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    A Trick to Catch the Old One
    A Trick to Catch the Old One
    A Trick to Catch the Old One
    Ebook98 pages1 hour

    A Trick to Catch the Old One

    By Thomas Middleton

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    About this ebook

    Thomas Middleton (1580-1627), a bricklayer's son, rose to become one of the most eminent playwrights of the Jacobean period. Along with Ben Johnson he helped shape the dynamic course of drama in Renaissance England. His range is broad, as his work successfully covers comedy, tragedy, and history. Praised during his life as well as today, Middleton remains relevant and influential. "A Trick to Catch the Old One" (1608) is a delightful comedy following a young Thomas Witgood who has managed to squander his fortune and is now in debt to his uncle Pecunius Lucre. In order to manage and pay off his debts, an elaborate scheme to court a wealthy mistresses is devised. What ensues is a comedy of intrigue filled with wit and bawdy. In this play greed and seduction intertwine to create a smart comedy with latent social commentary.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDigireads.com Publishing
    Release dateFeb 1, 2012
    ISBN9781420918007
    A Trick to Catch the Old One

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      Book preview

      A Trick to Catch the Old One - Thomas Middleton

      A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE

      BY THOMAS MIDDLETON

      A Digireads.com Book

      Digireads.com Publishing

      Print ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-4540-9

      Ebook ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-1800-7

      This edition copyright © 2012

      Please visit www.digireads.com

      CONTENTS

      DRAMATIS PERSONAE IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE

      ACTS AND SCENES

      I.

      II.

      III.

      IV.

      V.

      DRAMATIS PERSONAE IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE

      WITGOOD.

      LUCRE, his uncle.

      HOARD.

      ONESIPHORUS HOARD, his brother.

      LIMBER. }

      KIX. } FRIENDS OF HOARD.

      LAMPREY. }

      SPICHCOCK. }

      DAMPIT.

      GULF.

      FREEDOM, son of MISTRESS LUCRE

      MONEYLOVE.

      HOST.

      SIR LAUNCELOT.

      CREDITORS.

      GENTLEMEN.

      GEORGE.

      DRAWER.

      BOY.

      SCRIVENER.

      SERVANTS, &c.

      COURTESAN.

      MISTRESS LUCRE.

      JOYCE, niece to HOARD.

      LADY FOXSTONE.

      AUDREY, servant to DAMPIT.

      ACTS AND SCENES

      I.i. A street in Leicestershire

      I.ii. The Host's inn in Leicestershire

      I.iii. A street in London

      I.iv. Another street in London

      II.i. A room in Lucre's house

      II.ii. A street in London

      III.i. Another street in London

      III.ii. Hoard's house, London

      III.iii. A tavern, London

      III.iv. Dampit's House, London

      IV.i. An apartment in Cole Harbour

      IV.ii. A room in Lucre's house

      IV.iii. A street in London

      IV.iv. A room in Hoard's house

      IV.v. Dampit's bedroom

      V.i. A room in Lucre's house

      V.ii. A room in Hoard's house

      I.

      [.i. A street in Leicestershire]

      [Enter Witgood, a gentleman, solus.]

      WITGOOD. All's gone! Still thou'rt a gentleman, that's all; but a poor one, that's nothing. What milk brings thy meadows forth now? Where are thy goodly uplands and thy downlands? All sunk into that little pit, lechery. What should a gallant pay but two shillings for his ordinary that nourishes him, and twenty times two for his brothel that consumes him? But where's Longacre? In my uncle's conscience, which is three years' voyage about; he that sets out upon his conscience never finds the way home again—he is either swallowed in the quicksands of law-quillets, or splits upon the piles of a praemunire; yet these old fox-brained and ox-browed uncles have still defences for their avarice, and apologies for their practices, and will thus greet our follies:

      He that doth his youth expose

      To brothel, drink, and danger,

      Let him that is his nearest kin

      Cheat him before a stranger.

      And that's his uncle, 'tis a principle in usury. I dare not visit the city: there I should be too soon visited by that horrible plague, my debts, and by that means I lose a virgin's love, her portion and her virtues. Well, how should a man live now, that has no living, hum? Why, are there not a million of men in the world, that only sojourn upon their brain, and make their wits their mercers; and am I but one amongst that million and cannot thrive upon't? Any trick, out of the compass of law, now would come happily to me.

      [Enter Courtesan.]

      COURTESAN. My love.

      WITGOOD. My loathing! Hast thou been the secret consumption of my purse? And now com'st to undo my last means, my wit? Wilt leave no virtue in me, and yet thou never the better?

      Hence, courtesan, round-webbed tarantula,

      That dryest the roses in the cheeks of youth!

      COURTESAN. I have been true unto your pleasure, and all your lands thrice racked was never worth the jewel which I prodigally gave you, my virginity;

      Lands mortgaged may return and more esteemed,

      But honesty, once pawned, is ne'er redeemed.

      WITGOOD. Forgive: I do thee wrong

      To make thee sin and then to chide thee for't.

      COURTESAN. I know I am your loathing now: farewell.

      WITGOOD. Say, best invention, stay.

      COURTESAN. I that have been the secret consumption of your purse, shall I stay now to undo your least means, your wits? Hence, courtesan, away!

      WITGOOD. I prithee, make me not mad at my own weapon, stay (a thing few women can do, I know that, and therefore they had need wear stays); be not contrary. Dost love me? Fate has so cast it that all my means I must derive from thee.

      COURTESAN. From me! Be happy then;

      What lies within the power of my performance

      Shall be commanded of thee.

      WITGOOD. Spoke like

      An honest drab, i'faith; it may prove something.

      What trick is not an embryon at first,

      Until a perfect shape come over it?

      COURTESAN. Come, I must help you, whereabouts left you?

      I'll proceed.

      Though you beget, 'tis I must help to breed.

      Speak, what is't? I'd fain conceive it.

      WITGOOD. So, so, so; thou shall presently take the name and form upon thee of a rich country widow, four hundred a year valiant, in woods, in bullocks, in barns and in rye-stacks; we'll to London, and to my covetous uncle.

      COURTESAN. I begin to applaud thee; our states being both desperate, they're soon resolute. But how for horses?

      WITGOOD. Mass, that's true; the jest will be of some continuance. Let me see; horses now, a bots on 'em! Stay, I have acquaintance with a mad host, never yet bawd to thee; I have rinsed the whoreson's gums in mull-sack many a time and often; put but a good tale into his ear now, so it come off it cleanly, and there's horse and man for us, I dare warrant thee.

      COURTESAN. Arm your wits then speedily;

      There shall want nothing in me,

      Either in behaviour, discourse or fashion,

      That shall discredit your intended purpose.

      I will so artfully disguise my wants,

      And set so good a courage on my state,

      That I will be believed.

      WITGOOD. Why, then, all's furnished; I shall go nigh to catch that old fox, mine uncle. Though he make but some amends for my undoing, yet there's some comfort in't—he cannot otherwise choose (though it be but in hope to cozen me again) but supply any hasty want that I bring to town with me. The device well and cunningly carried, the name of a rich widow, and four hundred a year in good earth, will so conjure up a kind of usurer's love in him to me, that he will not only desire my presence—which at first shall scarce

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