leaues
Of noble Charlemont. Now, my Borachio! Bor .

The substance of our former argument
Was wealth. D'am .

The question, how to compasse it. Bor .

Young Charlemont is going to the warre. D'am .

O, thou begin'st to take me! Bor .

Marke me then.
Me thinkes the pregnant wit of Man might make
The happy absence of this Charlemont
A subiect of commodious prouidence.
He has a wealthy Father, ready eu'n
To drop into his graue. And no man's power,
When Charlemont is gone, can interpose
'Twixt you and him. D'am .

Th'ast apprehended both
My meaning and my loue. Now let thy trust,
For undertaking and for secrecie
Hold measure with thy amplitude of wit;
And thy reward shall parallel thy worth. Bor .

My resolution has already bound
Mee to your seruice. D'am .

And my heart to thee.

Enter R OUSARD and S EBASTIAN .

Here are my Sonnes — — —
There's my eternitie. My life in them
And their succession shall for euer liue.
And in my reason dwels the prouidence
To adde to life as much of happinesse.
Let all men lose, so I increase my gaine,
I haue no feeling of another's paine.